#yandere white widow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mayullla · 2 months

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Title: He took away his own kind.

Character(s): Kitune (Original Character) Summary: You were a weak yokai, one who was loved by your own followers and you loved them back. Unknown to you tho, a powerful yokai had taken an interest in you and want you to be his. Warnings/tags: Yandere Kitsune x Kitsune!reader, yandere themes, drugging, non-con relationship, manipulation, 5k word count

You had always been a little kinder compared to the other kitsunes, a little more gentle with your followers and the people who believed in you. You were more docile compared to the more mischievous ones. You were a small yokai, recently born compared to those who lived hundreds of years. You had fewer followers than them, with no more than 100, most of them older. Maybe that was why you were more cautious, watching over them rather than teasing them.

You acted almost like a caretaker to them. You were a kitsune with one tail, still young in the eyes of other yokai, yet with just enough power to give a little relief in the lives of those who believed in you. But you didn't lose that mischievous part of yourself. While limited, you often teased the little boy, the son of a widow. You would appear in front of him, playing with him, only to disappear when the mother showed up.

You were the boy's friend, playing with him when he seemed lonely, showing him small things that you could do with magic. The brightening of his face always made you smile. You took care of the people who lived in a small village, and more often than not, they would leave you sweets or food that they made on the windowsill, which you often snacked on.

While yokai could appear in front of humans, they mainly changed their appearances when doing so, which was the same for you, as you hid your tail and ears while chatting with the elderly. You were known to be somewhat mysterious, yet many were still welcoming towards you.

Your personality was different for a kitsune. While you did have some personality traits, it would have still been obvious to any yokai that you were different. It was that personality that made you leave the village just for moments to follow and protect your followers. The child that you grew to care for so much was leaving as his mother wanted to make money in the city.

It was not the first time you had gone to the city, having followed many of your followers before out of curiosity, now mainly out of worry over them as they aged with white hair while you stayed the same.

The two of them planned on going to the city nearest to the village, a place you often visited compared to other places. You followed them, thinking that you would only stay for a moment to see if they reached to the destination safely and found a place to sleep. After a week of travel, they and you stepped into the gates of the city.

Unknown to you, shared eyes watched you from afar, already having noticed your little visit to the city where those served him.

He was the same as you, a kitsune but born longer than you and worshiped by the whole city. Living in the tallest building of the city, canine eyes watched you from far away as he licked his lips. His nine tails swayed softly as if excited and somewhat expectant, seeing you finally come back after what he thought was so long.

It was only by chance that you two had met a few years ago. He was sure that you had already forgotten, but for him, it was just so difficult to forget such a cute lady. Back when he had changed himself into a civilian, he remembered bumping into a lady at a corner of a small shop. You were in disguise too back then, yet for someone as powerful as him, it was easy to identify that you were not human but a yokai kitsune like him. A quick apology and both of you were on your way. He thought he would forget the young kitsune.

Till he saw you again, this time without a disguise yet hidden in the eyes of the humans, watching some travelers, an old couple that wanted to sell their harvest. Your eyes were watching them, both fox ears trained towards them while your tail lightly swayed side to side. On top of the roof of a building you sat, yet you were elegant and sophisticated yet unexpectedly innocent. You were not like what he had expected, though this was his first time actually seeing you, he had his expectations over his own kind after living for hundreds of years.

A lot of kitsunes lacked care over humans, having more selfish desires and thoughts. They thrived off entertainment like mischievous pranks or lust. They were mainly self-centered and greedy, thinking only for themselves. He was the same when he was younger, but as he continued to live, a lot of those interests started to dwindle as he had gotten bored of doing the same thing over and over again.

Instead of focusing on his greed, he created a city of his own that worships the ground he steps on. He had everything in his hands, yet even that quickly grew boring.

He was bored out of his mind, wondering what other entertainment he should search for as he continued to stay in the land. He watched you silently follow the couple, hopping on the roofs of the buildings and making soft taps on the bricks roofs with your wooden slippers.

He didn't follow you and didn't see you again for a few months. He had already forgotten about you as he stared down into the buildings from high up in his tower. He was still bored even after some entertainment with other yokai, wondering what to do, when he saw you again entering the gates. Invisible to the naked eyes of humans, you followed another person who came to the village to trade. The Kitsune had figured out that you had come here following those who believed in you, as many yokai disappear when no humans believe they are real.

Yet he still couldn't make sense of your decisions. Many choose to make more followers and believers, leaving those who already believe, if not with a little scare if they felt generous. Yet you would go out of your way to watch the people who followed you. Truthfully, he would find it dreadful to even think about following a human. They live such slow, boring lives, and it would be painful for him, who craves entertainment, to watch over a person like that.

Yet his eyes would not leave you, picking up a grape from the bowl and tossing it into his mouth. There were many yokais that came here, a place packed with people. While they could stay as long as they didn't cause any huge problems, he personally didn't care much for what they did. The more he watched, the more he realized that he could not help but stare at your eyes. He had met quite a few kitsunes in the past, and many younger kitsunes most of the time didn't really know what they were doing, often showing in their eyes that they were without a goal, while others were mainly obsessed with material things or fame.

Your eyes were different. If he had to pick a word, it would be cute. Your eyes held so much affection towards your followers, caring and concern for their well-being. It was both amusing and entertaining to him that he could not help but watch.

Over the years, he would look forward to your visits. Your cautious eyes, when you finally noticed someone watching, made him excited as he watched you look left and right, wondering. He found your affection wanting, the attention you give towards those you like. He wanted your attention, wanting no more than to tease you some days, wondering how you would react if someone were to take away the people you give all your care to.

Yet his tails could not help but stop for a moment as he watched you. Your ears down nearer to your head while your tail was down, almost as if saddened. There was a smile on your face, still with affectionate eyes, yet they were mixed in with sadness. He could just stare at you, for the first time he had ever seen your face express another emotion other than what was normally seen. Your lovely face as you waved goodbye at the little boy who just for a moment looked back and saw you. The smile that spread on his face as he raised his hand to wave at you.

"Bye bye!!"

His mother had asked him who he was waving at, but the boy didn't answer, instead grinning at her.

As you watched them go, unable to follow them for fear you would not be able to leave if you did so, you stayed still for a moment. When you could not see them in the crowds of people, you took a step back and walked the opposite road, completely unaware of how lustful someone was looking at you.

He adored you. He adored you so much. His precious little tempting fox. Your little saddened face was just so delicious in his eyes, far more compared to your startled expression when you watched one of your older friends suddenly trip on a rock. It drove him insane how cute you were.

He had to have you. He would drag you back to his home and keep you with him like a little wife pet. Your innocence compared to his hundreds of years of knowledge would make it so easy to keep you in his arms, even if you tried to escape. Your crying face would be a delight to see. He wanted to see it. Nothing could get him more aroused than your own tears. He watched you leave, moving when he could not see you anymore, his heart beating like crazy as he continued to think about your lovely innocent expressions, all belonging to him. Touching his face with his cold hand, his long nails lightly digging into his cheeks, he felt how warm they were.

It was soon that you reached your village. The villagers greeted you with smiles on their faces as you tried to greet them back. But it seemed that your sadness may have showed when a grandmother patted you on the back. "There, there, child. You shouldn't be so sad." The grandmother explained that people come and go in the village due to its small inhabitance. "The little boy will remember you and come back one day. But for now, focus on the present. I heard from a friend that you don't have a lover yet! You are a very beautiful soul; you should be searching for one now! Otherwise, it will be too late to have a child of your own!"

“Have a little boy just like that kid, you could adore.”

The grandmother gave more words of comfort, even though you were older than her by a few years, and some of her words were a little much. Even if you were older, you could not help but flush at her words, causing her to laugh.

"Hahaha, you remind me so much of my old friend. We were friends at such a young age, yet she had to move away after I got married. Even she was someone easy to fluster like you." The grandmother told you with a wide smile on her face. "Unfortunately, it is quite difficult to keep in touch, so I don't know how she is doing now, but I hope she is doing well."

You couldn't help but smile at the old lady who was reminiscing about the past. "I think she is doing fine for herself," you said with confidence, which made the grandmother look at you in surprise but burst out laughing again. "She probably is. Probably found someone nice and living her life with 10 kids of her own and 20 grandkids." "I- I am not su-" "Nah, she is too pretty for her own good and has always been the type to care for others. I doubt that the man could not help but give a few more." The old woman cackled again at her own joke as she walked away, waving at you and stating that she had some rice cakes that you and her should eat.

It took some time, the lack of that boyish sound left a hole in your heart, but like any other time, you knew you would heal. Watching over the houses, you noticed some carts coming into the village. Fancy transport carriages; you thought there was someone important visiting here. You couldn't help but become curious as you stepped down to the grassy floor, changing to your disguise as you hid your ears and tail, and drew closer to the stopped carriage. Curiously looking at the servants talking with the mayor of the village, for what you could gather, they seemed to wish to stay here just for a few nights.

The mayor was unsure about the whole situation, as not only was this sudden due to how fancy the carriage was, he wasn't sure if the village had the means to serve the guest, but the servant reassured them that they don't need to do anything.

Walking up to one of the villagers, you asked what was going on. "Ehhh, just some rich man wanting to stay here for a while. Probably a break from traveling, but really it is just too sudden," an uncle answered your question, crossing his hands as he looked judgmentally at the cart when it suddenly opened.

From the cart walked out a very handsome man. Tall with a lean figure and a bit of muscle. He had a smile on his mouth as he walked toward the mayor. "Please do not worry about the service. I know we had come without any prior notice," his voice was deep and velvet as he continued to talk, his narrow eyes staring kindly at the mayor. Even with a smile on his face, there was something intimidating about him. You watched quietly, wondering if this was really okay, but without causing any trouble to anyone here, you couldn't do much.

Silently, you watched the mayor and the travelers go, the old man taking them away to a place where they could rest, leaving behind whispers between the people.

While most didn't care much for the arrived guest and his servants, many of the younger ladies were extremely excited when they saw his face. They talked among themselves about how handsome he was, wondered if he was married, and daydreamed about being picked up by such a man. You didn't care much for such topics. Turning on your heel, you left, deeming that there should not be any problem here. Planning on going back, you stopped and turned around, your eyes widening in caution.

You felt someone watching you.

You turned left and right, searching for them, wondering if it was a yokai that was looking at you, yet you could not find one that had a stare that made your back so heavy and raised the fur on your tail so badly. It wasn't the first time either. Many times you felt that stare when you were in the city, yet you never seemed to find the reason why or from whom it was coming. You thought that here you would not have to experience this, that in your safe haven, unlike the city, you would be able to avoid it.

But you could find nothing, and almost everyone except for the chatting girls was all gone, busy with their own days...

A day passed since those people came. You chose not to bother with them after sneaking in last night to check on them, wondering if they were really good people. As you watched them interact with the head in a kind manner, you decided to leave them be.

On your own, you chose to take on your human form as you watched the villagers care for the fields. Taking a seat on top of a branch of a tall tree in the mountain, you watched from afar. After the boy had left, you had become too bored, feeling solemn, mainly as the child who you were close to had to leave.

You knew that it was bound to happen, yet you could not help but miss the boy. The smaller yokais told you to just take the boy, take him away from the world and to the yokai one and keep him for yourself forever. But not once did you entertain that thought; the idea of taking the boy's life away was horrible in your eyes. His mother was also someone you held affection towards, a kind lady who had invited you to her home many times in the past, even when they barely had much to eat.

You wanted the little one to stay, but you also knew that you could not trap him, yet your heart was sad.

"Hello, there." Your tails and ears almost poofed into view at the voice, your body raising up from its relaxed position as you looked at the back. Under the tree on the side was a man alone, looking at you with a smile on his face. "Ah... sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that." He looked amused due to your reaction. You tilted your head in wonder as you looked at the man, recognizing him from yesterday as he and his entourage had chosen to stay in the village for a few days.

"Did I scare you?" He asked, raising a brow. You narrowed your eyes a little at him but chose to nod. It wasn't like you could even deny it. "Don't you know it is rude to creep up on someone like that?" Your voice a little snappish as you tried to contain your annoyance at the fact that your alone time had been taken away, and that you were also taken off guard.

Haha... Sorry, I will keep that in mind."

You examined him from head to toe, wearing a yukata and cleanly put, you could not help but stare at his face. His smile and his narrow eyes and sharp features made him look almost like a fox.

"What are you doing? Is the view from there nice?" he asked, and for a moment you thought about whether you should actually continue to talk to him. Not having the heart to decline as the man acted more from harmless mischievousness, you didn't push him away. Instead, you invited him up the tree.

He complimented the view of the place from the tree, stating that he mainly lived in the city, so it had been a long time since he last took the time to relax in the countryside. The topics you chatted between the two of you were mainly surface-level topics, nothing deep, yet hinting at reminiscing the past.

You almost felt seen by him. It was something hard to explain, yet because your lifespan was so much different than that of humans, there was a bit of a gap when it comes to understanding. They would never understand what you feel because they would never live that long.

You didn't count the time, yet as you noticed the sun now in a different position in the sky, you realized that you have been here for a few hours. "I must leave now," you told him, for it wasn't long until you have used a lot of your powers and need to change up.

A frown graced the lips of the man looked beautiful under the sunset. "Ah, that is such a shame. I was enjoying talking to you," he stated, and you could not help but feel the same. "How about we meet again here if you are not busy tomorrow?" He offered.

You looked at him, his smile still with its mischievousness, yet a hand reaching out as a kind gesture. You thought that it would be okay. The loneliness you had in your heart was stilled just for a moment after the boy and his mother left that you could not help it when your mouth and head moved, agreeing to meet him again here at the same time tomorrow.

You met him the next day, the same place. He was sitting on the same spot of the huge tree as he looked at you with a smile, offering tea. The rich flavor that coated your tongue was delicious. The man laughed at your face, teasing you when you asked him why he was laughing.

There was no tension in the air. Time flew too quickly when you became comfortable around him, able to open up your feelings when it usually takes a long time when it comes to others. Almost every day, you met him under that same tree.

"I see our young lady finally fell in love?" The grandmother chuckled when you choked on your tea at her words. Grinning like a cat when you looked embarrassed. "Finally, time you found someone who could take care of you."

"Please don't say that... we are mere... acquaintances," you said hesitantly, unable to call that person a friend nor anything more than that. The old lady laughed again, patting your shoulder. You knew that she understood your feelings but also wanted only the best for you.

"So we are acquaintances?" the voice was too low, too muffled to hear, even for your ears to hear as you glanced at him blinking. He laughed on the other side of the branch, stating that it was nothing.

"I am going to be leaving soon." His words made you snap your head at him, in shock, then realizing what you just did, tried to calm yourself. "Oh..." you said hesitantly, looking away from him. "That... that is unfortunate." You were a little saddened, to be honest, that he was leaving, but it was coming after all. The crew was only resting here and needed to leave at one point.

“Yeah..." He passed you a cup of tea that he had brought again to drink here. Taking the tea, you took a sip of it, yet the flavor wasn't as strong or vibrant as before, dulled by your own feelings as you watched the liquid ripple in your hands. "Some business that I need to get to," he told you as you took another sip of your tea, still feeling your throat parched.

"Oh..." You said again, unsure of what to say. He had told you that he was a merchant travelling and just happened to arrive here at some point.

"Hey..." his voice was hesitant, yet for a silent moment he took a deep breath. "Why... why don't you come with me?"

You looked at him, surprised by his words again. You saw how determined his eyes were as he looked at you. "Please... please come with me! I like you a lot, and I promise I will take care of you if you choose to follow me," the man said, leaning towards your branch with a hand on his heart. "I have a difficult time being around people sometimes outside things related to business, yet with you, I always have fun. You are kind and thoughtful, you care so much about the people here. It is heartwarming to listen. If you want me, I promise I will make you happy."

You leaned away, almost intimidated by his actions. "Huh...? What are you talking about?" You didn't understand at all what he was talking about.

"Please marry me," he told you, finally spilling the words after having a difficult time holding it in. "I will make you the happiest woman alive."

Staring at him and his proposal, you thought about the time for the past few days, the bond that you started to form with him. It was often that within a few days of knowing each other, people tend to marry here.

But words clogged your mouth, unable to leave. While you do treasure the time you spent with this man, the village that you lived in for much longer was still your priority because even if he did understand your feelings, the time you spent with people here had much more value to you.

"I-..." You wanted to decline. After all, you were also a kitsune, a different kind of species compared to him, a human. You wanted to say that when the world suddenly blurred. "I-..." You wanted to get the words out, but dizziness stopped you again.

You saw his eyes, the realization that you planned to reject him, you just needed to bring those words out. "That is…" You didn't know what happened, nor what had caused you to lose all your energy all of a sudden. When the world turned upside down, you felt the wind on your face as you fell from the branch.

How did you become like this?

You thought your sudden fall would hurt yet instead of reaching the grassy floor harshly, you were gently lowered into the arms of another. You tried to open your eyes, wondering who caught you, and saw a man with ears like yours holding you. He was far more handsome than the merchant, but had a more cunning look and a more wicked grin compared to the mischievous smile the merchant had.

You didn't know this person. Your eyes widened as you shoved him away, hopping away from his hold and distancing yourself from him. Your disguise cancelled away as you glared at the yokai, who was the same as you. When did he come so close? How did you not see him? Multiple questions went through your brain as you bared your claws at him. Counting his tails, you knew he was far stronger than you. If he was maybe a three-tail, maybe you would have a chance, but he was triple that.

“Who are you?” You demanded, wondering why he was in your territory.

“Got your little claws out, huh? I am hurt, dear, especially when we had so much fun together these past few days.” He raised his hands, showing that he meant no harm, but you didn't believe it at all, trying to stay away even as the thing in your system continued to cause you to be so tired. “I never met you,” you growled at him.

“Oh? How can you be so sure? I was right beside you, sitting on this tree this whole time.” He raised a brow, a mischievous grin on his lips that was too similar to a certain someone. Your eyes widened as you took a step back. How did you not notice? Why did you even let your guard down?

“You… you lied to me!?” you demanded an answer as the man shook his head, sighing as if your anger was nothing more than a child’s tantrums that he needed to care for. “You would not let me get close to you if I did show my real self,” he talked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You didn't understand why he did that. Why would a nine tail kitsune take such an interest in you that he would pull a prank like this? But it seems that he was able to read your mind, crossing his arms, his golden eyes watching you. “I have taken an interest in you, my dear. The many years that I watched you visit my place has always been a delight for me, that when you didn't come, I could not help but be a little upset. But it is okay, I will always forgive you.” He took a step closer to you, watching you as you continued to lose strength. “Yet to only watch for so long has its limits, don't you think? When you are so adorable skipping around my own turf, don't you think it would be difficult for me not to get my hands on you? I just thought that maybe you would prefer something romantic.”

“I am hurt, dear, that you would still deny me like that when I went through all that trouble. But it is okay, I will forgive after we fix your habits a little at my shrine.” You growled at him, refusing to follow him, pushing yourself to even stand at this point. “Now, now, you shouldn't push yourself too much. The tea was drugged a little, something I made just for you if you had chosen to be a little naughty. Nothing dangerous, I assure you. All you have to do is just relax, and I will take you home.”

You tried to make a run for it, but your powers were restricted, and when your leg caught your own, you fell to your back. You could not catch yourself, as your energy continued to be sucked away from you. You thought that you would hit the floor again when a pair of arms caught you again. “Tch, tch, my little kit is so weak and clumsy when she is tired, hmm?”

He laughed, golden fox eyes staring at you. You felt something furry touch your cheek, moving your hair away from your face. “Don't worry, dear. I will help you learn how to use your powers well, and you will now be mine and mine alone.”

