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#yandere amethyst
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Yo what if S/O was telling there lovers? That she has the cutest pet ever saying it’s name Is chain, and when there lover walks through the door.
This is there pet
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I made him in Picrew https://picrew.me/image_maker/1270220 credit to the creator
How would Pearl,Steven,Sadie,Connie,Lars,amethyst react?
can this be a serious ask to
sorry this came so late
Pearl:oh... you have a dog its not one of those ones that shed everywhere right? ok then lets see it...*horrified pearl noise.mp3*
Steven: Awwww i love dogs; well i mean i love all animals but especilly dogs there so cute with there little noses... well what are you waiting for bring him in...Awwwww. What do you mean this isnt a normal reaction it just a normal dog
sadie: Oh can you bring your dog in? sure no problem. Oh an by the way what KIND OF DOG IS THAT!
Lars:
Amethyst: bro i dont care if its "Not a normal dog" just show me already... Dude... thats gotta be the coolest dog ive ever seen
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merakiui · 11 months
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Oooh now that we are talking about mangakas, what about a TWST boy who writes novels under a pseudonym. They are essentially erotic thrillers and your friends always joke that the main love interest is very similar to you. Of course, there’s lots of people who live alone in a dingy apartment and work as a barista, but the similarities don’t stop there. The love interest has a similar personality and appearance with you. (1/2)
(2/2) what is most eerie is that they share a particular mark on your skin that ppl wouldn’t see when you have your clothes on, your preferred sleeping position, even the exact type of laundry detergent you use. Sometimes you wonder if all of this is truly just a weird coincidence…Also! I’ve sent so many concepts and asks recently (I think some might have gotten eaten by tumblr 😞) so could I be 🌸anon? (If there isn’t one already)
Oh no, I just checked to it anon list and there already is a 🌸 anon 😞 Hmmm, could I be Amethyst anon instead?
- - -
OOOOO THIS CONCEPT WITH ROLLO........ imagine he's taken a dozen pictures of you so that he can better describe you in his novels. Memory isn't nearly as helpful as photographs. They're all pinned on a board above his desk, each one taken at various times and days. Sometimes you're fully clothed and sitting on a park bench reading. Other times you're making the commute home from your barista job. A lot of the photos are taken at covert angles, and some of them even depict you naked or getting dressed. Rollo treasures these the most. Not only do they help him write better sex scenes with you, they're also very nice to look at (and masturbate to, but that's neither here nor there).
Omg and maybe for his next upcoming novel he intends to kidnap you so he'll be able to better portray the dynamic between the kidnapper and the kidnapped. >:) aaaaaaa and he's so good at writing creepy, erotic thrillers. So many people enjoy his work, but Rollo's only doing it to sate his own desires so he won't act rashly or criminally. But it's so difficult to peer in on your life and not be part of it. :( he wants to touch you for real instead of penning such a desire on the page.
(And you may absolutely be amethyst anon!!! :D I look forward to seeing you in my inbox. <3 hopefully tumblr won't eat more of your asks and that they will always send through!!!)
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About the sub!yandere chan thing.....
What if a little twist is added onto it? Like chan having split personality disorder or something like that. Because it seems that he is 2 entirely different people from when he's being your lovey dovey innocent baby... And then being a possessive obsessive murder that wants your attention only on him. You don't have to, but I just feel like it will be nice to add if it would make sense to you, idk 😅
his one side, so possessive, so paranoid and obsessive.
wanting, needing all of you, all of your attention, your affection. everything and anything you can give, he wants it all to himself.
no one else.
willing to go to drastic measures to ensure that he's the only one that has you. that craves one day you'll find about said 'drastic measures' and make him regret ever doing them
and then the other side, so adorable, so sweet.
the one that will do anything to make you happy, so gentle and willing,
pouting lightly when you talk to someone else but finding one way or another to get it back on him, normally in the form of whining and puppy dog eyes
apologizing to you after for ruining your conversation, buying you flowers and chocolates on the way home as compensation
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obsessivevoidkitten · 9 months
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Between A Rock And A Hard Place
Male Yandere Human-like Golem x Gender Neutral Human Reader (CW: Noncon, huge dick, golem man, magic, fatal violence towards bandits, spit used as lube, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry this took forever, was originally going to be a drabble and then kinda got away from me, hope you all enjoy huge dick golem man.)
The small town that you lived in, Somnheim, had been victim to a swathe of horrible luck. Raided by bandits, packs of beasts killing livestock, and enemy soldiers scavenging what they could. Finally the town had enough and sent for a practitioner of the magic arts to aid them in the defense of their village.
This was you.
They didn’t have much but they offered a home and food for your services. You figured you could help them and have a quiet place to conduct your research away from the prying eyes of the council, who liked to hold newer mages under their thumb. It would also just be something nice you could do for your fellow humans, and these folks clearly needed the help.
You didn’t want to stay in this place forever though, so your solution would have to be one that would last long after you were gone.
Given your expertise in summoning and animating the logical choice was a good, old fashioned, golem. A pentagram, some select incense, clay flesh molded to a slate skeleton and imbued with an amethyst heart carrying an artificial soul, some runes carved in, and a scroll inserted that would have him follow his purpose and give him personality.
Then just add in a spell that turned the humanoid clay man into something more human so as not to frighten the villagers too badly and make him able to experience a near human existence.
The ritual was a complete success. Of course it was. You were you after all, young but talented and more importantly utterly dedicated to your craft.
Somnheim now had a mighty protector. An artificial man over 9 feet tall, with huge bulging muscles, shaggy brown hair, stoic brown eyes that gave nothing away, and glowing green runes on his arms and legs. The spell that made him human-like was more than just visual, it gave him nearly all the functions of a human male, he’d be as durable and strong as the hardest metal, never age, and of course he was certainly infertile.
Not one for creative names, you named him Slate.
Eventually bandits came by and decided they would stock up in Somnheim before going on to bigger and better loot.
They did not live to regret that decision.
Slate simply rolled a massive boulder down the hill they approached from and flattened all but a couple. Those he took care of quickly with magically precise throws of average sized stones.
Over the months any threat he couldn’t flatten with a boulder or smack with a stone he would pop open with his mighty fists.
By the end of his first year as the village’s guardian he was beloved by every single townsperson. Even the tiny children, who would climb on him and put flowers in his shaggy hair as he smiled and watched, had no fear of him.
You had enjoyed your time there, but eventually it was time for a change of scenery. You wanted to do more field research and you had saved enough money up with side projects to be able to fund a trip to the other side of the country near The Great Forest.
The villagers were grateful and sad to see you go, but they were much more interested in Slate than you.
But when you packed your bags to leave behind your wattle and daub dwelling once and for all you found yourself blocked by Slate.
He uttered one word in that deep, almost monotone, voice of his.
“No.”
“What do you mean no? I have to leave.” You tried to squeeze past him but he was not having it.
“I must protect the village… Your presence here makes the village safer… I might need repairs… or reinforcements… And you also tasked me with keeping you safe…”
You fudged the wording. You, breather of life into stone, weaver of clay, and creator of souls, messed up the wording.
He picked you up like a box of luggage and sat you on a chair in your makeshift study before going over to the heaviest bookshelf, picking it up, and placing it in front of the only door so you couldn’t escape.
“I’ll move it when I need to leave… then I will put a rock outside to keep you here…”
And that became your life. A literal prisoner in your own home.
Your magical abilities were useless in this situation, you were not a battlemage that could explode a wall, you couldn’t teleport, you bent earth.
Of course you tried to tunnel your way out by making a hole under your bed, but Slate had walked in and caught you red handed. He had confiscated and locked away all your magical supplies and texts unless you needed them to repair him you were not getting them back.
Slate was tentative enough of your physical needs, bringing you food and water and taking you outside like some sort of pet for sunlight, fresh air, and exercise. You had tried to run away but of course he had inhuman speed. And the villagers refused to help. What if Slate refused to save them if they did that?
It was a fair concern, he was made to protect the village and not villagers, he may even see them as a threat if they assisted you. You were on your own.
Though you were healthy enough physically your mental condition was deteriorating rapidly. How could you not be? Being trapped in the same building, even with trips outside, was awful. The villagers only looked at you with pity if they looked at you at all, and no one would even talk to you anymore.
It got to the point where you barely eat, refused to go outside, and spent all your time laying in bed.
Slate was failing the magical directives that governed his personality and behavior. You were clearly not safe, he was convinced that you would die if this continued, and honestly you likely would… eventually…
But the golem was not incapable of learning. He observed the other humans to find out what he could add to your life to bring you back to your usual self.
One night, when he was sitting in front of the house watching the humans passing by and holding hands, he came to the conclusion that humans had families, they lived together in their dwellings and they loved each other. They coupled together and mated.
Up until this point Slate had only been directed by simple emotion and the unyielding parchment that had imbued him with his goals. But now his task demanded something more of him, it demanded a much more complex emotion. The magic in him allowed this evolution, and now he was much more dangerous because he loved you. But it wasn’t just love he felt for the first time, it was lust.
Slate’s expression became one of someone thinking about the one who they adored infinitely, an expression of a man thinking about the person he wanted to have writhing in pleasure beneath him, even his normally green runes and brown eyes took on an amorous pink glow.
When you heard the boulder blocking the door shift and then heard the bookshelf take its place as what was blocking your way out as Slate came lumbering in with his heavy steps you didn’t even glance up.
Not until he stood in front of you and you noticed his strange pink glow replacing his green one did you stir.
You sat up in bed and when you saw the strange way his normally near emotionless eyes were staring at you, and glowing, you scooted away.
“I know what you need now! I am so sorry for not realizing sooner…” He said in a surprisingly soothing tone, a stark departure from his normally deep monotone.
“What do yo-”
Your words were forgotten as he took off his shirt and pants revealing a sweaty body and a frighteningly large cock.
“You need a partner to be happy, like the other humans, and you need to mate!”
He sounded very eager.
“No! Uh… I don’t need to… mate. I need to lea-” he put a large finger over your lips and shushed you before gripping your pants and peeling them and your underwear away from you carefully.
There was no dissuading him from his chosen course of action, he would make you happy and keep you safe no matter what!
It’s what you needed.
Slate leaned forward and spit all over your hole, thoroughly lubing it with his spit, before pressing his big cock into your hole.
It was so large that you let out a whimper of pain at first, but he was somehow knowledgeable enough about sex to know he needed to let you adjust to the size rather than just ramming himself in.
You gasped and writhed but he held you still with his massive hands running up and down your sides as he slowly pulled you down on his prick.
Slate was in complete heaven, he had never really known much pleasure of any kind, let alone the type that came with burying his cock in someone he was now completely obsessed with.
He had no idea his dick could be used for this at all, but now that he did he would certainly be doing this everyday, maybe even a couple times a day! The perfect blend of heat and softness was amazing.
As he began to thrust slowly, with a blissed out expression as he stared up at nothing with drool coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as his cock caressed your depths perfectly.
Hearing your breathy moans snapped him back to reality. You were finally happy again~
The treatment was working! That settled it, he would do this every single day no matter what!
Carefully gripping your sides a bit more firmly he moved your entire body back and forth on his cock. You couldn’t help it, your whole body twitched with the force of a massive orgasm. The sensation of your body spasming around his previously virgin dick caused him to slam in deep and cum hard.
He pulled you close, holding your head into his muscular chest as he panted, his dick still firmly impaling your limp body. You hadn’t been eating much and this serious fucking had taken a lot out of you.
Slate cleaned the two of you up, bathing you gently before taking advantage of your compliant state by spoon feeding you some dinner he had brought from a town person.
Mating with you made you so pleasured and too tired to resist him when he took care of you, he almost couldn’t wait until you had enough energy to do it again, his cock strained in his pants with anticipation.
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harmonysanreads · 9 months
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Idée Fixe
yandere!lyney x reader
cw(s) : yandere, lyney
wc : 2.6k+
two dorks psychoanalyze each other. might kiss out of spite.
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“For as many hearts as you steal, how many do you keep?”
The smooth texture from designed cards is felt across the tips of your fingers, your eyes capture the patterns printed on them through the filter of silvery moonlight and the sound of steps falling in sync with yours assure you of the verity of this encounter.
You don't even need to look up to picture the twinkling amethysts, the widening curve of lips that never convey anything concrete and a sudden bounce in the magician's steps ; the visage painted in your subconscious like the motifs on the cards your fingers fiddle with in intrigue.
The chilly night breeze are but twirls of playful edge,“You make it sound like something else,”
If you cared to look up, you would've noticed the subtle dance of his brows. Lyney begins to walk a step ahead of you in the midst of his short speech, through prolonged scrutiny that'd rival that of the most skilled jeweler's ; you've associated this change of pace to either be in preparation for his usual trickery — or, in the few sparse occasions that go as soon as they come, a casual introduction of another subject to eliminate the previous one. While one could accuse you of reading too much into things, you've long since learned that when it concerns the eccentric magician, the tell-tale details will reveal what he will not.
“Oh really? Perhaps it's your mind imagining insinuations that do not exist, you do have a creative brain.”
“Ouch, only you could insult and praise me in the same sentence.” Lyney places a hand over his heart to cradle it from the jab, though his choice of words should indicate offense, the delivery makes it clear he wouldn't have it any other way.
“Why, thank you, though you're gravely mistaken if you think that will change the subject.” with a swivel of his cape, Lyney spins to walk facing you, his strides (albeit backwards) unchanging in confidence and only when your lift your head to lock eyes, does his expression lighten.
“Well, to answer your question, the ones that are worth keeping, of course.”
The magician chuckles at your eye-roll, “Don't play coy, you know precisely how I meant that question.”
Lyney hums in pretend contemplation, gaze still fixated on your moonlit form, the beat of both of your steps grazing against the pavement and making it seem like a strange parade. Your question holds substance unknown to the rest of the world, but translucent to the magician.
