faesdreaming

Latest Posts by faesdreaming

platonic yan! werewolf concept + drabble

an anon from my previous account mentioned something about a werewolf yan, so to that anon (who is hopefully aware that this account exists...) here you go!!

yan! werewolf is a sweet guy, lives quietly and tries not to garner a lot of attention to himself. intimidating stature, but is sweet and kind. he acts this way as a way of balancing out his other side.

yan! werewolf probably works as something super unlike his appearance. he's a librarian, enjoying the peace that arranging books and dealing with fewer people was better for his sanity.

yan! werewolf is usually pretty prepared for full moons. has an isolated place that is far away from any people, deep inside the forest and underground where it's harder for anyone to find it. and especially harder for him to hurt anybody once he's turned.

yan! werewolf who is overwhelmed with planning for events at the library and other fun things, completely forgets that the full moon is literally tonight.

yan! werewolf who ends up turning in the dark empty and most importantly closed library, unaware of reader who had fallen asleep at the study area of the library and was unfortunately locked in with a fucking werewolf. what a thing to wake up to.

--

Giant clawed hands that enveloped your shoulders push you down onto the hard ground of the library, hitting your head onto the ground hard. Your vision starts to become spotty as the monster's jaw opened dangerously close your face.

Hot breath pants in your face and you wine away, you turned your head away from the monster. All you could do was wait for your death and hope it was painless. But the creature stops and starts... sniffing you?

Aggressive sniffing. Like an excited dog would do to a stranger. Dog? When the pain starts to simmer into a dull throb and your vision clears, the creature looked way too similar to the werewolves you would see in books.

...Hold on. You don't realize you're crying until you hear sad whimpers from the giant dog (Werewolf? you really hoped it wasn't.) as it started to lick your face.

Fairly harmless, at least it wasn't mauling you. The licking was gentle, eliciting small sniffling laughs from you. "Enough, get off-!"

Hearing your laughs it seems to understand that you were no longer scared of it so the giant dog, you've decided that's what it was, finally hops off of you. Sitting in front of you with it's tail wagging behind it.

You slowly start to get up, groaning in pain from the.... well everything. Your head, your shoulders... everything was aching. When you lifted your head, you started to see the creature in all its glory.

Glory probably wasn't the word for it.

Even sitting down, the creature was huge. It was as if a werewolf jumped out of a storybook and was sitting right in front of you. Despite the fact that its tongue was out of his mouth and he was panting, it was still intimidating. Even if it looked like a giant dumb dog.

"Nice... werewolf? I'm gonna go now, alright?"

This was dumb. The good idea would be to stay put, so it doesn't change its mind and just murder you anyways. You start to back away, the exit was literally right there! You start to slowly move towards the exit.

The werewolf lets out a warning growl with each step you take, nearer to the exit. You flinch and immediately sat back down. You hear the werewolf let out a satisfied huff as it made its way to you and curled around you protectively.

You were stuck in this closed off library with a dangerous beast. Snoring as it slept, curled around you. Not letting you leave.

--

parental yandere wizard becoming attached to (unwilling/unknowing) apprentice reader and deciding to keep them as their little baby <3

I hope this is good!!

TW: Kidnapping, parental yandere, descriptions of blood/violence, infantilization

...

You've always liked exploring the forest, it was different to most forests, almost straight out of a storybook. The trees were twisted with age, the flowers vibrantly bright and always in bloom no matter the time of year.

The air felt alive here. Magical. It felt more like home than your actual home.

Of course, there were some dangerous creatures that lurked the forest's depths, but you'd never ventured far enough to come across one before.

It seems that your biggest fear should've always been your own kind; humans. You always thought your demise would come from a hungry wolf or poisonous plants, but in reality?

It was a hunter's trap that crunched down on your ankle while you were daydreaming. A bear trap, the metal jaws clamping shut, crushing your bones and drawing blood.

The scream that rips itself out of your throat is loud enough to scare birds out of the surrounding trees.

Pain shoots up your leg, hot and cold at once, making it throb with each frantic heartbeat. You grip the jaws of the trap, your fingers scrabbling against the rusted iron until they're raw, trying to pry them open.

You realize with horror no one will find you out here.

Well, that's what you think, when suddenly the sound of quick footsteps and leaves crunching underfoot reach your ears. The steps slow, stop, and then...

"Oh my goodness!" a voice exclaims with dismay. Despite the panicked tone, their voice sounds soft and gentle.

You lift your head and are met with a pair of worried green eyes, wide behind thin spectacles. Their frame isn't too much taller than your own, and they have messy hair and freckles.

Even though their appearance is somewhat youthful, you can tell they're somewhere in their early forties.

"It's alright," they say, crouching next to you. "It'll all be alright, okay, sweetheart?"

Their voice is still soft, almost like someone talking to a frightened child. And, in this situation, you probably look like a frightened child, curled in on yourself and whimpering from the pain shooting up your ankle.

The stranger touches the metal gently and mutters something beneath their breath; the trap pops open so quickly that you squeak. The relief on your ankle is immediate, until you try to move it and another pained sob tumbles out of you.

You glance up at your savior who has removed their cloak, bunching it up in their hands.

"Just hold still, dearest. I know it hurts," they murmur softly, reaching forward to wrap it around your foot with great care, supporting your ankle the best they can. They give you a wobbly smile. "I'm going to take you home, okay? So I can help fix you right up."

Without their cloak, you notice they're covered in faded scars and marks.

Before you can open your mouth to ask, however, you're suddenly lifted into their arms with great strength, as if you weighed nothing more than a small toddler.

It startles you enough that you cling onto the front of their blouse.

"Careful, careful," they coo, giving you another quick smile before setting off, keeping your body pressed against theirs. You bury your face in the fabric of their shirt without thinking, sniffling quietly, still trying to ignore the pain radiating up your leg. "I'm so lucky to have found you... it's like my prayers have been answered! Maybe I am blessed, after all..."

They sound weirdly happy about this all, but you're in too much pain to really care.

And so you relax against your savior and allow yourself to drift off into a restless slumber.

...

When you wake up, you find yourself lying comfortably on a soft bed with warm blankets wrapped around you.

Your ankle isn't throbbing anymore; instead, you feel nothing more than a slight ache, now. You shift around until you're propped up on your elbows and can see your bandaged ankle resting atop a pillow.

You notice you've been changed into pastel pajamas which feel soft and clean against your skin.

Footsteps reach your ears, and you lift your head to watch as a stranger steps through the doorway, wearing that familiar kind smile you remember.

It was the same one they wore while they were scooping you up in their arms...

They hold two steaming mugs, each a dark red color. You recognize them as the person who saved you from that hunter's trap, so you allow yourself to relax back against the pillows again.

When you had first caught sight of them, you weren't sure whether or not they'd planned to bring you harm, but they seemed too sweet to mean any.

"I made you some hot chocolate," they say, walking towards the bed and setting the mug down beside you. They sit down in a chair situated next to the bedside with their own hot chocolate, blowing gently on the steam. "No one ever ventures out here. Were you lost?"

"N-No," you say, hating the way your voice quivers slightly. You clear your throat and reach for your own cup. "I live in the village closest to the forest. I... I was exploring when I stumbled across a bear trap. I wasn't looking where I was going."

Their gaze becomes sharper, but not to you specifically. "Ah. Those damn hunters." Then, they frown. "Sorry for my language."

You huff a laugh. "'Damn'? I've said far worse, I'd hardly call that a curse word." At the look they send you, you quickly say, "Maybe I look younger than I actually am. I'm not a kid."

Their smile returns. "Oh, love. If that's what you want to tell yourself."

You frown at their cryptic statement, staring at them suspiciously over the rim of your cup. You take a tentative sip, the drink sweet and creamy on your tongue, much better than the ones from the market.

"Well, whatever. I still appreciate your help. I would've bled to death out there without you. I had no idea there was anyone living out here." You blink slowly at them and continue, "So, um... what's your name?"

They grin. "Solaris, and I'm glad I could be of assistance. After all, I couldn't just leave you out there, crying like that. Positively shattered my heart!" They sigh dramatically, clutching at their chest. "Now, you have to heal. I already applied medicine to your ankle. All you need now is rest, sunshine."

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Sorry, but... how long will it take to heal? I have somewhere to be, so..."

Solaris glances over at you with an arched brow. Their lips are pressed in a thin line, though it doesn't seem as if they're mad or upset. "Well..." They pause to contemplate on something. "I'll be honest with you. I've been lonely. For so long I've craved not only an apprentice of my own, but my own baby, as well. Just before you showed up, I was pleading to whatever Gods above to grant me this wish. And then..." Solaris smiles. "There you were! Like an angel fallen from the sky. Like my very own angel."

You're quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly at them. "...And that means what, exactly?"

"It means... I'll keep you."

You let out a weak chuckle. "Yeah, okay, funny joke..."

"Oh, I'm not joking," they interrupt, turning to meet your stare. They don't hold that usual soft smile anymore. Instead, their expression has hardened, their lips now pursed in a thin line.

You swallow thickly at the sudden change, gripping your cup tighter than before. "But I can't stay. I have family and friends that will be worried about me."

"They have each other, don't they? Meanwhile I have no one..." Once again, they sigh dramatically. This time it makes you flinch. "All I have is my research and magic, and that gets painfully lonely."

"M-Magic?" you repeat, startled.

"Yes. An experienced one, in fact. Very skilled with potions and spells. Why do you think your wounds healed so quickly?" Their mouth twitches into a faint smirk. "Now I suppose you understand why trying to run would be useless. Besides, Mama just wants their precious baby safe and healthy..."

Your nose scrunches. Mama...?

"Um... sorry, but... no, thanks." You stumble out of bed, and are shocked to feel only a mild ache in your leg, the wound no longer bleeding, the skin cleanly stitched together. You limp towards the door as quickly as you can, but Solaris snaps their fingers and the pain is back, but five times worse than before. You fall against the floor with a cry.

"Now why did you make me do that?" Solaris shakes their head.

"No!" you snap. "You're insane. You aren't my mom!"

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to a more masculine term—"

"How does 'asshole' sound?" you suggest dryly, using the nearby dresser to haul yourself onto your feet. The wood feels smooth against your clammy palms.

They hum lowly. "I'd like an apology, please. You're being a brat, and you haven't even spent a full day here yet." You only glare, which gets another long sigh out of them. "Fine. I suppose we'll do this the hard way."

The pain increases tenfold, and you nearly collapse again with a choked sob. Suddenly, the weight on your legs feels unbearable; even the task of breathing seems painful, each breath sending another sharp ache down your spine. A whimper escapes you.

You hate the tears stinging at your eyes, but the hurt is so bad that it takes every ounce of concentration not to curl up and scream.

"Apologize, sweetheart," Solaris coaxes softly. "No reason to act like such a stubborn brat. I don't like doing this to you, you're forcing my hand."

A tremble racks through your body as you sink down to your knees. "I'm sorry," you gasp, unable to bear it any longer. "Please, I'm sorry—stop!"

Finally, it ceases. The throbbing dulls to a light pressure once again.

With it, the tension drains from your muscles, and you slump backwards against the dresser.

You hug your knees to your chest and shiver when Solaris reaches forward to pull you onto their lap, smoothing down the locks of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead.

"See?" they whisper, pressing their lips against your temple. "If you'd only listened to mama like a good child... but I forgive you, my love. I always will. Now let's get you back in bed—it looks like you're going to sleep next to Mama tonight."

They lift you into their arms and tuck you beneath the covers, planting another kiss on top of your forehead. It seems they won't be leaving; the bed dips underneath their weight while they snuggle up beside you, humming a quiet tune underneath their breath.

You freeze momentarily before relaxing, letting them draw patterns along your arm, up and down and up again, the motions soothing enough that you soon find yourself slipping into slumber.

"There we go," Solaris says. "That's much better, hm? Goodnight, baby."

...

The next morning greets you with the smell of something good. Your stomach rumbles quietly from underneath the blankets.

You yawn, sitting up straighter in bed, wincing slightly at the stiffness in your leg. Although your wounds had closed, your leg was still wrapped in bandages to help ease the soreness away. You swing your legs off of the mattress and lower them down onto the cool wooden flooring below.

As soon as you're able to stand steadily, you walk out of your bedroom and wander until you stumble across the kitchen; you see Solaris bustling around the room, grabbing silverware and plates for your breakfast.

They turn and beam, seeing you standing awkwardly by the entrance.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Solaris says cheerfully. "Did Mama's little star sleep well?"

Star? That's a new one...

You merely hum instead, moving to sit in the nearest chair available. In front of you is a plate of pancakes already.

You glance back up to look at Solaris, who's watching you carefully. Only when they give you a smile and gesture for you to start eating do you grab your fork and dig in, only because you're starving. You take large gulps of water too.

"Slow down, slow down, sweetie! You'll get sick!" Solaris admonishes. Their brows furrow. "My goodness, when was the last time you had a proper meal?"

You ignore the question, continuing to scarf down your food and avoiding their eyes.

You can see them staring you down out of your peripherals.

It isn't long until you finish up your plate and you scoot out of the chair, ready to make a break for your room—until you're caught by a firm hand grasping the collar of your shirt.

The back of your throat makes an embarrassing noise, which draws a warm chuckle from Solaris's end. Your ears grow hot. Stupid.

"Ah, ah, ah! Don't be naughty," they chide, wagging a finger in front of your face. "Mama's gotta re-bandage your injury."

You scowl at them but follow nonetheless. Better to remain obedient for now.

They lead you through a narrow hall and open a pair of wide, heavy oak doors. Inside lies a study filled to the brim with books, all different sizes and colors, organized neatly on tall bookshelves lining the wall.

A round mahogany table sits at the center of the room, littered with strange gadgets and bubbling potions.

"This is where I study," Solaris explains. They motion over to a couch. "Why don't you lie down right here for Mama, sweetie? It won't take very long. Promise."

Once again, you oblige, albeit reluctantly. You plop down on the soft cushions and place both of your legs across them.

Solaris bends down to inspect the stitches before gingerly peeling the old wrappings off, tossing the bandages away into the trash bin. You peer down to examine the wounds yourself.

They're clean-cut and sewn together carefully. Almost professionally, you note.

"Will they leave scars?" you ask.

Solaris blinks. "Most likely. I've got magic, but that doesn't mean it's unlimited." They seem almost apologetic as they gently press around the irritated skin. "The wounds should stay sealed up so long as you don't irritate them."

After adding some more ointment, they wrap your ankle up anew. Next they check on your hands, brushing feather-light touches against the raw skin.

"I can get rid of these scrapes with a spell. Will that be okay, sweet pea?"

"It's fine, I guess," you say, pulling a face. "Won't hurt, will it?"

"Not at all. Just a small tickle, is all." Before you can add anything else, Solaris waves a hand over your palms, muttering a chant beneath their breath—and within seconds, your hands begin to tingle.

The sensation lasts barely half a minute and fades as quick as it appeared. You wiggle your fingers and gawk at how smooth and free of blemishes your skin has become.

"How did you become a wizard?" you ask them curiously.

"Hm..." They scratch their chin, clearly thinking their answer over. "Well, I grew up studying the craft ever since I was a tiny thing. My father practiced dark magic and my mother was a white witch. After their passing, I wanted to learn everything I could about what they studied and became obsessed with spells and research... But that was many, many years ago."

"Years ago?" you echo. "How old are you? You look fairly young."

Solaris lets out a laugh, patting the top of your head in fondness. "Flatterer! You sure know how to win people's hearts." They wipe imaginary sweat off their brow before answering, "Magic has slowed my aging down quite a bit. I'm actually around a hundred."

"Oh," is all you manage to utter, unable to conjure up another response. A part of you isn't entirely surprised by the fact, seeing how far advanced their abilities are.