You tried to move your body, tried to push him away, but it was as if weights were placed on your body, preventing you from moving even just a little. You tried to stay awake, to make sense of all this, yet nothing seemed to work as sleep slowly took you away.

“Don't worry, my dear little fox. You will be my lovely mate, and I will take care of you from now on, okay?”

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 month

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I feel like, Young!Pathetic!Konig would do REALLY well with a Older!Lady-Cougar!Reader, She's maybe been divorced twice and looking ta maybe become widowed this time? May-haps her current hubby has wealth and power but is a few screws short of being a good man towards our poor reader, and there's that Pesky prenup that makes it so she won't get ANYTHING in a divorce...buuuttt if the bastard has a bit of an....*Oopsie doodle*.... Maybe she's looking for someone to take care of her problem, and maybe she likes this young soldier boy, whose all too happy to help with *whatever needs* she might have? Likes how desperate he is for just her hand on his arm, likes how he's on his need begging for just a *taste* Likes that she can teach him how to please a woman, how to make her moan like no lover before....Likes how willing he is to kill the man she's married too...

Asfdf my brain short circuited ❤️ I know I said somewhere that I don’t write cheating but if it’s cheating a bad man with an even worse man König….

CW: 18+ MDNI. Age difference, F!dom/M!sub undertones, praise kink, cheating (your husband is an old dick), mating press & other shenanigans, murder & mentions of blood, König is a lovesick yandere in the making.

It was just one night.

Just one night to satiate your needs because your husband for sure never takes care of them.

But then the young pup you picked off from the pub pops into your workplace next week... With a large bouquet of flowers in his hand and a box of chocolate in the other, your desperate little “detour” looks like a boy who just got laid for the first time in his life.

“König…” you sigh and pull him to an empty breakroom before all your colleagues see you’ve cheated on your beloved husband with a man at least ten years younger than you.

“You can’t be here,” you start, trying to ignore the happy, greedy stares this little—big—soldier gives you.

He’s all the equal to his alias, looking like a king in the making with those wide shoulders and that fierce stare. But his hands are shaking, he guides those eyes to the floor as he puts the gifts on the table littered with crumbs and coffee stains, switches his weight from one foot to the other once you start to tell him how it is.

He listens dutifully as you try to explain how it was only one night, that he was incredibly lovely and you had so much fun but that you can’t see each other anymore. It was wrong of you to do so in the first place, you’re married, and you’re so, so sorry... You were just so sad and lonely.

You tell him he’s a good man. That he’ll find someone special, some lovely girl to call his own. He will find someone who can give him what he wants, someone who will cover him with kisses for bringing her flowers and sweets.

You try to explain it to him even as you get slowly chased into a corner, you try to tell him what a catch he is even when you get pinned to the wall by a hard, lean chest.

You try to tell him that he’s the perfect man for some other girl even when he pulls your strings aside and bullies his cock inside you.

One minute is all it takes as he huffs and groans and fucks you against the wall, your moans and his grunts barely muffled by shirts and fists and lips and skin. There’s lipstick on his clean, white shirt after he’s done with you, teeth marks where his shoulder meets his neck, a spittle of cum on your skirt as he pulls it down with shaky hands.

“Sorry,” he murmurs in your ear. “I just had to see you. I missed you so much...”

Your cunt is what he missed, any woman could see that. Got a taste of it last weekend and wouldn’t let you leave his place at all; a small, miserable flat of 25 square meters, with burned rice on the stove and a thin, cum-stained mattress on the floor. He fucked you on that mattress, four times because on the fifth attempt to part your shaking thighs, you told this horny lad you need to go home.

“I know, big boy. I missed you too. But you need to go now,” you say to your pretty lover. Ugly but pretty, in his own way, his utter lack of cruelty is what makes him beautiful in your eyes.

“I don’t want to,” he dares to argue back and claims your mouth, kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before.

“You have to,” you moan. “König–”

“I love you.”

You’re huffing, panting into each other’s throats as you realize he’s even younger than you thought. Fell in love with your cunt so easily, this big runt, thinks it’s meant to be just because you’re wet and he’s hard.

“Don’t be silly,” you huff and look at the drowsy smile, the messy state of this lovesick man before you fight your way out of his lap.

You want to cry, wail, scream from the injustice. Where was this silly young golden retriever six months ago? Why didn’t you meet him when you were single and sweet? Now you’re trapped in an unhappy marriage with some old fool who was cunning enough to trick you into a ludicrous deal with him. The prenupt you discovered only later, after he swore that you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life and that everything that belonged to him would be yours one day. In reality, you’ve had to beg for every crumb, act the part of a trophy wife who also has to work herself to death. And he won’t even fuck you, only wants you to massage his back and his cock while you’re left all alone without love, without a single kind word.

But König never lets you go: not in a way you beg him to, no, he always shows up at your door. Sneaks into your lonely room from the window, licks you to ruin while you laugh and tell him no, fucks you three times a night, crawls under the bed when a cleaning lady almost catches you two. He shows up at cafes, restaurants, conferences, parties, everywhere where you go but your husband won’t.

He’s so reckless that you have to teach him to be more patient, more gentle. You guide his fingers and his head, even his cock, while locking your eyes with his so that he knows when he’s doing it right. You praise him for a good, unhurried fuck, cup his face and kiss him when he gives it to you nice and slow. Anyone can see he'd want to ram it in until there’s nothing left of him and you, but you kiss and kiss and kiss him until the poor boy moans and cums without permission, just from that tiny taste of intimacy and love.

He gets pets, smooches and caresses, blowjobs that leave him shaking and breathless on the bed. He looks like he has no brains left after you’re done with him, looks a little helpless when you climb on top of him and help yourself with his cock after he only just came.

He’s always up in no time, especially if you tell him he did well. Stares at you and your breasts like you’re a vision from heaven, drools on them once when you won’t let him have a lick. Mopes when you laugh at his predicament, and won’t stop brooding even when you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he’s never mad at you for long, not if you call him sweetie or your silly apple crumb, not if you let him fall asleep in your bed, partly on top of you. There’s always a wet spot on your back if he’s the big spoon, he begs you to sleep naked as he does, says it’s better for your health and then teases you with his fingers come morning, probably thinking he’s so very clever. Takes you to the theater and offers you expensive port wine and cake, tells you how to steal a car, how to shoot any gun. Gives you a hungry kiss in public when you tell him he has to act like he’s your cousin from abroad, vanishes for weeks to his training, sends letters instead of texts, and tells you he’s going to be a big boss someday.

It’s hard to imagine this serious but silly mess as an intimidating officer, not even when you know he has the size and looks for it. He’s too innocent and needy, doesn't know how the real world works yet. Thinks he’s immortal just because he’s young...

There’s a certain darkness in him, and you mistake it for the remnants of some turbulence of his teenage years, just some wrath of a boy who never got what he wanted. Who wouldn’t be a little pissed and impatient in their twenties? He probably doesn’t even know what he wants: hell, you don’t know what you want.

“Like this...?” He asks demurely when he lifts your knees to your ears and sinks his cock into you inch by inch, carefully as if it’s the first time you’re making love.

“Just like that,” you whisper as he spreads you so wide you can’t even breathe, fills you up deliciously, like no one else before. His eyes never leave you, not even when he uses your hole as a place to bury himself and all his bad memories, not even when he makes you squirt like you’re nothing but an oasis in a desert that never ends.

But you know he comes to you for other things than just that.

He comes to you for kind words, breathy praise, soft touches and ruffles of his hair. He comes to you for practice and to get his sense of self in order. He’s your pretty knight in shining armor when others have called him ugly, he’s your strong bull when others have ridiculed his disproportionate limbs. He’s your safe haven, your sunshine, your crazy, silly man, your soldier and your savior, and he soaks up your love and attention like a sponge: every drop gets gulped down like he’s a man dying of thirst. He doesn’t take sips, he doesn’t know how to, and you on the other hand don’t know how to quench the raging drought inside him, long after yours has been satiated.

You sleep like Romeo and Juliet just before their death, and fuck like rabbits in the spring. He takes you in the car, in the closet, in the toilet, in other people’s beds, even at the alley one night.

“I love you,” he always says after he has spilled his cum – it’s like a ritual or a prayer, and you always reach for the baby hairs of his neck in return, and give them the gentlest caress.

“I love you too,” you whisper one night – it just slips when you stroke his cheek. It never comes as a surprise that he gives you the most miserable pair of puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

He knows about your situation, knows enough that you’re trapped and unhappy. But you never knew he saw you as a victim. If anything, you feel like he’s the victim here. Poor boy, saving what little he has for a future with some woman who knows nothing about true love... You’re not the one for him, you’re not even a silly little sex kitten any young soldier would want to play with. You’re just some bored, abandoned wife who wants to feel something, mean something to someone. But you love him enough to know that you’ll let him go when he wants to move on. As bitter as it makes you feel, you know you’ll give him to someone younger and more beautiful, someone who will love as passionately as he does. Anything to make him truly happy.

But the next evening, König doesn’t climb in through your window. He uses the door, the inside door, and you jump from the bed and hurry to him in your nightgown, the only gift your husband ever gave you.

“I killed him for you,” he says, your soldier boy from Austria, your good, good boy with a good, big cock.

You only now see that his hands are stained in blood, and nothing shakes anymore: your wannabe sniper is as calm as ever when he confesses he’s murdered someone.

“...What?”

He comes to you and cups your face, the blood on his hands both wet and cold. You’ve never seen him so peaceful, not even after he’s had a good fuck. The boy who no one ever loved has turned into a man, but what kind of man… You shiver in his clutch, unsure if you’re about to suffer a heart attack from fear or love.

“He didn’t suffer... Much,” he says, his cracked lips only a breath away from yours. “Knives can be messy…”

You gulp while staring into the deep, dark abyss of his eyes, the innocent baby blue nearly swallowed by the darkest of all loves.

This is not how you thought things would go… You were supposed to give the old man the finger and divorce during the summer. Put your finances in order so that you can escape. Maybe fuck König on the side and see if he’s still the man of your dreams once you’re happily divorced.

Now he’s telling you you’ll marry as soon as possible, or that if you want a summer wedding, he can wait a few months… He tells you you have nothing to worry about, he won’t go to jail, not this time. He’ll take care of you now; he just got promoted. You don’t ever have to be sad again.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he says when all words have finally escaped you. “Now we can be together. Forever…”

#könig x reader #d/s dynamic #sub könig is fine with me if he tries to top from the bottom or becomes totally unhinged in order to prove his love ^^#he's a switch he just doesn't know it

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 4 months

Note

You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

#sorry it took so long #yandere #yandere x reader #gn reader #genderbent #yandere king #yandere prince #love triangle #strong reader #cw blo0d #cw death

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pynkgothicka · 10 months

Text

ＤＥＡＴＨＪＪＫ

Synopsis - After your husband passes, your therapist gives you a new opportunity to be with him. (Part one of The Monster Series.)

Pairing - Yandere! Dark! Android! Jeon Jungkook x Widower! Fem! Reader

Featuring - Steven Yuen

Tags and Warnings - Violence, Death, Yelling

Authors Note - One down 5 more to go

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

“Ma'am, he's not coming back.”

You stared in shock at the body on the side of the road. Your husband was laying dead a bullet wound in his chest and you couldn't do anything about it.

“Kook…. No…. Kook….”

The cop there had to physically drag you away. You crying and sobbing as you watched him get dragged away.

But that was a long time ago.

Sitting down in your therapists office had you in a daze, your mind on a constant loop of that night. Hands covering your tear stained eyes. “Miss Jeon, his death was over a year ago. Yet you can't seem to get past it. Why is that?” Your therapist commented as she sat in the chair in front of you.

“I miss him, he was my life. Jeon Jungkook was my everything.” You said looking down at your lap. “I sit in the house he saved up to buy for us and I'm just surrounded by him.”

“He was taken when you needed him most…”

“You know this… Why are you asking me this?” You say looking at her with a aggravated look on your face.

Your therapist let out a sigh before reaching into her desk. He then handed you a card. On the front read DEATH.

Deceased

Electric

Android

Therapeutic

Humanoid

“Take it. You need it. Call the number on the back and they'll set everything up.”

🤖

That's what led you to sitting in a random office. You came about 30 minutes before after setting up a appointment.

The entire building had this futuristic build to it. Every light had a light neon blue glow to them. And almost everything was automated through technology. Outside the large glass window and saw all sorts of people with androids in general. It was kind of creepy yet sad knowing what the company was for.

“Hello Mrs. Jeon. I heard about your situation.” You were pulled out of your gaze as a man in a sleek white lab coat walked in. His name tag read, Lead Scientist Mr. Yuen. “It's quiet, sad really. Having your husband taken from you at such a crucial part of the relationship.” He walked to sit behind the desk in front of you.

“Yes, so… what exactly do you guys do?” You ask trying to pull away from the topic of your husbands demise.

“Well,” He pulls out a hard drive, written on the front in sharpie the letters JJK. “This is your husband's entire consciousness. We'd gotten access to your husband's brain. Your lucky he was a organ donor.”

You could feel tears prick your eyes. Your husband was right there.

He was so close.

“We take this and put it into a android. That android is as close to a human as we could get it. Even the skin feels realistic. Height, weight, even a replica of all that junk down there. Practically a one to one ratio.” Mr. Yuen chuckles. “And this will cost nothing as our company is pretty new. We really just need people to say what we offer works.”

You were desperate. You do care anymore, it was something. You nodded as Mr Yuen smiled and placed a stack of paperwork in front of you. “He'll be ready for you in a few hours.”

🤖

You sat in a lounge area waiting patiently. You looked mindlessly through a magazine, trying to be as level headed as possible.

“Mrs Jeon!”

Your head shot up at the sound of your name being called. It took you a bit to stand up but when you did you were in shock.

There he stood.

The love of your life.

Jeon Jungkook.

“Baby?”

His voice sounded exactly the same. It was him. Your mind was clouded at being reunited with him, and all you could do was cry and run towards him. You hugged him, and you could feel him hug you back. His strength showed as he nearly crushed you.

“Okay okay you have to let go!” You said giggling. Jungkook did, him looking at you with nothing but love and adoration. You looked at the side of his forehead seeing a blue ring of light.

It reminded you of what this actually was. And how this wasn't actually him…

“It doesn't have to be there…” Jungkook said looking at your eyes on the led light. You watched in bewilderment as his skin tone covered the blue circular ring. “Is that better?”

You nod mindlessly as you take Jungkooks cheeks in your hands to kiss him.

It was quick but needed.

Even his lips were just as soft as Jungkooks.

Mr. Yuen stood off to the side and when he felt it was needed walked up to you to shake your hand.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you Mrs Jeon. If you have any issues please do call.”

🤖

Things started to go wrong almost a week into bringing him home. You were seated on the couch with him, going through a old photo album. You were pointing out memories the both of you had, trying to see if he had the memories of your lost love.

And he was struggling.

“Kook, baby… you don't remember this?” You said pointing towards your first date. He'd taken you to go to a book store. But He just stared at it trying to process what he saw but he just couldn't.

“I'm sorry. I can't… I don't remember.” Jungkook said putting his head into his hands. “I-I’m so sorry.” It sounded as if he was crying, which was something you didn't even know he could do. Then again he is supposed to be the closest thing to a human.

With a shakey hand you patted his back trying to comfort him. Then your wrapped your arms around him, kissing the side of his face. “It's okay. Trust me we'll get through this one step at a time. I should be apologizing, I tried forcing way too much onto you.” You say kissing the top of his head once again.

“I don't get it… I don't fucking get it.” He growled the grip on his head getting harsher. He then reeled his head back and slammed it into the coffee table. You quickly grab his shoulders to pull him back.

“Kook! Kook! Stop!” You yelled as he struggled against you, trying to punish himself. He then seemingly stopped, artificial tears cascading down his face.

“What happened…?” He asked looking at you with those same soft eyes you fell for.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

🤖

You spend about a month with your new android husband, his mood changes still existing. But you looked past them, and instead just tried to work with him.

Like now you two were on a date and Jungkook was a gentleman and his usual playful self.

“Honestly I like eating. It's something about all those textures in your mouth that just make the experience!” Jungkook stated describing eating as if it was the best thing in the world. But all you could do was laugh at his antics. You wish you had that much joy for living.

Jungkook stared at you dumbfounded. “What's so funny?” He said beginning to laugh with you.

“Your just, so amused by seemingly little things. It's kind of funny.” You reply smiling. This was almost reminiscent of how you and your actual husband were. That was until the waiter cam around for about the 5th time that night. Jungkook would get more angry by the minute anytime he was around. Like now, as Jungkook stopped laughing and side eyed the waiter as he passed the drinks. As soon as he left you spoke up, “Kook, baby you have to calm down.”

“I'm calm. He just needs to leave us alone.” He seethes under his breath.

Then the waiter returns.

And Jungkook shoots up, grabs his arm and begins to yell at him. “Leave us the fuck alone!” People gasp as the waiter groans out. “Man you're bruising me!” The waiter says trying to prey Jungkook off. You get up and grab his shoulder.

“Let go! Let go now!” You yell and Jungkook almost immediately retracts his grasp. Your left embarrassed, and finally state that this is the last straw as you leave in a hurry.

🤖

“Hi I was told to call this number if I something was wrong with my product.” You stood outside on the porch of your house.

“Ma'am. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do.” The receptionist replies. Your face furrows as you raise your voice.

“What? There's obviously something wrong, my husband has never acted this way. I need to talk Dr Yuen. Please!” You practically begged.

“Ma'am. DEATH company has ceased to exist. Too many bugs, and you seem to have one. I say either get rid of the product or live with it. Good day.” Then the phone hangs up.

The first option was out of the question.

You couldn't see him die again.

But you didn't know how much longer you could live with the android. His mood swings become more and more drastic every day.

With a heavy head and heart you walked back in, bumping into Jungkooks hard chest.

“You think something is wrong with me.” He said solemnly.

“Kook baby, no… you're just… I think….” You couldn't even muster up a excuse for him. “It's just that… your not… my husband…”

You tried to walk past him but he moved in your way. “I'm not? Then why do I have all these thoughts? Why do I consistently feel plagued by him?” He spat at you. You moved to one side and quickly went the other way around him. “My mind is filled with you! His thoughts about you … I'm him!”

“Calm down… Please! I'm- I didn't mean what I said!” You beg putting your hands up as a act of defense. Jungkook seethed grabbing at his hair. He moved it forcibly.

“Is it this?” He yelled showing the led ring on the side of his skull. “Is it the fact that your “husband” wasn't a robotic freak!” You quickly love your footing falling onto the carpet. You felt a sharp pain in your arm as your forced to drag yourself away.

In fear, you watched as Jungkook took to a nearby mirror throwing it to the ground. You screamed as glass shot near him everywhere. He picked up a sizeable piece and took it to the side of his head. “I can change… I will change…” He then began to cut at the piece, all the while stepping towards you. He yanked it out throwing the circle to the side.

Jungkook now stood over you.

“Am I like him now? Am I your perfect husband….” He taunted. You shake your head no as you cried beneath his form. He just smiled. “Your lying… and in denial. Look at that arm… you broke it. All because you tried to get away from me.”

“Your…. you're not my husband. Your a monster.” You said with finality. The pain in your arm made your vision spotty.

“No baby… I'm your love. And I'm not leaving anytime soon.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63

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lady-ashfade · 11 months

Text

The Crows and prey.

