violetvase

Latest Posts by violetvase

the good wife

Pairing: Yandere!Husband x Reader Description: You don’t remember marrying Malcolm, but he remembers every version of you—and each time you try to leave, he brings you back. To be a good wife, he says, all you need to do is stay. Warning/s: Yandere | Gaslighting | Memory Manipulation | Captivity | Non-consensual Surveillance | Emotional Abuse | Obsessive Behavior | Psychological Horror Note/s: Heya! For those who have purchased Dark Roast so far, I'll be sending a better version once it's available. I can't provide the exact time, but in the future. ^^ Anyway, enjoy reading!

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The morning felt like any other—ordinary and mundane. You had kissed him goodbye like you always did, the scent of his cologne lingering long after the door clicked shut. His touch stayed too, warm and possessive as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing the hollow beneath your eye, pausing there just a moment too long.

“Be good, love,” Malcolm murmured, voice low and smooth, velvet laced with iron. There was a sweetness in it. But also, a quiet command, like the smile that never quite reached his eyes.

“I will. I always am, darling,” you replied, automatic and soft. The words tasted familiar, worn from use, yet strange on your tongue. You loved him. At least… you believed you did. You had to. There was no reason not to. Not really.

He chuckled—a quiet, amused sound that always pulled a smile from you. You were trained to respond to it, like muscle memory. “I know. But still. Behave, alright?”

You nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you tonight.”

And just like that, he was gone. The silence that followed felt deeper than usual. The house swallowed him whole, leaving only you behind.

You wandered through the quiet halls, trying to shake the feeling that had started to gnaw at the back of your mind. You were often like this lately—adrift, grasping at something you couldn’t quite name. He told you it was nothing. That it was normal, considering the accident. That your memory would return in time.

Except… it hadn’t.

You couldn’t remember the day you married him. Or the way you’d met. Or why you sometimes woke up gasping in the dark, drenched in sweat, your throat raw like you’d screamed your voice away. You’d asked him once. He had smiled and kissed your forehead, whispering, “Some memories are best left buried.”

That day, the weight in your chest didn’t go away.

It was there again now, heavy and suffocating, like invisible fingers tightening around your lungs.

You wandered to the bedroom—your bedroom. Or so he said. You barely remembered how to navigate the house without thinking. But your body moved on its own. Habit. Routine. Familiarity programmed into your bones, even when your mind resisted.

The drawer in the corner of the room called to you. You didn’t mean to open it. Not at first. But your hands were already reaching for it before your thoughts caught up. The compulsion was too strong. Something inside you needed to know.

And when the drawer opened, you froze.

Photographs. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. All carefully arranged. All tucked neatly between delicate tissue paper, as if they were precious artifacts. At first, the faces didn’t register. Different hairstyles. Different expressions. Different clothes.

But the same eyes.

Your eyes.

They were all you.

Laughter frozen mid-breath. Smiles that never reached your eyes. Dresses you didn’t remember owning. Bruises you couldn’t place.

Some photos were newer. Others older. You recognized none of them, and yet they were undeniably you. A collage of versions—happy, scared, serene, desperate. But all of them shared one common trait: they were being watched. In each frame, subtly blurred in the background, a shadow lingered.

Him.

Sometimes only his hands were visible, placed possessively around your waist or brushing your hair. Other times, he was fully in frame—close, always too close—smiling with a calm, calculated gaze. The kind of smile that made your skin crawl now that you saw it from the outside.

A ribbon. A perfume bottle. A dried rose, still tied with a bow. A necklace—broken at the clasp. A fingernail. You didn’t know whether it was yours, and that uncertainty was the worst part.

And then, the flash drive. Sleek. Unmarked. Black as night.

Your hands moved like they weren’t your own. You crossed the room, plugged it in, and opened the file. A single video.

The screen flickered. Static.

And when it played, you saw a familiar face.

You.

You were strapped to a chair. No… a bed. Bare shoulders trembling, your mouth gagged, eyes wild with terror. You writhed against the restraints, muffled cries choking in your throat. You didn’t remember this. You didn’t remember this. But it was you.

Then came the voice. Soft. Steady.

His.

“You always try to leave, my love. But you never make it far.”

The camera panned slowly, almost lovingly, to reveal him sitting beside the frame. Calm. Smiling. Watching you.

“I’m not angry,” he continued. “You don’t need to remember. You don’t need to understand. You just need to stay.”

He leaned closer to the lens, his eyes dark and glinting with something sharp beneath the surface.

“I’ve loved every version of you. Every time you run, I find you. And I bring you home.”

Your blood ran cold.

“I know you don’t remember. That’s alright. I’ll remind you. Over and over, if I have to.”

The screen flickered again. Another scene. Another you. This time crying. Another version screaming. Another begging. Another… smiling.

Each version more twisted than the last. You watched as he carefully recreated scenarios—like a director obsessed with a single actress. A thousand variations of the same obsession. A thousand attempts to preserve the perfect you.

You yanked the flash drive from the port, heart hammering. Your stomach churned, bile rising in your throat. You stumbled backward—

Knock knock.

A soft, deliberate sound.

You froze.

Another knock. Louder. Measured.

Your heart leapt into your throat. You turned to close the laptop, to hide everything—but you were too slow. The door creaked open.

And there he stood.

Framed in the hallway light, still in his work clothes, tie loosened, his smile too pleasant to be real.

“Love?” he called gently. “What are you doing?”

You swallowed hard, pulse racing. “I-I was just… cleaning.”

He took a step in. Then another. The door shut behind him with a quiet click.

“You never clean in here.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

He stopped behind you, his presence a wall of heat and silence. You felt his breath on your neck. Then his hand on your shoulder, light as a feather.

“You opened the drawer, didn’t you?”

You said nothing. But the tremble in your body gave you away.

He leaned in, lips grazing your ear.

“You always open the drawer eventually.”

Your blood turned to ice.

“How many times has it been, hmm?” he whispered. “Seven? Eight? I lose count. Each time you forget, and each time you find your way back. And I… I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

You whimpered, the sound dying in your throat. His hand stroked your hair with practiced gentleness.

“It’s okay,” he said sweetly. “We’ll start over. Again. Just like before. I’ll fix everything.”

You tried to move, but he tightened his grip. That same voice, that same gentle cadence, coiled around you like barbed wire.

“You’re mine, love. You’ve always been mine.”

And this time, you weren’t sure you’d ever escape.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger @delusionalricebowl

A Kingdom of Ash and Cold

Yandere north prince x princess reader

Art from pinterest

The inspiration for this story was a character from character.ai but before I finished writing this story I managed to lose the chat and now I can't find who created the character.

You had once been a princess of the South, heir to a kingdom known for its wealth, beauty, and diplomacy. Unlike the North, which thrived on war and conquest, your people valued peace. Your father, the king, had always believed that treaties and alliances were stronger than swords. But he had been wrong.

Felix, the war prince of the North, had proven that with fire and blood.

He attacked without warning. Rumors had spread that your kingdom held untold riches, that its lands were fertile and untouched by war. But more than anything, it was said that the South was weak. And Felix despised weakness.

He marched his armies through your lands like a storm, tearing through defenses with terrifying precision. Your knights fought bravely, but against Felix—who had spent his entire life mastering the art of war—they stood no chance.

Within weeks, your kingdom fell. Your father was slain in battle, your people either killed or enslaved. The grand palace that had once been filled with music and laughter now stood in ruins, a silent graveyard of the past.

And you—once a beloved princess—were now nothing more than a prisoner in the heart of the enemy’s castle.

Three days had passed since your capture.

The cold stone walls of your cell were suffocating. You had been stripped of your royal gowns, left in a simple dress meant for prisoners. The only light came from a small barred window, just enough to remind you that the world outside still existed.

Then, the heavy doors creaked open.

A man stepped inside, his very presence commanding the space. Even without his armor, he looked every bit the war prince the world feared. His golden hair gleamed in the dim torchlight, his sharp blue eyes holding an unsettling intensity.

Felix.

Your body tensed as he walked closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he enjoyed watching you squirm.

Then, he smirked. "You look cute in this cell, princess."

You didn’t respond.

Felix tilted his head, amused by your silence. "I expected you to beg for mercy by now. Most do."

You clenched your fists. You would never give him that satisfaction.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "I like that fire in your eyes. It makes this more fun."

Then, his smirk faded, replaced by something darker. "I’ve decided." He stepped even closer, so close you could feel his warmth. "You will be my wife. The Queen of the North."

The words struck you like a blade.

Marriage?

You had expected execution, imprisonment—anything but this.

Felix watched your reaction closely, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "I won’t force you to love me," he said, almost mockingly. "But you will be mine. One way or another."

And just like that, he turned and left, locking the door behind him.

That was when the whisper came.

"Pst... Princess."

Your head snapped up.

A guard stood near your cell. Not a Northern soldier—but a knight of the South. One of the few survivors.

"Tonight, you will run."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"Run, before it’s too late."

It's midnight the time of escape. The plan was simple: slip through the castle's hidden passageways and escape into the night. You knew Felix wouldn’t let you go easily, but if there was even a chance of freedom, you had to take it.

Night fell, and the soldier returned. With a silent nod, he unlocked your cell, gesturing for you to follow.

Every step was agonizingly slow. The castle was a maze of stone and shadows, but the soldier knew the way.

You were close. The exit was just ahead. Freedom—

"Where do you think you’re going?"

Your body froze.

Felix stood at the top of the staircase, his piercing blue eyes filled with cold fury.

The soldier drew his sword, stepping protectively in front of you. "Run, Princess!"

But you couldn’t move.

Felix moved first.

With terrifying speed, he descended the stairs, his blade flashing in the moonlight. The soldier swung, but Felix was faster.

The sound of steel meeting flesh filled the air. The soldier staggered back, blood spilling from his wound.

"No—" you gasped.

The knight collapsed. His body hit the floor, lifeless.

Felix stood over him, his sword dripping red. He turned to you, breathing heavily, his expression unreadable.

"You tried to leave me." His voice was eerily calm.

You took a step back, but it was useless. He was on you in an instant, his fingers gripping your wrist like a vice.

"I was being patient," he murmured. "I wanted you to want me. But now..." His grip tightened. "Now, you’ve forced my hand."

His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. His touch was almost gentle—almost.

"You are mine, Princess. And I do not let go of what is mine."

Two days after death of solider the North Kingdom gathered in celebration.

Felix had won the war. And now, he had claimed his prize.

You stood at the grand altar, dressed in the most exquisite Northern wedding gown. Gold and silver embroidery adorned the fabric, delicate jewels woven into every thread. But none of it felt real.

Felix stood beside you, his regal presence impossible to ignore. His golden hair framed his sharp, aristocratic features, and his blue eyes never left you—not even for a second.

You were his obsession.

Among the crowd were the last survivors of the South. They watched in silence, their faces etched with sorrow. They had lost everything, and now, they were forced to witness their princess being bound to the man who had destroyed them.

The priest spoke, but you barely heard his words.

Your mind drifted back to the soldier. The man who had died for you. The man who had given you a chance at freedom.

And then, the final words cut through your thoughts.

"The groom may kiss the bride."

Your breath caught in your throat.

Felix turned to you, his expression filled with an unsettling mix of triumph and desire.

He cupped your face, his fingers possessive against your skin. And then, he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was desperate. Hungry. Filled with a madness that made your blood run cold.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heart pounding.

Felix pulled away, his smirk returning. His eyes locked onto yours, victorious.

"Now, my love," he whispered, "you will never escape me again."

And in that moment, as the weight of your new reality settled over you, you knew—

He was right.

You were his.

Forever.

i bringeth Notes for the swap AU

i tried to keep some core bits about them in mind while coming up with these!  feel free to take or leave any of this in art or conjecture, i just wanted to share what i’d written down because that art injected both serotonin and brainworms straight into my mind

Gary (swapped with John) — A priest who’s so popular some like to claim he runs a cult.  He’s still manipulative, but in a charismatic bastard way (and has good intentions at heart), and is much more a philosopher and debater than canon!John.  He doesn’t scare nearly as easily when exorcising demons (he’s quite numb due to trauma of his own “exorcism” at young age at his mom’s daycare) — definitely houses some Hot Takes that the Vatican does not approve of and is not afraid to speak out about injustices in the Vatican . Amy (swapped with Lisa) — Gary’s secret confidant and observer, often gathers information from rumor mills and parses out what’s true and what’s false.  Still works at the abortion clinic, to her parents’ extreme distaste, and she rooms with Gary because her family will not take her back until she quits her job and repents.  (Both Gary and Amy think this is bullshit, and Amy has no plans to go back home ever again.)  Surprisingly level-headed and quick-witted for an eighteen year old from a sheltered Catholic home. John (swapped with Gary) — A man terrified of and disgusted by the world’s evil and wants to purge it through his cult, though he is weak-willed and at the whims of the demon Buer, who uses demonic energy to “purify” his followers and blind one of their eyes (though it can see supernatural things and acts as a portal to Hell).  He hides away in an abandoned asylum and forest to perform his rituals, and the cult sports a lot of deer iconography. Lisa (swapped with Amy) — John’s childhood friend and most loyal compatriot.  She is completely willing to let her body be a mouthpiece for Buer and a tool for his machinations—the visions she constantly beholds have taken a deep toll on her sanity, and her words no longer make sense unless you are deeply entrenched in the cult itself or have taken measures to “open your mind” to it (a la canon!Gary’s injection). Miriam (swapped with Garcia) — Gary’s mother, retains her maiden name whereas Gary takes her late husband’s surname.  A devout Catholic running a daycare who is determined to make her son into the perfect child of God.  She is disappointed by some of his decisions, but will fight at his side nonetheless.  She’s probably where Gary gets his “smiting” tendencies from.  Often wears a mask to cover up some lasting scars that came from her own past battling demons.  Whereas some would use guns, she much prefers swords, even in her old age. Garcia (swapped with Miriam) — Known in the cult of Buer as “the grandfather”; a sage-like figure to John and Lisa, able to interpret the words of demons best and urges John to continue on with his goals.  He is a lapsed Catholic, John having manipulated him into the cult at a time when his faith was weakest.  He tends to the demons that grow from John’s “gardens” like they are his own children, and will grow increasingly violent the more damage is done to them or the property.

________________

WOAGH GOOD LORD THESE ARE SO PERFECT?? THANK YOU I LOVE THESE. SO MUCH rotates this in my mind forever

NSFW

warning: slight corruption kink, yandere behavior, panty stealing, breeding kink, dubcon if you squint

EHEHEH thinking about yandere!angel who has never been hard before.

He sees you, such a pretty little human he’s meant to watch over. You’re so soft and plump, your body stirs something in his belly that he doesn’t completely understand.

And he sees you undressing one night, your form completely bare before his very eyes.

Angels always walk around in the nude, they aren’t ashamed of their bodies… so why does his cock start to twitch and harden?

He doesn’t understand, this has never happened before and the feeling is unbearable. Something in his body wants to be closer to you, to… connect with you.

The angel approaches your room, quiet as he opens your window and slides in with ease. He’s not sure what he should do, but he spots your discarded clothing.

It’s shameful, how he even thinks about stealing an item of your clothing. Your panties are your favorite color, lacy with a little bow on the front. He can spot a slight wetness there, and he starts to drool.

Why is his body reacting like this? His cheeks flush a crimson red as he flees your home, your underwear in his hand. He flies far away, as if trying to escape his new, lustful feelings.

He isolates himself in a small cave, slowly draping your panties over his throbbing cock. The feeling of your slick coated panties touching his tip made him hiss out in pleasure.

Of course, the angel had never masturbated before. He came within just a few strokes, but his cock was still so swollen. Every time he thought about your plush frame, his tip dribbled precum, and he couldn’t help but jerk off again.

It just wasn’t enough… soon he felt so sore, and his hands weren’t soft like yours, and he bet your lips or pussy would feel so much better…

He was your protector, wasn’t he? It made sense that he’d get to fuck his precious little cherub, his sweet girl, right?

Wouldn’t it be a blessing to put a baby in your belly?

Usually the angel had no trouble flying, but now he was trying his best to concentrate on getting to your home.

You spot him in the window, your eyes still bleary from sleep. He’s the picture of elegance, with long, flowing blonde hair and gorgeous dark eyes…

“Be not afraid, I am a messenger of god…” he panted, cheeks flushed pink. “You… have been chosen for something… great…”

He walked in, your curtain billowing around him as he stretched out and lightly clapped his snow-white wings.

His eyes were on your skimpy nightgown, and the way it barely covered your plush thighs.

“You’ve been chosen… to carry my child…”

Your plump thighs squished together, causing him to let out an involuntary moan. “Ch-child? How would you… do that? Touch my belly or something, like the Virgin Mary?”

His eyes were clouded with lust as he approached your bed, his hand trembling with need. “No, my sweet girl… I am no God, I’ll have to take a much more… direct approach.”

In an instant he was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours with an urgency only to be expected of a virgin. He was inexperienced, but tasted like honey and was as gentle as he possibly could be.

Already his erection was pressing against your thigh, and he unceremoniously thrusted his hips, trying to get more friction.

You were so damn soft, warm to the touch. It was taking everything in him not to ravish you instantly.

His fingers danced across your clothed cunt, testing the waters. When he pulled his hand back, it was wet and with a soft lick, his eyes went wide.

You tasted amazing.

Though he wanted to devour your fat cunt, he needed yo be inside of you even more. He was in pain, his cock aching and begging your your warmth to envelope him.

You watched his wings twitch as he positioned himself between your legs. The white feathers were soft to the touch, and you held onto them while he pushed in.

The angel couldn’t help himself, the second he felt your warm pussy he went crazy. His head was buried in your neck, his hips slapping against yours as he struggled to control his body.

He had never felt so good before, the angel was committing a terrible sin but he didn’t care, not one bit.

“S-so good, you’ll have your reward in heaven…” he blubbered out, cheeks red and covered in pleasured tears. “God…”

He came so quick, painting your walls white as hips nails dug into your hips.

All he wanted to do now was wrap his wings around you, holding you close. The angel didn’t pull out, you felt way too warm and comfy for that.

As he kissed your head and snuggled with you in bed, he was sure that that this was fate. Perhaps he was meant to lust after you…

You were something special, and no one would take you away from him.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

Hiii!! I just found your blog & I am in love with your writings! Especially the yan!Dottore x doctor reader fic.

If requests are open, I wanted to ask if you could write a short fic about a reader attempting to escape from yan!Dottore?

LABYRINTH / YANDERE DOTTORE

contents: gn! reader, corpses mentioned, syringes, one face slap, forced brain surgery. word count: 0,8k.

Note: Thank you for your kind words, and I hope this one will be enjoyed by you too! 🖤

Despite your belief that Dottore has been making sure to keep his lab spotless and contamination-free, somehow, the mortuary cot you were lying on was drenched in a smell of death — you couldn’t tell if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

Keeping your body still under the cloth, to deceive a segment pushing the cot by not giving them any moving amorphous outlines was proving extremely difficult when you were scared — this was your method of escape from Dottore’s clutches, by pretending you’re a corpse, hoping to be taken to whatever part of the lab where you would find an easier exit from. Breathing was obstructed too.

Despite the distress, the further the clone strolled, the more your excitement grew. Just a few more steps, and you’ll be inside some room where they drop bodies—

The metal door was shoved open by the back of the cot hitting on it to spread two wings open, and your heart lurched to your throat from the surprise — you barely managed to stay still. Regardless, as soon as the wheels bumped and jumped on the tiles, you felt hope. Once the segment unpeels the bedsheet off of you, you’ll just need to jam your fist at the specific point and he should be knocked out. Your hand prepared, and you felt determination fill you, until…

… you heard that voice, “Did you bring them specifically?” your stomach dropped, as by the individual tone and depth original Dottore used, you recognized him. Your luck couldn’t be any worse. Out of all people doing autopsies today, it had to be the one you’re trying to leave?

