thevanillerose

[thevanillerose]

Sugar Meets Girl! by Shirano Akihiro

[thevanillerose]

BULLY | YANDERE!JEAN x FEM!READER | ATTACK ON TITAN

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Author Note: I wrote this piece a while back actually, like a while a while. Always been proud of it though. Jean was always a crush of mine. CONTENT WARNING: Unhealthy Relationships / Violence

“Haven't you showered? You're starting to smell.”

I've been training hard for the past two hours out under the baking sun. What do you expect?

Besides, you didn't even smell at all. Yes, you were sweaty. But there was nothing particularly unpleasant about it. Hell, it was sort of like a badge of honor in this place. Proof that you'd worked yourself to the bone for the sake of the Survey Corps.

Jean was just saying that because he was Jean, and Jean was a Class A dickhead to you approximately 99.9% of the time.

“Don't listen to him.”

Marco would tell you sweetly, but you'd be the one reassuring him that it was completely fine. It had been going on long enough that you'd gotten used to his sarky comments. You started to become a pro at brushing off his sly remarks like they were withered leaves that had fallen upon your shoulders.

Jean didn't like that. So he tried different tactics.

That was where the trouble really started.

It was like that old saying went. 'Sticks and stones'...well...Jean started getting physical, and that wasn't so easy for you to handle. A jab at how you were getting some tummy chub paled in comparison to him shoving you so hard in it that you fell to the dirt. And the first time it happened you were, frankly, stunned.

Yet as always, that boy came to your rescue like some sort of guardian angel. He'd crouch over you and hold out his hand, concern lathered on his freckled face.

“Are you alright [Name]!?”

“I-I'm fine...” you'd always lie. Marco saw right through it of course, but he knew you were just trying to be strong. So he didn't question your reassurances, yet always made sure to keep his eye on you and try to intercept Jean when he could.

However...he had a cowardly side to him. It came as part of the package when you were so sweet-natured that you wouldn't even squash a bug. He was afraid to confront Jean, but not just because of how volatile he acted. It was also because they had once been friends. Good friends actually, eager to help one another out and even train together. Jean was haughty in his ways, but he'd had a good heart once upon a time.

Yet it seemed to become blackened at some point. And that also seemed to coincide with your arrival in the picture.

At first it had started out light enough. You didn't like Jean's arrogance, and as soon as he picked up on that he'd always be sure to play it up when he was around you. However...his jesting soon devolved into something more mean spirited, and eventually it became this twisted game. He had no cronies. No crew following him around. Just him vs. you, and that was enough.

Marco wished he had the courage to stop it. He wished and wished, until one day he actually managed to summon enough to intervene. Probably because on this particular day, Jean went further with his torment than he ever had before.

You were just walking down the corridor in one of the Corps buildings, when you saw a brown jacket come into the corner of your vision, followed by a sharp thump against your side as Jean deliberately veered into you. The action was followed swiftly by a dark little chuckle as you stumbled back.

A heavy sigh of exasperation left your lips. Now your shoulder was aching, great. As if the training hadn't already made you sore enough. Though granted, you had been pushing yourself harder than usual recently. Trying to get stronger.

“Whoops~ Oh, don't mind me [Name]. Geez, feels like it was more your fault though, now that I think about it.” Jean stood before you and folded his arms, looking down at you pointedly with those sharp amber eyes of his. “You're such a klutz. I still can't believe they let you join the Survey Corps. You'd be better off with those useless rats in the Military Police...though too bad you'd never be good enough to get offered a place there.”

There he was, off again. Didn't he get tired of this? You just turned your head and ignored him.

“What, did I offend you? Get over yourself.”

You started walking away from him.

“Are you running away now too?”

Usually it worked, doing things this way. What was he going to do, force you to stay while he belittled you further? Not likely. Not...usually.

Yet on this occasion, things panned out in a very startling manner.

Something suddenly snatched your wrist and hauled you back so hard you almost felt like your pained shoulder could be dislocated. His hand.

Something thrust up against your neck and pinned you to the wall with a layer of tan fabric. His arm.

Something leaned in close and hissed at you malevolently. His face.

“I wasn't finished talking with you.” he growled at you through his teeth, which certainly didn't remind you of a horse's in any capacity, despite the nickname he still carried sometimes. His hot breath dusted your cheeks, his narrowed eyes focused intensely upon your shocked visage.

That was when you realized just how tightly he was pinning you to the wooden wall, and you let out a strained choke.

“Ow-”

“That's right...” he lowered his head slightly, a menacing shadow casting across his upper face as he squeezed you even harder against the surface behind you. “I'll make you squirm as a reward for being so rude to me, how's that? I bet that attitude of yours will go away if I make you faint...”

Marco saw it all. He watched with wide and horrified eyes from behind the corner wall, having been venturing down one of the connecting passages with a late night drink of hot milk for himself (a rare treat) and happening to hear the confrontation on his way. Yet he had never anticipated that Jean would lay a hand on you quite like that.

He was really hurting you. Marco could see it by the scared strain on your face, and he gripped the handle of the ceramic mug tighter within his trembling hand. How could Jean do this to you!? What the hell was his problem!?

He didn't even think then. As soon as your vision started to blur, Marco took action. His mind went blank, his fears dissipating in an instant as he gave in to the rage he had been feeling so long. Rage at both Jean and his own pathetic nature. It drove him straight across that corridor, and made him chuck that steaming milk straight into Jean's face the very moment he turned his head.

…

You still remembered the scream quite vividly. So animalistic...as if he had really become a squealing pig, something he so despised, in that moment.

Some time passed, and during it Jean didn't bother you anymore. It was a merciful break for once. You were able to focus on strengthening yourself even further before the next mission, and spending time with your friends Mikasa, Armin and Eren. Marco too of course, though he seemed very quiet since the incident. It was clear that the two had once been close, so you understood why he felt so pained.

“Hey Marco, you're looking kind of parched. Want some of my water?” you crouched down and offered him some from your flask after finding him sitting a little ways from the main training grounds. It wasn't especially hot today which you were very grateful for, but Marco had been pushing himself pretty hard, it showed. It was likely all done so that he could have a distraction from the burden he was shouldering.

“Don't worry about it. Marco, you acted on instinct. Besides, I'm sure you didn't hurt him too badly.”

You said that then, but the staring, sweating, shaking form he had in that moment should have been your clue. For when Jean finally returned from his short stint at the clinic, you realized that it really was bad.

His eyes were thankfully undamaged, which was a miracle really. But the entire left half of his face was now covered in mottled, pale scars. He didn't carry himself any more shakily than before, but you could see the blatant discomfort on his face when people stared. Jean must have been badly scalded for him to turn out that way, though granted, it was hard enough to source the right medical treatment for burns.

Regardless of what he had done before, you couldn't help feeling sorry for him when you saw what a state he was in. He wouldn't even look at you anymore.

