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#yandere iron man imagine
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Can you do platonic yandere pepper x reader where the reader has some sort of illness? I hope you're okay with writing this type of fic if not just ignore it <3333
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Overcome With Worry
Pepper was beyond worried at this point, she was beside herself with anxiety regarding your condition. What she and everyone else had just assumed was you coming down with the flu had since turned into something much more severe. You should have already been getting back to feeling better days ago, back to your usual self, but here you still were; bedridden and out of commission.
Pepper felt completely helpless in what to do to ease your debilitating situation. Seeing you like this made her heart clench and her stomach sink.
You were groggy and barely coherent, at least that is when you were awake, but the majority of the time you spent sleeping the day away. At first, she was glad, hopeful that sleeping it off would help to make you feel better and regain some of the energy you’d lost ever since this knocked you off your feet. But within the last few days she’d been worrying over how much sleeping you were doing. You slept most of the day, so much so that there were a few occasions Pepper felt the need to check your pulse just to make sure you were in fact okay and still here with her.
Of course, she and Tony had hooked you up with a heart monitor just to thoroughly keep an eye on you and any slight change there might be once things took a turn for the worse. But even that didn’t bring Pepper any relief, if anything it only added to her anxiety. She wouldn’t leave your side for long or at all really, whether you were awake or not, she stayed with you. She would be sat watching the heart monitor, listening to the consistent beeping. The slightest delay her ears picked up had her own heart racing, it may have even briefly stopped ones or twice.
To say Pepper was a mess would be an understatement. She was glued to your side and if she wasn’t right next to you then she was still in the same room with you at the very least but she was never anything but an arms length away from you in case you needed her. She even took to sleeping in what had become your makeshift hospital room, not that she does much sleeping. She’s too preoccupied watching over you after all.
Even Tony has tried to get her to at the very least take a nap here and there, or to even just eat or drink something but to no avail. What if you need her while she’s asleep? What if something happens and your condition worsens? What if, god forbid, your heart stops and she just slept through it? How could she possibly eat when you were barely keeping anything down? How could she take time away from worrying about you? It’s the only thing she could do.
As much as she knows it’s counterintuitive, Pepper can’t help but devote herself completely to caring for and focusing on you, putting her own health and needs on the back burner. It took Tony having to give her a reality check that if she doesn’t take care of herself then how can she possibly take care of you properly, especially when you need her most. It was more than enough to make her realize that she does need to put some effort back into herself again if she wants to be there for you.
……
Looking adoringly at your peaceful sleeping face while you were laid on her lap, Pepper clutched your hand in one of her own. It was warm, you were warm. She brought it up to her lips to press a lingering kiss to it. Her lips felt cool against your clammy skin. The consistent fever from the last few days had finally subsided resulting in you being far more coherent and aware then you had been since you first fell ill.
You were even staying awake longer, not sleeping the day away nearly as much as you had been. You had more energy then she’d seen you have all throughout this whole ordeal. It seemed like you were finally feeling better.
The two of you had just been watching a movie, one of your favorites. It was a nostalgic one you had been wanting to watch since you hadn’t been feeling well but would inevitably end up sleeping through it whenever Pepper would turn it on for you and this time was no different. Although you did end up watching a good majority of it this time around, adding to the thought that you were doing a lot better than you had been for the last while.
The movie had been over for a while now but Pepper couldn’t bring herself to move when you looked so comfortable. One second you had been wide awake and immersed in what was happening on screen, the next you were fast asleep in her lap. So, she had been keeping herself occupied by playing with your hair, braiding it it or at least twirling and twisting here and there before going back to stroking it like she had been from the start.
She had been feeling much more at ease since you had been behaving more like your usual self. You were a little clingy, the kind of clinginess that comes with not feeling well, but she wasn’t complaining. If anything she happily welcomed it. It was nice now that things seemed to have calmed down some compared to how they were. But as relieved as Pepper was becoming, she couldn’t help but still feel some amount of anxiety creeping around within her. She desperately hopes that you are on the mend and that this isn’t too good to be true, ending up with you falling back into the condition you’ve been in for the last month, almost two months.
No matter what, whether it was just her worries getting the better of her or not, Pepper would be here for you without question. Through the good and the bad, she was going to stay by your side and take care of you.
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bluemoondust · 2 years
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Hi can I request Yan!Venom/Eddie Brock and Yan!Tony Stark liking the same female s/o?
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♡Tony Stark and Eddie Brock (+Venom)♡ — Liking the Same Darling
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Note: Check out my other blog, @blacklunardice for more yandere Marvel stuff!
Warning(s): Possessive Behavior, Mentions of Paranoia (from Tony), Mentions of Threats/Death (from Venom), Slight Manipulation, Overprotective Behavior
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The two (three) don't really cross paths with one another for a good while, given their occupations and locations. Which is good because utter chaos would ensue when they all clash and figure out that they all are infatuated with the same person. A good portion of time that is peaceful (if you can even call it that given who you're dealing with) before the coming storm. The contrasting personalities and possessiveness (mostly coming from Tony and Venom) will be the sole reason why they can't cooperate or get along. So it's good to appreciate any amount of time before they all officially meet.
On one end, there is Tony: the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist who is also Iron Man. Some might say he would have the advantage in this situation because of those titles. As mentioned before in his headcanons, he is not very fond of you having people around who are considered to be 'too close' to you. It sets off his paranoia and he hates that. So imagine this: you are good friends with Eddie Brock and Tony knows this. He automatically does not like Eddie at all. He is aware that you have your fair share of friends, yes, but Eddie seems to be a different case considering that it looks to be that you spend more time with the journalist than any of your other friends. This gets under Tony's skin.
Then on the other end is Eddie and Venom: vigilantes (sort of) who is deemed as a stubborn man with his own set of morals. Eddie is a chill guy when it comes to you hanging out with friends; doesn't really bother him. It did bother Venom, however, as he grew possessive over you. He even pondered on the idea of biting off that one person's head off when he caught sight of them potentially flirting with you. Of course Eddie shut that idea down, not wanting to upset you, but knew that the person needed to be dealt with some way... Just not immediate murder unless they attempt to hurt you in any way.
Over the course of time, his symbiote companion had taken notice of someone else's presence upon you. Says there's a faint scent of them lingering onto you, but Eddie figures that it's that big shot you've been acquainted with. He's heard some things about him in conversation with you, and damn did hearing the details about this guy make his skin crawl. Eddie knows that he can't offer you too much, but it really eats at him when it becomes painfully obvious. What sets him off a little more is how you spend time with this man alone. Venom of course suggests tracking this guy down, which Eddie obliges to. It's only to make sure the man you work with is not trying anything at all.
In the situation where the two of them do meet through you, the tension is thick. Tony is passive aggressive in conversation with Eddie, jokingly throwing jabs at him. Your close friend tries to laugh it off so you don't suspect his unease and stiff attitude. All the while Venom's growls can be heard in the back of his head. All three of them already felt like the other was bad news, but now it just escalated to silent hostility. To which they made sure you wouldn't notice of course.
Tony's method of winning your affections, as mentioned before, is ensuring you receive the best out of life. He is a man who loves seeing you happy and absolutely thrives on the fact that he is the cause of that. One thing he's noticed about your friendship with Eddie is the fact that he is the shoulder you'd cry on. It irks Tony. So... Why can't he be that as well? He always makes it a reminder to you that whatever is on your mind, you don't have to hesitate in talking to him about it. But oh, if Tony ever sees hints of what Eddie is hiding... He'll use that to his advantage. He will absolutely share his concerns over your friend and his intentions. Tony speaks about how shady he seems and should you mention how the two of you are close friends, Tony can just say that a close friend could always just back stab you. It's more likely them than a stranger.
Eddie on the other hand, immediately expresses his concerns about Tony. That guy is extremely haughty, which he absolutely hates. What if he's just using you? What if he's one of those people who just kidnap people for their sick little games (you comment how he's been seeing that one movie too many times...)? Venom just wants to straight up get things over with, but Eddie assures the symbiote that they'll get to that. If you're insistent on keeping tabs with Stark, he won't argue further, but he does want to be around when you do go see Tony. It's only because he deeply cares for your safety. If he can't be there, Eddie lets it be known that if anything happens, you need to call him immediately and he'll be there.
The three have their fair share of flaws too, but also advantages. They're all waiting for the other to slip up in some way and that will let them know the next move to make. Finally putting down the facade and engaging in a full on confrontation. You could try to stop things, but really, it's up to you how things will be decided.
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meiwroo · 2 years
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Scenario: Remember the Stark Foundation Presentation Tony did at the beginning(?) of Civil War where he pauses at Pepper’s name? I had that scene in mind. I imagine Tony being fixated with trying to prove his worth to the reader. He needs their reassurance to live. He wouldn’t survive being abandoned by them. Tony’s mental health probably hadn’t been good up until that point, and the mental image of his father overlaid over the reader’s features was the last straw that sent him spiraling.
Tony Stark knows he has nothing to prove to you. 
He has the adoration, the envy of millions. 
He is what people wish they could be.
But for a split second, out of a crowd of thousand adoring eyes, your eyes—your disapproval is enough to make him freeze. He can see Howard Stark. 