Six of crows x Bunny!Fem!Reader. (Bunny hybrid) [Romantic]

Plot: Ketterdam was in a bad storm and the crow get locked in at the club together for the rest of the night. It takes one of them to spot something outside and then the rest follow, and they go to figure it out. Ready to fight, ready to kill. But they soon realize there is no threat.

Previous. [] Next.

Readers appreciate: Female, I thought of a shorter reader but any body type can be used. (But I think bunny hybrids would be short, if you’re tall just imagine) The readers ears are white, because it’s easy and I think they are freaking adorable. And with darker skin tones they will be beautiful and pop out. That the only thing that is said.

Warnings: Abuse, reader being abused, being slaved and sold, blood, wounds, gaslighting, future dark yandere tendencies, possessiveness, and obsession. I wanna make this serious kinda dark, but nothing to bad, but they probably will be medium-hard yandere’s.

Tagglist: @igakc @babyblue-chaos @aqueennia

Btw: This took to long, so bare with me for the mistakes and spelling shit- I just needed to get this posted.

The small tapping on the widows as the droplets of rain hit the glass, the silence around the bar made it easy for them to hear it hit the walls from the outside. It was a very angry rainy night, people left early to get home while they still could. The group was forced to stay here for the night and couldn’t get back to their shared house, so they took comfort knowing they could be together still.

“The saints must be upset.” Jesper commented and raised his finger that rested on his cup. Inej looked at him and raised a brow and gave him a look, he just smiled and muttered his apologize. The thunder roared through the city and they could feel it sometimes, it was one hell of a storm outside.

The wind whistling through the small cracks of the door, “We could play a game?” Nina smirked and leaned forward with a mischievous smile on her lips. “Might as well do something fun.” She looked around the table at their eyes. Kaz looked annoyed and didn’t give in, he wasn’t doing some foolish.

“What do you have in mind?” Wylan asked and snuggled into his boyfriends chest and took a sip of his tea. “Charades? Two truths and a lie, or swords and shields.” She named off some games to see if they liked the sound of any of them. The table broke out with the crew, except kaz, with their own ideas.

Kaz looked away from his friends and looked out the window that was almost pitch black, he watched the water collect and rush together. Something moved across the widow and blocked the small incoming light, then disappeared to the direction of the door. His chest clinched and he stood up right away, everyone stopped and looked at him. He had a scowl on his face, different then his calm one.

He glared at the door and looked at them for a second then back to gesturing something, Nina was the first to pick up. She took a second and focused on the heartbeats she could hear, one more then usual. Nina nodded and they all stood up quietly, Jesper slowly moved towards his guns, Nina put her hands together. Inej was getting herself ready for anything, wylan looked around and saw the butter knife and grabbed it, knowing he could kill someone’s with it. Nina looked at mattias who placed a hand on her shoulder, as if this could go wrong. But he was ready, they all were.

Inej walked in front of all of them and quietly moved along the wooden floor towards the door, she was the one to open it. She grips a knife as she slug open the door ready to face the person, but her eyes found nothing but the road being rained on. A split second later she heard a noise and turned to the side, her hand blocking herself.

“I’m sorry..” a quite voice said from down on the floor, the deck roof stopped the rain from hitting them both. Inej looked down and saw someone leaning down in a cloak and couldn’t see their face, but their voice was soft and scared. Jesper came quickly and pointed his guns to make sure to get his point across, but he stopped when Inej placed a hand on his guns and pushed them down.

“Are you alright?” Inej asked and inched closer, you moved back and held your side to get away. “Please don’t hurt me- I’ll leave.” You groaned and held onto the railing to help yourself up. Nina could hear the slowly heartbeat, but it spiked up when you saw them. Clearly you were hurt. “I have no interest in hurting you.” Inej put her knife away and kaz glared at her, she was letting her guard down.

Kaz stepped through the door and eyed you up and down. No one could see your face, it was dark and your hood hugged your face closely. He did notice the hand that stuck to your side and he could see red staining your hand. “There’s a healer down the street, this isn’t a place for you.” Kaz earned everyone’s glare.

“Kaz.” Inej looked at him with begging eyes, also angry at him for being cruel. You understand and didn’t want to be there anymore, the people around you were too many. The man dressed in all black with the cane was giving you bad vibes, he scared you.

You fell back a bit and hissed in pain, you moved your feet up and took a step. Your body threatened to collapse but you pushed passed it, this wasn’t the first time you had been in this situation. But for the first time you weren’t back at your home- Or the place you were sold to and it was never a place you called home. “Sorry to disturb you.” They watched you carefully step down the wet steps and hold the railing tightly to keep you up.

Jesper looked back at kaz, Nina glared at the man, wylan was heartbroken, Matthias stared in pity, Inej knew how it felt to be like you. Hurt and clearly no where to go. Kaz felt their glazes on him and didn’t want to give in. He wasn’t going to offer a helping hand because then someone might mistake them for kind people. Then every injured lowlife would come seeking shelter.

But when he looked into Inej’s eyes, the frown in her brows and searched for the answer she wanted. “Fine.” He rolled his eyes and walked back inside for them to deal with it. As you made the final step you were stopped, “We can help you.” Your skin felt the rain again and you shivered. You didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll be fine,” you spoke through shaking teeth from the cold. “You’re clearly hurt, and it’s hell out here.” Jesper took a step and you backed up and your foot hit the mud. They all stopped because they saw how frightened you were, and they asked themselves why you were so skittish. Inej knew- Or could have a guess.

“You can come in, take a breath and have a roof over your head for the night. We have supplies for you to fix yourself, we don’t even have to be near you.” You looked at her for a minute at the soft tone in her voice and the small smile on her face, along with the rest looking at you so soft.

You picked yourself up the stairs, “Can someone help me in?” You trusted them enough because even if this was a trap, you needed help. Nina smiled and made her way down to you and held her arm out, you took it and she helps you up and into the bar. They all followed after you both, kaz was sitting at the table and his eyes feel on you again.

The light of the candles lit up the room and as close as Nina was she could see your face clearly now. Her heart stopped, a bloody and bruised face. She couldn’t explain it but you were as beautiful as a blooming flower, but seeing you like this filled her with rage. Why? She just meet you but she felt this pull towards you.

“Inej, come with me and let’s get her cleaned up.” They took you into the back and the boys were left feeling a bit lonely as they saw you disappear. A tug at their hearts had them as confused as Nina. “The supplies are coming out of all of your paychecks.” Kaz mumbled and took a swing of his whiskey, the others rolled their eyes and went to sit down at the table to wait it out.

In the back room they made and place for you to sit, Inej got all the supplies you needed and placed them on the table. Nina looked around and made a bed for you on the floor, with blankets and pillows she could find. “Do you want us to leave?” Inej asked and you looked up at her and she saw your face. Inej’s stomach dropped and she wondered who did that to you?

“I-” you whimpered out in pain and leaned back and pulled the stuff closer to you. For a slight second your sleeves rises up and Inej caught a glimpse, a familiar sick feeling caught in her throat. “I shall be fine with it.” You wanted them to leave so you could get all your wounds, you needed to take off your hood. Inej sighed in disappointment but she understood, she whistled for Nina to come over.

“Yell if you need anything.” Nina shouted as they both walked out of them room. You got to work on your side first, the deepest wound you had. This was the first time your owner had truly hurt you, or this bad anyway. He wasn’t happy when you fought back, so he got angry along with his booze which lead to where you are now.

“Is she alright?” Jesper asked as the ladies walked out. Nina shrugged and went over to the bar were kaz sat and poured herself a drink, matthias got up to be beside her. “She’s hurt pretty bad.” Inej spoke and pulled out one of her blades and played with it as she glared at the ground.

Kaz looked at her and recognized the look on her face, one she got when she was mad or overthinking something from her past. “She’s marked.” She stated and everyone turned their head to listen to her. “The menagerie?” Wylan asked and stood up.

“No, I haven’t seen this marking before. I don’t know what it’s from- Or if it’s the same, but it’s in the same place.” Inej pointed to where her marking once was. “That’s why you wanted to help her?” Kaz asked.

Inej glared at him, “No. I helped because it’s the right thing to do.” Her tone made it known she was getting annoyed, something she didn’t do often, or showed.

Behind the closed door the extra pair of ears hung down the side of your head, once fluffy white fur was coated with dirt and blood. Cuts along them hurt almost worse the the slash on your hip. You couldn’t help but overhear their conversation even if the ears were ringing, it made you a little panicked.

Slowly you applied some medicine on the cuts on your ears and they twitched in pain, you whimpering at the sting. You rushed the cleaning process on your hip and then the bandage that you wrapped around yourself. You filled your pockets with some of the supplies and got up and looked at the window. You pull your hood out and tied the bands on the back of your head to make it stay.

You unlocked the widows and quietly opened it up, looking down at the ground under thinking of you could handle the small drop. This was for the best, if they knew the symbol on your wrist they could take you back. You had finally gotten out after years of trying and you weren’t going back.

“Where are you going?”

You jumped around at the voice of the girl from earlier. She wore red and had light skin, brown hair and a nice smile. A big man stood next to her…He looked rough and scary but at the same time kinda soft.

“Thank you for the help, I will pay you back.” Nina took a step forward and smiled wide at you. “No silly, you stay here for the night. You must be scared, and we don’t want to hurt you. You’re owned by someone. Yes? Maybe the one who hurt you?” She was strangely right and that made you a bit scared.

“If you go out there they might find you, take you back. This is the safest place for you.” The younger looking man stepped through the door and his eyes fell on you as Nina spoke. “You don’t want that do you, sweetie?” Her voice was smooth but they hit you hard.

She knew her manipulation would work, of course it did. Fear was powerful, but so easy to control.

You looked out the window at the puddles splash, you sighed and closed it shut the glass, you looked at them apologetically. “I’ll stay here tonight.” They all hummed and gave you smiles, some more bigger then others but still smiles more the less. “Get you some rest dear, we will leave you to it.” Nina said and pulled the big man out the door.

The pale small one stayed for a minute and looked at you and you squirmed a bit under his gaze. “My names Wylan.” You blinked and played with your hands. “Hello, wylan.” His body tingles as you speak his name, as if he craves it more. He stayed for a minute to learn your name but you didn’t seem to want that. So he smiled at you one last night and left you be.

You looked at the clothes they left for you and you decided to put them on because you were going to get sick if you didn’t. But you kept your hood on as you laid down on the bed they had made you. You found it comforting, it was like the nest you had back there. But this was wasn’t as bad, you liked it well.

So you snuggle up into the blankets and moved the pillow underneath your head and let your body finally get some rest. Hoping when you’d wake up, you’d still be here.

Kaz stared at you as your face stayed calm and still. He found it almost cute how you looked- So pretty and adorable, but the cuts on your skin made him feel a certain way. Kaz found himself staring at you for a while, it was his turn and he was forced to do so. But he was glad he did because he needed to have a look at you and figure you out.

Body stirring to the side he saw your eyes clinch before opening them. The light was brighter then the day before, the sun came out of the clouds that once blocked it. He saw the light hit your face and it was almost heavenly to him, and your eyes he finally got to see their color. In the moment, new waves took him under and made him feel overwhelmed.

It was strange to him, but he pushed aside the urge to protect you and touch you in that moment. “Hello, sunshine.” His voice laced with sarcasm. You turned your head and groaned at the pain your side, “Um, hello.” You rubbed your eyes to see clearly.

You gasped as your wrist felt something cold and sharp, his cane brought its way up and pulled your hand closer. “What is this?” He asked and pointed to the ink in your skin. You swallowed and pulled your hand back and held it close for your chest. “You clearly know what it is.” He raised a brow and tilted his head.

“Let me rephrase,” you watch him lean down a bit and your heart begin to beat faster. He looked threatening. “Who do you belong to?” You bite your lip and looked away from him and tried not to tear up at the memories. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Kaz chuckled and smirked, “That marking means you do, but to who? Never seen that one before.” You pushed yourself up and leaned on the wall facing him. “You want to take me back?” He saw the fear in your eyes as you asked that question. That made him never want to give you back, not that he would in the first place.

“Not at the moment, no. My crows wouldn’t be too pleased.” His words confused you. Kaz felt his heart squeeze as you moved your head, it was like some sort of confused animal. Adorable. “Crows? Like the birds?” It was his turn to be puzzled for a second. You didn’t know dirtyhands and his crows? The wraith, sharper, demolitions expert, heartrender and her boyfriend, and him? The bastard of the barrel.

“My crew, the ones that took you in. Went against my wishes just for you.” He pointed out and you nodded in understanding. “Your name?” You asked. He felt his chest grow with a feeling at how your eyes looked at him. So beautiful. Then the soft voice that sounded like heaven to his ears. “Call me kaz.” You made a note of his name. Kaz went on to tell you all of their names, it was making you head spin to put faces to them but you got it soon enough.

“Tell me..” he raised a brow, he didn’t even know your name. “Y/n, that’s all I remember.” You shrugged and gave him a soft smile. Kaz looked down at your wrist and glared at the skin covered up. “Tell me, y/n” the name tasted like flowers in his mouth, “Who is the person who put the mark on your skin, give me something. We can keep you safe here, but you have to talk.” Your heart dropped and he saw the look in your eyes as they got wider. Sadness laced behind your eyes and it angered him slightly, someone so soft spoken as you was probably scared into acting that way.

As the thoughts run in your hears your breath begins to pick up and chest going up at down at a fast pace. Your eyes look over the room at everything and your hands grip the sheets. “You can’t- I need to go.” You gripped onto the windowsill above you and tried to bring yourself up, but the pain in your side and body made you fall back. Kaz watched with fear, you couldn’t leave-

No, no you had to stay.

He thought for a minute of what to say and how to bring you out of this panic state. It was painful for him to watch. Then he saw something drip down the side of your head, it coming from underneath your hood, and then to your far cheek. “You’re bleeding.” He pointed a finger and you only shot up. You didn’t feel the pain grow because you were to focus on your mind, the cuts on your ears must have busted open again. You let out a whimper and place your hand on the second pair of ears on your head.

“Take off the hood.” Kaz motioned with his hands. But you didn’t want to because then he would know what you were. And he could end up like the rest of them.

“No, I can take care of it. Just leave me for a few.” You blinked up at him and gave him a small but weak smile. Had he ever seen you without the hood? You slept with it on, you didn’t want to part with it. He found that intriguing.

“Take off the hood, it’s not a option. You’re hurt and you clearly didn’t take care of it the first time and it’s on your head. Do you want to lose the blood going to your brain?” You shook your head.

“If I take it off you’ll turn out like him! And I will not be sold again..” you shouted and he saw the emotion in your eyes, “Never again.” Your soft tone returned and broke.

“Inej would have my head if I sold you.” You glared at him and bit and showed you were in no mood for his comments. “I promise to not sell you out. You have a place now, you’ll work for me to pay your debts. But my crew and I will let no harm come to you.”

If you could just stand up fully without falling you would be out of the door by now and send money later. You wanted freedom but somehow this didn’t feel like it, but you had no other option. Sighing you nodded your head and untied the knot behind the hoodie to loosen it. It felt like a million years for kaz, you had about ten things keeping it in place. Then the fabric was finally pulled off your head.

The white fur with old blood and new blood splatter over it, he saw the flesh under the cuts, the dirt mixed with the blood on the fur. It was silent for a few minutes as he stared at the top of your head with a unreadable expression. He was surprised, what were you? He couldn’t believe his eyes, it was like saints all over again. But where you are.

But what were you? It was making his head spin, he had no knowledge about this.

In front of him, small and hurt. Adorable face and body, a cute nose he just noticed and beautiful ears- If they weren’t hurt. “Saints.” He cursed under his breath and you didn’t know if he was mad or what. Biting your lips a bit you took a deep breath and waited for him to say something else. But you knew the confusion he was facing and it would take him some time.

“What the fuck.”

You both looked back and see Jesper hanging on the doorframe with Nina by his side with her jaw dropped. You shifted in your seat and covered yourself up and didn’t care about the pain in your ears.

It wasn’t going to be a secret anymore.

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

Text

"O Capo! My Capo!" (Yandere Mafia!Cyno, Tignari, and Alhaitham/Reader)

A/n: This township is turning into a real clownship– I definitely do NOT dedicate this to my irl friends, ya jerks /j.

Unreliable Synopsis: The Innamorati Familia might have lost almost everything, but their Capo stands tall. Just how long will you survive under 3 pairs of scrutinizing eyes? (Mafia!au. Visions do not exist.)

CW: yandere, (some) religious themes, possible major character deaths, mentions of recreational drugs, guns, etc.

YOUR CHOICES MATTER. YOU CAN VOTE FOR WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.

Next Chapter

—---

[Year 192X]

"(Y/n)!!!"

At first, you were convinced you were living the Khaenri'ahn Dream. With your youthful yet crime-greased hands, you have fought hard to earn your keep as the Innamorati's current Capo– to earn yourself a family for yours to protect inside Teyvat's ruthless underworld. And family you did keep. Until candles waned like silenced hostages. Until a conspiracy pursued what little faith in humanity you had left.

Until you held your underboss' charred face and lifeless body. Until his sizzling arm burned your hand. Until flakes of Dimitri's skin powdered your fingers like charcoal pencil shavings.

The Innamorati Headquarters burned. And so too did most of your men.

"(Y/n)! Stand back– Think about your men! Would they want you to do this?! You won't save anyone there– not like this!!!"

Looking back, the Khaenri'ahn Dream lied. There was no joy in hustling but you did live an empty yet freeing life. Khaenri'ah preached about humanity and its opportune happiness, yet spoke none about how fleeting it could be once the curtains caught fire. Perhaps that very notion fooled you into believing that your idyllic lifestyle won't be snatched away easily.

The ghosts of those who perished in the manor's basement have sought their final repose on the embers that incinerated your endeavors.

Everything was terribly loud. Many people fled into the murky haze. The square was virtually deserted as people fled for their lives, but you refused to leave. This trait used to be a quality that helped you survive the syndicate, but those damn fascist conspirators turned it against you.

Tartaglia pulled you close.

"VAFFANCULO, TARTAGLIA– LET ME FUCKING GO!"

"NOT UNTIL YOU CALM THE FUCK DOWN!!!"

You stilled, and a single heavy tear left your eye.

This is more than a mite unfair. Everything you labored for, every drop of blood you shed, every vice you committed, what was it all for? Visconti Diluc was right. You're a liar and a murderer undeserving of joy. Maybe this was the retribution he ranted aimlessly about.

You took fast and drastic measures in your rise to the top, and your opponents rightfully did the same to pull you back down.

Tartaglia watched as you writhe in agony knowing that you couldn't escape from his restrictive embrace. He never thought he'd see you appear more pathetic than when Pulcinella first picked you off the streets. Nonetheless, he felt your pain. You both led groups under the same parent organization. You are family.

To him, this was worse than accompanying his widowed sibling to their spouse's funeral.

"… My men, they're…"

You fell into deep thought.

Lyudochka, Kazari, Teppei, Viktor…

You gritted your teeth.

Viktor…

That damn brat didn't even get his chance to shift jobs… That brat still hadn't left this hellhole…

Based on the Khaenri'ahn Dream, all citizens must have an equal opportunity to achieve success through determination and pure grit…

You bit your lip down, drawing blood. In truth, you can't discern whether or not the blood came from your lips or your throat.

"DAMN IT."

Your white-knuckled hand shakily punched your thigh, feeling morbidly powerless.

Viktor said he wouldn't allow himself to die as a lowly servant…

What happened to those dreams now…?

You were so close. You were so close to taking all those fascists down. So why now?!

