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#yandere romance
faesdreaming · 5 months
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Yandere Fae - Temptation
he just wants to know your name, that’s all. he promises.
tw: yandere themes, possessive behaviour, reader is lowkey okay with it, implied murder, unhealthy relationships, stockholm syndrome (?)
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“Come now, darling,” he croons, so very sweetly, “it’s just a name. I promise I won’t tell.”
He leans his cheek against your arm, gazing up pleadingly. You sigh as you feel your resolve waver. He— the fae— Lucian, he says his name is but you don’t know if he’s telling the truth.
Fae can’t lie, you’d been told as a child. The people of your town nary spoke of the faekind, save in warning tales. They’d told of weaknesses, of iron and salt. Lies. Falsehoods born from ignorance. Fae could lie, could weave truths of honeyed poison sweeter than any ambrosia. One thing you did know was not to tell one your name. Your grandmother had told you. She was the same woman who warned you of the dangers, who thwarted the ignorant claims of the fellow villagers
“Please.” Lucian all but whines. You can’t help but giggle in amusement. For such a powerful creature, he’s acting as though he were a puppy. “It’s just a name.”
But it’s not just a name. Name’s are powerful. They hold history, stories, one’s very being. So, you’ll refuse him once more. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Lucian tilts his head. The slightest hint of venom tinges his tone. His slit pupils are dilated double their size, like a predator catching sight of its prey. “Tell me your name.”
Lucian’s been persistent in his efforts. Ever since you moved into a cottage deep within the forest. Unable to bear the repetitive, noisy life of your village, you left. He’s been following you ever since you moved in. He’s bound, tethered to the place. To the land. Through magical means you don’t understand. Lucian adores pestering you with questions, and inane conversation, that you’ve grown to enjoy. But above all else, he seems determined to get your name. Not that you plan to give it to him.
He makes a frustrated noise, a pout forming on his lips. “You’re so stubborn.” Lucian complains. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone else, I swear.”
Liar, you think fondly, It’s cute, really, the effort he puts in.
Biting your lip, you briefly contemplate your sanity. Should others find themselves in this situation they wouldn’t be as calm. They’d panic. You should panic. You should probably run for the hills. For it’s not his status as a fae that forebodes danger. He’s— Lucian is complex.
The good-natured mask he wears is just that. A mask. One he wears for you. Your relationship with Lucian is multilayered. Surface level, it is a give and take. What he gives and what you take remains unclear. Surface level, you’re companions. But that implies trust. You don’t trust him. You’re smart enough not too.
“I’m heading out to town.” You tell him. “To the market.”
Lucian huffs. He storms off like a petulant child, intelligibly whining and a pout on his face. You roll your eyes. Gathering a basket and pulling on a cloak, you step out of the cottage. The way to town isn’t marked by a path. You memorize trees and large stones. Landmarks. You trek through the woodlands, thoughts of Lucian occupying your mind.
You hold a certain fondness for him. For the little game you two indulge in. It’s an odd affection, a tired, old one. He makes you cook for him, bemoaning your atrocious mortal cuisine as he eats all of it. He follows you around the cottage with seemingly no concept of personal space. He lingers around you, as if he were a ghost and you his haunt. He entertains you. With tall-tales spun from silk. He offers you gifts in the form of odd trinkets, flowers, nuts, sometimes gems.
Lucian perplexes you. Because despite the casualness of your relationship, you’d be a fool to not be aware of the power imbalance in between the two of you. There’s something dark, dangerous. An ancient, primal magic tethering him to the cottage. To you.
You shake off your wonderings as you reach a clearing. Down, to the left is a quaint little town. It’s sparsely populated, everyone knows everyone, at least everyone who inhabits the area. Locals are wary of travellers, yet they are not so foolish to deny potential patrons business. Their market, tavern, and inn are what’s to be expected of a place such as this. It’s sufficient for your needs, though. Far be it for you to complain.
You stop by the market, examining items being sold by the vendors. As you take an apple in hand, trying to determine whether the produce is worth it’s price, a hand reaches by you. Curiously, you sneak a glance to the person it belongs to.
You’re met with the appearance of a rugged, rogue. Weary from his travels, if you’d have to guess. He gives you half-grin half-smirk that makes your insides flutter. Normally, you’d offer him a flirtatious smile. Perhaps he’d ask to take you out for the night, to the tavern. You’d drink sweet mead and suggest stopping at an inn for the night. Spend it together. Alas, the sanctity of your normal ended upon your meeting with Lucian.
“‘Scuse me, love,” he says, voice a rough timbre. It’s so different than Lucian’s smooth, honeyed lilt. You like it. “You ain’t from ‘round here, eh?”
You nimbly step aside, appreciating the view. You should leave, you know the consequences if you stay. “No.” You tell him. “I live a little ways away.”
He smiles at that. A small little grin that’s almost a smirk. What a dangerous thing, he is. He starts chatting you up. You know what he wants from you and you’re quite certain he knows what he wants from you. You should be beyond such inhibitions— but it’s been so very long since you’d indulged in a bit of fun. So you let him take you back to his inn, slip something in his beer so when he’s done and your sated, he’ll slip right off. The moment he does, you slink away, trekking through the woods back home. Most people wouldn’t, scared of the dangers lurking. But the forest knows that the true danger resides within your home, guaranteeing your safety.
The moment you make it back, Lucian appears, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Entertaining night?”
His tone is frigid and cold, almost the same as his usual indifference. But you know him better than that. “Very.” You hum. “And yet, I’m here with you.”
“Yet you’re here with me.” He parrots. The shift in his demeanour is almost imperceptible, a change so subtle it appears meaningless. You watch as he slinks away, the satisfaction of his tone lingering throughout your mind. The affirmation, to both him and you, that you were here. That you came crawling back to him. That the pull, the tether he held on your being remained tight as ever.
That you were—
Not his. You were still your own being. You let out a shaky sigh and head up to bed. You’ve had too much to drink, you tell yourself. The next morn, when you awaken, groggily blinking, something immediately feels off. After living like this— after living with him— for so long, you’ve come to understand to trust your intuition while ignoring the warning bells ringing in your head.
You head down the stairs. Your body is heavy from your hang over. It dulls your senses. You know you need to be on guard, lest Lucian have his way. Speak of the devil, you muse, as he leans on the kitchen island smugly. “Rough night?”
“Don’t.” You warn, grabbing a pot and filling it with water to boil. Lician laughs. His laughter sharp and smooth. “Forgive me, lovely.” He croons. “I do not intend to rouse that temper of yours.”
You eye him suspiciously. Of course, you’re always suspicious in regards to him, but this behaviour is odd. Odder than usual. He usually demands you cook for him, asks for your name, then huffs when you rebuff him. It’s routine and Lucian isn’t one for breaking routine. You rake over his handsome, pointed features. He sports an usual grin. Self-satisfied and almost victorious. Then, you spot a crimson splatter along the underside of his throat.
“Is there something wrong, lovely?” He inquires, tilting his head almost as if to show you the blood stained on his neck.
Don’t give in. Don’t pay attention to it. You learned early on giving in only worsens his behaviour. “No.” You answer firmly. You avoid his question, evasive and ignorant. Your ignorance serves as a shield. “I ought to make something, barely ate yesterday.”
Lucian’s eyes flicker with both annoyance and pleasure. “Make me some too.” He orders, before sauntering off.
It sends a shiver down your spine, your compliance. Barely able to deny him, yet unable to give into him. It irks him. It also pleases him. It’s a game between the two of you. One neither of you can quit. You tow the line each time, out of selfishness. The desire to be free. To be as it was. It ends in his possessive fits, with blood shed, staining your hands crimson. Yet you continue. His attention is intoxicating. As addicting as mead. It drives you mad, tantalizes you, taunts you. But you don’t give in fully. Can’t. At least, not yet.
“Come now, lovely. I know you wish to fall into temptation with me.”
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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months
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Orc boyfriend with what he thinks is a tiny, smol mate who's so smol, so delicate, so sweet... They're actually pretty firmly built for a human, while a bit short, along with being stubborn and sassy and ready to bite heads off for their adorable XL size boyfriend.
I've got so many orc stories going right now, but you know I'm not mad about it ^_^ I love Orcs <3 There are so many different ways to write them. I have another couple of Orc asks I'm working on, as well 🥵
Orc (Cedar) x thick f reader
Word Count: 5K
Tw: sfw orc fluff, some brief descriptions of battle, brief mention of sa, size difference
More monster fluff here
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“Put the stick down, sugar. We’re not going to hurt you.” 
You scoffed at the soldiers circling you, their eyes dark with lust. 
“We just want to have some fun,” another said, his eyes drifting over your shapely hips. “Don’t you owe us a debt of gratitude for rescuing you?”  
You squeezed the iron fire poker that you had gripped in your hand. 
“Rescuing me? You didn’t get your rocks off burning down the damn village?” 
“It was a strategic maneuver,” the leader of the armored men said with an oily smile. “We are here to liberate you.” 
“By assaulting me?” you snapped. 
There was not a doubt in your mind that the second you lowered your weapon, they were going to drag you into some dark corner and act out all of the sick thoughts they had echoed on their faces. 
Your King’s soldiers weren’t good guys. When they heard there was an Orc camp nearby, they couldn’t be bothered to attack it directly. Instead, they burned down your village. They said it was to prevent them from resupplying. 
It was true you did business with the Orcs, who were technically your enemy, but they never acted like enemies. While big and quite scary-looking, they paid in gold and were always polite to the women running the shops. You never felt the least bit unsafe alone with one, and occasionally, they’d help you out with things that needed done– fixing roofs and cartwheels. The men of the town had all been conscripted for the war, so it mostly the ladies keeping the village afloat. The soldiers had made a whole lot of children and the elderly homeless. 
“Come on, sweetie, this game is getting tiresome.” 
One of the soldiers dared to approach you, and you didn’t hesitate a second, swinging your poker and smacking him so hard in the head that his helmet crunched. He collapsed on the broken boards that had once been the floor of your little noodle shop. 
“Now that’s a crime!” the leader barked.
He waved to his accomplices. 
“Get in there and restrain her!” Their eyes fell on the collapsed soldier, and they looked between one another, trying to sort out who was next to get a whomping. 
You flexed your wrist, preparing to swing at whoever came at you next, when you heard the heavy steps of an Orc approaching. The soldiers were too inexperienced to know what that sound meant. You’d heard them approach every day at dinner time for several months. It wasn’t until he was shouldering his way through what was left of your door that they took notice. 
“The enemy approaches! Your swords!” 
The Orc you knew as Ash, wrinkled his brow and let out a lilting call to gather his brethren. The ground rumbled as more heavy feet ran towards you. 
Wood splintered, and what remained of the ceiling creaked as they tore the walls away, making more room for a fight. 
Faced with five nine-foot Orc barbarians armed with axes almost as big as their bodies, the soldiers tried to run for it. You screamed as they threatened to trample you, trying to force their way through the back wall, but they never reached you. 
The Orcs didn’t need to draw their weapons, grabbing every soldier and smacking them against the ground until they stopped moving—a gruesome way to die, but practical. 
When the danger was crumpled into a wet gnarl of bones and metal, their eyes turned to you. Ash said something to his friends in their own language before he stomped across the room and plucked you up like a kitten, cradling you in his arm. 
“Hey, What do you think you’re doing?!” 
“Quiet, little one. You’ll give us away.” 
You puckered your lips at him, annoyed, as if the stomping of five tons of muscle was quiet. When you tried to wave your poker at him, he plucked it out of your hand but didn’t drop it, tucking it instead in his belt. He said something else to his friends before turning to split away from them. 
You had no reason to panic. The Orcs had never harmed you, but being taken away from the group put frightening thoughts in your head, and you instinctively started screaming. 
The Orc sighed, sounding tired, when four more soldiers came skidding around a corner, swords in hand. You looked up at him apologetically, smacking your hand over your mouth to stay the scream that didn’t want to stop. 
He set you on the roof of what was left of a building and pat you on the head, a gesture that you read as “stay” before pulling out his axe. You weren’t going anywhere, even if you wanted to. The drop was fifteen feet down, and the stairs were just charcoal at the base of the building. 
“Attack!” the leader of the soldiers shouted, but their moves in their heavy metal armor were slow. Ash swung his arm in a sweeping stroke that sliced four of them in half where they stood. The other one, eyes wide with horror, turned tail and ran. 
Replacing his axe, he picked you up again and headed into the woods. This time, you had enough sense to keep quiet. 
You’d never been to the Orc camp before, but you heard it before you saw it. The brassy sound of a grinder and hammers on metal rang through the trees, blended with the shouts of the Orcs in their language.  There were lots of huge tents and fires spotted here and there. The camp was buzzing with activity. Orcs ran around shouting at one another, some gathering weapons, some sending groups in the direction you came. You recognized many of them as some of your customers. They often came in groups and hauled away vats of the noodle stew you sold. 
A few Orcs waved at Ash but didn’t pay you much mind as he carried you to the nicest-looking tent. It had a banner outside of it with a gold bear embroidered into the fabric. Ash set you on the ground at the door and handed you your poker before patting you on the back, indicating you should go in. 
“What’s in there?” you asked. 
He said something in Orcish that you didn’t understand and walked away. There were too many other giants around to attempt an escape, so you pulled aside the fur covering the door and peeked inside. 
“Hello?” 
Your question was returned with a deep voice, smooth as a glassy pond. 
“Enter, little one.” 
Taking a few steps inside, you were faced with what you could only describe as the most handsome Orc you’d ever seen. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair fell over his shoulder in a long, dark sheet with small braids here and there. His tusks were large, but they seemed only to highlight how well his lips were formed. His features were harsh and defined but not unattractive, with a straight nose and deep-set gold eyes. The only thing you could point out as a flaw was a dark scar from his forehead to the right corner of his jaw. 
You assumed the Orcs were blunt tools, sprinting into battle with no real plan, but this one was sitting at a high table examining maps with a book in his hand. 
“I’m…I’m not sure why I’m here,” you said, brandishing your poker, though you didn’t feel like you were in any particular danger. 
“I asked Ash to fetch you,” he said without looking up. “You’re the noodle shop woman.” 
“My name is (Y/N), not “noodle shop woman,” and I don’t have a shop anymore. The soldiers burned it.” 
He put his book down and turned his gold eyes to you. 
“That’s why you’re here.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
His eyes drifted over you before they settled on the poker you were still holding up. 
“You were feeding most of the camp. If there’s no shop to visit, you can make noodles here.” 
You blinked up at him. 
“Oh…Am I your prisoner?” 
He chuckled. 
“If you’d like to go back to your people, I won’t stop you, but judging how they burned down your village without hesitation, I think you’re safer with us.” 
You had to admit that made some sense, but you still weren’t buying it. 
“I can’t stay here with you!” 
He tipped his head, the corner of his lip twitching up slightly. 
“Why is that, little one?” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
“First of all, I’m NOT little, and second, an Orc camp is no place for a lady.” 
A shudder that had nothing to do with fear shot down your spine as his eyes moved over your body. He crossed the room, scooping you up, and setting you on his table. Your feet dangled far from the ground. 
“What- What are you doing?” you snapped, waving your weapon at him. 
“My neck was hurting from looking down at you. You’re very short.”
The sparkle in his eyes told you he was teasing you, which drew heat to your cheeks. 
“Maybe compared to you. You’re unnecessarily large. What are you doing with all of that muscle? Are you going to arm wrestle your books?” you pouted, eyes drifting to the massive bicep peeking out of the fur vest he wore. 
He laughed out loud, gracing you with a wide smile. 
“You’ll fit right in here.” 
You raised your nose at him, trying to look unconvinced. 
“Where will I even sleep? All of your tents are big and drafty.” 
“Since you’ve declared your intention to court me, I wouldn’t mind if you slept here.” 
“Declared my intention to— Where did you get that idea?” 
He flicked a fingertip at your poker. 
“In the old days, Orc females came to their males' tent and threatened them into submission with their favorite weapon.” 
Your cheeks burned like hot irons, and you almost dropped it. 
“Well…I’m not trying to court you. It’s for protection.” 
He snorted at you but nodded his head. 
“If you say so, little one, but it will be much warmer in my tent if it’s drafts you’re worried about.” 
“I don’t even know your name. Ash called you something in your language. I didn’t understand…” 
He examined one of the feet you had dangling over the edge of his table. Compared to his big hand, it was tiny. 
“Cautalin, it means something close to general in your language, but you can call me Cedar. That’s what my mother named me.” 
Your eyes traveled over his barrel chest and thick arms. 
“Seems about right,” you said, finally setting your poker down. 
He picked it up, looked it over, and tested the weight in his hand. 
“Not a bad choice,” he said. “Light but effective.” 
You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, feeling cheeky. 
“Do you feel like submitting?” 
You watched a flicker of heat ignite in his eyes, and he slowly set it down. 