And Marco started shutting himself in his room from that day onward, retreating just as Jean came out of hiding. Shadis must have found him either forgettable or useless, for he never pursued the matter like he would have with other members. You weren't sure how to feel about that.

“I guess Marco must be feeling ill or something.” Armin considered with a furrowed brow.

“Or maybe he's been feeling bad for Jean. Ugh...who would even pity that guy though?” Eren clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. You weren't really paying attention to either of them. Your attention was drawn by the tan and dark haired boy pacing across the way, alone, cutting a somber figure against the sunny blue sky.

There it was again. That sharp pain that even he hadn't been able to deliver with all his torturous little ways of picking on you. That feeling of pity for him.

Neither of the other two seemed to even notice he was right there, so you used the excuse of going to fill up on more water in your canister and took the opportunity to subtly pursue him. Jean walked beside the stables, the horses scoffing and stamping their feet as he ventured past. His slow tour brought you to a set of medium sized sheds that were used for storing practice dummies and spare training equipment. Only then did you pipe up from behind him.

“Jean!”

His figure stopped still in an instant, every nerve in his body seizing up. He slowly turned his head on his shoulders, but only enough to show you one heavy looking eye. After a bitter moment of silence, he spoke to you with hesitation:

“...Yes?”

“Jean...” you walked over with a pained expression, one which was genuine and heartfelt, “-I'm truly sorry about what happened. If I could go back in time and change things I would...”

He turned then, and you saw the full extent of the damage close up. It wasn't necessarily nasty. Just...sad. He was a handsome guy, but now a good portion of his face was marred with uneven scar tissue.

“...At first I thought you deserved it.” you admitted, and then clenched your fists by your sides, “But I was wrong about that, terribly wrong. Nobody would deserve something like this...”

“...Sheesh...you're...you're acting like I lost a leg or something...” Jean hovered his hand up by his injured cheek, fingers twitching as he took on an awkward smile and shrugged, “...I swear, it's really not that bad. Doesn't even hurt anymore.”

This was enough to make you want to cry. For Jean Kirschtein, now there was a first.

“Don't feel bad for me.”

“I can't help it...” you looked down and aside, but his slender fingers came under your chin in a smooth motion and tilted your gaze up again. He smiled much more tenderly this time.

“I deserve it. For all I put you through. I should be the one apologizing.”

“No, that's-” you flushed and shook your head, “-forget about that, okay? I don't even care about that stuff anymore, it's in the past.”

“...Well...I'm glad you were able to move on from it alright. And this?” Jean shifted his hand away and pointed at his scars with the other. “This'll get better with time too.”

Maybe he was right about that...

Still...

“Are you sure Jean? Look-” you suddenly reached out and took one of his arms, holding it up horizontally to your neck, “-you can try and make me faint if you really want to. I'd let you do it as payback-”

His eyes went wide, and he quickly jerked away so he could raise his hands and waved them frantically. “N-no, [Name], I don't need to do anything like that! No payback, I don't want that.”

“...Are you sure there's nothing I can do then?” Your spirits were still low, your worry clear.

“...Well...”

Jean suddenly hummed in thought, and glanced up and aside, before settling his fresh and kindly gaze upon you again, “-Maybe there is one thing you could do.”

“Oh?” you braced yourself and asked: “What is it?”

“Will you come with me to see if Marco's alright?”

…

He truly was a changed man.

“Staying alone in his room for so long, all cooped up in there. It was bad enough for me being trapped in the clinic, and at least I still had some human interaction. He's going to drive himself nuts.”

As Jean walked with you down the dorm hallway to Marco's room, he started to sound like a true friend of the guy again. It was very sweet to hear.

“Well...here we are.” he even remembered the right room to go to, stopping with you outside of the door. He lifted his knuckle to knock, but then hesitated and shot a little look at you. “Before I do this...I did have one more thing to say.”

“Huh? Oh sure.” you smiled sweetly and nodded. “What is it Jean?”

He showed you a similar expression, looking a little shy with it. His cheeks even turned a little rosy, which should have been a dead giveaway for what he was about to say.

“I picked on you a lot, which wasn't right of course. But...they say that sometimes people have a specific reason for doing that...” he paused, and looked down at his hand, clenching it before his chest, “...They do it because...they actually like that person.”

Your heart thumped, and he glanced at you again, bashfully.

“I uh...I do like you [Name]. I always have, ever since I first saw you. I wanted to get close to you, but I ended up going about it in a really backwards way.”

To say the least. Yet you weren't offended in the slightest. If anything, you were kind of flattered. Your heart was certainly running laps.

Jean smiled again then turned his attention to the door and actually knocked this time.

“I hope he answers.”

Silence.

Another knock.

Silence.

Third time's the charm.

Silence.

Jean tried it again. Silence still. He frowned and stepped back, tilting his head. “I did it pretty loudly on those last two, so if he was sleeping he should have woken up. He's kind of a light sleeper, I remember that much.”

You were also a little concerned, and you reached out to try the door handle. Your brows raised with surprise when it shifted down easily, the door clicking open. Shooting an uneasy look up at an equally startled Jean, you swallowed thickly.

“Should I go in?” you whispered just in case, and after a moment of contemplation, Jean nodded.

“I think you better.”

So you did. A simple push and the door swung open. It was that time of day when everyone else was outside, steeling themselves for the next big Titan scuffle, so the empty corridors provided a backdrop of eerie silence to accompany you as you walked inside his bedroom.

It was dark. Very dark. The blinds were closed, the heavy curtains drawn, casting the entire room into pitch. You only had a light bluish hue to guide you, vague shapes and shadows making up your surroundings until your eyes adjusted. And they only did so as your toe bumped against something.

That was when you noticed it. It must have been there the whole time, but you only picked up on it now.

The stench. A metallic, overpowering scent, yet not sweetened just yet. No...it was far too early for that. This was fresh.

You slowly looked down with eyes that could now see, and Marco looked back up at you with a vacant expression. Though it was hard to make out the entirety of it...considering that half his face was nothing but a few loose tendrils of red.

“AH-!”

Your scream should have been longer, louder, but it was silenced too quickly by Jean's hand. The door had long been locked and barred by that point, as your creeping into the room had been so agonizingly slow. His nails curled around and dug into your cheek, drawing blood that stained his cuticles, and making you whimper in the process. Jean pulled you back against his chest, and you felt his lips brushing your ear, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek, and making sure to lightly grace your hips and waist on its way there.

“How do you like my little surprise? I'll bet ten dead horses that you weren't expecting that. You did seem to completely buy my act after all.” Jean hummed in your ear and you shut your eyes tight, hyperventilating against his clammy palm. He carried on: “Maybe I should leave the Survey Corps and take up acting. Though I also think I'd make a fine butcher, wouldn't you say? I mean, look at this handiwork-”

His hand suddenly moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, and, still keeping your mouth clamped, he grasped it tightly and forced you to bend over until you were almost nose to nose with Marco's split open corpse. Looking into his dead eyes prompted those tears to finally spill over and drip down onto his colorless skin.