Tartaglia frowned. He had never seen you act like this– your anger is usually impulsive, but sharp and silent. Your fury simmers until you slice the catalyst open. Never come a time you lashed out like a feral animal as you do now.

"GET IT TOGETHER!!!"

Tartaglia shot you a piercing stare as he slapped you, and you finally reigned yourself in.

This is too pitiful.

Fire surrounded everyone, but you remained frozen by your own dialed-up emotions.

Slowly, he trusted that he could let you go.

"... Ekaterina, send in our men. We'll try to extinguish this mess as much as we can."

"Of course Capo, right away."

You held back your sobs as your knees fell to the floor, where your right-hand man's corpse lay as if he did not struggle in his miserable death.

The last time you talked to him, you called him a worthless coward who couldn't make choices without you. Pain seared through your chest. No one wants that to be their last conversation with their closest confidant.

A bloodcurdling scream rang out across the square, but you scarcely moved from your seat. You're too numb to notice who was behind that familiar voice. It was just another body that couldn't be mourned.

Your eyes focused on Dimitri's corpse instead.

You were planning to apologize after you cleared your head this morning, but what use are words to those who have already left this world? He's gone.

Fallen, cold and dead.

This is by no means the first time you've seen your men die– you had some of the deceased's blood wet your Sunday clothes– but you hope this unforgettable foul scent of burned flesh will be the last time you'll breathe it in. You're already acclimated to the metallic stench of blood; you don't need to ingrain this into your mind as well.

You passed out.

It was only when you closed your mouth did you realize, it was you who cried your lungs out the whole time.

—-----

The church bells rang.

It was 10 AM, and the mass was inching to a close but the priest passionately ignored the echoes of the bell and the mafiasos' groans.

"Is it too early to booze?" Tartaglia whispered in your ear. His yawning proved that he was bored to tears. You did your best in stopping your eyes from rolling.

Unlike Tartaglia, your aura exudes dignity, something he needed the most. When you two sit together, you both appear akin to a comedy act. The usually bloodthirsty Tartaglia transforms into a guileless little brother and your all-forgiving eyes turn endearingly annoyed when paired together. The same scenario was applied this morning.

"Tartaglia, look around you. Does this look like the right time?" You vaguely gestured at the ongoing sermon, not meeting his gaze.

"Geez. Why do we even bother with this?"

"Because even though we are nothing but lowly sinners, we must honor our Tsaritsa's benevolence."

There are 6 Archons revered by the church, and they correspond to six different regions and cities inside the nation of Teyvat. You're an immigrant from outside the country– an agnostic nation– but you're smart enough to pay respects.

"Right, right. I guess even if I asked that ten more times you'd still reply with a generic answer."

You passive-aggressively whispered back. "Maybe if your questions were worth my time I'd elaborate on my answers as well."

"Capo–"

You and Tartaglia turned around. The Fatui mob, one of yours who just got there, nervously sat up straight.

"Capo (Y/n)."

Tartaglia sank back to the pews, no longer caring. The second capo's lack of attention eased the grunt's audience-based apprehension. Their sheer trust in your credibility made you smirk. While you seemed cold, everyone in Snezhnaya knew you weren't.

You recalled how back then these words sounded alien to you but these terms are salient in the scenes. Having recruited predominantly Snezhnayan workers, you had to get used to their way of living. You wanted to foster good interpersonal relationships with your men, and there's no better approach to reach their hearts than religion in the 1920s. And by the looks of it, they seem to trust your carefully crafted sterling reputation.

You always do your job as if you're running out of time, and they put your faith in you like a farmer would a fleeting summer. With some effort, everyone was convinced they'd fall apart without your guidance.

The grunt looked at you with respect.

"Boss Dimitri delivered one very confidential info."

"I see…" You steadied yourself. "Excuse me then, Tar–"

He snatched your sleeve. Tartaglia considered removing your iconic stovepipe hat, but you don't wear it to church. He opted for the second most annoying choice.

"Hey, you can't leave me here. Don't I have every right to be in the know? Gaaahh, cut me some slack. We've practically been siblings for more than half a decade now, (Y/n). Can't you tell your fratello anything?"

"Why are you interested?"

"Cause I'm curious if it's finally time that your familia will collaborate with other factions for once."

You shook your head and sat back down. He's right.

Three major criminal organizations control the small nation of Teyvat, namely the Fatui, Akademiya, and the Adepti. You and Tartaglia are Capos or Harbingers of the former, which had the most control of Snezhnaya.

Based on your history, you don't mingle with other organizations outside Snezhnaya a lot. You had dealings with Ningguang and the Qixing before, but never their parent organization overseas which resides in Liyue.

It just so happens that Tartaglia is bolder than you are. The kid has his headquarters stationed in another province, Liyue. That province isn't far from his hometown since Teyvat is a small country but he complains like a confederate soldier. Most of what Tartaglia talks your ear out is about missing home despite finding fuses of excitement in Liyue enticing anyways. You've heard many stories from him regarding how ruthless Adepti's Prime leader, Morax, is, but that's not your problem.

The Akademiya, however, keeps to themselves. You know close to nothing about them. Snezhnaya may be the heart of trades, but the Fatui cannot tap into Sumeru's supply of canned knowledge. And you quite frankly don't give a shit about what they do. They're not the best at masking their spies.

"Speak."

"Capo, the underboss wanted to inform you that he had already figured out who the mole is."

"Oh?" You and Tartaglia spoke simultaneously.

You'd been looking for a spy among your ranks for quite some time. This mysterious mole was sending information back to Focalor, the self-proclaimed Hydro Archon better known as "Il Duce" around these parts. The braggart with a God complex promised the public that she'll drive mafiosos out of Teyvat, and she's working everyone to the bone for it. Politicians either play yes men or get on your nerves. She's the latter.

Nevertheless, you did not expect Dimitri to deliver results that fast. Bitterly, you thought about how apologizing for him later would look less genuine now that he proved himself worthy. You didn't mean to call your underboss useless– you just couldn't control your temper.

May the Archons forgive your transgressions.

You hope he'd forgive you once you get back.

"... Carry on, Felix."

"Yes, of course. The fascist conspirator is Professor Tighnari, the informant."

You snapped your head back to meet the grunt's face, bewildered.

"... What?"

"FIRE!!! THE PLAZA IS ON FIRE!!!"

One of the church's orphans– Barbara– was screaming by the door, frantically stripped of breath and her chords sounded hoarse, unlike her singing. Her weak legs barely counted as a support for her body as she toppled on the marble tiles. The groceries she carried splashed down, and some fruits rolled in your direction. Your people helped her stand up while some picked up her things for her, but the poor thing shivered like a leaf.

Barbara had always been a sister to you. Having been separated from your family at a young age as well, you two link like two peas in a pod. She relied on you like a quiet strong big sister while you protected her and the other children from street conflicts.

You stood up and calmly patted her shoulder, squeezing lightly. You gave her a gentle smile.

"My dear Barbara– take deep breaths."

She yanked your chest.

"Capo!"

Barbara began to tear up.

"It's your mansion, Capo!!! YOUR MANSION IS ON FIRE!!!"

—-------

You jolted up drenched in cold sweat.

"You're awake…"

You don't know whose voice you were expecting, but that voice was intuitively not one of them. The barren room you woke up in wasn't yours, and it's certainly not Tartaglia's manor. Considering the unfortunate events that just took place, it's foolish to think you'd wake up inside the safety of your manor. Instinctively, you reached for your holster and found it empty.

The man stepped into the light. You have a hunch on who this was. He wore a black-purple stole, vest, and strap combination, an attire you'd often see on a Sunday, yet donned a shabby brown hat on top of his silky white locks.

The stranger stared at you blankly.

"You're a disciple." You claimed.

Aside from the three mafia organizations, the Church had the superior upper hand when it came to crowd control. Nothing moves Teyvat's heart like guides and philosophies. That being said, the Church isn't afraid to get its hands filthy. They are fully aware that conversation will not solve all problems, and there is an unsaid fact that their relationship with the Fatui is far from antagonistic.

And as Capo, you're one of their most devoted patrons. The organization you belong to is filled with devotees, and have often carried out whatever mission the church wishes. Honestly, you think that the Church's fondness for the Fatui should already be a telltale sign that the Archons are nothing more than a statue made of ice.

But you shouldn't think this way. It's peculiar– romantic, even– that what saved you from the fire was your near half-hearted devotion to attending Sunday masses. To be honest, you attend partly because you want to dress to the nines. You don't know how to feel about that.

Their Holiness saved you from the embers, you can atone for your sins by suffering. And that's what this stranger is here for.

"That's correct." He said. "I work for the Sumeru Church. I was instructed to look after you until they help you renovate your manor and the panetteria beside it. That is, of course, assuming you still pass the requirements of being Innamorati's Capo."

This person did not bother easing you into things, and instead bluntly reminded you that your house and men– your home is gone.

You breathed in shakily.

Dimitri is gone…

"...You have my gratitude."

On the bright side, at least your go-to place for lunch will be back after a while. That is if Signorina Xiangling survived and the church won't abandon you.

"Don't worry, we flame to please. I'm sure our architect Kaveh was stoked to receive such a large-scale commission."

…

"I'm sorry– were you joking at a time like this?"

"Was it not funny? Hah. I think it's hysterical. Oh, would you like for me to explain it?" He didn't ask in a patronizing tone, he spoke as if you didn't have the mental capacity to know what a joke is. Which was honestly more insulting.

You didn't laugh, and he didn't apologize.

You've heard about how church officials have a clear lack in the humor department before, but you didn't take into account that they may very well be this socially inept. Which is rich, coming from you. Your transgressions weigh more than a bad joke executed at a funeral.

With a mastered poker face, you pretended that his slights did not affect you.

He extended his arm out for a handshake.

"Cyno, the former Aaru Village priest. I now work as an inquisitor." Cyno coughed, cheeks turning slightly red. "I didn't change your clothes i-in case you find it uncomfortable."

Sounds like he finds it uncomfortable instead.

His behavior perfectly lines up with his claims. The way he dressed alone encapsulates the aura of a man who used to devote himself to holy sanctums. Some minor details made it clear he's no longer part of the main clergy– that being his choker and numerous ear piercings.

You took his hand. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm (Y/n), the Innamorati Familia's Cap–"

You cringed.

"I'm… I'm just (Y/n)."

"Humble, just (Y/n)." Cyno nodded solemnly.

"No, not humble. Defeated."

"I know."

…

"Feel free to cry. I won't pass judgment over people expressing normal human emotions."

You laughed humorlessly. "Sure you won't."

Cyno grabbed the plate on the table and passed it on. "Calzone?"

You scoffed.

Admittedly, the food looked appetizing and its rich fragrance made your stomach perceive its emptiness. You trust the church, but no. Your pride would kill you for chewing food down with abandon. The only person you could eat savagely with was Barbara, and Lord knows how the poor girl is holding up. Thankfully your stomach didn't make any noise despite the pain of hunger being a treacherous one.

"I guess not." He awkwardly put it back down.

You inspected your clothes. Your once proud Prussian blue polo shirt reeked of ashes and sundered threads. Still, in a bit of a daze, you squinted.

"... Where's my coat?"

Cyno's gaze sharpened.

"I disposed of it." He spat. "You should be more alert. Someone planted a recording device on your person."

Cyno spoke in a tone that implied he knew who this person was personally, and you're inclined to think the same. You bit your bottom lip at your own seemingly minuscule mistake, opening a minor wound.

"Cazzo."

It's possible that Tighnari was the one to plant it. You let him hold your coat for a moment when you changed into your Sunday attire. That audacity of that fucking bastard.

He must've set the bomb off when he heard Nicola.

"Testa di cazzo– quel fottuto figlio di puttana." You cursed lowly.

Professor Tighnari. That man will soon find his skin flayed and draped on the walls of your basement chambers once it's rebuilt.

You'll kill everyone that fox ever loved.

You'll find his family and wave their heads on a pike right in front of his chained weeping face. You'll claw the skin off their faces and rip their fingernails and limbs apart–

"(Y/n)?"

You can no longer comprehend your emotions. Inside, you are a cacophony of both forced indifference and uncontrollable spite– a contradictory pair yet one that matches how you felt towards the loss of your men and the professor's betrayal.

Slowly but surely, you saw red.

Not expecting that you would stand up, Cyno pushed you back to bed. He looked both worried yet unimpressed by your foul mouth.

"You're not supposed to leave yet."

You tried to gently pry him off, not wanting to offend the church's lackeys, but he was stronger than expected. Cyno planted you back down on the mattress. His left hand was beside your head and his face hovered above yours.

This irritated you.

You don't have much time left.

He continued. "Tomorrow, you work. Today, you rest up. Your people are with Capo Tartaglia and they're not going anywhere. If you need anything– food, water– anything at all, be sure to ring the bell. My ears are sharp. Remember, the Military Police are tailing you and the last of your men."

The Military Police? So it's Focalor's people, huh? That damn governor just won't let up, won't she? If you had nothing left to lose you would've painted her office wall with her brain matter, pronto. But you still have some reasons to continue living.

The last of your men…

Hah. Of course. You have to live for those that survived. After all, if you weren't an incompetent fucking boss you'd still have everyone in one piece.

You're so sick of this.

"May I ask who exactly reached out to help? I doubt the church would waste church funds on a low-ranked Fatui Capo such as myself."

The inquisitor averted his gaze, his brows furrowed. Cyno hid his face behind his hand, murmuring the response meekly. You don't have the best hearing—the sounds of gunshots were bound to dull your senses—and you imagined he gave a monosyllabic response.

"...e."

"My apologies, mind repeating that?"

Cyno stiffened.

"You don't need to know who. What matters is that you're safe now, and an official willingly went through signing paperwork for your manor."

"And based on your tone of voice, I assume that that official is you."

He turned his head indignantly.

"Believe what you want to believe."

Cyno's reply was a telltale sign that this conversation will go nowhere. You sighed.

"... I don't need food, but do you have cigars?"

He scrunched his nose.

"No wonder your breath smells awful nowadays." He muttered before pulling away.

Despite his insulting observation, he pulled out a box of Cuban cigars from his pocket. Quite hypocritical that he complained about bad breath when he had some too. He lit up your cigar.

"Thanks, but last time I checked this was our first time meeting." You have no particular opinion on Cohiba's cigars but this is the best you'll get at the moment. Beggars can't be choosers. "Thanks again."

Cyno ignored you both times and he was already by the door. "Please rest up. I've left some calzone, water, painkillers, and tissues for you on the table. Try not to leave the vicinity."

He exited the room.

You closed your eyes as your hand reached for your bleeding mouth. You're relatively unscathed from the incident, which means Cyno knows something about your "condition."

You chuckled.

Painkillers and tissues, huh? There's no better cure than that, and your time would run out before the world would find a better one.

—----

Cigars were not enough.

Inquisitor Cyno likely already knew that he can't keep you here for much longer, but he didn't do anything when you escaped. He did say "try not to leave" and not "do not leave", didn't he?

Cyno claimed his ears are sharp– so you guess he just didn't care at all.

As a result, you left your room and went for a walk around the neighborhood. That doesn't mean you can leave Sumeru City, but a stroll is always pleasant. The room Cyno offered was neither spacious nor cramped, but if you started digging holes in their ugly wallpaper, you doubt the church would take it lightly.

You staggered out of the chapel and entered the slums, reminding yourself that Dimitri is dead. You need to find someone worthy enough to become the next underboss. The church will not recognize you as the Capo without one, therefore they won't help rebuild the manor should you fail this task.

Hungry and out of breath, you leaned against the unscrubbed walls of an abandoned antique store, arms folded, taking in your surroundings. You were exhausted, arms sprawled against the wall.

The people behaved too jaded to be Natlan yet too reserved to be Snezhnaya– hence, you safely assumed that you were in the Avidya-Rainforest district. This place, despite lack of funds, was still under the church's watchful eye. A holy sanctum of sorts. This meant dealings are prohibited and no one would want to be caught with a glint in their eyes.

It's fascinating how much their cultures differ for a country as small as Teyvat. The same cannot be said for Khaenri'ah. Your compatriots have only known a capitalistic grind in search of an unattainable dream. A money-obsessed country does little to preserve its customs and culture. And you were the same empty machine till La Signora took you in.

You yawned while covering your mouth, appearing vulnerable.

But of course, you didn't charge into an unknown location unarmed. You knocked out one of the Inquisitor's soldiers and seized his pistol. "For security reasons", you'd argue. Once again, Cyno likely knew about that but didn't bother acting, again. You're too tired to judge his work approach, and you could barely keep your eyes open.

Till you caught a sliver of green pass you by.

"Oh! You smell funny. Are you the Capo, (Y/n) (L/n)?"

You lazily looked up.

"Umm, hello?"

You gazed down.

It's a kid. Hunger is starting to take its toll on you as you mistook her high pitch voice for an adult your size. The child, around age 5, had green hair and scraped knees.

You're certain that she wouldn't snitch about how you left your room unguarded.

"Need something?"

"Yeah, um, I just wanna say my condolences."

You ruffled her hair. "Thanks, bambini."

She beamed.

Sadly, the kid must've mistaken this as a go signal for her to continue talking. She balled her hand into a fist and nervously cheered for you.

"I-It'll be alright, Capo. You can always make new friends! I believe in you!"

"Hmm."

"I never thought I'd ever be able to make friends but I did last month! I also met my master that time and maybe I can share some of my good luck with you!"

"Hmm."

"Are… Are you listening?"

"J-Just a little fatigued." You stifled a yawn. "Why don't you play along with your new friends, little…"

"Oh, right! I'm Collei!"

"Little Collei." You coughed, and you skillfully wiped the blood away without her knowing. "Bambini, you shouldn't talk to people like me, it's dangerous. Why don't you run along and go back to your friends now?"

"Well, I can't yet because he told me not to because he's busy right now."

"Who told you that?"

Collei smiled widely.

"Professor Tighnari!"

You froze, slowly recalling your resolve.

It felt like the world froze for a brief moment as if the few people in the vicinity halted for you to catch up on what the little girl confessed.

"...Tighnari?"

"Hmm, hmm!"

"And you're close to him?" You muttered.

You'll kill everyone that fox ever loved.

Your fingers subconsciously slithered to your holster.

That's what you decided moments prior.

You glared down menacingly.

"Capo…?"

But a kid?

"... Is something wrong?"

You turned your apathetic gaze back at her. You're not even sure just how much this child meant to Tighnari. She might as well just be as insignificant as a pebble on a shore. But–

The gun you stole from the church guards is with you. It's light in your hands.

The light in your eyes dimmed.

"Hello?"

It has three bullets loaded.

There are only 2 other people outside the streets, both of which are teenage civilians. Taking her out would be as easy as–

"Hey, please cheer up!!!"

The child shook you, dragging you out of your trance. Little Collei appeared distressed because of your lack of reactions. You blinked a couple of times, making yourself mentally present, before pinching your forehead. Her lips are curled downward and her eyes match her cute frown, and you were grimly reminded of what you had tried to commit.

You cursed under your breath.

You're disappointed in yourself.

This is a child. A child of the church, no less. She likely had nothing to do with whatever it is Tighnari had planned.

"You're thinking of sad thoughts too, aren't you? Don't do that! You'll only feel bad–"

"Bambini."

"Yes?"

"How many friends do you have?"

"Oh. I have two!"

She cheerfully raised three fingers.

"I have two friends! Amber and Tighnari!!!"

Because of her clear enthusiasm, you refrained from correcting her hand. Instead, you patted her head with a heavy conscience.

But are you wrong for thinking this way?

An eye for an eye…

You knelt at her height.