Before either of you can speak again, Solaris cups both of your cheeks. "And you can age slower too. With me, here! Isn't that wonderful? I could even make you younger than what you are now, if you'd like. Not that it'd matter either way, since you're my baby, regardless."

You suppress the shiver trying to run down your spine. "The only thing I'd ever want from you is to take me home."

Your reply makes them frown deeply. "Now why would I want to do that? This is your new home, right here with me. And when you adjust, we can decorate your room however you want!"

"I don't want a new room," you protest. "I don't want a new home. And I especially don't want a new parent."

"You may not think so now," they reply. "But you'll warm up to it soon enough. I have faith in you, buttercup. You'll see."

The words send dread shooting down your spine.

...

After breakfast, Solaris gives you the grand tour.

"There isn't much to see, really," they admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck. "My study is full of chemicals, so you can't be allowed in there alone. Even when you do agree to be my apprentice."

You look out the nearby window, and realize how high up you are in the stone tower.

Below you, the village you used to live in is visible beyond the forest; it looks like miniature buildings now, the villagers themselves nothing more than ants milling about.

"This used to be a watch tower. Hundreds of years old, mind you. I renovated it myself with a little magic and a lot of elbow grease. You should've seen the place beforehand—it was practically dilapidated!" Their cheerful chatter trails off after that, allowing you to gaze out the window once more. Then they say, in a gentler tone, "Is your old home somewhere down there? That must've been a long walk to get so deep into the woods."

"Mhm," you murmur, tracing circles against the dusty glass with your fingertips.

"Well, I think that's just about everything." Solaris pauses. "We can discuss an apprenticeship later. For now, why don't you read a book from the library downstairs? Any one you wish." When you frown, they lean forward to plant a kiss on top of your forehead. "Or maybe you'd prefer being rocked and read to in Mama's arms?"

"No," you grit out between clenched teeth. You huff and cross your arms over your chest petulantly.

They smile. "I figured. Go on, then."

You move to exit the room.

...

Hours pass, and you're painfully bored.

There wasn't anything interesting in the library, and you're too anxious about touching anything in the study. Your only form of entertainment at the moment are the birds tweeting outside, along with the clouds floating by lazily overhead.

It would almost be peaceful if you weren't stuck here against your will. If you could only escape—then, you wouldn't have to deal with Solaris's coddling any longer.

Thinking about it, your face scrunches up.

You had been on the receiving end of plenty of hugs today, as well as kisses and a good portion of baby talk.

Each encounter left a sour taste lingering on the back of your tongue.

You can't take this any longer. You rip off both of the long curtains to the side of the window, and tie them together tightly, braiding them into a rope-like length of fabric.

Thankfully, Solaris is preoccupied somewhere else, giving you plenty of time to set things up.

Your knot-tying skills are less than subpar, but you make do. Once secured, you throw the makeshift rope outside and tug on it a few times for safety purposes.

With an audible gulp, you slowly shimmy down, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking down below. Thankfully, the ground reaches you before anything bad can happen. When your feet touch the grass, relief floods your veins in one dizzying rush.

Freedom is finally in sight. There's no sign of Solaris anywhere.

You're about to sprint away from the watch tower as fast as possible, when suddenly an invisible force renders you completely immobile.

"Sneaky, sneaky," comes a familiar voice behind you.

When you don't respond, Solaris clicks their tongue. They snap their fingers once, removing the invisible chains around your body.

They pick you up and rest you against their hip while ascending up the stairs. "Oh dear. Now look what we've done—you ripped poor Mama's favorite curtains..."

You wriggle desperately in their grasp. "Let me go!"

"Why?" they say, sounding genuinely confused. "I made you those cute clothes. I fed you. Why run away? Do you enjoy breaking my heart?" There's a brief pause while they push open a door to a bedroom and place you inside. "Maybe a night alone in here will make you reconsider your choices."

Before you can argue or defend yourself, Solaris closes the door, and you hear the tell-tale jiggling of keys and turning of locks on the other side.

You pull at the knob and pound your fists on the wood repeatedly, until your hands sting and throb with a dull pain.

Then, the exhaustion settles deep in your bones and you fall asleep on the bed.

yandere!author with coworker!reader imagine

warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, elderich horror, mentions of death and violence, fem!reader, transmigration.

This piece was inspired by @casuallyanidiot’s own yandere!author concept. For those who are interested in reading it, I’ll leave the link to it here.

divider by @cafekitsune

As much as he would like to sit at home and continue to add more best-selling romance web novels to his belt without having to socialize in the outside world, Yandere!Author doesn’t have much choice in the matter. The royalties he received were fine, but he does need to have a steady income to keep a roof over his head instead of waiting for a paycheck to land in his lap. That’s why when he does sit down at his desk to write, the timeframe is usually after a long week in the office or on his day off. 

Yandere!Author doesn’t have much experience in relationships or being in love. He’s done a lot of research on his end, though it’s mostly based on what he’s read at the bookstore or  borrowed from the library; contemporary, meet-cutes, fake relationships, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, etc. He has even read trashy isekai webnovels where the secondary genre is romance as a study guide, like what would he have done if he had written the story himself and scribbled down ideas in the notebook he always carries with him. 

But reading about love on the pages is completely different than experiencing it for himself. It’s messy, it’s scary, and damn it all he wished he could work up the nerve to walk over to your cubicle and ask if you’d like to get a cup of coffee together at the new cafe that just opened. Would you even have given him the time of day? The person who is always so dependable and kind to everyone in the office, even to someone like him? 

No. No, you wouldn’t. Perhaps it is better this way. You were his inspiration. A muse just out of Yandere!Author’s reach, yet watching over you from afar was more than enough to create more lovely heroines for his stories. 

Imagine the devastation he felt when he received news that you had tragically died after being hit by a truck on the way towards the office at a busy intersection, followed by the shock as he sat alone in his apartment, watching the rough draft of his new work being rewritten on his laptop with each sentence by an unseen force. The cliched plot of a beautiful young lady being pursued by two men in a medieval-era romance was crumbling under the quick wit of the villainess. 

Yandere!Author watched as the next sentence was deleted. His eyes flew across the words previously written and realized that this is the scenario where the villainess is accused of poisoning the heroine with a needle by the male lead and secondary male lead. The secondary male lead was forced to marry the villainess, but he never loved nor respected his political wife. He would carry a torch for the female lead, right up until the final chapter. 

But instead of being punished for what she did to the heroine, the villainess calmly asked the male lead how she could have poisoned his fiance when she was in the capital shopping getting a dress tailored for the upcoming foundation ceremony? A knight and her personal maid were with her the entire time, and can vouch for her whereabouts. Furthermore, why would she try to harm her future sister-in-law when they had just met? Jealousy? Hah. How silly. She is the daughter of a marquis and happily married to the second male lead. What is there to be jealous of? 

Furious at the idea that his beloved lied about being poisoned by this snake-like woman in front of him, the male lead was about to teach the villainess a lesson when the second male lead intervened by grabbing his old friend by the wrist. 

“That’s enough.” He said, his voice growing soft and dangerous. “Duke Rudwick I understand that you are greatly upset at what has happened to Lady Lightstone but that is no excuse to raise your hand against my wife. If you truly think she has something to do with this, I am sure she will be more than happy to cooperate in an official investigation.” He looked down at his spouse, who was just as stunned as the Duke was at his actions. 

The mysterious plotter continued to type out the scene. The villainess wholeheartedly agreed with her husband, and then they left the male lead alone in his office. He couldn’t believe it. There was no way his lover would lie to him. She is an honest and kind girl, the complete opposite of his friend’s wife. No, he doesn’t think the villainess is even human. She is a snake in the grass, and he must do everything within his power to protect Lady Lightstone. She will not be taken away from him again when he is all that she needs. 

Well, I didn’t think things would escalate that quickly in this scenario, let alone having my husband come to my defense when he could’ve agreed with his friend if it meant annulling our marriage. Lady Brekker thought as she looked outside the carriage window, tucking a strand behind her ear. I’m honestly surprised he still refuses to sign the divorce papers. Why would he even want an awkward person like myself when Lady Lightstone is practically written as a benevolent spring goddess who is loved by all in this world? I guess I’ll need to work harder in order to leave the stage quietly and live a peaceful life far away from this story. She inwardly groaned. Cheese and sprinkles, why can’t things be easy for a villainess who does not want to die a second time?

Yandere!Author stared at the screen, dumbfounded. Cheese and sprinkles. That was the cute little catchphrase you would say when something went wrong at the office. So how is it that the villainess knew about it? Unless…

His eyes widened in realization, re-reading the scenario from the beginning to the end as dread crawled up the back of his throat. There’s no question about it. You were inside his story, possessing the villainess and trying to get away from the second male lead so that you wouldn’t fall to his blade in the scene when the villainess and her family would be executed for treason against the royal family in favor of profiting from the illegal arms they’ve supplied to an enemy country. His masterpiece had been reduced to a cliched troupe. But more importantly, his second male lead seemed actually happy to have you at his side. 

That’s not supposed to happen. It shouldn’t happen. Villains aren’t supposed to get a happy ending. Their role in the story is to serve as a foil and drive the plot forward, because without a conflict there is no story. But what can he even do when it is you who is supposed to make the heroine shine brighter as a villainess? The one who needs to perish so that all of the main characters can achieve the happily-ever-after and conclude the story?

No. Maybe he can change that. He is the creator of A Virtuous Young Lady’s Guide To Finding A Suitable Marriage Partner. A god. He could find a way to shift the direction of the story so you would not die. Find a way to enter the story himself so that he could finally confess his love for you before sweeping you up in his arms for a kiss. That is what a proper male lead is supposed to do, right?

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2025

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cardinal concept

yandere platonic batfam with a resurrected reader

a/n: because as much as i love neglected reader, dead (then alive again) reader just has so much potential

the dynamic duo, batman and robin. bruce wayne and dick grayson. then, you came along; a result of bruce’s irresponsible coupling with a young woman he’d long since forgotten about. you grow up in the nastier parts of gotham with your mother, where you’re forces to grow up faster and become more mature, until she has an accident.

after you’re mother’s untimely death, you find yourself under his care. bruce is hesitant and unsure, he’s already struggled with raising dick. he doesn’t want to fail you too. he dances around telling about batman until you happen upon the batcave, at your insistence and a few instances of you following them, he relents and lets you join.

suddenly, it’s batman, robin, and cardinal.

bruce is initially unsure what to do with you, even after you become cardinal. unlike with dick, who needed to become robin lest he go down a darker road, you’re only cardinal because of him. it draws out an agonizing guilt, causing bruce to practically coddle you. but you’re emotionally intelligent, in a way bruce isn’t, you’re able to communicate with soft words and gentle reasoning instead of shouting matches and tearful pouting like your brother. you’re his angel, his sweet, understanding angel. it reminds him of his own mother. you’re kind, empathetic disposition is everything bruce needs in his life. because yes, to him, your brother needs his guidance. but bruce needs yours.

as for dick his relationship is with you as simple as this: he’s the big brother and you’re the little sibling. you can fight and argue, but you two always make up and head off to snuggle or play. you’re bond grows stronger the more time you spend on patrol— having each other’s back, getting into trouble with batman— or at school— although you’re in a younger grade, you still see your big brother at school and go to him when you have problems— or at home— snuggled up, watching a movie and eating snacks provided by alfred— you two are extremely close.

you’re little of family of four— including alfred, of course— is tight-knit. you fight and argue but always make up and you’re always there for each other.

until dick becomes nightwing and a scruffy teen named jason todd joins you. as close as you are with your older brother and father, you bond with him far quicker. maybe it’s because of how close you are in age, or maybe it’s because of your shared past experiences.

the family dynamics shift and change, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. dick grows more distant, going off with the titans. but that’s to be expected, he’s grown up now. you still visit him, of course. and he still pops by to see you. bruce, you notice, softens, almost. he’s grown accustomed to parenthood. jason is your favourite change, though. a sibling close in age, but still younger, so can justify (playfully) bossing him around. your family isn’t perfect, but it’s yours and you love it.

then, jason and bruce start fighting. dick goes off world. a fight with bane leaves you injured and out of commission. it’s just a rough patch, you tell yourself. until, suddenly, jason’s birth mother contacts him. something’s off about it. you want to tell your dad, however, jason is adamant you shouldn’t. reluctantly, you don’t, opting to go along with him just in case.

your gut, as it turns out, was right. you’re injured and unable to do much as the joker captures you and jason. you’re helpless to watch as your brother, your sweet baby brother, is beaten mercilessly with a crowbar. your voice is hoarse from screaming during your own beating and your body is sore, but despite it all, you still rasp out pleas to let your brother go. one child will be effective enough. the joker can spare one. of course, in his cruelty, he doesn’t.

you’re left aching, battered, and bruised. the ticking of the bomb serves as the count to your death. jason, brave jason, tries to gather enough strength to get up. and maybe, just maybe, he could escape if he weren’t focused on trying to save you. he won’t listen to your pleas for him to go, to leave you behind. he’s adamant upon accompanying you to your doom.

you hear the final ticks. with all the strength you have left, you move towards him. you cannot save yourself. you cannot save him. all you can do is die beside him. pressing your forehead to his, the last thing you see is your little brother’s face before the final tick sounds and the ensuing explosion consumes you.

and that’s the end of it, your journey, your life. you’re buried alongside your brother in a sombre ceremony, your uniform cased in glass as a memorial to bruce’s failures. he becomes angrier, loses himself. he’s lost two of his children and is fighting with his only remaining one. dick, is utterly furious, with himself and bruce. he blames bruce. for letting his precious siblings die, for starting them all of this heroic crusade. he blames himself for not being there, for being distant with you and jason.

alas, time marches forwards and batman needs a new robin, in the form of one tim drake. he’s a clever kid, one way too smart for his own good. one you used to babysit while his rich parents were away to earn some extra cash. it wasn’t right, leaving him with no one his age to play with. so, when you could, you’d come over. you’d soothe his loneliness. and for that, he’s forever grateful.

your influence continues beyond your death. for you life has impacted so many. barbara gordan, for example, who viewed you akin to a little sister. who fought alongside you as batgirl. you were loved by many as (Y/N) Wayne. your friends and family still hold candles for you. even as they accept your lose, they never stop fully grieving for you and the lost potential brimming inside you. then, there are those who you impacted as cardinal. as a hero, you saved numerous lives, including that of one stephanie brown, who will forever feel indebted to you and strives to become just like you.

the justice league, who knew you as one of the first sidekicks, who functioned like extended family, mourn deeply for your loss and offer sympathies to your father and brother. they will remember you and your tenacity, carrying on their pursuit of justice with you in mind. certainly villains, such as poison ivy and even harley quinn, are enraged with the joker. while you could occasionally be a pain, you were their favourite kiddie hero. and of course the likes of selina kyle and talia al ghul, your father’s paramours, women who became like family to you.

cardinal will be forever immortalized in the hearts of heroes and villains alike, your legacy of compassion and kindness living on in memories transformed into stories, your death a testament to sacrifice and love and heroism— except, that isn’t how it ends, is it? no. your story doesn’t end with your death, it’s how it begins.

and your real story begins by waking in the constricting confined of your casket, bursting out with inhuman strength, fueled by the adrenaline boost, and digging your way out of your grave, the cool mud giving way to harsh ground until you break through the service. that night, that stormy gotham eve, is the day you are reborn.

you flee then wander the streets of gotham until you regain your mind. you remember, you remember everything and you, you don’t want to go back. not to your family, not to your friends, not the life you once knew. you were given a new life. and this life, you would live for yourself.

sans your old attachments, you live encumbered, untroubled by past woes. yet, you seem to forget your festering memory, the mark you’ve left on people. you forget that while you may be willing to leave your old life behind, they aren’t as willing to let you go. especially when they learn you’re within reach.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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content warnings: yandere themes/behaviours, possessiveness, forced companionship, threatened self harm (not reader), reader can be read as afab or amab

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆:

His royal highness, your sworn liege. You swore an oath, forever binding yourself and your service to him. Knights, of course, he has a plenty. But you? You’re different. Special. He sits above all upon his throne. The burden of his crown is a heavy toll. And unlike the other knights he has in his command, you don’t simply act to obey.