“-I seem to have a knack for carving up pigs.”

Suddenly he hauled you back up again, and this time turned you to face him. His hand finally left your mouth and let you breathe, but he gave you zero time to scream before his arm slammed into your throat and thrust you back up against the wall of the bedroom.

“HAA-!” you wheezed and closed one eye with the sudden, dull pain that blossomed over your back and spread up your spine.

“Now you can't complain about this [Name]~” Jean leaned in close and pecked away one of your stray tears, smirking and licking it off his lips. “You did ask for it.”

You wanted to ask him just what he intended to do with you. Kill you just like Marco!? Jean seemed to read your mind through those large and frantic [E/C] eyes.

“Don't worry [Name]. That's not the kind of fate I want for you. It would just be such a waste...” his knee slipped up between your legs and you gasped, forced to rest on his thigh like that. He only chuckled, the noises you were making were like the most beautiful music to his ears.

And you. You were beautiful.

Especially when you looked so tragic. He loved you the most like this. Sure, it hadn't won him many favors, but it had been worth bullying you for so long just to see that gorgeous look in your eyes every day. You were already such perfection, it baffled him how you could improve in any way, but somehow seeing you look so vulnerable was just the ticket.

Biting his bottom lip seductively, Jean then let them part again. He leaned in at an agonizingly slow pace, making sure you felt every single passing millisecond as he came in for a kiss. The boy still held you there in that harsh way, and through the corner of your eye you could see Marco watching. You had to shut your own to bear it, more saltwater trickling down with the fresh sweat upon your skin. From fear this time...and a little exertion from trying to keep yourself conscious. Though you gave in when his lips met yours and his tongue forced them apart. Having to endure this unwanted, passionate gesture was enough to make you wish you really were unconscious.

It didn't take long. He was in the middle of tasting you when he felt you go limp, and only when he pulled back did he see that you were out of it completely. Licking his lips again, Jean just tutted and shook his head with a wry smile, letting you fall away from the wall and straight into his arms. He lifted you up and over his shoulder, going to the door, though not before taking one last look at his fallen former friend.

That smile grew into a twisted grin, and he squeezed your side.

“Yes...I like you a lot, [Name].”

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#yandere #writing #yanderexreader #horror #writingcommissions #xreader #romance #writing commissions #readerinsert #commissions #attackontitan #attack on titan #jean kirstein #yandere jean #jean attack on titan

[thevanillerose]

I’ve been screaming on Twitter all day because Hajime Ysayama FINALLY revealed the canon timeskip looks for Ymir and Bertholdt! And I’m blown away by their hairstyles! Ymir’s is unusual but it looks so good on her and Betholdt has a mullet?!🥹💜

I love her looks so much AAAH💜 lol I am kinda proud🙈

[thevanillerose]

SLICE | YANDERE!SEPHIROTH x FEM!READER | FFVII

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Author Note: It’s time. I have to write about HIM.

Honestly though, Remake/Rebirth really turned me on to what a hottie Sephiroth is. I finally get it…

CONTENT WARNING: Unhealthy Relationships / Violence / Non-con NSFW

“Poor little thing…”

The point of Sephiroth’s silver blade dug deeply into your shoulder, pinning you haplessly to the ground with no chance to escape. If you tried to jerk or move away, the weapon would only pull harshly through your flesh and rend it open into a bleeding, gaping wound.

If your arm got too messed up, then you’d really be helpless. Though as it stood, it was already looking very bad for you. Sephiroth totally had the upper hand, and then some.

Did he intend to kill you? Well…that was where things got a touch more complicated.

He’d already killed your friends. Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Yuffie, Red XIII, Aerith…everyone…all of them…

They lay strewn and deceased around you, seeping scarlet red blood in growing pools against the temple floor. Above you, the ultimate enemy loomed, the cold breeze running through his long silver locks, flowing gently from his back. His impossibly long sword had stabbed its way into you, his final victim, while you had been trying to crawl to escape.

“You fought so well. And yet, here you fail.” he spoke in a deep and taunting tone, his words purred out past his lips. His Mako-infused eyes were focused on your pained, tormented face. He twisted his blade to the side just to see you squirm and hear you scream.

“D-don’t kill me! PLEASE!”

That desperate, panicked begging was something he had been longing to hear from you. But what a fool you were. Did you think he actually would?

That he would actually kill you?

“...Do you believe that I will?” he asked, his tone taunting and teasing, turning his sword like an oversized key in a tender lock all the while, “Do you believe I would want to kill you?”

You were rendered speechless by both the pain, and his words. You didn’t understand.

“I…” was all you could manage, a little choking start to a sentence before he suddenly, with surprising fervor, yanked the blade back out of your shoulder. Fresh blood splattered and sprayed from the slice he’d made in your delicate skin, and you rolled over, clutching yourself desperately.

“More foolish than I thought…”

Sephiroth began pacing in a slow and menacing circle around where you lay curled up and trembling. He wiped your blood from his blade, but left a little to slide his fingertips against, raising his black-gloved hand up to his eyeline, holding it level, rubbing the red between his thumb and forefinger where it sat so darkly.

“You didn’t consider that perhaps, I was doing all of this in order to claim you? As my own?”

Maybe it was because the agonizing pain made quite the distraction, but his words didn’t make any sense to you. You were totally lost. What did he even mean? Claim you? In what way?? What the hell was he talking about?

“P-please let me go…” you whimpered against the floor, tears rolling from cheek to cheek and pooling with the blood that had run down in rivulets from your shoulder. Your tormentor tutted, coming to a stop where he was standing right in front of your fallen face.

“And deny myself what I’ve always wanted? Since I first saw you in Nibelheim? I hardly think so…”

The two of you definitely had history. It was in your youth when you had first appeared to one another, him once a renowned SOLDIER, you, the pretty local girl, someone who Cloud had actually fallen for, but who Sephiroth truly desired. 

It had taken quite some time to reach the stage where he might actually be able to finally have you. But every step had been worth it in his eyes. And now, all the distractions, all the objects which might stand in his way, were laying dead around you.

“...I…I don’t want to be yours…” you gasped, and felt a slight gust against your skin, before his hand came down sharply and snatched around your tender neck, yanking you up from the floor until you were dangling helplessly above the stone.

With a slight squeeze, he stopped you from talking. He didn’t want to hear you say things like that. Enough of it.

“Whose will you be then? Cloud’s?” Sephiroth gestured over to the body a few meters away, the fluffy quaff of blonde hair a giveaway, a dead one, who it was. You felt sick just looking, and tried to turn your head away, shut your eyes, something. Instead, he let your feet back down to the ground, but only so he could flip you around and position you with your back to his tall chest.

He pinned you tight against his body, slipping his hand up beneath your chin and using his hold to grip and keep your face turned straight forward, looking right at the boy who had once protected you with all he had, but ultimately failed in the end.