Your strained smile reached her ignorant eyes. "That sounds wonderful. I have– I had two best friends too. Can I be your third friend?"

"Really?!"

"Of course. I think optimistic people like you are reeaaally cool!" You lied between your teeth.

And one kid's death won't satisfy a worthy tribute for your fallen men. One child is not enough.

You need to find more just like her.

"Hehe, thank you! But Amber's the coolest! I want to be like big sis Amber when I grow up!"

"Is that so? Well– I hope to hear more from you as you grow older. I'm sure you'll be the girl you always wanted to be, and I'd like to be your friend as you get there."

Collei awed.

"W-Wow, thank you! I've never gotten a compliment like that before too…"

The child never saw the sadness in your eyes, or maybe she mistook it as fondness. You continued patting her head as she melts in your touch. Fakely, you gave her a big smile.

"Then let's get to know each other." You grabbed her hands. "Why don't you show me around town, fratella?"

You can't kill this girl yet.

She nodded eagerly.

Not until you find out just how much this child means to Tighnari.

Besides, you didn't miss the flash of purple in the alleyways. Cyno was observing you from afar. You can't make haste.

You grabbed her hand.

You'll get your revenge, someday but not today, even if it arrives at your dying breath.

—----

Someone else is watching you. A second stalker.

It's not paranoia born out of the tragedy that occurred yesterday, but a fact.

As you were greeted by an angry Candace (Cyno's coworker) who gave you a firm yet fruitless sermon about leaving the parameters, you heard the bushes rattle by the gardens. You offhandedly mentioned it to her, and it placated her fury.

Candace agreed that she heard it as well, and she promises to take care of it as soon as you go back to confinement– "your room." Collei awkwardly bid you farewell and you promised you'll see her again in a few days. She probably thought that you were her new troublesome sibling. And speaking of troublesome…

Snatching the small glimpse of metal from the table, you pivoted your heels.

"You can't hide from me."

Masterfully, you hurled a butterknife and it landed just a few centimeters above the trespasser. He grunted almost inaudibly. Had you been any less precise that aim would've killed him, but the man had the guts to trust that you wouldn't be so foolish and kill him off without a proper interrogation. It's one of many reasons Tartaglia envies your dexterity and wit.

You glared. This man wore dark clothing yet his luminescent akasha terminal betrays any hope for a successful undercover mission. The stranger promptly calculated his response as you grabbed your remaining utensils. This time, you had a sharper blade in your arsenal.

"Speak."

"My name is Alhaitham. I'm an Akademiyan spy."

No shit. He's wearing an akasha terminal. What else could he be but a pain in the neck?

You laughed sardonically. "Oh my, a bold one, are we? Think you can take me down just because of my manor?"

"I'm not here to fight you– I'm here with a proposal, (Y/n)."

And he had the nerve not to address you as Capo.

The stranger didn't see you throw a fork in his direction until he heard the metal ring beside his ear. Some strands of his hair got caught between the points, yet he feigned an unphased disposition.

"Get out."

"Alhaitham" didn't listen. He knew you'd insist until you could drag his cold dead body into the garbage chute for Wednesday's pickup. So what did he do?

State his proposal anyways.

"I want to become Innamorati's next underboss."

Your grip on the knife loosened slightly. Alhaitham watched your serious face loosen up, but not in the reaction he hoped for. Instead, you laughed at him.

Him? Replacing Dimitri? Hilarious.

"Now that's comedy! What made you think I'll hire you? I don't know your face but I know your name."

You proudly grabbed a glass and poured yourself the wine Cyno bought that you previously insisted on not drinking.

"Ahh, this should be entertaining. Alhaitham– the Akademiya's slaved accountant. Maybe I would've taken you in if you didn't reveal that you're a spy. Would've enjoyed dragging you around till you're drained like hell. You know, if you already told me that you're here to spy on me you might as well spill who ordered you to do so."

"Khajeh." He replied immediately.

You drank half a glass. "Hah! Figured. Barely ran into any scholars but that old man is as nosy and obnoxious as they come."

"In addition, he gave me permission to try and apply as your next underboss."

"Keyword here is try."

"The Akademiya had been spying on you for a long time–"

"I know. I'm not dumb enough not to notice your men skulking around. They're practically built like an elementary school's skeletal model." You clicked your tongue.

"–But if you take me, I am at your full disposal. I will work simultaneously for the Akademiya and you, so I'd let you in on canned knowledge trades. I'm not as weak as the others. I've been a member of multiple training corps with exceptional gra–"

He stopped abruptly when you placed your glass down. It's empty.

Alhaitham met your gaze and silently noted your unamused expression.

You have never once tried getting into any supply of canned knowledge, but that doesn't mean you'd dive into this shady business after the opportunity presents itself pronto. You've seen how Dottore handles his wares, and you know how it functions similarly to heroin.

You're not letting your men go through the same addiction as you had before.

"Are you done?" You cut him off, clearly aware that he barely started with his fluffs. Realizing that all he had done was brag, he changed topics immediately.

"I know a lot of things about you, Capo." Alhaitham's lips quivered for a brief moment. "I'd dare say I found all the dirt I could find."

"Is that so…" You replied, rather uninterested. These buzzwords have always been around since the day you became Capo, not once had they piqued your interest.

"You killed La Signora to inherit her title. You announced that she died bravely against Khaenri'ahn soldiers, but it was you whom she dueled with– and now you have her authority and more."

You laughed, once again sounding wholly bored.

"Should've known Akademiyan freaks like you are into conspiracy theories." You replied in an attempt to seem like you care. You're not sure if it worked.

"You neither confirmed nor denied my statement."

Cause he's half-wrong. You're not a brute. If you want something done, then it must be swift. There's no way you could've won a match against your old Capo, everyone would agree with that.

It's much easier to kill her in her sleep and frame your fellow countryman's fault for everything.

"Do you need me to?"

There was no need for you to tell him that this information is useless. Many similar-sounding theories had spread during the first few months of acting as Innamorati's new Capo. Snezhnayans are very strict when it comes to blood relations, and they're not easily convinced when you told them that it was Rosalyne's final wish to instate you as their new leader.

It was partly thanks to Viktor that the familia grew to welcome you in. He had an apparent dislike for the old capo and when you promised he'd be off guard duties his mouth started rambling. Viktor's not one to shy away from leaking the information you puppeteered him to say. You've ensured many methodologies to spread a positive campaign about you, and people began naturally supporting your cause.

All done with minimum effort.

You smiled at him sweetly. Should Alhaitham attack your reputation, you have no doubt you have the capabilities in mending it quickly despite your situation. You're loved by the Church and most importantly the masses. Now that many of your men have passed, the public would view you as a staggering symbol of mourning. Poor (Y/n).

Alhaitham didn't react. Instead, his expression dimmed, more solemn this time.

"That's just the appetizer."

He continued.

"The truth is, you barely have 2 years left to live because of Eleazar, isn't that right, (N/n)? That's why you always act like you're running out of time."

Your eyes widened.

Now he's not half wrong. That's the whole truth.

You laughed again.

"Is that your best attempt at a death threat? Don't have specialized canned knowledge to teach you when to shut the fuck up?"

"I'd be happy to let you know that I'm not the only one who has conducted some… research, Capo." He digressed and walked closer. "Inquisitor Cyno, Professor Tighnari, and I know about it. It's quite a well-kept secret, really. You ought to be thankful."

Alhaitham pulled out a tissue from his pockets.

You squinted and paused.

Oh, no wonder. So that's how he came up with that conclusion.

"You've been coughing up blood way before you joined the mafia– and it's a miracle that no one noticed your weak constitution. None except the three of us, I mean." He continued. "I had someone from our forensics team inspect this, and I'm not surprised to hear that it's from you rather than your enemies."

"Then why."

"Why?"

"Why haven't you leaked this yet? Isn't this a good thing for you Akademiyans?"

Alhaitham smirked.

"I believe I should be the one to govern my actions– why else would I stalk these dilapidated rooftops?"

"Then how long have you known?"

"Trust me, the three of us knew longer than you'd imagine. I knew about your secret ever since you sold matchsticks for a living."

Your eyebrows furrowed.

"That was five years ago…"

"So? Doesn't change that you've been diagnosed for well over six years."

"I was barely anyone back then– I was just a beggar hustling on the streets– why make such an idiotic claim?" You rolled your eyes. "I've heard enough. Leave, while I still allow it."

Alhaitham's face softened.

"So you don't remember me…"

He handed you the tissue, and you reluctantly accepted it.

As your hands met, Alhaitham pulled you close to his chest. His face looked down on you, smug and condescending.

Alhaitham caressed your cheek, and then your lips. You flushed at the sudden contact and quickly tilted your dagger near his neck.

He whispered into your ear.

"What a delicate flower you are, tesoro. But I will not lie, you're far from youthful– you're wilting, and I loathe watching this all unfold from afar any longer."

The Akademiyan gently pushed your dagger away and kissed your wrist. Your eyes sharpened, hastily aiming for his neck but he swiftly changed trajectory. He knew this was just a reminder that he could die in your hands if you will it. Alhaitham is not blind. He saw the way you curved your hand at the last second to prevent a lethal blow.

He stood a few feet away, no longer at arm's length. Alhaitham pushed the curtains aside with one foot already out the window.

"I'll meet you again here, 6 AM sharp. Tell me whatever it is that you decide then." He said before confidently adding "I look forward to working with you soon, (N/n)."

In the same fashion he entered, he left the room quietly. Deciding that you don't care enough to watch him leave the premises, you locked the windows shut.

You sighed, exhausted, and pulled the curtains closed.

Life won't let you catch a break…

Now, what's your schedule for tomorrow?

—------

Note: this is an interactive fic! The underlined word will lead you to a google forms link to decide what happens in the next chapter! Have fun voting!!!

Deadline: October 20, 2022 October 16, 2020

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thisisarcanereverie · 11 months

Note

May i request a Yandere Moonknight System with a reader who’s like visiting London on work or something and they meet one of the boys. over their stay they get close as the boys show them around London and they sort of ignore the fact reader eventually has to leave untill they tell the boys they’re leaving the next day and they snap and take reader. Idk if that makes sense. 🤍

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader)

A/N: This is Part 1 of a 3 Part fic. This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

You weren’t sure what it was about London, maybe it was the almost constant cloud looming over the city-or perhaps it was the way you barely understood what the people around you were saying- but you didn’t get what all the hype was about. Yes, it was beautiful if you put a filter over it looking at it through a tourist’s perspective. However, looking past all the buzz and touristy wonder, it was just like every other city- gray, busy, and foul smelling–filled to the brim with more people than it could possibly provide for. The only difference was the currency and the fact that everyone sounded like they came out of either Downtown Abbey or Derby Girls.

You sighed as you reminded yourself that you were only going to be stuck here for another year, until this identity expired, then you got to go somewhere else, maybe somewhere warm and remote. Though you doubt it, that’s the thing about being on the run–you don’t get to choose where you go. You’ve been running close to 8 years now, almost a decade. Ever since Natasha Romanoff sent the Red Room hurdling from the sky and freed every Widow in the process, including you. How you got here exactly was a very long story, with parts you would rather not relive.

You looked out the window of the bus, filled with thoughts of nothing but warm places with lots of sun and color with next to no people around. You could probably stay there longer than usual, hell maybe forever if you were careful. You could feel a small smile gracing your features as you thought of a nice, quaint home; decorated with plants, a nice kitchen to practice cooking in–oh and a sunroom that doubled as a greenhouse of sorts. You started making a list of flowers you would like to grow when you felt a sudden, foreign weight on your shoulder. You turned your head away from the silver light of the window towards the dark mess of curls next to you. You recognize him almost immediately, you don’t know his name but he always got off at that museum you’ve been meaning to visit, he always looked so tired with dark almost bruise like circles under his eyes; his dark hair almost in a permanent state of unkempt. You looked at his face a bit longer before your eyes trailed to his hands, his knuckles were white with how harshly he was gripping his bag and sweat was starting to form on his brow. A nightmare. You got those as well.

As gently as you could you shook him, it didn’t take much until he bolted upright and took a few very sharp breaths. You could see his eyes dart erratically in fear before finally settling on you, you couldn’t help but remark on the lovely shade of brown his eyes were. A moment or two passed by before his eyes met the ground and his cheeks flushed.

“I’m so sorry” he hurriedly apologized, eyes still trained on the ground, “didn’t realize I nodded off there.”

“It’s quite alright,” you assured smiling gently at him, “if you don’t mind me asking but do you suffer from nightmares often?” his eyes went from the ground back at you, “I don’t mean to pry it’s just that I’ve seen you a few times on here and you always look exhausted.”

“Yeah um,” he cleared his throat, “I, uh, I would guess so– not that I can’t tell the difference– it’s just complicated to explain–not that I wouldn’t tell you if I could, it’s just the best way I can explain it and I probably sound like such a knob.” You hold in a slight chuckle as his cheeks flush even more.

“I don’t think so,” you say, “I get those kinds of dreams often as well. The ones you feel like they belong to someone else…but not at the same time, I guess it really is difficult to explain out loud.” you hold out your hand and introduce yourself as the man beside you hesitantly accepts it.

“Steven Grant.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

That was almost a year ago, after introducing yourselves you gave him your number (which he called not even an hour after he got off the bus). At first you would just meet up for tea but tea quickly became more intimate. You would call each other during the nights that were the hardest to sleep or to dream. You would tell him about your hope to live somewhere remote one day, in a place full of sunshine and color and he would be silent and listen. It wasn’t long until he confided in you about his condition, and you met Marc Spector and Jake Lockely respectively.

You weren’t sure why but when Marc appeared he seemed familiar, for a moment you wondered if you had met him at some point but you were sure that you would’ve remembered. The Red Room forced you to have a good memory after all.

Jake on the other hand was completely different from Steven and Marc, where Steven was shy and Marc stiff, Jake was suave. He had kissed your hand and said dirty things to you in spanish, to which you surprised him by replying fluently and dirtier.

After some time you grew comfortable with Marc and Jake and went on dates with them as well. For a while you were happy, first time ever since coming to London. You were practically living in Steven’s small flat and you spent your days living as a normal person would. You pretended not to notice the weird things, like them leaving in the middle of the night or the strange looks they would sometimes get looking at absolutely nothing. You never pried or judged, it wasn’t like you aired out all the skeletons in your closet either. You never told them your real name (or at least the name the Red Room gave you) or where you came from or basically anything of substance at all about your past. You didn’t want to, it wasn’t like you didn’t trust them, but you feared what would happen if you did tell them. Tell them your real name, that you used to be a Black Widow and killed people. That the reason why you hated the color red was because it reminded you of the Red Room and the blood that stained your hands, how your nightmares were memories and that ghosts that haunted you refused to die.

Somewhere along the way you started to forget that this life you were living with your job and your boys wouldn’t last forever. That sooner or later reality creeps in and brutally murders the fantasy you have created and as you hold the almost expired passport in your hand you remember the cold truth. That you never should’ve gotten involved, that you slipped and got attached and worst of all..you’d gotten someone else attached as well. Without you knowing the year you had left in London was almost up, in less than two months you will be off again to a new corner of the world with a new name and a new life.

Deep down though you knew, knew that you couldn’t not go. Choosing to remain this person you’ve created with her perfectly normal job with her perfectly normal life with her not so normal–but still perfect–boyfriend was never an option. Too many people want you, for various reasons from recruitment to revenge for what you did as a Widow; and those people would stop at nothing to get to you, even if that meant hurting someone you’ve loved.

You’re doing this, for them, you had to leave. There was no other option, and it was better to break it off now rather than leaving in the middle of the night. You fought the urge to be selfish, to keep living this life with them until you board your one way flight. So with a deep breath you stuffed your passport back into its folder in the drawer you owned and grabbed your trench coat and umbrella. You did not let a single tear fall as you hauled a cab to take you to the familiar route to their flat. You tried not to think at all, you knew if thought for a little too long you would talk yourself out of this. You knew this would probably be easier over text, you wouldn’t need to tell those big brown eyes goodbye and see them fill with tears or hate. It would be so easy…but you couldn’t. You knew that if you didn’t end it in person Steven, Marc, or Jake would show up at your door and wouldn’t leave until you did what you were doing right now. Telling them in person that it was over.

You didn’t waste time when the cab stopped in front of his building, you told the driver to wait and that you would be back down in just a few moments. Your heels clacked against the wet pavement towards the door which a kind, elderly neighbor of Steven’s you’ve gotten to know opened the door for you to which you smiled and thanked him. Every move you made was robotic, you weren’t even thinking you were just on auto pilot. Hoping that they wouldn’t be able to tell the slight shake in your hand or how stiff you were. You reminded yourself that you were doing this for them, and for you as well.

You entered the lift and pressed the button for their floor, the fluorescent light flickers a few times and the hum and rattle of the wires lifting the metal box do nothing to quiet the thrumming of your heart. Seconds pass by like hours before finally the sliding doors reveal the dimly lit hallway. One you’ve walked through dozens of times by now looks more like death row. You let not one tear drop as you walked, you couldn’t–you couldn’t let those doubting thoughts and happy memories pass through your head as you knocked on his door. Hearing a shuffling and the clattering of dishes before you hear them walk to the door. You could tell by the slight difference in gait that Steven was fronting and it hurt. You had hoped silently that it wouldn’t be him, your sweet Steven, with his unkempt curls and goofy grin. One who read you facts about Egyptian mythology and ancient history during stormy nights, who woke you from nightmares and held you gently like you were the most precious thing to ever exist. The sleepy man on the bus who laid his head on your shoulder and slept, who called you not even an hour after giving him your number. Please not him.

He opened the door and sure enough it was Steven.

“There you are love,” He said, a wide smile adorning his face as he ushered you in, “Me and the boys were wondering where you were,” he kissed your cheek and took your coat, “dinners almost ready if you need to wash up.” You stood there motionless, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t the first time you’ve cut ties with someone that you’ve cared for. However this was different, he was different. Steven, Marc, and Jake were probably the first people you’ve ever loved. You would do anything for them, anything, as long as they lived and were content and happy.

Even if it meant hurting them.

Even if it meant you could only watch from afar.

You took in a deep breath, willed your heart to stop beating before speaking.

“Steven.” He stopped immediately, you never called him by his name, only ever called him your sweetheart, or baby, or whatever other nickname came into mind but never his name. He turned away from the little stovetop and looked at you. You willed your voice to not falter as you continued, “we all need to talk.”

“Oh god,” Steven whispered, “how bad?”

“We need to talk,” You said not answering, “please.”

Wordlessly Steven turned the stove off as he made his way to you, you held up your hand when he was only a few steps away.

“Are they present?” You asked.

“They weren’t before but now they are,” He said, eyes furrowing in worry, “we’re starting to get a little worried love what’s going on?”

“I,” you start before swallowing the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat, “I’ve gotten a call from the main office, they’re relocating me in a few months to help on a different classified project.”

“Oh,” Steven said with confusion written all over his face, “where?”

“That’s classified.” You said, nails biting into your palm to stop yourself from getting emotional.

“When will you be back?”

Silence fills the room, you bite back the urge to say anything that would give him hope. After a few seconds you see his eyes widen as he looks at the mirror beside you.

“No,” he said to the mirror, “no, no she’s not,” he turns to you with tears pricking his dark eyes making them shine, “love, tell them that you’re not-”

“I am,” you say, careful to keep a cold tone despite the urge to cry, “I’m not coming back. It’s a permanent relocation.”