You’re his most trusted advisor alongside being his most loyal soldier. You act to soothe his woes and offer insight. You traverse not just his kingdom but many others on your journey, enabling you to provide a different and rather refreshing perspective. Knights are made to uphold values of honour, loyalty, and nobility but the King has never met one quite as earnest as you.

He remembers the day you were knighted. How you knelt before him and pleaded your eternal loyalty. It’s a fond memory, one he replays whenever your admirers fawn over you or when you go on quests. It acts as a balm to soothe the possessive jealousy that rears its head. And how he loathes your seemingly never ending desire to go on quests. Certainly, before you endeared yourself to him, he hadn’t cared. Attain glory, uphold your honour. It is what knights are meant to do.

Alas, now, he cannot help but detest when you leave. His attempts at making you stay only delay it slightly longer. His orders for your aid, for your company all interrupted by the endless demands for your talents. It drives him mad. You’ve won more than enough glory. You’ve proven your honour and how noble you are countless times.

Stay with him, he’ll grant you every knight’s dream. A castle, large and built with grandeur. And what better castle than his palace? He’ll construct an entire wing, or perhaps an entirely new palace for you. He’ll shower you in all the gold and jewels you could ever want and more. He’ll throw the grandest of feasts and balls in celebration. Whatever your heart desires.

Or perhaps he’ll lock you away in a tower as all mad kings tend to do. Keep his knight all to himself, dressed in the finest silks and draped in exuberant jewelry. Oh, but you’d hate him wouldn’t you? Eyes once filled with shining loyalty showing nothing but contempt and bringing him despair. He couldn’t take it. Yet, he’s slowly and surely waning. Look at what you’ve done to him. Your mighty king beholden to your wishes.

He’s desperate, hungry, yearning for you. His knight, his soldier, his advisor, his confidant. His. Heed his commands, won’t you? For even the kindest rulers committed the worst atrocities when driven mad, and you’ve certainly ignited his descent.

“𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒:

The loveliest damsel across the lands, her highness, the princess. Locked away in a tower by an evil wizard, waiting to be saved by you. Her gallant knight. Do you know how long she’s awaited your arrival? It’s to be expected, of course. Princesses being kidnapped by evil wizards, dragons and other malevolent entities are a common occurrence. As is a knight saving them. It’s destiny.

Certainly other knights have tried before. But all perished at the hands of the wizard who abducted her when she was but a girl and locked her away. She was beginning to think it was hopeless until you came along. Silly her, she knows how it goes. Damsels are saved by honourable knights, then, they live happily ever after. Her entire life she has waited to be saved by you. And now that you have, you’ll wed her of course!

Except you don’t. You refuse to, politely declining her advances. She doesn’t understand. Do you not know how these stories are meant to end? She’s supposed to be your reward, your prize for your heroic deeds. But then, you tell her she’s not a reward, eyes shining earnestly. And oh, even that doesn’t make her fall harder.

No one has ever afforded her autonomy before, she’s always been an object, a prize. It’s like a switch is turned. Suddenly, it’s not a duty, but a desire. She needs you to be by her side. You’re the only person who sees her for who she is.

The princess grows obsessive. She wants to be with you and will do anything to achieve it. Thus, she schemes. She fakes kidnappings and attempted assassinations, all conveniently timed and placed so you’ll be the one to save her. Yes, it may be a tad suspicious but you wouldn’t question her. She’s a hapless damsel and you’re a noble knight, after all.

Of course, she’s not the only damsel you’ve ever saved. She isn’t the first either. But the princess is determined to be the last. Whatever true dangers that require your skills will be shoved to the side when she grows more dramatic with her plots to gain your attention. You must see she’s in need of you. Always in danger. She needs you by her side to protect her.

And if you still refuse to be with her? The princess will have no other option than to take the most drastic measures. You’ll find her up at the edge of the top of the castle’s towers. Dagger poised above her chest, plump eyelashes wet with tears, and a wobbly bottom lip. But in her eyes, all you can see is the madness only lovesick lass could have. She can’t live without you. Thus, you must choose: to be with her or to have the crushing guilt of her death haunt for eternity. Either way, you will hers. Whether through life or death.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃:

The fiercest creature known to man, the dragon lord is your natural enemy. He is able to shift from dragon to man in a matter of seconds. Not that it matters, of course. For all knights will fall to his prowess. Then, you come along. At first, the dragon lord dismisses you as yet another fool attempting to slay him. He sighs, bored. Stupid mortals and their useless prides. Did they not understand they would never be able to win? He is the best of both worlds, the mightiest of dragons and men.

Yet, you don’t. You don’t try to slay him. You don’t try to steal his treasures. You reason with him. Your sword is a powerful tool, but you’re a reputed charmer for a reasons. Your words are crafted from a silver tongue. There isn’t a hint of the usual arrogance that men of your station usually hold. This intrigues him. Genuineness is something he hasn’t encountered for centuries. Especially not from a mortal. So, he entertains you. He leaves the village he’s terrorizing, not because he’s swayed by your words, more so you amused him. Yes, that’s it. He returns to his cove of golden treasures, not anticipating to waste a single moment thinking back on you.

Unfortunately for the dragon lord, you plague his mind. He’s an old creature, far older than even your kingdom. And he’s been so very bored for so very long. It leads to him shifting into his human form to gain more information. Only to sate his curiosity, though. Certainly not for any other reason.

His interest is once again peaked when he hears tales of your immense talent. You were holding back against him, weren’t you? Oh, how vexing you are. A simple knight, daring to try and swindle the dragon lord. And how vexing it is for him to have fallen for your coy act. It should irritate him far more than it does. But he’s lacked true companionship for so long. Dragons are a dying species and mortals are unworthy. Well, except for you.

Yes, you’d make a suitable companion. The dragon lord decides that you are his new companion and sets off to find you. Shifting back into his dragon form, he scours the land for you. Upon recognizing your scent, the dragon lord swoops down and nabs your unsuspecting form. You try and protests but he’s far too strong and large for you to fight off. He flies you back to his trove of treasures. The dragon lord sets you amongst his precious possessions, at the center, of course. For you are the most precious of all.

You’re smart, aware you cannot escape him with strength. So you try with wit. You bide time, keep him entertained and try to slip out. It’s a process you repeat multiple times, with the dragon lord catching you each time. He’s never cross with you, if anything, he’s amused. You truly are entertaining. The dragon lord will never take your attempts seriously. You’re a game to him. You may be his companion, but you’re more akin to a bird in a cage than an equal. You’re still his possession, after all. He’s a dragon lord, possessive instincts demanding he hoards you away from everything and keep you all to himself.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇:

The mistress of the black arts, the witch doesn’t expect to fall for someone such as yourself. She doesn’t expect to fall for anyone at all. Witches are, by nature, deceitful. They are beautiful and cruel. They engage in the dark arts. However, they are not all pure evil. Some have a modicum of compassion in their hearts. And you seem to draw out hers. Perhaps it’s because she’s known you since childhood. Before you were a glorious knight and she an infamous witch, you two were just children with seemingly impossible dreams and the weight of the world on your shoulders. But time changes things, it’s made what should be enemies out of you by the nature of your positions. Yet she cannot bring herself to hate you.

Not when you are truly noble, as knights are supposed to be. She’s encountered many a proclaimed knight in her time. All eager to vanquish her. Yet they all fail. And they all contribute to her disdain towards the blinded citizens of kingdom and the selfish aristocracy. What are knights but dogs to the nobility and monsters to the innocents? She’s seen knights and paladins set villages ablaze, slaughter innocents in the name of either their king or their whims. All knights disgust her. All except you, of course.

You’re her dreamer. You’re her innocence. You’re still the same person who believed in fairytales and noble values because you uphold them. That’s why you’re so beloved. By everyone, but most of all, her. You’ve never turned on her. You understand her nature as not evil. You even go as far as to bring her potion ingredients. She’s your dearest companion. The witch relishes in the thrall she has over you. In the thrall you have over her. You two, bound by mutual past, shall be intertwined in the future.

The witch strives to protect you. She patches up every wound you receive, regardless of how small, with her potion brews. She enchants a charm to ensure your safety— and if it happens to allow her to watch over her at all times, then it’s only because she wishes to keep you safe. And perhaps she may curse her rivals for your affection, so what? A light hex never hurt anyone. She’s indefinitely more relaxed than your other options, though. Witches, while some join covens, prefer independence. She would never want to stifle you.

So, the witch does what she does best. She casts curses and creates enchantments to keep you out of harms way. You may embark on your quests, you may indulge in your whims, but she is certain you will always return to her. And if you don’t? Well, she is a master of the dark arts. She can easily summon you and tether you to her. But she won’t. Probably.

Overall, the witch is concerned about your safety. She may guard you from a distance, but she guards you viciously. You are the only connection to her past, you are the only one who understands her. She cannot bear to lose you to anyone or anything.

“𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍:

A rival, a friend, an equal. This is what they are to you. The paladin, once a squire alongside you, now a sworn knight of the Holy Order. How your paths have differed. Yet, in some ways, you remain the same. Namely, the competition between you. The paladin is always one step behind, has been since your days as a squire. You best them at spars, at races both on horse and foot, in accolades as well. They’re a paladin, and yet, you receive more recognition than them. It drives them mad. You drive them mad.

For one, they should be above the petty jealousy you stir. They should be satisfied with their status. But they are not. They always compare themself to you. They want so desperately to share the light you unwittingly bask in. Alas, none of it is for them. They resent you, they loathe you. Even worse, they respect you. Beyond your skill, you’re the paradigm of a true knight. You’re noble and good-hearted in a cruel world. You’re pure in a way no one else is. It inspires nothing but admiration. The paladin has admired you since your shared youth, they even tried to convince you to take up the Holy Vows

They’ve yet to succeed, but they won’t stop trying. After all, you’re all they’ve been chasing after. You’re the peak they seek. They train relentlessly to improve. Not to become your equal, but to become your better. They want to surpass you, to prove themselves worthy. They want you to look at them the way they’ve looked at you. The paladin wants to be the center of your world.

They work tirelessly. And yet, you always seem to far away. Their obsession grows deeper, more dangerous. The more attention you gain, the more desperate they become. How can the paladin reach you if you’re so far away? It calls for more drastic measures. Perhaps sabotaging your reputation, or ruining your quests. Ensuring you have no one to turn to beside them. Maybe even a maiming is in order, something to incapacitate you and keep you in the paladin’s grasp.

Don’t worry. They’ll be worthy someday. Until then, the paladin will watch from afar, stewing with jealousy and yearning. Be careful though. One wrong move could have the paladin turning towards the more unsavoury means of attaining you. They’d be remiss to, of course, but they cannot let you slip from their hold.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.”

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a/n: I’m back, from a very long hiatus. Special thanks to @forbidden-sunlight for motivating me to get back into writing :)

more yandere fae + new works coming soon

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], obsessive behavior, implied violence, implied emotional and physical abuse, implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 series.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor! This is a collaborative piece written with @isuckatwritingsobenice, whom I share a mutual adoration for Violet Evergarden, the anime and titular character who is in my humble opinion, one of the best written female protagonists I have seen in anime.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going for tonight's broadcast :)

Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment and chaos. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades! 

When you had arrived at the hotel with nothing except the clothes on your back and a suitcase that protected your precious Remington typewriter, the Radio Demon would not deny that he was amused to see a sinner who actually saw his advertisement on the television. After all, no one was taking Charlie seriously, and who would? Apparently you did, but for a different reason: you were looking for a job, a purpose. You said so in the interview, and you were willing to learn. When Vagatha asked what would be considered a flaw in your work ethic, you took off your leather gloves and showed her and Charlie  the alloy prosthetics that acted as your new limbs after losing them in the war.

Why you still had them and why your appearance was wholly human, you did not know. Would this be considered a flaw? You were not sure either. You are still learning about modern technology, especially the handheld devices called cell phones. 

Although the staff was in dire need of someone who could advertise the Hazbin Hotel on the Internet, the princess found something you could do and might be adequate at: gardening. More specifically, being the hotel’s groundskeeper. Someone who can maintain the hotel’s outward appearance and make sure the hell-grass or weeds don’t  get too out of control. You stood up from your seat, feet planted together and saluted Charlie, promising that you will do your best in a monotone voice.

The poor dear did get a little flustered from your actions, but Vagatha did not seem to mind, asking you to follow her upstairs so that she could show you your new room and give you the key. Your first day will be tomorrow. 

Oh, this will be fun~! Alastor thought with a wide grin. Someone new to antagonize and watch fall into the fiery pits of failure! Husk was starting to bore him anyway. 

And he was not disappointed. 

He saw you struggle with holding a garden spade, laying down carpets of fresh grass neatly without trying to crush it between your prosthetic limbs, carrying fertilizer and what flowers to plant! These entertaining events happened within the first week of being here. Is he sorry that his shadows purposely swapped the fertilizer bags and replaced the seed bags to plant roses with rat bait? Absolutely not! 

The more chaos that he created, the more entertained he will be. The anticipation to see you crumble from the pressure and expectations of dear Vagatha and Charlie is almost palpable, he couldn’t wait! 

However, you were not someone who gave up as easily as he hoped you would. 

You kept showing up every day at the exact time, and worked in the garden until Niffty had to drag you inside to have lunch. Then you stayed outside for a bit longer, making sure everything was ready for the following day. You even tried to help out in the kitchen, though you were still struggling to properly hold a knife and chop up vegetables for his jambalaya or cracking eggs in a bowl to help Niffty bake a cake at nine o’clock in the evening because she was bored and wanted something sweet. 

You carried heavy crates of liquor for Husk and even massaged his temples when he complained of a headache. When you discreetly switched out the liquor in his booze for water one time he held a grudge against you for pulling that stunt for almost a week. He eventually forgave you by preparing a Shirley Temple on the house after you politely rejected a whiskey on the rocks because you did not drink alcohol. 

Sir Pentious, the wannabe overlord, was utterly fascinated with your prosthetic limbs and had asked you to let him examine them. That comment earned him a low, menacing growl from Vagatha, spear in hand. The Egg Bois seemed to like you well enough that they tried to help you out in the garden when all they really did was make your job a bit harder. You still thanked them anyway. 

Angel Dust tried to take you shopping for a new wardrobe since you always wore the same outfit every day, but his definition of fashion bordered on risque and flaunting his assets. You were not here to flaunt your appearance, you were here to work, but you thanked him anyway. When he came back to the hotel, staggering inside on wobbly legs and his face covered in black-blue bruises, you were the one who caught him and helped him settle on a table as Husk pulled out a first aid kit. You allowed Angel to put all four of his arms around you and cry on your shoulders, carefully placing your skeletal prosthetics around his back. 

How is it that a single sinner could empathize with everyone here except him? 

This singular thought, this curious idea, is what motivated Alastor to find out more about you. And there is no else in Hell who can spill the tea on someone as accurately as his dear friend Rosie. 

A trip to Cannibal Colony was in order~!  So he did go there, proclaiming he’ll be back before dinner and ignoring Vagatha’s cursing as well as the princess trying to calm down her short-tempered lover. 