Sephiroth used his free hand to cup some strands away from your ear, brushing them back and leaning down to whisper into it in a low and menacing tone, his breath feeling sharp and cold against your skin, drawing up the tiniest little hairs in response.

“I don’t think that will be possible anymore…”

Your trembling hands reached up to clutch his wrists, wishing you had the strength to pull him away from you. If you were going to die here anyway, then at least, you wanted to die without his hands all over you.

He only laughed at your efforts, softly, mockingly, finding it cute that you were even trying. 

“M-my shoulder…” you moaned with pain from being pressed against him like this.

“I’ll treat it.” Sephiroth’s lips brushed chastely against your cheek, in something close to a kiss, “I’ll spare you. I’ll care for you…and you’ll never want for anything again. I’ll ensure it.”

Tears began to well and flow from your desperate eyes.

“You’ll kill me…if I refuse?”

The eerie silence that followed was all the answer you needed. 

Swallowing thickly and nervously, you shook your head with a gentle whimper. As much as it hurt, and as scared as you were to die, how could you surrender yourself to him while the carcasses of your friends, and the ruins of all they fought for, surrounded you? You’d never be able to forgive yourself.

In response, despite still smiling slightly and smugly, Sephiroth showed his anger. His hold on your shoulder tightened considerably, and you squeaked as the pressure drew forth a fresh flow of blood, running down the length of your arm. It felt like he was practically digging his fingers into the wound, the pain amped up to 1000% again.

“AAHH!!”

You shrieked and squirmed against him, as he refused to let you go, and only spoke in a warning tone:

“You misunderstand, [Y/N]. Killing you is an absolute last resort. If you refuse me…I have ways of making you concede…”

The way his hand moved down your side was, again, answer enough. His gloved touch traced gradually, slowly, agonizingly along your skin, gracing it bare through the tears and shreds in your outfit. It was both electrifying and terrifying, in equal parts. Choking out a sob, you practically curled into him as he slipped his hand closer to your most sensitive spot.

It was easy for him to push his hand down past your belt, and wrap it around your mound, one taunting finger at a time. A simple squeeze and you weakened.

I have no choice…

I’m sorry…

Because what he would do to you if you refused was worse…

Like my writing? I can write for you!Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#yandere #writing #yanderexreader #horror #writingcommissions #xreader #romance #writing commissions #readerinsert #commissions #sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii #sephiroth x reader #yandere sephiroth #sephiroth ff7 #ff7 #ff7 rebirth #ff7 remake

[thevanillerose]

GONGAGA | YANDERE!ZACK x FEM!READER | FFVII

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Author Note: Yes, I called it Gongaga, because who’s gonna stop me, hm? WHO’S GONNA STOP ME?

CONTENT WARNING: Unhealthy Relationships / Violence / Non-con NSFW

“Why didn’t you just accept this in the first place!?”

Zack was so corrupted, and deluded at this point, that he didn’t even seem to understand how what he was doing was so messed up. He had a pretty face and a pretty mind to go with it, one which only thought in rose-tinted ideals.

[Y/N] would be much happier living back home with me where it’s safe. Why should she have to keep putting her life at risk?

Cloud may have been an old friend of his, but he was still very much against this whole AVALANCHE thing from the get-go. Because it involved you. 

You were also his friend, or at least, you used to be. These days you had evolved into something more, even if it was almost entirely one-sided on his part. He wasn’t so stupid that he couldn’t recognize you had affections for Cloud, even as his own had kept growing for you. But he was in denial.

Zack didn’t want to accept it, he straight up refused. No way could you choose Cloud over him. Surely you’d come to your senses and eventually realize the right choice to make?

Then again…he had thought the same about the decision to come home with him. He thought it would be a no-brainer, after you had almost been caught up in that recent reactor explosion, and he’d had to rush to Seventh Heaven to find Tifa tending to you in the spare bedroom. You’d actually gotten hurt…he hated it so much.

“Please [Y/N], please just come back to Gongaga with me, this is getting way too risky! You might seriously end up, end up–”

Dying.

He didn’t want to even speak it aloud…but it was possible. And if that happened, well…he wasn’t even sure how he would react. But it wouldn’t be good. He knew that much for sure…

Yet even still, even when you’d come out of that coma, and had listened wearily during recovery to his persistent pleading, you still refused his offer once you were back on your feet. Yes, you were grateful he cared that much. But AVALANCHE was something you were wholly committed to now.

“I’m sorry Zack, but I just can’t abandon them, even if it’s scary.”

It began to dawn on him at that point. You were never going to leave Midgar. Were you.

So…it came time for his own decision. His own difficult choice. He knew it might make you a little angry when he did this, but he needed to. For your own sake, and the sake of his sanity, he needed to.

Calling it ‘kidnapping’...seemed harsh. Yes he’d had to knock you out when you were leaving the bar one night, sneaking up behind you as you were on your way back to your grungy apartment. Yes, he’d had to bind you up in ropes and tie them tight so that you couldn’t escape as soon as you awoke, before you’d even had the chance to listen to him. Yes…he’d had to cart you away in a hired truck with a blanket over your body, away from Midgar and all your friends there before you’d even had the chance to say goodbye.

But it was for your own good, and maybe you just needed a little time…to see it.

The truck rolled up in front of his house. A simple, safe place, just for the two of you. He was proud of his village. You’d both want for nothing, living here. From now on. Forever.

That was the moment when you started waking up again. You had been passed out in the truck bed for a while, with Zack keeping tabs on you. He’d bribed the driver well, to just keep quiet about the whole affair, to just keep his seat up front and not trouble himself with getting involved, should things get dicey.

Well, they were about to. But the driver did as told, keeping his headphones in as he felt for the hefty portion of Gil in his pocket, staring straight ahead out of the windscreen and taking in the sights of this strange little place, biding his time and not glancing at the wing mirror once.

Meanwhile, you were sitting up now, albeit with some effort, leaning your back against the hard edge of the truck bed, your hands bound with black rope behind your back, wrapped all the way around the front of your belly. The same could be said for how your legs were secured as well. He’d really thought hard about making absolutely sure that you couldn’t just wriggle your way out of this one.

The blanket had fallen away completely, revealing your utterly bewildered expression as you wondered what the hell was even going on. 

With a slightly throbbing head, you looked past his blue-eyed, deceptively innocent face, framed with jet black hair, strands ruffled slightly in the gentle late afternoon breeze. You took in your surroundings. This definitely wasn’t Midgar, the mushrooms alone gave that away.

“...Zack…what…what did you do?” you asked, still a little bit out of it. He laughed a little bit, acting way too charming about something which was objectively very fucked up. He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

“Well uh…you wouldn’t listen to me so…I decided to take matters into my own hands. Anyway uh-” he looked back up with his piercing, needy gaze, “I’ll take you inside! This is my house, you know. I can take off the ropes when we get in there.”