“Yes, sir! They’ve been rather good at the game so far,” some segment giggled.

…

A game?

Surely a dead person can’t play a game — the implication of the segment’s words made your hair stand on your body, prickling the bedsheets from the underneath. Did they know?

Your mind quickly contemplated on making the escape before they’d remove the bedsheets, using the element of the surprise; yet it was too late as you were suddenly exposed, Dottore’s red eyes staring at you from above with both anger and amusement.

“Naughty, naughty test subject… yet also so creative, hm?”

You gasped in breath after being allowed to breathe again, albeit, you felt breathless anyway. You were busted. Both him and the segment knew you were trying out this trick from the beginning, and instead of retrieving you immediately, they dragged you here instead, for whatever reason — amusement, false hope to crush it right after, or perhaps something much worse.

Words got stuck in your throat, you frozen like a prey; which made him laugh. “You are speechless all of the sudden? Not so brave anymore?” his hand stroked your cheek, and you flinched at its coldness.

“You can leave us, now. Thank you for bringing them here,” he instructed the segment, that obeyed and left. As he did, you tried to sit up, only to be pushed down by The Doctor.

“Ah, ah, ah. Stay down. We have long hours ahead of us,” he smiled, almost grinning in delight.

“H-hours? What are you trying to do?”

“Well, shouldn’t that be obvious?” he bent down, his face close to yours, and tugged on your hair with an ugly scowl — making you cry out, simultaneously in pain and terrified if he could anything. “My favorite test subject, one I’ve been spoiling more than I should have been, being so disloyal and trying to leave. Worse than a bribed agent.”

“You were abusing me—” you attempted to protest with anger, only to be silenced with a one, nasty face slap. You gritted your teeth from the burn.

“Silence. I’m doing what I’m doing to you in name of science, and it’s not like you had much before this. Homeless, biting dirt— little pain is nothing compared to having warm food, comfortable bed, a companion like me; instead of freezing to death on the stress,” he hissed out.

He clicked his tongue when you started crying, as if embarrassed by you. “Cry all you want. Punishment is due… or should I say, adjustment.”

The word “adjustment” sounded much worse than “punishment”, if you knew the extent of his experiments.

“No, Doctor, I’m sorry! I’ll do anything, I’ll make this up to you!” you begged through sobs. Dottore sighed, almost pitying you, and wiped the tear with his thumb. “Im afraid it’s inevitable. Don’t worry, if you cooperate, I’ll give you some… pain management. We’ll work on some parts of your brain, revamping it to make you more obedient.”

You trashed as he pulled up the leather straps that were hanging under the cot, trapping you in them.

You convulsed when you noticed him pick up the syringe, he containing his more of monologue than dialogue. “Of course, I have to be careful enough to maintain your personality… Yes, I don’t want you gone, just… more nice.”

As he injected you, he cooed at you, “Do not fret, you’ll enjoy a rebranded version of yourself too.”

Hii! Can I please request some yan Dottore with a newly kidnapped reader?🩷

“PRIMUM NON NOCERE” / DOTTORE.

Summary: You’ve been rejecting Dottore’s offer to work for him, not at all flattered by his proposal. That’s why he decides to bring you to him instead.

contents: gender neutral reader / yandere / kidnapping / gore / drugging / reader is forced to participate in human experimenting / panicked suicide attempt / generally anything bad that could come with Dottore’s character. word count: 3.1k

note: I hope you don’t mind I revamped the idea a little :) I thought this would make an interesting plot, and it’s still about how you are being treated after being kidnapped.

In your career as a quirky doctor with more unconventional methods that have landed you an infamous reputation, you had quickly learned how to abandon any visceral attachment to your patients and focus on the gruesome reality of what sometimes needed to be done is specific circumstances — “hurting” your patients in name of their survival was more important than weeping for their woes of pain, and when they have to go, you let them.

This could never imply you had derived yourself of any care, nor that your patients were just a bags of flesh for you to work on, something The Doctor sending his agents after you could be conjecturing, if their deliveries were in the form of invitations from him to join him in his projects — going against any ethics you had as a healer, and the oath you’d sworn to uphold to when beginning your practice.

When you first published your own article about the usage of Sumeru’s creature fungus’s skin as skin grafts for the burn victims, you soon became a laughingstock among colleagues from your field claiming a human body would naturally reject the human skin substitute — no matter that you’ve had provided them with enough evidence proving the match being possible. No one has believed in you or in your theory, no one expect him; out of all the people that could have been your ally was the most unsolicited by you man. Ever since he’d reached out to you for the first time, he’s been sending you different letters encouraging you to join him under the excuse of promising you to be accompanied in your journey of expanding on your thesis — or various others you had.

You could admit and admire his skills and accomplishments, especially in terms of Eleazar, which still didn’t make him someone you’d want an as an ally.

The idea of having a familiar soulmate for your oddities would have been enticing if it wasn’t the worst “doctor” you could ever shake hands with. You had heard numerous rumors about Fatui’s endeavors and plays with human life, supposedly all in name of science, and coming to the conclusion of what you’d have to do by his side to expand on your research has given you more than enough reason to keep sending persistent rejections and refusals to Dottore. To which, Dottore has never acknowledged or accepted his defeat.

Letters becoming visits from his agents, leaving pouches of mora to freeze outside of your door, finally have reached a climax in a form you being taken away from the doorstep ot your house to his lab — bag over your head to conceal any depths of the lab you were taken into, too confidential for a person opposing the harbinger, as they dragged you through the corridors.

Your hearing was sensitized with a jute sack over your ears; only hearing splashes of the muddy snow with every step, your own breathing echoing the closed space, and finally, the male, low voice as you were shoved into the room. “What did I tell you about contaminating the floor?” the voice harshly scolded, and you sensed a flinch in one of the agent’s hand on your arm. “Remove their shoes at once. Get rid off that unprofessionally tied rope too.”

You couldn’t protest as they took off your boots, leaving your cold feet get even colder from the tiles you stood on in socks; followed by a quick snap of the binds.

A click of heeled steps moved towards you and finally freed you of the burden of the bag, your eyes confronting the figure you didn’t want so ever see again.

Dottore grabbed your bruised cheeks, swollen by punches you’ve received from the hands of agents frustrated with your lack of cooperation, and he turned your face twice to the left, once to the right with a click of his tongue. “Tsk, what did I tell you two about bringing them here in one piece? I need them healthy, not with a concussion.” You doubted his disappointment was out of care for you; rather, his goods becoming damaged and less useful — whatever intentions he might have with you.

“Leave us two alone, I’ll deal with you two later,” his voice lowered, manifesting a threat for two agents who quickly scurried away.

Only when your eyes have finally adjusted to the light was when you could look at Dottore and fully rain your bearings. Red eyes boring into your soul, the mask covering most of his deadly pale skin, a small smirk of triumph over catching the elusive doctor. A room you were in, you assumed to be a sort of lab — clean and sterile, with grey tiles on walls and the floor, accompanied with glass shelves filled with different bottles, metal desk and chairs. The room wasn’t dark, giving enough light to work; however, everything was cold toned as sterile would suggest, that even if environment familiar to you, now it exuded scary atmosphere. Regardless, no blood patterns or anything else rotting was rolling around, as one would have expected from a stereotypical mad scientist — Dottore had more than enough brain juice to follow work safety guidelines and not contaminate his own works, a truth ought to have been obvious for anyone not living in fantasy.

Your mouth opened to spill profanities at the scientist, but his finger ended up on your lips, shushing the emotionality you wanted to start.

“You and I are going to have a talk. It’s rather unbecoming of a grown adult to want to yell,” his voice was a tease, clearly capable of being provocative into the mentioned by him state.

“Don’t you dare to joke when-“ your sequence of anger was cut off when he shoved you down into a chair — leather seat with a metal construction, where a patient would be situated when having their blood drawn. Another leather part was in straps built to bind a naughty patient… he didn’t trap you in these, but the risk was still carried, should you become too defiant.

You were right to be worried when he picked up a syringe, filled with unfamiliar to you contents, and approached you. The hands were about to shake the vial off of his hands, but the neck of yours was jabbed with a needle — you quickly realizing it was a muscle relaxant as you turned limp. He could have just tied you down, yet the chemical would make the process of interrogation even smoother — or maybe he just wanted an excuse to treat you like a lab rat.

“Now,” he announced, his voice booming against the tiles of an empty room — so quiet it was unsettling. “I’m sure you are intelligent enough to already be on track of thoughts to why you’re here,” he mused, a tone entertained by your grumpy expression; still, not lacking some anger he wanted to keep quiet. Oh, how outrageous it was for you to reject such a promising position by his side — someone thinking outside of box was a person he desires in his team, a hotshot for him to have. You’d be perfect if it wasn’t for that stupid human empathy holding you back — not even morals.

“You’re going to torture me to get back at me for rejecting your offer, I assume,” you said, your tongue too loose to make a proper and loud speech.

“Torture?” he asked in surprise, before breaking into a laugh. “My, I’d have no use in torturing you. I am not… so petty to torture you over a small failure — one easily fixable too,” you couldn’t tell if it was your drugged mind, but his words carried a worrying innuendo. Your heart raced in distress despite your relaxed body.

“No, after all that chase, it’d be a waste to reduce you to a mushy mess…” he murmured and grabbed a disinfectant, soaking a gauze pad in it.

You winced when the alcoholic solution infected your scratches and cuts on face. Your eyes blinked shut rapidly when he shun a light onto them. Your jaw was open too fast when he did so to gauge the damage on your tooth — thankfully none was much damaged as chipped, when the glove palpated on it and dried your mouth.

Only after a quick checkup you could speak, “Then what else do you want from me, Doctor?”

He sighed, as if in disappointment. “Shouldn’t it be obvious for someone as smart as you. The seat waiting for you has never been filled. You will work for me as intended.”

You tried to trash in your chair, to no avail when you were a victim of the sedative. “I will not be working for you! I refuse to hurt these people and ruin their lives like you do!” you almost yelled, not sparing him of your anger and fear. Becoming one to experiment on people was against everything you’ve made yourself to be. While your methods were less conventional, as long as you were making them efficient and people consented them, you were a long way away from becoming second Dottore.

His face became cold, and in a blink of an eye, he had you pinned to the back of your chair; his form looming over yours. “I’ve put a lot of my hopes in you, only for you to be another person to mischaracterize and misjudge me. I am not hurting anyone, nor am I a sadist. Every project of mine is in name of science, in name of greater things a cerebellum of yours wouldn’t understand, and if I have to dissect people to achieve that, it’s only a duty,” he scolded with indignation, as if the only person wrong here was you.

“Who I experiment on are the dregs of society anyway.”

The repugnance overshadowed your fear, the thought of someone this little respect towards life too inhumane to comprehend. “These are innocent people, children, not scum of the earth like you call it! Each one of them deserves to live!”

“Oh, but they live,” his face leaned closer to yours, the bloody eyes scaring you. “As long as they had expressed enough tenacity, they live in bodies stronger than ever. Those who don’t make it out alive had their lives full of misery prior regardless.”

You liked to think of yourself as logical, knowing some things cannot be helped no matter how tragic some of the fates were; yet not even once have you thought of segregating human lives this way.

“I will not work for a man like you! Even if it kills me, even if you hurt me to make me work! I’ll rather die!” you promised, already thinking the situation through. If Dottore makes you a slave of a lab assistant, death is more merciful. There’s not really much of living left for you if you’d be only made to cause cruelties in his image. The predicament he’s put you in called for such measures.

Sadly, the words didn’t have much impact on the man — imperturbable when his genius mind already had come up with retaliations towards your possible mishaps. “You could even attempt suicide, my dear doctor. I’ll keep you with us anyway.”

The words shattered you in a way, terrified there’s no escape from becoming another sacrifice in name of science he likes to speak so much about.

“You’re too shaken up by the sudden abduction too. We’ll talk once you are rested and warm.”

When an odd creature in a form of a clone, “a segment” Dottore called him, entered the room to remove you, the cruel man didn’t acknowledge your screams as he returned to work with his back turned against you.

⚕️

You were violently woken up in the morning, dressed up in white clothes and fed by a woman. You couldn’t even make up to be if she was a nurse or a test subject Dottore forced to work too, as her demeanor seemed rather… lifeless.

“Ah, there you are,” Dottore smiled when he saw you enter his room, too happy sounding to herald anything good. “All dressed up and ready for work, it seems.”

Your eyes bulged out from his words, remembering being promised a conversation, not forced labor you’ve been dreading all night in a cramped room. “You said we are going to continue our conversation,” you pointed out with trepidation, and looked with worry at the unconscious patient strapped to the table. Were you allowed to find a comfort in the fact the man was not awake?

“Yes, but we can do that as we work. I’m sure a renowned doctor like you can multitask,” he joked dryly. Not only was he a person taking lives in name of science; he also was a liar, you find out now.

And you couldn’t do this. You can’t just break any rules of the oath, hurt innocent and cause unnecessary harm, and you weren’t even that empathetic predominantly— just sane enough to know it’s bad. Your methods were unconventional, and yet still humane.

You barely registered someone putting gloves on your hands.

You had two choices, and both were about choosing lesser evil. Live and cause involuntarily to you harm, or die and lose your life but spare yourself from this torment. You doubted Dottore would find a replacement for you easily anyway. So you were grabbing the nearest scalpel from the tray, ready to stab it and drag it in the most optimal spot, in chase of the swiftest of deaths— only for the deadly grip to hold your hand and twist your arm behind painfully.

“I’ve anticipated that, by the way,” he scoffed and maneuvered your shaking body to be standing in front of the test subject, Dottore holding you behind.

You trashed and teetered on your feet, but his power was exercised over you, locked in his arms around you. His hand held onto yours still holding a scalpel; now pointed at the patient’s chest.

“Let’s begin. We have to work on that theory of yours, after all.”

“Stop!” you pleaded, not wanting to be forced to cut an innocent person. “I can’t do this. It’s not fair. It’s inhumane. Do this yourself-” At this point, you weren’t even begging to let this man go — only for Dottore to free you of this burden by doing it himself, no matter how selfish it might have sounded. It’d happen anyway, so you chose to be a coward.

“Now, now. You’re too hellbent on painting this as terrible in those black and white terms of yours; too simpleminded.” He moved your hand to pin the skin of the stomach with the sharp tip of the scalpel, and you wanted to vomit — not from the gore you’d witness as you create gore everyday, but the forced onto you crime. “One life might be lost, yet many more will be saved. That should be a logic understandable enough.”

You gasped and cried out when he caused you to cause an incision, blood floating across the cut parting the skin. “Stop!” you screamed, pushing back at him — fruitless. “I don’t want to do this!”

“Hush,” he scolded into your ear, unperturbed by your whines, the cold breath chilling you. “You’ll wake him up,” he joked with sarcasm, as if the proposed was possible.

As Dottore guided your movement to cut through more lines of flesh and blood to make a shape of a square, revealing the man’s stomach now unpeeled off of the skin, you were sobbing. With other hand, he tilted your head back. “Careful. We can’t let your tears drop down into his body…”

“Okay, put the scalpel away, and turn your head around to look at me.” You obeyed immediately, immensely more in favor of looking at the monster than continue the massacre. Your hands remained bloodstained, however.

“You and I are not so far away from being alike.” Your heart stopped at his words, the worst comparison of the century hitting you like a brick.

“W-what?” you could barely choke out in your state of terror.

“We don’t like to stick to the conventional wisdom and approach; no matter if it’d lead others to believe we’re pariahs or even heretics. It’s not about becoming yet another knowledgeable scholar… only the innovators who know how to push forwards the future with what’s effective, not necessarily ethical or perfect.”

Your scrambled eggs of brain could barely follow his words, but the massage of him finding himself in you was clear. You shook your head in dizzying pain, not wanting to hear that.

“Don’t you want to be free, to find a solace in your own weirdness, and to strive towards the wellbeing of humanity?”

“I do, but not like this. I don’t want to hurt people,” you said, your voice taut as a bowstring from the dread.

Dottore heaved a sigh. “I’ve expected as much. But don’t worry, I’ll treat you out of this ailment you call morality that’s a disservice for both of us,” when his voice was so intense, you could only theorize how badly he’ll hurt you to make you tick the way he pleases. “You’ll work with me, you’ll understand me, and…”

“… meanwhile, I’ll get to know you better; more than those reports could ever have caused me to.” He, or rather his people, have been stalking you too. “I’m not fond of becoming close with people for personal reasons; however, I might make an exception for someone familiar to me. I’m sure you as well have heard enough of vitriolic prejudice…”

An unsure hand stroked your cheek, yet disappeared from it as quickly, before you were forced to look at the wounded man again, next instructed with a stern voice.

“For now, get back to work. Before that man actually kicks the bucket.”

You felt your sanity fray at the edges.

ESCAPE -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

did you really believe it would be that easy to slip away?

cw: gender neutral, yandere, manipulation, wars, violence, possessive behavior, delusional behavior, reader tries to jump in the dreamscape, suggestive, anaxa uses a ball gag :,) 3.1 spoilers in mydei's

sunday `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

something wasn’t right. the extreme sense of deja vu was sickening and it felt as if eyes were on you at all times. the dreamscape was supposed to be a place of comfort and warmth, but all you felt now was anxiety.

of course, your dreams weren’t always like this. the planet of festivities was a guilty pleasure, admittedly. the vast opportunities of the dreamscape was hard to past on.

but now, you needed to wake up.

it didn’t help that there was no one else in your dream, no one but the head of the oak family.

“i think you look most beautiful like this, no? for my eyes only.”

you could hear his voice, but you couldn’t see him.

no matter what corner you turned, no matter what stairs you went up, it was all the same.

why couldn’t you wake up?

“see how you’re living in repeat? how everything is dreading on, nothing new in your dull life?”

you stopped your running, a pounding headache coming on. “g-get out of my head!” it was so frustrating, hearing the same thing over and over.

“i’m not in your head my dear.” there was a sharp intake of silence before you felt a breath on your ear.

“i’m here with you.”

turning around, there was no one there. faintly, you could hear the gentle sound of his laughter, on increasing your headache.

tired of the constant annoyance that was sunday, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

finding the nearest building, one that was high enough, you were quick to ascend its stairs. eventually, you found yourself on the edge of a roof.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

there was a hint of worry in his voice concealed by anger, one you would’ve missed if you hadn’t known sunday for the time you have.

“if you’re not going to let me out, i have to do it on my own.”

his former amusement was no longer present. "you think that's the way out?"

you didn't answer. the wind howled around you, tugging at your clothes, tempting you forward.

"you're being dramatic."

"and you're being insufferable," you snapped, gripping your arms. the weight of his unseen presence bore down on you, making it hard to breathe. "let me wake up."

a pause. then, softly, "i can't."

your stomach dropped faster than you were about to. "what do you mean you can't?"

"i mean exactly that." his voice was closer now, nearly right beside you. "this isn't just a dream anymore."

"i mean exactly that." his voice was closer now, nearly right beside you. "this isn't just a dream anymore."

the world tilted. no, that wasn't right—the dreamscape itself twisted, colors bleeding into each other, buildings warping, the sky cracking like shattered glass.

"what did you do?" you whispered, taking a shaky step back.

a hand, unseen yet unmistakably there, pressed against the small of your back, keeping you from retreating further. sunday's voice curled into your ear, almost tender.

"i simply made sure you'd stay."

your breath hitched. the weight of his words settled over you like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating. "stay?" the word barely left your lips, a fragile whisper against the growing distortion of the dreamscape.