It ignites his obsession with trying please you. 
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yandereaffections · 2 years
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Yandere Tony Stark with an assassin darling.
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Tony would figure it out rather quickly, maybe not as fast as he admits to though, he blames it on the way you easily distract him with the way you move and the lingering touches in an attempt to get closer to the millionaire.
He wouldn't be afraid to make you aware of what he knows about you either, the moment he fell for your mysterious self there was no way he wasn't going to scavenge for in depth information, tony enjoys the look of pure shock on your face when the fact he's on higher ground becomes clear to you
There's nothing better to him than a confident opponent, even better when you stand there shocked unsure of your next move. Tony likes seeing you all confused, happily watching your expression grow when he admits to having a attraction to his little assassin and wanting to keep them.
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yanderes-galore · 2 years
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Hi, is it ok for me to request a yandere Tony Stark headcanon? Thanks a lot.
I'm so scared to mess this up as he's a favorite of mime but I'll give it a shot 😭 I focused on Tony somewhat after the Battle of New York yet before Ultron/Civil War, but no specific movie as not specified.
I chose a specific time slot because Tony's character changes as the movies go on. I apologize if it's bad.
Yandere! Tony Stark Concept
(Sometime between Avengers - Ultron/Civil War)
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere behavior, Manipulation, Isolation, Kidnapping (easentially), Controlling behavior, Obsessive behavior, Paranoia, Implied trauma/PTSD, Stockholm Syndrome, Forced relationship, Implied mind break, Slight possessive behavior, Monitoring.
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- Tony Stark started out as an egocentric playboy before maturing after taking the Iron Man role.
- Where this concept focuses on is Iron Man/Tony Stark after the Battle of New York.
- He is also not in a relationship with Pepper in this concept.
- He met you before the whole Avengers project and fell for you, often flirting and charming you.
- Yet you never gave in to dating him, knowing his reputation.
- Despite this, Tony still held a yearning for you, meeting up with you at parties and even hiring you to help him and Pepper.
- That's how you managed to get close to the wealthy and powerful man.
- After the battle, Tony would be a very paranoid Yandere due to him seeing a world where he couldn't protect all he loves.
- Including you.
- "I can't allow this to happen. I need to prevent this...."
- Tony Stark at this time would be Manipulative, Paranoid, Delusional, Controlling, Possessive, and Obsessive.
- He was scarred after what he's seen.
- Leading him to work tirelessly on robots to keep you and others safe.
- You may have not been romantically interested in the man, yet you did what you could during the job to comfort him.
- Causing Tony to fall even more in love with you.
- Tony throughout his obsession would construct security systems and robots to ensure your safety beside him.
- Even looking for a more secluded place for you to work with the best security he can provide.
- Yet it seems you won't comply until he convinces you....
- Tony, if he manages to get you to date him or not, is manipulative towards you.
- He tells you all about his fears to try and scare you into trusting him.
- He's a strong man with security that can ensure your safety.
- He'll keep you safe as long as you give him a chance to love you.
- "Come on, I'm a great guy! I promise to love you with all that I have. Just give it a chance and at least allow me to provide you housing...?"
- Tony is persistent and determined, too.
- If you won't date him then he'll guilt you into loving him.
- Such as supplying you a house he perfected just for you and having you be moved inside.
- You could either go in willingly like he offered before, or he'll force you.
- You'll understand in the end....
- He visits that house he gave you often, too.
- You're forced to work in that home online, the security system he provided you monitoring your internet activity and what you do around the home in general.
- You're under constant monitoring.
- With his security there's little chance of leaving the house on your own.
- It reminds you of being a pet, forced into a spacious, gilded cage for 'work'.
- When in reality, it's for Stark's own pleasure.
- Tony essentially manipulated you into a cage.
- Just so he can come around each day to speak with you.
- It's always under the guise of work.
- But you know better.
- You know he's just cornering you to get you to dedicate yourself to him, the Battle of New York breaking his mind to the point he's delusional and paranoid.
- None of which are an excuse to do this.
- "See? You have the best security here. It's safe. Don't I get a thank you? Maybe even an 'I Love You' at some point? You'll come around... I know you will."
- You may even give in.
- What he said is true, he's the only one you ever see in this house because he's the only one who can get to you/know where you are.
- Stockholm syndrome may kick in due to your loneliness....
- You don't have much to do in this large home, and when Tony's here...
- Things get significantly less boring.
- Turns out his plan may have worked, he played you into his arms.
- Falling for him feels wrong.
- However, there isn't much left to do...
- You've fallen for Tony Stark, waiting for him to come to you in a cage he constructed.
- All according to his plan to keep you both safe and his....
- "How's it feel to be safe and happy? To have a man dedicated to you enough to give you paradise? Good, right? It should, after all, you'll never get someone better than me."
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2-dsimp · 2 years
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Crackfic doodle ask please, yandere gojo as iron man that flies f! darling to their "home" cuz he kidnapped them?
Here ya go✨
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yandere-romanticaa · 6 months
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¡! ❞ 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑.
❝ he licked his lips, said to me - girl you look good enough to eat - put his arms around me, said - boy, no, get your paws right off me. ❞
yandere! blade x fem! reader.
inspired by the song monster by lady gaga.
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The scent of blood. The filth of iron. A shallow echo, followed by the sound of absolute nothingness.
He was close by.
You could feel it.
It was difficult to pinpoint when this song and dance had begun but that was just the way Blade handled everything, as you would come to learn. You could recall bumping into a masked stranger in large crowds on the Lofu - whom you now know is Blade - and finding it odd just how often they would occur. At first it just felt like a simple accident, perhaps the man was just working in a place that was close to your own shop, thus making all the run ins nothing too strange or something worthy to ponder on about.
It all took a turn for worse once you felt the hairs at the back of your neck standing up straight when you would be walking home at night.
The streets would be empty and desolate, not a single soul in sight. You chalked it up to being paranoid, because who wouldn't wouldn't be afraid to walk home alone in the dark? The only thing that could be heard was the sound of a few stray critters and the sound of your own beating heart. Every heartbeat felt like it knocked the air out of you, the pumps getting stronger and stronger with every step you would take. Paranoia would take over your entire mind as you would check behind you every few seconds, to see if there really was a mystery man following you.
All of that fear would be washed away once you'd be in front of your door, the familiar wood calming your nerves as you'd fumble with the keys. With an eager sigh, you'd open the door with lightning speed and shut it just as fast, always double locking it. Your back would be pressed against the wooden frame as you'd put your hand on your chest, checking to see if your poor heart had finally managed to catch a breather.
This routine went on for months. You told your friends about the looming shadow that tailed you for countless nights, how terrified you were and just how unsafe it was for you to be walking home alone. Naturally, the responses were mixed. Some thought that you were just being jumpy, imagining things going bump in the night. It was natural to be scared of the unknown, that was their way of comforting you. The other side was more sympathetic and were more than willing to hear you out. Taking your words seriously, a good friend had offered himself to walk you home from that night onward. His own home was also close to your own so it was pretty much perfect. The two of you made plans on where to meet and what time. You could even treat him to some dinner while you were together, it was the least you could do to repay him for his kindness. Finally, the sun had set and it was time to depart together with your friend. With a pep in your step, you walked towards the rendezvous point and feeling just a bit more confident in this decision. You waited there and checked the time, he was running late. Well, it's not unusual to be a few minutes late, you could wait more.
Five minutes turned into ten.
Ten minutes turned into thirty.
This wasn't alright.
Everything was off once more, the familiar sensation of adrenaline had kicked back in as you looked around for your friend. Where was he? Why didn't he show up? Was this all just a prank to him after all?
Feeling dejected and nervous, you walked back home alone, the lights from the lanterns being your only companions. The familiar sounds of the night were still there, the occasional drunken yell as well.
But the sting that you would feel at the back of your neck, it...
It was not there.
There was no tension, no other presence that you could feel.
You were lost in the darkness.
The next day, you asked around for your friend but they all said the same thing - he had a sudden accident a bit before he was supposed to meet up with you and ended up bludging both his arms and legs. No one knew how it happened and whenever they would ask the guy all he would do is stare back at them, his lips quivering and bloodshot eyes filled to the brim with terror.
It made you want to curl up into a hole in the ground.
Calling in sick, you decided to go home while it was still daylight. The habit of looking behind your shoulder was very much on alert but there was also a sense of calmness in the air. Instead of the cold and chilly night you were walking down a path which was light up with warm light, instead of sounds of creatures looking for their next meal all you could hear were the sound of street vendors and chatter of children. The food smelled delicious and you allowed yourself the luxury of loosening up, just for a little bit. As you rummaged through your purse you came into contact with the familiar feeling of metal keys, the tiny charm you had on them being a dead set indicator. You put the key into the lock but before you twisted it, you turned around one last time to admire the scenery around you.
Happy children and grumpy adults were scattered all over the place, all of them lost in their own little world or they mingled with each other in one way or the other. You were particularly focused on the little boy who was devouring a grilled piece of meat on the stick, the aroma of it almost making your mouth drool. Looking behind your back really wasn't all too bad, especially if you could feast your eyes on the pure serenity which was so close.