“But you can still come to visit,” he says hurriedly, tears still pricking his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair, “we-we, we can um, we can face-call or um, or we can text and call and we can make this work, I know we can make this work love.” you opened your mouth to say something when he cut you off, a few tears leaking through and leaving wet streaks down his cheek, “or you could tell them no, tell them that you refuse the offer!”

“I can’t say no,” you said gently.

“Yes you can,” Steven said, his large hands gripping your shoulders, “you can tell them no.”

“I can’t Steven,” you tell him, “I’ll lose my job if I do and I can’t.”

“Then we can face call,” he says, his hands now cradling your face, leaving small kisses on your face that feel like knives in your heart, “we can make this work.”

“We can’t,” you said as you gently pry his hands from your face, you reach into your pocket and grab the spare key he gave you after a month into your relationship and put it in his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” Steven says silently, his head hung, his crying seemingly subsided “can you please stay, stay with me, be with me until you go.”

A moment of silence happens, for a moment you reconsider, but then you kiss his lips. Salt and vegan chocolate stain your tongue until you pull back, resting your forehead against his momentarily. You imagine what life you could’ve had with them, one full of good days and bad days. You’d adopt a cat with him, you would laugh as he declared the cat his mortal enemy for looking at Gus for a moment too long. You’d save up together and buy a nice cottage in the countryside, maybe you’d get married, maybe you wouldn’t. But you could imagine what it would be like to grow old with him, when your hair would turn white and gray, when your skin would start to sag and he would still be there to tell you you’re as beautiful as the day he met you on that small bus all those years ago. It’s a nice life, one you know you would be more than content with.

But you know it’s not a life you can have.

“Goodbye.”

With that you left, closing the door behind you and walking to the lift. Walking away from the life you knew you could never live, not without constantly looking over your shoulders. You knew secrets always have ways of coming to the light, so even if you did stay how long would it be until he discovered yours. How long until he has a gun to his head and a target on his back? No, this was the choice, this was the only option. You made the right call, while you may not get to live that life; he still could. He’ll find someone else, someone to love and who will hopefully love him as much.

The doors slid closed and the wires hummed and groaned as they lifted you back down where the cab was waiting. You decided to walk and paid the cab for their time. You knew with the heels you were wearing you would regret it later but you didn’t care, you needed some time to think. You walked through the lit streets, you watched as people laughed and a few occasionally public criers. You stopped and waved at the living statue man that Steven introduced to you before walking on. This was a path that you and the boys would walk sometimes, they didn’t like going out much and neither did you, but the exercise did you good. You checked your phone to see how much time you had left before you had to board your flight. It seemed like you had enough time to go home, grab your duffle and carry on before the cab you called before you left arrived.

“Excuse me miss,” You turned to see a little girl no older than ten addressing you. She was a small thing, with dark curls and even darker eyes, she dressed as a white gown with a flower crown. “Do you care for some flowers?” You remember briefly seeing similarly dressed kids in the plaza not too far away, you gathered that maybe she had wandered away from the group unnoticed.

“You know what,” You kneeled down to her height, “I would love some flowers, but first let’s get you back to your group alright?” the girl looked around as if she’s realizing she’s not where she’s supposed to be, for a moment you’re worried about her crying as you see tears start forming in her eyes. You take the hand not holding onto the small basket of flower seeds gently, “don’t cry little one, we’ll get you back to your group all safe and sound.” You see her nod as she holds your hand in her tiny one as you lead her back to the brightly lit plaza just a few buildings away. She points to two women frantically looking and calling out a name. You let her hand go and watch as she runs towards who you assume are her mothers.

“Oh my stars,” you hear the taller woman breathe out in relief, “where did you run off too?”

“I-I went to go give flowers.” You heard the little girl sniffle before she pointed at you, “she helped me.” You gave a small awkward smile and wave before the smaller woman gave you a hug.

“Thank you so much,” She said before letting you go. “We were talking with the play director for one mo and the next-”

“No need,” you said, “she’s a sweet kid, adventurous too apparently.”

“You have no idea.” the mother sighed as she looked at the now giggling child in her wife's arms, “Angie loves to get into trouble.” you see her smile before returning her gaze back to you, “anyways thank you again.”

“No problem,” you say before turning your eyes towards Angie and her taller mother, “it was nice to meet you, and you too Angie–listen to your mum’s.” you went to walk away before you felt a soft tug on your sleeve. You looked down to see Angie holding up a packet of flower seeds to you.

“Here’s your flower miss,” Angie said sweetly, tears long gone, “thank you for helping me find my mum’s.” you gently take the packet of seeds from her and smile,

“you’re welcome, good luck with your play.” You said as you waved her goodbye as she went to take her place next to the various other children in similar attire. You stood there a moment longer, watching this small family you’ve encountered. All you’ve ever known of family was what the Red Room told you of. Your birth certificate was destroyed along with every other Widow’s, even then you doubt that your parents still walked the earth. Dreykov wasn’t one to leave loose ends.

You walked away from the plaza then, away from the brightly lit place and back onto dimly lit streets making your way past the few passersby and back to your building where a single duffle bag and carry on waited for you.

You had been brave the entire day, you had not let a single tear drop but once the door to your flat closed behind you all the resolve you had crumbled. You slid down the door as tears profusely fell down your cheeks leaving hot traces behind. You couldn’t hold back the sobs that had threatened to come out earlier. Your fingers shakily trace your lips as you hold onto the last kiss you shared with him. Your hand then went to your chest and clutched the material of your shirt as a sharp, throbbing pain in your chest grew. Every part of you was screaming, all for different things. There was physical pain like the ache in your feet and the pain in your chest, but the emotional pain–that was the worst of it. This was the kind of pain that teetered between hell and heaven.

So this was it.

This was heartbreak.

You don’t know how long you stayed there–teetering–but you knew you couldn’t be long. Soon you would have to pick yourself up, bite through every step as though it didn’t feel like you were walking on glass, grab that duffle and carry on, and leave. You let out a bitter smile as you remember that fateful day you met your boys, how you were planning on what flowers to plant in that dream home of yours. You reached into your pocket and grabbed that small bag of flower seeds.

Purple Hyacinth.

Sorrow

You laughed at the irony.

How fitting.

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“What do you mean my flight is canceled?”

“Just what I mean ma’am, the weather report-”

“It’s bloody London, has there ever been a clear sunny sky in London?”

“No..bu-”

“Alright,” you sigh, pinching the bridge between your brows, “I’m not trying to be difficult, I know you’re just doing your job, are there any flights cleared to take off?” You see the person type a few buttons on their keyboard and a few clicks of the mouse before looking back at you with false sympathy.

“I’m sorry ma’am all the ones cleared already took off.”

Shit, that leaves you with two options: going back to the flat or staying at the airport until morning…with a sigh you grab your bags and get ready to grab a late taxi back to your place. At least there you could shower and cry in private. First thing tomorrow morning you’ll get on the next plane to, you look at your ticket again Cincinnati, Ohio. At least you won’t stay there, your inside guy did you a solid and got you away from people. You’ll be in a small property big enough for one in a small town. It wasn’t ideal but at least you were away from the city stench. You’ll have to drive to places this time instead of hailing a cab, but you didn’t mind. All in all, it was an ok set up, much more preferable than your previous arrangement.

You tried to hail a cab for ten minutes, everyone that passed was either already paid or just didn’t see you. Eventually you thought you were going to have to bite the bullet and sleep on the uncomfortable airport lounges when a cab finally pulled up. You thanked god as you put your luggage in the trunk and got into the backseat.

“Where to miss?” the man asked, you didn’t even look at him as you replied. Instead watching the water drip steadily down the window pane.

“Too bad for the weather eh?” This driver asked in a thick cockney accent.

“Yeah I guess,” you replied, “though I guess it fits.” silence passes before he replies.

“Tough day issit?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” you said, closing your eyes, “it just doesn’t end.”

“Know what that’s like,” he replies, “I had a share of bad days myself.”

“Oh yeah?” You responded.

“Like today,” You hear him respond, “I burned my hand while making dinner for me and my girlfriend, we’ve been going on for a year or so by now. She is the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen, inside and out. Anyways the day only gets worse from there, she comes about half an hour early to dinner without warning. I knock my poor toe on the way to the door to let her in; hurt like anything. So I open the door, she’s as radiant as ever, only she’s got this sad look in her eyes, something I’ve never seen before. Turns out, she’s been lying to me… she said her job was taking her away and that she wouldn’t be able to be with us anymore.” a sinking feeling settled into your stomach, “we begged, we pleaded but no. She was adamant, and then she left, without another word. Isn’t that cruel?” You open your eyes to look into the rearview mirror, a chill went through your body as your eyes met a familiar dark pair. “Isn’t it mi carissima?” the accent drops into the deep spanish accent. You’re about to open the door when you feel a pinch on the side of your neck, and slowly the world blurred and then faded into nothing.

(Here's Part 2)

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hoshinoyozora · 1 year

Text

Warning of the Condemned

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Rook Hunt x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 2,4k+

❤ Warnings: Major character death

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

When you had a bad experience with someone, it was hard not to apply it to other people.

You knew you were only hurting yourself with that kind of mindset, but you couldn’t forget the image of Ace Trappola, your ex husband, when Rook Hunt proposed to you. He was famous, or infamous to some people, for his deep appreciation for everything and everyone he met. He complimented his suitors extravagantly yet nonchalantly, leaving them in a state of confusion and flattered. Gossips about his actions traveled to almost every social event until the nobles were split to two groups; the skeptics and the bulldozers.

Although you were neither of those groups, you still doubted his loyalty. If he could praise those yearning ladies so easily, then how long would it take until he fall for one of them too? There was also a problem about why he chose you, a mere widow, out of all the single virgins in the kingdom. But it wasn’t as if you could reject his proposal, either. Although he wasn’t the heir, he was still the prince and there was a pressure from both the king and your parents to accept. The former because Rook had been single for far too long, and the latter being the bulldozer group. Divorce might not be uncommon, but it still stained your reputation somewhat and your parents would do anything to improve it.

Even if it meant forcing you to marry this elusive prince.

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

You peered through your lashes, swaying and twirling back and forth in a dance that seemed to be endless under the judging eyes of the audience. You wondered why he asked you, when his smile clearly conveyed his knowledge. Then, you looked down thoughtfully.

“Everything still feels so surreal to me, Your Highness, so please give me a bit more time to adjust.”

A distraction, not quite a lie, to hide the truth. Once again, Rook humored you.

“Oui. Do take all the time you need, Mademoiselle. We have an eternity together, after all.”

You stiffened, tightening your grip on his gloved hand instinctively. Well, just because he said that, didn’t mean he’d be loyal, right? Marriages with the royals just so happened to be more binding than with the nobles.

“Of course, it doesn’t mean I will stop striving for your trust.” he simpered. “I do hope you remember my proposal, Mademoiselle.”

Yes, you remembered it alright. A fancy carriage stopped in front of your gate on one morning; the barrier between the rich and the poor, the curiosity of public and the privacy of family. Out came Rook Hunt, in his white and gold attire. His canary yellow hair shone brighter under the sunlight despite the white feather hat he seemed to love wearing. A pair of hunter green eyes pinpointed your flabbergasted face from the window, and a cheerful smile, as though oblivious to his mistake, curled his lips.

It was obvious that your whole family was thrown into chaos. Your mother wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and forced you to dress up as quickly and neatly as you could. Vaguely, you heard your father tittering as he welcomed Rook downstairs, and the latter’s flamboyant voice that drowned out all the greetings and polite questions. Glancing at the opened windows of your room, you were tempted to jump out just to avoid talking with him. It didn’t matter if you were already drilled with manners and pleasantries since childhood, you still disliked sudden visits.

Especially not from the royalty, who should’ve sent a letter beforehand.

Unless this was an investigation?

You shook your head. No, as far as you were concerned, your father had never done anything unsavory. At least, you hoped so. If he did, the knights would’ve come here by themselves. There was no reason why Rook would single you out when he’d never done that to other families.

Needless to say, your current dress wasn’t the best one, especially to receive such an important guest. But your mother was, fortunately, far more distracted by Rook’s arrival than your appearance. She urged you to sit on a chair, not quite facing him, yet still be the center of his attention anyway. You were reminded of all the Royal parties you’d attended, and, hell, even your own wedding. He was there; in the ballroom, in the garden, and in the church. Sometimes dancing, sometimes talking, sometimes drinking, but always staring. It was the main reason why you hated attending those parties, and which feeling bled to the casual events because you had a lingering suspicion that he’d be there somehow.

If he even came to your wedding when the royals were absent, despite the invitation being a courtesy at best, then what stopped him from coming to the events that were unrelated to him? He was the prince, after all, and a shameless one at that.

Still, Rook appeared unbothered by his own creepiness as he lowered himself to one knee and opened a velvet case. The diamond ring glinted like a grim reaper, and the proposal echoed like hell.

“Would you join me in the altar and create a happy life together, Mademoiselle? I vow – with my entire heart, body, and soul – that I will be loyal to you. Forever and ever.”

He smiled up at you with those sharp eyes that seemed to know more than they let on. Than you weren’t willing to admit. You knew it’d be hard to hide secrets, especially one as big as a divorce, from other people, but you thought you could at least pretend that Rook didn’t know about it. Really, there shouldn’t be any reason why he had to concern himself with you. Not even his parents cared much about the divorce of some noblewoman.

And yet, here he was, kneeling in front of you while your mother fainted behind you.

So, of course, you accepted it. You had to. If your father’s eager whisper and Rook’s knowing smile didn’t pressure you enough, the letter from the king sure did.

Then, Rook apologized for the ‘lackluster’ proposal, as though your mother’s reaction didn’t mean anything, and promised to hold a grand party to ‘repay’ it. Grand was certainly an understatement to describe the state of the ballroom right now, which gave more authenticity to your overall feeling of it being ‘surreal’.

“Let’s see. Perhaps I should start with him?”

He spun you until your eyes landed on your ex husband, Ace Trappola. He was watching through the crowd, one hand wrapped around his new fiancée’s waist while the other nursed a glass of wine. Since your first meeting with him, you already knew he was still childish. Marriage was too big of a responsibility to him, so you weren’t really surprised by his infidelity. Still, it didn’t mean your feelings weren’t hurt. A warm and loving marriage might be rare in your society, but you still expected some degree of loyalty from him.

“What are you going to do to him?” you whispered.

“Whatever you want me to do, I shall carry it out to the best of my ability.”

“Don’t be silly.” you scoffed. “We’ve separated amicably.”

“Oh, mon amour. What a huge heart you have, forgiving a delinquent who toyed with your feelings like a fiddle. Truly, your kindness knows no bounds.”

You merely huffed, unsure of how to respond. To his flattery, determination, or the implication that he was willing to do anything you ordered? You didn’t know anymore. He was just as romantic as he was enigmatic, and you feared the day would come when you had to betray him once you found out about his secrets. The day where you became no better than your own ex.

And his attempts at gaining your trust didn’t just stop at that dubious statement. Every day, Rook never failed to give you presents and praises. From your beauty, personality, down to the tiniest quirk you didn’t know you had. Now, you understood what those noblewomen felt whenever he complimented them; flattered yet confused.

Except, this time, he didn’t do it nonchalantly.

No, instead, he attacked you with all of his best weapons, but you were still too hurt and suspicious to lower your defense.

Although, right now, you wondered if you were better off resigning yourself to his attacks much sooner.

“What…?” you whispered, fearing that a loud voice might just burst the illusion created by your shocked brain. That maybe, just maybe, you were seeing things. “What is the meaning of this?”

Slowly, you withdrew to the iron door that separated you from the blissful world and gripped the cool handle. Ace and his fiancée hung on rusty chains, wounded and bruised beyond comprehension. Beside them, Rook stood with a proud smile as if presenting his masterpiece.

“My judgment to those who betrayed you, of course.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“You only said that I shouldn’t do anything ‘silly’. This, in my opinion, is far from silly.”

You didn’t expect that he’d use your words against you, but then again, did you really know him at all? Aside from his flamboyance, he kept everything else under wrap. In fact, you realized that you’d never seen his sadness. His anger was already a rarity in itself.

“So, what?” you inquired, voice shaking from the dread of his next actions. “Are you going to kill them now?”

Rook hummed in mock questioning and cocked his head.

“Do you want me to?”

Would you? Ace was a cheating bastard, loving that woman just because they had similar positions as a duke’s child and you a marquis’s. But other than that, and his occasional mischief, he’d never really done anything harmful to you. To torture them, or even kill them, would seem too cruel.

“No, please don’t. If people found out about this, they…”

Maybe you didn’t really care about their lives. Maybe you cared more about your reputation, just like any other noble. But it was still better than sentencing them to their graves, right?

“They?” Rook drawled, urging you to continue.

You gulped.

“They’d think I’m the one who killed them.”

“What if they found out that I’m the killer instead?”

What would happen? Surely, he wasn’t careless enough as to stain his own image for you, right? And yet, looking at his cavalier face now, you had a feeling that he wouldn’t mind it. Maybe he’d even find a way to turn everything into an advantage for you both. He was resourceful like that.

“I… I don’t know. A mere infidelity sounds a bit too… insignificant for such a big revelation.”

His smile changed, and with it, you felt like you were making a fool of yourself now.

“Mon ange.”

You grimaced at the nickname, deeming yourself undeserving of the meaning.

“Infidelity is never ‘insignificant’ enough for me to turn a blind eye to, especially if it involves you.” he mused. “But to the public, I have enough evidence of their conspiracy to replace my sibling as the leader with their own candidate, who is his own brother, to punish them properly.”

You gasped, torn between believing him and being skeptical. But, so far, Rook had never lied to you. Otherwise, he would’ve done that when he spotted you lingering in the entrance of the dungeon due to a man’s scream, which apparently belonged to Ace.

And the reason why he twisted your words was to avoid him lying, too.

“So, all this time, it wasn’t just because he loves her more than me? They’re actually… accomplices?”

“Indeed. Their romance is but a front for a dark secret underneath. It’d be most unfortunate if they were a couple from the start, but alas, fate just had to move this way.”

If that was the case, then what about him? Was his ‘romantic’ attempt a front too? Would he have proposed to you if you didn’t marry Ace at all? Would you have accepted him faster?

“… Why are you doing this?”

“I told you,” he simpered. “I won’t stop striving for your trust. Unlike him, I’m not the type to break my own promise, let alone the holy vow of marriage.”

You knew. You knew that all too well. From that grand engagement party, daily presents and praises, he wasn’t the type to give up on things he was interested in. Or someone. You never rejected him, either. You couldn’t, and that just gave him all the opportunities to win you over.

Which was why you weren’t surprised by their execution a week later. The gallows faced your way, and Ace was staring at you with a painful mixture of betrayal, hurt, and exhaustion from the seat on the right; the traditional ‘seat of honor’ in an execution. He opened his mouth, and you wished you couldn’t see or understand his words.

“Be careful with Rook.”

Even after all this time, he still cared about you enough to warn you.

You looked away, trying not to see the way his ankles and wrists were bound by manacles, and the white cloth that tied his arms to the sides and his ankles and thighs together. You tried to comfort yourself with the fact you didn’t know about his schemes until recently, and that everything was still his fault, even as you saw the guard finally put a white bag over his head through your peripheral vision. Then, Ace moved a few feet to the noose until he was fully positioned on the drop. The rest of his family stood beside him, but unlike him, they didn’t look at you or the Royal Family. They were too ashamed.

Suddenly, Rook leaned towards you and smiled pacifyingly.

“As expected, you retain your huge heart until you refuse to witness this fateful day. Worry not, I will not subject you to his misfortune any further.”

Because he was already your misfortune now.