“Come on, let's get you to bed, killer.” 
He picked you up again, walking you over to a large pallet covered in furs. 
“This is your bed.” 
He gave you another smile. 
“We’re in the middle of a battle; I won't be sleeping tonight. It's all yours.” 
Though you weren't quite sure about sleeping in his bed, weariness overtook you at the sight of the comfortable, cozy furs, and you crawled in, wrapping yourself up to your chin in blankets. 
He put your poker next to you and blew out the candle, slipping out the front flap as you dozed. 
— 
You woke to yelling, but not the sound of battle. Crawling out of your furs, you picked up your poker and peeled out of the flap Cedar used as a door. Another Orc you didn't recognize was the one yelling, and Cedar had his arms crossed, looking bored. 
Your eyes drifted to about twenty women, elderly, and children, cowering in the chilly morning air, their faces streaked with soot from the fire.
“They’re our enemies!” the strange Orc barked. 
“Really, Asvoth? Are you really afraid of a handful of children and their mothers?” 
“This is a war camp, not a nursery.” 
“It's my camp, not yours. They stay.” 
“I outrank you. I can take your command.” 
Cedar snorted. 
“Yet the King hasn't trusted you with a unit of your own. You're nothing more than an errand boy with a fancy title. Any of these children could take your job.” 
Asvoth’s face turned a deep forest green from both embarrassment and indignation. He yanked the sword he wore on his back to his hand. Without thinking, you hopped in front of Cedar, waving your poker at the intruder. You had no idea why, a fact you only considered after you’d already put yourself in harm's way. Still, you'd made your move so the only thing to do was follow through. 
“You heard Cedar! We’re not leaving! Get on if you know what's good for you!” 
Asvoth sprung forward, dropping his sword toward your head. Your eyes squeezed shut, preparing for pain, but there was only the clang of metal. Opening one eye, you glanced up to see Cedar’s axe blocking the other Orc’s blow. 
There was a moment when you thought Asvoth might overtake him, but Cedar’s muscles weren't all for show. He shoved the other Orc back, and he toppled over, landing on his butt in the dirt. His sword landed in front of the children with a CLANG. 
“Woah!”  the little ones cheered, circling around it like it was a strange animal. 
A few of them tried to pick it up, but it was far too heavy, making their eyes pop even wider.
Cedar nodded at him, and a pair of Orcs from the camp dragged Asvoth up by the collar of his tunic, pushing him towards the forest.  
“I'm reporting this!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stumbled towards the woods. 
Cedar waved a hand at one of his Orcs, beckoning him closer. 
“You and Orin follow him and make sure the King gets our side of the story, not his.”  
When the situation seemed settled, Cedar looked down at you and patted your head. 
“Thank you for your protection, little suitor,” he said with a smirk. 
Your cheeks blew up in flames, but you puffed your chest and looked at the children watching Ash pick up the abandoned sword. They hopped around him like little bunnies, begging him to teach them to use it. 
“I have no idea what you mean! I’m here to make noodles! Point me in the direction of my kitchen! These little mouths are probably hungry.” 
He chuckled, but guided you with a large hand on your back to a large tent filled with whatever food supplies they had rescued from the village. You wrinkled your nose at the primitive workspace, but there were enough flour and eggs to work with. You were surprised to find someone had stuck in a lower table, perfect for your height. After washing your hands in a water basin, you got to cooking. 
“What are you still doing here?” you asked Cedar, who had plopped down in a chair and was reading a book. 
He smiled. 
“Reading.” 
You blinked at him, putting your floury fists on your hips. “Are you surveilling me? I’m not going to poison you all! I have to eat this too, you know.” 
He tipped his head to the side, his gold eyes sparkling in the makeshift hearth. 
“The sound of cooking is soothing. I liked to study in the kitchen while my mother cooked when I was a boy.” 
You looked him up and down. 
“I can’t imagine you as a child.” 
You thought for a second, tapping your chin. 
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Orc child, actually.” 
He looked back down at his book, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. 
“You will,” he said as he flipped a page. 
Your brow wrinkled at that nebulous statement, but you knew everyone was hungry after the long night, so you got back to work. 
By midmorning, you had a stewpot big enough to feed an army filled with noodles, vegetables, and what little bit of venison the Orcs had been able to hunt between the battle. 
“All done,” you said, clapping your hands and creating a puff of flour in the air. 
Cedar got up and shouted something to his men, and two Orcs appeared to carry the big vat into the central circle so it could be served. You felt a sense of satisfaction when all the bowls were passed out and the children, tired humans, and bloodied Orcs were eating. The mothers spoke quietly between one another, while the children could hardly sit still, their big eyes following the Orcs every movement. 
“Here.” 
You looked up to find Cedar holding a bowl out to you. A grumbling stomach had you accepting it, and he patted the seat next to him for you to sit down. The two of you ate quietly for a moment before you asked him a question. 
“What are you going to do with all of us?” 
“Hmm?” he asked. 
“Well, I mean when the battle is over. We have nowhere to go. Our town is destroyed.” 
He looked at the children who, after scarfing down their bowls, were engaged in some game with Ash. 
“I was hoping you would all return to our capitol city with us. That’s where we live when we’re not fighting.”
Your eyebrows jumped. 
“To the Orc city? We’re humans. Don’t your people hate us?” 
He shrugged. 
“There are some weak minds who reveal their own fragility with their hate, but the rest of us like your kind. This whole war started because we wished to create allies amongst the humans.” 
“What? The soldiers said you attacked!” 
He chuckled. 
“Your king has a very effective propaganda engine. That’s probably the only thing about him that is effective. We sent a delegation party to him to discuss our interest in mingling with you humans. You all are prolific; despite your size, you’re a sturdy bunch. We thought marriages would bolster our numbers and strengthen your stock. Your King attacked, and we were forced to defend ourselves. The force that attacked us was decimated, and he declared war.” 
“You mean…you wish to mate with us?” 
His eyes slid down to you, and he gave you a sharp nod. 
“Is that so surprising?” 
You thought about it for a moment. 
“I don’t know…Maybe a little. You’re so strong. You’re not afraid we’ll diminish you?” 
His thick hand cupped your chin and rubbed some flour away with his thumb. Your heart raced at his touch. 
“Size is not what makes us strong. Our strength lies in our unbreakable bonds. Your King will be defeated, not because his forces are less than ours, but because he orders his men to betray his own people.” 
He nodded towards the children, who were playing chicken fight on Ash and another Orc’s shoulders. 
“They will remember it was men who burned down their village, stole their fathers from them, assaulted their mothers and Orcs who took them in, fed them, and helped them smile again. 
“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed. 
His smile widened. 
“I will remember you took up arms to protect me against an enemy twice your size. You belong among the us.” 
Suddenly the wool dress you wore was much too hot. 
“I should go wash these before the next meal,” you squeaked, grabbing his empty bowl and scurrying away.
Once safe in the kitchen tent, you pressed your hand against your chest, trying to still your heart. Why did Cedar make you feel so fluttery? You’d never felt this way around anyone before. You usually kept to yourself and steered clear of romance. It had to be the battle, you decided. You were still hyped up from the night before. In a day or so, you were sure it would pass. 
Dunking empty bowls in ice-cold river water helped cool your thoughts as you tried to focus on what to make for dinner. The Orcs stocks were pretty hefty, but they and the children ate a lot. You’d noticed many of the parents tipping some of their bowls into their little one’s, making sure they were fed properly in case the next meal didn’t come. 
It saddened you it had to be this way. What horrible person decides to burn down their own citizens' village? Who was the King even protecting you from? Not the Orcs, that’s for sure. 
A loud rabble outside dragged your attention away from the dishes, and you picked up your poker before peeking your head outside. 
A few Orc scouts were speaking in rapid Orcish to Cedar. When they paused, his eyes immediately looked around for the children and frowned before he spoke to you all. 
“The human King has sent reinforcements. They will close on our camp by nightfall.” 
The mothers all gathered their children to their skirts, looking weary. 
“Women and children to the kitchen tent! We will keep you safe, but you must stay hidden!” 
You made way as a small stampede of humans rushed past you, many pushing their children to hide under the table. 
“What’s happening?” You asked Cedar as people and Orcs rushed around. 
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, looking disturbed. 
“Someone ran back to your King with a story that we’d kidnapped you, not taken you in from starving in a burnt-down village. We will win this fight, but then we will have to make the journey back to the capitol. They will keep attacking if they think you’re within their grasp. Do you think you can explain this to your people? We don’t intend to take anyone by force, but I wouldn’t trust the King’s soldiers.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”
You hurried back to the kitchen, where the humans were muttering to one another. 
“Should we flee to the forest?” Isla, the former town candlemaker, asked. “Can we depend on the Orcs to protect us?” 
Another woman scoffed. 
“We can’t trust anyone. These Orcs are kind now, but they’ll sell us out at the drop of a hat.” 
Linda, a quiet woman who worked as a weaver, whimpered. 
“But we’ll starve in the forest alone. Word is the King’s men have raized every town for fifty miles!” 
You inserted yourself into the conversation, holding up your hands. 
“No one needs to escape to the woods. The Orcs are going to take us back to their capitol to keep us safe.” 
Linda squeaked in horror. 
“The Orc capitol?! Where they can enslave us?!” 
“They have no plan to enslave you. Don’t you want your children to be safe? We will be safe behind their walls!” 
“Or…when the King takes the city we’ll all be hung as traitors!” 
“Shawna, don’t put that in her head. Linda, we’ll be fine. I trust Cedar.” 
You paused on that thought, realizing not only was it true, it didn’t make any sense. You’d only just met him. Your conversation was interrupted by the shouting of men outside. 
“We’ll talk about this later,” you hissed, “Here, take this.” 
You armed the humans with whatever haphazard weapons you could find, mostly butcher knives and skillets. 
Outside, you could hear the clang of weapons and the squelching sounds of metal piercing flesh. 
“What's happening?” Linda asked, trying to get around you so she could peek out of the tent flap. 
“Stay back!” You barked. “If they see us, we’re in trouble!” 
You could tell she was losing it, hopping from one foot to another, her hands getting slippery on her knife. 
“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to go with the Orcs. Even a human monster is better than them!” 
Before you could grab her, she skipped through the doorway, running wildly into the fray. The other humans gathered around you, their opinions spilling out like loose marbles. 
“What is she thinking?!” 
“Linda, come back!” 
“Let her go, she’s nuts.” 
You clenched your jaw, squeezing your iron poker. 
“She’s scared. I’ll go get her…you all stay put!” 
Before anyone could stop you, you darted after her, trying to catch sight of her red skirt through the mess of armour-clad humans and massive Orcs. The King had sent a much larger force than the one that had burned down your village. The battle around you was brutal. You almost slipped on a puddle of blood, your eyes frantically searching for Linda. 
You found her pointing her knife with shaking hands at a human soldier. 
“What are you doing? I’m a human, too!” 
“The King ordered you all dead!” he snarled, raising his sword at her. “No witnesses! Come on, do your duty to the kingdom, and die quietly!” 
Panicking, you launched yourself at him, whacking him with your poker as you barreled into him. The two of you went down, metal clashing as you fell and dropped your weapons. Both of you scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked earth. You could hear Linda screeching beside you as you tried to overpower the soldier. His armor, now slick with mud, made it impossible to get a hold of him, and he triumphantly dragged himself to his sword, clumsily grabbing it by the blade and flinging it in your direction. You saw the metal flash in the firelight before pain exploded between your eyes, and your vision went black. 
“Please tell me she’s not dead,” you heard Linda’s voice from far away. 
Isla scoffed. 
“You’d better hope she’s not, Linda. This is all your fault!” 
“I'm sorry!” she simpered, “I made a mistake! I thought the soldiers were here to free us!” 
“Free us from what? A good meal and a safe place to sleep?”
You dragged your eyelids open, vision blurry for a moment before it cleared. 
“What…what happened?” you murmured. 
“She’s awake!” Isla gasped. 
You felt her cool hands against your cheek. 
“Take it slow, here; have some water.” 
She pushed a tin cup into your hands, and you wet your palette with a few sips. Looking around, you were surrounded by the humans, all looking very concerned. 
“Is everyone okay?” you asked. 
Isla smirked, and the other women tittered a bit. 
“Thanks to you, I suppose. That chieftain or warlord or whatever saw you get knocked in the head and went berzerk. He killed most of the soldiers all by himself.” 
Another woman poked her head out of the tent. 
“She’s okay! You guys can untie him!” 
“Untie who? Is the battle over?” 
Isla nodded.
“Yeah, all the soldiers are dead. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up so we can move the camp before the King sends anymore. Can you believe he ordered them to kill us? I guess so he could claim the Orcs did it and get more support for the war.”
She smirked at you. 
“And as for who's tied up, your Orc friend thought you were dead. The others had to tie him up so he wouldn’t go on a rampage. He was ready to storm the King’s stronghold! You ought to see the ropes they had to use…thick as your waist!” 
You heard the roll of stomping feet, and Cedar burst through the tent flap. His hair was wild, and his tunic was red with blood. He fell to his knees in front of you, holding his hands as if he couldn’t decide if you were safe to touch. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, carefully prodding the bandage you had wrapped around your head. “That monster didn’t do any permanent damage, did he?” 
“She’ll have a scar,” Isla said, “but I think she’s fine.” 
Cedar’s face lightened, pulling you towards him, his big arms wrapping around you. 
“Thank the goddess,” he sighed with a heavy breath. “I thought they’d taken you from me.” 
He cupped your cheeks between his palms when he finally let you go. 
“You are so stupidly brave, little one,” he gasped, eyes wet. “You have more honor than your people deserve.” 
Behind him, Isla waved the women out of the tent, leaving the two of you alone. Not used to so much intimate attention, your cheeks warmed, and you weren’t sure where to look. 
“I just didn’t want Linda to get hurt,” you muttered. 
He gave you an odd smile, scooping you out of the cot you’d woken up in. 
“Once I get you to our home in the capitol, I’m going to have to keep you locked up for your own safety,” he said, patting your head. 
You looked up at him from where you were tucked, leaning on his bicep. 
“Our home?” 
He grinned at you, counting on his fingers. 
“First step to Orc courting: Threaten your desired with your weapon. Done. Step two: Allure them with your cooking skills, cooking or hunting something delicious. Done. And the final step: Display your honor through a grand act of bravery. Done! You’ve effectively and thoroughly seduced me, little one! All that’s left is to take you home!” 
He tipped your chin up with one thick finger and dipped his head to press his lips against yours. Your whole body felt like it was made of butterflies, every nerve flickering with excitement. Despite being covered in blood and mud, his kiss tasted like honey and sage. It felt like a warm cup of tea on a chilly morning. Your eyelashes fluttered shut and you sank into his warmth, despite yourself, happy to be alive and in his arms.
“Oh!” you gasped as he straightened his neck.
Your mouth fell open, unsure what to say. Before you could think of anything, Cedar carried you out of the tent, shouting orders at his men to pack up the camp so you could leave for the capitol.
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merchen-aeravellae · 4 months
Text
Deep in the Forest
Yandere Enemy x Reader
Warning: decapitation, death, war mentions
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Two kingdoms engulfed in a conflict that spans generations, peace is no longer an option, and the thirst for revenge permeates the entire surrounding land. But battles are no longer the darkest things you can encounter in this desolate place.
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Yandere Enemy, who is a warrior, trains day and night with the purpose of protecting his rulers and his people from the threat posed by the neighboring kingdom.
Yandere Enemy, like the rest of the inhabitants of Nocheblanca kingdom, grew up with the idea that the Rosazul kingdom was eternal enemies of Nocheblanca and should be eliminated, but they are currently in a temporary ceasefire.
Yandere Enemy was training deep in the forest that connects both kingdoms, as he did every day, when he heard a noise behind a tree.
Yandere Enemy was surprised to find another person outside the grounds of the kingdom but quickly shifted to a battle stance when he noticed that it was a person from Rosazul.
Yandere Enemy expected to fight you, but all you did was raise your hands in a peaceful gesture and stepped back to give him space.
Yandere Enemy examined you from head to toe, and by your attire, he could tell you were a type of healer. He lowered his sword slightly but remained alert in case you made any movements that could indicate a fight.
Yandere Enemy only looked at you for a few more minutes, and when he realized you weren't leaving, he decided to leave first to break the awkwardness that had enveloped both of you. However, that wouldn't be the last time you two would encounter each other.
Yandere Enemy began to notice your presence every time he went to the forest to train, and no matter how much he changed his location, you always seemed to find him. At first, he threatened to kill you to be left alone, but when that didn't seem to work, he simply ignored you.
Yandere Enemy injured his hand one day while training but decided to continue as if nothing had happened. When you noticed this, you decided to help him. He refused at first, but when he realized you wouldn't take no for an answer, he had no choice but to accept.