As it turned out, he had heard about you, it’s just that the topic in question did not interest him at the time. Rosie conjured up some old newspaper clippings, pointing at the image of you fighting against an exorcist in hand-to-hand combat during the Extermination. This article had been written five years ago, and the one before that? Three years ago. It seemed like you were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you fought back because that is what your life had been before; surrounded by violence, vanquishing enemy forces when they crossed your path. Yet when you did make an appearance, everyone in Hell clamored for any scraps of information. Anything to find out who is the mysterious sinner who looked like a human and could rip off an exorcist’s head bare-handed. 

Now, you were staying at the hotel trying to put whatever remained of your afterlife together. That is your true purpose and now the Radio Demon knew. 

Alastor thanked Rosie for the information and the company, leaving Cannibal Colony in a merry mood. Everything was in place. Everything made perfect sense now.

If you were looking for a way to be useful in his newest project, he can make that happen. All he needs to do is nudge you in the right direction without Charlie and Vagatha around.

They are adorable when they are taking turns being a guard dog around you, you sweet little darling~. 

Taglist

@chroniccorvus

@imperfectbloodmoon

@doc-tooth

@nixie-writes

@riddle-simp

@tired-of-life-86

@blackmageoffandoms

If you would like to be tagged in future yandere hazbin x reader fics, please comment on this post here. If you do not comment, then you will not be added on the taglist.

Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨

TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink

(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)

Entrapment

A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?

~~~~

You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.

He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.

You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.

Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.

The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.

~~~~

The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.

Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.

Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.

Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?

It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.

It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.

“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.

“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?

No.

He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.

He just wouldn’t.

“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”

~~~~

Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?

Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.

It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.

In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.

But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.

Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.

~~~~

Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.

Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.

No more calculating.

No more cunning.

No more being methodic.

No more.

Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.

At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.

One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.

After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.

He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.

Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.

You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.

“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”

yandere!Alastor with gender-neutral!tinkerer!reader headcanons

Warning: obsessive behavior, implied violence, stalking, implied manipulation, and knowledge based on the 2019 pilot episode.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

If you would like to read the SFW version of these headcanons, there are some written by @isuckatwritingsobenice. I will leave the link to them here.

Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice, @angelltheninth, and @ceoofdabicorpsensfw for providing feedback and helping me shape up these headcanons into what they are today, my first Hazbin Hotel fic in quite a long time!

If you would like to me to keep up the momentum and write more for Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss, please let me know via a request or in the comments section below!

With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! :)

Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades!

He will not fall for someone who is naive and oblivious to the dangers that lurk around every corner. His preference for a darling is someone who is intelligent, yet malleable to his manipulative machinations, though he would call it being a considerable gentleman.

So, imagine his surprise when you, the maintenance operator Charlie had hired during the hotel’s open house after being thoroughly impressed with your resume, piqued his interest. He had heard that you were very good at repairing broken things. Whatever it was that needed to be fixed, you could do it efficiently and with a smile.

The only thing you would not touch, however, were Angel’s sex toys. He found you at Husk’s bar, whining and clutching what looked like a purple cucumber with a white handle, coated in….an unknown substance. You looked at it, then back at Angel, confused and blinking owlishly at him. You asked him to hold it up in the light so you could see it, just don’t let it touch you because…well, you really did not want to.

The adult film star did, and you tilted your head to the side, staring at it for a moment before pulling away.

“It should be an easy fix.” You said. “Do you think it is a higher priority than preventing the hotel from being flooded with water?” You asked, glancing up at him. The genuinity in your voice as you spoke to him, curious and asking if fixing his device is really more important at the moment, made Alastor chuckle from the shadows. Dear ol’ Husker looked like he was about to keel over from laughter too~!

“If it’s an easy fix like ya say it is, then yes!” Angel whined. “I need it fixed by tomorrow! Can ya maybe work on it, like, after you make sure this place doesn’t get flooded?”

You blinked. “That shouldn’t be an issue. Okay. Did you try looking for the manual in the box it came in?”

“There’s a manual for it in there?!”

You nodded. “There should be. Or at least a phone number for customer service.”

Oh, such dialogue between two unique characters brightened Alastor’s mundane afternoon considerably and deepened his interest in the ever diligent and mild-mannered sinner who never seemed to stop working!

He watched you from the shadows, learning about your likes and dislikes and your….relationships with the others, clients and hotel staff alike. None of which, as he has seen, never went beyond the boundary of polite professionalism. Imagine his surprise when his shadow discovered your daily ritual to lock yourself in the maintenance office and curl up on the couch in there for an hour nap, and how you cannot sleep without the vintage radio on your desk being played on low volume. As much as he wanted to sweep you off of your feet with a night around the city and a lovely candlelit dinner, Alastor could not act too recklessly. That wasn’t how his mother raised him. No, no, no, he was a gentleman!

And a gentleman knows how to bide his time in the art of courting. Expect him to flood your office with bouquets, expensive gifts, and a request to personally fix his microphone even when it was working just perfectly.

Who knows? Perhaps while you’re sleeping soundly, in your office or in your bedroom, he will turn the knob of your radio just a little to the left so it is the music of his radio station that fills the silence. Think of it as….insurance. With the magic he possessed as an overlord, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to comprehend that he did care about you in his own way. And he would like to think you will, in time, come to enjoy his music with a smile.

After all, you’re never fully dressed without one!

Bonus Content

If you accept his courtship, Alastor’s possessiveness will reach to the point where he will absolutely insist that you should move into his quarters and share the bed. For his peace of mind and your own protection.

After all, you’re his precious little doe. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in this cesspool~.

Taglist

@angelltheninth

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@selineram3421

@vikkirosko

@nixie-writes

@thatstonedwriter

@lbcreations-blog

@aurora-rose-miller

@yosemitecleo

@doc-tooth

yandere! merman!chu wanning with a male!researcher!reader scenario

Warnings: Canon Divergence/Alternate Universe, Obsessive behavior, implied bullying, and OOC.

There may also be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome to the White Husky and His Pet Cat Shizun ficlet that I collaborated with the talented @berrypuddingpwease a while back. Definitely check out their blog if you are interested in this series, or others such as Heavenly Official's Blessing.

So without further ado, sit back, relax, and enjoy! :)

It hadn’t been that long since the merfolks first made contact with the humans, and definitely not enough time for any self-respected scholar to drop everything and study them. Whether it was blessing in disguise or simply dumb luck, you, a leading researcher in xenobiology, volunteered to be the one to carry out the task.

You would live in a small cottage overlooking the sea, near a merfolk’s nest, though you weren’t sure if that is even the correct terminology to use to describe their habitat. It would probably be better to use the terms  lower world and higher world. After all, the merfolks still maintained a cautious line of behavior and were not truly ready to meet any humans, much less a researcher who would be documenting everything about them for the next six to seven months. Thank goodness for generous and curious sponsors. 

Your territory covered a choppy part of the sea, although it is technically under the water. Beneath the waves were beautiful reefs and unusual marine life forms, most of which had not been discovered yet by other biologists, until now. Although you were cautious when diving, the merfolks had warned you about the others living in the lowlands and not to remove anything from their environment unless there was consent from the leader. You began to spend less time swimming in unknown territory and more time on land to communicate with the merfolk who were willingly to participate in a mutual research experiment, all in the name of learning how to coexist with one another. 

The merfolks’ settlement was called the Summit of Life and Death. While you were not well acquainted with the other merfolk, it wasn’t your place to judge why they named certain landmarks or customs that were part of their everyday life. 

However, from the small group of merfolk who were willingly to communicate with you, there is one who kept coming back even when he did not seem like a friendly one at all. His name was Chu Wanning, and his physique resembled more of a shark than a merman with his silver tail that reflected golden right beneath the rays of the sun and his thin, sharp facial features. His eyes were the most fascinating feature of him, in your opinion; the inky irises resembled an eternal winter, or a phoenix who could not be reduced to ashes even if he were at death’s door. 

You did your best to keep your questions as brief as possible while giving him as much personal space as needed so he did not feel more uncomfortable than he already did, though you were always excited to see and talk to him with each passing day. Chu Wanning might believe those lovely webbed hands of his were too ugly for any human to see, but not you. They could not possibly be dry or unpleasant to the touch. Neither could the merman himself, this creature who appeared to have been carved from marble and given life, cold and beautiful. This strange, aloof merman who always maintained eye contact when speaking to you and exchanged information about his culture and customs, but never anything personal. You would never dare to cross that line when he has already given you so much, his words slowly filling the pages of your research journal. 

You did not know what it meant for him when he brought a small group of younger mermen with him on your next visit, but this unexpected development did allow you to interact with the most sociable, talkative, and shameless mermaid you have ever met: Mo Ran. 

Unlike his peers or his mentor, the scales of his obsidian tail shimmered beneath the sunlight as a light shade of crimson. Apparently it was very rare for someone of the merfolk to possess such a dark colored tail as Mo Ran did. Other clans speculate it is a sign of a terrible omen to befall upon those closest to them in the distant future. While he said this with a casual smile, waving it off as superstition…you could see the faintest glimmer of sadness in his eyes, and the way he looked at one of the other mermen, Shi Mei, you believed was his name. 

“If it means anything, coming from a human…I believe your tail is very beautiful.” You said, smiling softly as your deft fingers flipped to another empty page, steadying the pen in your hand. “What else can you tell me about the courting customs between the merfolk?” 

“Why do you want to know so much about us anyway?” He fired back, face flushed, no doubt from exposure to the sun. “Do you plan on courting that cold-hearted bastard? You know it’s forbidden for a merman to interact with humans, much less fall in love with them.”

Your brow disappeared into your hairline at his words. “Chu Wanning has been nothing but polite and cordial towards me in this experiment.” You answered carefully. “Furthermore, all of this information will be collected in a book to share with fellow scholars. If there is anything that he does not wish for me to share with the world, I will gladly omit it. I will not jeopardize our…tentative relationship, for a rise in status. There are more important things in life than being a renowned researcher, you know.” 

Mo Ran just stared at you with a stupefied expression. Perhaps he believed you had ulterior motives, another selfish reason why you would even bother doing all of this. Perhaps he thought you were the oddest human you had ever met. Perhaps this is the first time he had someone speak about his master without any animosity, or any animosity towards his kind. Either way, you hoped he was satisfied with your answer. And he seemed to be, or just decided to change the subject by going into excruciating detail about the courting rituals of mermaids. He was about to sing into your tape recorder and provide an example of the bawdy love poems that were performed by the males to their intended mates, when Chu Wanning suddenly appeared behind the young shark.

He seemed…quite furious. He didn’t even give the poor thing a chance before he lectured the daylights out of Mo Ran, going so far as to say that mermaids do not sing such shameless lyrics unless they are actually desperate to attain the affection of their desired mate, even when they rejected them for whatever reason.

Mo Ran glared balefully at his master for a long moment, then spared you one more glance before he disappeared beneath the white-capped waves with a flick of his glistening tail. 

To your shock, the great Chu Wanning lowered his head and apologized for his disciple’s behavior, promising to punish Mo Ran for acting so unsightly. 

“It’s quite alright, really.” You reassured him quickly. “He wasn’t being disrespectful, he was….very honest. And he kept me company. Though, if I may be so bold to say this, I do enjoy your company quite a bit more than Mo Ran’s.” 

You said, smiling at him, glancing down at your journal briefly to flip to a crisp, new page. “So, where did we leave off from our last conversation? I believe it was something to do with the mythology behind the summit’s origins?”

“…Mn.” 

You took the singular syllable as confirmation, your grin stretching from ear to ear in utter delight and anticipation. What you did not realize back then, your head being so wrapped up in possible theories and many other ideas, is that your companion was physically and mentally relieved to know that you were not besotted with Mo Ran in any manner beyond a scholarly fascination.

It eased his mind tremendously, because he has already begun to secretly make the necessary arrangements to commence a courting ritual of his own. Obviously, you were the one he wished to serenade. The desire to claim you and present all of the treasures in the world at your feet…it’s suffocating, but in such a lovely way that it sent pleasant tremors up his spine at the thought of being your mate, husband, whatever you prefer to refer to a lifelong companion by human terms. 

After all, that’s why you had continued to actively seek him out ever since you have arrived, is it not? Because you see him as not someone who is coveted for his strength and position as the master of Sisheng Peak, but someone who yearns for love, and you believe he is worthy of love and being loved in return even when he is an imperfect, disgusting creature.

Right? 

Taglist:

@abelheilonwife

@yandere-dark-cupid

@sunnyblackbird

@kanroji-san

@sarcastic-cookie

@aestheticllyinmentalagony

@yoruciel

@moonreaper25

@noxiemoon

@hiyoko-akira-san

@sleep-all-day-everyday

@technikerin23

@ceeesxy-blog

@kanroji-san

EEENFBEB YOUR DEMON SLAYER WORK IS SO GOOD, I REMEMBER READING SOME OF IT FROM LIKEEE,, ALMOST A YEAR AGO? I DON'T REMEMBER BUT DHJDJF YOUR WORK IS AMAXINJDD 🫶🫶

Thank you. I love your work too.

Yandere Fae - Temptation

he just wants to know your name, that’s all. he promises.

tw: yandere themes, possessive behaviour, reader is lowkey okay with it, implied murder, unhealthy relationships, stockholm syndrome (?)

“Come now, darling,” he croons, so very sweetly, “it’s just a name. I promise I won’t tell.”

He leans his cheek against your arm, gazing up pleadingly. You sigh as you feel your resolve waver. He— the fae— Lucian, he says his name is but you don’t know if he’s telling the truth.

Fae can’t lie, you’d been told as a child. The people of your town nary spoke of the faekind, save in warning tales. They’d told of weaknesses, of iron and salt. Lies. Falsehoods born from ignorance. Fae could lie, could weave truths of honeyed poison sweeter than any ambrosia. One thing you did know was not to tell one your name. Your grandmother had told you. She was the same woman who warned you of the dangers, who thwarted the ignorant claims of the fellow villagers

“Please.” Lucian all but whines. You can’t help but giggle in amusement. For such a powerful creature, he’s acting as though he were a puppy. “It’s just a name.”

But it’s not just a name. Name’s are powerful. They hold history, stories, one’s very being. So, you’ll refuse him once more. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Lucian tilts his head. The slightest hint of venom tinges his tone. His slit pupils are dilated double their size, like a predator catching sight of its prey. “Tell me your name.”

Lucian’s been persistent in his efforts. Ever since you moved into a cottage deep within the forest. Unable to bear the repetitive, noisy life of your village, you left. He’s been following you ever since you moved in. He’s bound, tethered to the place. To the land. Through magical means you don’t understand. Lucian adores pestering you with questions, and inane conversation, that you’ve grown to enjoy. But above all else, he seems determined to get your name. Not that you plan to give it to him.

He makes a frustrated noise, a pout forming on his lips. “You’re so stubborn.” Lucian complains. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone else, I swear.”

Liar, you think fondly, It’s cute, really, the effort he puts in.

Biting your lip, you briefly contemplate your sanity. Should others find themselves in this situation they wouldn’t be as calm. They’d panic. You should panic. You should probably run for the hills. For it’s not his status as a fae that forebodes danger. He’s— Lucian is complex.

The good-natured mask he wears is just that. A mask. One he wears for you. Your relationship with Lucian is multilayered. Surface level, it is a give and take. What he gives and what you take remains unclear. Surface level, you’re companions. But that implies trust. You don’t trust him. You’re smart enough not too.

“I’m heading out to town.” You tell him. “To the market.”

Lucian huffs. He storms off like a petulant child, intelligibly whining and a pout on his face. You roll your eyes. Gathering a basket and pulling on a cloak, you step out of the cottage. The way to town isn’t marked by a path. You memorize trees and large stones. Landmarks. You trek through the woodlands, thoughts of Lucian occupying your mind.

