Violetvase - My Trash Pile

Thank you so much for accepting my commission request! This story was so perfect!

My first commission! Thank you @violetvase !

description: yandere mean prince x fem reader, reader sneaking out, arrange marriage with the prince, manipulation, toxicity, stuff like that, escaping the castle to have some fun, getting caught, being punished

Your heart raced, more than ever before. It pounded, desperate for a minute of relaxation as you hid your face from passing butlers and maids. You were excited, scared even, you had never attempted to sneak out from the kingdom.

Yeah, you imagined running away and never coming back but you knew it would never work out. Sneaking out was just as risky, what if Xavier thought you were trying to leave forever?

You shook your head, it didn’t matter what he thought. It only mattered that you needed a little bit of fun once in awhile. You were sure that this would satisfy your boredom for a long time.

You held onto the hood of the cape you wore, making sure nobody could recognize your face. You planned to sneak out as a regular maid, even dressed up as one. The sun was setting, but that didn’t mean you still couldn’t have fun.

You witnessed maids getting up on a regular carriage, ready to go and collect ingredients for tonight’s supper. You were nervous that this wouldn’t work, that you wouldn’t get away with it and you’d be caught.

You shoved the immense feelings of fear and worry down, as much as you could.

“Hm? Hello! Are you on the way to town as well?” A maid chirped, curious to why you looked a little sick.

“Mhm! I’ve been meaning to make a trip for supplies, the garden has been getting out of hand” You chuckled awkwardly, hoping you’d get away with the idea of being a maid that oversees the large garden.

“Ah! Katherine right? I’ve never seen you until now, I’ve seen the work you’ve done and it’s honestly admirable! Here come sit” The maid welcomed you with open arms, patting the seat next to her while the other two chatted from across the carriage.

You and the maid chatted the whole way to town, you thought it would be insufferable and nerve wracking but the way she fondly spoke of her kids and working in the palace brightened up your views on the kingdom. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought if this mother was enjoying her time working here.

“I’ll see you later, Annie! I hope you can find all the ingredients for supper!” You waved to her, saying goodbye with a genuine smile on her face. You couldn’t believe it worked, and you secretly hoped you would see more of Annie once you were back in the palace.

She was very kind, and so were the other maids.

You wandered the busy roadways that held many shops on each side, the crowds were never ending and it was honestly freeing rather than suffocating.

You were so happy you made it all the way down here. It reminded you of your home, the same town you’d visit everyday after you finished your duties in the castle you lived in. Every citizen adored you and treated you like an old friend. It wasn’t the same here but it was a good replica of it!

“One soup for the lady?” A chef with a friendly grin said, observing how you practically drooled at the menu.

“Ah, I’m not sure if I should get it, will it be more savory or salty?” You concentrated on the dish, you weren’t sure if the soup was going to be good or not, it was probably going to be better than the food in the castle though. Anything homemade with love could beat any professional chef in the kitchen.

“More of a savory dish! Lots of meat and vegetables if you’re worried about keeping your figure” He already wrote down the order, knowing you’d be up for it with the glint in your eyes.

“Sure then! One of those please!” You happily dug into your small pouch for some coins. You had taken a normal amount incase you wanted any souvenirs from the town. You gave the proper amount to him, sitting down afterwards while you waited for your dish.

Once the chef placed the steaming bowl in-front of you, you were so excited to dig in! You collected some broth along with meat and a vegetable in your spoon and scarfed it down. It was delicious, especially with the hot temperature it held.

You were so happy with how everything was going, nothing could spoil the mood for you!

“Search the perimeter over there! I’m going to check every god damn store and look for her myself” Xavier’s booming deep voice urged every guard to search where he pointed. They rushed with formality but you could tell they were moving with fear as well.

Fuck fuck fuck!

What was he doing here? And how did he manage to find out that you were already gone! You said you were sick and that you didn’t want any visitors! Even him!

You focused on the half empty dish, trying to keep your head down while frenzied thoughts ran through your head. What were you supposed to do now? Sneak away when the guards were gone? Run off before he started searching the stores?

You hadn’t really made a plan for sneaking back into the kingdom other than getting the ride back from the maids but that wasn’t until another 30 minutes! And they were probably sent home early so nobody would be leaving in or out of the castle.

You knew the procedures to searches like these, it happened when your little brother snuck off somewhere just like you were doing now.

How foolish you were for thinking you could get away with this.

“Hello ma’am, have you happened to see this woman?” Your husband asked you, almost slamming the picture down with a worried expression on his face. One that you couldn’t see as you focused on the table and picture below.

“Nope, sorry” You mumbled, trying to change your voice a bit with a raspy sound to it. You prayed, you don’t know who or what you prayed to but you prayed long and hard that he would fuck off and interrogate someone else.

“Are you sure? She’s my wife and we’ve been looking everywh—“ His sentence was cut off by seeing your delicate hand, more importantly a ring on it. YOUR wedding ring. The one he bought along with the matching one that paired the two of you together until death.

“Where did you get this hmm?“ He roughly grabbed your hand, raising it in front of your face. You instinctively looked up to see his boiling rage that covered his face. You opened your mouth to respond but nothing could interrupt the quick words that came from out his mouth.

“We’re going home, NOW” His voice only scared you further than it already did. The grasp on your wrist hurt, it stung so bad you couldn’t help but complain and whine until he looked at you with a expression that shut you up without needing any clarification.

Once you were back home, he pushed you onto the bed, pacing around in anger, maybe worry? He hadn’t let any maids or butlers stay in the room so you assumed that you were in for it this time.