Yandere Enemy, after a few weeks of this event, started tolerating you a bit more, and even had a couple of conversations that weren't threats. Unbeknownst to him, he was starting to feel comfortable with your presence.
Yandere Enemy, who began to hate himself, after months of interacting with you, came to the conclusion that he had developed romantic feelings for you. These feelings were forbidden, but he couldn't stop them he didn't want them to stop and they grew with each passing day.
Yandere Enemy knows that this would be considered treason to his homeland, but every time he saw you smile, that thought faded from his mind.
Yandere Enemy gathered the courage to confess his feelings to you, fearing rejection or the possibility that you might never want to see him again. He became the happiest man in the world when you admitted to having feelings for him too.
Yandere Enemy no longer went to the forest to improve his fighting skills; now his reason for going was you. He always brought an object that might interest you, or he would wait for you with a picnic.
Yandere Enemy was surprised when you told him that you had knowledge of healing and medicinal herbs because it had been a practice in your family for generations. It was also the reason why you were in the forest the first time you met.
Yandere Enemy, knowing you two couldn't hide forever and fearing what would happen if both were discovered, he asked begged you to escape together. Far away from both kingdoms, far from the fear of being separated, he wanted to find a place where you could create a life in peace, a place where you could be happy.
Yandere Enemy jumped for joy when you accepted his proposal. He couldn't help but embrace you, and for that brief moment, everything was happiness, until it wasn't.
Yandere Enemy returned to his home in Nocheblanca to start packing all his valuable belongings and clothes for the long journey ahead for both of you. However, halfway through packing, screams and lamentations were heard outside his house.
Yandere Enemy discovered that the heir of Nocheblanca and his guards had been killed while they were out hunting, including Yandere Enemy's brother, who was one of the personal guards of the Prince.
Yandere Enemy saw red the moment he learned that his brother had been murdered, probably by warriors from Rosazul. At that moment, all the hatred he had for them, which had been buried deep in his mind because you had occupied it, resurfaced.
Yandere Enemy, who began to plan his revenge, completely forgetting the plan to escape with you. His brother was one of the few people important to him, and now he was gone. Convincing the population of Nocheblanca to attack Rosazul was not difficult for him, and by the dawn of the sixth day, Rosazul had fallen. The royal family was in the dungeons, awaiting execution, but not before being tortured in the cruelest manner possible.
Yandere Enemy had a reality check at that moment. In his pursuit of revenge, he left you standing on the same day you two were supposed to escape together. Panic and terror consumed him as he searched for you among the prisoners, in the forest, and in the place he feared the most—among the corpses. But there was no trace of you.
Yandere Enemy became a war hero; now he had enough power to save you from the cruel fate of the rest of the inhabitants of Rosazul but it seemed like you had vanished into the air. He searched for you for two months and as more time passed, madness began to take hold of his mind, and regret consumed his bones.
Yandere Enemy decided to kill the heir to the throne, wanting to take revenge on the person "responsible" for keeping him away from you. If it weren't for the prince and his guards, the two of you would be living your best lives in a distant place.
Yandere Enemy didn't stop there. To make him suffer more, he decided that his entire family should witness his inevitable death. The guillotine and the prince were ready, with all other family members in a row, bound arms and sacks over their heads.
Yandere Enemy, who witnessed the exact moment when the heir's head was severed and when the sacks were removed from the heads of the royalty, he wanted to die at that moment. Now he understood why he never found your whereabouts, why he couldn't locate you—because you were with your family, in the dungeon.
Yandere Enemy never imagined that you were a member of the royalty of Rosazul, but he couldn't be angry with you for that. He knows that everyone makes mistakes, and he forgives you for not telling him earlier, just as you will forgive him for what he did to your kingdom and family.
Yandere Enemy, who went to the dungeons in the middle of the night to see you, found only a pitiful sight. You were handcuffed to the wall, beaten and wearing dirty and torn clothes, your gaze lost somewhere on the grimy wall.
Yandere Enemy approached you with the intention of hugging you, but he didn't expect you to scream. Every attempt he made to touch you ended in screams and your lamentations. The few words you spoke were filled with anger and hatred directed towards him.
Yandere Enemy is convinced that you only need a new place far away from others. He tries to talk to you about the plans you two had before to lift your spirits, but it doesn't seem to be working.
Yandere Enemy knows that the longer you stay here, the more likely it is that you'll be killed, so he steals you away while everyone is asleep, taking you far away to a hidden place where no one will find you both. He is sure that this will bring back the old you, the one who was deeply in love with him. He had to knock you out, tie you up, and cover your mouth in case you wake up early, but it will be worth it.
Yandere Enemy who found a cabin deep in the forest connecting to another kingdom, "mysteriously" the former owners disappeared, and now it belongs to the two of you.
Yandere Enemy knows that you still fear him, but not for long. He will make you love him again, and if it still doesn't work, he won't let you go. He prefers to have you even if you hate him for the rest of your life than not have you at all.
Yandere Enemy "I refuse to let you go, I don't care if you hate me, curse me, or hit me. We will always be together, whether you want it or not."
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Extra information, Nocheblanca is known for its warriors while Rosazul for its healers.
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forbidden-sunlight · 5 months
Text
yandere!Alastor with gender-neutral!tinkerer!reader headcanons
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Warning: obsessive behavior, implied violence, stalking, implied manipulation, and knowledge based on the 2019 pilot episode.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
If you would like to read the SFW version of these headcanons, there are some written by @isuckatwritingsobenice. I will leave the link to them here.
Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice, @angelltheninth, and @ceoofdabicorpsensfw for providing feedback and helping me shape up these headcanons into what they are today, my first Hazbin Hotel fic in quite a long time!
If you would like to me to keep up the momentum and write more for Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss, please let me know via a request or in the comments section below!
With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! :)
Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades!
He will not fall for someone who is naive and oblivious to the dangers that lurk around every corner. His preference for a darling is someone who is intelligent, yet malleable to his manipulative machinations, though he would call it being a considerable gentleman.
So, imagine his surprise when you, the maintenance operator Charlie had hired during the hotel’s open house after being thoroughly impressed with your resume, piqued his interest. He had heard that you were very good at repairing broken things. Whatever it was that needed to be fixed, you could do it efficiently and with a smile.
The only thing you would not touch, however, were Angel’s sex toys. He found you at Husk’s bar, whining and clutching what looked like a purple cucumber with a white handle, coated in….an unknown substance. You looked at it, then back at Angel, confused and blinking owlishly at him. You asked him to hold it up in the light so you could see it, just don’t let it touch you because…well, you really did not want to.
The adult film star did, and you tilted your head to the side, staring at it for a moment before pulling away.
“It should be an easy fix.” You said. “Do you think it is a higher priority than preventing the hotel from being flooded with water?” You asked, glancing up at him. The genuinity in your voice as you spoke to him, curious and asking if fixing his device is really more important at the moment, made Alastor chuckle from the shadows. Dear ol’ Husker looked like he was about to keel over from laughter too~!
“If it’s an easy fix like ya say it is, then yes!” Angel whined. “I need it fixed by tomorrow! Can ya maybe work on it, like, after you make sure this place doesn’t get flooded?”
You blinked. “That shouldn’t be an issue. Okay. Did you try looking for the manual in the box it came in?”
“There’s a manual for it in there?!”
You nodded. “There should be. Or at least a phone number for customer service.”
Oh, such dialogue between two unique characters brightened Alastor’s mundane afternoon considerably and deepened his interest in the ever diligent and mild-mannered sinner who never seemed to stop working!
He watched you from the shadows, learning about your likes and dislikes and your….relationships with the others, clients and hotel staff alike. None of which, as he has seen, never went beyond the boundary of polite professionalism. Imagine his surprise when his shadow discovered your daily ritual to lock yourself in the maintenance office and curl up on the couch in there for an hour nap, and how you cannot sleep without the vintage radio on your desk being played on low volume. As much as he wanted to sweep you off of your feet with a night around the city and a lovely candlelit dinner, Alastor could not act too recklessly. That wasn’t how his mother raised him. No, no, no, he was a gentleman!
And a gentleman knows how to bide his time in the art of courting. Expect him to flood your office with bouquets, expensive gifts, and a request to personally fix his microphone even when it was working just perfectly.
Who knows? Perhaps while you’re sleeping soundly, in your office or in your bedroom, he will turn the knob of your radio just a little to the left so it is the music of his radio station that fills the silence. Think of it as….insurance. With the magic he possessed as an overlord, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to comprehend that he did care about you in his own way. And he would like to think you will, in time, come to enjoy his music with a smile.
After all, you’re never fully dressed without one!
Bonus Content
If you accept his courtship, Alastor’s possessiveness will reach to the point where he will absolutely insist that you should move into his quarters and share the bed. For his peace of mind and your own protection.
After all, you’re his precious little doe. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in this cesspool~.
Taglist
@angelltheninth
@isuckatwritingsobenice
@selineram3421
@vikkirosko
@nixie-writes
@thatstonedwriter
@lbcreations-blog
@aurora-rose-miller
@yosemitecleo
@doc-tooth
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yanteetle · 7 months
Note
Do you have any more yan!Raph sketches you'd be willing to share? 👉👈
Because like idk how to describe it the way you draw him is just so cuddly and omg my sweet slightly insane baby-- 😔🙏
(No pressure or anything sorry if this comes off as kinda demanding!!)
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sure thing! I have a few Raph sketches that I don't really plan on finishing, so I may as well dump it here :)) I love him so much I need to draw him more <33 I loved the idea that before kidnapping y/n, he'd made a plushie of them and knit cute little blankets and outfits for them while kissing the mini yn plushie goodnight and tucking them in bed. He's just a little guy, tootally not capable of murder or anything :D
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yandere-fetish · 2 months
Text
Yandere Ballerino X Female Reader
Part One
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Yandere Ballerino visits his regular gym and while lifting weights, he comes across a cute (H/C) woman; You. He can't take his eyes off you while you stretch your limbs out, getting ready for the intense workout you're about to put yourself through.
Yandere Ballerino is too focused on your assets to realize he's half-ass weight lifting. It gets so bad that his personal trainer, who comes back from another client, has to yell his name loud enough to catch his attention, which in turn catches your attention.
You two lock eyes before turning away.
Yandere Ballerino swears his heart bursts from his chest at your quick look. He dubs you as shy beauty now.
Yandere Ballerino can't help but blush red after your sudden expression when you notice his naked body. He automatically wants to see more of your facial expressions and experience different faces from you.
Yandere Ballerino gets mad when he's forced to focus on his strength training instead of the pretty thang that’s working the stair stepper at the moment. He continues to sneak peaks at you when his trainer wasn't paying attention— which was rare since the trainer was dedicated to his job.
You never notice the wandering eyes that stall on your figure, nor do you hear the forlorn sigh coming from his mouth at the sight of your ass bouncing up and down.
Oh, how he could only see the sight of you bouncing on his dick— wait.
What is he thinking? He shouldn't be sexualizing you! He shouldn't be paying attention to the way your breasts move when you jog on the treadmill or the way your waist looks so flexible when you're exercising on the balance ball.. but how can he stop when you're all ready so tempting on the elliptical?
He silently lamented over what other workouts you could make tantalizing.
Yandere Ballerino becomes a mess when he can't find you in the gym after so long. It gets to the point where he cancels his session with the personal trainer and asks the front desk about you.
Yandere Ballerino immediately whispers your name when the receptionist tells it to him after sliding a hundred dollar bill his way.
Yandere Ballerino walks away after getting what he needs from the receptionist. He grins and repeats your name as if it were his new mantra.
“(Y/N).. (Y/N). *smiles* It suits her.”
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It's been a whole week since he saw you.
Yandere Ballerino has been non stop distracted since he saw you for the first time. Wondering about you keeps him from getting his much needed sleep, focus on staying in shape, practice for the numerous positions and steps of the upcoming shows, and even having his nutrition off balance.
He was becoming obsessed with you and he's never even spoken a word to you.
Yandere Ballerino finally expresses his feelings to his teacher and mentor, desperately needing the advice.
“Teacher.. I don't know what to do! She plagues my mind with every second I'm not near her! I can't even pirouette without thinking about her!”
“Hmm.. and you're serious about this girl?”
“Yes! I only know her name, but she won't leave my head! What am I supposed to do? I can't sleep, I can't eat— I can't even practice right anymore!”
“Find her.”
“What?”
“Go out into the world and find her. Decan can hold your position for a few days— but nothing longer than a week! After that, if you can't find her, you must forget her.”
“Oh! Thank you, Teacher! I'll make sure I come back in new spirits!”
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Yandere Ballerino constantly searches for your presence everywhere. He went to the malls, the salons, the stores, and even the few parks littered around, but he still couldn't find you.
His spirits were low and the expression on his face said it all; he'd never see you again.
Yandere Ballerino was on his last leg when he walked into a coffee shop and instead of buying a drink, he ended up wearing one.
Just before he could freak out, Yandere Ballerino sees the face of his attacker and instantly melts. It's you! It's (Y/N)! The girl he's been looking for for five days straight! God has finally answered his prayers.
He silently thanks God for what he's gone through to have the two of you meet before hearing the feminine gasp and apologies from the cutie (you) in front of him.
“I am so so sorry, sir! I promise I didn't mean to…”
“It's all right… if you let me take you out for dinner?”
“Ah, um. *blushes deeply and avoids gaze* Me?”
“*smirks* Is there anybody else around who spilled their coffee on my very expensive shirt?”
“I— I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to! I should have been watching where I was going.”
“It's okay cutie.. as long as you agree to meet with me for dinner on.. let's say— Friday?”
“Okay.. *blushes* I'll guess I can go out with you on Friday since I messed up your shirt.”
“Great! Here's my number. I'll text you, (Y/N).”
After receiving your phone number, Yandere Ballerino began sweating bullets, hoping you wouldn't catch his slip up. It was too late now to regret it, so Yandere Ballerino just gives you a dashing smile and strolls right out of the coffee shop without a coffee.
You were too starstruck at his handsome appearance and his tall physique that you didn't catch your name falling from his lips without you speaking it first. You were too happy to finally have a date after so long that you were seeing stars instead of people. Your heart races and your palms are sweaty, but you try not to get ahead of yourself since it's only a date.
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Do NOT steal from my blog. I say this so everyone can enjoy my stories without the hassle of plagiarism or infringement.
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colourstreakgryffin · 2 months
Note
Hi Good morning...
Could you do Yandere Alastor? If not Could Alastor be possessive?
Imagine Charlie going to heaven to talk to the angels (just like in that episode) but in addition to taking his girlfriend, he also took Alastor along with them... Now imagine Alastor being reunited with his beloved wife (who became an angel after her death and with that they both separated) what would happen? Now imagine having other angels flirting with Alastor's wife or trying to protect her since he is the radio demon...
Oooh… okay. This is interesting. Though, I can imagine Alastor may end up dragging us down to Hell with him since he’d be that possessive. He wouldn’t stay in Heaven, he’d be getting us banished from Heaven so he can be with us! That’s how I view it and this is my first Yandere Alastor and Yandere Hazbin Hotel as well!