You didn’t say much. You waited, tensely, and unable to hide your sudden bitterness, as Zack helped pick you up like you weighed nothing, carrying you bridal style in his pale, muscular arms. He hopped down off the truck, and turned to give the driver a signifying nod. He drove off immediately, seeming completely done with playing along at this point.

It was a wonder to you why that man had even played along with this in the first place when it looked so incredibly suspicious, but you figured money must surely be involved. 

Once inside, Zack held to his promise. He crouched behind your back, undoing the knots he had tightened so intensely, apologetic about it.

“Sorry…I didn’t realize I made them so tight. Are you okay?” his gloves hands graced your wrists gently, rubbing the raw pink marks that had been left dug into them.

Still, you didn’t say much. It was only when he came around in front of your chair and leaned down to look you in the eyes again, that you finally reacted to all of this fuckery. Your hand flew up and cracked against his cheek harshly, red blossoming in the shape of a handprint, his head thrown to the side in something of a blur.

“-!” he jolted, looking shocked, but why was he so surprised? Did he expect you’d be happy about all this??

“Take me back to Midgar, NOW!” you growled, and he slowly looked back at you again, rubbing the sore patch with a puzzled frown.

“[Y/N]...you know I can’t.”

“Why not!?” you felt like crying, but held back the tears as best you could so you could really confront him about this, “You kidnapped me, Zack! KIDNAPPED!”

“Don’t…don’t say it like that. Don’t put it that way…” he spoke piteously, looking at you sadly through his long lashes, “I didn’t mean to…I mean I’d never…this…I was just trying to help you!”

He’s actually crazy. He’s LITERALLY insane.

You shot up from your seat and tried to shove past him towards the door of his house. You’d find a way back to Midgar on your own, because there was no way in hell you were staying here.

But Zack’s hand shot out quickly, and wrapped tight around your upper arm, stopping you square in your tracks. He turned you with a slight yank, but though his touch was a little rough, his expression was still gentle and hopeful.

“[Y/N] please just give this a chance, don’t go!! It’s too dangerous, working for AVALANCHE. They can take care of things without you, I’m sure! You can stay here with me where it’s safe, until this whole Shinra thing blows over-”

“Are you NUTS!?”

“...H-huh?”

“You heard me.” you growled the words up into his face, through gritted teeth, “Now let me go.”

“Hey come on [Y/N]...I’m trying to be nice-” he refused to loosen his grip, only tightening it, and you struggled, tugging against him desperately.

“Come on–!! L-let me GO!”

When he still refused, you did the next best thing you could think of. Maybe to startle him, maybe to give yourself a window for escape.

Your other hand flew up for his other cheek.

But this time, he caught it.

Zack deflected your incoming slap by seizing your wrist in a tight, leathery grip. And when you looked into his lustrous blue eyes now, you could see their once hopeful glimmer had been replaced with a sharp, flat, icy pane.

“...Don’t do that.”

A new feeling struck you then. With both arms in his grip, try as you might, you stood no chance of pulling free from a much stronger SOLDIER like him. And the expression change seemed to indicate a new kind of danger, beyond just his twisted obsession.

He might actually hurt you.

“...Z…Zack…”

You hated the way your voice sounded in the moment, but you were afraid, and it showed. Zack could sense it, and his grip instantly softened, some of the light returning to his eyes again. He immediately looked bad, almost like he was shocked at himself.

“[Y/N]...Sorry but I…I mean I have to stop you from leaving. Just don’t try to leave, everything else will be fine! I promise I won’t do anything bad to you!”

But although he may have said so, you were reluctant to believe it. Maybe he wouldn’t intend to…but he might still, even against his own wishes. You needed to get away somehow, before he totally lost it.

Which meant…maybe endearing yourself to him? That could work.

“...Promise?”

You tried to shift your attitude. You tried to look at him innocently, like you’d abandoned your plans and were willing to trust him.

“Of course I do!” Zack shifted his grip so he was holding your shoulders now, leaning in closer, wanting you to believe every word out of his mouth, “I won’t ever!”

Liar.

“...So…you just want me to live here with you now? You’ll take care of me, from now on?” you asked him in a sweet, needy tone, and he relaxed visibly all the more, finally letting his hands drop just so he could throw his fist up against his chest.

“That I can promise too!”

“Great.”

You spun immediately on your heel, and threw yourself straight for the door. You frantically seized the handle and yanked it open, fresh air rushing on your skin again. Thank God he hadn’t locked it. Thank GOD he hadn’t–

A sharp pain in your scalp caused you to screech. Zack seized your strands in a swift grip and hauled you back so quickly you flew off your feet, your spine smacking against the floor as you dropped. 

“AH-!!” you yelped loudly, pained and aching. Laying there stunned, you could barely focus on him as he suddenly paced over towards you, his heavy boots making the wooden floorboard creak.

One planted itself aside your head, one on the other. He was standing right above you, looming like a pitch black shadow, his arms folded and his blue eyes sharp. 

“[Y/N]. I told you not to.”

Any sweetness in his tone had been voided, and now he only looked at you with an icy coldness. You tried to squirm back across the floor away from him, but he used one foot to pin you, stamping down harshly against your chest and making you wheeze.

“Y–you promised me!” you choked out, and Zack sighed. He used the sole of his foot to drag you back a little further below his body, then stepped on the ground again and squatted down on his haunches, right above you. The way he viewed you was like he was looking at a crushed ant. Pity for a pathetic, weak little creature.

“That was on the condition you don’t try to run away. But what did you just try to do?”

He tilted his head sharply to the side.

“I don’t appreciate being slapped either. I guess if you’re going to live here with me for the rest of our lives, you’re gonna have to learn your lesson about that too.”

His hand suddenly lifted, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to strike you. From him, it would come so much harder, and faster. His SOLDIER training had honed every muscle in his body, and made him stronger than you could ever even hope to be.

Petrified, you squeaked and turned your head away, holding your arms up to shield yourself.

“Don’t!!”

The blow never came. Instead, Zack laughed, heartily, too happily, and let his hand drop to his knee again.

“Hahaha! Okay okay, I won’t. But [Y/N]...”

He leaned down closer, almost bumping noses with you, having to place his other hand and a knee on the floor to steady his body. His hot breath gusted out and dusted your pallid cheeks, your wide eyes staring up at him in pure fear.

“You gotta promise me…”

The hand that was once going to beat you, swapped instead to stroke slowly, smoothly over the front of your body, caressing your breasts, your heaving chest, and traveling right down to the start of your upper thigh, sliding slightly under the hem of your combat shorts.

“That you’re never gonna run away from me. Ever.”

With a whimper, all you could do was nod and agree.

“I…I promise…”

Like my writing? I can write for you!Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#yandere #writing #yanderexreader #horror #writingcommissions #xreader #romance #writing commissions #readerinsert #commissions #final fantasy #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #ffvii #ffvii rebirth #rebirth #zack fair

[thevanillerose]

:>

[thevanillerose]

the absolute chokehold these boys had on me when i was a pre-teen-

Waking up.