"mm," sunday hummed, the warmth of his unseen touch lingering, a stark contrast to the cold panic flooding your veins. "isn’t that what you wanted? a place where you could escape, where no one could reach you?"

you shook your head, gripping your temples as the headache intensified. "not like this. never like this."

without hesitating any further, you took a step off the roof.

the wind howled in your ears, your stomach lurching as the world blurred around you. the descent was faster than you expected, the colors of the dreamscape smearing together, twisting, unraveling. but the impact never came.

instead, you stopped.

suspended. weightless. trapped.

a pair of arms, unseen yet unmistakably present, wrapped around you from behind, halting your fall as effortlessly as if you had never moved at all. a familiar chuckle ghosted against your ear, low and amused.

"you really thought i'd let you go that easily?" sunday’s voice was steady, but there was something else underneath—something strained.

you thrashed against the hold, but it was useless. the dreamscape rippled around you like a living thing, reshaping itself at his will. the city, the rooftops, the endless stairs—gone. in their place, an expanse of nothingness stretched in all directions, endless and suffocating.

"let me go," you gritted out.

"where would you even go?" sunday murmured, tightening his hold. "there's nowhere else to run, my dear."

the weight of his words settled deep into your bones. this wasn’t just control—this was possession.

"wake me up!" you screamed, twisting in his grasp, trying to break free.

sunday sighed, and for the first time, you swore you could hear something like regret in his voice.

"i told you already," he murmured. "this isn’t a dream anymore. this is your reality.”

anaxa `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

“i must say, we get a long much better when you don’t interrupt me.”

anaxa was an asshole.

that was the only thing you could think as you couldn’t get any words out due to the ball gag currently strapped to your face.

“wouldn’t you agree, [name]?”

his voice was smooth, laced with that ever-present condescension, as if he were merely discussing philosophy over tea rather than reveling in your current predicament. his golden eyes gleamed with amusement, watching you struggle with something between fascination and boredom.

"ah, but i suppose you can't," he continued, tilting his head ever so slightly. "a shame, really. i do enjoy our little debates. but lately, you've been so very insistent on talking back, especially on matters you know nothing about.”

he leaned in, fingers ghosting over your cheek, his touch featherlight but deliberate. "and we simply can't have that, now can we?"

his smile was sharp, predatory. "good conversation requires patience, listening, knowing when to hold one's tongue." he chuckled, tapping a finger against the gag. "though in your case, i had to take matters into my own hands. don't take it personally."

he used one hand to tightly grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. his finger that was still on the gag pushed it deeper down your throat.

he sighed, “astounding that you were trying to leave me. now look at you, pathetic.”

anaxa’s irritation and anger was clear in his voice.

“you’re lucky i’m patient with you, the gag and restraints should make me seem like a saint.”

he gently tapped the hilt of his gun.

this whole situation was taken out of proportion. you simply wanted to go visit okhema, see people outside of the grove. of course, anaxa didn’t like that.

“you really think the world outside our little haven holds something better for you?” he drawled, his tone laced with contempt. “okhema isn’t some paradise you can just wander into. it’s a chaotic place where nothing is as controlled, as perfect, as we have it here.”

he seemed to take mercy on you as he undid the strap of the gag, taking it out of your mouth delicately.

“you may speak now.”

you almost didn’t want to out of pure spite. “you can’t keep me here forever, it’s inhumane.”

he laughed at that, “what scholar do you know that’s even remotely close to being humane?”

“none because you don’t let me speak to any one else!”

“good answer.” he sent you an approving smile.

he went to undo your restraints, knowing that you won’t try to fight him any more than you already have.

his fingers traced over the red indentations left by the restraints, a slow, deliberate motion that felt more like admiration than remorse. "tch," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "see what you've done to yourself? all this struggling, all this nonsense about leaving, and for what?"

his gaze flicked back up to yours, sharp, assessing. "okhema won’t embrace you like i do. it won’t be kind to you. it won’t understand you." his voice dipped lower, softer, as if he were confiding in you rather than reinforcing his dominance. "but you already know that, don’t you?"

he let go of your wrist, allowing your hand to fall limply into your lap. the relief of movement was fleeting; your body ached, stiff from the restraints, throat dry from the gag. but he watched you expectantly, waiting, reveling in the sight of you thinking carefully before you spoke.

good. he'd taught you something, at least.

"i don’t belong to you," you murmured, voice hoarse but steady.

anaxa stilled. then, in a slow, calculated movement, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "no," he murmured, his gloved fingers curling beneath your chin once more, tilting your face upward. "but you don’t belong to them either."

his lips quirked into something almost affectionate, almost. "and that, my dear, is the difference between us. you keep chasing something that doesn’t exist. i, on the other hand"—his grip tightened ever so slightly—"know exactly what’s mine."

mydei `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

it's been too quiet in the fallen kingdom of castrum kremnos.

mydei's decision to fight off the black tide creatures and strife was to come with unrelenting battles and no time for rest. which it has, but the black tide never ceased. it never tired, never strategized. it was relentless in its hunger, mindless in its destruction. so why had it stopped?

his sculpted body lifted from his throne; if it didn't come to him, he'd just have to find it. he focused his attention on his surroundings, listening to anything that could give a clue.

in the distance, there was a faint sound of screaming and footsteps.

someone else was here?

mydei wasted no time to rush to the sounds.

the air was thick with the scent of old blood and decay, yet something new lurked beneath it—an unfamiliar presence, something that did not belong to the black tide.

rounding a shattered archway, mydei caught sight of movement ahead. a figure darted through the crumbling streets, their breath ragged, their cloak tattered from what must have been a long, desperate flight. behind them, the shadows twisted, writhing unnaturally, as if something unseen slithered just beyond his sight.

he was quick to make eye contact with the person, who looked more shocked than him to see another person.

they were too focused on you rather than mydei, which made defeating them rather easy and efficient.

you collapsed as mydei finished off the remaining monsters, tired from the constant running and trying to catch your breath.

"you look like you've never run a day in your life," he remarked, stepping closer.

before you could fire back, he reached out, grasping your wrist and hoisting you up without waiting for permission. your legs wobbled beneath you, exhaustion threatening to pull you down again, but mydei kept you steady.

"who are you? what kind of fool willingly comes here?" he asked, golden eyes studying you with the same sharpness he reserved for threats.

you gritted your teeth, trying to shake off the dizziness that had settled in your head. the last thing you needed was to seem weak in front of this insufferable man, but the endless running had worn you down to the bone. still, you managed to meet his gaze, your voice rough but steady.

"i'm from a distant town in amphoreus. i came to conduct research on my paper... i just didn't think it would be this bad."

mydei scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “research,” he echoed, as if the word itself was a joke. “you risked your life for research?”

his grip loosened, and you stumbled slightly but caught yourself. your body ached, but your pride refused to let you falter.

“i didn’t think i’d be running for my life the second i arrived,” you muttered, brushing dust from your tattered clothes. “the black tide’s aggression was… beyond what the records described.”

“of course it was,” mydei said flatly. “any book written about castrum kremnos is outdated the moment it’s finished. this place is a graveyard that keeps changing its shape.”

"you seem to know a lot about this place. who exactly are you?" now, it was your turn to do the questioning.

mydei tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering behind his golden eyes. "you're bold for someone who was just gasping for breath on the ground."

you crossed your arms, ignoring the lingering ache in your limbs. "and you're avoiding the question."

he let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no warmth in it. "fine," he said, stepping back just enough to put a measured distance between you. "mydeimos. i’ve been fighting the black tide longer than you’ve been writing that little paper of yours."

his eyes flicked toward the ruined horizon, scanning the shifting shadows with the ease of someone who knew this battlefield all too well. “this kingdom—what’s left of it—was mine once.”

your breath hitched. his?

the two of you began to learn more about each other as he brought you back to his throne. it was an unexpected friendship(?) but you were gaining many useful facts for your paper.

the history of this place goes further back than you could imagine.

you even learned more about the famous chrysos heirs you heard about in passing. you eagerly had him tell all his stories about them, making sure not to miss a detail.

it went on like this for a few days; he would fight off the black tide and answer your many questions.

there was a shift, though, when he came back from a battle to you packing your notes.

mydei paused in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he watched you gather your things. the usual calm demeanor he carried in battle seemed absent now, replaced with something colder, more intense.

"you're leaving," he said flatly, his voice carrying a trace of something you couldn’t quite place—was it annoyance?

you froze, your hands stilling mid-motion as you turned to face him. "i—" you started, but the words felt tangled in your throat.

"i’m almost finished with my research," you admitted, avoiding his gaze as you zipped up your bag. "i can’t stay here forever, especially with the black tide still lingering."

truthfully, mydei had grown quite attached to you. he hasn't had contact with another person for weeks before you came along; and for you to just leave so quickly?

no, he couldn't have that.

he muttered, almost to himself, his voice lowering as he looked away, briefly losing his composure. “no one... no one’s cared to come this far. you...” he paused, and when his eyes met yours again, they were heavy with something you hadn’t expected. “you’re not leaving.”

you took a step back, your breath shaky as mydei’s intense stare bore into you.

“mydei—” you started, but the words faltered on your lips. you wanted to argue, to tell him that you had your own life to get back to, your own reasons for leaving. but the weight of his presence—his intensity—made you hesitate.

he stepped forward, his hand snaking out to grab your wrist with an iron grip, pulling you closer to him in a way that left no room for resistance. "you're not walking out on me," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

“you came into my life at the worst possible time,” he said, his voice softer, yet thick with something you couldn’t quite name. "you walked into this kingdom, into my mess, and for a second, it felt like... like maybe i wasn’t as alone as i thought."

you realized the black tide was already getting to him, just not in the way it would most.

phainon `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

"you look absolutely gorgeous in the sun. though, i wonder, must you enjoy it without me?"

this was your third day walking out from phainon's grasp.

"why do you insist on following me?" you asked, keeping your voice steady as you continued walking, pretending as though his words hadn’t made your heart skip a beat.

you felt the weight of his gaze, the way it traced every curve of your form, making your skin tingle, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t wanted.

phainon chuckled, the sound low and dark, a perfect match for the man he was. "follow you? darling, you belong to me. whether you like it or not."

he caught up with you quickly, his long strides making up for the distance you’d put between you. before you knew it, he was beside you, his presence as commanding as the sun itself.

"you think you can leave me so easily?" his voice was a whisper, just enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. you could feel his eyes on you, even though you refused to meet his gaze.

when you didn't answer, he took it as his sign to continue. "i do enjoy your confidence. you're just so perfect. you must like the chase as much as i. is that what it is, [name]?"

phainon placed a hand over his heart as he felt his face flush.

you felt a flicker of anger surge through you, though it quickly turned to frustration. "this isn't a game," you said, trying to bite back the heat in your voice. "you don’t get to decide what i do, phainon."

phainon’s hand placed itself over his chest again, but this time, it wasn’t just for show. his fingers curled against the fabric, almost as though he was holding back something deeper. "i feel it every time you try to leave me. every step you take away from me."

his voice dropped, smooth and low, like a promise or a threat. "and the more you try to run, the more I want to keep you close."

"you're insane." you couldn't hold back the venom in your voice.

"i'd like to think of it more as being in love." phainon's hand gently took yours, holding you in place.

he kneeled in front of you, bringing your hand to his lips.

his lips lingered on your skin, tracing along the tips of your fingers, sending a shiver through you that you couldn’t ignore. "so go ahead," he whispered, leaning in close, his breath brushing against your hand. "run again. i’ll let you. but just know... i’ll find you."

phainon rose to his feet, still holding your hand gently but firmly, his grip a reminder of the inescapable pull that seemed to draw you to him. "you don't have to make this harder than it needs to be," he murmured, the teasing edge gone from his tone, replaced by something more serious. "i just want you to understand... i will never let you go."

phainon was quick to shift his personality back to easygoing. "you've been out here long enough; care to join me for a bath?"

you knew there was no changing his mind. "...could we get something to eat after?"

phainon’s smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as if he had already won some unspoken victory. "of course," he said smoothly. "i can even bathe and feed you. you must be tired after such a long day."

the familiar blush crept up his face, one he didn't care to hide. just the thought of being able to touch your body and be that close to your lips was exhilarating.

i loved writing mydei's, i might have to make another scenario with it 🤔🤔

the lion's shadow

PAIRING: King Callixto x Servant Reader

Warning/s: Surprisingly, none?

Read the series: [ ONE ] | [ TWO ] | [ THREE ]

Note: I might publish this series and other future releases in advance somewhere. Also, if I were to write a book, will you support me? Just wondering before releasing something.

TIP JAR | COMMISSION

For the first time in a long while, your days were quiet. Peaceful.

The shack, though small and weathered by time, had become a sanctuary. The morning sun spilled through the cracks in the wooden walls, dust motes dancing in the golden light as you stirred awake to the soft chirping of birds. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine, a stark contrast to the stifling perfume and candle smoke that clung to the walls of the palace you had once called home.

Here, you woke to silence, not the murmurs of servants or the distant chime of the court’s bells. Here, you chose how to spend your days.

You had found a rhythm in your solitude. Each morning, you would step outside, feet sinking into the damp soil, hands brushing against the wildflowers growing in the clearing. The wind carried the scent of honeysuckle, mixing with the distant smokiness of burning wood from a village far beyond the trees. You would gather what you could—berries, roots, herbs that you recognized from your mother’s teachings—and return home with your hands full, your child growing steadily beneath your ribs.

At midday, you would sit outside, weaving. A half-finished sweater lay in your lap, the wool coarse against your fingers, but you took comfort in the act of creating something. A gift for the child who had no name yet, who stirred within you when the sun was at its highest, reminding you that you were never truly alone.

Evenings were the most beautiful. When the sun dipped behind the trees, the world turned golden, the leaves burning in hues of amber and rust. Fireflies blinked to life, flickering like tiny stars caught between branches. The air smelled of earth after rain, of moss and damp bark, and in the distance, the distant hoot of an owl signaled the coming of night.

It was a quiet life. A small life. But it was yours.

For the first time in so long, you felt… safe.

No whispered court gossip, no watchful eyes lingering on your every move. No suffocating presence lurking just beyond your reach.

You dared to believe you had finally escaped him.

But peace, as you would soon learn, was a fleeting thing.

It came first as a sound.

A knock.

Loud. Desperate.

Your heart seized.

Another knock—no, pounding now. Fists striking against the wooden door, heavy enough to rattle the walls.

Your breath hitched. Hands trembling, you set the half-knitted sweater aside, gaze darting toward the door.

The knocking didn’t stop.

You swallowed down your panic, muscles coiling with the instinct to hide.

Then—

“Help me, please!”

A voice. A woman’s voice, raw and desperate.

“Help!”

Your body moved before your mind could catch up. In two quick strides, you were at the door, hand hovering over the latch.

A plea like that—you knew it too well. The breathless panic, the urgency, the weight of something unseen pressing against the voice.

You had once been on the other side of that door.

With a final glance around, you unbolted it and pulled it open.

The woman before you was disheveled, dressed in tattered cloth, her hair clinging to her damp forehead. She stumbled forward, barely catching herself. Wild eyes met yours, and something in them—a deep, unshakable fear—sent a chill skittering down your spine.

She had been running.

And something—someone—was coming after her.

"Hurry," she gasped.

Without thinking, you pulled her inside.

Your peace was over.

She sat hunched in one of the old wooden chairs your father had carved, hands curled around a steaming noggin of water. It wasn’t much, but it was the only comfort you could offer.

She clutched it as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded.

The flickering candlelight revealed the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Her fingers, dirtied and trembling, were curled tightly around the mug, the heat of it seeping into her skin. The moment she had stumbled inside, she had sunk into the chair as if her body had finally given out.

You watched her cautiously, standing by the small counter, one hand still resting against your stomach—a protective reflex.

The silence between you stretched, thick with unspoken questions.

When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse. "How far along are you?"

You blinked at the suddenness of the question, then hesitated, glancing down at the curve of your belly. "I… don’t know."

Her lips parted slightly, as if she meant to say more, but she simply nodded. "Ah. My apologies."

A beat of silence. Then she took a sip from the mug, the warmth chasing away some of the tremor in her hands.

You weren’t sure why, but you found yourself speaking. "I’m not a lady."

Her gaze snapped to yours.

You gestured toward the tattered drape over her shoulders. "The quality of that fabric alone could feed an entire village. If anyone here is a lady, it’s you."

Something flickered across her face, a shadow of something old and weary, but she didn’t deny it.

"You could stay," you offered quietly, watching her reaction carefully. "This shack—it’s safe. If you need somewhere to hide, you’re welcome to it."

Her eyes widened, caught between gratitude and suspicion. "And you?"

You shrugged, already gathering what little you owned into a cloth bundle. "I need to get further away. If you found this place, it’s only a matter of time before someone else does too."

Her head bowed, shame and guilt evident in the way her hands tightened around the mug. "I’m sorry…"

"Don’t be," you said simply.

She hesitated, then set the mug down and looked up at you. "Please… take care of yourself. And if—if we ever meet again, I hope I can return the favor."

A wry smile tugged at your lips. "I hope so too."

And with that, you turned toward the door, pulling your hood low over your face.

You didn’t look back.

The journey was grueling.

For days, you moved through the forest, guided only by fading memories of old maps and the sun's slow arc across the sky. The dense canopy above swallowed most of the daylight, leaving you to navigate through shadows. Your feet ached, blistered and raw, and the weight of exhaustion pressed heavy on your shoulders.

But you kept moving.

Every rustling leaf, every snap of a branch in the distance set your nerves alight. The paranoia never faded, not even when the trees thinned and the scent of burning wood and fresh bread filled the air.

And then, at long last, you saw it.

A village.

Small, tucked away beyond the treeline, its lantern-lit streets brimming with life.

The sight made your knees weak.

You pulled your hood lower, adjusting the strap of your bundle, and stepped forward.

The village was a sanctuary—a place untouched by the cruelty of men who sat upon thrones and dictated the fates of those beneath them. Here, the air was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the laughter of children filled the streets, and the golden hues of sunset painted the rooftops with warmth. It was the kind of place where people looked after one another, where neighbors shared meals without expectation, and where secrets were hidden beneath smiles rather than steel.

It was the kind of place you could imagine raising your child.

Life had been kind since you arrived, a stark contrast to the gilded prison you had once called home. You had your own little room tucked away above the restaurant owned by Mia and Taren, two retired adventurers who had seen enough of the world to know when to walk away from its chaos. The couple had taken you in without question, providing a roof over your head in exchange for helping around their small yet bustling establishment.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt safe.

Mornings were spent preparing the restaurant for the day ahead—wiping down tables, slicing fresh loaves of bread, and brewing pots of strong tea that carried the scent of herbs and spices through the air. The afternoons were busier, filled with the chatter of travelers passing through, adventurers boasting of their latest feats, and villagers exchanging gossip over steaming bowls of stew.

Evenings were the best. By then, the restaurant would settle into a comfortable hum of low conversations, the lanterns casting a soft glow that made the space feel even more like home. Mia would lean over the counter, eyes twinkling as she spun stories from her days as an adventurer, while Taren would shake his head and grumble about how she exaggerated every detail.

It was an ordinary, simple life. And it was yours.

You had begun to hope that maybe—just maybe—you had escaped the past for good.

“Did you hear?” Mia leaned in conspiratorially as she set a steaming bowl of soup in front of you. “The king has returned from his campaign.”

Taren scoffed, taking a long sip from his mug before setting it down with a dull thud. “Hmph. More like another bloodbath disguised as a campaign. Every time he rides out, he leaves behind a trail of bodies, and when he returns, the nobles praise him as if he’s the second coming of the gods.”

You blinked, gripping your spoon a little tighter. “The king?”