Alastor- Yin and Yang, Light and Dark
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Alastor is a merciless, intimidating man of extreme power as Hell’s all-around-feared Radio Demon. A figure who had nothing to his own name that others did. Just himself, a blade and so many sins under his belt. Nobody would ever suspected he would ever fall in love, that he could fall in love, that it was possible for such a corrupted mind…
But here is both Charlie and Vaggie, and the entirety of Hell being completely disapproved. The young sapphic couple decided to bring their redemption project’s primary investor, Alastor up to Heaven with them as backup support, incase anything happens. The three demons are greeted with the mighty Seraphim, Sera’s assistant. A beautiful warm-hearted female angel that greets them with a warm smile and a familiar accent
Alastor just stopped in place when he met your eyes, he stopped smirking and snarking through this situation. Stopped even smiling as he couldn’t stop looking at this angel… she reminds him of the wife he had lost. Nobody knew he was married… he almost forgot he was. Alastor approaches this sweet-hearted angel and asks politely to hold her hand. Of course, this angel… or also known as you, is a bit hesitant but does so anyway. Eventually being able to flip your hand to reveal the shiny wedding ring that has remained there for so long, it may as well be stuck in place
Since when did Alastor have a wedding ring?! That’s what Vaggie asks herself when Alastor seems to just manifest a shiny golden marriage band onto his hand in just a flick of his wrist, both of you carefully slide off those rings to check the insides, where writing of each other’s names remain. Revealing to one another that you’ve both been reunited since 1933… since Alastor’s death, many years prior your own
You’re found your husband… after almost seventy years
It was hard to not cry before your guests but pulling back in all your emotions and your questions for your estranged now demon husband, Alastor. You have to lead the Princess, her partner and her close friend over to where Sera and Emily await to greet them. Whilst Emily ends up excitedly distracting Charlie and Vaggie, you’re unable to stop thinking about being able to find your husband. You know that ring anywhere and looking at the Radio Demon more, you can see the dark-skinned Creole man behind the new appearance
You smoothly weave past the other two higher-rank inhabitants of this grand bright cool cloudy realm to take Alastor’s hands, prying one off his staff-like microphone-cane and eventually running fingers through his hair, doing so just makes his tall fluffy deer-like ears pin back. It’s just like when you were both humans and how’d you run your fingers through his fluffy dark brown hair to ease him after a long day of work
“Alastor… why did you lie to me? You said we’d go to Heaven together”
He did promise. Back in 1926, when you two got married. A illegal marriage but you didn’t care at all. Married at only 26 years old, both of you. He promised you’d both die together and fly up to Heaven together, be happy, safe and comfortable together in Heaven but when you died after he did, you never found Alastor
You were devastated, looking everywhere, desperate and heartbroken at being alone, and ending up being comforted by Lady Sera. Who revealed to you Alastor never arrived in Heaven… which was just proof to that that he didn’t go to Heaven but he went to Hell
You wanted to know so badly, for almost seventy years. Why he went to Hell… what did he do? You never saw Alastor commit any wrong. He was a good person, yes, wealthy and influential as a very popular Radio Host but a good man
Alastor, in reality, simply hid his true self, his psychotic ‘disorder’ from you. He had actually fallen in love with a sweet soft angel, a sympathetic harmless woman and was terrified he’d lose you, a genuinely good person, to the fact he was a serial killer… hence why you never saw nor knew how bad he actually was
How he killed every single man who came onto you, how he killed every single woman who dared to give you any side eyes. He was obsessed, possessive, protective, murder-driven
Alastor covered every single footstep and every trace of his bad doings and even when he was reported as the serial killer on the radio upon the Police taking him down… you still didn’t know because you avoided the radio, out of heartbreak pain of your husband being taken away from you and utter disbelief of what anybody said about Alastor back in Louisiana, New Orleans during your old-timey era
Being reunited with you… this beautiful moment has drowned Alastor with not only all those incredible memories of the past as a human he shared with you, but all his unhealthy, what it’s called yandere mannerisms. In an instant, he is determined to get you back at all causes and he is willing to drag you down to Hell with him
He can’t be redeemed, even if seeing you again is a huge motivation to try fix himself and pass by his sins of wrath, he’ll just make you fall through the clouds and land right into his arms after passing through the pentagram above. This is perfect… absolutely perfect and a mere second devised plan is already becoming the Overlord’s obsession
Alastor lifts up the hand combing through his hair away and kisses the top of your hand, making both yours and his heart flutter. Everything you do for one another is reminders of the past and reminders of your secret marriage. His pretty crimson red eyes look down at you before he speaks, his voice dropping the radio effect echo so his organic transatlantic accent coos out, full of love and joy
Mainly because he’s going to make you become a Fallen Angel and come live in Hell with him. You won’t be alone again and he won’t be alone again either
“I know, darling… I was never a good person and I didn’t deserve you. But I am here to change. If you give me some weeks, maybe some months. Give us that time. We’ll be together again. Just like before”
A/N: To say. What would Alastor do if he saw Angels trying to flirt with you or keep you away from him as he visits Heaven with Chaggie is that he’d be planning immense murder and destruction but he couldn’t do anything about it. Politely dragging you away from the angels to talk to you more. He wants to kill but he can’t whilst within Heaven
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a-small-safe-place · 5 months
Text
Then, Nothing.
Yandere Cullen family
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A/N: Renesmee is a platonic yandere. The rest of the Cullens are romantic yanderes for you, but it is mostly centered on Bella and Edward right now.
You met Renesmee in a park. You were babysitting a child for a family, and she happened to approach you. This child looked too grown to be the age she said but also looked too young to be anything older, and something about her was off-putting in an uncanny valley way. However, something compelled you to engage with her. She said she did not want to play with any of the other children. Renesmee said they were too ingenuous. That seemed like too big of a word for such a little girl. She talked your ear off, though. She said she does not "talk" much at home, and that it is easier just to be not verbal. That worried you; was this child being abused and forced to stay silent at home? Who even were her parents?
As if on cue, a very beautiful man and woman approached. They looked too young to be the girl’s parents, but also too similar to her to not be her parents. They were also more inhuman in appearance than Renesemee. The mom, Bella, was more welcoming than Renesmee’s father, Edward, who chose to remain standoffish.
Bella smiled and told you, “Renesmee doesn’t usually talk to people besides her family; you must be special.” Her tone sounded as if she had been flirting with you. You chose to ignore it. Maybe just because she was so inhumanly beautiful made it seem like she was flirting. “I don’t know about how special I am, but your daughter is certainly unique; she seems so bright for her age.”
Edward finally spoke up, but in a flat and uninterested tone, “she is; we are very proud.” An awkward silence settled over the area. Thankfully, the child you had been babysitting came up ready to go home.
You began to see them more and more around town. It seemed as if Renesmee could sniff you out in a second if she happened to be in the same area as you. You were relieved that you did not live in the area and lived in a part of town that was in a much lower tax bracket. If you did live in the area, it would not be surprising if Bella, Renesemee, or even Edward showed up at your doorstep. Edward was the most normal out of the three. Bella’s behavior was nice, but something about it felt awkward with a sinister undertone. If she looked different, it would seem more sincere, but something about all three of them made you want to run away as fast as you could despite their beauty. A driver for the family that you babysat for had seen them when picking up you and the child and joked that Bella and Edward were probably related given that they looked similar. He loved to gossip and asked you a million questions about them. You shuddered at the idea. That could explain why their daughter was so peculiar, but wouldn’t incest result in more physical deformities and not just strange behavior from a child? Even if they were related, they did not seem to be that close, definitely not siblings. Everything about them seemed the same but also different.
You tried your best not to think too much about it, but it got to the point where you would see at least one of them anytime you were out on that side of town. You were fine trying to avoid them; each time your excuse was along the lines of “oh they need this kiddo back home!” or some other similar response. That is until you ended up getting fired. The mom refused to say why, and she reacted in disgust when she saw you. Before this, both of the parents enjoyed having you as their sitter. It was a harsh dismissal. You decided to stop by the grocery store before going home. You needed something, anything, to make you feel better about your loss of work, and with the influence your last family had in the community, it was clear you would not be babysitting for a while. Or so you thought.
“Hello,” Edward’s voice sounded from behind you. He did not seem happy to be there. “Sorry,” You mumbled, scooting out of the way, assuming you were in front of something he needed. “I have a job for you,” He said cryptically. You turned around to face him feeling confused. Edward continued to talk. “It will pay well. I know you take care of children, and I wanted to take Bella somewhere on a date, and we do not have a sitter for Renesmee, and she has warmed up to you.”
“You want me to babysit?” You asked somewhat dumbly causing him to smile a bit and chuckle. “Yes, she has warmed up to you, and Bella thinks you are trustworthy. The only catch is that you have to care for her at our home. You may not leave when you are watching her, even if you have an emergency.” You weren't a fan of that stipulation, but you figured they would allow you to call them to come back in a dire situation.
“Okay, fine. When do I need to be there, and is this going to be a regular thing?” You asked. He seemed a little irritated that you're asking these questions. “Tonight. You will start now. It will be a regular job. You can follow me out to our house.”
You arrived at his and Bella’s home. It looked like it was designed by the best architect. Renesmee greeted you outside. “You're here! We are going to have so much fun! Come one! Come meet my family.” As she is dragging you in, Edward is driving away. He did not even mention when they will be back or how much you were getting paid exactly. He was probably making sure you would not take the money and leave. There are people inside. Four people, two guys, and two girls sit on the couch and sofa. You hear a few people in the kitchen. “These are my aunts and uncles! That's Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rosalie; they are married, and then Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper; they are married too. My Grandma Esme and Grandpa Carlisle are in the kitchen. Grandma wanted to make dinner for you… I mean us.” Two of them smile at you, the two dark-haired ones. The two blondes look mad and somewhat disgusted. This is weird. You have never babysat with people around. Why could the family not watch Renesmee? She seemed to like them just as much as you. Renesmee pulls you into the kitchen. Her grip is surprising for a little girl. A blonde man and a woman with caramel-colored hair are cooking. They look far too young to be a grandma and grandpa. Something about all of these people seems so familiar. As if you have seen them before. Not just on the rich side of town but on the poor side of town too, in your neighborhood. They both introduce themselves and clearly know your name as they greet you. “Are you hungry?” Esme asks, handing you a plate of food. It smells divine, but this has to be a trap. Most families prefer you not to eat a bunch on the job.
Renesmee grabs a plate and begins to eat. “It's so good! Grandma worked hard on it! You have to try it!” It is impossible to say no to her for some reason. You take a plate and take a few bites. It tastes wrong. There are hints of good flavor, but it is heavily covered up by the taste of medicine. The gravity of the situation hits you. “I need to excuse myself; I need a bathroom break.” The shakiness in your voice is clear. You pretend to go to the restroom, but book it to the door when you're out of sight. You see your keys are missing; even your phone has disappeared from your pocket. You step outside only to see your car missing. Suddenly you're grabbed from behind. This person is very strong but knows how to hold someone down without injuring them. You're stuck with a needle. Your life does not flash before your eyes, but each time you've seen these freaks in public flashes in your mind as your vision spins. A wave of calm lays over you. It is unwelcome because it feels unnatural, but it is too comforting for you to care as your vision goes in and out. You see some flashes of memories that do not belong to you. They are from a lower angle, so it has to be from Renesmee's mind. It is Carlisle assuring her that you are going to be safe because they all love you as much as she does.
Then, nothing. You're out like a light.
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starcrossedyanderes · 8 months
Text
Snake Secrets
Summary: Tom finds out about your secret pet. And you find out one of his many secrets, as well
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Behold, a fanfiction literally nobody was expecting! Expect more, because boy do I have Tom brainrot!
It was an awfully cold day in Hogwarts. The landscape was as white as Headmaster Dippet's hair. In other words, it was the perfect time to cuddle up by the fire with your pair of warmest socks. Oh, and of course a cup of hot cocoa.
The green flames waved in the nonexistent wind as you sat down intently with a book you borrowed from the restricted section. A book that was entirely in runes and required a complete translation.
It was when you stood up to head to your room that you noticed something was terribly wrong.
There was something absent from your robes.
The grass snake you had taken in as your pet, was missing.
The reptile was rescued by you a couple of weeks ago after you found it in the snow. The poor thing wasn't even in torpor and was clearly not doing well. But you being the kind person you are (and being Slytherin giving you a soft spot for snakes) you brought it inside and helped it get a few mice in its tummy.
So far the snake has seemed to be rather taken with you as he simply chills out with you and has never shown you any hostility. You have taken to calling it Theo.
Because of today's extra chill, you decided to help Theo warm up by sitting next to the fire while snuggled up in your robes. But the serpent is nowhere to be seen.
Now, this is bad for many reasons. For one, it is terribly cold out for a snake. Secondly, you're fairly certain snakes aren't allowed as pets and the poor thing will probably be killed. And thirdly, you know Parkinson's cat is strutting around somewhere and you know she would just love a fresh kill.
You rush off in a frenzy all around the Slytherin dorms. Is he by the fireplace? No. Did he make his way back to your dorm? Also no. You searched the Slytherin house from top to bottom with no luck.
It is to your horror that you realize the snake must have gotten out of the dorms. You hurry out of the common room into the dreary dungeons and almost speed past the paintings, before stopping in your tracks. Perhaps the paintings saw something?
"Excuse me, sir by chance did you see a snake er.. slither by?"
The elderly, stern woman looked your way.
"Yes, the dreadful thing went down the hall and into the fifth room on the left. Fairly certain it followed that prefect boy."
You raised your eyebrows at this. Why would Theo follow a prefect? And who did he follow?
You bowed and expressed your thanks before racing to the specified location.
~TOM'S POV~
How I manage to forget how unbearable people are, I may never know. Most of the Slytherins had decided to stay in the commons today to stay warm during this frigid day, meaning I could get no peace and true studying in. Thankfully, there was a study room not too far from the dorm that few knew about.
It was as I was getting my books out that I heard a voice behind me. It would seem I was followed.
"Excuse me."
I turned around, ready to deal with the interloper but nobody was to be seen.
What sort of idiot asks for me while under an invisibility potion?
Before I could speak my thoughts I was interrupted by another,
"Excuse me, sir."
It wasn't until my eyes drifted down that I realized who had interrupted my study session.
On the floor was a medium-sized snake with some brown scales, and it was looking expectantly at me. Seems this grass snake luckily stumbled upon the one person in this school who could understand him.
"Yes, what is it, snake?"
The snake slithered closer and it seemed to get the closest thing a snake could to a sparkle in its eye.
"Oh, sir, please help me. You are the only person here who can understand me."
"Well, yes, I am the only heir of Slytherin, after all."
"Oh wow! A celebrity! Please, it would seem I have gotten lost."
"I would say. Don't you know it's Winter? This school makes for an awful place to be a snake, with how many owls there are."
"Oh, you see I was rescued by this awfully nice lady from the snow. She took me in and gave me some tasty mice. She even helped me stay warm and gave me a name! But I caught a whiff of a rat and the next thing I know I'm here! I would like to make my way back to her, I'm sure she's worried sick."
"Yes, that would be quite a predicament. I suppose I could direct you back to her. Now do you know anything about her? Such as her house?"
"Oh, thank you, sir! I don't know terribly much but where she resides couldn't be terribly far from here. Oh, and there's green everywhere in her den."
I hummed at the thought.
"A Slytherin taking in an animal. Now you hear something new every day. Fine then, you may follow me back to the Slytherin commons but you'll have to find her from there yourself."
But it would seem I have to put a pin in that plan as another person opened the door.
~YOUR POV~
I was about to open the door to the study room before I heard something quite odd. It sounded like a set of hisses.
Theo!
Theo must be behind this door!
But I stopped again as another set of hisses came through, and a very different set at that. Was there another snake in there?
Well, if Theo made a friend you were more than happy to meet them. For now, you just wanted to know he was ok. So you bit the bullet and opened the door.
What you found was not quite what you were expecting. Thinking back on it, maybe you should have from what the painting told you.
In this study room stood Tom Riddle, with your Theo on his shoulder. It would seem Tom was the prefect Theo followed, and Tom most certainly found out.
"Oh, Tom. I see you found.. a snake."
Your attempt at keeping the fact that the snake was yours was completely shattered as Theo immediately slithered over to you and started to make his way to your shoulder; acting like your very own scarf.
Tom merely raised his eyebrow.
"Is this your snake?"
You gulped.
"Oh, yes. I know snakes are generally frowned upon here but I just couldn't let him die in the cold. Please don't tell anyone, Riddle. I swear I'll let him outside as soon as it's safe."
Riddle merely hummed at your proposition but your mouth just had to open again.
"Oh, by the way, is there another snake here?"
Tom smirked.
"No, why do you have another snake on the loose I should know of?"
"Oh, no. I'm just fairly sure I heard another snake in her-"
Wait a sec. It was just you, Tom, and Theo in this room. No other snakes.
Now that you think about it, the only person who could have possibly made another set of hisses could be Tom, but he obviously can't talk to snakes.
Unless of course, he can.
Riddle always did have a way with all academics and had gained quite a following amongst a group of purebloods, despite his 'mudblood' status. Although if you recall correctly he did come from an orphanage.
Could it be?
And of course, Tom seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.
Your face blanched.
"Well I should be going-"
You heard the click of a lock.
"Why, (L/N)? We just started talking."
You gulped as you turned back to face him.
"I suppose the snake is out of the bag now, isn't it Theo? Now what should I do with you? I can't have anyone blabbing their mouths about this now, can I? But luckily for you, I have quite a soft spot for snakes. Besides someone as sweet as you are probably going through enough, being a Hufflepuff disguised as a Slytherin and all."
He had made you back up to the point you almost fell in a chair.
But despite the situation you couldn't help but slightly flare up.
"Hey, I'm as much of a Slytherin, besides you I suppose, as anyone else in this house. Just because I showed a bit of kindness does not make me any less ambitious and cunning. Besides, I think me being kind to a snake is enough proof as any."
For whatever reason he reached out and barely touched your hair with a hiss and Theo decided to slither up his hand.
"You know, Theo is awfully fond of you. It would be awfully mean to separate the two of you, especially during Winter and all."
Your eyes widened.
"Tom, can I call you that, I swear I won't tell a soul. I respect secrets, I just ask you not to tell anyone about Theo. If you don't tell, I swear my lips are sealed. I'll even make a vow."
Tom waves his hand and you hear the door behind you unlocked.
"That won't be necessary, (Y/N). This just gives me more of an excuse to keep an eye on you now. Be sure no one else sees him on the way back. Surely they will not be nearly as fond as I am of you."
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lolita-lollipop · 5 months
Text
broken glass
UVOGIN X READER
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warnings: yandere(stalking implied), reader is not okay, bad upbringing, kidnapping.