Turns out, it was your front which you had to be looking out for.
Just as you opened the door, a tall man with jet black hair was on the other side. He stood perfectly still as he stared down at you, his blood red eyes leering over your body, like a hunter going in for the kill. Dread bubbled in your stomach at an alarming rate but before the scream could come out to the surface, the dark stranger pressed you close to him, one hand holding your waist tightly while the other clamped your mouth shut, not even allowing you to breathe.
"If you even make a sound." he said, his voice gruff but determined.
"I will kill every single person that is standing behind you. Man, woman or child, it does not matter to me."
You wanted to hurl. Your eyes were blown wide open with fear, your entire body shaking with anticipation as his hot breath fanned the shell of your ear. You could feel his teeth ghosting your earlobe, threatening to take a bite whenever he pleased. The hand which was snaked around your waist moved upwards to your back, his bandaged finger tracing the flesh through the fabric of your shirt. No one from the outside world was even paying attention to you and if they did, the two of you probably looked like two love birds who were just thoroughly enchanted with one another.
"You know." said the man, his voice edging on playful now. "I've been watching you for a while now."
You could feel your stomach drop in realization and he too picked up on that fact. He chuckled right in front of your face, his long strands of hair tickling your cheeks. You didn't even realize just how sticky his hands were up until now, you how putrid his scent was, like he had just cut up a carcass and left it for dead under the sun.
"Oh?" he chuckled, his tone fully serious now.
"Don't you recognize the smell of your friend?"
The tears finally kicked in and the sicko in front of you took great pleasure in them. You bawled like a baby in front of him, the horror of knowing that your friend was either dead or dying in a ditch somewhere was just too much to handle. But the creek merely laughed at you, his body shaking with pleasure as he kissed your tears away, his horrid cackles ringing loudly in your eyes. You managed to look at the world behind you one last time, your eyes searching for someone, anyone to help you in this time of need. But no one was there to see you, no one was there to help you.
The last thing you saw was a few strings of light before the stranger kicked the door shut with his foot, sealing you away from any possible freedom.
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lolita-lollipop · 3 months
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Iron
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YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER
The king of the most violent and powerful tribe in the eastern world is captured during battle by a small farmers village. What does a violent man like katsuki bakugo do upon meeting a kind servant girl like you?
WARNINGS: reader gets hurt by villagers (bakugo saves her)
He couldn't remember how long he had been here, he just knew it was cold, dark, unsanitary, and painful. He remembered the battle that put him here, getting shot with a poison-laced arrow, feinting on the field. Heh. imagine it, the great barbarian Bakugo, the children's slayer, the village burner, the soldier slaughterer falling because of one puny arrow from one puny kingdom. When he first had woken up he could feel the slick of his blood under him mixed with the dirt and grime of the cell, he had giant iron cuffs wrapping his wrists and legs, binding him to the floor. He couldn't blame these people, truly, they knew that once he woke up if he were to get out they were all as good as slaughtered.
It was a small stone dungeon, with only a couple of stalls, he occupying one of them. There was a small barred window, along with a wall of iron bars serving as protection from him and the rest of the world. Iron, he hated the stuff, and banned it from his country, it burned him, burned his people. There was a thick, damp smell of blood and rust, a musty smell he could easily recognize as death. He would carve every person in this building up, then burn every building in the village, and he would let the fire spread to their fields and watch as their lives work shrivels up into ash. But for now, He would wait for the perfect time to strike, all he could do was wait really, watch the guard rotation, see which ones were talkative, and which ones were cruel.
Many of the guards would beat him, carve his skin, and watch him bleed, they know of all the gruesome things he has done to so very many people, and supposedly the bastards feel some kind of idiotic vengeance or justice for those people. They would pay in the long run, who exactly do they think they are? he is a king, royalty, the highest of the highest, the strongest too. If he doesn't kill them his people will, they'll see. All the king could do was watch, wait, and plot the splattering of this village.
That was, until you came along.
Little you, in your flowy little skirt that was all torn up, with no shoes and a dirt-covered face. Little you with your oh-so-innocent smile, and your callused hands. Little you with your malnourished body, frail and sickly. Little you, who had no idea who he was. Little you who snuck in when no guard was on duty, a small bowl of soup in your hands, and a cup of water.
“I-im sorry that this is all I have, I know you haven't eaten in a long time I just- I’ll have more tomorrow” you whispered, and he swore he fell in love right then and there, you were too frail, too weak to be giving out food that you surely needed. Yet here you were, shakily handing him the bowl and the cup. He stared at you for a solid second, not even his own mother was this selfless, and you don't even know him. Who were you? You did not seem like aristocracy, too kind, maybe a farmer? Maybe a maid, a servant even.
He hadn't realized how hungry he was, not until the entire bowl and cup were gone, and he was left to stare at you. You were ethereal, dirt-covered and all, your eyes, your hair, your hands, everything, absolutely stunning. You had a look in your eyes. Something hungry and fearful told him that you were not happy, not safe and sound, not as you should be.
“I don't have anything to treat your wound, but- I'm sorry. Nobody should be treated this way, not even prisoners. I'll be back tomorrow, please don't tell the guards that I've done this. They will kill me.” you whispered, cautiously reaching to grab the glassware from his grip, waiting to see if he would snap at you. He didn't, only stared, grunting in response to your plea. You stared back with those sympathetic globes of yours, as if you could see the anger in his soul. Before turning on your heel, and quietly sneaking out of the dungeon room, you gave him one last glance before disappearing.
He was left in the quiet, in the cold, falling head over heels in love with you, a mere human. A peasant at that. Strange. You were too sweet, too kind, you clearly needed the food, clearly were starving and malnourished, yet you still stood here and offered your only food to him, a prisoner of war, you were so sweet. So kind. His people were not like you, they were not soft or sweet, he loved them for it, but you, oh you. You were soft and supple and sweet andso sickeningly kind. He would protect you, he has too.
The next couple of nights went similarly, you sneaking in during the dead hours following midnight with varying foods, sometimes a stale loaf of bread with milk, sometimes some leafy soup and water. He was grateful every time, thankful that he wasn't starving, still burning with absolute rage towards the mere peasants who believed that they could contain him. But you, in the very few days that he had known you, had wormed your way into his heart with your soft hands and pretty smile.
He can just imagine you adorned in stolen jewels and furs, dressed in the finest silk, or better, the clothes of his people. something soft like you, something pretty and supple and shiny and light. Something that reflects you, he would take you out of those rags, clean you up, teach you what luxury truly is. and you wouldnt have to lift a finger. he dreamed about your future everyday that you would visit, asking your favorite color or season or jewel.
That was, until you stopped showing up. No more quiet hours gazing at each other, no more shared food and drink, no more listening to you quietly talk about your life, no more sympathetic glances, no more questions about him from you, no more answers from him. It was like you had disappeared entirely, and back to his old routine of watching and observing the guards had begun once more. He had to admit it kind of hurt, having the only good thing here disappear entirely, he resented this place more, resented you.
He hated you, how could you leave him? You, a servant girl abandoning a king. Funny, hilarious, he sat in a pool of blood and hatred thinking about you, about this town, about the people who put him here, who chained him to the floor and watched him bleed out, this city will burn. And burn and burn and burn and burn and burn, his people would tear it apart until it was nothing but ash and blood-
What tore him out of his internal monologue was a pained scream, but not just anybody, he didn't know anybody in the town, it was yours. With that whispery rasp that you had from overexertion, and that neverending fear that dripped from your tone. He stood up to stare through the small window, only to see you on the ground, surrounded by many people, all bigger and stronger than you, yelling and screaming.
“It's her, the traitor!”
“She has been feeding the enemy, treason, treason I say!”
“She should be beheaded, the traitor.”
You let another scream ring out through the town center as one of the men brought their boot down on your bare foot, he could hear the crunch followed by another scream. The first kick sparked more from other men as they brought their feet down on frail little ou, you slowly reverted into a fetal position, lying in the dirt as they beat you relentlessly. He saw red, crimson blinding him and overflowing all of his senses. How could they? You did nothing, you knew nothing. You were just a sweet, innocent little human who knew no better, who were they to punish you, to beat you so cruelly? You were thin and frail and he could hear each one of your bones cracking and breaking into pieces.
He saw bright ruby red, anger wasn’t the word, absolute rage is a better way to put it.
Red red red red red red red red red
He didn't even realize he had broken from his chains till his legs were moving,
Red
He didn’t even feel the burn of the iron till the bars holding him were bent out of shape and twisted
Red
He didn’t realize they were all dead till his hands were stained with that bright crimson color he loved so much- you guessed it, red
He killed them all, so painfully, knuckles crunching skulls and tearing off limbs, pulling people apart faster than any wolf or bear could even try to. The thrill of freedom mixed with rage and pure anger let him revert to the ways of his homeland, back to the thrilling violence and electrifying feeling of tearing another apart. He enjoyed it, enjoyed tearing them limb from limb and watching them bleed as they had done to him. He cackled as they screamed in terror, relishing in their fear.