It is both his frustration and delight that you're never bent by his charming words and theatrics. Your firm stare and insistence on the topic confirm his suspicions that you're searching for something particular, something uprooted from the very depths of his soul and he could bet his entire career that you won't stop until you've wrung it out. The answer you seek is nothing he can't give, it'd be simple as well, but precisely due to this knowledge the magician opts instead to test the limitations of your patience.
Truth be told, Lyney never likes it easy and neither do you.
For a miniscule lapse in the boundless confines of time, it's as though both of your world has separated from the existing one. For an amount that'd otherwise be uncomfortable, all exchange is made through your locked eyes. Like a secret shared between no other soul — despite your better judgement, the realization sends a jolt of thrill through your veins and you cannot help but wonder if the magician feels the same.
Seemingly out of thin air, Lyney twirls his magic wand in a wanton pattern, small sparks of light clash with the moon's glow before waltzing past your hair — you pause for not a second, knowing their goal lies in catching you off-guard. If Lyney was given the chance, he'd spend the rest of the night in determining whether you looking back to the cards in your hands was merely an expression of boredom or a brag of how accustomed you are to his theatrics.
Lyney dabbles between the lines of reality and illusion as a profession, blurring them without his audience's notice to make them believe a miracle. It's a simple trick he's succeeded in transforming into an art, so he was confident you'd be privy to the delusion as well. Whether it's due to you doing the same as him or the opposite entirely, Lyney's persistence in solving the puzzle piece named you only grows more tenacious day-by-day.
Sensing the magician's uncharacteristic quietude, you abandon the cards to his backwards marching form and the cheeky grin plastered on his face has you wishing you hadn't at all.
“Ah, but you see, the information you seek is confidential and I fear for prying ears. How about you come a little closer, and I'll tell you the amount?”
Lyney's face is a perfect replica of the grin-malkin cat he adores using as prop, a cloud obscures the moon's vision from seeing the act down earth and the shimmer of Lyney's eyes become pronounced in contrast to the shadow. In comparison, your visage that'd scream ‘preposterous!’ if it could looks nothing short of a circus.
Your steps come to a halt in unison, a breathy chuckle echoes throughout the dead of the night, “Aw, why that face? I don't bite~”
You blink in surprise and suddenly the magician's presence is way too closer than you recall ; he bows down to your ear and the heat of his breath almost makes a shiver run down your spine.
“... but, I might nibble.”
You catch his impish smirk from the corner of your eye and if Lyney notices how you choke in the formation of words, he could snag an award for acting like he didn't.
“Are you that fixated on creating a scandal? Must you always be so shameless?”
At that, Lyney leans away with a pout, hands folded behind his back and swaying back and forth on the heels of his shoes like a reprimanded child.
“Come on now, don't be such a killjoy. I went through all that trouble to whisk you from that boring party and this is how I'm thanked?”
The magician's words are a drawl, each one competing to be more irritating than the last. You have to take a deep breath and hold your tongue from reminding him that the escapade had been without your choice. The world places limitations on all sorts of things and you're not morbidly curious enough tonight to know the extent of the magician's good graces. A beat of tense silence passes, Lyney takes note of your averted gaze and it positively irks him.
Lack of eye-contact means a number of things ; nervousness, insecurity, hesitancy, guilt. For a performer like him whose pride resides in keeping his audience's eyes hooked on his every move, such a gesture is bitter tasting. But when it concerns you, it pricks and wounds his very soul. Lyney's sigh is one of weight and it inclines you to raise your head.
“By asking how many hearts I keep, you hope to know how many matters to me.”
The magician takes his hat off and moves forward to place it atop your head, his speech is not an assumption, nor an inquiry, but a statement. You straighten your posture when you notice the absence of a smile on his face, the sight so alien it has you on edge. While his gesture may be plain to an inexperienced eye, you know that he does it as an extension of his affection. For all the valued items he keeps dangling by the rim of that hat, he surrenders it all to you in a heartbeat.
But you still hold your breath and as expected, the solemn expression of his proves to be transient. Just before the hat grazes your locks, he tips it back, gives the vacancy of its inside an inspecting look and does an emptying gesture as if to prove its.. well, emptiness. There's a flicker in his eyes you're not given the time to catch as he brings his hat just above your head and does the same depleting motion again ; the scent of fresh roses engulf your senses as a thousand petals cascade down from the hat. As if on cue, the winds pick up and waltz them down upon your form.
Here's the thing ; while you may pride yourself in being experienced in discerning Lyney's tricks, it becomes a task to maintain a straight face as he never repeats his previous sleight of hand. What you can try to do instead is search for patterns, patterns reveal genres and genres reveal intentions. Lyney is a celebrated magician of the Court, his capabilities lie far from simple card tricks, so for him to resort to elementary jugglery instead of some grand spectacle, it can only mean he's trying to distract you yet again.
You feel the weight of his hat on your head at last, shifting all the cards on your left hand, you raise your right to adjust its position slightly.
Your encouragement for him to elaborate comes in the form of confirmation, “That'd be correct,”
The magician's lips curve up in fondness, a playful hum escapes him as you resume your walk, him returning to stride facing you again. It's a skill he's mastered in the duration of your acquaintance, for the purpose of stunts apparently. You have your suspicions — but then again, who doesn't when it concerns Lyney?
“Very well. You accuse me of being such a thief, yet, I think you are the guiltier one between us two.” the errant strands of the magician's hair sway, his eyes keep you captive.
He takes the inquisitive tilt of your head as incentive to conclude, “On the topic of hearts and all, I must ask first, when do you intend to return mine?”
The night winds pause, your brain processes Lyney's question until it blanks upon realization. Your eyes dart across his face that is void of all teasing cues, his eyes glazed over and you can tell he's holding his breath. Any consideration of his behavior aligning with trickery is eliminated just as quickly, because if anyone were to want to understand Lyney as intricately as you, they'd first need to learn to be able to distinguish his flirtation from fact.
“... Do I have to?”
You find yourself half concerned and half entertained as the magician narrowly avoids being hit by a pole, him having to maneuver to regain his footing. Both of your steps come to a halt as your laugh echoes throughout the dead of the night. Lyney sheepishly places a hand on the back of his neck but that sight is all too evanescent. The signature smirk of his returns with enthusiasm.
“Not at all,” he purrs, eyes flickering towards your restless ones that have settled on his magic cards again.
“In fact, mold it to your will, toss it to your whim and hold it captive as though it's a supplement of your own, if you may.”
Your ears hang onto each of Lyney's words but your eyes find no courage to look at the mirth that you're certain is plastered on his face, you take the moment to properly inspect the motifs on the cards with some distraction from the shadows of the night : the grin-malkin cat, a miniature Lyney sticking out his tongue, a tea cup, a penguin and—
You're left stupified as the card is abruptly snatched from your grasp, Lyney bounces back a few steps and confirms to be the culprit. You brisk walk to reach the magician and that turns out to be your biggest mistake.
The card is at first held between two of Lyney's fingers, him shaking it left and right in provocation and in the spur of the moment, you take a leap. You feel the wind of the card being propelled upward, the magician holding it out of your reach. Your desire to obtain the piece of paper exceeds your awareness of the sudden decrease in proximity between you both. You shift to your tiptoes and feel the surface of the card, one look through your peripheral at the magician's smile and you realize a little too late that you've fallen right into his trap.
“Now, let's see, the question that started this all : the number of hearts this magician holds dear is the answer to this riddle—”
You expected Lyney to make the card disappear or shift higher if possible, but instead his hand wraps around yours and you find yourself twirled a full circle. The motion catches you off-guard but the magician stabilizes you by placing a firm hand on your waist and pulling you to his eye-level. You find yourself out-of-breath and unable to look away as the moon shines its light on you two again.
“—Placed above, it makes greater things small. Placed beside, it makes small things greater. ” the magician tilts your chin up in his preferred angle with the card, the cool temperature of its margin contradicting the heat of your skin.
“In matters that count, it always comes first.”
The faint rustle of your garbs against his is resounding, your own reflection stares back through amethyst lenses.
Lyney's voice is but a whisper against your cheek as he concludes, “Where others increase, it keeps all things the same. What is it?”
Your frenzied mind momentarily dreads the scenario wherein someone catches you two in the midst of this rendezvous, from incipiency to this apparent climax ; it's built up to be nothing short of scandalous. But the magician has no care for that outcome, inching closer, closer and closer. As if sensing the new wave of worries that fill your mind, he halts but makes no attempt to lean back, his eyes regain their usual shine.
“Quite easy, don't you think? But, if you believe it to be so, you'll be mislead. After all, that is how the simplest magic bewilders the audience. Blink, and you might miss it.”
The magician dives in and your breath hitches. Your eyes are forced open when you feel yourself stumble forward. The first second is wasted with no action, the second one you register that you have the card in your hand — pressed to your lips, on the third you notice the absence of Lyney's presence and the forth brings down all the embarrassment crashing down on your poor heart.
You pull away the condemned card from your lips, heavens know what anyone would think if they saw you kissing a piece of paper in the middle of nowhere. Your face flushes in the lovely shades of pink, heart hammering against your ribcage.
I could've sworn that I felt...!
The magic card crumbles slightly by the edges because of your grip, the prickle of its corners remind you to take deep breaths and calm your raging thoughts. You shake your head with vigour, but you're unsure if it's to recollect the memory or to brush it off. You're left alone to ruminate the aftermath of the bizarre encounter in the cold winds of midnight and you almost want to drown yourself in the darkest depths of the sea as recollections of your reactions rapidly pass through your mind — you can practically hear Lyney's snickers in your head.
Your attention is then grabbed by the catalyst of your current predicament, you turn over the card and finally inspect the motif printed on the card ; two hearts, bounded by a shackle and a lock. You trace your thumb across the hearts and your mind retraces Lyney's cryptic words. If all interactions, encounters and memories you share with the eccentric magician of Fontaine would form a pinnacle for you to see the truth from ; you'd know that behind the veneer of charisma and humor, Lyney hides something far less innocent. And yet, regardless of the foreboding creeping up your spine, you find yourself unable to snap the tether of connection.
Because as it is, that which is mysterious, captivates us all.
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may all lyney wanters be lyney havers<3
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chaedomi · 3 months
Text
THE CROWN PRINCESS
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SUMMARY . after visiting her mother, lyrica finds herself learning about the mysterious crown princess who resides inside the sun palace.
CHARACTERS . LYRICA NARA TAKAR / BRINNE SOL
WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc (if i missed any, kindly alert me)
WORDCOUNT . 2.9k+ / MASTERLIST.
LETTERS . i'd like to make it known that this fanfiction was inspired by lyomeii's works ─ ( one / two ) yeah, i do plan to make this into a little platonic yandere series. and since this is a little introduction to it all, there won't be as much action in this compared to others that (hopefully) will come. 'breanna' is a character made by me on the spot. oh, God, this is so bad
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LYRICA WAS having the best day of her life. Her mother had just bestowed upon her something truly precious—a silver coin, unparalleled to all the riches that could be offered. Honestly, when she lost the first silver coin she had earned back in the slums, she felt a sense of disappointment. That coin had been her pride, marked and stained with all the times she held it, dreaming of a better future. She never aspired to acquire another, as it couldn't compare to the first one she had cherished for so long. But, who cared? Even if it wasn't the same coin, it was still a silver coin—her precious silver coin.
"Ah... Huh...?" Lyrica's footsteps halted as something interesting captured her attention. The Black Dragon Chamber next door was The Crown Prince's room, and right next to it was another door—the entrance to The Crown Princess's chambers. It occurred to Lyrica that she had never laid eyes on The Crown Princess before. The Crown Princess hadn't even been present at her mother's and His Majesty's wedding!
Lyrica lifted her gaze to examine the sign above the chamber door. Said signs depicted the theme of the chambers and, by extension, identified the type of dragon associated with The Crown Princess.
However, instead of the expected dragon imagery, there was what Lyrica recognized as a constellation.
"Oh my," Brinne spoke beside Lyrica, causing the little girl to startle, as the voice was unexpected. "It seems that Your Highness has stumbled across something very interesting. Would you like me to explain, Your Highness?"
"Huh...?" Lyrica blinked at her servant before finally catching on. "O... Oh, yes, please!"
Brinne laughed in response to Lyrica's enthusiasm. "Recall when I mentioned that His Majesty and House Takar trace their lineage to dragons? I also explained that House Wolfe descends from wolves, and House Sandar's ancestry is tied to a colossal snake as thick as a tree."
Brinne’s eyelids fluttered open, and Lyrica could see for herself the fondness swirling in her amethyst-hued eyes.  Lyrica's curiosity deepened even more as a result of this reaction. Minor details about The Crown Princess's existence are known, yet she already fascinates Lyrica. In the 'White Dragon Chamber,' Lyrica remembers the information Brinne shared with her. The Founder of the prosperous Takar Nation was a dragon, leading to the Imperial Family (comprising Takars) being named after these mythical creatures.
So, why is it that you, The Crown Princess, aren't named after a dragon? Your hand was given to The Crown Prince, which rightfully places you within the Imperial Family. However, you carry the identity of something different—a star, or more precisely, a constellation of stars known as Pollux.
Lyrica resisted the urge to ask, concerned about overwhelming Brinne with questions she might not have answers to. However, the more she thought, the more she wanted answers. Despite the unsettling tales she had heard about The Emperor, her stepfather had proven to be benevolent. It wasn't as if The Emperor despised you otherwise, he wouldn't have permitted you to reside in The Sun Palace and ''''marry'''' The Crown Prince. So, why...?
Lyrica bit her lip and groaned, ultimately yielding to her curiosity. "The Family Crest of High-Ranking Nobles symbolizes their ancestry. However, considering House (L.N) bears the crest of a star, does that suggest that The Crown Princess is descended from a star?" Brinne tilted her head and beamed, satisfied with Lyrica's analysis. "Exactly!"