Kinda long but it’s okay
———————————————————————
Ever since you were nothing but a child, the world had chosen to bring you misfortune. A dead mother, a father who is would love you if alcohol didn’t exist, a lack of friends, or family, or anybody who cared.
Your life was an endless cycle of misery and misfortune. You were cursed with the worst luck possible.
As a girl you were bullied, living in a small town the knowledge that your mother was killed brutally spread fast, and the kids at school would take anything to fuck somebody up. It only got worse when your dad did nothing to stop it. So you grew up an outsider, somebody completely alienated from the rest of the people your age.
The worst part about it, was that there was nothing you could do to fix it. You were strong enough to fight them back and win, nor were you smart enough to get them caught by the schools or their parents. So you had to live with it.
Your unlucky tendencies carried with you all the way into adulthood. You had somehow managed to get into a good college, miles and miles away from your small hometown, where your past couldn’t follow you. But by that time you had no clue how to socialize like a normal person, so you only made a few friends in your first year. Even so, your life was going better than it ever had, you had more friends than you’d ever accomplished to make in your childhood, your roommate cared for you, being much older and much wiser. And you were happy.
Then, you got a call. From the exact person you had been avoiding since you stepped foot out of that awful town. That awful place.
“Y/n… I’m sick” your father sounded older, his voice was scratchy and weak now. Probably from the endless amount of cigarettes he smoked, you knew that your dad would never call you unless he actually needed you. He hadn’t even tried to contact you since you left, barely caring enough to send you a happy birthday text. You were a last resort to him, that much you knew for certain.
“And.”
“I need you to come back. To come home. My legs, my legs don’t work anymore. Please baby…I miss you.” You could hear the lies dripping from every word he spoke, that’s the sweet tone you had only ever heard from your father when he wanted something. Usually it was something as minuscule as money or whiskey or weed. Like usual, he knew you didn’t know how to say no to him when he dangled that ghost of affection in your face. And like usual, you chased after it like an idiot.
That’s what you were, an idiot. You knew ut, your father knew it. Who would go back to a life of misery, back to a town filled with only sad memories, of pain. Who would be stupid enough to fall for the manipulation of an old man who barely raised you? You would.
So, you packed your stuff up from your dorm, opting for the online classes your college offered. And prepared for the long drive home in an old car you bought for half the already low price.
And here you were. Standing in your local grocery store , in your pajamas, trying to decide if you had enough money for snacks for the drive home. Bags under your eyes from sleepless nights, a heavy weight pulling down on your shoulders as you accepted your fate, doomed to a small town full of bullies and lying snakes.
The melancholy of your situation weighed down on you, showing on your face, the frown lines deepening as you sucked yourself deeper into a depressive black hole. Blankly staring at the small bags of corn chips and popcorn, you let your shoulders sag. Exhaustion reading on your posture. You didn’t know how long you were standing there, nor did you care. Not until a string band tapped your shoulder a few times, sending your head to snap up, and your eyes to snap out of it.
“You alright there doll? Ya look a little bit… dead” a gruff voice spoke, it was scratchy and rough. Not in the way your fathers was (withered with age and years of vices), but natural. Husky. Pulling yourself up from your spacing out, you straightened your back, screaming your neck up to see him. The man was fucking giant, taller than anybody you had ever seen before, with tattoos speckling his neck and arms. You stood there for a few moments, staring in awe at the man whom you hadn’t realized was actually pretty terrifying in person. Maybe you were just tired, or stressed, or scared, but the way he stared made you want sink into your own skin and disappear. It was unsettling, how his stare weighed down on your shoulders and pulled you back away from him.
“Uhh- Yeah man. I’m good.” You spoke in your quiet voice, pulling your shoulder as far away from his hand as you could. You sent him a tight lipped smile, and returns to your decision between what bagged snack you would pick. You tried to ignore him, who stayed put in his spot next to you despite your obvious dismissal to his advance on a conversation.
You spotted him in your peripheral vision, staring at you. That heavy feeling never left you, and the longer the giant man stayed there, the heavier and heavier it weighed down.
“The popcorn is gross here. It comes stale even in a sealed bag. I wouldn’t get it if ya don’t wanna feel sick tommorow” he spoke again, leaning down to be at your eye level. You glanced back at him, remaining indifferent despite your ever-quickening heartbeat. His eyes were still focused on yours, while your pen glanced over his physical appearance.
It wasn’t just his height that made yoh hneasy, he was wide in a muscular way, with a beard that put the men of your hometown to shame. There were slight twinges of Greg throughout his long hair, and while he was well kept and smelled nice, he had messy, almost unhinged undertone. And yoh had managed to gather all of that without even talking to him much. You gave another right smile, before throwing the chips back and placing the popcorn in your basket (doing it almost to spite the man) among the advil and energy drinks. You almost missed the way his eyes scanned over your cart. Almost.
“Thanks” with that, you were off, trudging your way to the front of the store with your basket in tow, you heard a pair of heavy footsteps behind you, and the cashier glanced up for a couple seconds. A recognizable look of fear flashed on her face for no longer than a moment, before the bells of the front doors let out a cheery jingle. And the man was gone.
The repetitive beep of the checkout machine rang through the storefront, as the woman made no move to strike up a conversation with you, her eyebags sinking almost worse than your own. You had almost worked here at some point, when you first arrived to the big city. You were glad you didn’t now, as you didn’t want to be subjected to whatever this pooor woman clearly had been through.
She just kept beeping through your groceries, bagging them up, and setting them off to the side for you to grab. When she was finally finished she placed the pricing machine down and stared at yoj like she was waiting for something, you pulled your card out of your pocket and gave it to her, but she immediately handed it right back. You sighed, partially in confusion and partially of exhaustion. Of all times, now was not the moments for somebody to mess with you, at two AM at a stupid grocery store. You stared right back as she held the card out to you, waiting for you to grab it.
“He paid for your shit. Just take it”
Huh
Strange.
———
That night you went home with a weird feeling in your stomach, you know when something feels like it’s gonna go wrong? Yeah. That. You chose to blame it on your father, knowing that you would not be met with a joyful arrival home.
The feeling stuck with you all along the drive to your little stupid house in the middle of nowhere, the popcorn you had bought did actually end up being gross, but it didn’t change the satisfaction you got from denying that man of you following his advice. Your radio was cutting in and out, your car was on the verge of breaking down, and your ac didn’t work anymore, leaving you sweaty and sticky in your car.
You weren’t wrong in assuming that it wouldn’t be a happy “welcome home”, it would’ve been nice yeah, but it wasn’t a surprise when you pulled up to your house and there was no short outside. The dead grass of your front yard, and withering plants of what once was your guarden spoke for itself how your father had been taking care of the property. Leafy vines had started to overtake the front wall of your home, the place looked abandoned. Sad.
After a few deep breaths of preparation for whatever fight that was about to come, you hopped out of your truck and began the short truck to your front door. The small glass frame above it was smashed with many small cracks across the surface.
It was sad really. The house once looked somewhat presentable, none of the houses in the area looked to be well kept or highly perfected in the visual category, they never looked that way, but at least you could tell it was a home for someone whether it be the old lady next door with kids who don't care about her and more debt she could handle, or the couple across the street you used to hear screaming at each other through the night. Somebody really lived in those homes, your house looked like an empty shell.
The pavement leading up to the front door was cracked and probably permanently stained with dirt or paint or blood or alcohol, the little garden you used to try to keep alive while you were little was shriveled and blackened by the sun, no lights were on in the house, and it was dead silent. You hated this place, you hated that you were back here, you hated that you still cared for this empty pit of shame and misery of a home. Cared for a man that had hurt you so very many times.
Approaching the door, you didn't even care to knock or ring the bell, the electricity in your house had long been cut off so it wouldnt matter, and if your father was expecting you he wouldnt mind if you just walked in. It was your house, anyway. Placing your hand on the doorknob, you let a deep breath calm down your running heart and pushed it open.
Unsurprisingly, the house was dead silent, a creak resonating through the open space as the noise bounced wall to wall. You could hear your heartbeat as you walked over the rest of the broken glass from the window, leaving quiet crunches under your feet. Just breathing the air in your home sent awful memories of childhood to race across your brain, it smelled like your dad, like alcohol and cigarettes and unhappiness and anger. It even looked miserable in here, almost just as bad, if not worse, than outside.
Flicking on your phone flashlight, little flecks of broken glass reflected the light, they were scattered across the entire house, maybe from the broken front window, maybe from other windows in the house. Your dad was never one for cleaning, knowing him he must've gotten upset and broken a couple. With no one else to clean it, he probably left it there. That's how he is, how he's always been. Why did you love him? How stupid were you?
“Dad?” you called, but it echoed through the home. You now realize just how empty it truly was, no more furniture was scattered here or there or anywhere, it was just empty and sad. Fitting. Really fucking fitting.
“Dad? You called me?” You called once more, still only getting the creaks of the old house in return. You took another deep breath, the smell was starting to get to you, this was supposed to be easier for you now, you were an independent woman now, and the smell of your childhood home shouldn't have you spiraling like it did. You shouldn't have come here.
“I drove all the way out here for you. If you weren't gonna show you could've just called me. Go to hell, asshole.” still awaiting an answer. You knew he wasn't here, and you certainly knew it was stupid to talk to an empty house, but you wasted gas and good money for this. Wasted money on a man who didn't even care enough to show his face. Wasted money to go back to a life you've been clawing to escape from.
You didn't even realize you were crying until you felt the tears start to roll down your cheeks.
It hurt to be here, genuinely, the floors felt like they were trying to soak you up and suffocate you, the walls felt like they were closing in, and the ceilings felt like they were slowly crushing you. What were you supposed to do? You spent so long running away from this place, how could you let yourself be dragged back here, especially for no reason?
Your eyes fell to your feet, sucking in air as best as you could, you tried your hardest to keep your soft cries from turning into sobs. There wasn't anybody to hide your tears from, but it felt wrong, you shouldn't let yourself be this upset. You know.
Your cries halted when you spotted a dark patch of carpet in between the space where your feet were planted, not tears or water or even alcohol, it was bright red. Blood, and not the kind that's gone brown because it's been sitting for so long. This was new, recent blood. The dead silence of the house now had you frozen in spot. Could somebody have broken in? Your eyes followed a now obvious trail of spots leading toward your mom's old bedroom.
They slept in different rooms before she died, whether it was because they hated or other or were scared of each other (or both) he never went in there. Never.
You should leave. Shouldn't you? You should leave, he's not your problem anymore, he abandoned you when you were little, and kicked you to the curb. He deserved whatever was coming to him, he had it coming. You should leave, you should leave, you should leave, you should leave.
But you can't.
Even though you were actively willing to run out the front door, you just couldn't find it in you to leave. Pathetic. You knew, but this is how it was, this is how it was always meant to be. He calls and you answer, no matter how fucked up it was.
So, instead of making a haste bolt for the door or any of the broken windows, you slowly crept closer and closer to the bedroom where you said goodbye to your mother, your breath was shallow and unmanageable, almost worse than your uncontrollable heartbeat, whatever was behind the door was surely not pretty.
It took you a few moments to work up the courage to even touch the doorknob, hand quivering along the way there. You waited, the last time you were in this room was over 10 years ago, you couldn't even remember what it looked like, what your mother looked like. You were being stupid weren't you, it was just a room, probably empty by now, furniture either stolen or sold like the rest of the house. inhaling, you twisted, and pushed the door open.
To reveal… absolutely nothing. Just an empty room with the same exact smell as the rest of the house, a puddle of blood sat in the middle of the room, but nobody, no person or animal or thing that could bleed. Just an empty, meaningless room. Just like the rest of the house. You let out a sigh of relief at the uneventfulness of the failed search, that wasn't so bad, you were fine.
Were you? A loud creak echoed through the short hallway behind you, and you made a motion to turn around.
Hands were on you before you could even breathe again. One covering your mouth, and one firmly planted on your shoulder. Huge hands, bigger than your fathers for sure, calloused and strong, scarily strong. Whoever this was smelled familiar, vaguely familiar, not like someone you knew closely. The shock from him grabbing you forced your phone to fall out of your grip. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god
You should have gone home, you should've cursed out your father and left. You shouldn't have been curious or caring or kind… you lived in a bad neighborhood, people died left and right, and the police couldn't give less of a shit what happens here. You were going to die, you were going to die in the same house you grew up in, the same house you cried and hurt and screamed in. What a sad ending, to think you were finally starting to get your life on somewhat of a track, only to die at the hands of a stranger. Fuc-
“Stop thinking so hard, I’m not gonna hurt you” a gruff voice spoke behind you, deep and dark and powerful. You started crying the second he spoke, your heart beating faster than your body should be able to take. Whoever this was, was not somebody you would ever want to mess with, they sounded more authoritative than you could ever even wish to be. You couldn't stop your heart from clenching out of fear, couldn't stop the tears from dripping down your face, couldn't breathe right.
“You don't need to cry… I said I wasn't gonna hurt you” One of his fingers strayed from your mouth to wipe tears away, but it did nothing to stop fear from overtaking your senses or forcing out sobs and cries from your lips. You were positive that your entire body was quivering and shaking, you couldn't feel it, too scared to think about anything other than death, but you knew it was naturally happening. You heard him let out a sigh from behind you (even his breathing was harsh and rough) before his arm hooked under your knees and pulled you flush against him.
“I’ve never been this close to you before, I’ve been waiting for this one for a while. We met when we were kids ya know, you looked so… empty, miserable, tired, fucking empty. You still do, you're just better at hiding it. I've been watching, it since then. You're just too nice for your good.” your cries increased as he spoke, you didn't struggle or scratch or scream, just cried. He was too strong for it to matter if you did.
He chuckled as you kept crying, by now he had begun to walk to the front door.
“Don't make a scene, if anybody notices, they're dead.” The words he spoke were so nonchalant, but still so terrifying that it had you struggling to breathe. He broke the front door open with his foot and pushed his way through the doorway, he hit his head on the top as he went through, that must be why the glass was broken.
You were frozen in his arms as he continued to carry you, the sun now lit up your surroundings, showing exactly who your captor was, now it made sense why you mildly recognized him. He was the man from the grocery store, you should've known by the way he spoke, you should've recognized that voice anywhere. HE caught your gaze as you stared at him, giving you a toothy smile. His canines were scarily sharp, and now that you can get a closer look this man was even more terrifying. His bear, his eyes, his teeth, everything about him screamed danger. You stiffened as you stared at him, why why why why why why why You shouldn't have fucking come here.
“Quit looking so scared of me. God you're stiff as a board, I forgot how jumpy you were. It's been a while since I’ve seen you this scared, not since the incident at the coffee shop-” Who does he think he is? Talking just like he knows you like he's had any kind of conversation with you before that wasn't about popcorn at a stupid stupid grocery store. What were you supposed to do? You fully believed that he was the type of man to kill anybody who tried to stop him, even then nobody would (people in this neighborhood learned to keep their mouths shut), and he was much much stronger than you. You just… you just had to give up. There was no winning, not against him, not here.
The thought alone made you want to curl up and die.
Pathetic.
“Don't worry though, You're scared and I get it. But you'll get used to me. I’ll treat you real good, buy you things you’ve never had before. “ Your breath hitched and you quivered as he continued to blabber on and on about what kind of house he had, he tucked you into the passenger seat of some kind of black fancy car, got into the driver's seat, and proceeded to drive away—no more explanation than that. You couldn't do anything more than stare at him with those wide eyes of yours, he was watching you too intensely for you to try and throw yourself out of the car, and even then you doubted you would get very far before he caught you.
So you awkwardly sat in the leather seats of the fancy-ass car, tears still freely flowing as you sat, waiting for this man to take you to some alleyway and murder you. You picked at your fingernails, eyes darting around the interior of the car, it was clean and neat and looked to be stupidly expensive, everything that man wasn't. Who is that man anyway?
Almost as if reading your mind, the man brought a hand up to wipe the tears from your face, only to end up cupping your cheek and staring at you for a while as he drove.
“The name’s Uvogin, and I’m madly in love with you”
———————————————————————
Hey pookie s I’m back, this has been in my wanna write list for a LONG time. But it’s now so it’s fine. I’m kinda weak in the knees for the entire phantom troupe so tell me what you think.
Sorry for the long delay:) but I’m back now
Have a great day today, bye!
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faesdreaming · 7 months
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Yandere Deity - Altar
tw: yandere behaviour, possessive/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, diety uses he/him pronouns, gaslighting, yandere using his abilities to mess with reader’s perception of reality
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“Haven’t you come to worship at my altar?”
•A lone Deity part of a forgotten pantheon, lost to the sands of time. What once was a bountiful temple; filled with offerings and gifts of fruits, meats, candles, with sounds of prayers and hymns of worship ringing through the halls, people streaming in to sing his praise, is now nothing but an empty ruin.