You hold a certain fondness for him. For the little game you two indulge in. It’s an odd affection, a tired, old one. He makes you cook for him, bemoaning your atrocious mortal cuisine as he eats all of it. He follows you around the cottage with seemingly no concept of personal space. He lingers around you, as if he were a ghost and you his haunt. He entertains you. With tall-tales spun from silk. He offers you gifts in the form of odd trinkets, flowers, nuts, sometimes gems.

Lucian perplexes you. Because despite the casualness of your relationship, you’d be a fool to not be aware of the power imbalance in between the two of you. There’s something dark, dangerous. An ancient, primal magic tethering him to the cottage. To you.

You shake off your wonderings as you reach a clearing. Down, to the left is a quaint little town. It’s sparsely populated, everyone knows everyone, at least everyone who inhabits the area. Locals are wary of travellers, yet they are not so foolish to deny potential patrons business. Their market, tavern, and inn are what’s to be expected of a place such as this. It’s sufficient for your needs, though. Far be it for you to complain.

You stop by the market, examining items being sold by the vendors. As you take an apple in hand, trying to determine whether the produce is worth it’s price, a hand reaches by you. Curiously, you sneak a glance to the person it belongs to.

You’re met with the appearance of a rugged, rogue. Weary from his travels, if you’d have to guess. He gives you half-grin half-smirk that makes your insides flutter. Normally, you’d offer him a flirtatious smile. Perhaps he’d ask to take you out for the night, to the tavern. You’d drink sweet mead and suggest stopping at an inn for the night. Spend it together. Alas, the sanctity of your normal ended upon your meeting with Lucian.

“‘Scuse me, love,” he says, voice a rough timbre. It’s so different than Lucian’s smooth, honeyed lilt. You like it. “You ain’t from ‘round here, eh?”

You nimbly step aside, appreciating the view. You should leave, you know the consequences if you stay. “No.” You tell him. “I live a little ways away.”

He smiles at that. A small little grin that’s almost a smirk. What a dangerous thing, he is. He starts chatting you up. You know what he wants from you and you’re quite certain he knows what he wants from you. You should be beyond such inhibitions— but it’s been so very long since you’d indulged in a bit of fun. So you let him take you back to his inn, slip something in his beer so when he’s done and your sated, he’ll slip right off. The moment he does, you slink away, trekking through the woods back home. Most people wouldn’t, scared of the dangers lurking. But the forest knows that the true danger resides within your home, guaranteeing your safety.

The moment you make it back, Lucian appears, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Entertaining night?”

His tone is frigid and cold, almost the same as his usual indifference. But you know him better than that. “Very.” You hum. “And yet, I’m here with you.”

“Yet you’re here with me.” He parrots. The shift in his demeanour is almost imperceptible, a change so subtle it appears meaningless. You watch as he slinks away, the satisfaction of his tone lingering throughout your mind. The affirmation, to both him and you, that you were here. That you came crawling back to him. That the pull, the tether he held on your being remained tight as ever.

That you were—

Not his. You were still your own being. You let out a shaky sigh and head up to bed. You’ve had too much to drink, you tell yourself. The next morn, when you awaken, groggily blinking, something immediately feels off. After living like this— after living with him— for so long, you’ve come to understand to trust your intuition while ignoring the warning bells ringing in your head.

You head down the stairs. Your body is heavy from your hang over. It dulls your senses. You know you need to be on guard, lest Lucian have his way. Speak of the devil, you muse, as he leans on the kitchen island smugly. “Rough night?”

“Don’t.” You warn, grabbing a pot and filling it with water to boil. Lician laughs. His laughter sharp and smooth. “Forgive me, lovely.” He croons. “I do not intend to rouse that temper of yours.”

You eye him suspiciously. Of course, you’re always suspicious in regards to him, but this behaviour is odd. Odder than usual. He usually demands you cook for him, asks for your name, then huffs when you rebuff him. It’s routine and Lucian isn’t one for breaking routine. You rake over his handsome, pointed features. He sports an usual grin. Self-satisfied and almost victorious. Then, you spot a crimson splatter along the underside of his throat.

“Is there something wrong, lovely?” He inquires, tilting his head almost as if to show you the blood stained on his neck.

Don’t give in. Don’t pay attention to it. You learned early on giving in only worsens his behaviour. “No.” You answer firmly. You avoid his question, evasive and ignorant. Your ignorance serves as a shield. “I ought to make something, barely ate yesterday.”

Lucian’s eyes flicker with both annoyance and pleasure. “Make me some too.” He orders, before sauntering off.

It sends a shiver down your spine, your compliance. Barely able to deny him, yet unable to give into him. It irks him. It also pleases him. It’s a game between the two of you. One neither of you can quit. You tow the line each time, out of selfishness. The desire to be free. To be as it was. It ends in his possessive fits, with blood shed, staining your hands crimson. Yet you continue. His attention is intoxicating. As addicting as mead. It drives you mad, tantalizes you, taunts you. But you don’t give in fully. Can’t. At least, not yet.

“Come now, lovely. I know you wish to fall into temptation with me.”

Now that the truce has ended, don’t call for a 'permanent ceasefire', call for the end of the occupation. As long as Palestine is occupied, Palestinians will never know peace. Even if the Israeli army left Gaza in this very moment, Palestinians will still face brutal suppression at the hands of the Israeli state. Apartheid laws will still remain. Palestinian children will continue to get kidnapped and tortured in prisons. Armed Israeli settlers will continue to act as shook troops in the Occupied Territories.

The state of Israel must be dismantled and occupation must end for such a permanent ceasefire to happen. Support the end of the occupation.

Yandere Platonic bakudaku x reader could it be fantasy au please ,maybe reader found them all beaten up after the boys were fighting goblins ( or their could have saved her/them from the goblins) and they all travels together only for them to prevent the reader from dating anyone?

Yandere BakuDeku Fanatasy AU

tw: Yandere Themes, Suggested Orphan Reader, Protectiveness, Obsession, Violence

You had been travelling with your companions for nearly two years now. Katsuki Bakugo was a strong warrior and his partner, Izuku Midoriya, or Deku as he was more commonly known, was a skilled alchemist. You don’t know what string of fate lead you all together, since your meeting was completely coincidental. Although it mostly was because of your foolish actions- something you prefer not to think about.

You’ve always been a free-spirited child, running amok and causing chaos wherever you took up residence. That chaos often lead to you being kicked out of the villages and towns that took you in, leaving you to fend for yourself. The day you met Bakugo and Deku, you had been journeying through a forest in search of another place that would take pity upon you. You were frolicking along the path in the forest which was cleared for travellers. That was until something caught your eye.

It was a lovely flower sitting just past the side of the path. The flower was so pretty and you wanted to see it up close. You bit your lip lightly dur to your apprehension. You’d heard the cautionary tales told by travelling merchants and adventurers, warning not to venture into the forest. You decided it couldn’t be that bad-it lay merely a few feet ahead. Humming, you went to inspect the flower and plucked it. You would have turned around to leave but then you saw another flower which looked even prettier a few feet ahead. You pondered whether to return to the path or not. The flower was gorgeous and you could still see the path. So you decided to venture a little bit deeper into the forest to pick that one as well.

You saw yet another flower more striking than the previous, and after considering less carefully this time around, opted to go pick it. It became a pattern as you threw caution aside and happily ventured deeper and deeper into the forest. As the sun begins to set, you finally decide to return. However, you’ve gone too deep into the forest and you have absolutely no clue which way you came from. You gulp nervously. What creatures and monsters lurked and prowled in the cover of the night?

Your question would be answered when you saw a hoard of little impish creatures- goblins. Long pointed ears and equally pointed teeth. Short, green bodies with disgusting boils all along their rough skin. They howled at you, although it really was more of a shriek. You screamed out if fear and ran as fast as you could through the forest. You didn’t know where you were running too, but you couldn’t care less. All that mattered was escaping those horrid little beasts. Then, you tripped over a root you hadn’t seen. You hissed in pain, clutching your foot. The goblins caught up to you, much to your horror. You scuttled away into a thick tree, ignoring the intense pain. You let out a pained whimper and squeezed your eyes shut. Suddenly there was a yell, and flashes of colour that dizzied you. You were too exhausted and shocked to comprehend what wad happening. All you could make out was someone coming up to you before the world faded to darkness.

You groaned as you awoke, a bright light shone brightly. You blinked to adjust yourself to the light. Once you finally adjusted your vision, you furrowed your brows in confusion. were in a room, a nice one at that. The light was from the window on your right, the sun had risen already. Did that mean it was midday? You put aside your musings as you awed at the room itself. The room was the finest you’ve ever been in, for you’d never amassed enough money to stay in an upperclass inn. The bedding was soft and warm. You took a moment to enjoy the small luxury before snapping back to reality. How did you end up here? What happened to the goblins?

“You’re up!” someone exclaimed as they opened the door. You tensed slightly and they put their hands up to reassure you. “Ah, I’m sorry you must be surprised. My name is Izuku but everyone calls me Deku.”

“Oh, okay Mr. Deku, I’m alright. Did you bring me here?” You asked relaxing.

“Mmhmm, my partner Kacchan and I heard your scream. We ran to find you and those goblins. You fainted after we found you so we brought you to the inn.” said Deku, “What was a kid doing out there anyways?”

“Well I was walking along the forest path and then I saw this really pretty flower that was just a bit off the path.I know you’re not supposed to wander off but it was really close! So I went to go pick it. Then I saw an even prettier flower and I went to go pick that flower. The deeper I went, the more beautiful the flowers were and I didn’t notice until the sun began to set. That’s when the goblins attacked me and I ran.” You recounted.

Deku couldn’t help but laugh. Honestly you were so adorably naïve! You’d pranced into a forest known to be filled with dangerous monsters to pick flowers. You blushed furiously and pouted at him but that only caused Deku to laugh more. As your face reddened with childish anger and embarrassment, Deku ceased his laughter and apologized to you, an apology you barely accepted. Your stomach growled with hunger and you became flustered once again. Deku smiled gently and offered you to join him for lunch. An offer you eagerly accepted. You made your way to the dining hall of the inn, a warm and jovial place, filled with the scent of warm food and booze.

“Hey, so the kid finally woke up, huh.” Spoke a gruff voice which caused you to squeak.

“Kacchan! Be more gentle,” Deku admonished.

Bakugo huffed before glancing at you. You really were small and weak. Why you would ever go into that forsaken forest was beyond him. Well it didn’t really matter because he was just going to drop you off at the orphanage here. Nursing his ale, Bakugo watched Deku fuss over you. Honestly, what did he think he was doing? Deku had tried to convince him to take you with them, but Bakugo couldn’t do that. You were to fragile to travel alongside them, you would only be a hindrance. That was something Deku couldn’t- or refused to see.

However that plan came to a halt when the orphanage told him that they simply just didn’t have the room or the funds to take in another child. Frustrated, Bakugo was told that they next town over had a good orphanage. Bakugo groaned while a wide grin enveloped Deku’s face, you were going to stay with them for a little while longer it seems. You were excited of course. I mean they were adventurers! You were practically going on a quest. Bakugo shut that dream down quickly, letting out too many some ground rules. You became crestfallen until Deku distracted you with some basic alchemical creations. Deku glared at his partner but Bakugo remained unmoved. They would drop you off at the next town over and be done with you.

But alas, fate didn’t seem to share the same idea. As you traveled with them, you grew on them, more specifically Bakugo. You were just so happy and energetic. Your smile put the sun to shame, it was that bright. You truly fit in to the little family that Bakugo had made with Deku, but it was finally complete. Bakugo was raised with the barbarian traditions. Barbarians treasure their children, never abandoning them. So with Deku so insistent, and in accordance with barbarian traditions, he couldn’t leave you at the orphanage. Once you all arrived at the town, you and Deku didn’t part tearfully. Instead, Bakugo told you both that you were just here to pick up supplies, leaving you and Deku overjoyed.

You’ve travelled with them ever since. You’ve learned everything they could teach you, and even taught yourself some skills. Bakugo and Deku have watched you grow and they couldn’t be prouder. Recently, you’ve all stopped at a quant village. More notable than anything else in the village, is the charming farmhand that resides there. The adorable freckles dotting their face and their playful smile that makes your heart flutter. At first, it was passing glances which evolved into fleeting touches. But soon it became a relationship, one that you were keeping secret.

Now, Bakugo and Deku aren’t idiots, they can tell something is off with you. And when they find out about your relationship, Bakugo is livid. He wants to end the farmhands miserable life right then and there. Deku, on the other hand, knows how heartbroken you’d be if they ripped you two apart. Your heart may have to be broken, but who says it has to be them who break it? With a little threatening and a few minor injuries, the farmhand finally understands that they’re unworthy of you.

And when they finally do break up with you, you’re utterly devastated. When Deku and Bakugo find you sobbing, they immediately comfort you. Deku reassures you and asks you what’s wrong. You tell them everything, apologizing for keeping it a secret. Deku hushes you, while Bakugo, in a low murmur, asks for a name.

Don’t worry, they’ll always be there for you. Always.

Hi I really enjoyed reading YANDERE PLATONIC TENGEN AND HIS WIVES ,do you think I could request yandere platonic tanjiro and nezuko hcs please💓

Yup and I’m so glad you liked Tengen and his wives.

TW: Yandere Themes, Overprotectiveness, Violence, Potential Anime Spoilers

Yandere Kamado Siblings

•You’re the third eldest of your family, a responsible and caring child. You and the Kamados’ had a wonderful and peaceful life. You would help Nezuko care for your younger siblings, and aid Tanjiro with selling coal.

•But all that changed when you and Tanjiro went out to sell coal and came back to discover that Muzan had killed your family- all except for Nezuko. Although she’s been turned into a demon, Nezuko doesn’t attack you. It’s as if her instincts are telling her not too. When Giyuu arrives you beg and plead for sister, only to be shoved aside. This angers both Tanjiro and Nezuko. However, Giyuu outmaneuvers both of them and knocks them out

•After that Giyuu directs you all to Urokodaki. During your journey Tanjiro holds your hand, until the demon attack and Nezuko kills it. Once they arrive at Urokodaki, Tanjiro comes to the conclusion that your safety comes above all else. He’s training to be a demon slayer, and Nezuko is a demon; but you? You’re their baby sibling, the only one left. They can’t lose you.

•Much to your protest, Tanjiro forbids you to become a demon slayer and makes you stay with Urokodaki when he isn’t there. Due to the danger he faces on missions, Tanjiro decides that you should remain with Urokodaki. And as much as it hurts him to leave you, and separate you and Nezuko, it has to be done. No amount of pleading or begging will change his mind.

•With Urokodaki, you find some semblance of peace. You miss your siblings, truly, but you enjoy the sense of freedom you found here. But that doesn’t last long because you’re reunited with them during the events of rehabilitation training arc, curtesy of Giyuu.

•Tanjiro and Nezuko are ecstatic to see you again! They’ve missed you so much. And you’re happy to see them too, of course. It’s just that, they’ve changed a little.

•Nezuko clings to you, constantly hugging you and patting your head. She will start sobbing if you try to leave her. And Tanjiro is no help considering he’s just as attached. You love them, you really do, but you need personal space.

•They’re also insanely protective, you’re barely allowed outside of Butterfly Manor when they’re there. You can just go outside for five minutes and they’ll be on your case. Nezuko will be wailing and cuddling you tightly while Tanjiro will scold you for leaving without them. What if you had gotten hurt or worse?! They’d never be able to live with themselves!

•Tanjiro wants nothing more for you to be happy, but your safety takes priority. Plus, you’ve got him and Nezuko and they’re all you’ll ever need. So just be good and let them take care of you.

YANDERE PLATONIC TENGEN AND HIS WIVES TW: Yandere, Possessive Behaviour, Injuries, Mild Gore(?), Violence

You probably drew Tengen’s attention first and foremost. How? You’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you were going about your day when the massive, flamboyant Sound Hashira crashed into your life.