Although Brinne appeared content, Lyrica felt the opposite, her eyebrows furrowing in dissatisfaction. "But... I thought all Takars were named after dragons. What about The Crown Princess?" It's only at that moment that Brinne understands the confusion of The Young Princess. Brinne's smile widened further, momentarily causing Lyrica to worry about the strain on her jaw muscles.
"It's as you mentioned, Your Highness. All Takars, even those married into The Imperial Family, bear dragon names. But, The Crown Princess is only engaged to His Highness.” Brinne replied, a sly smirk gracing her stunning features. Lyrica's expression faltered as she processed her servant's words. “Your Highness, let me make it known that His Majesty deeply admires House (L.N), especially The Crown Princess."
As the realization dawned on her, Lyrica almost jumped in surprise. Tolerance and respect were one thing, but admiration? Another question was… why did Brinne tell her all of this when she had first moved into her chambers? Did she forget…?
Brinne giggled at Lyrica’s reaction. "With admiration comes a deep bond. As we know, His Majesty cannot rule forever, nor will it be advised for his nephew to rule alone. And so, because His Majesty trusts no one as he trusts House (L.N), he decided that one of them shall ascend to the throne alongside his nephew. Despite the many good suitors House (L.N) had to offer, The Crown Princess was chosen as she not only captured him with her abilities but her personality as well."
“Of course, to be a Crown Princess, you need to marry The Crown Prince first. However, His Majesty’s instructions to address Her Highness as such regardless is a way of showcasing her permanent ascension.”
Lyrica's eyebrows rose at the revelation. Well, now it makes sense why you weren’t identified as a dragon. Forget what she said about the marriage thing too. "But wait! Even if The Crown Princess didn’t receive that privilege, would she still be considered important, perhaps more so than High-Ranking Nobles?"
Brinne hummed in thought. “She would still be considered as a High-Ranking Noble even if she and those in House (L.N) hold more privileges than the others in the same noble class. …It’s all because of His Majesty’s orders. Everything is. You are aware of how absolute His Majesty’s orders are, right? If His Majesty commands people to act like animals, they will do just that. If His Majesty says to idolize an object, they will do just that! Even more so if His Majesty orders his people to respect House (L.N) just as they respect House Takar, they will do just that. It doesn’t matter if people are pleased with the arrangements or not. ...His Majesty’s reason for doing so all aligns with the shared history of House Takar and House (L.N).”
Lyrica became intrigued by that bit of information. "Shared history?" She leaned in, eager to learn more. "Can you tell me more, Brinne?" Unfortunately, Brinne responded with an apologetic smile, disappointing Lyrica.
"Regrettably, that's the extent of my knowledge regarding the relationship between House (L.N) and House Takar. It's a limit for anyone," Brinne's lips tightened. "The narrative unfolds after the nation's expansion and the allegiance of House Sandar and House Wolfe, undoubtedly including the deeds of House (L.N) that earned His Majesty's favor."
"However, crucial details of this significant historical period somehow vanished. Consequently, over time, people began crafting theories about how House (L.N) and House Takar evolved into their current relationship. Some theories were logical, while others were entirely nonsensical. And, of course, some seized the opportunity for profit, as seen in the widely popular children's fairytale, 'The Dragon Who Fell In Love With A Star.' You must have heard of it, haven't you?"
Lyrica recalled hearing a similar story in the slums, never imagining its connection to something so crucial. "That's incredible!" she exclaimed.
"Despite these theories, none have been confirmed. House (L.N) and House Takar are the only ones capable of such confirmation. However, His Majesty has maintained silence on the matter, and House (L.N) feels compelled to align with his decision."
"Yet, certain aspects remain clear. Regardless of factual evidence, His Majesty holds House (L.N) in high regard. Thus, we are to treat them with respect, just as we will respect House Takar. Whether others agree or disagree is unimportant."
“Either way, the latter is not a concern,” Brinne continued. “Everyone in this nation is fond of House (L.N), or in this case, The Crown Princess.”
Lyrica cocked her head to the side. “Even you?”
"Yes, Your Highness! Why wouldn't I?" Brinne laughed. "Allow me to explain how House (L.N) operates. As we are aware, High-Ranking Nobles align themselves with the symbols on their crests. Given that House (L.N) traces its lineage to a star... it's worth noting that House (L.N) is the largest Noble Family in the nation. This serves as a symbolic representation of the countless stars that adorn the sky."
"B-Billions!?" Lyrica stammered, staring at Brinne with widened eyes.
"Oh, dear." Brinne covered her mouth. "Your Highness, House (L.N) doesn't quite literally have billions. However, like certain traits are inherent to specific Noble Families, having large kin is one characteristic of House (L.N). So, fear not, Your Highness; having a small family circle is normal. House (L.N) just happens to multiply at a very alarming rate... to the extent that they are scattered throughout all corners of the nation."
"Due to their extensive family, House (L.N) has implemented a system within their household to maintain order. Drawing inspiration from astrology, where eighty-eight constellations are recognized, House (L.N) has structured itself into eighty-eight classes, each with varying levels of power and status. However, within these eighty-eight classes, there exist twelve classes that house the highest positions. I find myself intrigued by the method they use to organize it all..."
"But, moving on!" Brinne placed her hands on her knees. "Your Highness, are you familiar with the twelve constellations of the universe?"
"Yes! Glendelyn taught me about them! It's uh... Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces... right!?" Lyrica grinned, pleased with herself for recalling both the names and pronunciation.
"And those would be the twelve classes of House (L.N) with the highest status and power! The Crown Princess oversees Class Gemini of House (L.N), in part. As we know, Gemini is a twin star encompassing both Pollux and Castor. Therefore, Gemini is responsible for two individuals, with The Crown Princess having authority over Pollux."
Brinne's eyes crinkled with amusement. "It makes me wonder... if House (L.N)'s class sorting is also influenced by personality traits..."
"What makes you think that...?" Lyrica inquired, tilting her head to the side.
"Pollux means 'very sweet' or 'fit for royalty.' And when compared to both Castor and Pollux, Pollux is the brighter star of the two." Brinne giggled. "'Fit for royalty'... truly describes The Crown Princess! The Crown Princess can also be characterized as... bright and pure. Undoubtedly, she possesses the most beautiful soul in the entire nation."
In Lyrica's thoughts, she argues that her mother is the most beautiful soul of all!
"Generous, selfless, and loving. The Crown Princess consistently treats everyone impartially and respectfully, ignoring class or personality. When she had more freedom before getting engaged, The Crown Princess frequently visited the lower class, playing with the little children there. She gave them gifts, food, and clothes, disregarding the opinions of those in the Noble Status," Brinne explained.
"Now, with increased power, The Crown Princess has expressed her intent to enhance the quality of life for the lower class. His Majesty has already given his approval, leaving the timing of the project's initiation to The Crown Princess." Brinne hummed. "In summary, The Crown Princess is admired not just for her history and status. It's her demeanor and how she treats others, whether good or evil, that truly highlights her charm."
By now, Lyrica's eyes were gleaming. "She does sound amazing..." As someone who had previously lived in the slums, hearing about how The Crown Princess cared so tenderly for her fellow people deeply touched Lyrica. Typically, individuals of higher status tended to be snobbish and avoided those from lower classes, using harsh and insulting labels. Lyrica was all too familiar with that. However, there were exceptions—The Crown Princess, who cared for them despite their backgrounds, striving to improve their lives! Lyrica's thoughts began to wander, imagining what her life might have been like if she had encountered The Crown Princess in the past.
The only issue in her thoughts was, "Brinne, how exactly does The Crown Princess look?"
"Hmm... Let me think about how I can describe this. Your Highness, when you gaze at the stars at night, what's the first thing that comes to your mind?" Brinne inquired.
"Well, I always think about how beautiful the stars look tonight," Lyrica responded promptly.
“It’s the same for House (L.N). They possess a certain essence that makes them shine, glitter, and sparkle. The Crown Princess is no exception. She has gorgeous (h.c) hair that sparkles under the sunlight, and (s.c) skin that glows with the moonlight. However, what truly sets The Crown Princess apart within her House is her eyes. Those eyes of hers... are the physical embodiment of her lineage. With (e.c) eyes that sparkle like fine jewels, she carries the entire universe in them."
Lyrica's jaw dropped in amazement. "Is that another form of symbolism...?"
Brinne shook her head. "This time, it's quite literal." Seeing Lyrica's face scrunch up in suspicion, Brinne resisted the urge to giggle. "Oh my, Your Highness. I assure you, I'm not making fun of you for thinking House (L.N) consisted of billions of members. I don't blame you for being skeptical. Eyes resembling the universe? It does sound far-fetched, especially when no one else is known for having such a trait. But, it is the truth."
Lyrica pouted, fiddling with her clothes. "All of this talk just makes me want to meet The Crown Princess!"
"Huhu~ I'm certain The Crown Princess would have loved to meet you too, Your Highness. Unfortunately, current circumstances just won't allow her to do so. With The Crown Prince currently absent, The Crown Princess has temporarily taken over his responsibilities, attending to any work that needs to be accomplished in his stead."
"I can recall a day when The Crown Princess looked like a disaster, seconds away from collapsing onto the ground," Brinne shivered. "As much work as it may be, it's what needs to be done. Again, The Crown Prince and The Crown Princess are destined to ascend to the throne one day, signifying the future management of the nation. Thus, they must demonstrate their capabilities to the people, and most importantly, His Majesty."
“Oh!” Lyrica blinked.
“Hmm… Now, I’m not sure, but, come to think of it, you should be able to see The Crown Princess soon, Your Highness.” Brinne added.
“Oh!?” Lyrica exclaimed in a louder tone.
“His Highness should be returning from his feudal territory very soon. And once he does, Her Highness should be able to take a breather from her piles of work.”
Lyrica fell silent, staring at Brinne with a soft expression. Lyrica then smiled fondly, clasping her hands together. “I know The Crown Princess isn’t fully inside the family as yet… Even so, she would be my cousin. But, still… The Crown Princess… would be some form of big sister, right…?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“YOUR HIGHNESS! I come to you with great news! His Highness should be returning soon!” Gracefully entering the 'Constellation Pollux Chamber,' a maid carrying a golden tray of food and treats hastened toward you, seated upright in your bed, gazing at the scenery beyond your window.
Turning your attention forward, you stared at your maid with widened eyes. "Is that so?" Your surprise quickly morphed into happiness, a smile spreading across your lips as you interlaced your fingers. A flowery aura surrounded you, and your excitement was visible. "That is good news! How long has it been since Atil was gone...? Six months?"
"Precisely," your maid, Breanna, hummed, gently placing the tray on your bed tray table, which you wasted no time digging into. "I can tell that you have many ideas running through your head, Your Highness. I, too, would want to greet someone I cherish with a warm welcome after not seeing them for so long."
"For Atil...? Erm... No, that's not why I'm so excited... I'm excited because I won't have to work as hard as I did anymore!" You beamed without shame. "Ugh, it was torturous... Left, right, and center, it was just piles of paper. Any more, and I would have begun to see the pearly white gates of heaven..."
"Oh, my, is that all? His Highness would be upset if he heard that's the only reason you missed his presence," Breanna giggled.
"...Seriously...?"
"And then there are your new family members, Your Highness."
You paused, fingers clasped around the handle of your spoon. Slowly, you lifted your head to meet your maid's gaze, (e.c) eyes locking with amethyst eyes. "Yes, I have heard about the news. How His Majesty has taken a commoner as his bride, and her child as his daughter."
Your smile widened, lips encased around the tip of the spoon. As if nature were in sync with you, the sunlight cast an ethereal glow on your frame, making you appear more enchanting. Even your maid, who wore a sly smirk seconds prior, jaw slackened, staring at you in awe.
"It's a shame I am unable to do anything at the moment. I can't express just how eager I am to meet them. But one thing's for sure... I already see them as family."
In your eyes was the universe. Stars served as pupils, they glowed with endless glee and anticipation.
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©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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meraxesmoon · 6 months
Note
imagine daemon prohibiting bastard!reader from having dragon rides and balerion almost destroying dragonstone because of it
note: TURNING THIS INTO A ONESHOT BC OMG
warnings: yandere content, daemon being petty, rhae trying to mother (name), caraxes slander (I'm so sorry), a dead knight
┍━━━━━━━ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗━━━━━━━┑
Dragonstone was particularly dreary today, or maybe she just saw it that way as she stood before her 'father' and his wife as he explained (or at least tried to) why she was barred from riding Balerion today. It made no sense to (Name). Did her father secretly hate her? Did he want her to suffer? Otherwise, why would he stop her from doing the only thing that made her happy?
It was obvious that Rhaenyra and Jacaerys did not agree with this, but she was Daemon's daughter, and what he said went.
"You are banned from dragon riding until further notice," Daemon says, looking at his little girl as she glares at the floor with her dark eyes. She's misty-eyed and refuses to look at him as she grips at the burgundy dress her stepmother had put her in early this morning. The fabric was being pulled at and wrinkled as she gripped in in her tiny hands, her knuckles paling as she urged her tears not to fall. She hated looking weak in front of him. It made her skin crawl. The only one she allowed herself to be vulnerable with was her dragon, Balerion.
She genuinely hated Daemon Targaryen with a searing passion.
"Come now, Sweetling," Rhaenyra tries to coo at the little girl as dotingly as she could, using the tone of voice she only used with her children. "I'll take you to see Syrax if you'd like." It was a kind gesture, even (Name)'s muddled mind could comprehend that, but she was too distraught to say anything back to her stepmother. Instead, she takes Jace's hand as he leads her back to her room, knowing that all she needs to do is cry and take a long nap.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
(Name) is only ushered out of her room once dusk hits, Luke taking her to Dragonstone's dining hall so she can eat with the family. She sits in between her "brothers," shielding Daemon from her view. She could hardly look at him, her lip wobbling as she sipped at the cider in her cup. Rhaena had gifted her a dragon figure made out of dragon glass, and (Name) grips it tightly in her small hand as she tries to eat.