#the powerpuff girls #rowdyruff boys #cartoon network #nostalgia

[thevanillerose]

ALERT! From now until the 21st of May, you can get 50% off any and all commissions with a 'yandere' theme!

(Because I love it so ♡ )

🌸 WRITING COMMISSIONS 🌸

Hi there! I'm Vanille~!

I've been working as a professional writer for 6 years now, and have worked with clients on projects ranging from video game scripts to full fledged novellas. Any idea you have in mind, I'd be happy to write it for you!

My full details, along with testimonials from happy customers, can be found on my website:

You can also check out some samples of my work in my commissions portfolio:

**RATE: $0.03/word [e.g. $30/1000 words]

NSFW: $7 per commission**

If you're interested in ordering something, feel free to DM me or comment on this post!

🌸

#writing commissions #writing #commissions #yandere #yandere x reader #xreader #reader insert #fanfic

[thevanillerose]

FINAL FANTASY XIII-2 (2011)

[thevanillerose]

TREASON | YANDERE!NOCTIS x FEM!READER | FFXV

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Author Note: Be careful… CONTENT WARNING: Unhealthy Relationships / Violence

“...[Y/N]...what you're suggesting right now...it's...” “I know.”

Treason.

Usually you would never even dare to think this way. When you had first met Noctis you had never even fathomed that you would. At first he had seemed so fitting for it. A true fellow of royal blood...he would surely be a noble ruler, no?

Now though...the thought of him being in charge of Insomnia, or anything really, was terrifying. Because all you could think about was how cruel he was capable of being, and how that had gradually become clear to you over time.

Noctis had shown it to you himself.

…

“You're not going to betray me, are you, [Y/N]?”

He'd pressed a blade to your stomach, stretching his arm out from his half collapsed position on the floor of his grand Insomnian bedroom, where you had found him in such a state.

Something had triggered this change in him. In hindsight, you realized that you had done so, by allowing Ignis to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek after you had saved him during battle. Sure, it was a little more than a peck on the hand, but you had still considered that it was surely just some form of kindness on his part.

However...

Three days later you had found Noctis like this. He had sealed himself away, refusing to see anyone after that mission, but you had finally mustered up the courage to go and see him.

It was a mistake. His pallid, tired face showed an ire you would have never expected, and before you even knew it, he was threatening you like that.

“Wh-what makes you say that?” you shuddered, too scared to move. Even though he was arguably in the more vulnerable position right now, you didn't doubt the speed with which he might shoot up and grab ahold of you.

“You know why...you're so beloved by everyone else...and now you don't have any time for me. You're breaking my heart...I feel like I'm going to die from it-” “I-it was just a kiss on the cheek, Noct! It doesn't mean anything!” you insisted, but he just pressed the blade harder into you, almost threatening to pierce through. “‘Doesn't mean anything’? That's bullshit...that's BULLSHIT!”

Suddenly, he dropped the blade. Suddenly, he was right up in your face and grabbing your cheeks and screaming: “I LOVE YOU! DON'T YOU GET THAT!? NOBODY ELSE IS ALLOWED TO, THAT'S A FUCKING ORDER!!”

...You'd never seen him like this. Noctis was calm. Noctis was collected. Noctis didn't wear his emotions so openly. Now he was this raging, almost sobbing creature, digging his nails into your skin and refusing to let you go. You squeaked and cried as he shook you repeatedly.

“DON'T DISOBEY ME! I'M YOUR KING!!”

…

Those words had never left you.

Now that him truly taking the throne was a reality, due to happen in only a handful of days...you had to refuse it. He was unstable, frightening, a monster.

Ignis looked at you cautiously. To be fair to him, you had thrown this up pretty much out of the blue. He hadn't expected you to come along and start talking about how you didn't want Noctis to become king after all. Especially because up until very recently you had seemed all for it. Hell, you had been helping the guy get to this point.

“If Noctis hears of this, you'll be banished from Insomnia...” he warned you, but you shook your head glumly. “No...I won't be. I'll be killed. Tortured and killed. By him...” “[Y/N] this is madness! What are you talking about!?”

Ignis was clearly baffled, but you just continued showing him a grim expression, and took a step back.

“If you won't side with me then I really will have to do something rash. All I know is that Noctis needs to be stopped. The people can't suffer that...”

You were serious. You were clearly serious. But Ignis didn't really know how to process this. He rubbed his temple stressfully and groaned. “...[Y/N]...this is a lot to bring up all of a sudden.” “Trust me, I wanted to say it sooner...” you hesitated, and clenched your fists, looking down, “But I was scared...I was so scared of--”

“Scared of what?”

That voice sent a horrible chill right through you. Please...tell me it isn't him.

“Prince Noctis.” Ignis stood ready in an instant, and you shut your eyes while your back was still to him, swallowing nervously. “Soon to be ‘King’.” Noctis uttered proudly. He certainly looked more chipper than before, and he came right up behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder and overlooking how you jumped in response.

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Ignis bowed politely, then glanced at you again. You looked so petrified...something was surely off. But...to suggest that Noctis be usurped...he wasn't so sure what to think. Perhaps it was better not to act too rashly. So many things had been arranged already...to cast it all aside...

“I will see you in the throne room later.” He assured Noctis, and quickly turned to leave. You immediately gasped and reached out a little, wanting to say something, but choking up before you could. He vanished down the corridor in no time.

Noctis's once gentle touch turned firm and painful, as he clenched his hand around your shoulder. Yelping, you tried to pull away, but his arm switched positions to lock right around your waist, his other hand pulling your head back by the hair and forcing the crown of it against his shoulder.

“Noct--!!”

His voice was in your ear, right there and providing you no escape.

“Treason...treason, treason, treason...” “Ah-!!” you squealed as he bit down on the shell of your ear, hard enough to leave it throbbing, and then started to talk again, “I warned you not to disobey me. I thought I made that clear...” he spoke in a low tone, his gloved hand tugging even more tautly on your fragile strands of hair, “And yet here you are...crossing me yet again. I shouldn't have to warn you twice, should I?”

There was a glimmer. Completely alone with him in this corridor, you watched with steadily increasing horror as he produced the short blade he had been keeping on his hip and held it up against the tender skin at the front of your neck.

You shut your eyes tightly, and whimpered. If these were your final moments, did you really want to go out begging? ...Actually, you didn't care. You just didn't want to die.

“Please! PLEASE DON'T!”

“...'Please'? You don't think I should punish the people who betray me? What sort of a king will I be if I don't stick to my values?” He dug it in a little deeper, bringing with it a stinging pain, and you wailed: “No...no!!”

There was a tense pause.

“...Alright then.”

Noctis gradually removed the knife. He let go of your hair, and you collapsed to the floor. Falling at his feet, you panted and wiped the sweat from your brow, eyes bulging.

He nearly killed me. He almost killed me.