You were awestruck, I mean how couldn’t you be? You’ve just barely reached the rank of Kanato, and before you stands a Hashira, one of the strongest members the corps!

Tengen doesn’t understand his feelings right away, denying his new-found obsession for you. He only insists on you going with you on every mission, spending every single minute possible with you because of how flamboyant you are.

But his jealousy flares every time you gush about Rengoku’s strength, or Shinobu’s intelligence.

He’s the one who recognized your flamboyant potential. He’s the one who improved your swordsmanship skills. He’s the one who raised you to the rank of Hinoe with just two months of training.

Still unable to recognize his growing obsession with you, he finds the solution to all his problems, you can just become his Tsukago! His and his alone. And of course, you’re elated. Not just because of the promotion, but rather because Tengen thinks you’re worthy enough to become his successor.

And obviously, as his only successor, you should meet his wives. Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru all adore you. You’re just the sweetest thing, aren’t you? All flustered with the attention they’re giving you. So humble too! Adamantly denying your skills. You got to where you are because of Tengen, only because of his training were you ae to accomplish all that you have.

Tengen’s heart swells with pride watching you with his family, you and his family. It is perfect and flamboyant, because you are with him and you are safe until suddenly you aren’t. Until suddenly you’re on your first mission together as his Tsukago, and it’s harder than anything you’ve ever faced.

It’s perfect until one of the many demons that swarm you endlessly manages to land a hit. And suddenly, you’re in his arms bleeding. There’s so much blood, your blood. He gently cradles your body in his arms, trembling with anger at your pitiful form. In a blind fit of rage, Tengen slaughtered the remaining demons.

He angrily demanded the Kakushi to give you the best treatment possible, as your breathing became slower and steadier.

Tengen has Shinobu treat you, and he remains by your side along with his wives until you finally regain consciousness. Immediately, everyone sprang to action, Suma began sobbing tears of joy, Makio shouts alternate between demanding for a doctor and questioning your condition frantically, Hinatsuru attempts to soothe you, reaching to place a placating hand on your shoulder.

All of this overwhelms you, which is noticed by Tengen, who orders his wives out of the hospital room. Tengen manages to calm you down and explains your condition. You’ve been injured, badly. He says Shinobu orders at least two months bed rest. You try to sit up to protest, but the pain sears through you at the sudden moment. Begrudgingly, you agree.

Tengen remains by your side, caring for you, and when he can’t, his wives are more than happy to step up. Soon, the realization dawns on Tengen that he likes you being like this. A little baby who relies on him and his wives, on their papa and mamas. The delusional gears begin to turn, and his protective instincts are driven to a high.

After two months pass, you’re still being babied by Tengen and his wives, despite you feeling fine. And it’s not that you’re ungrateful for their care, but you want to go out on missions again, you want to do your job. But Hinatsuru shuts down all talk of being better by masterfully changing the topic of your conversation. Makio always scolds you, albeit gently, because don’t you recall the severe pain you felt? And Suma is by far the worst, she begins bawling at the thought of you being potentially in danger. So really, you have no other choice but to ask Tengen.

“No.”

“No?” You repeat dumbly, baffled by the audacity he held.

“Yes, no. I forbid you from going on missions.” Tengen declares, leaving you speechless.

He forbids you?! Who does he think he is? Sure, you’re grateful for all his and his wives help, but that doesn’t mean he can just forbid you from going on missions. You’re a member of the corps, just like he is. And while you may not be a Hashira, you are certainly skilled. Besides, what’s the point in all his training just to not go on missions anymore?

“You are my flamboyant Tsukago,” Tengen says, “and as your flamboyant master, you must respect me and my decisions.”

You felt mild anger surge through you at the implication of you not respecting him. All you have felt since you meet the swordsman was respect and admiration. You honed your skills so you could fight alongside him and be a worthy successor.

“I do respect you!” You protest. “But you trained me so I could be your successor, the next Sound Hashira!”

Tengen gives an irritated sigh. Your stubbornness was flamboyant, but rather troubling.

Huffing, you turn to leave, “This is my job, so I’m going to get my next mission, no matter what you say!”

Tengen lets out a soft sigh once more, before swiftly landing a hit to back of your neck. He silently catches you and holds you in his arms. If only you could be a little less difficult. Don’t get him wrong, he loves your flamboyant spirit, but he just can’t let you get hurt again. And you were correct, being a demon slayer was your job, but not anymore. You won’t need a job. You’re a baby, his baby. So he and his wives will take care of you. As he glances down at you, slumped in his arms, a serene look on your face. Yes, he assured himself, this is what you needed.

Fandom List

Fandoms:

-Demon Slayer

-My Hero Academia

-Black Butler

-Attack on Titan

-Fairy Tail

-Blue Exorcist

-Naruto

-Death Note

-Haikyuu

-Inuyasha

-Jujutsu Kaisen

-DC Comics

-DC Animated Universe

-Young Justice

-Marvel Comics

-Marvel Cinematic Universe

-Greek Mythology

-Game of Thrones/ASOIAF

-Bleach

-Resident Evil

-Studio Ghibli Films

-Lord of The Rings/The Hobbit

-The Boys

-Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms(Books and shows)

-Percy Jackson Series

-The Umbrella Academy

-Otome Isekai Manhwas (e.g WMMAP)

Masterlist

Jujustu Kaisen:

Yandere Mafia Boss Sukuna

Yandere Platonic Sukuna

Addiction - Yandere Mafia Boss Sukuna

Yandere First/Second Years: Trying to Escape

BNHA/MHA:

Yandere Platonic Fantasy BakuDeku

Yandere Villain Deku + Toga x Vigilante Reader

Difference between platonic + romantic yanderes Aizawa + Deku ask

Marvel:

Yandere Miguel O'Hara - Platonic + Romantic

Yandere Romantic Namor

KNY/Demon Slayer:

Yandere Platonic Tengen + His Wives

Yandere Platonic Douma

Yandere Platonic Kamado Siblings

General Yandere Muichirou

Miscellaneous:

Altar - Yandere Diety

Yandere Deity - Altar

tw: yandere behaviour, possessive/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, diety uses he/him pronouns, gaslighting, yandere using his abilities to mess with reader’s perception of reality

“Haven’t you come to worship at my altar?”

•A lone Deity part of a forgotten pantheon, lost to the sands of time. What once was a bountiful temple; filled with offerings and gifts of fruits, meats, candles, with sounds of prayers and hymns of worship ringing through the halls, people streaming in to sing his praise, is now nothing but an empty ruin.

•He’s so very lonely. Nary a person has come to visit him in centuries. Years pass by and he has nothing, no one. Until you. A fateful eve when you happen upon the temple. Hidden away in the heart of a lush jungle, you, an archaeologist, find your El Dorado, your city of gold. You’d long since heard tales of a lost civilization, an Atlantis on land. Yet, here the remnants lay in front of your eyes.

•At the heart of the ruins lays a temple, grand and golden. Although time has chipped away at its’ grandeur, it’s still glorious, in your opinion. It’s a testament to humanity’s evolution. You don’t notice him though, no one does. But he’s noticed you. Nosy little thing, aren’t you? Impudent, little mortal wretch. He ought to kill you for your audacity. Daring to defile his sacred temple, you deserve nothing but the most painful end,

•But, you’re not actually defiling it, are you? You’re so respectful, treating every artifact as though it were the Holy Grail. You revere his temple, it’s a wonder, a marvel to you. It, you treatment, you reverence— you make him feel something new, something foreign. The attention you give him is intoxicating. He’s been forgotten, left behind. Yet, you’re here now. And he isn’t going to let you go.

•So, when a series of natural disasters occurs and suddenly your team is halved, some leaving after the first incident, others meeting fates you don’t want to recall. The others are slowly losing hope, they’ve lost friends, money, time to your passion project. This is your life’s work, you can’t just give up, can you? You don’t want to. You really don’t. But you’re smart enough to know when to cut your losses.

•Then, another freak accident hits. This time is more devastating. Nobody escaped unscathed, nobody escapes at all. Nobody is except for you. You slip in and out of consciousness. One moment, you’re in the rubble amongst your dead coworkers and friends, and suddenly you’re in a bed, soft and warm. You’re delirious, unable to actually make out anything. But you’re certain there’s someone taking care of you. A man. A beautiful man, something, someone, divine. His touch is soft and gentle. Caring even. He placates you with sweet platitudes you can’t quite comprehend in this state, but the smooth baritone of his voice makes your heart soar.

•When you fully regain consciousness, you’re able to see your surroundings. You’re in a room filled with luxury. Ornate decor, golden furniture, the whole nine yards. It’s impressive, if not a little, a lot, off-putting. How did you get here? Who was the man taking care of you? Thousands of questions and thoughts flood your mind. It’s interrupted by him, the man.

“You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”

•You blink in confusion. It’s—he’s— everything is too much. Too overwhelming. He chuckles, it’s a rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. He reassures you, slowly and gently placing a strong hand of on your shoulder. There’s something commanding in his soft tone, something compelling you to swallow the lump in your throat and obey. He laughs again and you blush.

•He introduces himself as the one who’s been taking care of you. Doesn’t offer you any explanation as to why, but you ought to be grateful. After all, you could have been left out to die. He offers you food and water. You eat like a man starved and drink the water as though it were the sweetest ambrosia. He offers to let you stay here— where is here?— with him.

“You may leave whenever you decide to leave.”

•He promises, even escorts you out of the room, down halls that moves and shift, and spin around. You’re dizzy, delirious, unable to care for yourself. He carries you back to the room. How embarrassing. Your apologies when you regain your composure are shrugged off. It’s fine, he insists. You’re sick, vulnerable. He reiterates his offer, stay until you get better— you could’ve sworn he said stay forever— and are able to fend for yourself. You nod your head in agreement. It’s the logical choice, really. You’d probably die on your own.

•He smiles a brilliant smile at you, swears he’ll care for you diligently. And he has been, hasn’t he? You’re beginning to trust him, have faith— why?— in him. He stays true to his word. Working tirelessly to care for not only your body but your mind as well. Sleepless nights are spent with him by your side, telling you folktales and myths, singing soft lullabies to lull you to sleep, or even merely conversing with you. Days are spent improving your health. He feeds you by hand sometimes when you are too weak to do it yourself. When your health shows signs of improvement, you both go on walks, exploring the extensive gardens and many palace— temple, building, you’re not sure where you are— halls.

•He gifts you with many things too. Soft silk robes, shining jewels, ancient tomes and books, everything you desire you’re given. It’s not your fault, really, that you start to love him— do you?— especially not when’s he’s so kind. So handsome, beautiful really. He looks inhuman, like something divine. He’s attentive and nurturing. Your own prince charming. Your feelings grow as time progresses— how long has it been, you need to leave— until you can’t contain it.

•One day, as he presses a warm cloth to your forehead, you notice just how close he is. How he’s just out of touch. You greedily drink it in, unconsciously inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. The kiss is soft, chaste and you immediately pull away. Your stammering and feeble apologies are interrupted by his hand cupping your cheek. He leans in, your heart thumping in your chest, and kisses you again. This time, you don’t pull away.

•He, your lover, your heart loves you too. It’s surreal— too surreal— and your days spent together become all the more special. You’re utterly content with him, he’s become the air you breathe, the light of your life, you’re everything. It’s only natural for you to become consumed by him. By your life with your beloved— to forget you ever had a life before— spending eternity forever in his arms.

“We only have until forever, love.”

Yandere Miguel O’Hara Headcanons

a/n: there are two routes platonic and romantic, which will be bolded and colour-coded like this, please forgive my spanish i am breaking out my high school spanish classes.

tw: yandere themes, possessive, obsessive, and controlling behaviour, potential spoilers, suggestive themes (romantic route), captivity, canonical inaccuracies, implied neglect (platonic route)

•Becoming the hero Arachnid wasn’t something you ever planned on happening. You were just going about your regular, every day life when a radioactive spider bit you. The spider that bit you gave you amazing powers that you utilized to become the amazing, the one and only friendly neighbourhood Arachnid! Then, you were suddenly pulled into another dimension that was almost exactly like yours and discovered that you weren’t the only one of well you after all.

•You, alongside other spider-themed heroes, joined forces against Kingpin in order to return to your home dimensions. However, that wasn’t your last adventure with the multiverse. Your next encounter would occur a few months after your first misadventure. Having finished fighting the Green Goblin, you were ready to end the night there. Then, a portal similar to the one that brought you to Miles’ dimension opened up. Out came a tall, well-muscled Spider-Man and a Spider-Woman

•They introduced themselves as Miguel O’Hara and Jessica Drew and informed of the Spider society they’d formed. You were offered membership by them. Well, by Jessica. Miguel was staying silent. You don’t know why, but you felt as though he was watching you. He was, of course, he was right in front of you, but this felt eerie. Your senses were telling you something was wrong but Jessica was so nice and you really were excited and honoured to be given such an opportunity. So, you take it.

Romantic Route:

•Miguel stared at you intently. He’d been watching you for a while now, observing. You resemblance was uncanny— you looked exactly like his spouse. Not his spouse exactly, but the one the other had. You looked like the partner that Miguel had grown to love alongside his daughter. A variant of them. Although he was initially against you joining, it would be easier to watch you— look out for you if you joined the lobby.

•After your acceptance, Miguel tasked Jessica with guiding you around the lobby. He didn’t trust anyone else and he couldn’t bare to do it himself. He couldn’t handle himself around you. It wasn’t just your appearance that was uncanny, it was everything. You mannerisms, habits, likes, interests, everything. How Miguel yearned for you. Yearned to feel your touch, your kiss. Yearned for the happiness he once knew.

•But that would break the canon, wouldn’t it? The memories of his world, his family fading from existence because he broke the canon. He couldn’t let that happen again. So, he behaved coldly towards you. But as Miguel continued to watch you and interact with you, he started to doubt. You were a variant of his partner, but your dimension didn’t have a variant of Miguel O’Hara. Perhaps, he rationalized, this was canon. Your fates were meant to be intertwined. He needed you and you needed him. That was canon.

•Miguel strikes when you least expect. Spends weeks carefully planning. He stalks you, memorizes your routine to a point. He assigns you a mission, not overly-difficult but not easy. Something to tire you out. With your senses dulled and the weariness from the fight left you susceptible to his attack. Quickly, stealthily and by surprise, he subdued you. His sharp fangs biting into the tender skin of your neck, paralyzing you.

•When you come to, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. Yet there are familiar objects lying around; trinkets and photos that had disappeared. Your spidey-senses were going off the rails and that’s when he came.

“Miguel?”

•He tells you you’re here for your safety and for the safety of your dimension. Swears you’re meant to be with him, that it’s canon. Warns you of the consequences if you break the canon. You stare at him, intaking his audacity. Then, you shriek at him. Call him out on his absolute bull. Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He ignores your screeching and leaves. Obviously, you’re still in shock. You’ll come around.

•Almost a month later, lo and behold, you still haven’t come around to being pliant with your captor. Miguel is a man of many things, but patience is not one. He is so very tired, having to deal with Lyla’s teasing and the other Spider’s bullshit. Is it too much to ask to come home to his loving spouse? Just like he used to.

•Apparently, it is. Seeing as you aren’t his spouse, but someone he locked up, you scream at him. Unholy screeches whenever you see him. Today, Miguel’s had enough. Large hands wrap around you and slam you against the headboard of the bed you’re chained too.

“Enough.” He hisses. “¡Mierda! I won’t hear it. ¿Me entienden? You stay here. If the safety of the multiverse won’t convince then maybe the safety of your aunt will.”

•The moment the vague threat passes over you freeze entirely. You’ve lost almost everyone, everyone but her. Carefully, you suck in air. Large tears brim at the edges of your eyes. as you look Miguel directly in the eyes. His eyes, dark and dangerous, bore back into yours.