•He’s so very lonely. Nary a person has come to visit him in centuries. Years pass by and he has nothing, no one. Until you. A fateful eve when you happen upon the temple. Hidden away in the heart of a lush jungle, you, an archaeologist, find your El Dorado, your city of gold. You’d long since heard tales of a lost civilization, an Atlantis on land. Yet, here the remnants lay in front of your eyes.
•At the heart of the ruins lays a temple, grand and golden. Although time has chipped away at its’ grandeur, it’s still glorious, in your opinion. It’s a testament to humanity’s evolution. You don’t notice him though, no one does. But he’s noticed you. Nosy little thing, aren’t you? Impudent, little mortal wretch. He ought to kill you for your audacity. Daring to defile his sacred temple, you deserve nothing but the most painful end,
•But, you’re not actually defiling it, are you? You’re so respectful, treating every artifact as though it were the Holy Grail. You revere his temple, it’s a wonder, a marvel to you. It, you treatment, you reverence— you make him feel something new, something foreign. The attention you give him is intoxicating. He’s been forgotten, left behind. Yet, you’re here now. And he isn’t going to let you go.
•So, when a series of natural disasters occurs and suddenly your team is halved, some leaving after the first incident, others meeting fates you don’t want to recall. The others are slowly losing hope, they’ve lost friends, money, time to your passion project. This is your life’s work, you can’t just give up, can you? You don’t want to. You really don’t. But you’re smart enough to know when to cut your losses.
•Then, another freak accident hits. This time is more devastating. Nobody escaped unscathed, nobody escapes at all. Nobody is except for you. You slip in and out of consciousness. One moment, you’re in the rubble amongst your dead coworkers and friends, and suddenly you’re in a bed, soft and warm. You’re delirious, unable to actually make out anything. But you’re certain there’s someone taking care of you. A man. A beautiful man, something, someone, divine. His touch is soft and gentle. Caring even. He placates you with sweet platitudes you can’t quite comprehend in this state, but the smooth baritone of his voice makes your heart soar.
•When you fully regain consciousness, you’re able to see your surroundings. You’re in a room filled with luxury. Ornate decor, golden furniture, the whole nine yards. It’s impressive, if not a little, a lot, off-putting. How did you get here? Who was the man taking care of you? Thousands of questions and thoughts flood your mind. It’s interrupted by him, the man.
“You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”
•You blink in confusion. It’s—he’s— everything is too much. Too overwhelming. He chuckles, it’s a rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. He reassures you, slowly and gently placing a strong hand of on your shoulder. There’s something commanding in his soft tone, something compelling you to swallow the lump in your throat and obey. He laughs again and you blush.
•He introduces himself as the one who’s been taking care of you. Doesn’t offer you any explanation as to why, but you ought to be grateful. After all, you could have been left out to die. He offers you food and water. You eat like a man starved and drink the water as though it were the sweetest ambrosia. He offers to let you stay here— where is here?— with him.
“You may leave whenever you decide to leave.”
•He promises, even escorts you out of the room, down halls that moves and shift, and spin around. You’re dizzy, delirious, unable to care for yourself. He carries you back to the room. How embarrassing. Your apologies when you regain your composure are shrugged off. It’s fine, he insists. You’re sick, vulnerable. He reiterates his offer, stay until you get better— you could’ve sworn he said stay forever— and are able to fend for yourself. You nod your head in agreement. It’s the logical choice, really. You’d probably die on your own.
•He smiles a brilliant smile at you, swears he’ll care for you diligently. And he has been, hasn’t he? You’re beginning to trust him, have faith— why?— in him. He stays true to his word. Working tirelessly to care for not only your body but your mind as well. Sleepless nights are spent with him by your side, telling you folktales and myths, singing soft lullabies to lull you to sleep, or even merely conversing with you. Days are spent improving your health. He feeds you by hand sometimes when you are too weak to do it yourself. When your health shows signs of improvement, you both go on walks, exploring the extensive gardens and many palace— temple, building, you’re not sure where you are— halls.
•He gifts you with many things too. Soft silk robes, shining jewels, ancient tomes and books, everything you desire you’re given. It’s not your fault, really, that you start to love him— do you?— especially not when’s he’s so kind. So handsome, beautiful really. He looks inhuman, like something divine. He’s attentive and nurturing. Your own prince charming. Your feelings grow as time progresses— how long has it been, you need to leave— until you can’t contain it.
•One day, as he presses a warm cloth to your forehead, you notice just how close he is. How he’s just out of touch. You greedily drink it in, unconsciously inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. The kiss is soft, chaste and you immediately pull away. Your stammering and feeble apologies are interrupted by his hand cupping your cheek. He leans in, your heart thumping in your chest, and kisses you again. This time, you don’t pull away.
•He, your lover, your heart loves you too. It’s surreal— too surreal— and your days spent together become all the more special. You’re utterly content with him, he’s become the air you breathe, the light of your life, you’re everything. It’s only natural for you to become consumed by him. By your life with your beloved— to forget you ever had a life before— spending eternity forever in his arms.
“We only have until forever, love.”
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flowersandbigteeth · 6 months
Text
Meeting your drider general
A/N: It's the middle of October, so I wrote a spider story ^_^
There have been a lot of requests for NSFW drider content. I don't plan on doing any NSFW of my other drider character Vass (he is just too pure 😳), so this is a completely different story in a completely different universe, literally.
General Plot: You've been stolen from your home by a lich, who has declared himself King and assigned a handsome drider general to watch over you, his Queen.
Word Count: 7k
Drider (Ruvain) x fem reader
TW: arachnophobia! THERE ARE SPIDERS! (<- heavy spooky, spider content), a rather graphic death of a minor character, bondage, nsfw drider smut, some graphic violent talk, mention of self harm, yandere behaviors and talk
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“You must do it again,” the lich who called himself King hissed at you. 
You tried not to glare, tried not to imagine his slow, agonizing death. The amulet he’d fuzed with his body prevented you from harming him, though if you had a single second left in your life where that amulet was gone, you would use it to cut off his cock and feed it to him. You’d spend your last moments smiling as he bled out while he choked to death. 
Instead, you lifted the spoon to your lips and tipped the soup into your mouth. It was delicious, as all things were in this castle, but you only tasted ash. 
“Yes, that’s more like a Queen,” he cooed, brushing his hand over your hair. 
His cold fingers drifted further to your cheek, and you forced yourself not to jerk your body away. Since you’d been captured only a few days earlier, you asked yourself if it was worth waiting to seek revenge. You could end yourself and join the family King Camus had slaughtered to obtain you in the afterlife. 
Perhaps you were too much of a coward, but you liked to think that one day you would find a way out of this trap, and then you would take your revenge. 
Camus was the cruel ruler of the country of Ventirest, where you’d been born. 
You would have lived and died in the small town Cerulle, where your family lived as ranchers, if Camus hadn’t come riding through on a countryside tour. He just happened to see you leading a cow through the market and, in his words, “fell in love.” 
That was a lie. Camus didn’t love anything but himself. He wasn’t a popular king, but he had that amulet and an army of monsters to keep the mostly rural country in line. You all toiled to pay his high taxes, though you made very little. He’d sent a page to your father to inform him you’d been chosen as his Queen and that your future was secure. 
Perhaps your family would have thanked him for your good fortune if it were a different King, but your parents were only afraid. How long until he grew bored of you and snuffed you out? They tried to hide you, saying you’d run off, and they couldn’t find you. Camus sent his dogs to sniff you out, and when they found you, your family was punished for protecting you. They were all killed, everyone who carried your family name, and you were thrown in his carriage on your way to the Capital. 
So, for the past two mornings, you’d wondered to yourself if this was all a waste of time. You pretended to be obedient. You did as he said and let him touch you, though you feared the day that his advances would grow more intimate. He’d promised you that you were lucky that he found you so desirable but was willing to give you a few days to “acclimate” before he forced you into his bed. 
You shuddered at the thought of his cold body, which carried the stench of rotting corpses touching your warm skin. 
“Master! Master!” one of Camus’ servants yelled, running in with a pile of maps and books in his arms. 
“What is it?” Camus snapped. “I’m in the middle of an etiquette lesson with my Queen. What can be so important?” 
“Of course, I would only interrupt you if it were dire!” the servant said, throwing himself to his knees in a bow. “And it is dire!” 
Scrolls and books flew everywhere as he prostrated himself. 
“Well, get on with it. What’s the matter?” Camus barked. 
“There’s an uprising, Your Majesty,” he whimpered, afraid he’d be killed as the messenger. “The villages of the west, where you obtained your Queen, have sworn to overthrow you for stealing a child of the land! They mean to take her back to her home.” 
Camus snorted, but your heart skipped in your chest. The people of the land came together for you? To seek revenge on your behalf? Your eyes misted with tears. You knew the people of the land were good and just. Their loyalty to a mere farm girl touched you deeply. Inside, you also wept for them. Camus was an immortal lich. You knew of no way to kill him. Many of the people who rode for you would die. 
“I didn’t steal her! I am the Goddess's chosen ruler of this land! All women are mine,” he snarled. “I could take every farm girl in this country, and I would still not be wrong. Perhaps I will after I’ve rendered their heads from their necks!” 
“Of course, of course,” the servant said. “I am only repeating the reports. I would never-” 
“Ruvain!” Camus shouted to nowhere in particular, and from the vaulted ceiling, cloaked in shadows, a drider appeared, elegantly sliding down a length of silk. Despite and maybe because of his bulbous body and eight brown legs, he was incredibly handsome. His eyes shimmered a rich gold, and his hair matched, laying over his tan shoulder in a thick braid. 
“You called, Your Majesty?” the half man, half spider, asked, his voice smooth as the silk he’d arrived on. 
“I need to convene with my generals. Guard the Queen!” Camus snapped. 
The drider looked a little offended. 
“Am I not a general, Your Radiance? Have I been demoted?” he asked. 
Camus let out a wet laugh. 
“No, but you’re the ugliest of the bunch,” he chortled. “I can’t leave my new Queen with someone too pretty, lest she get the wrong idea. Your eyes alone would send any woman running.” 
You felt outraged, not only that he questioned your character, but that he’d called this beautiful creature ugly. 
The drider’s eight eyes met yours for a moment. They shined like gold coins, and you saw they held the same fire and hate. He, too, was putting on an act. 
He gave Camus a deep bow. 
“As you wish, Your Highness,” he said, and Camus ran out of the room, dragging the poor servant behind him. 
When you were alone, you took the measure of the drider. 
“I don’t suppose you’d agree to lose me accidentally, would you?” you asked. “I can just slip out of the window over there. I’ll give you a slap if you want to say I fought you.”  
He let out a chuckle that made your heart flutter. 
“It is wise to let the King have his way,” he said vaguely, though he circled you, looking more closely. 
“I don’t like that he called you ugly,” you said, looking deeper into his eight gold eyes. “The only ugly one here is him. He smells like rot. You can smell that, can’t you? Everyone pretends…Anyway, I think you’re very handsome, actually. I quite like your legs, if I’m to be honest. And your eyes are…arresting…uh, in a…ah good way.”
At that, the drider smiled, revealing large, pointy teeth that sent a quake to your stomach. 
“He bathes in perfume,” he commented evasively, rescuing you from your own awkwardness. 
“Well, it’s not working. The perfumer should be shot…or maybe that’s just how bad he smells,” you said. 
The drider looked amused. 
“He hasn’t yet conquered you? Has he?” he asked. 
“If I could stab him in the neck, I would,” you admitted, clutching the silver spoon you held. “Only it wouldn’t work, would it? He’s warded himself cleverly.” 
“You don’t fear retribution? Telling all this to his general?” he asked, touching a lock of your hair and examining it. 
“I don’t believe he’s conquered you, either,” you said. “I’d bet my life on it. You want out of here just as much as I do. What’s keeping you? You’re strong…and very stealthy, I might add. How long were you watching from the ceiling?” 
He tipped his head, interested in you. Everyone around Ruvain whimpered and cowered in front of Camus; you were very different. 
“Where is a monster like me to go?” he asked. “The village from where you came would never accept me. If I didn’t work for Camus, I would have to live in the forest, where some intrepid knight would come for my head on a quest, thinking I had a magic liver or some other such nonsense. I was stolen from a land far from here, and I’m unsure how to return..” 
“So you bide your time serving that asshole?” you asked. 
He looked thoughtful. 
“I thought having access to the royal library would produce some results,” he admitted. “Camus pulled me through a portal. I can’t take a ship back. For all I know, he’s taken me from another universe entirely. In fact, that’s how he obtains all of his ‘monsters.’ To answer your other question, I’ve been watching you since you arrived.”
“And in all this time, you’ve found nothing?” you asked. 
He frowned. 
“Camus has a secret workshop that I think holds the answers I seek,” he said, “but I can’t get access to it. It’s warded, and if I tried, Camus would know and order my death. I have to approach it very carefully.” 
“Slimy bastard,” you grumbled, and Ruvain gave you another of his silky chuckles.  
“It is very frustrating, but I wouldn’t say I’ve found nothing. I’ve certainly found something,” he said, his eyes flashing. 
“Well, is it useful?” you asked. 
His eight eyes blinked in an eerie cascade. 
“Only time will answer that question,” he said. 
“Care to share?” you said, and he gave you a wide smile. 
“We’ve only just met. I can’t reveal all of my secrets,” he said. 
You scrubbed your hair and growled your frustration. 
“Since I’ve come here, it’s been nothing but secrets,” you huffed. “I miss my ranch. I miss my family. He took the only good things in my life, and now…now I’m just a doll for him to dress.” 
“Know this (Y/N): you have my protection,” he said. 
You sighed. 
“You don’t have to make me promises like that, Ruvain,” you said. “I know you’re only looking after me for Camus. I don’t need your lies. I’m all too aware of the truth.” 
He tipped his head and gave you a curious look. 
“You will learn the truth of things soon,” he said ominously. 
You wanted to ask more, but Camus came in like a tornado, his face the picture of rage. 
“How could they?” he snarled. “They are nothing…ants, and they think they can capture me? I’ll destroy them…crush them under my boot.” 
His spooky eyes, milky white, turned in your direction. 
“I’ll have you tonight!” he said, which seemed to cheer him up a bit. 
He crossed the room and cupped your cheeks in his hands, meeting your gaze. 
“You’re thrilled, aren’t you, darling?” he asked. “You’ve been waiting for my body, haven’t you? Saving yourself for me? I won’t make you wait any longer, and I’ll fly your virgin blood as a flag for those vermin to see as they arrive. Before they die, they’ll know I’ve taken you and filled you with my seed.” 
He was too frantic, his eyes filled with madness, to notice your fear. You did not want him to touch you, and you weren’t a virgin. You trembled, wondering what he would do when he discovered that fact. It wouldn’t be your virgin blood on that sheet; it would come straight from your veins. 
He clapped his hands and grinned, his crooked, rotting teeth making bile rise in your throat. 
“I must prepare myself!” he beamed. “Our first night of passion and the counteroffensive must be timed perfectly!” 
His eyes flicked to the drider. 
“Take my Queen into the city, to the fashion district,” he said. “I want her to choose something just for me. A dress, lingerie, oils and perfumes!” 
You were surprised he didn’t want to dress you himself, but it seemed he wanted to feel that you adored him, proving so with whatever you chose. You wanted to be sick. 
“Don’t let me down, (Y/N),” he said, winking at you. 
You gave him a tight bow. 
“It will be as you wish, Your Highness,” you choked out, and he hurried out of the room. 
You gave Ruvain a serious look. 
“End me, Ruvain,” you said. “I’m too much of a coward to put a knife to my own skin. Do me this favor. I won’t let that…monster touch me! He’ll have fuck my cold corpse.” 
Ruvain shook his head. 
“There are so many reasons I won’t grant you your request, but the most important for you to know is that death will not end your misery. If you kill yourself, If I killed you…he would resurrect you…tie you to him for eternity,” he explained. “A far worse fate than a few minutes underneath him.” 
Your heart turned cold as ice, and you gasped. 
“No,” you murmured. “He can’t! I can’t…” 
“He will,” Ruvain insisted, lowering himself so you were eye to eye.”Camus has no real magic but we can get out of artifacts. He experiments with alchemy. Reanimating bodies, fusing what few relics he finds to living hosts…But I told you. I will protect you.” 
“How?” you gasped. “He holds all the cards.” 
“Well, the window wasn’t a good option, but now we have some time to play with,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “First, we need to get a message out to your kin. They will only get themselves murdered coming here when we’ve just escaped.” 
“Escaped?” you asked. “What do you mean? You just said you wouldn’t let me escape.”
He smiled down at you. 
“I told you I would protect you,” he said. “I’ve been working out a plan since I first saw you.” 
You blinked up at him.
“You-you have?” you asked. 
He gave you a grave look. 