“A king...can also be merciful when he wants to be. A king can do what he likes.” He crouched down beside you, and reached out with one hand to grasp your jawline. Jerking your head up, Noctis gazed into your tearful eyes with sapphire eyes that didn't care how much he hurt you.

No...he only cared that he got what he wanted. What other point was there to being royalty, after all?

“So obey me. From now on. In return...I'll forgive you. Just this once.” After seeing you nod your head so feverishly, clearly desperate to keep him happy now, he smirked. What a victory to have.

Drawing closer, he leaned right in, and pressed a cold kiss to your cheek.

Nobody else would have you. You'd never betray him again. And always...always...you and everyone else would be sure to do one thing.

Obey.

Like my writing? I can write for you!Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#yandere #writing #yanderexreader #horror #writingcommissions #romance #xreader #readerinsert #writing commissions #commissions #ffxv #noctis #noctis lucis caelum #ffxv noctis #prince noctis #ff15 noctis #final fantasy 15 #ff15 #noctis x reader #final fantasy

[thevanillerose]

VENT | YANDERE!GHOST x FEM!READER | CALL OF DUTY

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Author Note: I’ve been watching a lot of Brittany Broski lately on YouTube, she’s basically my new favorite person on the internet and I 1000% RELATE TO BEING SO RIDICULOUSLY THIRSTY FOR SIMON GHOST RILEY IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY. I DON’T EVEN PLAY CALL OF DUTY EITHER. WTF.

So here you go.

P.S. It’s inspired by that one character AI she found where Ghost is trapped in a vent with you. Because of course. Credit to User#631603 on CrushOn.AI, even though I’m pretty sure they deleted(?) it. CONTENT WARNING: Unhealthy Relationships / Violence / Claustrophobia / Non-con NSFW

“Cheeky little bastard…”

If there was one thing you had been sure of since day fucking one of knowing Simon “Ghost” Riley, it was that he was not the kind of man you wanted to ever get on the wrong side of. 

He was the member of Task Force 141 that nobody wanted to fuck with. He was ruthless, and didn’t pay much heed to the rules. He was calculated, highly skilled, and tough. And he never took off that mask…

Let’s put it simply. You were afraid of him.

At the same time…you were fascinated by him. Allured by him, and if you were being really, totally honest, turned on by him.

Sometimes when you saw him straddle a captive enemy during interrogation, crotch to crotch on the chair and knife up against the neck, you let yourself fantasize a little about being in the same position. Yet you were smart enough to know you should never actually get that close. There was too little you knew about him. Whether he was just the kind of man who would do that playfully with you…or if he would actually…

…There was something you didn’t realize until later on. After enough missions together with you, Ghost finally started to crack. He never removed that mask, granted, but the truth showed through it anyway. It shone through bitterly.

It started with him insisting on sticking together during missions. You assumed it was maybe because he still saw you as the newbie around here, or maybe he was just making assumptions because you were a woman. Yet it seemed his motivations weren’t driven by either.

Jealousy. That’s what it really was.

You were perceptive enough to come to that conclusion by the time he’d started making a point of pinching the back of your shirt and tugging you back towards him when you dared stray too far. Sometimes he pinched the skin. He wasn’t too gentle. 

Then it evolved into him getting irritated whenever he saw you anywhere near another male member of the Task Force. Grabbing you much more harshly, almost twisting your arm as he found some excuse to pull you away and busy you with something else. He didn’t even seem to care about leaving bruises on you as long as you were being kept away from the others.

You didn’t know when the fixation had taken hold exactly. But it got worse and worse as time went on. Eventually you began to realize just how dangerous it had become. 

That particular mission came like a snap in the face. One minute, you were both doing your duty, both focused on the task at hand, on infiltrating the stronghold of a rogue terrorist organization. Next thing you knew, he’d blown his top about discovering you had a drink with Soap last night. 

If you thought he was bad before…you didn’t even know the half.

His target switched from whichever ill-meaning terrorist was holed up in these dingy corridors, and focused solely on you instead. Quite literally, he’d aimed his gun at you, lined it up with your heart and pressed the barrel into your breast. In your shock at his sudden change, you hadn’t even thought to run from the get-go.

“You think I didn’t know about it sweetheart? I thought you were smarter than that.” he drawled in his thick Londoner’s accent, grinding the point of the gun into your skin, hitching your breath.

“Simon–”

“About you and Soap? Last night? What was that all about, eh? Did you want him to shag you that badly?”

“What the fuck are you talking about!?” you’d finally stepped back to try and put some distance between the two of you, which was when his gloved hand swung out to grab you. Usually he’d have caught you, but this time you were quicker, if only because the adrenaline spurred you to spin around and sprint in time before he could.

Every instinct in your body was on fire; GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

And you tried. But Simon wasn’t exactly slow, he’d catch you eventually. What he’d do to you when he did, you hardly wanted to even imagine. The only thing you could think of in your desperate panic, as your feet pounded painfully through concrete corridors, was to look for some space you could slip into that would be too small for his bulky, muscular body to follow suit.

The ajar vent opening you passed was as good as anything. You skidded on your feet so you could halt and leapt up just high enough to latch your fingers onto the metal edge, lifting yourself, pushing up the flap with a creak, and clambering into the confined space.

You weren’t much for a tight squeeze, but luckily your body was small enough to get through this one relatively easily. You crawled frantically on your hands and knees until you were deep enough in there that you were hopeful he might just run past and not even notice.

What the hell? You thought to yourself, as you strained to hold your panting in the dark, trying to stay still and quiet as a mouse now; Why is he doing this? Why is he like this? Why me?

You shut your eyes tight, reaching up and slapping your cheek, not caring about the sound because how could you not hit yourself when you felt so fucking stupid?

I’m an idiot! I’m not even special! Why is he so obsessed–

Your thoughts stopped. Your body froze. 

You felt it gently, tenderly, tickling against the back of your neck, standing all your fine little hairs at attention.

Someone’s heated breath.

“HEL–!”

-Was as much as you could manage of the word, before Ghost’s firm grip ripped your ankle harshly downwards, slamming you chin first into the metal surface below, and his fingers clamped tightly against your lips, silencing your shriek.

Whimpering and squirming, the tears finally came as you felt his bigger, broader body sliding up against your back with some effort, until he was chest-to-spine, mouth-to-ear. Saltwater dribbled down over the back of his glove, your hopelessness manifested. You didn’t even know how he’d managed to fit in here. He was almost suffocating you beneath his form.

The worst part was feeling below how he was already very clearly enjoying this…

“Cheeky little bastard…” he hissed against your skin, sounding both angry and amused, “You really thought you could fuck around like that, did you?”

The most you could do was choke out a muffled sob, beyond frightened. His free hand worked its way down your side, caressing the curves of your body slowly until it sourced the edge of your shirt, pinching and pulling it up gradually an inch at a time.

No…please don’t do this to me…

You shut your eyes tightly, and felt him growling in your ear again:

“Is this what your lover boy did to you last night, eh?”