Mia nodded. “King Aurelian.” Her voice dropped lower, almost hesitant, as if speaking his name too loudly might summon him. “They say he’s taken a new interest in something—or someone.”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the unease curling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

Taren exchanged a glance with Mia before exhaling sharply. “Rumors. That’s all. But the capital has been restless ever since he returned. People whisper about a woman, someone he dragged back from the outskirts—”

Mia elbowed him. “Enough. We don’t want to be accused of treason, do we?” She turned to you with a reassuring smile, but there was something tight about it. “Don’t worry about it, dear. It has nothing to do with us.”

You forced yourself to nod, even as the conversation left a lingering chill on your skin.

Nothing to do with us.

And yet, an unease settled deep in your bones.

Two months passed in peaceful monotony.

Your belly grew heavier with each passing day, and though your movements had slowed, you were grateful for the stability the village provided. The people here were kind—offering remedies for your aching feet, slipping extra portions of food onto your plate, and treating you as one of their own despite your foreign accent and unfamiliar past.

The world outside these borders felt like a distant nightmare, something that belonged to another life entirely.

Until the night he arrived.

The moment the doors swung open, you barely registered the gust of cold air that followed. It was the silence that struck first—the sudden, crushing weight of it. The air in the tavern shifted, thick with unspoken tension, a hush so absolute that even the crackling fire seemed subdued.

And then, the man stepped inside.

You didn’t recognize him, not in the way you had once memorized names and faces back in the palace. But you recognized something else. The kind of presence that did not belong in a quiet village like this. The way everyone around you reacted—Mia shrinking behind the counter, Taren stiffening as his fingers curled tightly around his mug, the way the remaining patrons averted their eyes, some even lowering to their knees as if bound by an unspoken law.

Your breath caught in your throat, something primal and urgent seizing your gut. Your fingers clenched against your lap as you forced yourself to breathe, to stay still—because a reaction would only draw more attention. But it was useless.

His gaze swept the room, deliberate and slow, and then—

He saw you.

The moment his eyes met yours, something inside you recoiled, the hairs along your arms rising. You didn’t know this man. Had never met him. And yet—

Your stomach twisted.

The way he looked at you, the way his lips curved into something almost lazy, almost amused—it was the look of a man who had found something valuable. Something he wasn’t supposed to have, and yet here it was, sitting right in front of him like an offering from fate itself.

You felt sick.

He doesn’t know who you are, you told yourself. He can’t. You had left that life behind, abandoned it in the dirt along with everything else. You were just another villager now, another nameless woman hidden away in a place the court had no reason to look.

And yet, instinct screamed at you that it didn’t matter.

Because he didn’t need to know your name.

He only needed to know that you didn’t belong here.

That someone, somewhere, would pay handsomely to have you dragged back.

Nausea clawed its way up your throat.

“I never thought I’d find her here,” he murmured, his voice smooth, almost indulgent, as if he were savoring the moment.

Your stomach clenched.

His gaze drifted, lower now, to the curve of your belly. Something flickered in his expression—surprise, intrigue, and something deeper, unreadable. Then, a slow, dark amusement settled into his eyes.

“And a bonus.”

The floor seemed to tilt beneath you.

Your pulse roared in your ears, and for a split second, you couldn’t move. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to run, but your limbs felt frozen, locked in place by the suffocating weight of knowing.

He wasn’t here for you. Not specifically.

But he would take you anyway.

And once he knew—once he realized—

Your stomach twisted violently.

You didn’t think. You moved.

The chair scraped against the floor as you shot to your feet, your heartbeat thundering. Taren inhaled sharply, but you barely heard him. Every instinct was screaming now, every muscle coiling with the need to flee—

Then, he stepped forward.

Unhurried. Certain.

His guards shifted in tandem, just enough to remind you that the door was no longer an option. And suddenly, you knew.

They weren’t going to let you leave.

Your breathing came fast, too fast, and for the first time in months, you felt truly trapped. Not by walls, not by distance, but by the simple, cruel reality that you were prey.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

You had made a mistake.

You had let yourself believe you were safe. That peace could be more than just a fleeting dream. That no one would ever come looking.

But safety has always been a lie.

And freedom?

It had never been yours to keep.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @kthehoeforfictionalmen @yamekocatt

← Previous | Next →

NSFW

warning: slight corruption kink, yandere behavior, panty stealing, breeding kink, dubcon if you squint

EHEHEH thinking about yandere!angel who has never been hard before.

He sees you, such a pretty little human he’s meant to watch over. You’re so soft and plump, your body stirs something in his belly that he doesn’t completely understand.

And he sees you undressing one night, your form completely bare before his very eyes.

Angels always walk around in the nude, they aren’t ashamed of their bodies… so why does his cock start to twitch and harden?

He doesn’t understand, this has never happened before and the feeling is unbearable. Something in his body wants to be closer to you, to… connect with you.

The angel approaches your room, quiet as he opens your window and slides in with ease. He’s not sure what he should do, but he spots your discarded clothing.

It’s shameful, how he even thinks about stealing an item of your clothing. Your panties are your favorite color, lacy with a little bow on the front. He can spot a slight wetness there, and he starts to drool.

Why is his body reacting like this? His cheeks flush a crimson red as he flees your home, your underwear in his hand. He flies far away, as if trying to escape his new, lustful feelings.

He isolates himself in a small cave, slowly draping your panties over his throbbing cock. The feeling of your slick coated panties touching his tip made him hiss out in pleasure.

Of course, the angel had never masturbated before. He came within just a few strokes, but his cock was still so swollen. Every time he thought about your plush frame, his tip dribbled precum, and he couldn’t help but jerk off again.

It just wasn’t enough… soon he felt so sore, and his hands weren’t soft like yours, and he bet your lips or pussy would feel so much better…

He was your protector, wasn’t he? It made sense that he’d get to fuck his precious little cherub, his sweet girl, right?

Wouldn’t it be a blessing to put a baby in your belly?

Usually the angel had no trouble flying, but now he was trying his best to concentrate on getting to your home.

You spot him in the window, your eyes still bleary from sleep. He’s the picture of elegance, with long, flowing blonde hair and gorgeous dark eyes…

“Be not afraid, I am a messenger of god…” he panted, cheeks flushed pink. “You… have been chosen for something… great…”

He walked in, your curtain billowing around him as he stretched out and lightly clapped his snow-white wings.

His eyes were on your skimpy nightgown, and the way it barely covered your plush thighs.

“You’ve been chosen… to carry my child…”

Your plump thighs squished together, causing him to let out an involuntary moan. “Ch-child? How would you… do that? Touch my belly or something, like the Virgin Mary?”

His eyes were clouded with lust as he approached your bed, his hand trembling with need. “No, my sweet girl… I am no God, I’ll have to take a much more… direct approach.”

In an instant he was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours with an urgency only to be expected of a virgin. He was inexperienced, but tasted like honey and was as gentle as he possibly could be.

Already his erection was pressing against your thigh, and he unceremoniously thrusted his hips, trying to get more friction.

You were so damn soft, warm to the touch. It was taking everything in him not to ravish you instantly.

His fingers danced across your clothed cunt, testing the waters. When he pulled his hand back, it was wet and with a soft lick, his eyes went wide.

You tasted amazing.

Though he wanted to devour your fat cunt, he needed yo be inside of you even more. He was in pain, his cock aching and begging your your warmth to envelope him.

You watched his wings twitch as he positioned himself between your legs. The white feathers were soft to the touch, and you held onto them while he pushed in.

The angel couldn’t help himself, the second he felt your warm pussy he went crazy. His head was buried in your neck, his hips slapping against yours as he struggled to control his body.

He had never felt so good before, the angel was committing a terrible sin but he didn’t care, not one bit.

“S-so good, you’ll have your reward in heaven…” he blubbered out, cheeks red and covered in pleasured tears. “God…”

He came so quick, painting your walls white as hips nails dug into your hips.

All he wanted to do now was wrap his wings around you, holding you close. The angel didn’t pull out, you felt way too warm and comfy for that.

As he kissed your head and snuggled with you in bed, he was sure that that this was fate. Perhaps he was meant to lust after you…

You were something special, and no one would take you away from him.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

Thank you so much for fulfilling my commission request! I enjoyed reading this story so much, and I really love how you gave the reader a lot of lore/background!

in the lion's keep

WARNING/S: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Yandere. Noncon. Dubcon. Power Imbalance. Forced Pregnancy. Captivity. Manipulation. Psychological and Physical Control. Violence. Emotional Distress. Character/s: King Callixto x Servant!Reader Note/s: A commission for @violetvase. I hope you enjoy this one!

From this series: Silent Servitude

Tip Jar | Commissions

Your mother has always been your biggest supporter.

She never once stifled your dreams, no matter how small or ambitious they were. When you insisted on selling flowers in the town square on behalf of the old florist to earn your own keep, she worried, but she did not stop you. Your parents feared for your safety, but your older siblings watched over you, making sure no harm would come your way.

It lasted for months—until children your age began disappearing, vanishing one after another without a trace.

Your siblings stopped letting you leave the house after that. The warm sun, the scent of fresh bread in the marketplace, the laughter of the townsfolk—it all became distant, mere memories behind locked doors. You were forced to watch the world from behind wooden shutters, longing for the life you had barely begun to taste.

Years passed before they finally deemed it safe enough for you to step outside again. And when you did, you threw yourself into rebuilding.

With what little savings you had, you opened a food stall in the marketplace, selling treats that made both children and adults smile. Your business thrived. Customers returned with praises, telling you how much they enjoyed your cooking. It gave you a sense of purpose, a taste of the independence you had long craved.

Then, one night, your stall was stolen

Not just stolen—destroyed. Burned to ashes near the town's tavern.

No one saw anything. No one heard anything. No one even smelled the smoke.

The loss devastated you, snuffing out the fragile hope you had so desperately clung to. When you fell deeper into despair, your mother was the one who lifted you back up. She taught you the skills she had learned from years of working in the palace—how to clean, how to serve, how to navigate the world of nobility without drawing attention to yourself. You listened. You learned. And when she deemed you ready, you followed in her footsteps.

You had thought you were stepping toward a new beginning.

Instead, you walked straight into a gilded cage.

A warm calloused hand rubs slow circles over your bare stomach. Your body is sore, ruined, yet the touch is deceptively gentle—reverent even.

Callixto.

The King.

The man who had stolen you, body and soul, and refused to let go.

His breath is hot against your neck as he presses his lips there, inhaling you like a man intoxicated. He traces his fingers up your stomach, over your ribs, cupping your breast with possessive ease. You squeeze your eyes shut, bile rising in your throat as last night's memories resurface—the way he held you down, the way he filled you over and over until you were too weak to fight him.

“You're perfect,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against your back. “You'll be a wonderful mother to our children. The mother of my heirs… My queen.”

No.

Your breath shudders as you push weakly at his arm, but you might as well be trying to move stone. Your body betrays you—limp exhausted, drained of all strength.

How long has it been?

Days? Weeks?

You can't tell. The chamber windows are tinted, making it impossible to see the sun or the moon. And Callixto… Callixto never leaves your side for long. He lingers, watching you, touching you, whispering sweet, poisonous words into your ear.

The chambermaid is no help, either.

She either glares at you with thinly veiled disdain or ignores you completely, doing only what is required of her. You don't know why she hates you, but it doesn't matter. She's your warden all the same.

There's no one here for you. No mother, no siblings. No bustling marketplace or warm, flickering hearth waiting for you at home.

There's only this prison.

And him.

“Your Majesty,” the chambermaid's voice cuts through the heavy silence. “Lord Soleil awaits you at the gates.”

Callixto tenses, as if irritated by the reminder that the outside world still exists beyond these walls. His fingers dig into your hip as he thrusts forward once more, a sharp, punishing movement that sends a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you.

He finishes deep inside you, groaning against your skin. For a moment, he stays there, reveling in the feeling. Then, with agonizing care, he pulls out—only to press his fingers back inside, pushing his seed deeper.

A shiver wracks your body.

“I suppose I've stolen enough time for myself,” he murmurs, brushing damp hair away from your face.

You force yourself not to flinch.

Callixto cups your chin, tilting your face towards his. His golden eyes burn with something twisted, something sickeningly sweet. Then, he kisses you. A deep, lingering kiss that suffocates you more than any chain ever could.

“Stay here and be good,” he orders, his lips still brushing yours. “Let the chambermaid take care of you until I return.”

As if you have a choice.

As if you ever had a choice.

And when the doors finally close behind him, your body sags into the mattress, silent tears slipping down your cheeks. 

Not just for yourself.

But for the family you may never see again.

For the freedom that may never return.

And for the life that is no longer your own.

The towering walls of the chateau couldn't keep the rumors from reaching you. They were the only thing that kept you sane while you waited for him to return.

You heard whispers about a grand ball the Prime Minister held a few nights ago. It should've been a night of celebration, but instead, it ended in scandal. His wife, a noble woman and the daughter of a count, was caught in bed with a mere footman—nothing more than a commoner.

Lord Soleil, the Prime Minister, himself had walked in on them. The punishment was swift.

The footman was cast out with nothing, and the Prime Minister cut all ties with his wife and her family, erasing them from his life as if they had never existed.

A cruel fate. 

And yet you wondered…

Was it any crueler than yours?

“Perhaps this is why Lord Soleil was so determined to keep His Majesty away from the chateau—away from me. Not just to protect the royal bloodline, but to stop him from making the same mistake his wife did.” You sighed, your breath barely disturbing the still air.

“I can't even blame him. If I were in his position, I wouldn't want a common-born woman anywhere near the throne either. And yet, here I am—trapped in these gilded walls, reduced to nothing more than a vessel, waiting for the day my body finally serves its purpose.”

You leaned against the cool stone wall near the tinted windows, listening to the little birds outside as they carried rumors flitting between the flower beds. Their chatter was a fleeting distraction, a fragile moment of stolen peace—until it was shattered by the sound of heavy boots echoing through the halls.

The doors flew open, and there he stood. The King. Furious.

He called out your name—sharp, urgent, unrelenting—his voice slicing through the chateau hollow corridors like a blade. You didn't move. You barely even breathed. Instead, you pressed yourself against the cold stone wall, your fingers curling into your dress as his footsteps thundered across the marble floors.

He ran upstairs, frantic, taking the steps two at a time. He hadn't even noticed you standing near the windows, so close yet unseen. But you knew it wouldn't last. He always found you in the end.

Outside, the world had fallen eerily silent. The chattering birds had already fled the vicinity, as if sensing the storm brewing within these walls—taking their half-spun whispers with them. The rumor of the king's impending nuptials to a high-ranking noble still lingered in the air, unspoken yet suffocating.

And soon, he would come back down. And this time, he would see you.

Your name tore from his lips again—a furious, desperate plea. Before you could react, his hands found you, his grip ironclad around your arms.

“Where have you been?” His voice was raw, unsteady. His fingers dug in. “Didn't you hear me calling for you?”

“Y-Your Majesty…”

He shook his head. “No—my name.”

Bloodshot, unfocused eyes bore into you. Something was wrong. His gaze sent a slow, creeping dread up your spine.

“Say it.”

“C-Callixto…”

A slow nod. Then, his arms crushed you against him. “You're mine,” he murmured against your hair, his breath searing against your skin. “Forever mine. And I will be forever yours.”

The walls seemed to shrink around you.

“Callixto… Your Majesty… I can't breathe—” you rasped, struggling against his suffocating embrace. 

He didn't let go.

“Please…”

A beat of silence. Then, at last, he loosened his grip—but only slightly.

“Apologies, my queen,” he murmured, lifting your trembling hand to his lips.

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You had to calm him. You had to survive this.

You recalled your mother's old ways—how she soothed your father's anger, how she tamed your brothers’ tempers. Slowly, carefully, you reached for his cheek, brushing your fingers against his skin.

“Tell me your worries…”

“The royal court has been trying to push this woman onto me for as long as I can remember—something about securing the heir to the throne’s bloodline. The nerve of those fools,” he muttered, absently running his fingers through your hair as you lay atop him.

“If I wanted to, I could trace your family's lineage—alter it if necessary— and keep them out of our way.”

Listening to his monologue as you drift in and out of consciousness feels more exhausting than it should. You know you should try to persuade him to accept the will of his people, to yield to their demands—but deep down, you wonder if it would be easier if someone else had his full attention instead. If only he'd let you go.

“Perhaps we should secure an heir to the throne first… then we can look into your lineage…” he whispered, thrusting into you once more. His seed spilled from you as his movements grew more intense with every passing second.

Since then, it had become his ritual to fill you to the brim, keeping you in place—stuffed, trembling, and utterly his— until he was satisfied. Only then would he leave to rule his kingdom, but never without ensuring you remained exactly as he left you, his claim unmistakable. He controlled everything—the meals you ate, the tonics you drank—all carefully chosen to prepare your body for the sole purpose of carrying his heir.

You were his, and soon, you would bear proof of it.

It didn't take long for the signs to show.

The nausea. The exhaustion. The unbearable weight in your lower belly that told you something had taken root inside you.

And yet, luck has not abandoned you entirely.

Your chambermaid—a woman whose disdain for you was only rivaled by her loyalty to the royal court—had noticed. She must have. But instead of betraying your condition, she pressed a cold cloth to your forehead and muttered, “A commoner’s flu. Nothing more.”

A lie. A calculated one.

The King believed her.

But belief was fragile in a mind like his. It splintered easily.

His golden eyes flicked between the chambermaid and the royal physician, narrowed and gleaming, hungry for an answer that neither of them dared to give.

“Her color is pale,” Callixto murmured, pacing your chambers. His fingers twitched—fidgeting, trembling, curling into claws before stretching straight again. “She barely eats, barely moves. And yet you say it is nothing?”

The physician bowed his head. “It is a seasonal illness, Your Majesty. A touch of fever, some exhaustion—nothing that cannot be cured with rest.”

Callixto laughed—a dry, humorless sound. His nails dug into his palms, leaving little crescent moons of pain.

“Rest,” he echoed. His voice was a whisper of rage, of something darker crawling beneath his skin. “You think I have not noticed? She wilts before my very eyes, and you tell me to wait?”

The chambermaid stepped forward then, expression schooled into reluctant sympathy. “Your Majesty, she is weak. He kind does not fare well in the colder months. It is not surprising.”

Callixto stilled. His breathing slowed, deliberate, controlled—but his eyes never left her face.

“Weak?” The word came soft, almost thoughtful. “Is that what you believed?”

The chambermaid hesitated.

Something in the air shifted.

A warning.

Callixto's lips twitched—not in a smile, no. In something sharper. Something that showed his teeth.

“Fine,” he murmured. “If she must rest, then she will do so under your watchful eye. I want no one else near her.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

But as the King turned away, the chambermaid gaze flicked down—her fingers twitching at the pouch hidden beneath her apron. The weight of the promised coin.

The chateau felt emptier than ever one evening. The halls echoed with the distant clatter of preparations from the palace—the banquet, the foreign dignitaries, the noble guests.

A distraction.

And when the chambermaid entered your chambers, her usual sneer was absent. Instead, she carried a bundle of clothing.

“You need to leave tonight.”

Your stomach twisted. “Why?”

“Because I tire of wiping your sweat.” She threw the bundle onto your bed. “Because I want you gone.”

You swallowed hard. “And that's all?”

The chambermaid exhaled sharply. Something in her posture—something tired and worn—hinted at an answer she would never give.

“The palace gates will be open for the banquet. No one will be watching the chateau. Take the back corridors, follow the outer gardens. You are not important enough to be noticed.”

“What do you gain from this?”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “What I was promised.”

You should've asked by whom. But you didn't.

The scream shattered the night.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The chambermaid barely had time to compose herself before the doors to your chambers slammed open, cracking wood against stone.

Callixto stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with each uneven breath. His pupils had swallowed the gold of his irises, leaving only thin rings of amber around black pits. His fingers curled at his sides, nails digging into his own skin, but he did not seem to notice the blood welling beneath them.