You watched deliriously, you had lost too much blood in too short of a time, and you were positive that you had many many broken bones, pain overcame you as you watched the bloodshed in front of you, your vision was blurry and shaking but you could tell that somebody was strong, and enjoying violence. Fear budded in the back of your brain, he was enjoying this, enjoying their pain, he would hurt you just the same, kill you, and relish in it.
You hadn’t known who he was, you swore to the village leaders, swore that you just felt bad for the poor starving man in the dungeons who seemed to gentle and sweet, they hadn’t cared. You were to be burned or drowned or noosed they said. But a death like this, at the hand of a man you had been fooled to be sweet? That was worse. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god you were going to die
Your breath became shallow, both because of what was surely a punctured lung, but also because of the slowly approaching footsteps crunching on the dirt. A small whimper escaped you as the figure towered over you, and your hands came up to shield your face from the blow that was surely to come.
But Instead of a painful ending blow, arms wrapped under you and hoisted you up, you never realized how tall this man was. Naturally, you curled into his warmth and tried not to think about how sticky his hands were with blood. your breath hitched as he squeezed you closer with calloused rough hands. Tears washed down your face, you were quivering, shaking in fear.
“P-please-“ you quivered out. Hand moving up to push him away, your statement had many meanings, to beg for your life, to beg him to put you down, to beg him to leave you and your village alone, to beg him to forgive you. He stared down at you with crimson eyes, a sudden softness overcoming them, more than he thought he could have.
“Don’t you worry baby,
I’ll take good care of ya”
———————————————————————
Cute
Anyway enjoy, I noticed a lack of barbarian bakugo content on here so I figured I would add some fuel to the fire.
Love you all, make sure to have a great day!
986 notes · View notes
ozzgin · 4 months
Text
Yandere! CoD Headcanons: König x Reader x Ghost (II)
“Sharing is caring” is likely familiar to most, though the nuances of it may sometimes differ beyond the classic expectations. You’re trapped between two jealous, possessive and feverishly infatuated men with no escape in your sight. That implies, of course, you’ve been looking for a way out of this bizarre partnership. Have you? Be honest…
TW: NSFW, obsessive behavior, size kink, violence
Tags: @223princess
[Part I]
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Yet another classic rule that comes with your job is to always be ready to deal with the unexpected. Plan as well as you may, the battleground is not as generous as to stick to your schedule. Yet the same principle applies out of combat, too. It’s just…you had’t really imagined such an outcome to be possible. Your extensive training covered most scenarios, from raids, to ambushes, natural disasters, everything except, well, this. You wonder if the code of conduct might include a paragraph about work romance, specifically your teammates taking turns to fuck you shamelessly at any hour of the day.
You gaze at your reflection in the slightly fogged mirror and quickly look away, embarrassed. You can’t bear to see the markings that are peppered all over your body, betraying the depraved activities you’ve indulged in for the past weeks. How did it even come to this? You sit on the edge of the bed, drying your hair, and hesitantly replay the event in your head. Your helpless form crouched on the storage floor, looking up at the two large men gripping at each other’s throats. Behind their masks you could sense their ferocious intent to kill. How would you explain it to your superiors? You gathered up your remaining confidence and barked at them to stop at once. They were indeed taken aback by your sudden yell that could’ve put any drill sergeant to shame. You wanted to get to the bottom of the conflict and put all this bullshit behind as soon as possible. Until they offered you the honest cause of their hostile rivalry. You could only stare in disbelief.
Your first instinct was to wonder if this was some sort of elaborate prank. What the hell, were they a bunch of high schoolers learning to handle their first crush or fucking grown adults in the middle of a military operation? You were never oblivious to it: mixed gender missions always came with a lot of casual hookups to blow off steam. Not your thing, but there’s plenty of other people down to it. Your suggestion was met with angry, vehement refusal. Both Ghost and König were outraged at the insinuation they’d put their dicks in some rando, as if that’s all there was to it. As if anyone else would do. Ironically this is where they found their common ground. König had lifted you nonchalantly by the collar of your uniform and asked you if you’re playing dumb. You could only shrug, even more confused. Ghost joined him and explained, casually and matter-of-fact, that you can call it a hookup as long as you remember it’s a lifelong arrangement. You were to walk out that door with the knowledge you belong to them and they would take any necessary steps to ensure your compliance. The hunting knife that was meant to plunge into his rival was now propped under your chin, dangerously close to your throbbing artery.
Now this should’ve been your sign to nod obediently, pack your suitcase at the earliest convenience and get the hell out. And that was your honest intent, initially. You could almost visualize the documents granting your absence from duty. Then you felt your buttons pop from their seams, forcefully ripped apart by König’s large hand. It occurred to you that you were propped against the wall by two men twice your size. You could hear their now labored breaths, muffled by their masks. The Austrian man roughly readjusted your posture, having you rest against his hips and throwing your legs around his waist. You gasped quietly once you sensed a bulge pressing into you. He fumbled with his zipper, but Ghost interrupted him with an irritated scolding. “You can’t just ram it in, you fucking dumbass.” You didn’t take long to understand the meaning and shivered at the thought. Without a warning, Ghost slid his hand into your now unbuckled pants. Two fingers begun pressing circles over your underwear and an unconscious whine escaped your lips. Satisfied by your reaction, he brought himself closer and increased the pace until he felt the moisture pooling in the fabric, which was enough encouragement to gently slip his way inside of you. In an attempt to help, König lowered his head over your breasts, fondling your now sensitive nipples with his tongue. His mask draped over your skin, adding a mild tickle to the overwhelming buildup. You suddenly remembered the storage no longer had a door after König kicked it out of its hinges, so you tried to push the muscular man away. “W-what if someone comes in?” Against your will and to your surprise, the question rolled out like a prolonged moan and you blushed awkwardly. “They won’t, if you shut up.” Ghost responded curtly. He considered it for a moment, and added smugly: “Don’t worry, that pretty mouth of yours will be real busy soon.” You closed your eyes tightly and prayed you wouldn’t be caught.
And you weren’t. You got away with it. That time, and the other time, and all the other times. At this point you question whether your other teammates truly haven’t noticed or have since learned to look away. Another possibility is that the psychotic duo has threatened the others into silence. Given their cocky attitude whenever you protest about the openness or risky timing, it wouldn’t surprise you at all. Even worse, their libido seems to be increasing exponentially as a consequence to their incessant competition of owning you. They seem to be plagued by a delirious need to have you at all times, and you’re rather afraid to admit that your desire to flee is slowly being replaced by a similar addiction. Rabid dogs in heat. That’s the only analogy that comes to mind.
Last time you didn’t even get the chance to return to the base. The soldiers had exited the truck, cheering their success and marching towards the gate. König had been quiet the entire ride, not even bothering to hide his ardent stare, his eyes hooded with lust. You were about to hop off yourself when you felt his burning grip on your wrist, pulling you back in and onto his lap. Oh, how he loves fucking you like this. His toned legs are sprawled out dominantly and his calloused hands guide you over his erection. No matter how many times you do it, the start is always painful. He’s just that big. But that’s his favorite part. Seeing you wince and tear up, holding your stomach as if shielding it from the foreign object assaulting the walls of your frail body. Then the thrusts become smoother and your movements break into an erratic pleading for more. He wants to witness it all. God, you turn him into a wild animal. His fingers dig into your skin and towards the end you’re a whimpering mess, shamelessly drooling over his uniform in a daze. As you coat him with your slick cum, he grunts and barely manages to speak. “Fuck, I’m gonna lose my mind for good one of these days.” His voice is deep and reverberates against your heaving chest.
Scratch that. Last time you didn’t even make it to the truck. You were laying behind a boulder, wiping the sweat and dirt off your face. You’d just finished taking out your targets and announced your return in the headset. Ghost approaches you with a hidden smirk and squats before you, extending a hand towards you. “Need help?” You nod with gratitude and take off your helmet. You reach for his hand, hoping he’d pull you up, but instead his fingers claw around your throat and push you against the ground. “Good, I have the perfect thing for a little slut like you.” He climbs over you without letting go of your neck and undoes your jacket with ease. Hell, he’s been doing it so often he could manage even blindfolded. With the free hand he shoves one of your legs away to make space. Truth be told, he’s very much biased towards this particular arrangement. He can already feel the unbearable pressure of his member waiting to be freed. He adores being able to take all of you in. Your expression, your small body trapped under his massive frame. He can fuck you as he pleases, until you turn into a rag doll, and there’s no way out. You grit your teeth in anticipation and hold onto his arm that’s choking you once he goes in. You must’ve been molded just for him. There’s no other explanation for his feral clinginess, scratching and biting and pulling in desperate, agonizing pleasure. After the deed has been done he can admire his masterful work, gazing lovingly at your flustered, disheveled form, gasping for air and dripping with his seed.
Your shake your head and try to chase away these perverted memories. You’re still damp from the shower and continue massaging your scalp with the towel, when you hear a knock on your door. Oh, no. No. “Busy!” is all you manage to shout. The door opens nonetheless and Ghost and König waltz in, entirely indifferent to your refusal. “Can’t I have one moment to myself?” You groan, frustrated. König leans against the wall and Ghost kneels in front of you. There’s a hint of cheekiness in his voice. “Sure. Tell us to go away and we will.” You blink and ponder his words. Remembering all the past encounters has gotten you a little bit eager, that’s true, but… “Say it.” He repeats himself. You squirm and look away, a deep red spreading across your face. Your lips are pursed. König lets out a soft laugh and closes the door, then faces you. “Since you wanted to be a brat, you have to beg for it now.”