"..."
The dining hall was usually bustling with conversation, but tonight, it was starkly quiet. Rhaenyra sat and made sure little Joff wouldn't choke on his food, Baela was sharing looks with her sister, and the boys kept sending worried glances to their mother. (Name), once tired of eating her food, just glared at the table. Daemon held his chin in his hand, ignoring the disappointment looks his other two girls were sending him.
"(Name), come with me tomorrow to ride on Caraxes, he's very -" "No." She grunts out her response, poison dripping from her voice as she glares at the table even harder.
She didn't want to fly on his stupid dragon. She wanted to fly on her amazing, graceful, gorgeous dragon. Balerion had a certain ferocity to him, of course, but he was gentle with her and treated her more kindly than most humans. It hadn't even been a full day, and she missed him dearly.
Before any arguments could flare up, a guard comes storming in, panic written all over his face.
"What's happened, Ser?" Rhaenyra questions, thinking that perhaps something had happened to her youngest children. White in the face, the knight clears his throat before answering. "It is the princesses dragon. The Black Dread is attacking Dragonstone!"
Daemon goes slack, his eyes closing in irritation.
He hated that overgrown cat.
"Daemon, take her to him. Now." Rhaenyra warns her husband, her amethyst eyes narrowing at him.
Daemon takes his daughter on Caraxes, and they fly down to the bridge of Dragonstone where Balerion was wreaking havoc. The onyx scales of Balerion shone in the evening sun as he trampled all over the place. In his jaw, the bloody remains of a knight. (Name) grimaced at the sight, because she knew that Balerion wouldn't have done this unless he was bothered enough.
He was angry, she could feel that much.
Noticing them, Balerion drops the corpse, crimson blood dripping from his black teeth as he huffs at the sight of Daemon. Daemon found the entire situation funny, which prompted (Name) to squirm on the dragon saddle. Balerion was never one for jokes, and he didn't like her father in the slightest. Balerion's ginormous frame barely fit on the bridge, and one of his clawed feet were in the water as he shook his scales as a warning to Daemon.
(Name) pops her little body off of Caraxes, running towards Balerion, not caring if her dress got all messy in the process. Noticing his small rider on the ground, Balerion lowers his large head, his nostrils flaring as he lets her stroke her hand over his snoot. Daemon looks at the black dragon with resentment in his eyes, pursing his lips in annoyance, Caraxes lets out a whistle in response to Daemon's emotions.
The Rogue Prince watches as his youngest daughter climbs up her dragons wing, settling herself on the saddle that rested on Balerion's back. The smile on her face was simply too sweet, Daemon couldn't be too angry. He eyes the bloody mess on the ground as Balerion turns back to return to his resting place with (Name) in tow.
"Ugh..."
Daemon really hated that damned dragon.
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daemon: you can't ride balerion today
(name): :'(((
balerion: >:O 🔥
@your-favorite-god
789 notes · View notes
naviavu · 1 year
Note
Okay we all know this trope with Ayato and daughter of some Inazuman clan, but hear me out... Ayato and nymph from Chinju forest. He found you when he was coming from beetle fight with Itto, you were laying unconscious in this pretty, translucent dress. Of course, as a gentleman, he takes you to his manor, where you are treated properly. You can't remember who you are or what were you doing, but it's alright, he says, he will take care of you from now on 👀
WHAT GOES AROUND, COMES BACK AROUND 
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PAIRINGS: yandere!ayato x nymph!reader
TAGS: noncon, abuse of power, somnophilia, implied fem!chubby!reader, manipulation, creampie, breeding, shy and insecure reader, kinda lore-y?, ayato is lovesick, gaslighting, ayato is a mastermind and now you’re his
WORDS: 5.6k // crossposted on ao3 // my masterlist
NOTES: after a whole ass year, guess who’s BACK. anon, thank you so much for giving me this wonderful idea and i hope you’re still around (no mentions of itto tho, sorry ☹) as usual, college got in the way but at least i’m getting an internship this year (yay! finally getting paid lol). oddly enough, this fic was the easiest and least stressful to write despite me procrastinating it the most. i hope you enjoy a darker twist in ayato’s characterization! may you have a blessed year, readers <3
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The warmth swirling in his eyes is definitely from his mother, you muse. "Thank you for not letting the history between us stop you, Sir Ayato. I know things had been rocky between nymphs and your clan ever since…" your parents passed away, but the words died on your tongue.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up."
He chuckles, surprising you. "I’m just doing my job as the Yashiro Commissioner.” He scans over your body one last time. You shiver from his gaze. “I look forward to seeing you in a healthier state.”
His scent lingers even after he leaves.
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Bathing in Chinju Forest alone at night wasn't the most excellent idea.
You curse as you look around, surrounded by clear waters and tall trees. The night flowers glow a faint blue, enough for you to see a path towards the nearby Torri gate. On the side, your sister’s potion cabin is empty. From here, you can still smell a whiff of whatever Danalise was brewing hours ago before she left.
After receiving news that there are members of the Shuumatsuban waiting for them by the nymph’s dwellings, your sisters have long left before sunset, leaving you alone to bask in the peaceful forest. By this time, they must be discussing affairs with your eldest sister, Danalise, the nymph’s village chief.
As the outcast, your presence isn’t needed. It's not like your sisters ever trusted you to handle political matters or tried to include you in civic discussions, anyway. It was enough for them that you stay out of their way and let smarter and more capable people take the reins. You weren’t talented as Adasia; that birds hum along when you sing. Or Phia, whose paintings and sculptures rival those in real life. Or as smart as your favorite sister Danalise, who’s made countless nymph medicines and healed dozens of the remaining few.
But you didn’t have to be this careless.
You relax when you see your nightgown still perched by the river’s rocks. There have been multiple accounts of perverts-- ordinary men, samurais, and nobility alike-- stealing your sisters’ garments while they bathe, putting you in unease. This wasn’t your first time bathing alone, but it was your first time accidentally staying until night.
Touching the amethyst pendant of your necklace, you silently thank the Archon that no one has attempted to do such a thing. You slip your clothes on.
Well… it’s further proof that even your beauty paled compared to your sisters.
You shake your head. You chose to be alone in the first place to erase negative thoughts that have been brewing for the past week, and it frustrates you how easily it returns.
No more than five steps into the forest, a small vial silently rolls.
It was too late when you hear the glass crack beneath your hard slippers.
You retch. Losing control of your body, you double over and cough violently.
Your body falls on a nearby tree. "Someone– please– help!" You're scared and confused and alone, senses overwhelmed by the foul scent.
Your head spins. The world turns dark, and the last thing you see is pale blue hair and purple eyes.
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"--ord, she's awake!" A voice calls out, and your head pounds.
Everything feels too soft.
Where were your sisters?
Footsteps arrive near you. "Good. Ayaka worries too much, and she wasn't even the one who found this cute nymph passed out on the forest floor."
Ayaka? Lady Kamisato Ayaka?
You open your eyes and see Kamisato Ayato.
On his side is Thoma. Even though you’re not close, his familiar face brings you comfort. You’ve seen him talking with your sisters every once in a while.
You sigh in relief, before tensing up again. You were inside the residence of the Yashiro Commissioner himself!
The man beside you raises his gloved hand to touch your forehead. "How are you feeling– oh!"
You squeak and block him away. "Sorry, sorry! Sorry, Lord… Sir… Ayato." You turn red. So much for good impressions. What if your sisters find out that you embarrassed yourself in front of him?  "I'm really confused. Where am I?" You cringe internally. In the Kamisato Estate, of course!
He pays no mind, a shimmer of amusement in his eyes. He dismisses Thoma.
"In the Kamisato Estate, inside one of our guest rooms. You were out for a whole day," The shoji on the side of the room is open, letting in pleasant sunlight that warmed your skin. Inside your kimono is your nightgown from yesterday. Your necklace is still intact.
"I found you unconscious by the river when I was passing by Chinju Forest,” His brows furrow with concern, and you flush. You’ve heard rumors of his cold beauty, but nothing compares to seeing him up close. "I had to take you here to be treated immediately. Worry not, I already sent men to inform your sisters of your situation."
You bow, now feeling the ache of your sore body. "Thank you so much, my lord."
He shakes his head. "You need to be careful next time. Nymph or not, bathing alone in public places is dangerous."
It doesn’t help that the nymph's reputation has weakened over the past decades. We’re no longer the powerful creatures that we used to be. Your eyes remain on the pristine white sheets. “But I don’t blame you. The potion used on you was quite…”
"The potion?”
“The thing that knocked you out, (Y/N). Do you not remember?” Lord Kamisato reaches into his suit pocket and brings out what looks like a small perfume bottle, no bigger than three inches, decorated with intricate hearts on the front. "The bottle design suggests that whoever created this is from a foreign land. Sumerian, even. But I cannot be sure unless we get a hand on another sample of the liquid itself."
Your eyes widen. “You plan to catch whoever caused my… unconsciousness, my Lord?”
“Not just plan. I will catch them, (Y/N). I cannot let this happen again, and the fact that it did shows that I lacked vigilance in protecting my people.” You think it was too much effort for one simple case, but you suppress the urge to refute him and dare not interrupt. You can only be grateful for his initiative.
He puts the small bottle back in his pocket. “With that being said, I require you to stay in the Estate for a week to ensure your recovery and monitor you should there be any long-term effects.”
You freeze and the man gives you an apologetic smile. “It’s protocol, and for the best interests of all people in the community. I hope you understand, (Y/N).”
“O-Of course, my lord! I’m thankful for all of your efforts, and I’ll help your investigation as much as possible.” He smiles genuinely this time at your eagerness.
The warmth swirling in his eyes is definitely from his mother, you muse. "Thank you for not letting the history between us stop you, Sir Ayato. I know things had been rocky between nymphs and your clan ever since…" your parents passed away, but the words died on your tongue.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up."
He chuckles, surprising you. "I’m just doing my job as the Yashiro Commissioner, (Y/N).” He scans over your body one last time. You shiver. “I look forward to seeing you in a healthier state.”
His scent lingers even after he leaves.
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Nobody arrived to pick you up one week later.
It is common knowledge to Inazumans that the nymphs from Chinju Forest have been under the Kamisatos protection since the dawn of time, as their ancestors helped each other to grow and survive through different eras. The nymphs gather resources from the forest that helped the Kamisatos grow in their administrative standing, and in exchange, the nymphs and their village are protected from invaders and political monopoly while letting them live a peaceful life. When the time came that the Kamisatos became one of the most powerful clans in the country, they never stopped supporting the nymph’s village.
It was inevitable that one of your sisters fell in love with a clan member. Whoever she was, she had long passed or had gone missing—and even your sisters who have lived longer than you refuse to talk about her.
Rumors say that the Kamisato patriarch was poisoned because a nymph had wanted his love, but he only loved his wife. And so follows the tragedy of losing both Kamisato heads that forced their children, Ayato and Ayaka, to take over their responsibilities and grow up too fast.
Hence your sisters’ fear of the Kamisatos. They have been nothing but kind during diplomatic talks, but you can’t blame them for being wary: the case was never solved, after all. When Danalise interrogated every sister to tears (including you, at such a young age) the night that the Kamisato patriarch’s death had spread around Inazuma, no one admitted anything.
As a safety net, everyone kept their distance: weekly meetings in the nymph’s village became monthly, your sisters avoided collecting food near the Estate, and the staff weren’t as friendly to them anymore.
No one from the Kamisato Estate questioned this change. The seed of distrust had already taken its root.
However, living with them proved you wrong.
Upon Lord Ayato’s absence because of the investigation, Lady Ayaka and Thoma frequently checked up on you. You couldn’t refuse when they first invited you to dinner since Thoma told you that Ayaka was often lonely, and it was rare for her to hang out and let loose with someone else. The staff had been accommodating during your stay, even going far to prevent you from doing simple chores.
You felt like a freeloader. When you insisted that you needed physical activity to speed up your recovery, the servants shook their heads politely. ‘The Commissioner’s order,’ they said.
When Ayato finally arrived home, you greeted him with utmost respect. He laughed and patted your head. “No need for the formalities, my dear. Or else I shall feel bashful that a beauty like you insist on calling me ‘sir’ or ‘my lord’.”
You can still hear his pleasant laughter in the hallways after you bolt to your room. Your scream is muffled on your pillow.
Curse your stupid crush on him.
An hour later, one of the servants knocked. “Lady (Y/N), Lord Ayato has called for you in his quarters.”
Against your will, you find yourself in front of his door. You knock twice. “Sir Ayato?”
Ayato opens the door, still wearing his travel clothes. “Come inside, (Y/N).”
As easy as breathing, you immediately recognize the woman behind him. “Dana!”
You waste no time and tackle her in a hug.
Your sister sighs and pries your arms away. "How have you been doing? Not being a burden to the Commissioner, I hope?" She’s clad in her formal garments, but something weighs down her usually confident stance.
The indifference in her eyes and cold words hurt you. You take a step back and wrap your arms around yourself.
You expected Dana to miss you as much as you did, since she was the only one who paid attention to you and cared for your well-being.
Nevertheless, her presence brought a smile to your face. It felt like home was near.
You shake your head. "No! I’ve been trying to help around the house, I promise!”
Silence encompasses the three of you. Outside, the busy staff continue working around the estate. Some are tasked to prepare a child’s room.
You bounce on your feet, oblivious to the tense atmosphere. “Sister, are we going to go home?”
"(Y/N)..." Ayato clears his throat. You look at him expectantly. "Upon consulting multiple Inazuman scholars, the potion you inhaled was reported to be a… potency potion for nymphs,” He stops, gauging your reaction.
Only the rapid beating of your heart betrays your calm façade. “What… what do you mean by that, my lord?” You ask, voice steady. You don’t want to know. You’ve had enough of potions and investigation. You just want to go home.
He briefly glances at Dana, silently asking for permission to proceed. Your sister, ever so helpful, refuses to look at both of you. Her glossy black hair covers her face as she looks down.