“I’m no better than Camus,” he admitted. “I won’t return you to your countrymen, but I will protect you. In my web, you will always be safe. Do you…do you hate me?” 
Your mouth dropped open, and you slowly shook your head. Your cheeks were burning like hot irons. The handsome drider thought he would take you for his own? Fear and uncertainty flickered within you, but Ruvain didn’t smell like death, and making love to him would be no hardship, assuming driders and humans could make love. 
“Um..n-no,” you said. “I don’t hate you…” 
He smiled, showing a white, sharp fang.
“That’s enough for me,” he said. “Now to your message. I have many spies that can reach out to your countrymen, but they won’t believe a warning coming from me. You must record one on a recording crystal. You’ll tell them you’ve escaped and are fleeing, not to come for you.” 
He gave you another sobering glance. 
“Once you record this, however, there is no doubt it will eventually fall into Camus’s hands. I have many spies, but so does he. He will know you ran from him, and he will spare no expense to find and punish you,” he said. 
“Wait, wait!” you said, waving your hands. “What about you? You have a mission here. We can’t run away without whatever he has in his lab!” 
He smiled again. 
“Don’t worry your pretty head over that,” he said. “With a gorgeous companion, my time in this realm will be far more…pleasant. Returning to my homeland can wait.” 
You took a step forward, setting a hand on his fuzzy leg. 
“I don’t want to tear your dreams from you, Ruvain,” you said. “It’s not fair. My family is gone…they’re never coming back, but yours are waiting for you.” 
His face softened into an expression that was hard to imagine a powerful drider would have. 
“You’re still very young,” he assured you. “People assume dreams are static things, that they are losing something if they change. That’s not true at all. Dreams morph and blossom like flowers. You are stealing nothing from me and giving me so much more in return.” 
Again, your cheeks burned from his tenderness. If he had some nefarious plan for you, he was doing a damn good job breaking down your walls. 
He chuckled. 
“Camus is going to be very angry when he realizes you walked right out of the front door to escape him,” he said. “I kind of wish I’d be here to see it.” 
You gave Ruvain a shy nod, and he waved a hand for you to proceed. 
“After you, my Queen,” he said. 
The sun was sinking low in the sky when you climbed into the royal carriage. Ruvain walked alongside as it made its way slowly through the bustling city. The citizens were used to seeing Camus’s monsters running errands, and many of them had even made friends when they went to drink in the bars and visit the brothels. 
They were much more afraid of who might be inside the carriage. No one wanted to be in the King’s eyeline. It would only lead to ruin. Ruvain had given you a recording crystal, and in the privacy of the carriage, you’d made your message and returned it to him. 
You’d told those who would avenge you that you were escaping and going into hiding. You told them not to look for you for their own safety but that you would send a message later to assure them you were okay. 
You could not tell them to drop their uprising. Those who would stand up to their King did so for many more reasons than a single woman; you were only the last straw. A revolt was a long time coming, so you sent them the Goddess’s blessing and only asked them to be smart and safe. Do not fly into battle blinded by rage, you’d warned. The King is wiley and immortal. You must be quiet and clever if you mean to unseat him. 
Your heart pounded as you entered the fashion district. Ruvain insisted you needed to be seen shopping, or the King’s spies would realize you were running immediately. Ruvain worked best in darkness, so you would stay out until sunset. 
You went to shop after shop poking around. Not intending to wear any of it, you purchased the most expensive, obnoxious items you could, happy to be spending the King’s money frivolously. Your heart pounded in your chest as the sun set. It was time to put your plan into action. 
Ruvain took you to a spa to have you bathed, plucked, and oiled up like a dinner chicken. Only you didn’t do any of that. The moment you were checked in, you asked one of the ladies for the bathroom and slipped out of the back door. 
Ruvain was supposed to meet you in the alley on the other side, and the two of you would climb the rooftops out of the city. 
That’s not who greeted you when you opened the door. Yes, Ruvain was there, but he was surrounded by six of Camus’s monsters– three nagas and three minotaurs. Camus stood there, smugly tossing the crystal you’d sent in his hand. 
“Tsk. Tsk.” he said, peering at you in the torchlight. “I offered you everything, and you chose to betray me. You should know this spider is a devil. He would have eaten you once you left the city. However, I am kind, and you are just a naive farmgirl; I’ll give you a chance at redemption. Come to me.” 
He held his hand out to you. You growled at him. Now that your escape plan had been discovered, there was no reason to pretend. 
“I’d rather he eat me one limb at a time than fuck your zombie body!” you snapped, then spat at him. 
Ruvain gave you a glance filled with both worry for your mouthing off and also sudden determination. Camus’s face turned to one of pure rage. 
“You snivelling bitch! You’re nothing! I could have had you and then tossed you in a ditch, but I offered you the world! To be a Queen!” 
“You’re nothing but a filthy murderer who hides behind creatures with nowhere else to go!” you shouted. “Those who have come to challenge you do so with nothing but pitchforks and torches. They have more spine than you’ll ever have!” 
“You won’t speak to me that way!” he snarled, the nagas at his side slithering towards you and one grabbing you by each arm. 
“I’m going to let you watch while my monsters tear this traitor’s legs off one by one!” Camus promised, glaring at Ruvain. 
His face had lost the fear it held and was only a mask of indifference. 
“Perhaps,” he said, eyeing the minotaurs approaching him. “You are not the only one protected by magic. You know so little of the creatures you've detained." 
He murmured some words under his breath, and in the flickering firelight, a wave of darkness roiled around you. It looked like the earth itself was writhing, a shiny black, living oil…only it wasn’t liquid. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly until the wave began climbing one of the naga’s bodies. Then it was all too clear; millions of spiders rolled over him like the tide rising. 
His screams pierced the night air as he frantically tried to brush them off. 
It was no use; the wave kept coming, and more and more spiders filled the alley, climbing the walls and smothering the torches. 
“I’ll give you a choice,” Ruvain told the other monsters. “You can die like your friend is going to die…or you can hand me the girl and join me.” 
“Don’t you dare!” Camus screeched, watching in horror as the naga’s face, covered in spiders, began to bloat, pustules forming and popping from their venomous bites until he all but dissolved in front of you. 
The other monsters looked horrified, and a moment later, you stumbled to the ground as they dropped you. 
“Come here, darling,” Ruvain hissed, waving a hand at you. 
You scrambled across the ground, the sea of spiders parting in your path. 
Ruvain scooped you up and set you on his back. 
“You fool!” Camus snarled, tearing his eyes away from the bloated, deformed body beside him. “You can’t harm me! I’m invincible!” 
Ruvain laughed. 
“I don’t need to harm you. In fact, I need you alive,” he said. He nodded at two of the minotaurs. “Bring him. We’re returning to the castle. I’m sending you all home.” 
Camus screamed and howled, but carrying him against his will was no harm, so his amulet did nothing. His only power was in the monsters he wielded. He carried no other weapons because he was arrogant and smug. His monsters would follow his order to the letter because they had nowhere else to go. 
The minotaurs dragged him behind you through the back alleys. Everyone in the city knew not to meddle in anyone else’s affairs. Camus himself had set such a precedent. So they ignored his cries, as they’d been taught. Shutters closed, and doors were locked as you proceeded to a secret back entrance to the castle. 
As you moved through the castle, the monsters you passed were quite happy to let you through. Ruvain told them simply that he was sending them home, and they fell in line, interested to see how this played out. They all had nothing to lose and everything to gain. 
You stopped in front of a door covered in runes. 
“Open it,” Ruvain barked. 
Camus, still filled with pride, shook his head. 
“Never! I’ll never bow to a bunch of mindless creatures!” he spat. 
Ruvain shrugged. 
“I can’t hurt you; we all know that,” he said. “But spiders crawling in and out of all your orifices for the rest of your miserable eternity causes no direct harm. I can’t imagine it will be pleasant, though.” 
If Camus’s face could blanch, it would have. 
“Let me go; I have to use my hands!” he snapped. 
The minotaurs looked to Ruvain for guidance, and after a thought, he nodded. 
Camus stumbled forward, turning three of the runes so they formed a pattern you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t seen it after it was solved. The heavy stone door slid open to a set of stone stairs leading downward. 
“Let’s go, him first,” Ruvain said, shoving Camus forward. 
The parade of monsters followed Camus into the darkness. You worried he’d tricked you all when you finally reached a basement that smelled of rot. You coughed and covered your mouth. 
“What is that smell?” you asked, but it was soon clear. 
The laboratory, if you could call it that, was filled with dissected bodies. Monsters, people, you couldn’t tell one from the other as they were all flayed like raw fish. The only other notable thing other than sets of alchemy tools, bits of metal, and flesh was a large round mirror on one wall. 
“Hold him,” Ruvain told the minotaurs, “don’t let him touch anything. I know what I’m looking for.” 
Ruvain set you on the ground and started shuffling through papers. He gave a cheerful shout when he found the right scroll and a small book. You peeked over his shoulder, curious. 
“This is the spell to take us home,” he said, then showed you the book. “These are the coordinates of where he pulled us all from.” 
“Now then,” he said. “Since we no longer need him, what shall we do with him?” 
You all looked around the room,y our eyes landing on the torture equipment, disappointed you couldn’t just dissect him like he’d done to the poor souls rotting on the tables. 
One of the nagas had an idea. 
“Let’s lock him away, where no one will find him, and he’ll never escape,” he said, nodding to a small inset in the wall near the back of the room where a candelabra would normally go. It was just the right size for a body.
“I expect your silk is too strong to break with his fingers or teeth," the naga said.
Ruvain's face filled with an evil smile. 
“That it is, friend!” he said, “I can spin a silk so strong even steel swords or fire won’t break it.”  
“No! No! You can’t!” Camus screamed, but it was no use.
Locking him up caused no direct harm, so there was nothing he could do. As a lich, he did not need to eat or breathe, so a comfy coat of spider silk was harmless to his health.
He cried and begged, promising everyone in the room the world, but Ruvain simply took him in his arms, taking his time as he wrapped line after line of silk around him. The monsters listened to each scream and cry with satisfied smiles until Ruvain stuffed his mouth with spider silk and sealed it up. He finished wrapping as Camus whimpered, a mummy of white silk. Then he stuck him in the inset and sealed the whole thing up with a web of more silk. You couldn’t even hear him inside. From the outside, it looked like a nasty spider infestation but nothing more. 
The monsters gave one another high fives as their task was complete. 
“Now to send you all home,” Ruvain said. 
He scurried over to the mirror, twisting and turning various runes until a world appeared in the glass. 
“Home!” the minotaurs gasped, racing forward through it before Ruvain had even waved them on. 
You winced, expecting them to shatter the glass, but instead, they passed right through it. They ran through without a single glance back. One after another, he put in the coordinates of each of the monsters’ homes, and they left, some of them thanking him, others so excited they simply ran before the chance passed them by. When every monster was gone, you gave Ruvain a sad look. 
“It’s time for you,” you said, smiling a little. “You were my savior, and I can never thank you enough for that, but I understand you need to return home.” 
He smirked at you. 
“Now I can go home whenever I like,” he told you. “And perhaps I will someday, but now we have your world to attend to.” 
You looked at him, confused. 
“What do you mean? You’re free? Why aren’t you running like the rest?” you asked. 
“Because my world never needed me and this world needs a Queen,” he said. “And a Queen needs her guardian knight and first general. With the word of their Queen, your world will accept me, not as a monster, but as your companion.” 
He bowed in front of you, taking your hand and kissing it.
“I offer you my life, Your Radience,” he said, then peeked up and winked at you. “But don’t think because you’re my Queen, I’m ever letting you go. You’re mine, and we will rule this land together.” 
He stood and looked around. 
“Now, let’s get out of this filthy place. I’ll have the mirror moved somewhere that doesn’t smell like death and seal this miserable laboratory up forever,” he said. “I’ll  be sure to make it look like every other wall in this castle so no one has the bright idea to go exploring looking for treasure and instead finding an angry lich.” 
He returned you to his back, and the two of you ascended back to the empty castle. Footsteps echoed through the halls, and soon, you were faced with a bunch of farmers carrying torches and pitchforks. 
“Free her from the creature!” someone shouted, but you held up your hands in panic, worried they would hurt Ruvain. 
“My companion is not your enemy, people of the land!” you shouted. 
They all looked at one another, confused. 
“He’s one of Camus’s monsters!” one of them said. 
“NO, no. You are very wrong,” you explained. “Ruvain has freed us from Camus and sent all of the monsters back to their homes. They never wanted to be here to start. Ruvain is mine. You will not take him from me!” 
The villagers looked confused, but they’d noticed on the way in that no one had put up a fight. The monsters appeared to be gone, and the castle was empty, but what servants hadn’t run the moment no one was looking. 
“Her Majesty (Y/N) gives me too much credit,” Ruvain said, smiling down at you. “She is the one that deserves your thanks for freeing us from the nasty lich. I am only her servant, bound by the same gratitude as you should be. She is my Queen and should be yours as well for her service to the kingdom. There is a power vacuum now that the lich is gone. Do you want it filled with some other despot who cares nothing for you or a woman from your own land? She’s brave, kind, intelligent, and beautiful. The countryside will welcome a humble Queen who is one of their own.” 
Ruvain bowed to you deeply. The lead villager gave you an odd look and turned to discuss the issue with his fellow countrymen. A moment later, torches were extinguished, and pitchforks hit the floor with a clang as the villagers bowed as well. 
“Long live Queen (Y/N)!” they shouted in unison. 
You couldn’t help your burning cheeks, but you knew your kin needed strength, not a shy girl, so you tipped your head. 
“I promise to serve you well,” you said as Queenly as possible. “Now, we must rebuild what Camus has broken. You are the bravest, strongest citizens of Ventirest. You came here knowing you would face monsters with only your farmtools and spirits. I can never truly express how your care for a simple farm girl moved me. I would be honored to have you form my guard if you are willing.” 
“We will begin to rebuild tomorrow,” Ruvain said. “For tonight, you have traveled a long way, and the Queen has accomplished much in only a few hours. Let’s all rest. Run and tell the heralds to inform the people Camus is defeated. Tonight, they should celebrate their freedom.” 
The villagers gave Ruvain uncertain glances, but mostly because it was hard not to be frightened by such a large creature, especially one with eight legs. You encouraged them with a nod, and they gathered their tools and took off to the barracks where the monsters used to sleep when they ran the guard. 
“I’ve told you a lie,” Ruvain admitted when they’d gone as he sat you on his back. 
“What is that?” you asked, your heart fluttering, hoping he wouldn’t let you down, that he didn’t do this all to trick you. 
“I told them you needed rest when, really, I just wanted you all to myself,” he said. 
His gold eyes glinted with mischief. 
“Should I be worried?” you asked, your voice wan, and he chuckled. 
“Only if you don’t like orgasms,” he said, crawling down the hallway towards the unused Queens chambers. 
You’d have to fumigate the former King’s room and bed. It all smelled like rot. 
Your cheeks burned again at his words, and a very special tingle shot down your spine to your core. 
When you entered the room, he set you down on the floor, sliding the door shut behind you with one elegant leg. You watched, your heart racing, as he slowly and deliberately lit the fireplace, then the candles, casting your bedroom in soft, flickering light. 
When his gold eyes finally met yours, they were full of hunger. 
"You said you'd rather I eat you than for that lich to fuck you," he hummed, circling you to take in your form. 
He lowered his head, sniffing your neck.
"I liked that," he purred, and a shudder that was something between fear and excitement rolled through you. 
You let out a yip, as he pounced on you, taking you up in his arms and climbing gracefully to a shadowy corner at the arch of the vaulted curling. 
Candlelight flickered in his eyes so that they glowed in the darkness. 
Another surprised yelp echoed against the stone, mixed with the sound of fabric tearing as Ruvain ravenously stripped your dress from you with his teeth. Strips of gold and indigo fluttered to the floor far below. 
“You’ll never don human clothing again,” he insisted. “I’ll have dressed made of spider silk, so you always wear my mark.” 
When you were bare, he examined every part of you, all the white spinning web he crisscrossed to form a large nest for the two of you to rest. 
"Wh-what are you doing?" you asked, your breath shaking as one arm, then the other was bound by silver silk. 
He grinned at you. 
"This is how driders mate," he hummed, diligently tying elegant knots to bind your limbs. Your legs were tied open, and your neck and hips pulled slightly so your back was arched, your breasts presented to him. 
You had to admit the knots and lace he formed with strong, nimble fingers were beautiful and complex. You trembled both with a touch of fear and a lot of desire. His chest and arms were chiseled from a lifetime of climbing around lofty places. Your eyes followed his elegant movements. 
The men you'd known from town were stocky and strong from a farmer's life of chopping wood and eating beef, but Ruvain's figure was all athletic elegance. His muscles were chorded and lean, flexing as he tightened one knot and then another. 
It was a delight to watch. 