His gaze snapped to the bed. Empty.

Something inside him snapped with it.

“Where is she?” he repeated, stepping forward, his voice no longer a demand but a plea.

The chambermaid bowed, but her voice was steady. “Resting, Your Majesty. The fever worsened—”

“Liar.”

The word cut through the room like a blade. The chambermaid flinched.

Callixto's hands trembled. “She would not leave her bed unless someone forced her to,” he whispered. His tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips. “Unless someone… took her from me.”

He turned, suddenly—too suddenly—and grabbed the chambermaid’s wrist.

“You would not betray me, would you?”

The chambermaid swallowed.

“Of course not, Your Majesty.”

His grip tightened. Bones creaked.

“No, of course not,” he echoed, smiling now—serpentine, sharp. His head tilted. “Because if you had…” he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I would tear this palace apart. Brick by brick. And when I found her—oh, when I found her—”

He released her.

“Find her,” he murmured. “Or I will find you instead.”

The chambermaid bowed, stepping backward toward the door. “As you command.”

But she didn't turn fast enough to see his lips curl into something… inhuman.

He turned back to the empty bed, trailing a hand over the sheets as if he could still feel you there. His fingers ghosted over where your head had once rested, then curled into the pillow, dragging it close. He inhaled—deeply, desperately—like a starving man before a feast.

His eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh, my love,” he whispered to no one. “You can run, but you cannot hide.”

The night air was crip—freezing against your cheeks, but blissfully free.

You ran. Through the outer gardens, past the dim lanterns, past the drunken guards too enamored with wine and revelry to notice a shadow slipping past them.

You ran until the scent of the palace faded into the trees. 

Home. You had to go home.

But when you reached the village outskirts, you stopped.

Guards. Stationed outside your family's home.

You shrank into the shadows, heart hammering against your ribs. From where you hid, you could see the single candle in the window—dim, unmoving.

Not flickering.

Not alive.

A silent warning: Do not return.

Tears burned your eyes, but you forced yourself to turn away.

Not toward another village. Not toward a stranger's mercy.

But deeper into the forest.

Through the twisting paths only you knew, past the moss-covered stones and the brook where you once dipped your toes in summer. Past the memories. Past the ghosts.

And there, hidden beneath the tangle of overgrown branches, the shack still stood.

You and your siblings built it once—when you were small, when the world was gentler. A childish hideaway, pieced together from stolen nails and planks too weathered to be missed. A place of whispered secrets and stolen sweets, of giggling beneath a roof that bare kept the rain out.

It was nothing.

But it was enough.

You pushed the warped door open and stepped inside, the scent of damp wood wrapping around you like an old embrace. The cold bit at your skin, but you knew how to survive here. You always had.

With shaking hands, you pressed your back against the wall and slid to the floor.

Outside, the trees whispered.

Somewhere beyond them, the King was hunting.

But you would not be an easy prey.

Not here. Not yet.

—

tbc.

noirscript © 2025

All rights reserved.

Hello! I just came across your writings and I am in love!!! I wanted to request a sequel to "fulfill my wish", or basically a fic about how life would be like for Taron & his general!wife after they've been married for years/had kids?

a look into the future

yandere! emperor oc! x general! fem! reader.

warnings|| none, pure fluff.

reference|| you. bride at the end.

a/n|| hkjshkj thank uuu, also sorry this is a bit short, you can consider it a drabble, hope you like it!!

ironically, it was a peaceful morning, the birds singing as you sit in the wide garden. a few years ago you would have been in your room away from everything, but you had long ago accepted your life, now you're watching your kids running around playing, their voices were loud, filling the silence.

you wouldn't say that you're happy, more like peaceful, taron has somehow convinced you to give up to him, and honestly, you had planned to long ago, because whatever you'll do, you wouldn't be able to escape someone who has a hand on half of the world, especially when you're considered dead to the public.

you were pulled out of your thoughts by tulip, your youngest daughter, she was nearly seven winters of age, she came up to you pouting "my dress got torn" she said, holding her sleeve up to you.

you let an 'oh' as you examine her wrist, mainly looking if she was hurt, "do not worry about it, i will sew it."

tulip was her father's queen, he didn't difference between your kids but she was definitely a little too spoiled, he never turned her asks down, getting her what she wanted and what she didn't.

"father!" you heard theodore-your oldest son, ten winters of age-yell in excitement, you and tulip look up to see taron coming down to you, a gentle smile creeped on his face, as theodore run to him, he grunt as he pick him up, you see him ruffle his head, he kept walking in your direction, nodding along as theodore talks about something.

when they reach you, taron bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch still as uncomfortable to you as ever, but you can't withdraw, at least not in front of your kids.

he sits in front of you, theodore in his lap noticing the pout on tulip's face "what is wrong with my princess?" he asks, his hand coming to her side, getting her in his lap as well.

she show him her sleeve, "she torn her dress" theodore point out, taron pouts, mimicing tulip's expression "aww, how did that happen?" he asks, tracing the torn with his fingers "i will buy you another one,hm? do not be sad."

"no need i will sew it." you say, preventing him from bringing unnecessary items, she already has a full closet of dresses.

"now my delicate flower, no harm in buying something new, no?" he state.

you only sigh, if there's anything you had learned about him, is that he would never back down on something he want to do.

"me too father! i want something new!" theodore say, tugging on taron's clothes.

"theodore!" your protest went unheard as taron turned his attention back on his son "you want something new as well? very well, what is it that you want?", theodore stayed silent for a minute then he just shrug" i do not know but i want something".

taron laughed "oh you little rascal, fine then we shall go to the markets, today."

your children's face lit up at this, tulip pointed on you and said in excitement "can mother come along with us?", and you already knew the answer when taron's smile wavered "absolutely not, what did we discuss before? you mother can not go any step outside the castle, it is dangerous for her." he said in a scolding tone, his gaze drift to you between his words.

...however your life will change, his ways will never do. you'll be forever an imprisoned bride.

mean prince

description: yandere prince x fem reader, yandere prince x princess, arranged marriage, toxicity, angst? cheating, when I wanna write sad things I listen to sad songs, it helps me loll

You stood before your betrothed, safely locking away any emotions that would cause you to scream and run away from this awful situation.

You didn’t want to be married to him! You didn’t want to be here! You just wanted to go back home.

Why weren’t you in your own kingdom, tending to your beautiful garden and doing your princess duties like usual. Why did this scum of a kingdom have to take over yours? And why were you being married to this awful prince.

His empty cold stare only made you shiver even more in this cold full church. You were too dazed to realize he had finished his fabricated vows until your mother snapped at you from the front row of seats. You hastily said those two words of imprisonment before having to give up your first kiss along with your life.

Even the wedding night was empty and cold, he wasn’t with you. You could only wonder in the uncomfortable setting on what he could possibly be doing to not spend the first night with his wife.

You stopped caring about what he could be doing and should be doing after that night. You decided you would act like a perfect wife, one that listened and did her duties to sit and look pretty.

You would lovingly speak to him as if you weren’t just trying to make this marriage easier. You would craft him cute gifts, like a new coat or shirt! You were also taught how to work with wood so you even created him a new handle for his knife!

This was before Xavier shut down all ideas of you continuing to work with wood.

“Stop working with wood, it’s unladylike! You should stay in your room where you’re supposed to be and be a regular wife. You certainly don’t want me to go and tell my mother and father that you’re not listening, right?” His tone was condescending like he was speaking to a small child.

You knew he had power of you, and lots of it. You didn’t want your family to get in trouble so you quickly stopped and continued trying to be the best wife you could be. Even if you cried yourself to sleep every night at the thought of you having to try and please him the next day.

He did that all the time though, smacking away any type of love you tried giving to him. If it was wrapped up then he would toss it away, if it was something romantic then he would push you away, telling you that he wasn’t interested today. Nothing seemed to pique his interests.

Except for the copious amount of women he was bringing into his room almost every night. You knew it was happening but you kept quiet, he probably didn’t even want to marry you either but likely had to for the succession of his parent’s kingdom taking over your family’s.

It was annoying though, it was annoying you every night when you would see him laughing and chatting with a gorgeous woman that would enter his room where you would have to hear the moans and whimpers of before another one came the next night.

That’s where you decided none of your efforts would work to please him so why would you continue?

He wasn’t worth your time!

If he was going to cheat then so could you!

You stopped giving Xavier gifts, affection and you definitely stopped asking him to consummate the marriage. You even brought along your own men to play with when you were bored.

It was honestly freeing to finally have peace with the fact that you didn’t have to wake up bright and early, being dressed by maids with puffy and heavy dresses that were probably the most expensive you’ve ever seen. It was even better when you realized you didn’t have to talk to him anymore!

When Xavier started noticing these differences he didn’t say anything at first. He could care less that you weren’t trying anymore. Until something nagged at him. Why weren’t you doing it anymore?

Did you stop loving him? Or did you never love him in the first place?

It honestly pissed him off even more when he started realizing that you were bringing men into your room as well. He hated hearing all the noises and words that came out of your room. He shouldn’t be hearing them from a different room. He should be with you.

He tried acting like it didn’t bother him. As if it didn’t the room didn’t feel empty without seeing you across the table in your seat. Even if he wasn’t talking to you, you would speak about what you did the past day and how the garden has been going.

That was pretty much the only thing he allowed you to do that seemed “wife like” which was to tend to the garden and water the flowers. Of course, the gardener could do that but it wouldn’t be the same to see your hard work pursue onto the beautiful blooming flowers.

Now that you weren’t giving him love or any thoughtful gifts, he felt odd. He wanted you to treasure him as your strong and handsome husband. He wanted you to love him again! He had no clue he would miss your affection so much until it was finally being taken away from him.

The roles were now reversed, Xavier would gift you the richest of silk, along with beguiling jewelry, with no avail, of course. You were finally happy with how the situation was and now he wanted to fix it?

You’d wake up to a new bouquet of roses at your bedside everyday. You never threw the plant gifts away because they were still alive and it wasn’t worth killing them just because you hated your husband.

“Hello my love, how did you sleep?” Xavier perked up at you entering the dining room, earlier than usual! You must have started warming up to his presence!

“Fine..” You tried rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes after plopping down in the dining room chair. Today the maids dressed you up in a bewitching pink dress with golden patterns running all around.

“Would you like to sit closer? It feels rather odd having you so far away” He pat the seat closest to him, needing to feel your presence.

You mumbled an okay and attempted to bring your plate with you but a servant did that for you, quickly placing it before you once you sat down.

“I missed having you so close, remember the last time we were this close?” He held your hand in his much larger ones, kissing the top of yours.

“Our wedding? That was two weeks ago” You stared at him puzzled on why he’s been so affectionate lately. Maybe he finally wants to be a good husband but what caused this sudden switch?

“Mhm, I missed your touch” He held both of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. He really seemed like he craved your touch right now. You just couldn’t put your finger on why.

“Is there something you needed?” You took your hands out from his grasp and he tried hiding his disappointed frown.

“No, I just wanted to see my gorgeous wife, is that so wrong of me?” His grin widened seeing how you looked this morning. Sleepy, yet so graceful.

“The same wife that you’ve been cheating on since the start of your marriage? Or is it also the same one that you ignored too?” You scoffed at him trying to attempt at being affectionate. It was out of character for someone like him.

“Well, I’m not sure why you’re mentioning that right now when you’ve done the same! Anyways though, I wanted to talk about finally consummating our marriage” His popping vein on his forehead signaled his anger at the topic of you cheating as well but you didn’t notice anything other than his tone.

“Hah, you’re very humorous” You were in disbelief that now he wanted to act like the perfect husband. You got up, picking up your dress as to not wrinkle it under the sudden movement. You were definitely awake now.

“I’m being serious, what’s so funny about that?” he followed close beside you, as the two of you walked down the enormous hallways of his kingdom.

“Now you want to do that? Noww you do” You couldn’t help but laugh in his face once he looked at you. You couldn’t believe him one bit.

He spent the entire day trying to convince you, even if you made witty remarks and obvious insults, he’d just brush them off with a kiss on your cheek or compliment. He’d do anything to try and make you trust him.

What would Xavier do if the reader tried running away from him & they were pregnant with his child?

He’d trap you in his kingdom, he wanted you stay with him! Even more now that you were carrying his kid! He would keep you locked in his room 24/7, cooing that this was for the best and that you shouldn’t have tried running away because now look what happened!

He’d take care of you, sending butlers and maids to help when he was too busy. You’d understand why this had to happen! Right? You have to!

Hello! Since I read your Yandere OC stories, my head began to ask these questions, how many children do the yanderes want to have for us? Would they get a little jealous when our babies are feeding from us?

hiii!!

you got me really thinking there,okay so

for orson he wouldn't want any children at first because of some past trauma but then i can see him seeing a happy family somewhere and thinking it would be cute to have one looks like you, so he wants to "try", and so you'll end up with one,and i assure you this child's life won't be happy.

taron's a bit complicated, he would want the same number of genders, so you either end up with two children girl and a boy, or ten five girls and five boys, in short, he won't stop until they are even.

aurelius on the other hand is the most sane between them all, he loves big families, so he might have quite a bit, not under four for sure.

as for if they're gonna get jealous over feeding them, i don't think any of them would, orson won't be in the house alot anyway, taron would be as smitten with his children as he is with you, and aurelius as a doctor knows feeding is important to them, however they might get a bit jealous if your attention was on your children for a bit too long.

oc masterlist! `taron`

my perfect soldier

꧁oh my dear "enemy"꧂

happy ever after

꧁guilt is a foreign concept to a tyrant꧂

fulfill my wish

꧁don't rush things, you won't like the results꧂

∆au! heart stealer || pt.2

꧁how does it feel to be the light in taron's darkness?꧂

it's your birthday

꧁it's a special occasion,how would taron handle it?꧂

fulfil my wish

yandere!emperor oc x general!f!reader

warnings// obsession,yandere theme,mention of killing and blood,breaking bones,not proofread, let me know if i missed anything!

refrence// you,my love,flower,your majesty-honor, she/her

a/n//i don't actually know if all of this make sense-

it's been months since you've got married to taron,and you hated every second of it.

your place is in the field with a sword or in a war not in this luxurious life full of lazeness,but he prevented you from using the sword again saying it's too dangerous for an empress to go to the war.

in the start you didn't mind because you don't want to hold the sword against your home,but you can't handle it anymore when you couldn't even go out the castle.

your life start to become plain and boring,you literally had read the entire library.

whenever you open the topic with taron he close it immediately.

You've gave up on getting out from there and didn't argue about it more untill...

You have a younger sister who got married early to one of the soldiers who was under your wing, but he died in one of the battles so you took her and her children responsibilitys on you,You found a job for her to support herself and her children, and you visited them every month but after what happen you forget about her.

you were on your way to taron to give him some papers he had told you to bring because he forgot them in the room when you stumble on one of his correspondents telling him news about the empire and he mentioned something about your sister losing her job.

you had alot of questions first is that how does taron know about her? second Why does he receive her news? She doesn't even live here,but all those questions faded away when you realize you should go visit her.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when the door opened,the correspondent bow in respect and go.

taron smiled softly when he saw you "ah did you bring them already?"

you put the papers on his desk "what did the correspondent told you?" you asked like you didn't hear anything,maybe he'll told you what happen to your sister in details.

"Don't bother yourself with it, it's just normal news about the state of the empire"

you nod in acknowledge "I'll go now then,i need to do something"

"do you now? why don't we drink some tea together,We don't usually sit together" he took your hand and kissed the back of it

you pull your hand quickly "no thanks" then you left.

but then you stopped in your track,Why don't you get closer to him? Maybe he'll let you out the castle then? this idea hit you as you made your way back to him.

you opened the door aggressively "you know what let's drink tea together i don't have anything to do"

taron was confused as much as he was happy,did you finally decided to give him a chance?.

"sure,of course come sit" he said and pull the chair for you to sit on.

when you sat down he demanded the servants to bring two cups of tea in a rush

you sip from your cup in tense,since he sit down he kept just looking at you.

"your tea will get cold" you point out.

"hm?....ah yes,yeah right" he shake his head like he just come to his sense.

you roll your eyes when he wasn't looking.

he sip from his cup befor he speak "What is the reason for the sudden change in behavior,hm?....it's not like i'm complaining of course"

you pause thinking of a reason "...nothing really....I'm-just bored."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise "you're bored? Did the servants fail to bring you anything? do you need anything? should i punish someone?"

"whao there,it's nothing like that i just.....it's boring being here all the time"

he sigh "i don't like where this going to."

"why so? all i ask is a little walk in the cit-"

"no." he shuts you up immediately. "we've talked about that before,if you need anything I'll send someone to bring it to you."

"it's totally different! i need some fresh air"

"the garden is big enough"

"but it's annoying to be in the same place over and over again."

"look.." he say as he made his way to you taking your hands in his "it's all for your safety,we don't know what will happen if you set your foot outside the gates."

"i belive I'm more than capable of myself." you say in annoyance.

taron chuckle slightly "yes,i trust you can of course, let's just say i don't want anyone to see your beauty as well...If I didn't have to, I wouldn't let the servants see you at all"

"that's bullshit" you mutter under yout breath.

"i know you're not the type to stay in one place,but you'll get used to it"

you glare at him in anger and pull your hands from his.

taron sigh in frustration and ran his hand through his hair.

"is boredom the only reason that you want to go out?"

you stayed silent for a moment, "no...i want to visit my sister."

"...oh..you have a sister?"

what a liar,it taking everything in you to not punch him, "i do" you say between gritting teeth.

"don't worry about her,just tell me where is she and I'll take care of her." he smiled at you.

"no need, just let me visit her." you say in desperate.

"I'll think about it" he goes back to his side of the table "i would love to spend some more time with you but i have duties to attend" he say in an apologising tone.

you left the room without saying anything,knowing that it's just lies and he won't let you go.

you're laying down on the bed,you couldn't sleep last night thinking of ways to visit your sister.

Even if you can avoid the servants, you will not be able to avoid the guards outside.

you sigh and gets up to change,you'll think better in the fresh air.

When you open the door to leave, you're stopped by a guard standing at the door.

"please forgive me,your majesty,But it's orders you can't leave your room."

you scoff and get inside,that happened alot when taron get guests.

you sit beside the window looking out at the garden lost in thought,you heard rambling outside the door,that most be the servants busy providing hospitality,poor people.

but that when an idea crossed your mind,everyone busy with the guests,no one will notice you snaking out,And if you use a little of your power as an empress, you can leave, and no one will tell taron immediately.

you open the door again and cut the guard before he say anything "i need to use the lavatory."

the guard look between you and taron's guest room,you clear your throat to get his attention again "I'm sure taron wouldn't mind,in fact he might even get angry if he knew you didn't let me go." you feel a little guilty to use his fear against him but you know you had to,for your sister.

the guard stood in front of you in tense "as you wish,your majesty,but let me escort you."

you had no choice but to accept,now you're here in the toilet thinking about how to get rid of him.

You use one of the moves you had learned as a general,

You pull him in quickly as you apply enough pressure to the carotid arteries,while you cut off the blood flow to his brain, render him unconscious.

you mutter "sorry" and left,walking slowly to the outside gates you've bumped on one or two of the servants who questions you if you need anything or telling you that taron don't want you to go out now,but you brush it off by some excuses as he the one who told you to bring him something or you want something personal from a room.

You have successfully reached the outdoor garden, you made your way to the gates and the guards stopped you "sorry your honor but you are forbidden from leaving, it is the Emperor's orders"

you expected this to happen "I've been given permission to leave"

the guards look at each other and then one of them speak "excuse us but we have to ask his majesty about this"

"are you calling me a liar?" you say sternly.

the guard started to get tense and bow his head "i would never your honor!"