(Unbeknownst to you, she was seething with anger. Your sister cannot find the courage to look at you.)
Her unusual behavior puts you more on edge, like seconds before tittering off a cliff. “L-Lord Ayato,” Your voice breaks. “Please continue what you were saying.”
He takes a deep breath. “The strange potion puts you to sleep and makes your body more reactive to… stimulation. It’s highly likely that you’ve fallen victim to a person’s sinful desires.”
The whole world stops, and the room expands.
Like that night in the forest, you feel scared, confused, and alone.
You whisper. “I don’t understand.” But you do.
“It’s an aphrodisiac laced with a sleeping drug!” Dana yells, voice shrill. You visibly recoil, feeling her anger come off in waves. “It means that some scum has been planning to violate you.”
“What? I don’t…” The soreness between your thighs. Faint bruises on your wrists. A fading hickey on your neck near the back of it, one that you just noticed last night. Dana does nothing to comfort you, only glaring daggers at your shaking form. Tears well up in your eyes.
Your sister prances around the room, her heavy steps pounding your head. “I told you to go home before sundown! Why didn’t you listen to me?"
“Now, it’s highly improper to blame her,” Ayato interjects. Dana glares at him and clenches her fist.
He moves in front of you and grasps your hands.  "I don’t want to delay the investigation further. We decided you can't return to our village until we catch who did this. The situation has worsened now that we know the culprit’s intentions."
"But how long would that take!" You shout.
(You miss the split second of anger in his eyes.)
You plead. "I just want to go home, Dana, please. I didn’t mean for all of this to happen."
"You might endanger your sisters, (Y/N)! We are not leading a criminal inside our home just because of your selfishness," Her words felt like death sentence. The last time you saw your sister with a hopeless look in her eyes was after she failed to catch the culprit of the Kamisato patriarch’s death.
Your soft sobs pierce the silence. "I’ll… come back for you when the time comes."
(Ayato’s hand delicately trails on the back of your neck to soothe you.)
Dana’s eyes widen, and she looks away. You don’t hear her whisper, ‘this is for the greater good.’
You’re inconsolable when the door slams and she leaves. Ayato wraps you in his arms. You don’t care if your tears soak his perfectly-ironed coat.
You spend the rest of the day in his quarters, sitting beside him while he does paperwork. He gives you a glance every once in a while, a hand rubbing circles on your back when he notices you trying to stifle your cries. Your face glows a faint red, not because of your sadness but because of his intimate actions.
He’s too close. It’s all inappropriate. You tell yourself that Lord Kamisato is just being kind.
But he’s there when you needed comfort and safety the most.
That night, you fiddle with your necklace. You vaguely remember your sisters giving this to you on your birthday.
Betrayal burns through you. You want to break it from your neck.
(You don’t.
Instead of your past, the amethyst pendant starts to remind you of the Commissioner’s eyes.)
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You lose track of time. A week with no news from Dana or any of your sisters felt like agonizing years.
You’ve become restless. Every day, you ask where Ayato is.
“He’s working hard to investigate your case, Lady (Y/N).” The staff says. Their eyes that once filled with joy upon seeing you are now laced with concern and pity. “We do not know when he’ll be back.”
Being the black sheep of the nymph village is something that you accepted long ago. Still, you thought that Danalise would still fight to take you back because you trusted her as your eldest sister and your leader.
You hate that she abandoned you. You also hate that you still longed for your sisters’ presence more than anything else.
Your footsteps patter on the freshly-cleaned wooden floor. "Sir Junichi, do you know where my necklace is? It’s been missing since last night."
“Good morning, (Y/N)." The old man sneezes. On his hand is a wedding dress, elegant but dusty. The colors are vibrant and the fabric has no frays despite the old and traditional style.
You remember one of the portraits hung by the dining room where the Kamisato siblings' mother wear the exact same dress. Why is he holding that?
"I’m not sure, but I think I saw one in Lord Kamisato's office."
A faint blush appears on your cheeks when you remember the day you spent with him. "Thank you."
There was no one inside Ayato’s room, despite him being home. On the table, the rare sight of his organized documents greeted you. Several letters and a freshly inked fountain pen rest by the windows. Souvenirs from Lady Ayaka are displayed on the shelves, all with no dust. A picture of him, Thoma, Taromaru, and Lady Ayaka together in a festival is delicately pinned on the corner of the makeshift bulletin board. The sight warms your heart.
Carefully looking around, your necklace glints whilst hung on the high cabinets. You tiptoe and pull. It barely budges. You reach out and swiftly grab the necklace that the cabinet doors open.
Dozens of empty bottles roll out and you shield yourself from the fall.
A familiar rotten smell invades your scent. Your heart sinks to your stomach.
You jump on your feet and run before colliding with a body. "(Y/N)? What are you doing here–"
"Thoma!" You shout as your voice shakes in fear. "He's lying! He violated me!"
"What– who violated you? Please, breathe and calm down."
"Ayato-- Lord Kamisato–" You gasp out, realizing that Thoma is Ayato’s closest friend. "There was no one else in that forest, just him, I saw him– and he said I was violated before he arrived, and that doesn't make sense because he was there before I blacked out! Thoma, please, I know I sound crazy, you have to believe me," You tremble.
In the midst of your frantic words, Thoma appears confused. "You're saying that… it was Lord Ayato who had violated you?" He whispers carefully, hesitant with his words. You nod urgently.
Your thoughts were racing, but you knew one thing: you must get out of this place now. Thoma have always been kind, patient, and understanding, so he will believe you–
"--don't think Thoma believes a word, don't you? Leave us, Thoma."
The housekeeper pulls away from your embrace, curtsied 'm'lord' before exiting and shutting the kanban behind him.
You freeze. You should have known where his loyalties lie.
Behind you, you hear Ayato pick up one bottle. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, (Y/N)."
You grit your teeth. “Find out what.”
“Playing dumb now that I’ve arrived?” He laughs. It sounded melodious when you first heard it; now it twisted your guts. “Not the smartest move, (Y/N).”
“I want to hear you say it. Answer me, Ayato!"
You whimper as your chin is roughly grabbed from behind, forcing you to face him. “I get that you’re upset, but I don’t appreciate the disrespect, princess. Now, let’s start.” He clasps his hand around your arm firmly. “Took you roughly two weeks to find out. Guess there's no denying that now, huh?"  
"Please spare me your explanations, Lord Kamisato," You cried out, hurt and betrayal in your eyes. "I'll make sure that everyone in this Estate knows how much of a degenerate you are–let go of me!"
“The Estate," He whispers, voice a low rumble in your ear. "Is mine. Thoma continued his duties per usual after walking out. Ayaka is happy I finally found a fitting partner to continue our bloodline. My servants always kept an eye on you whenever I was gone. I watched your every move, darling."
"Your pathetic attempts to escape will be halted, and you'll end up in your room again. Worse, on mine," You pulled around and trashed, screaming and shouting and fighting before a bottle was opened, and you inhaled that scent again. "Breathe, my love.”
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When you wake, your body was already in the throes of passion.
"Feeling good, love?" Ayato sighs, lost in the pleasure. He thrusts slowly inside you. "Look at us, spending the night in each other's arms like that day in the forest."
He leers at your panicked form, seeing your eyes go wide. He’s naked, and in the corner of your eye, you see his clothes discarded haphazardly in a pile mixed with yours. "Nymphs are easily swayed, aren't they? It only took a few threats to convince them to give you to me. They didn't even want money. They immediately agreed to leave you defenseless so I could finally make a move after all these years.”
You freeze and shut your eyes in response. He tuts and squeezes your neck, so you open your eyes again in fear. "Listen closely, (Y/N). You want to know the truth, right?”
“See your sister’s little cabin right there?” You squeal as Ayato grips your waist and sets you on his lap as if you weigh nothing. “That’s where she does her little experiments, no? Did she tell you what she was brewing that day they left you on the river?” You whimper in response, dreading whatever he will say next. You don’t want to believe it.
Ayato laughs, his hot breath ghosting your neck. You shiver in response. “That’s right. The aphrodisiac I’ve been pretending to ‘investigate’. I guess I still have to thank her.”
He embraces you closer, a hand snaking to cup your tits. You try to slap his hand away, but he grasps your wrists with his other hand. "Ah ah. You need to behave if you want me to tell you the whole story.”
“I have no use for your stupid stories,” You spat.
“Really now? Don’t you want to know what happened to your sister who wanted to seduce my father?”
You have no answer. All your life, you’ve always wondered if someone out there knew the truth.
He speaks before you say your answer. “Little one… no one poisoned my father.”
You stop. “What?”
Ayato hums. “It was an accident; he explored the woods one night and accidentally ventured too deep until he was lost, tired, and hungry. Fortunately, he saw a cabin. Your sister’s cabin. Unfortunately, your sister stupidly stored her toxic potions near the entrance door. With no light, he accidentally knocked down one strong enough to kill him. One small bottle was enough to take his life," He whispers. "It’s been ten years since then. Nobody knew but me… until I decided it was time for your clan to face the repercussions."
“That hag Danalise begged; you know. She asked that I spare the rest of you from punishment and take her instead. But I wanted nothing to do with that stupid wench.” He suddenly bites down your neck, and you yelp. He then caresses the hickey with his tongue to soothe the area. “But you, my dear (Y/N)…” He growls. “I wanted everything to do with you.”
You don’t want to believe it. Under the night sky, wetness dripped from your pussy to his thighs, reminding you that his thickness had been inside you twice without you knowing. This bewitching, powerful man is utterly, completely obsessed with you.
"So I became the sacrificial lamb?" You hiccupped. “Jokes on you, I’m the worst one. Any of my sisters could’ve been a better pick.” You press on. There’s nothing to lose anymore. Everyone you knew betrayed you.
"There’s that sad look on your face again." He gently takes your chin to face him. A look of adoration crosses his eyes and you look away, feeling vulnerable. “I picked you, (Y/N). Not any of them. You.”
"After my father's death, I was angry. I loathed your family. I instructed my people to watch out for you nymphs, especially those who dare go near our territory," He whispers, and you reel back. "Imagine my surprise when my people told me there was one naive enough to bathe alone in the forest. I had to go and see you for myself. Then I saw you… your body, naked as the night… your curves glistening in the moonlight."
“My decision was made from then on.” You don’t resist when his hand drops down to your pussy and starts to rub your folds. Your aching core is overstimulated and sensitive at the same time. “An eye for an eye. You shall be my wife, and I will do anything I can to ensure you’ll be mine.”
His hand stroking you, rubbing you in places that no one ever had, has your mind reeling from pleasure. In your calmer state, you’ve become less resistant to his touches, and your body starts to ache for more. Your face flushes at the sound of the slick between your thighs.
You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.
He grinds his palm to your aching clit, and you moan. “Ah—my lord!”
Ayato smirks and lets out a small laugh. “That’s a good girl. Feels good, doesn’t it?” He whispers, nibbling the shell of your ear. “I told you I won’t hurt you, sweetheart. Here, lie on the grass," He carefully puts you down on the cool land and spreads your legs.
You fluster at his ravenous gaze, staring intently at your dripping pussy. Laying bare in front of a man for the first time—your captor, no less—awakens something primal inside you. “Gods, look at you. Your pussy is pretty just like the rest of you. Couldn’t stop thinking about this every day for the past month since I first laid my eyes on it.”
Ayato presses his face flush against the inside of your thighs, face dangerously close to your core. You mewl– both in pleasure and shame of him seeing your intimate part up close. "Am I the first man to taste you, my love?"
When you refuse to look at him to answer, he chuckles lightheartedly, underneath, full of lust. "I would've known if you had lain with another, sweetheart. Anyone who attempted would’ve been executed and disappeared." You feel his arm tighten the grip around your waist, possessive and dominating. "Nymphs are famous for their sweet ambrosia, am I right?"
Ayato dived in and licked a strip of your core.
Your hands tighten on his pale blue tresses, unconsciously pulling him closer. "My lord, please stop! I don't want this– oh!"
"You taste exquisite, my darling," He growls. The man feels his chest emitting a growl, beastly and unlike anything he's felt before. "I could eat you up all night and never get tired. You’re the best meal I've ever had."
And he does, slurping and licking for what seems like forever while you moan and keel to his tongue. You're lost in the pleasure, unintendedly singing such beautiful high-pitched noises that sent arousal to his groin. His cock is painfully hard, and he wants to break you. He grips your thighs stronger and circles his tongue on your clit.
You feel a tightening coil inside your stomach. You pant. "My lord, please, I don't know what's happening,"
"Let go. Come," He says, and everything around you explodes in white-hot pleasure.
You were too dazed and disoriented to realize that you passed out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you woke up to Ayato pressing soft kisses on your shoulders. "Stay awake, my love. We're not yet done."
Too exhausted to protest, your whole body relaxes. Ayato sighs and kisses your hair, fingers trailing down your strands.
He's proud of the mess he made you.
He cups your breasts and you gasp, body succumbing to his touch. You think it's dangerous that you slowly become familiar and yearn for his touch, but it's not so bad either.
With every touch, you feel appreciated and worthy of attention.
Above all, you feel loved.
You look at him again, naked and skin glistening in the moonlight. His pale blue hair is loose, draping around his shoulder like shiny ribbons.
He's as handsome as the day you first saw him in the Estate.
"Oh?" Ayato teases. "You're the beautiful one here, sweetheart. I am merely your worshipper tonight."
He positions your thighs, opening them once again. You whine when he strokes your tender folds. Between your legs and his is his cock, huge and throbbing with dripping beads of precum. He takes your hand and lets you grip it gently. "You feel that, baby? This is only for you."
It twitches on your hand. You tug it, and he moans.
"It’s—it’s big," He kisses your burning cheeks. "Darling, don’t worry. I would never hurt you. Come, put your arms around me," He places your languid arms around him. Your hold on him is tense. "It's okay, baby. You can scratch me if it's painful; I won't get mad." Your lips melt into his again; your breaths become fogs mingling. "Ready?"