You closed your eyes, trying not to imagine the way Ace’s stomach heaved and legs quivered when a few knights knocked out the supports holding the drops in place.

“Be careful with Rook.”

If only he said it much earlier.

If only he didn’t cheat on you.

Rook held your hand and looked at you knowingly.

“Do you trust me now, mon ange?” he asked, smile widening and eyes darkening. “Or should I strive even more?”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twst imagines #yandere twst #female reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook x reader #twst rook #rook x reader #rook hunt

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peoplesgraves · 1 year

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With the platonic yandere black widow family since you said natasha was the enforcer but tended to stick to the shadows. If the reader started to flinch and try to be as far from her as possible since she is the one to take of punishments and I am assuming because of Natasha's personality they wouldn't be close would natasha put in the effort to get closer or would she use the readers fear against them?

Natasha wouldn’t use your fear against you. She considers punishments a necessary evil but just because she thinks they’re necessary doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel bad. Of course it breaks her heart when you cry and scurry away any time she’s near but it’s not your fault, you’re still learning after all. Nat would punish herself instead. Obsessing over how awful of a sister she is for making you so scared, she just wants to protect you but she can’t protect you from herself. She’d still punish you when needed but now she actually sticks around after instead of letting one of the other family take care of you. She can go from unimaginable cruelty to the gentlest of care in a second and its sure to leave you confused.

#yandere black widow #yandere natasha romanoff #yandere marvel #yandere mcu #yandere avengers #yandere yelena belova #yandere white widow #yandere melina vostokoff #yandere red guardian

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years

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Not to be greedy or anything, but could you possibly write a part 3 to the yandere Snow White?

Is okay be a little greedy

Because I have more 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“May I be the first to welcome you, your grace. I hope your travels were peaceful.”

Bowing deeply you held the overflowing fabric of your official garbs standing in the servant-filled throne room. You were well aware of the pronounced hysteria that had spread throughout the city thanks to a leak by one of the council members. No sooner that this was discovered were you unable to dissuade Snow White from hunting that man down leaving you to make the speech to calm your people. It dampened the mass fear if only a smidge as your people applauded and continued to prepare for the hopeful guest in the capital. You didn’t necessarily blame them, the King of the Moors had a nefarious reputation. Betrayed by the Northern Queen and true father to the discovered illegitimate heir. Murdering the Queen and King, he had made his mark by barring, the Moors and the Northern Kingdom with a wall of thorns and magical curses. His legitimate heir had married happily before suffering from an untimely illness that left his young queen widowed with a single child. But as it was well known when Snow White was sent to be betrothed instead hosted a bloody massacre of the only remnants of the fae-king’s family. This was truly an act of grace.

“They were. As peaceful as one can have when any semblance of an heir has been destroyed.”

You dipped your head with the scathing remark as you motioned for the king to follow you further into the castle. Leading him past the various guards and servants that dared to come within five meters of your form. You forged on leading the fae-king into a grand conference room decorated in gold accents with your most apt maid and butler present. Seated, you offered for your staff to get him tea and with a demanding glance they rushed to fultill his wish.

“I…feel it would be an insult to not hear what demands you have for you are most certainly in the right.”

He wasn’t just in the right, your kingdom by Snow White’s extension was wholly in the wrong. You were nearly a step away from falling on your knees and pleading that he didn’t decimate your father’s kingdom. The pale man gave a chuckle in a deep baritone that made your stomach flip watching his pointed fangs show as he pulled his lips into a smile.

“How humble…this is an odd response for a human in general. A royal no less.”

Your heart unexpectedly fluttered at the compliment as you debated whether to respond to it; should you tell him of your true origin perhaps it would gain sympathy or gain some reasoning to your rythym.

“I wasn’t born into royalty. I like to think that influences how I treat others.”

You weren’t lying and honestly you felt no shame at that fact yet you couldn’t seem to hold the emerald gaze of the King. Bringing a gloved claw to his chin as he still seemed to be smiling amused at your confession.

“That is…a naive thing to say to a possible enemy…”

“I’d hope that wouldn’t be the case but either way you greatly out rank me. A simple fact about me won’t stop you from making your decision about my kingdom.”

His chuckles turned into belly laughs as he occasionally slapped his hand against the table; unintentionally causing your maid and butler to shake with fear. You waited until he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before releasing to stare at you with a ferocity you hadn’t expected before.

“Wonderful! Then I know precisely what I want.”

The butler shakily placed a pen and paper in your direction, watching with hope as you turned back to the fae king.

“Then if you’d please, so that I may make the official recor–”

The door slammed open with none other than your husband, Snow White. Stalking in like he didn’t just to disturb negotiations of peace after unofficially executing someone who gave your people a reason to panic. You clenched your fists as he loudly slammed the doors closed and not-so subtly standing behind you with crossed arms.You let your eyes flicker to the fae-king worried he may have shown signs of being disrespected only to find an amused smirk on his face. Feeling the tightening grip on your shoulders as the King of the Moors continued to smirk at the glare from the man behind you.

“I am glad you can join us, human of snow, I am certain you will find my demands most intriguing.”

“And why is that?”

The near growl from behind you was unfamiliar in its own right. Oftentimes you had witnessed his aggression towards outspoken nobles and council members with confidence. An overwhelming power difference was what Snow White thrived off of. It was of slight comfort to you that he’d finally know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that.

“Because I want your spouse to provide me with an heir.”

“Fine. Have your pick of the bachelorettes all throughout our kingdom!”

“I am sure you are not that daft. I have already chosen.”

“They’re married, horns.”

You whipped your head around as he spat the name out. Finally looking at him you could see his pale face lit up with angry splotches of red as veins began popping from his temple. Visibly gritting his teeth as he continued to clutch at the loose fabric of your outfit that hung decoratively on your shoulder. You figured if this was like one of those scenes where the worried couple receive terrible news and the seated one places a comforting hand on the other’s. One with a tightened grip on the other’s shoulder as they lock their fingers in comfort to another before facing the situation together. But this wasn’t that scene. And this wasn’t a drama about a pair of royal newlyweds taking on the world and everything against them. This was your reality. A reality where you were fighting the urge to physically tear yourself from Snow White’s grip. With a nod of your head you urged the King to continue ignoring the audible sneer that your husband was making

“That brings me to my next demand…your king must endure the maze of thorns and be stripped of his title. This should take care of the concerns of my last demand.”

He spoke with a mocking drawl speaking directly to you as you recorded his demands momentarily making eye-contact before you broke away. Practically feeling the fumes of Snow White’s anger you quickly made motions to sign the document and having the King of the Moors do so as well.

Once again leading the King outside the room where the remaining council members stood in anxious fear, with your staff behind them. You called for one of your hand maidens to come to your side as you bid your farewells.

“Should I set up a room for you, while we discuss…the arrangements of our deal?”

The humans in the room shuddered leaning closer, still interested in the confidential covenant you had made with such a grand being. He smiled at you once again holding your gaze with his slitted eyes.

“No it won’t be necessary. However–”

From his robes he pulled a staff you failed to notice before stomping it on the ground three times sending an illusion of green flames across the marble floor that had others squealing.

“My colleagues will ensure that everything runs smoothly until I return again.”

As he casually spoke to you the glow of sparkling dust revealed three new fae and the stomping footsteps of ghoulish tree guardians four meters high ducking in order to fit themselves in the tight space.

“And my guards will personally ensure that your…Snow White will not run off again. Lest he’d like an early death.”

Besides that the King of the Moors departed smoothly, being sure to hold your hand against his as he left with his entourage before leaving the capital. You wished to sigh and scream at the stress but the present had its own problems. Forcefully permitting the guards to quarantine their king with the intense observation of the guardians and you beginning to address the three fae left to actually sort things out with; that's not mentioning the sea of council members and nobles who intended to flood you with questions of your entire meeting. Collapsing on the empty bed with no need to prepare for the jarring presence of your husband or rather ex-husband as he awaited his punishment in a secluded tower.

For the next months your days and nights were filled with paperwork and responding to letters of bordering countries concerned about the growing thorns surrounding the kingdom. Perhaps if your husband had actually contributed to your workload you may have missed him but you didn’t. Instead, spend any of your free time with the three human-looking faces dressed in green, red, and blue who were especially keen on the proper meshing of your cultures in the wedding and ruling. You had no time to grieve for Snow White or even question the nature of his punishment, only knowing the maze of thorns as a rumor that further added to the feared reputation of The Moors King, your new fiance. Speaking of said-fiance, in the nine months since he had left your castle you would have forgotten what he looked like if he didn’t send his…iconic letters every night. The first time it had arrived you were still in the middle of a council meeting when a giant bat crashed through the window before screeching at you to take the parchment he was so politely clutching. After nearly giving everyone present heart-attacks around the same time every night you’d dismiss yourself to wait on the balcony of the royal bedroom.

While you had previously found yourself detaching yourself from your modernized views of love in marriage you couldn’t deny the rekindling of something as you reread the fae king’s letters. Filled with poems and serenades it was uniquely regal in the way he complimented you and encouraged actually knowing you…something only one person had ever done.

Speaking of the former king even with Snow White locked away and any of his orders requiring review it was a topic that required debate. There were still many who were intent on letting him rot in a mental tower and the politics of it were a lot to deal with. How you would rule your kingdoms was a majority of your struggle. Without Snow White to threaten anyone who so much as looked at you sideways it wasn’t any easier. You thought of using your fiance’s name but in the legacy of your father you’d do no such thing; willing to go through any systematic hoops to get him reinstalled as the substitute leader.

But until the date of your union you were on the grind to make sure everything was in order. Thus you had no time to visit either of the remaining royalty as you worked only making time to read and respond to your future husband.

______________________________________________________________

The beginning of a thirty day festival was but a day away with the first ‘attraction’ being the punishment of Snow White. Dressed in black and armed with rotting fruits and vegetables the common-people rewelcomed the King of the Moors. The wedding festival itself stemmed from a fairytale of a beast and his beauty as they prolonged their own union by a year as they worked against a curse. Despite its implications both the fae and human subjects found the tale to be inspiring, making it easier …to accept the marriage in general. Thankfully the media was more than happy to perpetuate the livelihood of the celebration as you traveled across both kingdoms and perpetuated excitement for the various parades that revolved around different aspects of their ruler’s cultures.

You sighed as the maids continued to dress you in your pre-wedding cape that complimented the fae-select choker. It was presented to you by the three accompanied fae who deeply bowed after an especially taxing day of compromise. He called it a gift from the King and demanded you wear it from there on forth. You did question him in his letters to which he explained the unique mating rituals that his specific species of fae.

‘It's a piece of me that I give to you. It is a representation of our connection and will act as a sign of protection for anyone who attempts to challenge you. Be proud of your future mate.’

It brought a smile to your face as you recalled the endearing letter which delved into his own understanding of his power before asking if this would intimidate you. To any other person it would have done just that but it only spurred your own interest as you honestly responded. Stepping out into the open air of your castle as you watched the tree guardians appear with a suspicious clutch of magical plants. No sooner than their appearance did you also see the fae entourage coming ever closer to the palace steps. You maintained your composure but were acutely aware of the streak of nervousness that appeared as you were finally meeting your pen-pal.

Seeing the various lights and flittering sprites all around you couldn’t help but marvel at their differences from you. You were still reeling at the existence of the fae in general coming from a world that deemed them all fiction. Bowing as the horned king emerged from the ethereal horde to stand by yourside; bowing to you first and then nodding to the trio he had left behind.

“It looks delectable on you…as I insisted.”

“You did…but I’m sure with something as gorgeous as this it’d look good on anyone.”

You both spoke with little movement, talking to each other in secret as you waved at the gathering crowds. Letting your guards guide you to the carriage with intentions to bring you two through the capital before beginning the traveling festival. You nearly jumped in surprise as you felt the tingling hand on your thigh and the fae-king lean into you.

“It would not because it was made for you.”

You tried to halt the genuine smile that pulled at your lips as you refused to fluster so early in the ceremony. If the smirking chuckle wasn’t enough to show that he knew of your struggle, the glowing glance you received as he pulled you onto the stage at the edge of the forest. Now seated in your portable thrones you were prepared for the event to have taken place. Noting the odd mixture of glee and grief, it reminded you of those history reenactments of executions. The notation was all the more apparent as tree guards opened the cage to reveal a haggard but still beautiful Snow White.

“For your punishment Snow White I sentence you to the whims of the Moor’s Maze.”

Gasps and guffaws resounded from the crowd silencing as the King held his hand up before continuing.

“Stripped of your royal title, stripped of your spouse, and stripped of any autonomy should you inexplicably survive.”

You saw Snow White raise his head with a glare at the King before one of the guards pushed him down. With no more than a look a wood-looking portal emerged from the ground with emerald flames of magic emanating from it. He looks at you and you steel your heart for the look of pain he was sure to give you. Instead he smirked as he began to revolt, mouthing words towards you that had you sinking in your seat. Immediately his struggle against the guards is halted by the throned vines that shoot out from the portal digging into his skin and pulling his thrashing form into the mirrorlike entryway.

The crowd was silent for a bit before hollering in a haze of excitement. Sooner than you could register you were waving goodbye retreating to the inside of your closed carriage as the fae in blue began to conjure a giant glass looking ball.

“Behold future-subjects of the fae let me be the first to entertain you with the glorious view of the exile of Snow White!”

In the spectacle of the glass looking ball the image of the pale man being dragged into the entrance of the maze once again had the crowd jeering and cheering at their former king.

“Annnndddd if you’d like to send a little ‘gift’ I’m more than happy to send them!” The green brother chimed.

“Buuuut if you want you can come here to add more challenges to the blackened Snow White!” Yelling louder the red brother shouted louder both conjuring the same glass bowl as bags of money were being shaken as the crowd divided to their preferred interest. Even through the cheers of your people you couldn’t bare to watch...not in horror or disgust but in fear of Snow White coming back. You tried to calm yourself reassuring the look that your affianced sent your way but it was set. The bubble of anxiety of what could be had already been birthed. You could find solace that he’d die. Because he most definitely would die from the maze…right?

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yanderemcu · 1 year

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Yandere Yelena Belova: White Widows bite

Who do they trust enough to tell their secret to:

Natasha and Kate

How long does it take for them to take you:

5 months

How much do they worship you:

8.5/10

Would they ever break their love:

#yandere #yandere yelena belova #yandere avengers #yandere mcu #yandere marvel #yandere girl #yanderewhitewidow #yelena belova #whitewidowxreader #white widow #yelena belova x reader #florence pugh

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monstrouslyobsessed · 1 year

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Can I request this concept? A male kitsune take possession of the still warm, dead body of a samurai and stole the life of this man, especially the samurai's sweet little wife. Darling suspect nothing and is just happy that her husband had returned to her side alive, after having hunted the fox demon who terrorised the village. Thanks! —anonymous

—a/n: ngl im very meh with this piece but hopefully you enjoyed this one anyway?

—tw / tags: gn reader, gore, violence, implied multiple deaths, burning bodies, details of destruction, body possession, general yandere themes, sfw —featured character(s): fox demon-possessed husband / warrior husband

As you emerged from your crooked shelter, your eyes watered from the stench. The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and burned flesh, nauseating your empty stomach. Briefly, you surveyed the devastation that surrounded you, the once-populated village was now reduced to a smoldering wasteland of sorrow and splintered homes. Your chest tightened with pain, sympathy rich for other survivors, at the whimpering sobs in the distance.

As you moved your eyes toward the horizon of the beyond, trudging along the rough dirt trail, your feet sore from the jagged stones and splintered woods beneath them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over you at seeing no sign of the person you longed for.

No figure in his iconic red armor forged from the bones of vanquished demons to be seen, leaving only the memory of his crooked smile to keep your heart a touch warm with love and hope.

The ocean of voices flooded your ears and you bit back a weary sigh. More dead to be burned and buried.

As the fathers, sons, and veterans surged forth to relight the bonfire, somberness curbing their movements, the resident monk hummed the funeral hymn and chanted for the spirits to find their way to the afterlife. He was performing the blessings to ensure that no demon would possess the dead to haunt the living. Despite the monk's needed existence in the village, the sound of his aged voice withered your nerves and woke the bitterness in your soul.

The monk's presence was only ever seen during such terrible events, while his faithful apprentice handled blessings for joyous occasions such as weddings and births. To you, the old monk might as well be a reaper wearing human skin, beckoning nothing but tragedies in his wake.

Dry sobbing echoed throughout the stale land. Your throat was parched, tasting ashes. The mothers, daughters, and widows of the fallen followed behind the men, to watch their loved ones burn, shrieking and quietly grieving their losses. Your nails dug into the back of your tightly clasped hands and you prayed you’d not be among them to grieve.

You tried not to shut your eyes too often, as the golden glare of the beast was still imprinted in your mind. Your blood turned cold each time you recalled the demon that had razed your village and slaughtered all those in its path. Its many tails thrashing through homes and stealing lives, it laughed at the bravado of those who thrust their weapons at it.

With one swipe of its claw, it wiped them out. A shiver trembled under your skin as you remembered the cacophony of breaking bones and snapping teeth, then it snapped up a poor soul. The boy's screams and the sound of his body being eaten between rows of white daggers, piercing and shredding his flesh and bones, would forever be imprinted in your memory.

You were there, frozen to the spot, as you watched the demonic being gleefully swallowing the body whole and then licking its chops clean of the remains of its meal.

The beast was larger than any monster you had seen before, towering over the wooden homes of the commoners. The demon's fiery eyes locked onto you and you knew you were its next meal. It grinned, purring a sequence of words that you were relieved you couldn't recall at all. All you heard were your own thundering heartbeats, pounding in your hot ears, as you choked on your breaths at each step it took toward you.

But then, a blur leaped over you and you heard a roar. You recognized the familiar black sword glinting in the flickering light, and your beloved husband swept in and charged toward the creature. Shrieking profanities as he ran, his armor clattering loudly with each step, and slashed his sword, leaving trails of silver behind it as it cleaved through the air.

The demon recoiled, narrowly avoiding losing its head to his sword.

That was the last you saw of your husband, as he chased the terrible fox from the village. It had been over two days since and you had prayed feverishly for your husband's safe return. A cold fear steadily grew in the pit of your stomach, like a thorny vine chasing the sunlight from the dry earth. It was a sickening feeling and you knew no sleep since your husband’s departure.

With a shuddering sigh, you wet your throat and turned your feet to help the grieving rebuild their lives. Having idle hands wouldn't shorten the hours until your husband's return you feverishly prayed for. There was nothing more you could do.

You may be the village's beloved warrior's cherished one, but you were not its spoiled royalty. You still had your duties to callous your hands.

"The lord returned!" A voice cried out, scattering the crows into the sky.

A quiet gasp departed from your lips—and with your heart daring to hope, you slowly pivoted back to where you were.

The forged armor of the layered bones cracked at each step he took, brilliantly red under the sunlight. His smile was as crooked as you remembered it to be, shining through the mask of dirt and dried blood on his face. He lumbered along the dirt path, tattered and exhausted, using his sheathed sword as a cane to support his weight.

You wobbled in disbelief at what you were seeing. His name whispered through your lips, questioning if he was truly the person you were seeing. Another breath of his name escaped, louder, in a choked cry. As he came closer, he jovially spoke your name.

His voice was all you needed to know that you weren't losing your mind.

You broke into a mad dash, shrieking out your husband’s name—and his warm arms encircled your body. Burying your face into his neck, ignoring the thorns poking you from his hard armors, you gripped his waist and wailed, “—! You came back! I—I,”

Sobs replaced your words and all you could do was cling to your idiotic, wonderfully powerful husband. Remembering the musk of your husband through the stinks of sweat and old blood, the soft texture of his hair against your nose, the coarseness of his thinly furred chin on your cheek—how warmly he held you in his tight possessive embrace. Everything of your husband you missed so, so much.