What have you gotten yourself into?
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 3 months
Note
You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.
Sorry for the bad English
Don't apologize
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You're perf, babes
Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White
CW: Death, obsessive behavior
"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.
Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.
The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.
But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.
"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."
The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"
King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.
"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."
Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.
"Show me my hunter, again."
The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.
At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.
Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.
His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.
"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.
The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.
"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.
"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.
Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"
"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."
The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.
"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."
"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"
He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.
"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.
Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."
Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.
Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"
"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."
King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.
He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.
"Send for my hunter."
Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.
"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"
(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."
"You understand that you belong to me?"
"Yes, your highness."
He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.
Kill my son."
Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"
"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.
The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.
"As you wish, your highness."
Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?
He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.
(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.
What would the king do, if he was made a fool?
"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"
And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.
They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.
The first was after they took the life of the Queen.
"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.
"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.
"What?"
"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.
"Why? I don't understand-"
"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."
Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"
(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."
Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.
"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.
(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.
Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.
"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.
"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."
The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."
"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."
The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"
"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."
Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"
The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."
Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"
Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"
Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"
"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."
Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."
It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..
A dark, bitter seed had been planted.
And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.
He wondered what else they would do for him.
The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.
"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.
"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."
"Are you sure?"
The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.
"Of course, please take it!"
Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.
The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.
In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."
He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.
"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."
But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.
As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.
Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.
The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.
Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.
(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.
The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.
Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.
(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.
Then their lips pressed against his.
His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.
"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"
They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.
His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."
Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."
Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."
The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.
After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.
But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.
494 notes · View notes
koinotame · 3 months
Text
if i was your husband
word count: 1.4K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, some nonsexual touching of dubious consent, otherwise just 1400 words of yandere-typical obsession
characters included: childe
a/n: this is a repost (heavily edited in some parts, lightly edited in others)! and a sequel to this. you can read this as a standalone modern au oneshot, but it'll probably make more sense with the context of the previous one. also on ao3! next part here
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"you know," you say after a while of quiet between the two of you, staring vacantly at the tv playing some seasonal movie and leaning further into the couch. "my friends were saying you’d make a good husband."
out of the corner of your eye, you see him still.
"…really?"
something about the way he says it makes your stomach queasy.
you hum halfheartedly, still trying to pretend you’re more invested in the movie than the current conversation.
"what do you think, then?"
that gets you to turn to him. "huh?"
he’s looking directly at you, face propped up on his fist. the way his eyes, deep and all consuming, bore into yours makes you feel like you’re a sailor about to give in to the enthralling call of the ocean. "how do you think I’d do as your husband?"
"well…" you pause for a bit, eyes flicking back to the movie and staying there for a bit. he doesn’t move, staring directly at your face. your eyes inch to the opposite corner of the scren, a bit further away from him.
a few minutes pass by before you say anything again. "I mean, your cooking is great. and you like cleaning, and—" you start counting off other husbandly traits he has on your fingers. your hands are almost full by the time you’re done, which is also when you finally turn back to him. "so. yeah, I think you’d make for a good husband."
his stare is starting to get kind of unnerving.
you smile awkwardly, trying to ease the tense air. "…maybe that makes you more of a house husband, though?"
he doesn’t respond to your jest.
"you think so?"
instead, he sounds strikingly serious. he usually sounds light and lively, so his current inflection sounds eerie.
you don’t have time to think about it any more before he’s draping himself over you, his arms leaning onto the couch behind you and torso just barely not touching you. his eyes search your face for something, not missing the jolt at his sudden movement.
after an intense couple seconds of observing you, his face turns up into a wide, almost overexcited smile.
his head drops into the crook of your shoulder, arms wrapping themselves around your waist and pressing you even further into the couch. you hear him inhale loudly, then let out a content sigh as he presses his face further against you. he doesn’t mind the way you stiffen at the sudden sensation, or the way your arms remain rigidly at your sides.
"…what are you doing?"
"if I was your husband," he ignores your question, not moving. "I’d be the happiest man alive. no, forget that—I’d be the happiest person alive."
your mouth feels dry when he presses a light kiss against the exposed skin on your throat.
"I’d cook breakfast, lunch and dinner for you every day. I’d learn all your favourites and I’d pack you lunch every day." he takes another deep whiff. you’re sure you’re not imagining it this time. "I could pack you those cute themed lunch boxes, too. I’d get up early every morning to make sure I can finish everything in time."
his eyes open, his lashes brushing tenderly against your skin. "I’d wake you every day, and I’d hold you as we fall asleep every night. I’d take care of everything so you can always take it easy, and I’d make sure you’re always comfortable."
his breath is hot against your skin. "I’d make sure to tell you that I love you every day. the house would always be ready for your return, the sheets always fresh and your clothing always ironed."
he moves down, pressing his face against where your heart is. his ear lays flat against your chest. the look on his face is hard to describe, bordering on hypnotised. "I’d make sure you’re always happy. I’d take care of all the rent, and the utility bills, and food, and whatever else needs to be paid."
his eyes appear glazed over. "you could spend your days lounging around, doing nothing while I take care of you and pamper you. I could buy you whatever you want, whenever you want, for whatever reason you want. I’d do anything for you. nothing is off the table for you."
his grip tightens, pressing you further into him, as if he doesn’t want there to be an end to him and a beginning to you between the two of you.
"I’d make sure nobody could hurt you, of course. anyone who tries will sorely regret it." he says the words as if they come so naturally to him as his voice gets just a little bit more frantic. "I’ll take care of any and all of your problems. no matter what."
"if I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t have the right to call myself your husband." he smiles up at you, tone suddenly cheerful. if it wasn’t for his previous words, his smile would seem innocently excited.
for all the months you’ve been living with ajax, you’ve never felt particularly threatened by him. he’s never made you think the rumours about him are true, never given you any reason to be scared or angry with him. he’s weird, and kind of pushy sometimes, and you’re never quite sure what he’s thinking of, but he’s never been scary.
you’re not sure you agree with that anymore.
with bated breath, you watch as he takes one of your stiff hands gently into his own and presses it against his cheek. it feels uncomfortably warm against your skin.
"I’d be the best husband you could have. you’d always be happy with me, I promise. I swear it on my life. I’ll never let you down."
his expression remains equally love-struck and intense no matter what he says, like he’s barely managing to contain his devotion, but there’s a hint of desperation behind them the more he goes on.
"if I was your husband…"
he pauses, dark pools of blue staring into your eyes intensely.
"your grace," he suddenly drops to his knees in front of you, keeping his hold on your hand but moving to hold it in front of him gingerly. "would you marry me?"
he doesn’t give you time to answer, instead pressing his face against your knee. his gaze doesn’t waver. "I know I’m getting ahead of myself, that I could never deserve you, that we’re still so young, but… now that I’ve had a taste of being around the real you, I’m not sure I could ever let that feeling go."
his eyelids close and he lays his head on your lap. "I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost your favour. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I drove you away."
the movie is still playing in the background. your fingers feel cold.
"but I can’t help myself." his eyes open again and stare at you again, deeper than any lake could ever be. "I love you."
he presses himself further against you, arms wrapping around your calves delicately.
"I love all of you. I love you when you’re happy and I love you when you’re sad. I love every single part of you." he starts rubbing his cheek against your legs. "whenever you come back home tired or downcast, I want to go out and destroy whatever is causing you grief. I’d overthrow the entire world for you if it’d please you."
the way he talks about you as if you’re some sort of divine being is makes your head spin.
"actually…" the flush on his cheeks accentuates, the warmth of his face tangible even against your clothed leg. "wouldn’t that be nice? you could be the divine ruler and I’d be your personal knight, the strongest and most loyal in the entire world…"
the tone in his voice is overeager, though his words remind you more of a fairy tale story disconnected from reality than like something he really means. "it wouldn’t even be hard, nobody here has visions and no matter what they say, anyone with one has an innate advantage over those who don’t. and should that fail, I’ll always have…" the rest is mumbled against your legs and unintelligible.
after a couple more seconds, he sighs, almost wistfully. "but this world has those pesky nuclear weapons instead, so I’ll settle for being your husband instead."
one of his hands reaches out and intertwines with yours again. he squeezes it tenderly.
"I love you."
his eyes bore into yours even as he presses a reverent kiss to the back of your hand.
"if you find me suitable…" the expression on his face can only be described as lovesick. "please marry me."
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howdoesagrapewrites · 4 months
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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈𝐕
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Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.
Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, again, Daemon is violent
Taglist: @faesspace
>Jacaerys had come to terms with his status as a bastard, even though it was never to be said out loud
>Laenor was still his father, even if not biologically, he was the men he called "dada" with his first words, and it would remain that way for the rest of his life
>This made him closer to you, your situation was different, as everybody knew you were a bastard, and you were not to inherit anything
>He felt like he had to prove people wrong about him, so he overexerted himself. There was little you could do to stop him, so you contented with staying by his side in the library, late at night, falling asleep to his voice practicing high valyrian
>In these nights, you likely had little Aegon or Viserys on your lap, because they'd cry until they were put to sleep only by your or their mother
>Jacaerys would revel in this image, you peacefully asleep, holding babes, your silver hair caressing your cheeks
>He could sometimes allow himself to imagine what if the children you were holding were his, if you could be his queen. If he could kiss you and rut against you, if he could suck your nipples until milk would come out
>But he was always quick to dismiss these ideas, you were forbidden fruit, and the last thing a bastard king needs, is a bastard queen. His mother had gone through hell and back to uphold his claim to the iron throne, and he would not disappoint her, no matter how desperately he needed you
>And even though, he was ashamed to admit it, he was scared of his step-father. There was one specific memory he would always go back to
>He was a young man, maybe a little older than you. And he had come to Dragonstone while you were in King's Landing with Rhaenyra. He had come bearing expensive gifts and displaying a beautiful crimson doublet with embroidery details in gold and plum
>He had spoken flowery promises of old alliances of his house with the conqueror, and Daemon's face was reflecting his achingly strong boredom and weariness, demanding him he speak whatever idiotic trade he had in mind. That's when the lord said he'd be "most delighted" to present himself as a suitor for lady Y/N. Daemon didn't respond, he let the awkward silence seat, he let him marinate in anxiety. He then took his dark sister and cut the poor boy's head off. He told his guard he'd be spared if he returned to tell the tale, that no one should try to approach his firstborn daughter.
>"Nobody likes a peeping Tom" he shouted to Jacaerys, who was hidden watching the scene
>He still sometimes thinks of how easily his head fell off his neck, how quickly it did
>So he knew Y/N couldn't be his, not now not ever. But he still hated to know there was one person that Daemon could not scare off
>Jacaerys felt lucky he could see your metamorphosis from a girl to a maiden in a first row seat, but this change meant that one day you'd leave, and he'd have to get a wife, a proper wife for a king
>But that person that was not scared of Daemon, also didn't have that problem. He was talking about Daeron Targaryen
>Despite the collective best efforts of the Velaryon brothers, you still talked to Daeron regularly, fortunately, not as much now that he was in Oldtown, but still too much for their liking
>Lucerys did not realize the puppy crush he had on you, thinking he just saw you as his older sister, but he was on board with anything that meant sabotaging your possible paramours
>So they were incredibly frustrated when they all had to travel to King's Landing, and Daeron was going to be there
>Lucerys used Daeron's presence to distract himself from the fact that his grandsire could die, and that that was the real reason why they were there, for him to inherit Driftmark
>This was the first time in years you'd actually spend time with Aemond, as you would avoid him everytime you visited
>Dagahrion was too large for the dragon pit, so he stays in a cave in Aegon's hill
>Alicent ran to hug you, Rhaenyra stood there, silently judging her
>When you went to see your uncle Viserys, it was heartbreaking, he called for you, and you kneeled at the edge of his face, so he could see you clearly. It took him some time to recognize you
>"Y/N... She's nothing but an infant, I know she must be playing, but I'd like to see her"
>You patiently explained, until he could remember you, you saw a lonely tear when the realization of your age, and the pass of time had hit him
>You got into an argument with your father when he accused Alicent
>"Can't you see she just wants to have your trust to whore you out to his depraved sons?!"
>"Are you one to talk about depravity, father?!" You shouted, offended and angry at him
>"I am one to talk because I know exactly what goes through the heads of men like that, and I know exactly the type of woman that bitch is"
>"What are you scared of? That someone might treat me like you did my mother?!" You are a dragon, and you spit fire. Your father goes quiet, not out of shame, but out of astonishment. He had waited so much time to see himself in you, he thought that your lack of ill intentions was what made you perfect, but it was not. Daemon would enjoy seeing more of this, after all, it would be laughable if an innocent, irreproachable maiden rode a dragon like yours
>Daemon smiled at you and left the room, leaving puzzled and embarrassed at your words
>Rhaenys and the twins were second to greet you, your sisters had missed you so dearly
>They excitedly spoke of all that happened, and how much they missed being with you, you spent an hour in the gardens before you were interrupted, to go to Lucerys' hearing
>After catching up, Rhaenys left you to have "girl time" with them, they hugged you once again, and you could swear Rhaena left a kiss on your collarbone, and Baela's hands wondered a little too low from your back to your tailbone
>The announcement of the marriages had complicated reactions, you could see it, but you were glad the family would remain together, strong
>You hugged Lucerys when Vaemond yelled for all the realm to hear of his accusations, and you saw your father smiling at you and Rhaenyra once he had sliced Vaemond Velaryon in half
>During dinner, you sat between Jacaerys and Baela
>You were pleased to share a table with your family, it had been so long since you last did
>Aegon's unsavory comments made you cringe, but you sweetly smiled when Jace and Baela defended you, Alicent and Daemon were glaring daggers at him
>When it was time for the toasts, you looked at Helaena with sadness, thinking of how miserable Aegon had made her
>You toasted to your uncle Viserys, Viserys the peaceful, who had earned his title as protector of the realm
>Aemond kept looking at you, you could not decipher his expression, what he wanted from you
>You danced with Daeron and Helaena, Rhaena then joined, with her pentoshi grace and coquettish moves, she had always loved dancing the most out of you three
>The tone completely changed once Aemond decided to toast to his nephews, the three strong boys
>Before Jace could go to punch him, you spoke up
>"Say what you mean, cousin" you taunted
>"It was but merely a compliment, don't you believe your step brothers to be strong?'
>"I believe my king ordered to cut off the tongue of everyone who would insinuate or reference the foul rumors spoken against your future queen and king"
>"That was the day I lost my eye, was it not, dear cousin?" He spoke with a voice that made you want to recoil, it was frankly disgusting
>"It was, if I were you I wouldn't want to become Aemond One Eye and no tongue" you could almost feel your father's approval as you spoke poison
>With all the noise and stress, you felt your knees start to fail, you could see Daeron was holding you
>Aemond walked towards you before being stopped by a punch from Jacaerys
>After seeing Jace come to you, you blacked out
>Of course your fainting was attributed to being a young maiden in the presence of violence, but you knew something was strange
>Though it ended in a bitter note, you knew your spell was beyond psychological, you felt sick, maybe it was the food
>The maesters said you were not fit for travel, nor boat less dragonback
>Daemon refused to leave you on King's Landing, trying to sneak your asleep body out of the castle to take you with him on top of Caraxes, but he was discovered
>When he inevitably had to go, he left you in Misarya's care, had you wake up and be unable to travel back to your family, she would be rewarded handsomely to take you to Dragonstone
>The night prince Daemon left, was the night Viserys the peaceful, first if his name, died
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diejager · 3 months
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if you don't mind can i ask for your take on civilian s/o and yandere makarov? i wonder how he behave around an s/o who's like the opposite of him (like they're kind, gentle and has not known violence ever). hcs or short scenario or anything depends on you i don't mind (there's a drought of makarov content tbh 😮‍💨).
thanks for considering this and please take your time. have a good day 😚.
”Love” Cw: manipulation, obsessive behaviour, delusions of love, humain training, forceful taking, verbal abuse, tell me if I missed any.
Makarov doesn’t love. He knew how to, but he never truly did. He couldn’t with the heart and mind he grew up cultivating, to build his empire and strength, dwindling his heart’s empathy. Ironically, such ignorance towards love only increased his obsession, the amount of it that would only climb higher and higher, because in a sense, the loss of such emotions lead to a loss of a limit, driving him to insane lengths to achieve what he had his mind on.
He only knew death and bloodshed, the destruction of the mundane and corruption of the innocent, being the source of the rot and decay in the cells of a flower, to make it wilt and dust. Perhaps that’s where his interest in the normal stemmed, that curiosity that would someday bloom into obsession. He searched for an object of obsession, something - someone - to put all this attention on, something tangible, solid under his hands and malleable to his intentions. Despite his lack of time to dawdle, to spend on meaningless affairs, he found the perfect subject, someone so starkly different from him and his world.
There was a dichotomy in Makarov’s world, the harshness of war, battle and conquering of countries, and the deceptive softness in his eyes, the gentle touch of his scarred and calloused hands, and the coo with his sly tongue. You were the only softness in his life, a civilian he -one day - decided to pick up from the streets, bright-eyed and innocent to the horror he saw and spear-headed. Your tired eyes untouched by his mind and your scarless body free of any conflict that he could start with a simple wave of his hand.
There’s a need in his mind to see this innocence wilt away, to pry your mind of any autonomy and freedom you’ve lived with. Makarov wanted a doll, something soft and precious he could corrupt with words and ruin with his hands, deceptively gentle and loving, a poem spilling from a cruel smirk and eyes gleaming darkly. He has his ways to turn you into a thing of his imagination, to make you into his willing Russian doll, layer over layer of maliciousness and subservience.