He puts the tip in, and you feel stinging the stretch of his cock that you arch your back and shudder. Your nails leave marks on his back. Ayato hisses. "Archons, you're so tight… Princess, are you okay?"
"Y-Yes," You mutter. "I think so. A-ah… you're so big, my lord."
Pride swells in his chest. "You made it that way. Tell me when you've adjusted, okay? I'm not going to move unless you tell me to," His eyes brimmed with fondness and affection that it made your heart skip a beat. A glimpse of what Ayato truly felt for you; aside from his sick obsession, he was a man who truly adored you and is willing to serve all your desires. "Stay still, doll. Don't worry about me. Try to relax."
After a few moments of shifting, you’ve become accustomed to his size. He fits perfectly. "I-I'm okay. Please… take me."
Ayato goes in deep, fully sheaths himself inside you, and he feels as if everything he’s ever experienced was made for this moment. "Gods, thank you so much for allowing me to do this, sweet girl. I love you so much. Always have."
And so he lost himself between you, the stars, and the mysteries of Chinju forest. He thinks about when he first saw you and swore to himself that you would be by his side and how this was finally the culmination of his dream. He thrusts wild as if memorizing the spots with the most of your pleasure and ram himself like a man driven mad by passion and lust.
"Ah, I should take you back to the Estate after this, no?" Ayato grunts when he feels you tighten around his length. Your spongy walls feel like paradise. "Make you my wife. It won't be easy, but I could clear your name, and your sisters will live peacefully," He reaches out to toy with your breasts, letting them mold on his hand. "I'll give you the best life I have to offer, (Y/N). You'll be mine, and I'll be yours. Just say yes."
He continues, murmuring ramblings that you don't even understand because of the rapture you're in. You feel the coil building up again, and Ayato does too, as he fucks into you faster and almost losing his grip. "Please, let's cum together. Be with me, sweetheart."
Both of you slowly lose yourselves and– "Ah!"
The two of you explode in pleasure, and only the forest hears your loving cries. Your fine nails break his porcelain skin, leaving a trail of red behind. Ayato holds you closer, molding perfectly into each other as you both chase your highs under the night sky. He kisses you again, and you return his efforts this time, finding that his lips are far softer and less suffocating when he’s gentle. You think feel a stray tear from his eyes escape. “Lord Ayato… please take me home.”
"Ah, I love you so much," He whispers. He looks at your afterglow, all dopey and tranquil. He thinks about the necklace you left in the Estate. He’ll give you much, much more. "I'll make a future with you."
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tojisprincesa · 7 months
Text
I'm your angel
fyodor dostoevsky x fem reader
a/n : This is my first piece of writing containing smut, so please be nice! English is not my first language & I don't know how to properly format my writing on here either so I apologize in advance. I would GREATLY appreciate feedback! Thank you for reading my work and hope you enjoy it :)
word count : 2.1k
summary : The devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful, because he's a fallen angel and he used to be god's favorite.
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✧ warnings : MDNI 18+ NSFW sexual content, rough sex, choking, breeding kink, hickeys, manhandling, possible objectification, degradation, dacryphilia, name calling, overstimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, belly budge, stalking, yandere behavior, virginity loss, manipulation, possessiveness, obsession, sacrilegious, creampies, mention of sex in a church, slight dubcon, betrayal, multiple orgasms, dumbification,  aphrodisiac serum usage, non consensual recording, praise, hints of aftercare, reader referred to as a dog, reader is gifted but its not used in this piece, not proof read. please tell me if I missed anything. MDNI 18+ NSFW
Inspired by:  I'm Your Man by Mitski
On a midnight walk home, alone you enjoyed the breeze winter had bestowed upon Yokohama. The moon was full and shining down on you. It was so cold out you wouldn't be surprised if you woke up to snow. You had stayed at the agency quite late finishing up some paperwork. Dazai had been no help, again. You hated working on a case with him simply due to the fact you were always stuck with ALL the paperwork. This case had been a big one, thanks to the decay of angels.
You loved your job truly, helping people was your purpose in life. Your ability was called “ Angel Wings”. It was a rare and very powerful ability, you were able to use what was essentially dark magic. But what gave your power its name was your majestically, beautiful wings. They looked just like an angel’s pure white wings but as fate would have it yours were as dark as the midnight sky. 
You were the only one in history with this gift who had been born with black wings and the only one who had access to dark magic as well. The people of Yokohama had rumored it to be a bad omen.
Your parents had left you abandoned on the steps of a church. As a baby you were taken in and grew up in the monastery. At 10 years old you had discovered a file the sisters had on you, only to discover your parents had left a note on you as a baby stating only god could save your soul, they called you an abomination more so, a fallen angel. It was at that age you were determined to use your powers for good. 
You’d like to believe you left that life behind at 18. But only god knew it plagued your thoughts day & night. And on this fateful night that's exactly what you thought about on your journey home. You were so lost in thought you didn't notice the cold amethyst eyes that tracked your every move. 
As you arrived home, all that your body wanted to do was rest. But you decided against that so you took a hot shower to relax your tense muscles. You deserved it after a long day at work. Unfortunately, it gave the devil watching you a perfect opportunity to set his trap. After your shower you decided to skip dinner due to your exhaustion and headed straight for bed. You had failed to notice the faint smell of  gas leaking from under your bed. That mistake would cost you your freedom, you had not only fallen in a deep slumber but in the jaws of his trap.
As you opened your eyes all you saw was the moonlight so scarce, you couldn't even make out the room’s layout. But you immediately recognized the ominous voice that spoke to you. Fyodor Dostoevsky. You and everyone in the agency had been warned of this man who was a demon, no more like the devil himself. Dazai had given a brief rundown of his encounters with such a foe, stating even he himself wasn't sure of his ultimate goal. He warned that no one could win against him nor his intelligence. He was always a step ahead. 
“Awake already? That gas should have knocked you out for a couple more hours..huh you're full of surprises angel” he spoke as he stepped into the light shining through the stained glass window. He looked like a god. 
“There’s no use yelling, it's just you & I in the middle of nowhere so don't get any ideas. I doubt even Dazai could find us here” 
It was as if he was reading your mind. You were left speechless whether it was out of fear or shock you weren't quite sure. But you couldn't let him know that. So you got straight to the point.
“What do you want from me?”
“It's quite simple really. I want your cooperation, your loyalty, and you.”
‘“ Me ?” 
“Yes. You, mой ангел”  [my angel]
He reached out to caress your cheek & your mind was racing. But the moment his ice cold fingers made contact with your warm rosy cheeks, it went blank. All you could focus on was Fyodor, his touch was all consuming. You found yourself leaning into him but the cushioned chair you were tied to did not allow much movement to your dismay. Your wings were aching due to the tight position you found yourself. 
His haunting eyes were staring right into your soul, you were convinced he could rid you of all the sins you've committed. You did not dare to look away. He then let out a chilling laughter while holding your chin. He said
“It's not like I am giving you an option dear. You will essentially be my dog. You will obey my every command and this will be the only warning I give you, do not test me. Your disobedience will not bring any harm to you, yourself but I cannot say the same for others at the agency. Nod, if you understand.``
You gave him a subtle nod. He had made it clear you had no choice but to obey him. An eerie smile stretched across his face, it sent chills down your spine. But the way he was speaking to you sent a pulsing heat to your core. It was embarrassing to have your mind and body reacting differently, to have them be at war.
Unbeknownst to you at the time, Fyodor had injected you with an aphrodisiac serum while you were passed out. He thought it would make you easier to manipulate. Not because he thought it would be difficult but because he had a strong desire to see you beg for him. The same way he had yearned for you all these months. Watching you from the shadows, studying you. You were the object of his desire. His obsession with you was sickening and unexplainable. He had to have you and now he does.You were his. He wouldn't. No. He couldn't hold back any longer. 
What shocked you like electricity running through your veins was Fyodor’s lips on yours. It was an intensely passionate kiss. You found yourself kissing him back instantly. The heat you felt between your legs had spread all over your body. His kiss had left like an ice cold sip of water in the blazing hot summer heat. You needed more to soothe this ache and he knew that. 
In an instant you were untied and swooped up being led towards a bed you hadn't even realized was there. As he set you down on the cool silky sheets he made his way down your body undressing you with kisses. You couldn't protest, not with this heat making you physically dizzy, you needed him and fast. It was at this moment you realize this must've been his doing but you didn't care, a part of you had wanted this. Deep down you wanted this handsome devil to have his way with you. You were his for the taking. 
 “Please” you moaned 
“ Please, what angel. Use your words” 
Fyodor was losing his mind at how simple this all was. You really were like a dog begging for its master.  
“ Please Fyodor.. I– I need you, inside me” You groaned frustrated with the heat building up and meeting its peak. 
“Such a greedy mutt I have” he whispered in your ear as he nipped it. The degradation heightened your arousal, he quickly undressed and pressed his body against yours while he sucked on your neck, marking you as his. Simultaneously, his fingers played with your clit and he applied pressure as he twisted and pulled on it. You moaned out in painful joy. 
“ More. I need more” you pleaded. He slapped your aching pussy, hard. 
“ Where are your manners stupid slut–” he felt what was like a heartbeat come from your cunt as he said that. 
“ Oh fuckk my angel is no saint, I will indulge you my dear” you felt tears escaping your eyes from how much you needed relief. Fyodor could tell from how wet you were alone. He was going to make sure only he could relieve this heat from you now and forever. He had done his research and found that you were a virgin. Not yet tainted, his angel had yet to fall from the favors of god.
He took his tip and rubbed it on your cunt giving you pleasure moaning out as he inserted himself fully. He did not give you time to adjust, not that you needed it despite it being your first time. Like a whore you screamed out in pleasurable pain. It was as if you were made for him, made to take him day and night. You were his to breed like a bitch in heat.
You looked between your legs to see the moonlight illuminating his pretty face perfectly. With the stained glass window behind him he might as well have been fucking you in a cathedral. He no longer looked like a god, he was your god, your savior. 
His touch was heavenly. His pace was relentless. In and out he went with harsh deep strokes he hit your weak spot every time. He left no part of you untouched. You felt like you were suffocating in pleasure. If sex was considered a sin out of wedlock, God could add it to your list of sinful deeds. You were born a sinner but you'll die a saint. You were sure Fyodor was god himself. Each touch he bestowed upon you, cleansed you. 
You whimpered as you got closer to finishing. He could tell by how your cunt squeezed  around him. 
“ My sweet angel, what would the detective agency say if they saw you now? Taking me so well, huh?” 
You couldn't help but squeeze him tighter and cry out to him. He leaned down and whispered 
“ Go ahead and say hello” as he gestured to his right. You had failed to notice a camera was recording you, capturing everything that was conspiring between the two of you.Your dignity was long gone at this point. You obey his command and let out a high pitched moan.
“ helloooo”
Fyodor groaned at the fact it wasn't even a command but you followed it nonetheless. Maybe training you wouldn't take long after all. 
“ Good girl, my good girl” 
He sped his pace up with harsher strokes while one hand  had went down to play with your clit and the other around your neck restricting your air flow. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head and your tongue was hanging out of your mouth. You were panting like a bitch. So he'd treat you like one. He let go of your throat only to grab you cheeks, squishing them together to spit in your mouth. This only brought the knot in your stomach closer to snapping. 
“ Please, Fyodor let me cum” you begged. And who was he to deny his pretty angel when she asked oh so nicely. 
“Look me in the eyes when you cum angel”
Looking at him and seeing his eyes full of lust and love. His devotion to you brought upon your unraveling. You moaned his name as you cummed causing him to reach his peak as well.
His cum had you filled up to the brim. You could feel it sloshing around inside you when he applied pressure on your stomach. He knew you weren't on any birth control but that didn't matter. He needed a successor anyways. He wanted to see you plump and round full of his seed. This was his way of permanently marking you from the inside out.
 So cock drunk you had lost count of the round you were on. You only realized a vast amount of time had passed due to the sun rising. The sheets were soaked from your juices mixed together. You had done unholy things. But you felt reborn as though you had been baptized in his cum. There wasn't a part of your body that wasn't covered in it by now.Your body had been pushed past your limits. Fyodor knew that and cleaned you up, he brought you water and ibuprofen. He caressed your hair holding you against his chest, laying down he praised you. 
“ You did well my angel” rewarding you with a kiss on top of your head. You smiled and succumbed to your exhausted state. 
You were now a fallen angel. And Fyodor was your god.
After you had given Fyodor all the information he needed with no protest. He rewarded you, like a pup. You had betrayed the agency like a man. One day you'll meet your judgment by the hounds and whether that be heaven or hell you didn't care as long as you had Fyodor by your side. For if he should leave you, you should die. You deserve it don't you? It had sealed your fate. You were positive no one would ever love you like your god again.
✧ ALL WRITING BELONGS TO ME. PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. ✧
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A Yandere! Black Butler x Opal! Reader (Steven Universe) would be cool with Vincent, Joker, and Dagger!
Just imagine their reaction to a very, very tall and giant creature who physically "appears" as a woman (Opal! Reader is sexless) with four pairs of arms who is not even human but a gem who accidentally time-traveled to the Victorian Era and is not able to unfuse (back to Pearl and Amethyst) till Opal! Reader can get back to their original timeline.
Even though Opal! Reader has lived for more than thousands of years and possesses knowledge of the Victorian Era of England, Opal! Reader’s appearance would set people off in immediate fear, and that just makes it harder for Opal! Reader to fit in. (Plus, finding a way home.)
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Opal Reader | Yandere Black Butler
You’re roughly fourteen feet tall, have four different arms, and a gem on your forehead and chest. In a world like theirs to any average person, you are a marvel to behold or exploit. Now depending on who has the means to contain you are the ones who have the chance to lull you into a demented love:
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Vincent Phantomhive
“You truly are a beauty. So beautiful I see no reason I shouldn’t hide you the way I have been so far.”