"it's-it's just for safety,your honor,so his majesty won't get upset" the other guard says shakly

"there's no need to disturb him right now,i belive my word is enough to go by,isn't it?"

the guards opened the way to you and shouted "yes of course your honor!"

it would be strange for you to go walking in this clothes in public so you take a trolley to escort you.

your eyes land on a clothes shop,it sells ordinary clothes just the thing you need so you told the trolley driver to stop by it, when you enter everyone star at you,not that they recognize you thank to taron's possessiveness, but because you look more like a royalty to buy something from a store like that.

you ignore the stars and whispers in your way looking for something more comfortable you can run in it if needed...or fight.

when you find what you want and wear it you head to pay but then realize that you didn't bring with you any money,cursing under your breath as you think of something you can pay by, your eyes landed on your ring,your wedding ring,it's not like you loved it anyway so you give it to the seller who look at you with shock but eventually take it of course even if it was too much for the price.

as you walk out the store,you tries to hide your face as much as you can so the trolley driver won't recognize you,when you get far enough you start to walk casually but fast trying to reach your sister as fast as you can before taron knows about your disappear and make a huge deal of it.

8:00p.m

it's been two hour when those shame of royalties has been here,taron grew annoyed,What they say is all bullshit to him,he could kick them out easily and for no reason but he doesn't want to deal with the drama that will happen... not now at least not when you finally softened up to him a little bit,his mood ease a little when he thought of you.

he wonder if you're asleep right now,and hope you're not, he want to spend some time with you again.

8:30p.m

oh finally they're gone!,taron bid them farewell coldly and fast he didn't even escort them to the gates but can they complain? they're lucky enough he even accepted to meet them and didn't kick them out by 5 min.

taron head to your room and got angry when no one stand at the door,didn't he set a guard here?.

he opens the door to your room slowly so he won't wake you up if you were sleeping,But all his annoyance changed to shock when he did not see anyone in the room he made sure to not let you out didn't he?!

taron shouted for the servants to come and by seconds three servants bowing on their hands before him,no one dared to left their head up not when their emperor is angry.

"i belive I've made myself clear to not let y/n left the room,haven't i?,so where is she now?" his tone is terrifyingly filled with coldness.

"We-we were s-s-so busy hosting that we didn't notice anyone leaving,your-your Majesty" one of them say shakly with terror.

"you useless insects!" he shouted "I'll deal with you later,go and prepare my horse and let some of those guards prepare themselves too...quickly!" he demanded.

the servants hurried to do what they had been told.

taron knew exactly where are you going to,if you only waited for some days, he was going to take you there of course he was, why would he prevents you from visiting your sister?? he was just going to make it a surprise but you had to break his words and now you ruined everything, he has to make you learn how to obey him even if he have to use power.

day later

it wasn't easy to left the empire the guards was everywhere, you even had to hide somewhere for like three hours.

but eventually you're out know and close to your sister's house it only take an hour walking.

.

.

.

you finally here after alot of trouble,you knock on the door and your sister opened the door real quick.

"ah-y/n! what-what got you here?"

you didn't answer instead you throw yourself at her and hug here tight,she return the hug but there was something strange about her, she sutter and seems like really anxious,you shrug this feeling off maybe she's still brokendown.

she guster you inside "I've heard about what happened" you say while sitting down.

"o-oh really? it's not a big deal...and i-i heard about your marriage" she brings some tea and biscuit to a table in front of you.

"ugh don't talk about that now,it's miserable..that sham of a man thinks he have the right to control my life or something"

"y-y/n ac-actually he's-"

"but it's true my love, i do have the right to control your life" someone cut your sister off, you recognize that voice, taron

you stand up in a defensive pose quickly wich lead to knock the tray off "what are you doing here?!"

"what? am i not allowed to visit my beloved wife sister?" he said with innocent tone.

you look at your sister with a questioning look,but what got you angry more is how your sister shiver in fear, what did he do to her?!.

"i swear to god taron if you've hurt her!" you warning.

taron only chuckle slightly "I've never heard you say my name,it's like honey when you say it"

you didn't replay don't want to go further with his playing.

taron's expression suddenly turned serious "now let's go back to the castle,and you're going to come with me obediently" he say coldly

you wanted to argue but your sister life is on the line,before you even replay he grabbed your arm and dragged you to his horse behind the house, he ride the horse at first and demand "ride" as you ride hesitantly.

The road to the castle was quiet and full of tension, you knew full well that there would be consequences when you return, but at least your sister was safe.

as soon as you reached your destination, taron took you by your arm forcefully and then threw you on the floor of the room.

you fall on your back hard but you swallow your groan,Before you lift yourself off the ground taron place his foot on your neck It chokes you a little.

"you broke my words,flower. i have to make sure you won't do it again." he say strangely calm as he tuck down and take one of your arms

the next thing you hear is a cracking noise,fuck he broke your arm.

you bite your lips to not scream and sound weak,All thanks to your training as a general,but you eventually let a little groan escape as he force more wight on it.

"you broke my heart,flower. The least i can do is break your arm,and this still not as much pain as I felt" with every word come out his mouth he twists your arm more "be thankful i didn't kill your sister."

with that he left you alone,you lift yourself up and embrace your arm letting out a few tears,it of course doesn't hurt like the battles injuries But this is the first time someone has broken your pride, and who did it? The person you hate most!.

you swear you'll get your revenge someday.

someone knock on the door,you gave permission to enter, the castle's doctor entered,she respectfully told you to sit on the bed so she cast your broken arm. (i guess it's like that?)

When she finished, she wished you a speedy recovery and left.

taron entered as soon as the doctor left,he looked at your arm for some minute before he exhale and sit down beside you.

"you lost that" He takes your good hand and place your wedding ring in your finger,a blood-stained ring,did he kill the clothes seller?!.

"you of course hadn't gave it willingly,so i brought it back to you, don't mind the blood it'll go easly with some soap" he was smiling, how can he smile when he just killed an innocent person!.

maybe the blood on the ring will remind you what taron can do without guilt, if you hadn't listen to him this would've been you sister blood.

he's terrifying.

finallyyyyyy

hope you like it :)!

have a nice day/night♡

Love your writings! What would happen if you put the children of the yanderes (Silas's daughters, Dr. Kry's daughters, Edmund's kids, and Hedwig's kids) in a room together? Which kids would become best friends? Which would become enemies lol

interesting, i have been thinking about this earlier actually, lets see if i remember

Jerry does not have, and does not want, children, which is why she is not involved!

Dr Kry's children (Nadia and Lydia, 17) would most likely be friends with Hedwig's daughter (Violet, 17) because of their ages and similar interests, aka studying different things.

Edmund's son (Ludwig, 17) would probably find Hedwig’s son (Astor, 15) cringe but would still be with each other because they're the only boys and wouldn't want to be with the girls all the time. Ludwig would think that Astor is a bit too emotional and would try to build up his confidence and Astor would probably help him with his daddy issues, trying to build him up as well to find self worth.

Nadia, Lydia and Violet would take care of Silas’s three daughters (Emelie, 14, Sierra, 12 and Darla, 9) and Edmund’s daughter (Victoria, 4) and play games with them. The twins would most likely be better with the younger two, and Violet with the oldest daughter, maybe giving her advice on how to survive teenage years and dealing with younger siblings.

Darla would be best friends with Victoria and feel grown up with her. I see Astor playing with them too, carrying them on his shoulders etc

I think they would get along pretty well, actually. Just like his father is protective of his relative Hedwig, so would Ludwig be over Violet and Astor. He's already extremely protective of his little sister. He would, however, also protect the others since he sees himself as the "leader" of their group (since he's a prince and heir) and would make them get behind him to fight of danger.

This was so nice to write btw♡

Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer. 

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him. 

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again. 

But he did. Somehow, he did. 

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one. 

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you. 

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other. 

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase. 

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights. 

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back. 

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says. 

Me neither, you think. 

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe. 

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered. 

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine. 

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke. 

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes. 

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank. 

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”. 

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint. 

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble. 

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry. 

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away. 

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat. 

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?” 

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping. 

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly. 

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter. 

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling. 

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away. 

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall. 

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him. 

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead. 

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold. 

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty. 

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.” 

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused? 

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in. 

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks. 

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish. 

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him. 

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you. 

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you. 

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder. 

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning. 

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now. 

“I’m not hungry”, you say. 

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing. 

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears. 

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks. 

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers. 

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled. 

His words send icy shivers down your back. 

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky. 

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls. 

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure. 

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside. 

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court. 

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole. 

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body. 

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole. 

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command. 

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries. 

Hello! I found your writings about yan!Dottore & I am a brand new fan!! You are such an awesome writer 😁

Since requests are open, I was wondering if you could write some headcanons/drabbles about how the Genshin men (including Dottore my fave) would react if their darling, who was pregnant with their child, tried to run away? Saying "I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!"

Yandere Genshin Men With a Pregnant Runaway Darling

Yandere Ayato, Dottore, Lyney, Neuvillette, Wriothesley x female reader (separate)

Thank you!<3 I only wrote for five of them, but I’m thinking of writing for more of them in some other parts:) (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Masterlist

Warnings: imprisonment, manipulation

Word count: 2819

Ayato

You ran and ran as fast as your feet could carry you. You needed to get to safety. Both for yourself and for your unborn child. Your bare feet were drumming over the wooden floors.

The Kamisato estate was like maze. The long hallways seemed never ending.

When you finally reached the door that led out to one of the gardens, you were filled with relief. You slid the door open and was welcomed by the heavenly sea breeze. Your joy, was however short lived.

Standing in the garden admiring the purple sunset was Ayato. He turned around and smiled gently. He motioned for you to join him and before you knew it, your feet had brought you by his side.

“The sky is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” his eyes turned upward towards the endless sky.

You followed his gaze. The sky was in fact extremely beautiful. The purple colour the same shade as Ayato’s eyes.

The man besides you was cunning and as cruel as a snake, but he was undoubtedly the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. His dark lashes fluttered as his gaze shifted to you. He remained silent for a while, just taking in the sight of you. He often did just that and it made you nervous, since you could never be completely sure as to what exactly ran through his brilliant mind.

“I’m glad you fell for my little trap. If you hadn’t, I would have to enjoy this sunset all alone. Sunsets are best enjoyed by the side of someone you love, wouldn’t you agree?” his melodic voice coiled around your mind. Enveloping you in a sense of serenity.

You quickly snapped out of it. “I want to leave” your voice low, but your words clear as day.

Ayato hummed at your words “Why is that?”

“Because I’m more like a prisoner than your wife” you snapped.

“A prisoner? What gave you that idea?” he raised a brow.

“Don’t play stupid Ayato” you sneered. “You’re not letting me leave no matter what. Doesn’t that sound awfully a lot like a prison to you?”

“I’m protecting you and at the same time I’m keeping what’s mine far away from prying eyes. I’m doing you a favour” his smirk completely gone and replaced by a cold glare.

“I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” you screamed, not caring about who could hear you.

“Don’t think I’ll ever let you leave me. When you said yes to my proposal, you sealed your faith. It’s not my fault you were unable to think about what the future involved” he smirked at your scared expression. “Don’t cry, I mean you no harm. That much should be obvious.”

Dottore

The dining room was decorated in an attempt at making it cozy. The grand chandelier that hung over the dining table casted a warm light over the table, almost making it homely. The plate in front of you was barely touched. You were hungry, but you didn’t have the time to finish your meal.

You glanced up at the butler who was standing by the door. His eyes was glued to a spot on the far wall and his posture was rigid.

Your cleaned your mouth with the napkin before your rose from your seat. “I’m finished with my meal. Please tell Dottore when he returns to come to my chambers” you told the maid as she silently cleaned up the dishes.

She bowed “Yes madam.”

Your heels clicked against the polished wooden floors. You had to quickly change into different shows and more practical clothing.

You quickly opened the bedroom door and hurried to your huge closet that was the size of a small room. You changed into some thick trousers and warm boots with white fox fur.

You quickly pulled in your coat and a scarf. You opened the large windows and you peered down. You pulled on your hood and your mittens before you ventured down the ladder you had found in an abandoned closet in a part of the house that was rarely ever used.

The ladder creaked underneath your weight and you prayed that it would mange to hold you. Both of you.

You landed into the soft snow and you quickly ran down towards the gates.

The tall wrought iron gates were impossible to climb, especially if one was pregnant, but you had luckily borrowed the key from one of the butlers.

You twisted the key and the gates opens with a load groan. You could smell your freedom.

You locked the gate behind you before you walked down the hill that the house stood tall and proud on top.

The snow glittered in the moonlight and green-purple aurora danced over your head. The sight was so beautiful you almost wept.

As you wandered down the hill you got completely lost in the beauty of the winter landscape. You knew it was foolish, but you hadn’t been outside in so long.

The sound of hoofs snapped you out of your daydreaming. As you raised your gaze you were met with the sight of your husband’s beloved steel grey stallion. The stallion snorted hot air towards you. It looked like a beast at it stood tall in the moonlight.

On top of the proud animal was Dottore. His gaze sharp and would cause anyone who was on the receiving end of it to tremble. You were no different.

“What are you doing out here in the cold?” his voice colder than the cold winter wind that ruffled your hair.

At your silence he only sighed. “You are truly a lost cause. Are you seriously going to cause your unborn child harm in order to escape? You are even more foolish than what I thought” he scoffed as he made the horse circle you.

You spun around in order to keep an eye on his movements. “What makes you think I want to stay with you? Your arrogance disgusts me!” you sneered. “I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” your voice echoed through the treetops that surrounded the hill.

“Watch your tongue” he spat.

Your escape attempt had been a complete failure.

Dottore had reprimanded you for hours when you had been brought back inside.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“If I ever catch you trying to escape ever again, there’s going to be dire consequences. You’re not going to accidentally harm my child. Our child. Do I make myself clear?” his tone stern.

Your eyes fixated on his neatly polished shoes. You nodded and muttered a low “yes”.

He gripped your jaw and forced your head up. “If you disobey me I will have to chain you to the bed and I really want to avoid that. So be a good girl.”

Lyney

The purple cat-like eyes of the magician was narrowed in anger and hurt. He had just caught you as you had sneaked out of the house with bag packed with your clothes and necessities.

The living room was empty except from the two of you. His younger brother and sister were out on business.

The record player in the corner by the fireplace was playing the soft tune of a ballet he had taken you to when you first started dating.

Lyney was sitting in front of you on a red arm chair. He was resting his head on his arms. His gaze faced down as he thought on what to say to you.

The only thing that separated the two of you was the coffee table. Normally you would have taken you your time to clean it, but not today. Multiple cards were littered across it accompanied with some face flowers. The mess was surprisingly beautiful.

“I don’t understand how you could do something like that to me” his voice low. “I had it all sorted out. I have talked to Father and she has nothing against your pregnancy and our relationship. In fact she supports it. She knows how important family is after all.”

“But you had to try and ruin it. I really don’t understand” his violet eyes met yours. They were filled with more emotions than what you could possibly make out.

“Lynette and Freminet even said they can take care of the baby if the two of us have plans or need some time for ourselves. Yes, Freminet is still a teenager, but he’s still fit to look after a child. He often take care of the younger children in The House. And Lynette has always had a soft spot for baby’s” his voice was getting louder.

“You don’t get it do you, Lyney?”

“Get what exactly?” his eyes scanned your features for something.

“You’re a cruel man. You have locked my away just because you think it’s for the best. You haven’t even bothered to even ask me what I want!” your voice was getting louder and louder by each word that left your lips. “I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” you stood up form the couch. Your finger pointed at him. “You disgust me.”

His mouth fell open in disbelief. Crystal tears welled up in his eyes and he furiously tried to blink them away. “What?” his voice was weak by hurt. “I’m trying to protect you! Why don’t you understand?” tears were now falling from his eyes as he had fallen to his knees in front of you.

It was a pity full sight, but he couldn’t care less. “Family is what matter the most to me! And you! You are a part of my family now and so is our unborn child!”

You tried to step back, but his hand was tightly gripping your thigh.

A broken laughter escaped from his lips and a rose to his feet slowly. His eyes crazed as they met yours. “You’re clearly unfit for making your own decisions, but worry not. I will help you. And together we’re going to raise the sweetest little child one could ever dream of.”

His unhinged voice and manner sent chives down your spine and you could feel the imaginary cage that wrapped itself around you. You were trapped between the claws of the beast-like cat, with no escape.

Neuvillette

The entire nation of Fontaine were searching for you. You would be lying if you said you were surprised. The judge could be awfully convincing when he wanted to.

Since your escape it had been raining non stop. Heavy rain poured down from the sky undisturbed. The rocks on the forgotten path you had chosen were slippery, and you had to be careful.

In the distance, from the town you had a pasted hours prior, you could hear the loud voices of the search party they had organised. Hounds barked as they made their way up the mountain. You quickly picked up your pace.

After an hour or so walking through the rain you finally found a small abandoned cottage. You were filled with relief when you noticed that the door was unlocked.

It smelled of mould and you felt bad for your unborn, but you had no other choice. The windows were dirty, but intact. You slumped down on the old couch. Your body was aching and you were so tired.

You did not know how much time had passed when you awoke to the sound of a fist pounding the creaky old front door. You rose to your feet with such fast motion that you knocked your elbow against the wooden armrest of the couch. You hissed in pain and clutched it as you made your way to the hallway.

You hid behind the door to the bathroom as you peered out the window by the door. You couldn’t see anyone.

The pounding continued and you were afraid whoever it was would break down the door if this continued.

“Who is it?” you meekly asked.

The pounding came to an halt and a gruff voice answered you. “I am from the neighbouring village. We are looking for the Iudex’s wife.”

You were about to answer when the door broke down. A tall and sturdy man with a bear that reached below his collarbones entered. “I apologise miss, but I need to search the cotta-” his voice trailed off when his eyes fell upon you. His eyes widened to a state you were afraid they would roll out. He backed away slightly and shouted over his shoulder “I found her!”

You were about to silence him but it was too late.

The man who found you brought you out to the little courtyard. Your eyes widened in fear when a pair of pale lavender eyes stared back at you.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” your voice was shaky with fear. You tried to back away from the tall dragon, but the search party blocked your path of escape.

“How could I not personally participate in the search of my own wife?” Neuvillette’s voice soft. He turned to the villagers “Please give us some space.”

The villagers nodded and quickly left.

As you stood all alone with your capture on the overgrown courtyard you couldn’t help, but think about all the choices you had made that had lead you to this.

“Why did you leave our home?” his deep voice had normally brought you comfort, but now it only brought you fear.

“Why? Any sane person would escape a madman such as yourself. You have taken everything from me and you still ask for more” you spoke with sudden braveness.

“I am not taking anything from you. You’re clearly not completely aware at the moment. But worry not, I’ll take care of everything. Just like I always have” his lips twisted up into a gentle smile.

“Oh really? I don’t believe you. I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you! Why don’t you understand?!” you were suddenly in front of him. Your finger jammed against his broad chest.

“Your words hold little meaning, my love. It’s my child too, do not forget. I have every right to be apart of its life just as you do. And besides in a matter of time you will have forgotten your… conflicted feelings” his big hand gently wrapped itself around your much smaller one. “I will make you happy. Just you wait” he gently kissed the top of your head. His kiss similar to the gavel he used to seal the fate of the poor souls in the Opera Epiclese.

Wriothesley

The Fortress of Meropide never got any more welcoming, no matter how much time you had been there.

You had tried to climb the stairs up to the surface, but Wriothesley had been quick to drag you back down again.

He had been eerily silent as he led you to his private quarters.

“This is your fourth escape attempt this two weeks. Are you not getting tired?” he sighed. He was leaning against the kitchen table, his arms folded over his muscular chest.