When he seemed happy with the lace of web he'd tied you up with; his attention turned to you. A finger traced your breasts, then drifted lower where his eyes ate up the tender flesh between your thighs. 
"I've been dying to taste you, darling," he said, glancing up. 
His lips brushed yours lightly at first, and then as if you were a sweet surprise, they landed more firmly, his tongue pushing into you. 
"Mmm," he groaned, tasting you as it slid over yours.
When he pulled away, he looked ravenous.
Lowering his head, he returned to examining you between your thighs, fingers parting your folds.
"I'm fascinated by your anatomy. Your two legs hide such a pretty treasure." 
He circled your clit, making you moan. Never in your life had you thought being trussed up would get you hot, but your cunt was dripping for him. You squirmed in the soft silk bindings, testing their tightness. You were his prey. He could do what he liked to you. 
Unable to hold himself back any longer, his head lowered, a long, searing tongue collecting the moisture at your slit. 
"Mmm," he hummed, licking you with long strokes between pressing kisses onto the inside of your thighs. "I love how soft you are. You're going to feel so good on my cock." 
His tongue explored your channel, making you let out a loud gasp. 
"Mmm, Ruvain," you murmured, making him chuckle, the silky laugh that made your nipples harden. 
"Are you eager for me?" he asked, teasing you with a finger as his eyes focused on your face, a smug smirk on his lips. 
"P-please Ruvain," you whimpered, every inch of your skin tense and sparkling, begging for release. 
"Be patient, little human," he purred. "I'm still exploring." 
One finger circled your back hole experimentally before two more entered your pussy. 
"Ahhh!" you mewled, twisting in your bonds. 
He lowered his head again, licking and sucking your clit until your pleading and sobbing filled the room. His fingers worked inside you gently, the third teasing you where you'd never been touched before. You didn't know it could feel good, but he drove you mad. He brought you higher and higher until you cracked, and an orgasm bloomed from deep in your core and blossomed over your whole body. 
Your nipples especially were tight and desperate for his touch. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, sucking your flavor off the ones covered in your juices. 
"Mmm," he said, briefly closing his eyes as he savored you. 
When you'd regained your senses, Ruvain was perched over you, palming his cock as he watched you. His other hand pinched a nipple, twisting it gently to see your response. The eyes you were trying to keep open squeezed shut as he toyed with them, soon leaning down to play with them with his tongue. 
"So sensitive," he growled, and you felt his sharp teeth nip at the sensitive skin, "and so vulnerable. You're all mine. I could keep you up here forever and torture you, making you fall apart over and over again for me." 
"I need you, Ruvain, please," you whimpered, your eyes on the large shaft he was stroking in his hand. 
The smile on his lips widened to show all of his sharp teeth. 
"I do like it when you beg," he hummed. "Your sweet pleas are very hard to resist." 
He didn't make you wait any longer, sheathing himself in your hot, wet cunt. He hissed, and his hands gripped your hips as he seated himself inside of you. 
"You're searing inside," he groaned, sliding slowly out and thrusting back in with a bit more force.  
You jerked in the silk as he drove into you for several strokes, purely for the pleasure of breaching you, before his sense came back to him. His eyes shone as he kneaded your breasts and curled his body down to you to invade your mouth with his tongue. It moved against yours, mimicking the treatment your pussy was getting. 
His powerful hips slammed into yours, held firm by his web. You cried out in his mouth, and you heard a lusty growl build in his throat. He pulled back, leaving your lips wet and shining. 
"That's it my sweet little human, milk my cock," he hummed, never taking his eyes off of yours. 
Your pussy was doing all of the work since you couldn't move, squeezing and spasming around his thick cock. 
"You belong to me. Every inch of your tender flesh; your mouth, your cunt, your cute little asshole are mine to use and enjoy," he growled, one hand clutching your throat while he pounded harder and more raggedly.
 "If anyone else touches what's mine, I'll kill them, slowly. You understand? I'm never letting you go. I'll never tolerate a competitor," he promised. "I'll let you perform your duties as Queen, but if you ever let anyone too close, I'll steal you away to my homeland, fucking your pretty body until you forget about this world altogether. I’ll make you my toy. You'll cum when I let you and beg me for my seed…and I will make you beg."
His threats were lost on you. Your thoughts were scattered, drowning in bliss as he filled you over and over again. Your pleasure was at his mercy. He could give it and take it away as he liked. Fortunately, at that moment, all he wanted to do was give. 
His finger circled your clit, while he sucked on your nipples, pushing you closer and closer to your end. 
"Beg me," he demanded. "Beg me to let you cum." 
You would have agreed to anything. 
"Please, please , Ruvain, please, don't stop," you wailed. "You feel so good. Please let me cum!" 
He gave you a devious smile at you as his eyes rolled back in his head. 
"Tell me you want me to fill you with my child," he demanded. "Tell me I'm the only one who gets to spend his seed in your womb." 
Your eyes squeezed shut, hovering just on the tip of an explosion. 
"Anything you want, Ruvain," you said. "I'll carry your child. I'll give my body to you; just please don't stop!" 
He laughed, pleased that you were willing to be his, and doubled his efforts. His mouth crashed against yours, pulling your tongue into his mouth and stroking it. You felt pleasure in places you'd never felt before. Your lips and tongue were sparkling. Your breasts ached, brushing against his chest, your nipples hard points. And finally, your cunt felt like a vice on his cock, his thick shaft hitting every sensitive spot. 
You detonated in his arms, the world dissolving, and your only conscious understanding was Ruvain's scent, touch, and delicious, overwhelming pleasure. Colors exploded behind your eyes, and your body felt like fireworks. Your muscles went completely limp as Ruvain emptied his cum inside you. There was so much, waves of hot fluid gushing from your cunt. You heard it splash against the stone floor far below you from somewhere far away. 
"I love you, (Y/N)," he breathed in your ear. "The moment he stole you from your village, you were mine. You may take time to feel the same tenderness for me, but I'm happy to wait." 
He carefully extracted you from the nest he'd made, orienting himself so he could tie you to his chest with more silk to rest. 
In any other circumstance, you would been frightened being so far up, but you felt perfectly safe tied to Ruvain's body, and your thoughts quickly muddied as you fell asleep.
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dollmoth-productions · 2 months
Note
Yandere lute with mortal reader?
YANDERE LUTE WITH MORTAL READER 
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⚠️ ⚠️WARNING, OBSESSIVE, ABUSIVE, POSSESSIVE ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR I DO NOT ENDORSE THIS THIS IS PURELY FICTION!!!⚠️⚠️
🖤 to be honest she loves order and she makes sure that you are safe 24 seven no matter what if you somehow gotten to heaven and you’re still human she’s even more protective because you’re a flight risk
🤍 however, she loves you a lot and tries her best to help you, especially trying to get used to the orders of heaven
🖤 in the end she’s still a stickler for rules so you’re pretty much confined to her room 24 seven if she’s out with you, she will make sure that you will buy the necessary items that you need to survive
🤍 overprotective you’re not a demon so she doesn’t find it appealing to hurt you since you’re still immortal human soul well, you’re pretty good she’ll try to keep you on the right path of saying holy
🖤 besides, her can touch you and even her touch is pretty harsh though especially when you try to escape
🤍 she’s possessive and very much overprotective. She doesn’t worship you like Adam, but she does see you as her second.
🖤 the fight with hell well, let’s just say that you’re not really allowed to leave her room or even heaven anymore
🤍 not even for nothing she will give you food. You will cook it and when she gets back you too, will have discussions for hours mostly about how the fight went and how much she hates Lilith.
🖤 she still basically like Canon, except worse!!
………………………………………………..……………………………
This was really fun to write. I might get back in the group of things once I get out of severe writers  block and get motivation. 
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forbidden-sunlight · 5 months
Text
yandere!Jax with gender-neutral!magician!reader headcanons
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Warnings: obsessive behavior, implied bullying, spoilers for the pilot episode.
There may also be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
Hey guys and welcome to my very first fic for the indie animation that has shaken up Youtube, The Amazing Digital Circus! If you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend it! :) Special thanks to @ceoofdabicorpsensfw for helping me figure out characterization and with a few scenes I was struggling with in this new writing style I am trying out. If you would like me to write more TADC content on here or on my other blog @an-idyllic-novelist please let me know!
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going today in the digital plane! :)
Whenever someone new arrives at the Amazing Digital Circus, it would fall on either Ragatha or Alakazam to get them all sorted out before they start to lose their mind. Alakazam, of course, would be Caine’s reference to you. You couldn’t remember your name and the ringmaster needed a magician. Tit for tat as they say, right?
The daily adventures around the digital plane provide stimulation and prevent everyone from losing what remaining insanity you all had left, especially since you couldn’t eat or sleep. A routine is also very good too, as you have suggested to Pomni. But she still insists on finding an exit. Just like what you all have tried to do when you first came here.
If there is one person who is seemingly unaffected by the situation, you would have to say it would be Jax. Either that, or the purple-furred rabbit just didn’t give a shit so long as he got some fun out of it. The guy’s existence would have been obsolete ages ago if he didn’t insult Kingler or ‘accidentally’ broke Gangle’s comedy mask for the nth time, which would lead you or Ragatha to calm her down long enough for it to be properly fixed for the next adventure.
What you did not realize, however, was that the pranks Jax pulled on you were actually much tamer compared to what he did to everyone else. Especially when one of them was getting more attention from you than he was receiving.
After all, there’s nowhere else in this place who can keep up with his sass and jokes and not get so bent out of shape over something small like popping a balloon right next to your ear. Maybe Ragatha, but she’s so boring~.
Not only would Jax be a possessive yandere who can get jealous easily, he’s also curious. He wants to know everything about you, down to the smallest detail about what you did today, yesterday, and the day before yesterday. Don’t be surprised if one of your items goes missing, only to have it suddenly turn up the following day. Actually, you might not wanna know why Jax took it and what he even did with it. If he took your journal or your playing cards, the last remaining building blocks of your sanity in this place…well, you must have done something to really piss him off.
Who knows? Maybe if you gave him the attention he craved for and even participated in a well-meaning, harmless prank, Jax might leave a love letter on your bed, written with a [Favorite Color] crayon inside the shape of a purple heart.
If you had a really bad day that led to your abstraction, Jax would also go insane. Because losing his darling, the most important person in his life, would finally push this childish jackass to his breaking point and just…let it go.
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Taglist
@angelltheninth
@nunezs-stuff
@dragonempress18
@thejester0897
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yanteetle · 4 months
Note
I LOVE LOCE LOOOVE YOUR ART
Especially Raph
*Proceeds to eat all your Raphael art*
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I usually don't expose my personal Raph sketches but I'm brainrotting him so hard and I need more fics of him (me hoping that this will inspire more raph fics to come out of the fandom's writingussy <3)
Taglist: @dynaspamm@faetaiity@fried-milkfish@milks-thoughts @hearteyedracoon @crystallinecryogenics @m0nster-fluffer @syrinxmeadow @zxphy@mellytumbles@nekonekoastume @sockidox @temmerlover@ramblehour@redak-ted@unnamedindividual@lampylamperson@elegantkidfansoul@lexiechr@yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair@gemini-forest @galaxyblast23 @sardonic-the-writer@0what-a-guy0@oleander-nin
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yandere-fetish · 4 days
Text
Yandere Soulmate and Yandere Reincarnator X Female Reader
Part One
warnings: two male yanderes, rejection, reincarnation, death mentions, soulmates, possesive
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Yandere Soulmate rejects you on the spot at a bar you went to out of boredom.
This leads to you walking home in a daze, stumbling along the road. You wonder if you're not good enough, or is he simply not open to romance? Maybe he prefers a girl with soft tones? Or maybe someone with a posh style?
All these maybes were taking up your mind when you should have been watching your surroundings.
All of a sudden, you were dead.
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And then you were alive again.
You blinked in your bed and found yourself back to that very morning, the morning before you met him.
After deciding that it was best to avoid your soulmate at all costs, you go shopping early that morning. As a rich young lady who's heir to the Hymai Fashion legacy, shopping is only second nature to you.
Time's a blur and the next thing you know, you're on Cloud 9. A dazzling smile on your face, one of those big floppy hats on your head to block out the shining sun, and multiple bags littering the bodyguards' arms.
Names like Prada, Versace, Hermès, Cartier, Dior, Chanel, and Armani decorate the bags.
"Let's grab a bite to eat, boys. I'm starving after our little shopping spree!"
*BAM*
You aren't watching where you're going and run into your soulmate by surprise!
You're waiting for the rejection, knowing it's coming.
But nothing comes.
Instead, Yandere Soulmate smiles at you and hands you his card. Then, he ends up walking away with a coy smile etched on his face.
You're so confused. So confused that you stand, dazed, in the middle of the shopping court, staring at the space that's now empty.
"Keep in touch, doll."
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Yandere Soulmate is pleasantly surprised when you choose to keep quiet about the bond the two of you share. The business group he had traveled with was a judgemental one, and if she doesn't fit the standards of a dutiful soulmate before he could fix it, it would not be worth having her.
But luckily, not only was she adorable, but that doe caught in the headlights look was simply unfathomable.
He craved it.
Needed more of it.
Needless to say, Yandere Soulmate is on edge, waiting for your phone call or text. He doesn't hear from you at all for a week. And on the second week, when you still refuse to call or text him, Yandere Soulmate begins drinking in his private lounge.
The whispers of a new company daring to compete with his family's company was enough to give him a hassle at work, now he must worry about his soulmate. Drunk and irked, Yandere Soulmate sends words to his people. His eyes slit like a snake as he takes the last sip of his expensive whiskey.
"Find that girl from earlier. Spare no expense."
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It had been three weeks since meeting your Yandere Soulmate.
It had been two weeks since you began "coincidentally" meeting Yandere Reincarnator.
You met him at a coffee shop by accidentally grabbing his black coffee instead of your own.
Since then, you've continuously been meeting him at different locations by coincidence.
You two share small talk. It starts out small, like what you two do for a living. Turns out he's a big hotshot CEO hellbent on being the first millionaire of his family. You couldn't help but smile at his ambition. It takes until the fifth time the two of you "accidentally" meet to tell you about his other half.
It's a simple and sad story, one you can empathize with. Hell, you know first-hand what it was like to be rejected by your very own soulmate, so to hear he had been cheated on was heartbreaking to you. The way Yandere Reincarnator told his story made you feel as if you had been cheated on yourself!
So when Yandere Reincarnator appears in front of you, asking you to play as his very own soulmate during a very important business deal, you thought it over.
Thoughtfully, you agreed.
Yandere Reincarnator had taken the liberty of buying you a dress, shoes, and a clutch to hold your accessories.
"You really didn't have to buy the dress and shoes.. even this clutch—"
"No, no. You deserve the best, (Y/N). You look absolutely gorgeous in that color."
"*blushes* Thank you..."
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When you and Yandere Reincarnator show up at the club, Yandere Reincarnator walks you over to the VIP table where his business partner was waiting.
The moment he stood up from his chair, you could see his mesmerizing face and just knew you were in for one hell of a night.
Yandere Soulmate had been genuinely astonished to see you appear on the arm of his business rival and soon-to-be partner. With a clenched jaw, Yandere Soulmate greets you and his now love rival.
Seems like you were one interesting girl.
Yandere Reincarnator doesn't feel the tension between you and Yandere Soulmate, but he does see the longing looks that Yandere Soulmate gives his supposed soulmate despite bringing a female companion. He didn't have a chance to confront the man until he was given a chance.
"(Y/N), what do you think of the contract?"
"Hmm, I don't know much about the business between the two of you but.. if you think it's worthwhile, I'd go for it. Otherwise, let's leave the deal on the table and leave."
"What? Wait—"
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be. *gently guilds you out the booth*"
"Get your hands off my soulmate!"
"Your soulmate?"
"Yes. She's paired with me, which means she's my soulmate."
"(Y/N)? *raises an eyebrow*"
"*purses lips and looks at Yandere Soulmate in disgust* Soulmate? I think you mean stranger."
"No, I know it and you know it. You're my soulmate."
"Funny joke but that ship sailed three weeks ago when you rejected me."
"What? *genuinely confused* When did I—"
"Wait. This is the guy who abandoned you?"
"*frowns, glaring at Yandere Reincarnator* She's mine! *turns to you* You're mine! (Y/N), you and I are meant to be!"
"And you destroyed that. If I'm meant to be with anyone, it's him. *gestures to Yandere Reincarnator* He's the one who's bothered to come see me. He's the one who took me shopping. He's the one who brought me here. If anything, he's the one I should want— the one I should be meant to be with! After all, you're the one who threw me away. Now you want me back because I suddenly look nice and can match your preferences? Quit dreaming! *walks away with Yandere Reincarnator*"
"(Y/N), don't think you can walk away from me!"
"She's in my territory, therefore she's under my protection. If you want (Y/N), you'll have to deal with me."
Part Two?
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