Finds you and finds a way to keep you trapped
Earns your trust while you’re in your own hidden place 
Eventually inviting you into  his home a trap all of his own+
With his connections to the supernatural, there’s bound to be something on par with your own power
Enough to become his exotic and caged beauty
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Joker
“It’d be a travesty not to share your wonder with a world as bland as this.”
Naturally, he makes you a part of his circus 
If only to brag to the world that it is he and he alone who owns your heart
He just has to make sure his violent misdeeds allude you
At least until he gets a grasp on the material you can’t break
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Dagger
“So you’re the latest freak, huh? Welcome to the club.”
At first, can’t help but be jealous
The attention you get the praise, even her cats seem to respect you more than her 
It isn’t until she finally talks with you that she’s fighting a blush 
You’re calming voice and relaxed personality is unexpected
So innocent yet full of wisdom
She feels disgusted by how often and how hot she gets when she spends nights thinking of you
Despite her promise, she’s not helping you get home not when this is the perfect circumstance to keep you by her side
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inkyajax · 1 year
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✩°。⋆ 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬! ⋆。°✩
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anonymous wrote: what roleplays do you think the genshin men prefer in bed? for the ones you think would like a roleplay ofc
characters: ajax/tartaglia, kamisato ayato, thoma, alhaitham
notes: just a quick disclaimer before we jump into this: obviously and of course, everything mentioned here is entirely 100% consensual and just for pretend. each situation would’ve been thoroughly discussed beforehand, with safety measures and a safeword in place. please heed the warnings and stay safe!!
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, consensual noncon + stockholm syndrome + kidnapping in ajax’s, mentions of spanking, slapping, and bondage in alhaitham’s, blood, hint of yandere in thoma’s, coercion in ayato’s, power imbalances that are taken advantage of/clear power dynamics (dom/sub)
words: 1.5k
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✧˖°. 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐱 | 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐚 .°˖✧
ajax is into anything that involves a hunter vs hunted, predator vs prey type vibe. it feels like a bit of a game to him, and it affords him those addictive thrill of the chase, bliss of the catch highs he craves so much. the sheer, potent power that surges through his veins, thick and dense and tingling, when he finally captures you, conquers you, when he finally wins, is downright intoxicating. it heightens his senses, gnaws on every nerve in his body until they’re frayed and raw and hypersensitive, keeping him awake and alert to every slight movement and shift.
he loves reenacting any version of little red riding hood versus the big bad wolf, enjoys stretching a scene out and playing a waiting game; slow and steady, cat and mouse, stealth and stalk until he strikes. the startled scream that claws its way up your throat the moment he finally pounces is always genuine—a pitchy, cracked, shrill little thing strangled by his teeth in your neck or his tongue down your throat—never exactly sure when he’s going to lunge and attack.
and, god, he’s sure he’ll never tire of that initial terror saturating your features, a gorgeous shock of fright slapped across your face—eyes wide, mouth gaped, shattered remnants of words trembling on your tongue and a gasp lacerating your throat—that morphs, mollifies, only a few moments later, into a sort of delirious anticipation as realization rings in your brain. 
that look never fades, never dims or dulls for even a second, as you pretend cry and scream and shove and kick, as you squirm and struggle in the tangle of his strong arms and beat little fists against his broad chest, as you tug and heave at the restraints bounding you to your shared bed, rope and metal chewing into the thin, delicate flesh of your wrists.
it doesn’t break the immersion, though, doesn’t ruin the scene or deaden the enthusiasm, because it only demonstrates that you’re enjoying it just as much as he is—the usual narrative he likes to play to himself throughout this scenario—only further works to prove that you want it just as badly as he does, no matter what whimpered protests and weeped out insults are spilling from your lips. because it exists within you; something innate, something inherent, a instinctive need to be taken care of, owned, controlled by your captor.
and throughout it all, his eyes are alight with excitement, bright and brilliant and beautifully blue, a breathless smile, sharp edges tinged with exhilaration, stretched over his cheeks while an aura of authority swathes his form; a regal cloak that glows violet, barely contained raw energy that snarls and snaps like bolts of amethyst lightning, shuddering off of him in wavering ripples.
✧˖°. 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 .°˖✧
ayato likes playing mind games (to him, that’s half the fun!) and he likes being in control. when it comes to roleplays, he’d be most interested in the classic, golden age hollywood star x their devoted fan, where he is the star and you are the fan. however, instead of the fan pursuing the object of their affection, obsessive and urgent in nature, ayato flips this on its head, with the hollywood star taking advantage of the shy, smitten fan. he loves the corrupt, disgusting essence of it—the sleaziness, the coercion, the inherent and irrevocable power imbalance exerted over the bashful, helpless submissive—it’s all so deliciously depraved, and there are so many ways he can contort and coil this situation to suit and serve his needs. 
it works well, because you are already so timid, so sweet, so docile and doe-eyed and desperate to please, constantly and consistently hanging on his every word, flowing from his lips like dark, decadent chocolate; smooth and rich and sinful. they’re sentiments that have your mouth dropping open eagerly, tongue unfurling—sloppy and messy in its haste—to let the letters drizzle on your tastebuds, a satiny syrup that coats the muscle, thick and sticky and so sweet it stings your teeth,depositing trace notes of a bitter twinge characteristic of artificial sugar that linger long after the confection has faded.
the amount of effort he puts into your roleplay sessions is nothing short of admirable, and he takes the whole thing very seriously. in his trademark meticulous and dedicated style, he plans every single detail, assembling full costumes (with props, of course) for the both of you, in addition to taking the time to hash out the entire situation with you, complete with a full narrative: where and how the two of you met, and how he managed to get access to you. past scenarios include at the premiere for one of his newest films; through previously exchanged fan letters and love notes that grew with startling frequency, length and intensity until he just had to meet you; you being a screenwriter or a PA on set who just so happens to have a huge crush on the lead actor—the variations on this one dynamic are endless! ayato isn’t beyond renting out actual locations for the two of you to conduct your roleplay scenes in, too—old movie houses and extravagant ballrooms and expensive hotel suites—because every aspect must be absolutely perfect. 
✧˖°. 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚 .°˖✧
i honestly don’t think thoma would be too into roleplaying himself/on his own, but as a service dom i think he’d absolutely give it a shot for you, because he genuinely wants to please you, wants you to have a good time and enjoy yourself, wants to indulge you in all of your fantasies and desires, and he gets satisfaction and gratification from giving you what you want. with that being said, his favourite roleplay would probably be royalty x servant, where you are the royalty and he is your loyal but depraved servant. the scene would always begin, predictably, with you in a position of authority and dominance and thoma doing whatever you ask—you’re so cute when he gives you permission to be the boss—but it would quickly devolve as hazy, intoxicating lust compels your sweet, obedient servant, cloaking his judgement and clouding his vision and consuming his receptors. it overrides his rational thought, infects his bones, his blood, his brain until there’s barely any of him left anymore, entirely absorbed by the carnality, possessed and out of control. and, like ajax, he always savours that sweet, surprised little gasp huffed into his mouth when he’s finally had enough, when he can’t take it anymore, when he must fucking do something about it.
but what thoma really loves in this scenario is the progression, the way that hedonistic tension builds and builds and builds with each order uttered from your lips until it’s overbearing, overwhelming, overflowing; until it forces a switch, a flip, corroding any trusses of restraint and then devouring his character whole, rendering him a complete slave to his desire. the details are different every time—what the final request is that makes him truly snap, how long he can manage to hold out, how he fractures and splinters under the weight of his ardour and how he ravishes you in response, etc—entirely dependant on the evolution of the scene itself and thoma’s mood on that current day. it’s this unpredictability that makes it truly enthralling, the unknowing and the uncertainty of how it’s all going to play out this time that genuinely enraptures him, that sparks a certain type of voracity in his tummy, a gnawing, enthusiastic curiosity that can never fully be quenched.
✧˖°. 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 .°˖✧
alhaitham is into pretty much anything that has to do with the misuse and abuse of authority. his favourite is, of course, professor x student, but he’s also interested in police officer x convict, boss x employee/secretary, and doctor x nurse—anything that involves an inherent position of power is being taken advantage of, anything that involves an intrinsic and permanent power imbalance being twisted and tooled to the superior’s benefit. roleplay situations such as these allow for infinite creativity and demand a certain level of intelligence, of cleverness, in order to be pulled off properly and satisfactorily. 
it’s his favourite when you get snarky with him, saucy and snappy and resistant to his demands, challenging the limits and boundaries of this power dynamic and gifting him sufficient reason to punish, to exert that power and authority and (temporarily) tame his brat back into their rightful submissive place. props are a must with alhaitham, and he enjoys using them to deliver this punishment and/or to restrain you—metersticks, heavy books, and canes that double as batons used to spank you, each procuring a mosaic of interesting swollen marks on your ass; wooden tongue depressors used to flick and slap your nipples and your cheeks, leaving thick, cylinder shaped welts across your flesh; metal handcuffs and expensive silk neckties used to bound and bind you, cutting into the skin of your wrists and creating the prettiest bracelets of sticky scarlet, steadily oozing from thin splices, that will crust and dry in tiny mountains of ruby.
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What if the Toy Animatronic Crystal Gems had a nightguard S/O
Toy Pearl
Toy Steven
Toy Connie
Toy Sadie
Toy Ruby and Sapphire
Toy Lapis
Toy Peridot
Toy Bismuth
Toy Amethyst
tygfxvc
They would be mostly like they’re regular counter parts. But more playful not delusional most likely not a willing to kill perhaps someone like bismuth will be. More normalish pearl while less possessive and manipulative will still be a yandere and Steven well… he’ll be Steven alright rubie and sapphire already hav there own thing going on peridot will be more forthcoming lapis will be less sadistic and I’m not sure about Sadie and Connie
sorry that this is so short I’m just sliding back into tumblr at the moment
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spacexseven · 1 year
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I want a pathetic fyodor, one who just, gets down on his knees and gives his prayers. A stinky rat
i think we all want to see fyodor on his knees :^ part of the god reader au ^^ reader is gn but referred to as 'lord' here...cos idk what else to use
cw: yandere themes
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"everything is going according to plan," he whispers, head hung low. for someone who claimed he was of weak constitution, fyodor was surprisingly sturdy on his knees, not trembling for a moment despite being here for almost an hour now in silence.
"there were a few...minor infractions, but the agency has been successfully framed and the sky casino is doing better than expected," your breath stilled for a moment, "for all this, i only have you to thank for that, my lord. thank you for gracing this humble servant of yours with your blessing."
despite how he has you seated on a literal throne, you can't help but wonder if this was merely an illusion of control that he was casting over you. but even for fyodor, wasn't this too long of a play? you had been worshiped before, a long time ago, but this level of reverence, this intense desire he had...a glimpse of amethyst peers up at you from below dark eyelashes, an unnerving light gleaming from the depths. and there it was again—unmistakable, unyielding devotion. it was so starved that it simultaneously frightened and mesmerized you. you almost didn't want him to look away. you had only locked eyes for mere moments before he lowered his quickly, almost like he was frightened.
the silence stretches. was he waiting for a response? since the day he called you here, placed you upon your magnificent throne, and bowed at your feet with a wretched cry of vengeance, you had never uttered a word to him. it wouldn't change even now.
"i do not expect you to be satisfied," he exhales after a long, painfully silent minute, "there is still much to be done. but i swear i will carry out your will no matter what it takes."
the sight was almost pitiful, him on his knees and head lowered pathetically. you considered, briefly, bestowing upon him some form of acknowledgment. something for him to look up at, eyes wide for a moment, only for his charming, characteristic smile to appear, like the first time you met him. against your better judgement, perhaps, you move your hand to cup his cheek, forcing him to look up. he seemingly melts with a low sigh, like you had relieved him of a decade of torment. you wondered if your touch was the salvation he often spoke of. emboldened by your initiation, fyodor moves to rest his head on your lap.
"thank you," a strange noise escapes him, and he shudders. it's not out of fear, you can tell, but something more... pleasurable, "i am not worthy..."
he moves again until his dry lips graze the palm of your hand, and suddenly, it all feels too real—his soft hair brushing your wrists, his warm breath contrasting the cold room—"i can only pray that you continue to bless me with your unwavering guidance, and let me carry out your divine will." his last words echo in the room, long after he's gone, "i will not rest until you stand upon the corpses of those who scorned you."
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mydearsteven · 1 year
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You have no idea how much I love you steven x reader x pink steven♥︎ if you can, would mind doing a yandere version? It's okay if you can't
Stay werid! ♡♡♡
Double Stevens HC (Yandere Ver.)
featuring: Teen!Steven(yandere) x Reader x Pink Steven(yandere)
tw(s): manipulations
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for starters, you’ve got a lot in your hands if they split up.
and that’s exactly what they did, now you have two Stevens that’ll protect you at all costs.
have ATLEAST one of them around you at all times, mainly Steve(Pink Steven) though while Steven get all of little homeschool works done.
wouldn’t get all violent if no one wants to take you away from them.
if someone has set their eyes on you, usually it was Steve who took care of it while Steven distracts you.
they wouldn’t even DARE to lay a hand on you, they don’t want to lose anyone anymore.
the only thing they do is manipulate you so that you starts to drift away from others and go with them.
if any of the gems do tell you that Steven is ‘dangerous’ he’ll tell them to not disturb his work. And he’ll manipulate you back to never trust the gems.
Amethyst has confronted Steven about his obsessive behavior and told that Pearl used to do that to his mom, so why can’t he? he loves you.
the only ones they tolerates to see you are the gems, Connie, and Lion.
they don’t really trust Connie but she’s their bestfriend so its fine. Hopefully.
they’ve convinced you that you’re nobody and that they’re your savior, and now you owed him and on how to pay it is that you’ve got to always be by their side.
pretty easy you thought, what you don’t know is that they’ll keep you forever in their invisible prison of lies and manipulation.