“Are you crazy? Delusional? Or just an idiot?” Xavier’s husky voice made you look down at the floor, you could see from his shoes that he was standing right in-front of you instead of moving back and forth.

“I just wanted to have some fun! I wasn’t trying to escape or anything..” You mumbled with a soft voice, trying to gain pity by seeming more docile than usual. Part of it being because he looked incredibly intimidating when he was yelling.

“Some fun? What fun could you possibly be having down there? You’re a princess, you need to start acting like one” He rubbed his temple, looking stressed.

You opened your mouth to make a response but he interrupted you before you could.

“You have no duties, you have nothing to worry about, yet you selfishly run to the village because you’re bored?? Do you see how irresponsible you look! What if nobles and other kingdoms heard of this? What did you think was going to happen then?”

You looked up at him with sorrowful eyes, genuinely upset that he was scolding you just because you wanted to escape the boring cycle of this kingdom.

“You had one rule to follow, one rule, to sit pretty and be a good wife and you couldn’t even do that” He scoffed, finally finished with his scolding. “I hope you realize how foolish this was” And with that, he walked off, slamming your room door behind him.

You couldn’t help but anxiously wonder about what your punishment would be. Would your parents get in trouble for your actions? Would you be forced to apologize until Xavier decided that you learned your lesson?

Even worse, nothing happened.

Nobody spoke to you, nobody dared to even stare at you. You were so confused on why none of the maid’s returned your kind words back. You would thank them, complimenting them like always and they’d usually chat with you back with nice replies.

But they didn’t say a word, neither did the guards you tried interacting with. If you tried asking how they were doing and what post they were shifting to next, they’d look away, almost scared to death to about something. Yet they would still establish that you could not leave your room by standing in front of your door.

You knew by then, it was probably his doing.

You realized that Xavier was likely punishing you by not allowing anyone to speak to you, even himself, but how could this possibly get to you?

You’d get along just fine! You didn’t need those idiots anyways, stupidly following his orders as if you weren’t a royal too!

But as the weeks passed, a weird feeling in the deepest part of your stomach only grew. You craved for someone to speak to, some sort of interaction yet nobody would grant you that. No matter how hard you tried.

You finally snapped at the fourth week of being isolated in your room, it hurt so bad. You just wanted someone to talk to, and the only choice was Xavier.

You asked for a maid to bring him, saying it was urgent and that you needed your husband to come to your room now. It’s not like you could leave to meet him anyways, the guards outside prevented you.

Once he arrived, you clung onto him, begging for him to forgive you.

“I’m sorry! I won’t try to sneak out ever again!! Just please, talk to me” Tears flooded your eyes before running down your cheeks. You sobbed holding him tightly by his shirt until he reciprocated the hug back.

“It’s okay my love, let it out.. You see why I had to punish you now? This is why you should listen to me, I didn’t want to do this after-all” He spoke with a sweet tone, still with a hint of superiority.

You nodded quickly, holding onto him tightly. You knew it was pathetic to be crying in his arms like this, but you had to if you wanted your boring life back.

He soothed you with all the kind words he could think of while brushing your hair out of your face. He knew this would work, and now that it did, he would use this as your punishment every-time you thought of leaving or escaping again.

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.

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

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Hello! I hope that you are having a fantastic day 😊 May I please request some headcanons of what would yandere gov official do if his darling managed to successfully escape to another country?

ily violet

and government official would be delusional. initially he just thinks it's a cute little joke you're playing on him. oh? haha you're so cute!

but then you don't show up. you're gone. and he starts to panic. where did you go? are you still in the country? because he can't do much if you're out of the country yk?

he'll go insane, spending every waking moment trying to find you. oh... so you're gone gone. don't worry, he'll get you back... one way or another... he didn't waste half his life building connections with the Mafia and underground connections just for you to slip away from his hands like that.

and when you're finally safe and back in his arms, best be assured that you're never seeing the light of day again :3

No because back in the late 2000's kids my age would literally talk about destroying the Middle East like it was some video game 🥴

I was wondering, how would your OC react if the reader disappeared? Like, one day she has a revelation, thinks "you know what, none of this is worth my time", packs up her bags and moves away without a word or a peep.

depends on which one you mean.

the king, hero, fae, and priest have you on lock down. pack your bags? to go where? back to the cellar/dungeon/room they're prepared to lock you in the moment you step out of line?

good luck.

hacker and eve haven't been discovered yet, but if you were to try and move, they would intercept any opportunity of a normal life by cancelling your job interviews, emptying your bank account, renewing your lease, anything to give them enough time to figure out a way to force you to stay permanently.

and you've already tried to pack your bags and move to another place after you started receiving those strange gifts from your stalker. no matter where you go, he always seems to find you. always manages to get in no matter how many times you change the locks on your doors.

our serial killer's methods might get a little bloody so if you can find a way to travel without your limbs more power to you.

expect your fan to be devastated, but he's no stranger to traveling to come to meet you where you are. he's gone to every single one of your concerts since your debut after all. it would just take a little digging on your social media and considering your level of stardom, it would be pretty hard for you to disappear anyway.

there is no escaping from our incubus yan. he is in your subconscious rent free and he is there to stay.

our telepath would see your escape coming from a mile away and the night you pack your bags, attempting to be sneaky, he'd smile and let you think you'd won before unpacking your bags the minute the sleeping pills kicked in from the food he'd cooked that night.

and where are you going to go when you already live in the poorest neighborhood your city has? getting free protection from our resident cyborg is like winning the lottery and you'd be insane to pass it up.

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.

me and @violetvase

my favourite follower 💯💯 i love u and your seasonal commissions😭🙏 ur a real one violet

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 😞

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?꧂