He’s a man of culture, letting the people under him do all the dirty work. Despite all the viciousness and madness in his being, he doesn’t hit, he doesn’t abuse the object of his obsession, that was reserved for men lower than him, poor and mindless men. Rather, he preferred manipulation, well-thought words used in right situation to have you crawling back to him for safety, protection and comfort. He wanted you to come to him on your own, to make your pliant and uncaring of the wider view. He, after all, took you for himself, to endure himself in a second source of power.
Makarov has a silver tongue, whispering words into your ears that take root, your doubts and fears growing in the depth of your heart, bringing you closer to the man who promised to protect you. His fingers wiping away your tearful cheeks, pearly gems rolling down your cheek as he teases you about being worried. You shouldn’t be so fearful with him beside you, he’s your warden, your all-powerful and dependable lover.
He won’t let a shred of suspicion towards him fester, it’ll be dealt with swiftly with the call of your name, breaking down your vulnerable mind and building it back up in his image, his opinions were yours, his thoughts were yours, his goals were yours. So much so that you were his, knowing fundamentally that whatever he said goes.
”мой маленький цветок,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours, hands soft but wandering, laying down chains over your waist, around your dainty wrists and tightening the collar around your neck, keeping the hold on your mind, “You did so well, I’m proud of you.”
Positive reinforcement. He often used positive reinforcement to deepen his hold, to sink his teeth into your clean soul. Sweetened words with a voice he taught you to crave and possessive touches of bloody hands with intentions that he blinded you of, finding a way to make you want them.
“What do you say?” His hand traveled up your jaw, featherlight fingers cradling your ear and cheek until it stopped under your chin, tilting your head to look at his narrowed eyes, proud and dark.
“Thank you, Vladimir.”
He smiled, a thin-lipped grin.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia
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kirosai · 1 year
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❦ a shining beginning.
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content warnings!: sagau, yandere themes, some ooc for the harbingers, cult au, original sagau (reader teleported into genshin), gn!reader
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❥The fatui are the ones to fear. The enemy, the antagonists, but, even then you’ve always taken a liking to them. the heartbreaking stories of the harbingers, the motive of the tsaritsa and even the short world quests of the Fatui agents.
❥It was a faraway dream for you, and anyone else to meet the harbingers. They were fictional of course! So… what exactly do you do when you wake up in the shining walls of the Zapolyarny Palace?…
that doctor. dottore. he always prayed upon you in his experiments, hoping they were successful as can be. a man of ice they would call him. but naturally, he’d bow to you. How utterly ironic the man that wants to detest the seven would bow to you. though, you were the light that guided him throughout all of those tireless nights filled with despair. as did you with everyone else. so it’s only natural, right?
so if you could see under that mask you’d see nothing but amazement and respect towards you. i’d bet money on him removing his mask if you wished him to. he’d halt any experiment, any mission, all for you. technically he could say that it’s.. a way of worshiping you, yes? not even her majesty the tsaritsa deserves an ounce of the worship he gives to you on a daily.
tartaglia, or childe as we know, we’ve all met him! you understand don’t you? he’s nothing but loyal, following you around like a guard dog, taking whatever praises he could get out of you!. except. it was all through a wall. a wall he couldn’t break.. you could only think about his reaction to you here. here! right in front of him! The light that guided him through the abyss, the reason for living! you.!
all of his life, until you was pure darkness, you gave him the push he needed! the blood he sheds is all in the name of sacrifice for you. the effort, the tears, the lives, all for you! so please treat him kindly! all he wants is your love and he’ll do anything to get it! although, don’t push him too hard, won’t you grant him the mercy oh kind, enchanting creator?
pantalone. that banker with his smile, his words, sugarcoated for others, but pure sickeningly sweet honey for you. he bought the most expensive gifts for you, diamonds, sapphires, rubies, all that you could imagine. his demeanor to many is nothing but fake, sugar coated lies to make them shut up. but.. you. you were different. you had the one thing he searched for all his life; warmth from this mean, cold world.
your heart was pure gold. at least, as he saw it. nothing he’d seen before. your presence was unexpected, yes, but he secretly hoped that you wouldn’t leave. all he wishes for is to bask in your ever so divine presence. although, yes you deny any sort of yourself being a god. he brushes it off as just a simple test of loyalty, it pushes him more to keep accommodate you to the best of his abilities so you feel the need to stay. oh dear what have you gotten yourself caught into?
with his act of.. er. of trying to understand divine knowledge. scaramouche had missed your first appearance. He felt guilty, and more so angry. not at you of course, but at himself. do not fear. he’ll be back, after hearing the news about your return to teyvat, he’ll be running back like the puppet he is. afterall, you are his true creator.
he might beg for forgiveness, or he might just bow, no matter who’s he is in front of, he’s at your beck and call. and the others respect that, one thing they can all agree with is you. after all, this is just the bare minimum of what they will and can do for you. he just wants you as much as everyone else. being one of the lucky ones meeting you first in the story, he got self awareness sooner than the others. 
arlecchino, we’ve heard of her i'm sure. her loyalty to the tsaritsa is… questionable. although to you, it’s undeniable. something that the others may have a more difficult time of letting go of would be nothing but child’s play for her. she holds no true loyalty for the tsaritsa. and her majesty probably knows so, though she does nothing, because she knows how much you love arlecchino. to upset you would be a death wish.
so being able to see you in all your light and glory was eye-opening for her, looking back she never understood how she could’ve lived without you. as a child she dreamed of meeting you in person, now it’s finally happening! even a regular person could see it in her eyes. oh her eyes! how beautiful they are, she’s heard about you denying being the creator of teyvat, the god of gods, the beginning and the end, oh how she could go on and on! but, going forward, there is no reason to deny the absolute truth your grace!
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“Wake up.” a gentle voice whispers.
A shame, you were having the best dream.
A bed, unknown at the least, although it was comfortable. It felt safe, oddly enough. Laying on your mattress, it was lined with white silken sheets, the soft smell of lavender filling your nose, it had the softest place you’ve ever slept on. it felt.. Unfamiliar. 
Ah well, might as well keep sleeping. Maybe your bed was just extra comfortable today..
Wait
Muffled speaking outside the door, the whispers were untranslatable. In a foreign language you guessed. Observing your space, you realized you were in a large room, palace-like, the soft crackle of the fireplace to your left seemed to be the only warmth of the room. not your own room, or even house to say so. It was cold, but beautiful.
Oh! Of course. You must still be dreaming haha. Why else would you be here? Might as well just go back to sleep and wake up. right?
Which is what you do, but the horror of finding out you couldn't, you tried everything you could.. In the span of 3 minutes you tried, going back to sleep, pinching yourself, closing your nose, then just closing your eyes really, really hard.
But, none of those worked, so it must be.. you were actually here. In real life. D-did you get kidnapped? Oh my god you got kidnapped! You have to find a way out, it’s just like those wattpad fanfictions!- holy crap your-
*creeek*
“Your grace? ah, you’re awake. Is everything alright? You gave us quite the scare there. Hmmh.” an all too familiar face.
Staring in awe, realization settles in. Wait… WAIT. That's Pantalone, from genshin impact?? this can't be real! And did he just say “your grace” is he talking about you??
“W-wait? huh? Where am I? and, what do you mean “your grace” ” you can only imagine what you look like right now.
“You’re in the Zapolyarny Palace in Snezhnaya of course. and why else would I be calling you your grace? you are the creator of Teyvat. Though, if you prefer another name, I'll be happy to oblige. ” a soft smile rises to his face. 
Gosh.. his voice is so euphonious. He walks closer to check your temperature, removing his glove and placing a hand on your temple. 
“Seems like your fever is gone.” his smile deepens. Dimples.
And before you can say anything someone else walks in.
All and behold another harbinger, Tartaglia!
“You seem to be getting comfortable. You were sent back to check on their grace, not to hog their attention.” the ginger says.
Flabbergasted, jaw probably hitting the floor, you still cannot understand what in the world is going on.
Pantalone turns to him. “Their grace’s fever has gone down. I’m just doing my duty, no need to be jealous.” his oh so perfect banker smile is put back on, but it seems a little less genuine towards Tartaglia.
“Uhm.. excuse me? But I think you have the wrong person, I'm in no way a god, just a regular person, also, what is happening??!”
the two stare at you, then each other, and back at you again, and then stare at each other.
“Ah... It seems as if the fever has contracted memory loss. Alert the second about this Tartaglia. Other than that. I will help their grace meet the others. maybe that will run their memory right.”
Tartaglia opens his mouth, but whatever he has to say never comes out, curiosity of what he was planning to say plagues you. Though he walks out before the thought can get any further. He’s most likely going to Dottore as told by the ninth.
“Now your grace, I understand your confusion, but let's go to the others. and I'm sure Her Majesty the Tsaritsa would just be delighted to know you are awake.”
a small nod comes from you, excitement spreads through your body, oh my gosh oh my gosh!! You’re going to be meeting The Harbingers and The Cryo Archon!! Although, it seems you're unable to look at the bigger picture of what your story has in store for you.
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WHERE THE SAGAU FANS GO????
repost from old blog!
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Yandere HSR men with baby fever (might make a part 2 when we get more male characters)
WARNING! This post contains NSFW content!
Minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! Any and all rulebreakers will be blocked!