“Please Miguel,” you whisper. “I’ll stay. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt her.”

•Miguel softens at your submission. However, he still doesn’t trust you. He pulls himself off you and stalks out, leaving you laying on the bed, dazed. From that day forewords, you become more compliant. You listen to Miguel and don’t fight him. Miguel knows that he can’t keep you locked away forever. People were asking questions. With your ‘good’ behaviour, you’ll be granted more privileges. More freedom, if that’s what you can call it. You’ll never truly be free, trapped under Miguel’s watchful eyes. But you’re able to go into the lobby again. To talk with people, even if you do so bearing Miguel’s marks. You know you can’t escape him, not when he could take away the little you had left, not when he would hunt you down through every universe. For now, you know you can’t escape Miguel’s grip.

Platonic Route:

•When Miguel saw you for the first time, he felt the world stop around him. It was as though there was nobody else but you and him. You, who was the only variant of his dead child that wasn’t truly his. He watched as you swung around, mocking villains and making clever quips. Miguel’s heart ached for you, for himself, for his dead daughter and child. As he watched you, memories of holding his child as they died because of him resurface. Once more, does Miguel feel the bitter sting of grief and loss.

•Oh, how Miguel desires to hold you, to cradle you close and never let go. But he can’t, he won’t. You’re not his child. You’re not the child he failed to protect. No, you’re a child he can protect. Thus, his decision to allow you to join the spider-society, if only to watch over you and protect you. Your family clearly isn’t doing a good job at it. Miguel spends more time than necessary looking after you. Not that he meant to, of course. You were just so vulnerable. You needed guidance. You may have been s superhero but you were also a child.

•Under Miguel’s guidance you thrive. He teaches you proper fighting techniques, improves your web-shooters and other tech you have and acts as the father figure you need. His teaching method is firm yet gentle. Miguel remains stern, however, everyone notices how soft he is with you. Life is good in the lobby. To be honest, sometimes you consider staying forever. Or more accurately, Miguel implies you should.

•Yes, he was originally not going to interfere. But it was you who made the decision to stay, so obviously that meant something. And Miguel wouldn’t lie, whenever you returned to your Earth to fulfill your duties as Arachnid, he could barely think he was so worried. Every villain encounter, every scrape and bruise is another chance to fail to protect his child. Miguel gets more desperate over time. Your time in the lobby is almost exclusively spent with him. Every mission is with him, every meal is with him, almost every moment is spent by Miguel’s side. And honestly? You’re starting to get s little sick of it.

•Not that you were complaining. You’re so grateful for the opportunities Miguel gave you, but he’s so overbearing. Maybe it’s normal, you rationalize, you’re family isn’t very close. Besides, you’ve seen Peter B. Parker with Mayday. Even Miguel isn’t that clingy. Your senses are blaring danger and to get away, but your yearning for love and affection suppress them. You continue to push down your instincts until you can’t. Until you decide to listen to your doubts— only to prove them wrong, of course. However, just your luck, your instincts are proven correct. You discover a goddamn tracker implanted in your arm.

•Finally, everything clicks. Everything Miguel does? Not normal! Just creepy, especially this. Thus, you decide to leave. You dig out your tracker and stitch the wound back up. You leave the tracker where you know Miguel will find it and leave, discarding your portal bracelet. You return to your Earth for the final time, intent on never leaving again.

•When Miguel returns to find your tracker and no trace of you, he goes ballistic. You left, he can’t protect you. You’ll get hurt, you’ll die. Miguel can’t risk losing you. He travels to your Earth in search of you. There, he tracks you down to find you losing badly against the Green Goblin. You’re clutch your ribs, bruised and bloody. The moment he sees you like this, Miguel enters a blazing fury. He attacks the Goblin viciously, pounding him until a sickening crunch is heard and the Goblin’s neck snaps. You collapse, from your injuries and the shock of witnessing Miguel kill the Goblin.

•Your chest seizes, hyperventilating. You can hear your heart beat racing as Miguel turns to you. He watches you panic and slowly paces towards you. You attempt to scoot away, but you can barely move. Miguel’s mask is off. You can see his eyes being filled with the same eerie softness as the day you met. Carefully, he leans down and large hands grasp onto you. You struggle as best you can, squirming despite the pain.

“¡Ay! Cariño.” He admonishes gently. “Be still, you’ll hurt yourself.”

•Regardless of his orders, you continue to squirm. Sighing, Miguel extended his fangs and bit down on your neck. Paralyzed, you fall limp in his arms. Carefully, he maneuvers you so to not hurt you. He cradles you to his chest as he inspects you over.

“We’ll get you checked out when we go to your new room. ¿Estàts bien?”

•Unable to do anything, you lay helpless in Miguel’s arms as he takes you to your new fancy prison cell— or room as he calls it. From there, you’ll be safe. Somewhere only Miguel knows, a place he can be certain he can protect you. Yes, you’ll stay locked away in your gilded cage, guarded by Miguel. Safe from the world, from every threat but him.

May I make a request for Muichiro?

General Yandere Muichiro Headcanons

a/n: reader is the same age as Muichiro in this, can be read as platonic or romantic

tw: yandere themes, overprotective behaviour, potential spoilers for Muichiro’s backstory

•Muichiro, despite his young age, has many impressive feats. Being the youngest member of the Hashira has gained him notoriety— though most of his notoriety stems from his apathy.

•His blunt and air-headed nature often scares people off. He doesn’t mind or care. But then, there was you. A seemingly constance in his life. Originally, Muichiro didn’t care for or about you. Especially when you were so beneath him. You were a lowly Kanoe while he was a Hashira. Regardless, you seemed determined to remain by his side and he didn’t care enough to stop you.

•Eventually, he becomes accustomed to your prescription in his life. You’re something to remember- something Muichiro lacks. While his demeanour doesn’t change outright, there are subtle differences that indicate his attachment to you. He acts more considerate towards you than others and tolerates your behaviour that he wouldn’t tolerate from anyone else.

•His feelings become more obvious after he regains his memories. Once he remembers the loss of his parents and brothers, Muichiro develops overly protective tendencies. The loss of his family burns fresh through his memory and influences his treatment of you. He doesn’t want to even imagine losing you. Also, similar to his treatment of Tanjiro, Muichiro openly begins to display his affection and bias towards you.

•Overall, Muichiro is a very lax yandere. He isn’t doesn’t meddle with your daily life or your relationships with other. He also doesn’t limit your freedom, at least until he regains his memories. Even then, Muichiro only really prevents you from going on really dangerous missions, or will accompany you if you do go.

good luck on your exams ;_; 🫶 sending love ur way

Thank you! Honestly at this point all I want is to pass 🙃

Would anyone be interested in a Hades/Persephone au version of this?

Yandere Namor Headcanon

an: I’ll work on requests I swear, I’ve just been obsessed with this man

tw: yandere themes, Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Spoilers, stalking, overprotective behaviour, kidnapping, captivity, ooc

•Namor, a child without love as he’d been cursed, did not have it within his heart to love another. His love lay with his people. That was until he happened upon you. An inquisitive human who was investigating the legend of K'uk'ulkan. At first, he’d planned to kill you as he did with all others that had come to find him ans Talokan. However, your intentions, unlike the others, was honourable. You only visited out of curiosity, and acted respectfully towards the land and the people of the village. Namor began to observe you. He watched you from afar as you continued to search for him, for any signs for him. He never let you catch on though.

•Frustrated by your fruitless efforts, you decided to leave in resignation. Despite hiding himself from you, Namor wasn’t prepared for you to go. He’d spent so much time watching you that he grew obsessed. He was completely enamoured with you, with your mannerisms, your habits, your laugh, your smile, everything about you. You were a pure being. The cruel surface world was undeserving of you. So, the day you were meant to leave, you visited the beach one last time as a sort of nostalgic end visit. That’s when you saw him, emerging out of the water. You stood there, stunned. Here before you was K'uk'ulkan in all his glory. And he was glorious. He must’ve been the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. The silence between you two grew as you eyes raked him over, taking him in. Slowly, he moved towards you, then he uttered your name. That single utterance of your name caused your insides to double over, twisting and turning.

“K'uk'ulkan,” you whispered in awe, eyes widened. Smiling, he corrected you, “Namor. You’ve been searching for me.”

Still in awe, you nodded slowly. “You wish to see it, do you not? My home,” asked Namor, outstretching his hand in an unspoken offer. He was inviting you, a mere human, to see his home. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you cautiously took his hand. He pressed a mask to your face and before you could register what was happening, you were being pulled under the water.

•Namor took you to an underwater cave where you didn’t need a mask. This is where you’d be staying, he told you. You didn’t pay any thought towards his ominous tone, too absorbed with the mesmerizing beauty of the cave. Namor then showed you to a high-tech deep-sea diving suit. Once you were suited up, Namor showed you Talokan. The underwater city was ethereal. You marvelled at the sights and the people, all who received you warmly. Namor’s heart swelled watching you interact with his people as if they were your own, well they would be soon.

•You enjoyed your time at Talokan. All your needs and wants were met. You adored spending time with the people, especially the children. However, eventually, the novelty wore off and you grew homesick. You tried to bring it up with Namor but he would either change the course of the conversation or just blow you off entirely. This dodgy behaviour worked up your irritation until it finally spilled over.

“Namor!” you called out. Namor turned around, his face set in an adoring smile. “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it? Is there anything you need?” He asked sweetly.

“I want to leave, and don’t try changing the subject. I love it here in Talokan, but this isn’t my home. I have a home, a life back on the surface that I need to return too,” you said, pleadingly.

Something in Namor’s eyes changed, and he titled his head in confusion. Then, he laughed. “Darling, tell me, what did you expect to happen once you accepted my hand. Did you believe that Talokan has remained hidden for so long through allowing people free range?”

Your heart rate quickened, and you stuttered, trying to formulate a response. You hadn’t thought of the future consequences, lost in the thought of experiencing the myths you’d studied for so long first hand. Chuckling, Namor closed the distance between you two and cupped your face with his hands. “Worry not, beloved. Talokan shall offer you far more than the surface world ever could.”

There was not a hint of surprise in Doran’s features when his brother was told to arrive with a little child in his arms. She must be another daughter of his. Yet that was not the case. The child apparently tried to steal something from the red viper but was caught. Oberyn has taken much interest in her and wanted to bring her to Dorne. 

Oberyn first showed you to Elia who was accompanying him at the time. She immediately fell in love with your cuteness. The sight of her doting on you encouraged Oberyn further to take you with him. They are eager to present you with their home and shower you with all the lavish things they can offer. Elia also convinced Doran to let you stay with them in the sunspear. 

Ellaria and the sand snakes were curious to see you. Ellaria knew you meant a lot to Oberyn because of how often he spoke of you and was willing to accept you into the family. Within such a short time, she grew fond of you. It made Oberyn ecstatic to hear her ask about you. Meanwhile, the sand snakes had varying reactions to their father and aunt bringing a child home. 

Keep reading

I really liked ur yandere Namor fic, will a part 2 be coming soon? :)

If someone requests it then yeah

Yandere Deku ( or the dilf himself Aizawa) difference between Platonic and Romantic

tw: yandere themes, punishments, dark themes, slight spoilers, mentions of stabbing

Romantic Yandere Deku is more intense than Platonic Yandere Deku. If he’s romantically involved with you, then Deku is very in your face type of yandere. He’s far more clingy and nervous.

I imagine that he would fall for a kinder darling, most likely due to all the bullying he’s endured for being quirkless. Especially if they stood up for him. Romantic Yandere Deku is also less lenient than Platonic Yandere Deku, though both are pretty laid back in yandere terms. This is based of Canon Deku though, so it’d be quite different if he were a villain.

Romantic Yandere Villain!Deku is an actual menace. He’s far more possessive and controlling, having been twisted with the cruelty of the world. He doesn’t have a specific type, it’ll depend on the circumstances he meets you. Know if you met before he turned into a villain, then, again, kind darling. Or maybe you tormented Villain!Deku alongside Bakugou. Villain!Deku is the way he is because of you, all these crimes he’s committed are your fault. You should be held accountable. In a scenario like that then he’d be far more cruel. As for punishments, they would be far harsher, remember Mafia Boss!Sukuna? Yeah.

If you met him after he became a villain then you’d most likely be a hero, one who fights against him and has a distinct personality. There are plenty of self-righteous do-gooders, yet you’d stick out. Maybe you’re a true hero, a little underrated, but you’re not in it for money or glory, you just want to save people. Or, you’re a rogue vigilante, troubled by a dark past, a kindred soul if you will. If Villain!Deku were to fall for a civilian darling, then you’d probably take on another “heroic” role like a nurse of police officer. Regardless, Villain!Deku is fascinated by you, and he wants you all for himself. You can be certain that one Romantic Yandere Villain!Deku gets his hands on you, he won’t let go.

Now Platonic Yandere Villain!Deku? That’s a wild card. He’s certainly softer than Romantic Yandere Villain!Deku. In terms of what type of darling, it’s irrelevant. It doesn’t matter who you were before, you’re either his now. Punishments aren’t physical, Villain!Deku would never. It’s more manipulation tactics, isolation and all that. Anything to drive you into his arms. Villain!Deku will also spoil his platonic darling more.

Now, for the difference between Romantic Yandere Aizawa and Platonic Yandere Aizawa is more subtle. Romantic Yandere Aizawa is still more protective than possessive. However, Romantic Yandere Aizawa is also more harsh. His tolerance towards your disobedience is far less than it would be with a platonic darling. I don’t feel like he’d have a type of darling, though he might be more inclined to fall in love with a childhood friend of his. Aizawa would also be more inclined to kidnap his romantic darling. He’d be far more restrictive and controlling as well.

Platonic Yandere Aizawa is softer and more clingy with his darling. You’re the light of his life, his darling, sweet angel. I mean, he knows that you can do wrong, but he kind of ignores it. You could stab someone in front of him and he’ll literally be getting rid of the evidence while cooing at you. The one thing that will set him off is you being hurt, Aizawa’s lost so much he won’t lose you too.

Yandere Namor Headcanon

an: I’ll work on requests I swear, I’ve just been obsessed with this man

tw: yandere themes, Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Spoilers, stalking, overprotective behaviour, kidnapping, captivity, ooc

•Namor, a child without love as he’d been cursed, did not have it within his heart to love another. His love lay with his people. That was until he happened upon you. An inquisitive human who was investigating the legend of K'uk'ulkan. At first, he’d planned to kill you as he did with all others that had come to find him ans Talokan. However, your intentions, unlike the others, was honourable. You only visited out of curiosity, and acted respectfully towards the land and the people of the village. Namor began to observe you. He watched you from afar as you continued to search for him, for any signs for him. He never let you catch on though.

•Frustrated by your fruitless efforts, you decided to leave in resignation. Despite hiding himself from you, Namor wasn’t prepared for you to go. He’d spent so much time watching you that he grew obsessed. He was completely enamoured with you, with your mannerisms, your habits, your laugh, your smile, everything about you. You were a pure being. The cruel surface world was undeserving of you. So, the day you were meant to leave, you visited the beach one last time as a sort of nostalgic end visit. That’s when you saw him, emerging out of the water. You stood there, stunned. Here before you was K'uk'ulkan in all his glory. And he was glorious. He must’ve been the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. The silence between you two grew as you eyes raked him over, taking him in. Slowly, he moved towards you, then he uttered your name. That single utterance of your name caused your insides to double over, twisting and turning.

“K'uk'ulkan,” you whispered in awe, eyes widened. Smiling, he corrected you, “Namor. You’ve been searching for me.”

Still in awe, you nodded slowly. “You wish to see it, do you not? My home,” asked Namor, outstretching his hand in an unspoken offer. He was inviting you, a mere human, to see his home. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you cautiously took his hand. He pressed a mask to your face and before you could register what was happening, you were being pulled under the water.