Steven would probably felt kinda bad that he’s trapping you but Steve will convince him that what they’re doing is the right thing.
if you went against their ideology, they’ll(Steven) throw a tantrum and cry there so that you’ll feel bad and eventually caves in.
overall, very toxic but not really violent unless anyone cross the lines that Steven and Steve has set.
you’ll feel useless and they’re the only ones who could save you and that they’ll give you all you need.
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little-mouse-gardens · 4 months
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A party for the goblin king
Yan fae king future Donnie x reader
Here is a little blurb I wrote based on my yandere fae king turtles au. Just a little idea that popped up in my mind while I was was listening to *cough* crane wives song curses *cough* and I couldn’t resist the urge to let my brain-rot run wild.
Tagging @lexiechr, @souperwrites, @radicallxser and @saltydoesstuff for feeding into my brainrot for these silly fellas >:3
Note : Let me know if there’s any spelling errors (autocorrect currently hates me for some reason)
Tw : Mentions of violence, alcohol, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kidnapping (I do not condone this behavior in real life. this is only for entertainment purposes only), slightly suggestive???
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Nothing about this place felt safe to you.
Nothing at all.
The warmth of the fire pit and torches. The glow of lanterns around the courtyard filled with so many types of goblin like fae running around partying and celebrating.
The savory scents of roasted meats and vegetables or the sugary scents of pastries of all kinds wafting into the air
Sounds of joyful music, laughter and the occasional cheering or rather yelling over the games being hosted down below from where you were seated.
All of it should have made you feel warm, safe or welcome.
However it was anything but welcoming to you. Considering you were currently seated in the lap of the being who’d been tormenting your cottage and kidnapped you the second those protective seals had been broken.
The horror of getting dragged into the woods over his shoulder from the safety of your home still angers you even in this moment.
Memories of pushing against him as he whispered sweet promises of an eternity of love and laughter by his side still echoed in your mind.
Absentmindedly messing with the hem of the soft silk robes he’d clothed you in and occasionally messing with the necklace of amethyst beads he’d claimed to have hand carved and strung himself while you angrily contemplated your circumstances.
What you wouldn’t give to be away from him and this nightmare you’d fallen into by chance. Just one smack to his smug face would quell that rage burning inside you.
Speaking of your captor, Donatello seemed to pick up on this change in your mood. His eyes moving away from the party to look at his beloved resting against him. Every fiber of his been fighting the urge to just start peppering kisses all across your body.
Slowly, he shifted you around in his hold so you were sitting sideways. His hand gently coming up to cup your chin and tilt your head to face him.
“something the matter, dearest?” He asked, his tridactyl hands slowly tracing patterns and shapes across your back and shoulders. The goblet of wine he’d been sipping and the letters of congratulations from his goblin subjects to him and his new spouse settled to the side on a table, “you seem distant? Is the music not to your liking? I did made sure the musicians learned your favorite songs”
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at the soft shelled terrapins smug tone. Shifting around uncomfortably in his hold to try and have some semblance of space between you and him.
“No, everything’s fine” you replied as casually as possible, turning your head away so you didn’t have to lock eyes with him. though a hint of your nervousness crept through that facade you held, “I’m just a little tired is all. This party’s been going on for what? Like three hours now?”
Donnie let out a deep chuckle at your reply. Your efforts to distance yourself from him and the twinge of anxiety creeping into your voice not going unnoticed by his keen senses.
Shifting you around again in his embrace so you were facing him, he reached a hand up to mess with the flowers neatly styled into your hair.
“Now, my darling” he crooned, slowly twirling a strand of your hair in his hand. The action combined with that low purr in his voice making warmth rise to your cheeks. A thought in the back of your mind screaming to run yet your body would not move an inch.
That smug smirk of his seemed to compliment that soft loving yet possessive look in those dark eyes that. Eyes that practically stared into your soul everytime they looked at you as he gazed at you. His free hand making sure you were securely seated across his lap, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, “try to enjoy the evening, Hmmm? After all I spent a very, very, very, that’s three verys, long time planning for this celebration of our love. Your allowed to relax you know”
Before you could even ask how on earth you were supposed to enjoy this when he kidnapped you and put you through hell, he leaned in and pressed a tender yet passionate kiss to your lips.
His beak cold against your skin as you sat there wide eyed and frozen in surprise. A soft smile gracing his face as he felt your muscles relax slightly. Feeling his hands come up and rest on the back of your head when he pulled you closer to him. Basking in the softness of your lips and the scent of flowers still clinging to your skin from the bath.
Eventually, he pulled away to let you breathe. A small yelp of surprise escaping you when he teasingly nipped at your bottom lip, eliciting a breathy chuckle from him.
Resting his elbow on the arm rest of his throne and propping his head up with his hand. A look of pure adoration in his eyes that both frightened you and made your heart flutter ever so slightly.
“I love you, my dear” he murmured, his voice soft and eyes half lidded. tracing a heart across your neck with his free hand. his guilded claws brushing against your skin that you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be affectionate or a subtle reminder that you’d belong to him.
“so, so much” he murmured, his arm coming to wrap around your waist to press your frame against his plastron. The party becoming more of a blur as you quietly rested in his embrace. Peppering kisses across your head as you fought back the urge to push against him.
Looking back on it?
Maybe you should have just cut your losses and moved when you and the chance.
Now you dance and shed your tears in the loving but possessive arms of the goblin king.
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sweetiecutie · 1 year
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Pairing: dark! Sirius Black x fem! Reader
Warnings: obsessive behavior, yandere themes, stalking, blackmail(?), toxic behavior, oc as reader’s best friend but it’s really brief
A/n: it’s Friday 13th so here have some dark content. Im really into mood for yandere content, so there will be more💖
You thanked every possible goddess and greater mind existing as you stomped out of your detention, feeling positively angry and exhausted. You were hungry due to skipping today’s dinner, your arms hurt from continuous polishing of old Hogwarts armours, your head was buzzing with heavy thoughts only adding to your sour mood.
You’ve always liked professor Flitwick - him not only being a head of your house, but an excellent teacher and great person in general only made your respect towards him grow bigger with every day. But detentions with him were pure nightmare - meticulous and boring work, caused, in your case, by you being late with handing in your charms homework on time for nth time.
It was already past midnight and the only thing you wanted was to get into your warm cosy bed, hide under your fluffy blanket and black out for the rest of the night, getting well-deserved sleep.
You were making your way hurriedly down the dark Hogwarts halls, that looked strangely hostile and unwelcoming in a silver moonlight pouring in through numerous paned windows. You couldn’t help but constantly look behind, not being able to shrug off a feeling of being closely watched, just to find no one around, as expected in such a late hour.
Just a bit. Just a bit more and you’d be in the safety of Ravenclaw common room, welcomed by dying fire and fluorescent stars glued to the ceiling by generations of ravenclaws.
And just as you let your guard down, you felt a pair of strong hands grabbing you by your shoulders, turning you around swiftly so that your back was pressed tightly against a cold stone wall of a castle, your throat constricting in fright, not allowing a single sound to escape your lips.
And there he was, standing in front of you in all of his beauty - hogwarts playboy and your personal nightmare - Sirius Orion Black. He was grinning his usual, perfectly practiced, smile down at your shrinking form, and even despite recognizing the person cornering you your whole body only tensed impossibly more.
- Lovely to see you here, Y/n, - black-haired purred mere inches apart from your face, his dark eyes, glistening in a dim moonlight, were ogling you like a predator getting ready to pounce on an innocent lamb.
- Don’t act as if you weren’t stalking me all this time, you creep, - you spat out, anger mixed with revulsion and fear was bubbling underneath your skin. Black tutted at your bitter words, one hand coming to caress the side of your face with his knuckles, all wounded and rough from constant fights he was picking up. You seemed to regain a little control over your own body, your hands coming to boy’s broad chest in an attempt to push him off, but to no avail - Sirius didn’t budge, but only came closer, caging your smaller body under his towering height.
- Now, now, my dearest. Words can hurt, you know? - black-haired uttered in feigned offence, jutting his lips out like an upset child, but you knew better than all of that. You struggled against him once more, but fruitless - your muscles were too tired and weak after long hours or physical work, and Sirius was simply way bigger and stronger than you.
- What do you want from me, Black? - you inquired exasperatedly, voice seething with poison.
Sirius’ perfect eyebrows furrowed up a bit, an expression of fake hurt dissolving quickly and you could see that your question really did surprise him. The hand that was previously tenderly stroking your cheek stopped in its tracks. You could see anger brooding in his amethyst eyes, mad at you using his last name despite him asking you multiple times to refer to him with his first name instead.
- What do you mean? Y/n, we haven’t seen each other the whole day, all of our classes were separate, and this bloody detention of yours! Of course I’m here to see you, what else does it look like? - Sirius said all of that with such fierce, that you knew this time he was really offended by your question, as if the logic behind all of his actions was dead obvious.
- And I don’t want to see you. Leave. Me. Alone, - you seethed at him, sharply accentuating your last words with long pauses, looking him straight in the eyes.
You watched as Sirius’ jaw clenching tightly. The hand retrieved from your cheek, balling into a heavy fist; a moment later it hit on a stone wall mere centimeters next to your head with a dull thump, strength of the impact making cold stone of the wall behind you vibrate slightly. You jolted harshly at that, inhaling sharply through your nose; you didn’t dare to blink, too afraid to let your eyes off this, this animal - ferocious and insane, driven by his instincts and emotions only, and you were trapped right inside his claws.
A moment of silence stretched uncomfortably, with Sirius glaring down at your shrinking form and you trying your best not to break under the pressure of his heavy gaze.
- It’s her, isn’t it? That bitch Lena. She’s turning you against me, putting all that bullshit in your head? - Sirius’ chest thrummed with dry humorless chuckle, his eyes colder than ice.
You felt as if ground was swept right from beneath your feet, your chest swelling with sticky horror. No, not her. Not your best friend. Sirius was purely insane, deeply delusional in every aspect of you. He’ll simply kill her. Or injure her so badly, her chances to live would be near to zero. And he had more than enough money, influence and wit to make it seem as if he never had to do anything with such a ‘terrible accident’. You already knew that, after that Hufflepuff boy that obviously fancied you went missing one day, Sirius’ knuckles raw with fresh cuts and bruises.
- N-no, Sirius, wait, - you stammered out, hands instinctively flying up to rest on his shoulders, his muscles tense under your touch. Your mind was racing with a speed of sound as you tried to find a way out of this horrible situation, to keep Lena and yourself safe.
Sirius was watching you with his scrutinizing cold eyes, fury etched on his sharp features. You felt your eyes sting with tears of panic as you stammered out squeaky:
- S-She al-lways approved of y-you, Siri. Always, - you saw his stony expression crack slightly after hearing you use the nickname, your body shuddering intensely, panic was making it hard to breathe. It was a straight up lie - Lena saw right through Sirius’ insanity, warning you to stay as far as possible from him. But that didn’t matter, you’d do anything just to keep your best friend safe.
Sirius’ fist unclenched, coming to cradle your nape; expecting expression etched on his face encouraged you to go further.
- I… I was just playing. R-really, how could you eat that, huh? - you sputter out hastily, stumbling over your words and forcing a chuckle out, it came out way too tense to sound natural. But Sirius seemed to follow through everything you’ve said as soon as next words left your trembling lips:
- Of course I’m glad to see you.
His lips stretched in a wide grin, so brilliant it seemed to lighten up a thick darkness of a hall. His thumb came to rub small circles into the skin of your jaw; his other hand that was previously propping Sirius’ heavy body next to a wall came to rest on you waist, drawing you in until your bodies were pressed tightly against each other, you could feel heat radiating off of black-haired even despite numerous layers of clothing.
- You little minx, really got me here, - he murmured softly, eyes fixated upon your face. It took everything in you to force a smile onto your lips, your hands were trembling ferociously, still laying upon boy’s broad shoulders.
Sirius ducked down, rubbing your noses affectionately before sealing his lips with yours, his eyes fluttering closed, lost in euphoria, meanwhile you couldn’t bring yourself to even blink, watching his every move with great caution. His hand resting on the back of your head felt extremely heavy and a strong scent of his undoubtedly expensive cologne made you nauseous - it felt like you could pass out at any moment.
Sirius broke away shortly after, leaving a last small peck on your numb lips. It was the first time he went as far as actually kissing you, and you were terrified to even think of how long it’d take until he tries anything more heated than pressing his lips against yours for a few long seconds. Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.
- Siri, I’m really tired. Detention was pure hell and I need some sleep, - you uttered quietly, his shoulders slumping slightly in disappointment underneath your palms, but he nodded his head in agreement.
- Yeah, right. Let’s get you to bed then, princess? - Black said with a cheeky grin stretching his soft (now you knew) lips. His hands left your body just to grab one of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers together, leading his way up to the Ravenclaw tower.
Making it up the spiral staircase and uttering a right answer to the metal raven upon heavy door, you looked up at Sirius just to find him already beaming down at you. His free hand came to cup your jaw, bringing your face closer to his - hot lips pressed to your forehead, leaving a chaste kiss on your unnaturally cold skin. He broke away rather reluctantly, winking down at you:
- Sleep tight, sweetness. See you tomorrow, - and with that you departed, slamming a heavy door shut behind you.
Standing in a huge circular room crammed with countless books and parchments, with welcoming fire cracking joyfully and fluorescent stars twinkling down at you - you felt utterly and wholly petrified. Cold sweat was seeping through the soft cotton of your uniform shirt on your back, heart pummeling at the huge surge of adrenaline running through your veins, knees trembling ferociously, struggling to keep your body up.
And it was only now that the realization fully sank in, realization of how deep you got yourself into trouble in your desperate attempt to ensure your best friend’s safety, now seeing absolutely no way out of Sirius’ tight clutches.
Part 2🖤
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