“I understand the Fortress is not the best place to raise a kid, but I have bought a house close to the entrance on the surface. I have made the arrangements so that we can rotate where we both stay. I will of course always stay with you in the house. I know it’s not optimal, but it’s the best I can do.”

“It’s not enough” you muttered.

“We will have to make it work.”

“Why? I didn’t ask to be sent here. I don’t care about you and the Iudex agreement. I didn’t agree to any of this” you raised your voice.

“There’s many thing in life that I haven’t asked for. You will manage” Wriothesley’s voice was laced with uncharacteristic anger.

“I will not! I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” your loud voice echoed inside the kitchen.

At your words something in Wriothesley snapped. “A monster you say?” he barked out a laughter. “I have been nothing but kind to you. But if you think that makes me a monster, I wonder what you’ll think of me now” his eyes colder than his vision.

Wriothesley dragged you inside your bedroom. “You’re not going to leave this room before I say you can. I will use the spare bedroom” he pointed to the bathroom. “If you’re thirsty between meals, you know where to find water.” With that he slammed the door closed. The sound of his key twisting sent a pang through your chest.

Escape had never seemed so far out of reach as it was now. You found yourself longing for the outside and the smell of the wildflowers that littered the green meadows of Fontaine. Maybe the house Wriothesley had promised you on the surface didn’t sound so bad after all.

Own you

God!yandere x y/n

Summary: you try to run away from a God, but underestimate his power

Warnings: blood, mentions of needles and knives

Word count : 0.6k

[before we start, I want to say that this god has nothing to do with any religion, it's my own creation and only for fun! It is not meant to offend anyone♡]

How could you ever think that you could escape? Don't you know that he knows everything, sees everything? Your human legs carry you the quickest they can throughout the forest. You have no idea where you are or how you got here, but you knoe he has something to do with it. You remember being in his weird palace and opening a door and ... suddenly ending up here. Wherever this is.

You're barefoot. The ground hits you like lego under your feet. The strong wind tries pulling you back to him, but you refuse to succumb. You have to keep on going.

The wind starts going two ways, capturing you in the middle. Your hair flows around your face and vocers your vision. But you can't give up. You can't submit.

Snow starts falling from the cloudy sky. It's summer, it shouldn't snow. You know it's all his work. And it's a clever one this time. Knowing your clothes are way too thin to keep you warm in a blazing snowstorm keeps you from running. You close your arms around you and continue walking. The icy snowflakes clash against your bare skin like knives and needles. It's not a friendly snowstorm he's unleashed upon you. You want to scream in pain, but if you do, you'll get the sharp snowflakes in your mouth and risk cutting your throat.

After a few minutes of walking, you sink down on your knees in the snow. Your legs can't carry you anymore. Sobbing erupts from your throat. Your tears freeze on your cheeks. You look down and notice how your skin has gotten marks after the harsh snoflakes. What were they made of? Glass shards?

"Please stop!" you shout. "It hurts!"

You lay down with your face down and arms over your head to protect your eyes. You can't move anymore. It hurts too much and your body is too cold and weak. All you can do is cry in pain.

"Learned your lesson?"

You peak up and see the godly figure standing in the middle of the storm. He looks down at you, golden eyes scanning you. He kneels down and places his warm hand on your cheek, melting the frozen tears. You lift your cold, trembling hands and place them on his chest, needing warmth. He can regulate his body temperature to whatever you need. You can no longer feel your body.

He removes your hands. You try to protest, but nothing comes out of your mouth. It's like your voice has frozen too.

"You don't deserve my warmth until you've begged for forgivness and promise to never leave me again", the god says. "Do it."

"I-I'm sorry", you stutter and reach out for him again. "I'll n-never do it a-again!"

He tilts his hands and pick off a frozen tear from your cheek. he studis it and scoffs.

"How could you ever think that you could run away from me, human?" he asks. "I know everything there is to know. You didn't think I'd know where you were? You didn't think I'd find you? You belong to me, human and no one can keep you from me. I own this world and everything in it. I own you."

You start to lose your hearing. The god hugs you and lets you look for warmth in his arms. The snowstorm arounds you start to disappear and the summer warmth seeps back.

"Darling, look", the god whispers and nods up at the sky.

You look up and see a rainbow dancing across the blue sky. You can't help but gulp in adoration.

"I made it just for you", the man continues and kisses your temple. "I can give you everything. I can give you the stars. Literally. I will give you everything as long as you stay with me and never try this again. Now, let's go home, dearest. You need to rest."

Hi!! I really loved your recent post featuring yan!murderer seeing y/n with their child. If requests are still open, may you please write that same scenario but with yan!mean ceo instead?

yes ofc 🙌🏻🙌🏻

also kikuo is performing near me.. and i can't go im SO SAD GUYS..

you didn't understand how he got in. you haven't seen him in three years, yet, here he was.

"is that my son?" he almost sounded hurt. you knew it was an act though. "let me see him."

"he isn't yours." your voice was full of hatred. you held the toddler closer to your chest, as he babbled.

"i know he's mine." he stepped closer, as you stepped back. you didn't want him near you. "do you take me for a fool?"

you covered the toddlers face from nicholas, you couldn't let him see his face.

"get out." you tried so hard for your voice not to crack, but you felt so weak. "you- you don't deserve anything from me."

"it's really funny," he kept getting closer, eventually causing you to bump into a wall, leaving no room for escape. "you beg me to leave, yet you hold my child."

you hated how he referred to the toddler as his.

"i can easily take him from you, forever. so, if you want to see him, you should listen to me. okay?"

you couldn't say anything.

"he looks just like me, don't you agree? and you go on about how he isn't mine."

but you never showed him his face.

tw; yandere, noncon, not proofread.

Superhero! Yandere with a coworker darling in the same line of work. Sure you seem like equals in the eyes of the public but you both know that isn’t the case. Not when his word is law and yours is a suggestion to be kept in mind. He’s the country's golden boy, their sweetheart and yeah, you’re cute but you’re just eye candy.

Superhero! Yandere who knows this, even now as he speaks softly into your ears with a grip tight enough to shatter a normal person's wrist. Even as the public goes wild speculating on whether you are a couple or not.’ He just thinks you’d look adorable, in a frilly pink apron. None of this saving the world bullshit, not when he can handle it alone just fine.

Superhero! Yandere who corners you every chance he gets. Whether it’s in interviews talking about your relationship status or at parties after you’ve had one too many drinks. Lucky for you he doesn’t drink! He will take good care of you. You kick and scream a little, he was sure you’d be out cold by now but that’s just the issue with dealing with heroes. Any normal man would’ve been long dead by now, this is why you need him. No ordinary bastard would ever be able to handle you like he does.

Superhero! Yandere who ignores your pleas and instead gives you what you really need, a kid! Not just any kid, his kid. After all, the public love a caring father just as much as a shining bachelor, and it gives him reason enough to keep you contained in his home, of course he’s taken precautions to make sure you can’t escape. Good luck getting away now.

general yandere headcanons - ratio, boothill, aventurine, sunday

notes: gn! reader. yandere! ratio, boothill, aventurine, sunday [separate] cw: general yandere themes - obsessive & possessive behavior, stalking, abduction, manipulation, blackmail, brainwashing words: 2250 a/n: one of these is longer than the others. can you tell i have a favorite?

VERITAS believes genius comes in many forms, and you exhibit some traits that could qualify you as being one. Whether or not you're a scholar, your ability to listen intently, ponder things deeply, and uphold meaningful conversation captured his attention and landed you in his favor. He thinks highly of you, and finds himself eagerly awaiting the next time he can poke your brain about some complex topic you feel like you aren’t equipped to comment on, but do so anyway at his insistence.

His obsession with you isn't apparent at first, not even to him. He tells himself it's simply in a scholar's nature to learn more about the things that intrigue them, and you're not special just because he seeks out information on you wherever he can. His research ends up paying off when he finds out that you desire more than the quaint life you've made for yourself, and he personally extends you an invitation to Veritas Prime.

When you accept, he insists that you attend as many of his lectures as humanly possible. Even if it doesn't align with what you're studying, he convinces you to show up anyway, fabricating some argument for how it will be useful for you in the future. Normally he'd be irritated with himself for giving a lackluster lecture, but he can hardly blame himself for being distracted when he has your undivided attention for hours on end. He's addicted to it, the way your eyes lock with his, the way you hang on to every word leaving his mouth.

Not that any of this is obvious to you. No, from your perspective, he's harsh and critical, always undermining your intelligence by insisting you need additional lectures and overseeing your studies himself. Obviously, he doesn't put much faith in your competency and thinks you'll fail unless you're being handheld the entire way. He may not outright insult you the way he does with others, but his "special treatment" is enough to make you feel insecure in your own abilities.

And that insecurity is a weak point he unapologetically exploits. When he feels like he hasn't seen enough of you lately, all it takes is a few bad marks from him to have you at his side, seeking out guidance and ways to improve. The worst is when he catches you spending too much time (which is any time at all) with those insignificant simpletons you call your friends. Clearly, you have too much time on your hands. Certainly you can assist him with his latest project, no? Well, if you'd rather slack off and lose all the progress you've made so far, that's fine, too.

You'll never know what his true intentions are until he's already involved in or controlling every aspect of your life, and at that point, you can't risk upsetting him. Your future success is contingent on how content you can keep him, and in this new phase of your relationship, you hardly know how to do that.

Better get to researching.

Threat Level: 3/5 Pet Names: darling, dear/dearest

BOOTHILL loves to make you laugh— it's the thing that drew him to you. He'll do anything to keep your attention on him, not caring how much of a fool he looks so long as you keep those gorgeous eyes on him. But beneath all the flirtation and humor is a deep desperation; he can't lose you, not after everything he's already lost. He stays on your home planet for as long as he can, but he has things to take care of, so he can't stick around forever.

To be fair, he tries. He makes the first few trips alone, leaving you behind to live your life— and every minute is agony. He doesn't know what you're doing, who you're with, or if you're safe. He's glued to his phone, constantly checking the news to make sure no tragedy has struck your home planet or the cozy town you reside in. Every night he wakes up from a nightmare, the sounds of bombs ringing in his ears and the illusion of your corpse still hovering before his eyes.

The next time he visits you, he takes you. You're coming with him— you don't have a choice. He can't live without you by his side, but he can't stay in one place, either. You can fight him all you want, but he's relentless, and his fear builds up into a frustration that causes him to be a little harsh. You're weak, vulnerable, and you can't be expected to protect yourself, so he has to. When he calms down, he tries to convince you that it won't be so bad. You'll get to travel the endless galaxy with the man you'd been so taken with just a few days ago. What more could you ask for?

Trying to escape him is futile. He's probably the easiest one on this list to get away from, but don't let that get to your head: he'll be hot on your trail, so you better hope those few days away from him are worth it in the end.

But with time you'll learn there is some truth to his words; if you don't try to leave him and keep him happy, then maybe you can trick yourself into believing that this is a life you chose for yourself.

Threat Level: 3.5/5 Pet Names: beau, gorgeous, sugar

AVENTURINE is like a moth to a flame, and your capacity for intimacy is the match. You're the first person in recent memory who treats him as a person, not as a commodity or a body, a wallet or another cog in the machine. Your first interaction was fleeting, but it replays in his mind every time he closes his eyes.

He watches you for some time, learning you inside and out— partially to satisfy his desire to know more about you, but mostly for leverage. He memorizes your schedule and interests, and subpoenas documents to learn more sensitive information, such as your medical history and anything pertaining to your family. He remembers everyone you interact with, making note of who's on the sidelines and who's part of your inner circle. He sees the way you openly bare your heart to them, keeping them comforted by its warmth, and he wants it all for himself. Hasn't he been denied something so pure for long enough?

He's charming in the beginning, using one of his many masks to slither his way into your mind and heart. He showers you with compliments and gifts, leaving you flustered after every single meeting. He knows exactly what you like, so it's easy to keep you fixated on him.

When you two finally make things official, he lures you into the palm of his hand. Your rent unexpectedly went up? No worries, he can start covering that for you— it's no trouble for him, really. Someone important to you had an unexpected health issue and can't cover the bill? He's got it, anything to cause you less stress. Is he sure it's okay? Of course it is. He only wants to see you happy.

When your friends start dropping like flies and even your family starts to distance themselves for you, he's by your side through the turmoil. Fate has been so cruel to the both of you, hasn't it? It's okay, he's here for you. He's not going anywhere.

By the time you catch on to his manipulation and realize he's behind your isolation from your friends and family, it's too late. You're too dependent on him, and he knows everything about you and anyone still sticking by you. Do you dare bite the hand that feeds you? Will you try to escape? Can you afford to pay the price if it all goes wrong?

What will you wager to get yourself back in his good graces?

It’s unwise to try your luck against his. Play along, and perhaps he'll show you the face that you fell for.

Threat Level: 4/5 Pet Names: babe, doll, sweetheart

SUNDAY takes notice of you because of your carefree nature. Being so trapped in his own head about the fate of Penacony and humanity as a whole, he's captivated by the way you seem unconcerned with matters larger than yourself. While you do plan for the future and have aspirations of your own, you still manage to live in the moment and take things one day at a time, possessing a liveliness he's never quite seen before, never been allowed to have himself.

He knows about you long before you ever meet him. Nightingales line every path you walk, sticking to the shadows and noting everything about you: the places you frequent, the food you like, the type of clothes you buy, your colleagues, your route home, and the little habits you have that he finds so endearing.

When he finally appears before you, you're starstruck— how could you not be? The head of the Oak Family is seated beside you at Dreamjolt Holstery, making small talk about your day and your life and your interests when he could be speaking to any of the other high-profile guests at the bar. You're flustered from the honor of having his undivided attention, and the butterflies in your stomach only worsen when he asks if it would be possible to keep in contact with you. Of course, you give him your number, and your impromptu meeting turns into another, and from there, into more.

He's so earnest in his adoration for you that you never notice how off-putting it is that he seems to already know what you like. Surely it's just a coincidence that he takes you out to all your favorite places and gifts you things that you'd been spending months saving up to buy yourself. It's nothing more than fate that you seem to bump into him at the oddest of times, on your way back home from a night out on the town, or during the day while you're heading out to meet with one of your friends.

It's only when you agree to a relationship that you start to get concerned. Describing his behavior as "clingy" would be putting it lightly; he tries to have you by his side in any way he can, talking you into attending a party with him or asking you to sit in his office at his side while he gets through paperwork. When you go anywhere without him, he's ordering a member of the Bloodhound Family to accompany you. He seems so distressed at the mere thought of you not being by his side, nevermind the thought of you being out in public by yourself— it's not healthy for either of you. Before you can even think to voice your concerns to him, he's wrapping his arms around you and reminding you that he just worries about you. The Family has many enemies, and they would be willing to use you to get to him. He just wants to make sure you're safe.

When Robin goes missing, things take a turn for the worse. He moves you into Dewlight Pavilion, and you don't get a say in the matter. If he's home, you're by his side at all times. Anything you have to tend to at this point can be done from within the comfort of the estate, and in his presence. Even if he's not there, he might as well be; the nightingales and their pervasive gaze are out in the open now, watching as you aimlessly wander the pavilion, getting lost in the maze and growing a little more desperate each time you explore your new home. You move through the mansion with an urgency, like you're searching for something.

Like you're trying to leave.

When Sunday's suffocating protection inevitably gets to you and you try to confront him, he gives you one more chance to see things his way on your own. It's a miscalculation on his end; you snap again, only this time, you manage to find an exit. You make it back to Golden Hour, but by the time you get there, there's already a group of Bloodhounds waiting to catch you and drag you back.

When you're shoved into his office, he's standing with his back to you, hands clasped behind his back. You can hear the heartbreak, the betrayal in his voice as he tells you how hurt he is that you'd endanger yourself after everything he's done for you. Out of guilt or fear, you can't tell, but you apologize and swear to him that you won't do it again.

And you won't— he'll make sure of it. Under the light of the Harmony, all is revealed: his undying love for you, your reciprocation, and the strength of his will over yours. You see it now, don't you? Everything he does is for your wellbeing. Clipping your wings while you're on the ground is just a way to ensure you'll never fall out of the sky. You're safe here, in this gilded cage he's tailored your tastes, with a kind keeper to tend to your every need and shower you with all the affection your heart could ever desire. How could you fault him for that?

You can't. After all, you don’t even remember why you were upset with him in the first place.

Threat Level: 5/5 Pet Names: angel, dear/dearest, dove

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #03. CORPSE BRIDE

𐙚 topic。．when you turn down yandere hsr men’s proposals.

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。general yandere themes, suggestive content, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and boothill. sunday and aven are regular additions to my posts lol, wrote boothills less intense bc he’s too silly to imagine

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ ‘convinces’ you

。he will actually try to coax you into it. he doesn’t want to just force things onto you, that isn’t really what he wants 。“ill make you the happiest pretty bride, doll, just believe in me, hm?” 。continues to sweet talk you, telling you what he can do- buy you pretty dresses, give you anything you want, and he lists luxury after luxury. 。and he follows through his promises. even if you are being really disobedient, he’d still buy you more luxury than you could ever ask for. you will start questioning if you really don’t want this marriage- which is exactly what he wants you to do, to make you doubt yourself. 。his list goes on and on- a vip ticket to the Reverie, first row tickets to robin’s concerts, only the finest things that only his class of people could ever get their hands on. 。but in that list, he conveniently puts out ‘freedom.’ 。if you disagree, he’d pout, asking you why- and when you tell him you want to be free from him, he’d laugh, calling you a silly girl. 。“i already gave you a choice when we met. it was your choice to pick a card from an unknown pile.” 。he’d have the wedding commence in some really luxurious property of the ipc, and he will, invite your family over- he’s merciful. but is it mercy when you know you won’t see them ever again? 。“it would be a shame if they don’t see the happiest moment of your life.”

STANDING there with the most beautiful dress you could humanly ask for, your expression is nothing but a shell as Aventurine smiles at you through those shades. Your eyes are everywhere but on his eyes, when you stare at them, you feel like you’re losing yourself.

you are glad your gown came with a veil over your head, nobody can see your dead eyes, except him.

As the officiant goes on with the questions, you grip your bouquet a little harder to the point you feel their stems crumple, just like your shriveling heart.

You snap out of it after hearing silence- you see his expecting eyes on you and you nod blankly. “I do.”

And your husband smiles even wider, and he steps closer and slowly, while staring at you with uncomfortable adoration through those tantalizing purple eyes, he kisses you. You are expecting a tender kiss in a ceremony; but his gloved hand sneaks onto the back of your head, pulling you in hastily.

“I love you so fucking much, princess—” he breathes into you, brushing aside the saliva that trickles down your chin after his intrusion. “It took quite a while, but you’re finally all mine.” He pulls up your hand that has your forced vow on it, he chuckles and softly kisses your fingers.

“‘m gonna make you so happy, so ecstatic, that you’re gonna thank me for it, love. you will thank me that I restrained you from everything else.” he whispers, and the people clap, cheering; your family too, who smiles, knowing nothing that it would be your last reunion.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ breaks you

。he just takes it on another level (and does not find your struggles entertaining unlike the former) 。he will be, really heartbroken at first. the head of the oak family asking you to be his lifelong sweetheart is almost like him giving you his life. you are his entire world- and the world has rejected him. 。“…I see. was I not good enough for you, angel?” 。although his emotions will be very hard to control, he’s very used to commencing plans. he’d tell you that he could ‘talk this out’ with you. unfortunately, it’s not a choice, but rather, an order. 。sunday is a ‘the end justifies the means’ kind of person. he will do any means to make you eventually accept your fate. that will include imprisoning you in some faraway place and leaving you abandoned for so long, you will be broken, wishing for any interaction. food is only given to you through a remote device, with no human interaction. 。sunday itches to be with you- he is compassionate for you, his heart will ache to see you sob into an endless cacophony. a part of him will be tempted to go to you and be with you physically, not watching you from a screen. 。he will repeat it- he will visit once a blue moon, comforting you, asking you if you changed your mind. when you ask him when he’d release you, his expression will harden. 。“it seems you haven’t learned anything, sweetheart.” 。if you are still stubborn, he will be a little impatient. he will speed up the process by adding new things in- maybe making you dream of a lovely, free life and when you wake up, you’re just alone. he will not resort to anything violent, he cares too much about you to hurt you. although, ‘hurt’ in his dictionary doesn’t apply to mentally hurting you. 。you will sob and show your most dramatic, fragile sides to a descent of madness, thinking you are truly alone until sunday comes to visit. you are wrong, though- sunday has always been with you, just not physically. 。he has always been watching you cry into the void through a screen. always.