Nuzzling into your hair, your husband consoled you in a crooning voice, “I’m home, my love, I’m home.” He pet a large hand down your scalp, inhaling your scent deeply—to forever imprint it into his mind. Hiding his face in the crook of your shoulder, your husband hid his wicked grin, to hide the sharp fangs from peering out from his mouth.

Finally, your husband thought as the inhumanly gold color seeped into his once dark eyes, you’re mine.

He should keep this human suit a little while longer, to play pretend with his pretty little spouse.

—end

#my writing #monster's writing. 👹#yandere #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #tetrophilia #exophilia #reader insert #long post #unedited #sfw #concept #gn reader #demon possessed husband #demon possession #body possession

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afishintheamethystsea · 8 months

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Fade to Green Part II

Part I

Series Summary: Vaena Velaryon, Rhaenyra's firstborn daughter, becomes the lover of Queen Alicent, who intends to keep her by any means necessary.

Pairings: Alicent Hightower/OFC, Aemond Targaryen/OFC

Warnings/Tags: dead dove do not eat, smut, incest, yandere, porn with a pinch of plot, grooming maybe?, ofc is of age tho, drunk sex, spanking, power dynamics, body worship, oral, betrayal, ofc is morally questionable because this is game of thrones goddamnit, angst, Velaryons are black, ofc is either white or white passing, dubious if ofc is Laenor's or Daemond's child, breeding kink, hand feeding, period typical sexism, period typical homophobia, threats of violence.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This chapter is pretty Aemond-centric

"Eyes closed, both by blade, falling into the seven hells blind, his widow will not mourn him, but will join soon after."

Those were the new cryptic words Helaena kept repeating. Vaena was no different than anyone else in the family when it came to listening to her, if she did, she might have clued in that Helaena's words were prophetic. She was too consumed by thoughts of her engagement and her affair.

"We are to be sisters soon." Helaena spoke, more lucid now. Vaena smiled.

"Yes, I am excited. You feel like a sister to me already. I cannot wait for our children to play together."

Helaena said nothing, looking away, seeming distressed, for whatever reason, it made Vaena's heart drop down to her stomach. It wasn't like a rejection, it was like she knew a terrible truth.

"Are you alright?" Vaena asked. She wanted to reach out and touch her, but she knew Helaena didn't like to be touched by many people, one of the exceptions being Aemond. She reflected on Aemond's gentleness with his sister when he was severe in every other part of life, hoping that she might receive some of the same affection when she became his wife.

Helaena started back up repeating those cryptic words from earlier.

When Vaena was getting measured for her gown, Alicent was in the room, making all the decisions and saying exactly how she felt about the fabrics and the structure of the gown. She feigned frustration, dismissing the seamstresses from the room temporarily so it was just her and Vaena, and Vaena was in nothing but a corset and some small clothes.

"Is everything alright, my queen?"

"Yes, they're doing a fine job, but I wanted a moment with you." Alicent approached her future daughter in law, her lover, tucking a silver curl behind her ear. Vaena stood on a pedestal, her chest at Alicent's eye level, making it hard for her queen to maintain a sense of propriety.

"If these get any larger, I'll have to insist you retire all those enticing dresses and wear something more modest." Alicent told her. She knew Vaena's already soft and womanly body would fill out even more. Between her and Aemond, Vaena wouldn't want for admiration and pleasure, even as the eyes of men at court would start to turn in the direction of a willowy young maiden who had just flowered.

"I don't think a high neckline will do much to hide their shape, my queen." Vaena played into her queen's flirtation, inhaling deeply so her chest would expand and encroach Alicent's line of sight even more. "And wouldn't you like to look at them at your convenience, make a terribly boring day at court more pleasing?"

"If I got everything I wanted, you wouldn't be wearing clothes and you'd be confined to my chambers."

Vaena blushed, disappointed that Alicent had the restraint to not lift her breasts from her corset and suck on them. She was unable to stop herself from stealing glances even after the seamstresses returned. Even when Alicent approved of a concept for a wedding gown, Vaena was more attentive to Alicent than she was to the gown.

If she had cared to pay more attention, she might have noticed the message that green embroidery overtaking a white, Valyrian style wedding gown would send to the realm.

Even on her wedding day, she was more focused on the loss she felt with her family not being present, having abandoned her with a lack of letters. Vaena maintained composure, even though her mind had plenty of time to stew on the topic as her hair was braided and adorned with emerald jewels, today was not the day to cry.

When Aemond saw his bride enter the sept, he was in awe of her beauty. Green suited her silver hair and violet eyes. Her womanly body, silhouetted by the daylight outside the sept, suited the quiet opulence and loud message of her gown and emerald jewels that glimmered as she walked down the aisle, she would be given away by Aegon, seeing as her father was dead. She was not only surrendering herself to him as his wife today, she, the firstborn daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, was declaring her surrender to King Aegon II. The Blacks would hear about this betrayal, they would have lost the precious blood of a Valyrian woman. With Helaena by Aegon's side and soon Vaena by his, Aemond knew it would further legitimize The Greens in the eyes of the realm, Rhaenyra and her Strong boys hadn't a chance in the court of public opinion.

When they exchanged vows, Vaena kept unflinching eye contact, looking at him as if he had two eyes and was unscarred. Aemond was overcome with desire for his bride, she was perfect and eager in a way Aemond believed was above someone like him, a second son, a man with one eye.

And there would be no one to gawk and grope during the bedding ceremony, he remembered being powerless to stop what happened to Helaena on her wedding night, the late King Viserys had a kingsguard restrain him when he tried to attack a man who grabbed his sister. He wasn't untouched by women or an especially pious man, but the vile nature of men of a lower station treating a princess, especially one as fair and pure as his sister, like a common whore made him see red. He'd ban the barbaric ceremony if he were King, but Aegon had no interest in getting rid of the tradition.

During the wedding feast, Vaena noticed that Aemond was vigilant of their surroundings. He did not drink more than a cup of wine, declining servants' offers for it to be refilled. He put no such restrictions on Vaena, new brides benefitted from being mellowed with wine. She maintained a warm demeanor throughout their wedding feast, Aemond would whisper observations about the guests in her ear that would make her laugh, they leaned towards each other in their seats, and Vaena's warm smiles proved contagious to her husband.

Alicent watched the newlyweds. She had hoped and prayed to see Aemond this happy on his wedding day with a beautiful bride who reacted to him the way Vaena did. She supposed she got her wish, but at the price of seeing her lover look at another affectionately and at the price of knowing she pawned off a woman she had in her bed to her own son. If the marriage was successful, Alicent hoped it would assuage her guilt.

When she congratulated them, Vaena embraced her, almost as if a daughter would her mother if she hadn't just slightly pressed her chest against hers, a hidden message of sensuality no one but them could detect.

As the night drew on, the imminence of the bedding drew closer. Vaena looked at her husband expectantly through heavy lidded eyes.

"You won't let Larys Strong touch me, will you?" Vaena spoke with dulled inhibitions, thinking how awful it would be for such a rat to get to touch her before her husband.

"I'd be willing to gut every man here, but I've devised a plan that would spare you the indignity of having to see such violence." Aemond reassured her. "Ser Criston will be creating a diversion so that we might make it out of this wedding feast with our clothes intact." Aemond whispered in her ear.

"Thank you." Vaena said, her eyes now on his lips, thin and sharp, not at all like his mother's. There wasn't really anything about him that was like his mother, his features severe and wholly those of a Valyrian man.

Vaena watched Ser Criston carefully, wondering what his plan was. She noticed that he was basically shepherding the high lords, moving the crowd around with social graces until a most explosive confrontation between the young Lords Horus Tyrell and Edmond Frey was orchestrated. The two lords were frought enemies, Edmond had taken Horus' cousin, Wynona Tyrell, as his wife and she was found dead after a year of being unable to produce an heir, Horus swore to the Gods he knew his cousin was murdered. There had been significant effort to keep House Tyrell and House Frey separate, an effort Ser Criston intentionally sabotaged.

Horus drew his sword and chaos ensued, all eyes were on the spectacle. Noble ladies screamed in terror, Aegon reveled in the spectacle, making no orders to stop it.

"That would be our cue, wife." Aemond whispered in her ear before taking her hand and leading her opposite of where the crowd was gawking and through a door utilized by the cooks and cupbearers that supplied the festivities.

They ran through the kitchens and out the door that'd take them to the direction of his chamber. Aemond wrapped his arm around her skirts, picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way.

"Your plan is going to get one of those men killed!" Vaena scolded. Aemond smirked.

"Did I not tell you earlier that I would kill every man there to keep you untouched?" Aemond sealed the rhetorical question with a kiss on his wife's soft lips reddened with wine and sensuous blood that tinged her cheeks as well.

Upon arriving to their chambers, Aemond set her down and sprung into action.

"Lock the door." Aemond ordered. Vaena did so, watching her husband drag a heavy bookcase in front of the door for extra reassurance.

"Excellent idea." Vaena said. "I told the queen that I wouldn't let you leave these chambers until I was with child." Vaena rubbed her hands around the planes of Aemond's chest and shoulders. "She wants a little army of grandchildren."

"That, I think, we can arrange." Aemond having no qualms with the idea, sealed the agreement with a kiss. If Vaena were as fertile and wanton as her mother, the realm would be so overrun with little Targaryens that Westerosi houses would start to turn Valyrian, House Tyrell looked particularly appealing for such a plot and as of tonight there'd potentially be one less Tyrell in line for the lordship.

Vaena slipped her tongue into her husband's mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, Aemond made sure to keep her balanced, seeing as she was clumsy with wine, her body had a satisfying weight in his arms, whether he was carrying her or holding her upright.

Aemond turned her around and undid her wedding gown, thankful the garment was fairly simple. When stripped to her smallclothes, he removed the emerald ornaments in her hair, which proved harder than the gown, Vaena eventually joined in to speed up the process of letting her curls free. Aemond made short work of her smallclothes, unlacing her corset and peeling off her chemise to reveal her nude form, one as exquisite as Aemond imagined it would be.

Vaena set to work on her husband's clothes, he had not dressed much more formal for his wedding save for some extra embroidery and more green. She struggled to undress her husband as he smoothed his hands up and down her nude flesh, getting her warm and pliant for her marriage bed. What she revealed was a slender, sinewy body with a crop of coarse white-blond hair on his chest and surrounding his cock, which sprung eagerly from the confines of his smallclothes. Vaena kneeled down at the sight of it, she had never seen an adult man's cock, but her husband's had a meatiness to it that didn't match the rest of him and was practically begging to have a mouth wrapped around it.

"No." Aemond stopped her. "You can suck my cock as much as you please when you're with child, but I have no intentions of letting my seed go to waste while you still have an empty womb."

Her husband was right, as disappointed as she was, all the more reason for her to get with child as soon as possible.

Aemond, however, made sure she was on her back, her thighs pushed back until her knees were on either side of her shoulders so he could devour her pussy. He wasn't as good as his mother, but he still brought her to climax multiple times, telling her it would make her womb more receptive to his seed.

"Wait, you're not fully naked yet, husband."

Before Aemond realized what she meant, Vaena reached up to remove his eyepatch, revealing the sparkling sapphire it concealed. She gasped, Aemond thought out of horror until she told him otherwise.

"You're striking." She pet his hair to reassure him.

It was enough to make Aemond snake his way up her body, kissing and nipping her belly and breasts, until his cock stood ready against her cunt and kept intense eye contact with his bride, as though to test to see if she really thought the sapphire in his eye socket was truly bearable to look at.

Just as he was about to penetrate her, there was excited chattering outside their bedchamber. Aemond paused, the crowd made him feel anxiety about his performance.

"Fuck, of course they're going to crowd around outside the door." Aemond hissed quietly, more to himself than to Vaena.

"Well, let's give them a little show." Vaena's eyes lit up and a sultry grin curled her lips. "Oh gods, Aemond, I don't know if it'll fit inside of me!"

Aemond's pupils dilated, he was both aroused and blindsided at his new wife's boldness, a string of precum dripped onto her swollen pussy lips.

"Don't worry, it should only hurt for a moment, you're so wet for me." Aemond said, looking deeply into her eyes before filling her completely.

"Seven hells!" Vaena cried out. "It hurts but it feels so good."

Aemond groaned at the sight of her virginal blood being diluted by her arousal. "You're even lovelier than I expected." Aemond groaned. "You're so tight."

When Vaena hoped Aemond would burn brightly in their marriage bed, she hadn't expected it to be quite like this. It was wildly different from when she pleasured her queen, there was something more primal about the way her body responded to Aemond, an instantaneous heat and need that made Vaena understand why incest was the norm of their families.

With every needy, desperate thrust of Aemond's, equally desperate sounds poured from Vaena's soft lips. The intrusive crowd outside wanted a show, they were getting one, but not the one they expected of a fair maiden being horrified by a man with one eye.

"I hope your seed takes right now, the very first time having me, taking my maidenhead." Vaena made no effort to hold back her desire.

"If we're fortunate, we might have twins like my brother and sister did." Aemond played along, feeling her cunt grip even tighter around him at the suggestion of twins.

"I would want nothing more, except maybe triplets, should the gods be so generous to provide them."

When Aemond filled her with his seed, the pair of them cried out, Vaena's thighs squeezed by instinct, unrelenting for several minutes as their cries softened into panting, Aemond's softening cock was sensitive to his wife's cunt fluttering around it, trying to milk every last drop of seed, her powerful thighs, thighs of a dragonrider, kept him locked in place, his seed having time to settle into her, less would be wasted on their sheets.

"I didn't think my little brother had it in him." Aegon could be heard from behind the door. Aemond eye rolled at the comment, much to Vaena's amusement.

When the crowd eventually left, Vaena settled into Aemond's arms, spent and sated as he was.

"You still had your maidenhead." Aemond said very matter of factly.

"Of course I still had my maidenhead, I hadn't been with a man before you."

"They can be destroyed with fingers, some maesters even claim they can break while a woman's on horseback or dragonback, but that's heavily debated."

"Your mother refused to do anything with me that would break my maidenhead." Vaena told Aemond truthfully. "Not even a finger."

"My mother is a wise woman. Which is why I was surprised to find you two in bed together. She looked happy in a way I never saw her happy with Viserys, so I kept it to myself until I was told I would be marrying you."

"I hope you would not deprive her now that we are married."

"As long as you do not take another lover and make yourself available to me, I see no reason why you shouldn't entertain my mother." He set clear boundaries and Vaena did not object to them.

A couple hours before dawn, a sleepless Alicent, curiosity overriding her better judgement, decided to make use of the servant's corridors to check on Vaena and Aemond, peaking through a slight crack in the door.

The newlyweds were spent, sleeping, Vaena was possessively wrapped in Aemond's arms as his superior height formed something of a cradle for his wife to settle into, their bodies flush against each other as they slept on their sides, and Aemond was without his eyepatch, his sapphire eye catching the moonlight. She smiled to herself before returning back to her own chambers where she would sleep restlessly alone while the newlyweds still acquainted themselves in their marriage bed.

Aemond was woken up by a loud sound. He rose from his warm bed, prying himself from his sweet wife before throwing on a silk green robe to conceal his nude body. The sound came from the window, where he went to investigate and saw an unexpected sight.

"I don't think I have ever seen you up this early, brother." Aemond called down. He had not fastened his robe with enough care, his chest was exposed and his voice was still thick with sleep.

"The maesters need to confirm the purity of the bride. They won't shut up about it and decided it was my problem." Aegon informed his brother with the understanding that he was a nuisance and not in the way he generally made himself to be a nuisance.

Aemond collected the bloodstained bedsheet, trying not to stir his wife awake, and hung it out the window using two heavy objects to pin the corners down to the window sill.

"Proof enough, brother?" Aemond hissed, turning away from the window as the king laughed from below.

"Now put a babe in her cunt before her whore mother thinks to take her back. Your king commands it!"

As crude as the king put it, Aemond knew that Rhaenyra would have no qualms wedding her despoiled daughter to some traitorous house, House Stark immediately coming to mind. Aegon was right, it was imperative to get Vaena with child.

"Who's shouting so loudly at such an early hour?" Vaena asked groggily, approaching the window in a nightgown and robe she had just thrown on for modesty's sake, her mess of curls showing off just how well she had been fucked the night before.

"Sweet sister, marriage agrees with you." Aegon flattered her.

"Thank you, your grace. What brings you to our window?" Vaena rubbed her eyes, sleepily leaning on Aemond.

"Your king requires a host of nieces and nephews."

"Then I shall tear your brother away from this window and return him to our marriage bed." Vaena laughed, grabbing Aemond and dragging him back to bed... where they proceeded to sleep for a few hours more before getting back to work on making new princes and princesses.

Vaena made a risky decision and decided to lick up his scar and just before her tongue touched his sapphire, her tongue rounded around his eye socket. Aemond hadn't expected to like that as much as he did, he couldn't hold back a moan, his cock grew painfully hard and he felt a richness at the back of his throat. His eye still hurt him physically sometimes, but it seemed the area was just as sensitive to pleasure as it was to pain.

When he took her that morning, he took her from the back like a dragon would, showing little restraint and receiving no pushback as he fucked her with the ferocity of a dragon.

"You'll be the most beautiful woman in all the seven kingdoms when you're heavy with child. The realm will know you're mine." Rhaenyra was known for having chubby, healthy babies, most of them boys, Aemond hoped Vaena took after her mother in this regard.

He was steadily coming to the conclusion that Rhaenyra's scandalous behavior probably had little to do with her and more to do with the fact her father and her late husband were unwilling to tame her, and now she was in the arms of Daemon fucking Targaryen.

It would be a difficult task, but he could right the sins of his father using his beautifully wanton granddaughter.

After topping her cunt up with more of his seed, Vaena's stomach let out a loud growl. Aemond promptly had breakfast sent up, removing the book case blocking the door and putting his eyepatch back on while they waited. To their surprise, breakfast came with a tiered tray of sweets and pastries, all of Vaena's favorites, and a handwritten note of congratulations from Alicent. Vaena quickly ate the more substantive parts of her breakfast and had no trouble sampling the desserts.

"No wonder you're so soft, you have quite the sweet tooth."

"Am I too plump?" Vaena asked, a little self conscious.

"Not at all." Aemond answered, surprised by the question. She had more weight to her than other maidens at court, but such a fine shape that it added to her beauty. "Before we were wed, after a long day of training and assisting my brother and the hand with running the realm, there was not an idea in my mind so alluring as a soft bed with a soft wife."

He thought of a whore Aegon had forced upon him when they were younger who had heavy tits leaking milk, sealing a specific preference in women he had yet to develop. He thought of Helaena as she filled out after having her three children and how he wished he could have been the one to father them. He thought of how he wrapped his hand around his shaft the night before his wedding, thinking of how beautiful Vaena would look riding him, her tits so full and round and she was just a maiden.

As if she read his mind, she mounted him like a dragon, telling him that if he didn't want her figure reduced from her exertion in their wedding bed, he had best feed her the rest of her sweets as she rode him.

Over the days the pair had to each other, Vaena had proved herself hypnotically wanton and Aemond proved himself capable of keeping up. Aemond took great pain in prying himself from his marriage bed to return to his princely duties, only having the willpower to attend to them when Vaena promised she would cater to his whims when night fell.

#fanfic #smut #all the trigger warnings #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower x oc #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #dead dove do not eat #yandere #minors dni #my stuff

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