CW: Yandere content, NSFW content, dubcon at best, talk of pregnancy, implied afab reader but nothing concrete so technically still gender neutral
Btw if you're wondering why Blade isn't here, I don't think he has a breeding kink, as I explained here
I also wanted to add Luocha, but I don't know enough about his character yet (I haven't finished the current story, sue me).
Dan Heng
His breeding kink is very subtle in the beginning and doesn't come in full force until later (aka when he gets his dragon form)
If he hasn't unlocked that form, it's something that he can ignore most of the time
But once those dragon instincts kick in, it's over
Now the only thing he wants to do is breed you day in and day out
I think he would actually start growling if you even bring up the very idea of condoms or any other contraceptive
And there's no hiding any sort of anti-pregnancy medicine or herbs
He can sniff them out
He can also probably tell the time when you are most fertile and when that time comes... Yeah, you're not leaving him for a long time
Gepard
If the HSR men, I'd say he has the biggest breeding kink, despite him having hated it before
He didn't have the best relationship with his father when he was younger, and in his teenage rebellion phase he made an oath never to have kids as a 'fuck you' to his dad
But after becoming obsessed with you all those years of denial and the walls he built up broke down and suddenly he couldn't not imagine you pregnant with his 9th child
In the end his denial came back to bite him in the ass because this new kink is hitting him like a freight train and the ride is not stopping anytime soon
The concepts of 'you' and 'big happy family' have become welded together in his fucked up mind's vision of your relationship
Whenever he does have his way with you, he has no intention of hiding his desires
He's fucking into you raw, going for multiple rounds, and even plugs up the hole just in case
Jing Yuan
Probably has the second biggest breeding kink (dragon Dan Heng not included)
Since the people of the Loufu live such long lives, evolutionarily speaking, there's really no point in one having a high sex drive
Jing Yuan seems to look that rule and spit in its metaphorical face
He only has horny thoughts when it comes to you
Well, okay, not only, but still a lot
Wouldn't it be nice to give Yanqing a little sibling? What about two? Heck, why stop there, why not seven or more?
Yes, he may be a general, but there's no conflict going on, so why don't you let him enjoy the peace and happiness of having a family
Oh, right, he has to make one first
But there's no need to rush this, he can take his time and enjoy you to the fullest in the meantime
Ironic how he has the energy and want to fuck you absolutely senseless, but cannot muster any of that strength to do his actual job
Sampo
Sampo just likes kids (I hc he brings the kids of the Underworld candy and other snacks from the Overworld whenever he goes to do his "job")
Why shouldn't he want kids of his own?
He feels like the type to put on the condom, but then remove it when you're not paying attention
Welt
We know that this Welt is the same Welt from HI3rd, and he did take that version of Bronya as his adopted daughter
He just really likes kids and is always happy to take care of them
A true family man
I don't even know if he can still have kids after being alive for 80+ years tho, but I suppose that in their sci-fi world they've found a cure for 'pp and balls no work' condition
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jymwahuwu · 9 months
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Summary: You have been kidnapped and sold as a pet. Blade wants a pet. Content Warning: kidnapping, non-con, dehumanization, body modification (just nipples ><), lactation, humiliation, yandere
dark content, minors DNI
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Looking for a promise of love? Searching through 3,000 planets, but can't find the one you dreamed of? Everyone else says they can't provide the pet you want? Want that she/he/them/it in your life?
Space Pet Home Company has more than 5,000 pet breeds, providing you with a variety of choices. Buy now and get a free pet care and medical checkup! No matter what galaxy you place your order in, our couriers guarantee delivery to your door.
For details, please visit the official website and social media news. The precious opportunity to meet with pets is right in front of you!
*(According to the newly revised "Interstellar Pet Act", the company can make a little body modification without compromising the life rights and health of pets.)
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Last week a man who lived down the street was taken and disappeared. People are talking about it. It was the employees of the Space Pet Home Company who caught him. Those disrespectful aliens roam the galaxies, capturing random species to sell. This is contemptible. Still, there's nothing anyone can do about it. Under the gaze of a powerful space civilization, the planet you live in is trampled like ants.
On the way home, you browsed the news with your mobile phone, and found that some people searched for the man's photo and selling price on the official website, and posted it on the discussion forum. They offer to raise funds to buy him back to the planet. This is already the most likely way to redeem them to their original planet. You clicked on a link to the pet company's website. Ironically, that's a cute design with clouds and a rainbow, and a little animation that brings the pet home. The website loaded for a while, and a picture of the man was displayed. He looked at the camera with a calm expression on his face. You have no idea what they did to him.
Name: ▄▆▄▂▅▅▄▃
Price: 200000
Below is a description of the pet. You read a few words and feel so sick and horrified. There is also "More Recommendations", which introduces pets of different species, from cats, tentacles, humans to supernatural creatures.
You close the page and want to donate some money. However, you feel a cold, prickly sensation in the back of your neck.
Half a second later, as if stepping on air in the sky, you plummet.
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Blade was more irritable than ever. This time, the target of the mission made a provocation, leaving some traces, deliberately mocking them. He then "solved" them, a little rougher than usual. The problem is, for the next three days, he was just as "rough". He even declined Silver Wolf's invitation to play a racing game together. Silver Wolf remained expressionless, indicating that she didn't care, but the atmosphere became a little depressed.
"Bladie, did you know? Elio said you're getting a pet this month."
"I don't need a pet." No doubt, that's stupid.
Kafka's eyes narrow, and smiles. She said in a certain, seductive tone. "Are you sure? Imagine getting that little kiss after a mission…kneeling down to relieve you…"
"No," he snapped, getting up and walking into the darkness.
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"Currently scanning for physical condition-"
"Number E92730012 is in good condition. Everything is fine."
"Suggestion: Transform the nipples into a breast-feeding state, and add drugs to enhance sensitivity."
You are in a coma, two robotic arms grab your hand and stretch out, and two needles are aimed at your nipples on both sides to inject medicine. Some subtle changes are transforming your boobs.
"Hmm…" Your head shook slightly, but your eyelids were so heavy that you couldn't open them, and you could only bear the sensitivity and a little pain on your chest. The machine continued to inject the medicine without mercy, and gradually, some white milk flowed out from the flower buds, dripping on the ground, exuding a sweet smell.
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Not this… and not this.
None of them fit.
If the other Stellaron Hunters saw Blade now, they'd think he was nostalgic about something and wouldn't bother. No one knew he was looking at the official website of Space Pet House. He has searched with keywords, but the results are still not what he wants.
He decided to go to the store in person.
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It's been three days, maybe… five days?
You can't believe that you've been captured and sold as a pet. The store was decorated like some kind of spider web, some kind of hideous lair. Placed across from you are about thirty transparent cages of various species, including six humans. Some people try to resist like you, slapping the cage and cursing at the clerk, only to get some accusing looks from them, like they are really looking at a naughty pet. Some had given up and stayed quietly in the cage, looking at the guests curiously.
Your neck is covered with a black lace choker and a heart bell. Clean water, food and toys are placed in the cage. You can't believe it and don't want to play with those toys for cats.
When those guests visit, they always whisper which pet is better and more suitable. Among all the customers, you are impressed by a certain man. His dark blue fringe draped over his forehead, and his waist was covered with long hair. His hair dangles along with certain bandages as he walks around the store. He's… charming, in every sense of the word, but creepy, with those red eyes that wander from cage to cage and finally stare at the cage you're in. This situation lasts for tens of minutes, scanning your information and prices.
You don't know if he wants to buy you, because when the clerk asks if he needs to go further and allow him to play with you for a while, he just walks away.
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"It's been seven days… still no one wants to buy this pet. Why…"
"Maybe we can help."
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"No…don't! Please! Please, I'll be good!"
You plead as you struggle. The clerk still pulls down your sheer clothes, exposing your breasts and locking your hands above your head. The tears in your eyes are swirling, whimpering, thick milk flowing down the swollen breasts.
The door bell rang and two guests came in. They looked around the store. When they caught a glimpse of you, their eyes visibly lit up and they walked in your direction.
"Today's special offer, milk production anytime...?" One of the guests read out the information under your cage in a low voice - that's the first time you know what's written there. The way they look at your naked breasts seems to be on fire in you. "sounds good."
"Didn't know you were interested in that." Another guest snickered.
"Such a beautiful little thing can change my mind. I hope this time the pet will not be destroyed so quickly…"
You shudder at the implications of his words - this is a lunatic who isn't taking care of pets. what should you do? What if you were bought by this person? You may be facing a more dire situation than you are now…
There is a raging and dangerous atmosphere wandering in the store. You see that familiar face from behind the two customers. He stood behind them, but didn't seem to see them at all. He feels his crotch tighten when he notices your breasts dripping with milk.
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He licks away any sweet milk that pervades your swollen buds, sweet, rich, and creamy. His hand is rubbing your other breast and pinching your nipple. It doesn't take much force, the milk is already squirting. Your bewildered moan turns into a scream as your lower body bounces, the fluid squirting against his cock.
In the orgasm, you stick out your tongue, address him unconsciously, and touch his palm. It's cold.
"Blade." He said his name.
“…?”
You touch his chest, where the heart is beating and echoing. A warm feeling sinks in.
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