MAYBE you have finally lost your mind, because when Sunday comes to visit you and your dull prison, you collapse to your knees and immediately plead him.

“Please,” you sob, clutching his legs desperately- he doesn’t crouch, but looks down- almost like a god addressing its follower. Sunday is no god for you, but you beg like he is.

“Please what?” He looks at you, fingers brushing over your hands, tilting his head just the slightest. His golden eyes glitter in the dim light. He is waiting for only one answer, there is only one correct answer to his question.

But you do not give him the right one. “Please just let me go,” you break down. Your heart is throbbing from all the crying, vision blurry and your head is light with no energy to talk anymore.

His gentle, serene smile immediately warps into that of a cold one. “Try again?” His fingers grip your hands hard, warning you that his patience is running thin.

When you remain silent except for your sobs, he crouches down to stare at you on eye-level, boring holes into your fearful expression. Unlike his deadly gaze, his words are soft and flow out quickly like a river- albeit with a sigh of exasperation. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to stop this just because you beg.” His hand pushes yours against the floor to knock you down, figure towering over you as he leans in to whisper- “—although, they’re very pleasant to listen to.”

“Honestly, I don’t get why you are struggling right now. It’s so easier to accept your eventual fate. Unless, you do like to seek pain.”

His other hand goes over your stomach, then slides tantalizingly slow up your body- you shiver and tremble at each touch that is too foreign to you. Cold fingers cage your neck and you choke on your breath.

“I’m not planning on hurting you, angel.” His voice is still gentle, but his eyes are telling another story, they seem keen to hurt you again and again. “But I did say I’ll resort to other… methods. Since none of them seem to work, I suppose the only solution would be caging you with a baby.” When your eyes widen, he laughs dryly. “The look on your face tells me that you didn’t expect it. But you will be my loving wife, dear. You will not be able to run or reject me, not when your own child is at stake. It makes only more sense to… make you bear children. My children.”

As he watches you struggle under him, trying to breathe, he feels like he has entered ascension. Soon, one of your pretty fingers will have his ring, and very very soon, he will have his first child- the very thought of him makes him lose his mind. He so wishes to make you his, claim you inside, watch your pretty pussy gush out his cum while he’s pressing deep into your womb- but he also wishes to see a mini version of him, or you. He finds it too adorable to withstand. He will vow that his children will grow up pure and innocent.

“We will be the happiest family in the world,” he purrs. “And I’ll make sure of it.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིOOTHILL ⇢ will try to prove himself

。maybe a little similar to aven. but while the latter will materialistically give you things and spoil you around to convince you, boothill will more likely show himself off instead. 。“i can fudgin’ shoot an ipc lackey in the head from miles away, sugar- ya can’t see that ‘n any other guy.” 。he’ll try to show you his capability to protect you- which will likely end up in multiple people dying but as a galaxy ranger, he has morals, so he will probably use the ipc as his shooting dummies 。overall he’s sweet even if you reject his proposal- he will likely be furious, just not at you. 。oh lord but during the day you rejected him, be prepared for multiple news flashes of dead people across the street. the amount of emotion will be too much for his consciousness to restrain 。when you confront him, he’d apologize, albeit a little too nonchalant. 。“‘m sorry sweetie, got a lil outta hand last night.” 。per your wish, he won’t kill anyone who’s unrelated and innocent- but he’d still go on a killing spree in the ipc headquarters to the point you are blacklisted on their list because he would shout your name and rant why you didn’t accept him while he shoots his gun all around the place.

“BOOTHILL, what the hell are you doing?” You frown when he returns- even after rejecting his proposal, he drifts around you like a lost stray dog. And he is always covered in blood, looking furious- but when you talk, his expression simply melts away like butter to a grin that shows his sharp teeth.

“What do ya mean what I’m doin’? Makin’ sure nobody hurts you.” He snickers. He smells like metal, like he always does, but this time it’s overpowering, which lets you know what he’s been doing.

“I don’t need protection, Boothill. You can just leave me alone.”

You’re beyond annoyed at his clinginess. No matter how many times you reject him, he’d always come back, showing something new off to you, and half the time it wasn’t anything pleasant, but rather his list of crimes.

“Aww, don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He chuckles and flashes a grin and his other metal hand spontaneously pulls you into his embrace— you jump. When did his hand get there? “All I wanna do is to make sure my future wife is safe and sound. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“I told you, I’m not going to accept-“

“Ah ah! Wait and see, you will be, I promise. But don’t drag the chase a lil too long. Even I get impatient.” Something cold pressed against your forehead and you realize it’s his gun. When your expression turns aghast with fear, he barks an amused laugh.

“You scared of this? Nah, I’d never hurt ya. Won’t wanna turn your body into metal like mine.” Although he says this with a dark smirk, he doesn’t remove the gun. “The sooner you agree to it, the merciful I become. Ya don’t wanna see innocent guys die because of your stupidity, hm?”

following up on the "making y/n cry" ask, what would nicholas do if, after making y/n cry, they call in sick the next day. y/n deciding to just stay home & be depressed

YAN! MEAN CEO

a/n: ngl idek what to name stuff anymore you're just getting the oc name guys

tw: yandere, stalking.

it depends.

does he think you're off crying to his younger brother, saying how mean he is to you? or are you just home because you don't want to do work?

he asks the employees who work with you where you are when he can't see you, almost scoffing when he heard you took the day off because you didn't feel well.

you should've just sucked it up.

with his cameras that he definitely did not install in your home, he looks to see what you're doing, only to see you curled up in your bed with your blanket covering your whole body as you used your phone.

he nearly rolled his eyes till he heard sniffles coming from the screen, watching you wipe your tears with your arm.

he feels a little bit guilty, but there's no reason for him to show it to you.

you're just gonna have to learn to deal with it.

want more? send a request.

Helloo it's me, one of your fans!! I have come to answer your call for more requests 🫡

May I please request a headcanon/story of Nicholas and a reader who tried to escape, but is now trapped in his house? How would life be like for the reader?

Also, if you really want more primos open commissions im sure others would love to commission you hahahaha just kidding... unless??? 😳😳😳

you're really tempting me nwo yikes 😢😢 i might do it perchance!!! i really want navia .. C1 Kaveh isn't cutting it

"why would you even think of escaping? are you stupid? i always knew you were... unintelligent, but i never took you to be so slow. did you wish to die out there?"

expect to be constantly belittled! who are you to try and leave him? only dumb people try to leave him. are you dumb?

"you think i'm really gonna let you go alone?" he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "don't be so stupid. you lost all your rights when you decided to leave me."

he's constantly following you around the place, and for when he's at work, there's cameras everywhere. you think he wouldn't put a camera in that one corner? you're wrong.

"you want me to do that for you? maybe you should rethink what you just said to me again. maybe then, you'll realize how unbelievably stupid you sound right now."

he won't do anything fun for or with you. wanted to watch a new movie that's been released? you don't get to watch it for at least three months.

"oh, shut up! do you think i have the time to listen to your useless complaints? some people have something useful to do."

he can hardly tolerate you. thought he was rude and impatient before? he's at least, a minimum of a 100 times worse.

Hi!! I really loved your recent post featuring yan!murderer seeing y/n with their child. If requests are still open, may you please write that same scenario but with yan!mean ceo instead?

yes ofc 🙌🏻🙌🏻

also kikuo is performing near me.. and i can't go im SO SAD GUYS..

you didn't understand how he got in. you haven't seen him in three years, yet, here he was.

"is that my son?" he almost sounded hurt. you knew it was an act though. "let me see him."

"he isn't yours." your voice was full of hatred. you held the toddler closer to your chest, as he babbled.

"i know he's mine." he stepped closer, as you stepped back. you didn't want him near you. "do you take me for a fool?"

you covered the toddlers face from nicholas, you couldn't let him see his face.

"get out." you tried so hard for your voice not to crack, but you felt so weak. "you- you don't deserve anything from me."

"it's really funny," he kept getting closer, eventually causing you to bump into a wall, leaving no room for escape. "you beg me to leave, yet you hold my child."

you hated how he referred to the toddler as his.

"i can easily take him from you, forever. so, if you want to see him, you should listen to me. okay?"

you couldn't say anything.

"he looks just like me, don't you agree? and you go on about how he isn't mine."

but you never showed him his face.

Hi!! I was wondering if you could give a quick, less than 1 sentence on the specific reason(s) why Brigitte & each of her past lives (Clara, Fawn, Lydia, Zoe, Pepper, etc.) became a maid? Love your webcomic so much!

Thank you so much!

A majority of the maids that Bridgette was needed to support their families. Individually, below there are quite a few other reasons too (not in any particular order)!

Clara (left): Providing for her mother (her father died when she was young and her mother struggled with depression, making finding work difficult), independence, looking for prosperity in Teffrah

Fawn (right): Providing for herself, helping her lady and wanted to get away from her abusive mother

Lydia(left): Providing for very young cousins, who were orphaned. She was able to have them sent to a school to continue their studies.

Pepper(right): Providing for her daughter and husband.

Zoe(left): Forced into being a maid after being "adopted" by lady Belliana's family, but was actually a slave since Belliana didn't pay her. Stayed in the house because she had hope that Nasir (who became Belliana's bodyguard) and her would become friends again. But they didn't.

Bridgette (Current Life) (right): Provide for family who are first generation immigrants to Teffrah, and expand her bilingual skills

Brooke(left): Retired from being an assassin after being swindled out of her money, wanted less stressful work. So she got a new identity and became a maid. Unfortunately, she ended up with a serial killer viscountess as a boss.

Muriel(right): Forced to work as a child by her abusive aunt and uncle, who took all her wages. She wanted to escape poverty.

Final Unseen Maids:

Anna-Maria (Center): For a chance at upward mobility.

Damla ( Right): To take care of her sick brother.

Moon (Left): Was trained from birth to be a maid to a noble house. The very few maid lives of Bridgette (that she's vaguely aware of) that wasn't born in this world and is from another world outside of Teffrah. She was from a seinen manga and murdered the pervert isekai'd protagonist on the spot after she found out he was trying to raise her in order to "mold her into his perfect girl".

Hi! May I request some headcanons for the yandere emperor & a fire mage? Maybe a fire mage that works for him/the empire?

yandere!emperor x fire mage!reader

authors note: I would like to make this gender neutral if you don't mind :> I added some spicy scenes but not full on smut!

content warning ⚠️: dark content, yandere, murder, noncon/dubcon, kidnapping

let's set the scenario shall we? you first met the newly crowned emperor as the new fire mage of his empire

when he first laid his eyes on you, he thought you were the most loveliest being he has ever seen

he kept his eyes on you so intensely that he never looked at anyone inside that room besides you

his eyes tell a dangerous story, so you look away trying to focus on the words of your master introducing you and a few other mages to serve the empire

the emperor immediately approves and makes a request for his servants to escort all of you to your rooms

a week in the palace, the emperor always took time to visit the mages' chamber to check the latest updates on everyone's work but actually he's there just for you

he's always behind you, following almost breathing down your neck

he keeps asking so many questions you try to keep up with him as he is the emperor

everyday, despite his duties he always manages to find time to see you even during your times of relaxation

he's very possessive and obsessive, he found out your schedule through his spies and every person you interact with your daily life

if someone ever gave a hint of interest with you small or big, it doesn't matter because that person will be declared dead the next day

it worries you what has been happening around you, you later confided with the emperor who has now become a sort of companion to you despite his presence by your side making you isolate yourself from everyone else

his eyes had a glint but his words were full of reassurance that no harm will ever come in your way, just continue being his little mage and he will secure you for life

you did as you were told so, you were often called to be by his side to the point you couldn't even work properly due to the amount of time spent with him

he loves to see you perform your magic infront of him, always watching with a fascinated grin

he indulges you and your fixation towards your experiments and he always gave you the latest gadgets and things that would help you improve

he also moved your chambers right next to his without your permission, despite your protests he says it's for your safety and so you will no longer walk far from his own

he makes it very clear for everyone that you are untouchable

as your relationship progresses his actions became a little more... Intimate

you found his hand lingering with whatever skin he could find or brush his hands on it

he also has a thing with pressing your back to his chest

you would not resist fearing for his anger when he gets too close for your comfort then he breathes you in like a drug

he took a liking to showing you as you were his spouse by making you stand beside him at balls earning the stink eyes of the nobles and whispers

it would definitely reach to him and immediately that person is either dead or fallen from nobility

one of the mages bitterly expressed the obvious favoritism towards you and the next day they were found dead

you grew cold when you found out, it's no denying who's the cause behind the deaths that has been circulating

however you are not a fool and you kept your mouth shut despite the urgency to run away because you no longer felt safe

the emperor could sense your anxiety and he knew it's only a matter of time he has to make extreme actions to keep you by his side

despite your magic he is still smarter than you

you thoroughly made a plan on how to escape the capital and yet to no avail you found yourself cornered by his men

you used your magic against all of them defeating some but they did not relent and still decided to pursue you

you felt something hit you and you fell unconscious

when you wake up, you are in a extremely dark place only wearing a thin robe with shackles around your wrists and ankles making you immobilized

your struggle echos and soon the door opens with the emperor coming in with a dim expression on his face he sits infront of you and tries to brush your face but you turn away

you beg him to let you go and stop the madness but your begging only spurned him on

"you think you could run away from me my love? I am not the emperor for nothing dear. you should never underestimate me. ever. again." he says with a growl his expression almost looks manic

it scares you what he has turned into

he gets on top of you and you try to kick him away

"tsk tsk, stop being defiant now obey your emperor and submit. I will guarantee you everything you want if you obey me."

he places his hand around your throat to stop the flow of oxygen and slowly your movement ceased then he let go

he gets closer to your face and licks the tears streaming down your eyes, his hands untying the thin robe covering your body

your nakedness makes your vulnerability even worse as your stomach fills with dread with what is about to come

his hands rub and grope your skin making you nauseous with his actions

he breathes raggedly almost salivating at the thought of consuming you whole

you cry out more

"If you don't stop from being naughty, I guess I have to go with the rough way."

okay this is kinda meh I'm sorry 😞

Hi, can i ask for yandere prince with a childhood friend maid

yandere!prince x childhood friend!maid!reader (smut 18+)

cw: dark content, murder, unhealthy relationships, violence, stalking, non-con (non-consensual) content, virginity loss, blood, kidnapping

you and the prince were exactly at the same age that makes the both of you inseparable despite the queen's concern with her son being too close to a peasant luckily the king did not mind especially when he saw how cheerful his son is whenever you're around

you both did different kinds of mischief together causing headache to everyone in the palace

it's always been you and him together sneaking through secret passageways to escape his lessons and you escaping from your worried mother

years passed by his affections slowly became an obsession

there is not a moment that you are away from him, he constantly needs you by his side

as he grows up to be a fine prince and you a young woman, everyone decided that you two should no longer be allowed alone by yourselves especially how you two are unmarried

it would be a tarnish to the royal family's reputation if you were always seen by the young prince's side

despite the order coming from his mother the prince did not listen and it did affect the two of you but he didn't care

everyone majorly criticized you saying how you don't deserve him and how you are aiming for the crown and it hurts

so you distance yourself from your dear friend

bad idea because as soon as you avoided him

he caused chaos and panic when he suddenly became irritable and snappy

he even punished a bunch of servants because they displeased him

you think it will pass but it got even worse to the point he got into a fight with a viscount to defend you

he beat the man into black and blue then fell unconscious and the guards had to restrain him from the feral look at his face

his erratic breathing as he feels adrenaline rushing through him

his eyes lands on yours and you felt a shiver as he flashes you a grin

the man was later declared dead from the bruises that he received from the prince

no one could ever change their opinion on their prince

his reputation was tarnished, the royal family had to take measures to ease the public

he was berated by his mother who's words he only shrugged off

his world stopped when the word 'betrothal' left the queen's lips

he began to protest saying he wouldn't dare marry another woman if it wasn't you

the queen and the prince argument rang through the room allowing any passerby to hear the rumours

the word then began to spread that he is to be wed and his obsession about you

you slowly felt unsafe with the stares and whispers but you had to endure it for the sake of your livelihood

you continued to ignore him but the prince manages to follow you around, watching you do chores and interactions

what you don't know is that he often sneaks into the maid's quarters to stare at your slumbering figure

he would caress your skin and hair then kiss you

he had to restrain himself from his thoughts to completely devour you

his stalking continues until he saw another man showing interest towards you with no regards to the circulating rumours about his obsession over you

he watched with rage filling him as he saw how you return the man's affections

he clenches his fist as he kept repeating in his head that you're all his

the prince meets his fiancee, the poor girl couldn't even capture his attention

his nonchalance brought tears to her eyes as she watches him look over you, a maid who's being courted by a knight

sometime later, your engagement to the knight was announced

people are congratulating you with the prince's intentions darkening every second

if he can't make you look at him again, he will have to resort to more... forceful measures

so he found you alone one night, cornering you

you struggle within his grasp as he looks at you crazily

burying his face into your hair, inhaling your scent

"mmmm.. I fucking missed you so much. don't you miss me my girl?"

you whine and plead for him to let him go but it only spurs him on as he tightens his grip around you

"you're only mine, you hear me? Mine."

you shiver as his voice drips with danger

he tells you how's he's gonna change for you if you take him back

but you try to reason with him saying you two are already betrothed

he doesn't give a fuck and forcibly kisses you

his kisses were so rough you tried to bite him which made his lips bleed red

he chuckles and grows even more determined

"oh how wrong of you to do that foolish girl, I want to be gentle with you but I guess you want it rough."

your eyes widen and shake your head no as he carries you to a nearby room

you cry as he strips you naked, exposing your body to the cold air

he licks his lips as he unbuckles his pants

he grabs his hard cock dripping with pre

the prince pulls you towards him but you scramble away in a futile attempt

he's much stronger so he looks at you manically while you cry with fear from what he is about to do

he smiles down as he spreads your cunny open cooing how he's going to take your virginity

you keep screaming "no!" and beat his chest which angers him

he aligns his tip with your entrance then plunges without warning

you wail with pain as he does not allow you a second to accomodate to his size

he continues to take you as you cry from the pain and the situation

he only leans down to silence your crying

the prince looks down to see blood and slick coating his cock

he coos at how well you're taking him while you lay there crying and thrashing around as he fucks you against your will

he later makes you cum which renders you motionless and he soon follows after

you keep crying and pass out with exhaustion taking over you

he only grins as he kisses you softly before carrying you away to a secret place

he lays your body down into a soft bed and cleans you

he chains your wrists and legs into the bed so you won't be able to escape him

he kisses you one last time before tucking you in

the prince looks back lovingly before leaving the room

the room is hidden away inside the castle and no one has any access to it except him

the moment you wake up, you thought that what happened to you was only a nightmare until you see the chains around you and an unfamiliar room

the prince enters holding a tray of food and only smiles as he approaches you

you try to get away but he only pulls you towards him kissing you like a lover would

"now no once can take you away from me, ever."

a/n: I made it even darker, I hope you don't mind!