•Namor took you to an underwater cave where you didn’t need a mask. This is where you’d be staying, he told you. You didn’t pay any thought towards his ominous tone, too absorbed with the mesmerizing beauty of the cave. Namor then showed you to a high-tech deep-sea diving suit. Once you were suited up, Namor showed you Talokan. The underwater city was ethereal. You marvelled at the sights and the people, all who received you warmly. Namor’s heart swelled watching you interact with his people as if they were your own, well they would be soon.

•You enjoyed your time at Talokan. All your needs and wants were met. You adored spending time with the people, especially the children. However, eventually, the novelty wore off and you grew homesick. You tried to bring it up with Namor but he would either change the course of the conversation or just blow you off entirely. This dodgy behaviour worked up your irritation until it finally spilled over.

“Namor!” you called out. Namor turned around, his face set in an adoring smile. “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it? Is there anything you need?” He asked sweetly.

“I want to leave, and don’t try changing the subject. I love it here in Talokan, but this isn’t my home. I have a home, a life back on the surface that I need to return too,” you said, pleadingly.

Something in Namor’s eyes changed, and he titled his head in confusion. Then, he laughed. “Darling, tell me, what did you expect to happen once you accepted my hand. Did you believe that Talokan has remained hidden for so long through allowing people free range?”

Your heart rate quickened, and you stuttered, trying to formulate a response. You hadn’t thought of the future consequences, lost in the thought of experiencing the myths you’d studied for so long first hand. Chuckling, Namor closed the distance between you two and cupped your face with his hands. “Worry not, beloved. Talokan shall offer you far more than the surface world ever could.”

ur sukuna mafia fanfic changed my life i love you and him

Thank you! Writing him was such a challenge, I adore the way he turned out and people’s response ☺️

YANDERE PLATONIC TENGEN AND HIS WIVES TW: Yandere, Possessive Behaviour, Injuries, Mild Gore(?), Violence

You probably drew Tengen’s attention first and foremost. How? You’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you were going about your day when the massive, flamboyant Sound Hashira crashed into your life.

You were awestruck, I mean how couldn’t you be? You’ve just barely reached the rank of Kanato, and before you stands a Hashira, one of the strongest members the corps!

Tengen doesn’t understand his feelings right away, denying his new-found obsession for you. He only insists on you going with you on every mission, spending every single minute possible with you because of how flamboyant you are.

But his jealousy flares every time you gush about Rengoku’s strength, or Shinobu’s intelligence.

He’s the one who recognized your flamboyant potential. He’s the one who improved your swordsmanship skills. He’s the one who raised you to the rank of Hinoe with just two months of training.

Still unable to recognize his growing obsession with you, he finds the solution to all his problems, you can just become his Tsukago! His and his alone. And of course, you’re elated. Not just because of the promotion, but rather because Tengen thinks you’re worthy enough to become his successor.

And obviously, as his only successor, you should meet his wives. Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru all adore you. You’re just the sweetest thing, aren’t you? All flustered with the attention they’re giving you. So humble too! Adamantly denying your skills. You got to where you are because of Tengen, only because of his training were you ae to accomplish all that you have.

Tengen’s heart swells with pride watching you with his family, you and his family. It is perfect and flamboyant, because you are with him and you are safe until suddenly you aren’t. Until suddenly you’re on your first mission together as his Tsukago, and it’s harder than anything you’ve ever faced.

It’s perfect until one of the many demons that swarm you endlessly manages to land a hit. And suddenly, you’re in his arms bleeding. There’s so much blood, your blood. He gently cradles your body in his arms, trembling with anger at your pitiful form. In a blind fit of rage, Tengen slaughtered the remaining demons.

He angrily demanded the Kakushi to give you the best treatment possible, as your breathing became slower and steadier.

Tengen has Shinobu treat you, and he remains by your side along with his wives until you finally regain consciousness. Immediately, everyone sprang to action, Suma began sobbing tears of joy, Makio shouts alternate between demanding for a doctor and questioning your condition frantically, Hinatsuru attempts to soothe you, reaching to place a placating hand on your shoulder.

All of this overwhelms you, which is noticed by Tengen, who orders his wives out of the hospital room. Tengen manages to calm you down and explains your condition. You’ve been injured, badly. He says Shinobu orders at least two months bed rest. You try to sit up to protest, but the pain sears through you at the sudden moment. Begrudgingly, you agree.

Tengen remains by your side, caring for you, and when he can’t, his wives are more than happy to step up. Soon, the realization dawns on Tengen that he likes you being like this. A little baby who relies on him and his wives, on their papa and mamas. The delusional gears begin to turn, and his protective instincts are driven to a high.

After two months pass, you’re still being babied by Tengen and his wives, despite you feeling fine. And it’s not that you’re ungrateful for their care, but you want to go out on missions again, you want to do your job. But Hinatsuru shuts down all talk of being better by masterfully changing the topic of your conversation. Makio always scolds you, albeit gently, because don’t you recall the severe pain you felt? And Suma is by far the worst, she begins bawling at the thought of you being potentially in danger. So really, you have no other choice but to ask Tengen.

“No.”

“No?” You repeat dumbly, baffled by the audacity he held.

“Yes, no. I forbid you from going on missions.” Tengen declares, leaving you speechless.

He forbids you?! Who does he think he is? Sure, you’re grateful for all his and his wives help, but that doesn’t mean he can just forbid you from going on missions. You’re a member of the corps, just like he is. And while you may not be a Hashira, you are certainly skilled. Besides, what’s the point in all his training just to not go on missions anymore?

“You are my flamboyant Tsukago,” Tengen says, “and as your flamboyant master, you must respect me and my decisions.”

You felt mild anger surge through you at the implication of you not respecting him. All you have felt since you meet the swordsman was respect and admiration. You honed your skills so you could fight alongside him and be a worthy successor.

“I do respect you!” You protest. “But you trained me so I could be your successor, the next Sound Hashira!”

Tengen gives an irritated sigh. Your stubbornness was flamboyant, but rather troubling.

Huffing, you turn to leave, “This is my job, so I’m going to get my next mission, no matter what you say!”

Tengen lets out a soft sigh once more, before swiftly landing a hit to back of your neck. He silently catches you and holds you in his arms. If only you could be a little less difficult. Don’t get him wrong, he loves your flamboyant spirit, but he just can’t let you get hurt again. And you were correct, being a demon slayer was your job, but not anymore. You won’t need a job. You’re a baby, his baby. So he and his wives will take care of you. As he glances down at you, slumped in his arms, a serene look on your face. Yes, he assured himself, this is what you needed.

I’ve decided to open requests again! So if you have any send them in :) In particular HOTD/GOT/ASOIAF and greek gods are two things that I’d love to write for.

@audreycanuseblogs

Addiction- Yandere Mafia Boss Sukuna x Reader

an: I do not condone this behaviour, this is purely fiction. Do not interact if you do not like it, or can’t stomach it.

tw: dark themes, yandere, mafia au, violence, possessive behaviour, toxic relationships, kidnapping, branding, captivity

Sukuna is a selfish man. He’s a self-absorbed, egotistical bastard. The devil himself, a wretch of a man who is ruthless in everything he does. His cruel touch has cursed the lives of many; killings and tortures all done in his name, by his order. Sukuna does as pleases, indulging in his greed. Yet he still yearns for more. He possesses a desire that will never be sated. There had been kindness within him, once. A different time; when the world had not exposed its evil to him. That warmth was extinguished with his mother’s dying breath, and there lay no hope of reviving it. Until he met you.

A puny thing really, compared to the low-levelled goon of his that was currently harassing you. Such a classless act being committed outside one his preferred establishments, it was irritating. He didn’t intend to save you; more so punish the lackey for his annoyance. You were a pathetic, pitiful, cornered creature, not worth any attention. Then, out of nowhere, you kicked him straight in the nuts. Sukuna was simultaneously surprised, impressed, and amused. Before the goon could actually harm you, Sukuna stepped in and knocked him out. You were shaking from shock and terror. However, when you looked up at him, there was no fear eyes, only gratitude. Perhaps that was the reason he played a gentle saviour. A reward, he decided, for the entertainment you provided. Escorting you to your car and watching you drive off in the old rusted thing should have been the end of the whole affair, but it wasn’t. You lingered in the back of Sukuna’s mind for days. You plagued his thoughts, haunting him. His interest evolved into a nagging curiosity, and regardless of how he tried to resist it, the urge to know more about you won out; and down the rabbit hole he fell.

It began with the discovery of your name. It was all Sukuna needed to know, the name of the person he’d saved, the name of the person who tormented his mind. Yet it was not enough. He had to know more. He uncovered every bit of your being, leaving nothing unknown; your address, your number, your favourite foods and activities, your deepest secrets, all known to Sukuna. The more he knew, the more the obsession grew. You were perfection incarnate. Something, someone, truly divine that had graced the world with their presence. He desired to possess that divinity, to possess you. You didn’t deserve him, not at all. Sukuna was a depraved being, unworthy of even being near you. Alas, fate was cruel, and Sukuna even crueler. He had to have you, and would do anything in pursuit of you. You lived in the seediest part of time, he reasoned, in a shabby apartment that you could barely afford. You needed him to keep you safe and protected, you needed to be saved. He had his most trusted men tail you while he prepared the most luxurious room for you; you deserved only the best after all. It took time, yet Sukuna pieced together a flawless plan. Soon you would be with him, where you belonged. And how he couldn’t wait for that day to come.

As time marched on slowly, Sukuna became increasingly impatient; the anticipation of your arrival into his arms was overwhelming. Once the day arrived he became more agitated than usual. He had yearned for this day, for you, and soon he would have you. Sukuna was halfway through a meeting when his phone buzzed. The moment he glanced down and the read the message he’d received, Sukuna swiftly exited the meet room, ignoring the shock of his underlings. You had been safely delivered to his estate, your new home. Sukuna sped home in his car, anticipation building up and threatening to boil over. When he finally arrived Sukuna rushed through the door, up the grand staircase, and navigated through the extensive maze of corridors to your designated room. Taking a baited breath, he carefully opened the door and set his eyes upon you.

There you lie, his darling, his beloved, the only thing that could ever invoke such weakness from him— and you were here, lying right in front of him. You were peacefully dozing off. Sukuna stayed by your side for who knows how long, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest. Then, your eyes twitched, fluttering open. You awoke disgruntled, initial confusion turning into panic at the realization that you weren’t in your apartment. Sukuna watched you for a moment, before deciding to grab your attention.

“So you’ve finally awaken, hm?” He hummed, watching as you slowly turn towards him. Your expression was akin to a frightened doe. Slowly, the gears turned in your head and you gaped in recognition, “You! Did you do this to me?!”

“As in returning you to where you belong? Yes, I did.” He replied neutrally.

“What the hell are you talking about,” you snarled. “Quite,” he ordered, dropping his neutral tone for a more menacing one. “You’re mine, I saved you didn’t I? You should repay the favour.” “Let me go!” You cry, struggling with all your might. “Please,” you beg as you finally break, beginning to sob. “Enough, there’s no need for that. As long as you behave, you’ll be rewarded.”

With that, Sukuna stalked out the room. He knew it would take time for you to adjust, after all anyone would react poorly to such sudden change. All Sukuna could do was wait, and he’d done so before. He wanted to own you not only in body, but in mind and soul as well. He yearned for a normal relationship with you— well, as normal as a relationship with him can be. So, he remained patient, albeit with much difficulty. Sukuna loves you so much and he knows, he knows, he must be understanding of your feelings, yet he cannot impede his desire for you, for your warmth and kindness, for everything and anything but the fear you display. He wants for you to not cower when you see him. He wants for you to tremble nervously. He wants you to not look at him with the terror and hatred that others do. Sukuna wants— no he needs you to love him as he loves you, to devote yourself to him as he’s done for you. And he will do anything to attain that, even it requires him to wait forever.

Then again, perhaps that patient leniency is what lead to this situation in the first place, Sukuna muses to himself. You kneel in front of tears pooling at your eyes, false apologies spilling out of your lips. His indulgence of you had lead to your attempt to leave him, to abandon him just as everyone else had. Perhaps you weren’t an angel then, rather you were a demon; a sultry temptress sent to corrupt him further, to ensnare him in your web of lies and devour him whole. Well, you’d succeeded. He’d gone soft for you, for his precious, sweet thing. But now you’d revealed your true nature. You did not need his protecting, no you needed him to correct you. He would purify you, lead you into the light, into his light. Yes, he was your saviour and this was all done for you, for your betterment. Sukuna feels a twisted pleasure blossoming in his heart, your “corrections” would begin now.

“Please Sukuna, please. I’m sorry, I really am so sorry,” you plead, sniffling and hiccuping slightly, “I won’t do it again, I swear!”

Sukuna looks down at you, smiling unnervingly. Gently, he kneels, reaching down to wipe the tears from your right eye, and coos down at you, “Don’t worry, my love. I won’t hurt you. How could I? I love you more than life itself. I cherish you more than anything in this world.” You nod tentatively, lulled by his low and kind tone and sweet words. “But, you’ve been thoroughly ungrateful. Behaving so poorly, and now this. I don’t blame you, of course. It’s my fault after all. I failed to teach you properly, so now I must rectify this mistake. This will merely be a small lesson my love, done for your sake, not mine.”

With that, Sukuna stood up. He towers above you, like a god, your god. You stopped crying, the tears sticking to your face, making your cheeks ans eyes red, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You look adorable like this, thought Sukuna, still smiling. His smile grew almost sadistic as he gestured towards his men. You furrowed your brows in confusion, most liking wondering what he meant by “lesson.” Your eyes dart around the room, trying to comprehend what was happening. Then, you spot it; a branding iron. You shriek, attempting to run but a few muscular guards hold you down. You thrash around wildly, begging and screaming. A scene truly oscar worthy in Sukuna’s opinion, though it didn’t invoke any pity from the guards. Finally, you turn to him.

“Sukuna don’t! Please, I beg of you! I’ll behave, I promise. I’ve learned my lesson I swear! I only need you, I only love you!” You screech, pleadingly. Sukuna hums, unaffected by your display. He rips off the section of your shirt covering your lower back. He traces some letters onto the bare skin. Reaching out his arm to receive the branding iron, he tuts, “Ah, but darling, how could you have learned a lesson that I am yet too teach? You must not lie, although we shall save that lesson for another time. Today’s lesson is on who you belong too: me.”

Carefully, Sukuna lined the branding iron up perfectly. And then he brought it down on you. You let out a blood-curdling scream, howling and writhing in pain as your skin sizzled delightfully. Sukuna held it place for a good few seconds before removing it. Grinning, he read and reread the “property of Sukuna” that had been burned into your skin. Proof of his ownership over you that was permanently imprinted into your skin. You continued to wriggle and sob from the searing pain. This, Sukuna thought in full confidence, was a lesson that neither of you would forget. Sighing contently, he rang a bell, summoning your personal servants, or babysitters.

“Allow the brand to fully set in. Do not cause additional pain, but do not relieve the current pain they’re feeling either. Disobey and you will be severely punished, understood?” He ordered, darkly. The maids nodded and carefully carried you out the room. Sukuna turned around, glaring sharply, “Well then, out! All of you!”

His men scrambled out of the room, unwilling to fave their boss’s wrath should they disobey. Alone, Sukuna poured himself a whiskey and relished in the pleasure he received from your “lesson.” He needed to own you, to have you. To be the only one who could love you, who could hurt you; it would be him and him alone. It was not love he felt, it was an addiction, to you. An addiction that he must feed, Sukuna mused as he thought about more “lesson” plans. After all, he had promised to teach you about the wrongs of lying.