You wished he would remove his hand so you could explain to him, however messily, that it had never gone beyond a drink. You and John had met up as colleagues, as friends, and nothing more. It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like that! It wasn’t like that at all!

But it wouldn’t have mattered what you said, even if you could say it. He had already made up his mind to be mad at you, to have reason to ‘punish’ you.

The interior of the vent only got hotter as the minutes dragged on. Ghost pulled your shirt up with a rough yank, exposing your skin, but it was barely a relief because there was no fresh air to be exposed to. Just sweat and the rough touch of his tactical vest. He worked his hand up under your practical sports bra and gave your chest a squeeze, pinching and toying with you, groaning something too low and guttural for you to make out clearly.

His hips ground against your back, powerful enough that you could practically feel the floor of the vent denting beneath the two of you. Actually, it would be a blessing if the whole thing broke through under the weight. You’d take dropping and hitting the floor below dead on if it at least meant getting away from him.

At the same time, you were so flustered. The scenarios you’d only dreamed up, this was just like one of them. Your cheeks were red in the dark, your body responded even while it was trembling fearfully. 

Only it was too real. This was no roleplay. It was every twisted desire he’d ever had about you, come to fruition, and it was more than you’d ever have been ready for.

You felt his teeth bite the shell of your ear hard enough to draw blood, seemingly spurred on by the way you squeaked and squealed against the palm of his hand. He touched every part of you he could reach in this tight, roasting space, and you could only lay there and take it, and hope he’d eventually let you go.

Little did you realize, that this suffocating, nauseating vent was the perfect symbol of what was yet to come. Of how your life would be changed as soon as he dragged you back out of here, dropped you out, pinned you to the wall by your fragile little neck and told you who you belonged to now. In every way.

No more “fucking around”.

No more freedom.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#yandere #writing #yanderexreader #horror #writingcommissions #romance #xreader #readerinsert #writing commissions #commissions #ghost #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost x reader #cod mw2

[thevanillerose]

i feel like i need to channel my inner brittany broski and write some steamy ghost fanfic immediately tbh

#just a thought #simon ghost riley

[thevanillerose]

Final Fantasy XIII - Dust to Dust

[thevanillerose]

FLORET | YANDERE!AERITH x FEM!READER | FFVII

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Author Note: There was a time and a place when I thought Tifa was best girl but then I remembered Aerith exists and it’s like…there’s no contest. Sorry. She’s a literal angel.

(Which makes her perfect for yandere stuff honestly). CONTENT WARNING: Unhealthy Relationships / Violence

My flower…

Aerith simply adored you. It had really been a from-stage-one sort of thing too. Your tender, caring nature was very much in line with her own, and she had been able to pick up on that feeling from you at the very moment when you had first bumped into each other at the Wall Market.

You had actually bothered to stop, to ask her if she was alright, to help pick up her basket of fallen flora, when so many other people had cared so little they had trampled half her stock. Your lovely eyes had met hers as you sympathetically gave her some Gil to buy one of the broken ones.

And from that moment, that very moment, she was utterly in love.

Of course, she couldn’t let you just be a customer who walked away into the depths of Midgar and was never seen by her again. She insisted on keeping in touch with you, under the excuse of wanting to ‘thank you’ for helping her.

Which had blossomed into many meetings between the two of you. Eventually, so many that her adoptive mother Elmyra had something to say about it.

“Aerith, I don’t want you spending time with that girl anymore. I think she might have some affiliation with that terrorist group that’s been going around causing so much destruction. It’s dangerous.”

She hated that her ‘mother’ was so quick to judge you based only on a spattering of rumors, as if they held any water. And even if they did, who was Aerith to care? It didn’t matter to her who you were, or what you had done. She knew her beloved when she saw her, and it was you. 

Her mother was persistent though.

So very persistent…

…

“Oh…it’s so beautiful here, Aerith.”

You were taken aback when she finally took you to her home, and showed you her carefully tended flower garden. You had already seen the blooms that she housed in the church, but this was a truly gorgeous sight. 

Petals surrounded you on all sides as you walked between the flower beds with her. In the background, the waterfall that flowed by her house gently thundered down from the cliff, pooling in gentle azure below. She really lived in an oasis compared to the rest of grungy old’ Midgar. Given where you were typically holed up over in Stargazer Heights (as grateful as you were for Tifa’s help in that regard), this place was like a very literal breath of fresh air.

Aerith spun around, looking all sorts of princessy with her white skirt billowing in the gentle breeze. She clasped her delicate hands behind her back, and faced you with a kind, caring smile, her gratitude for your mere presence here alone being something she evidently showed.

“[Y/N], you know something?” she took playful paces towards you, and you tilted your head in curiosity.

“Know what?”

Reaching you, she lifted her soft-skinned hand, which smelt of petals, and touched your cheek like a graceful whisper.

“You’re the most beautiful thing here.”

Flushing magenta, you quickly looked away, shaking your head. You hated getting compliments like this, you never knew how to take them. Aerith giggled when she saw the way you reacted though, and clasped your hand, leading you along with her towards her home.

“Come on~ I’ll make us some dinner.”

…

Inside her house, there was a comforting scent of potpourri. Not obnoxious, but lingering in the air quietly. You followed her through to the kitchen, and although you were excited to eat what would no doubt be a delicious dinner, you were also somehow struck by an uneasiness which you struggled to place.

And that was when you realized something which you hadn’t picked up on at first. The quietness here…

…Didn’t Aerith say she lived with her mom?

“...Hey Aerith, is your mom out tonight or something?” you asked her outright. She had her back to you while she was working at switching the stove on, but you could see it visibly for just a moment. Her shoulders turned rigid and stiff, she seemed to have frozen for the briefest second, right there on the spot. 

Your uneasiness grew. 

“...My mother…she…”

Aerith slowly turned, and you were struck by the sorrowful look in her eyes, immediately feeling a horrible pang of guilt for even prying.

“She passed away a few nights ago…”

“Oh my God…” you breathed out in shock, and slowly, sympathetically approached, offering her your arms. Of course she stepped into the hug, never one to deny it, and you embraced her tightly, pressing your chin down against her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry…why didn’t you say anything? You’ve been holding that back all this time?”

“I just didn’t want you to worry.”

Aerith’s voice sounded so sad. You didn’t see how she was smiling as she said it.

Oh [Y/N]...more people should be as trusting as you. 

Your hug…I wish you could embrace me like this forever…I’d die for it.

As you parted from her, you found yourself sniffling, overcome with your own sadness for her, “I’m glad you told me now at least. Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be just fine. She’s buried out among the flowers, it’s a beautiful place for her to rest.” Aerith said, and smiled wearily. Somehow, despite such a heavy confession, she still managed to plate up dinner for you both, and managed to stomach eating some of it too. 

After doing the dishes together, she toweled off her soapy, reddened hands, and looked up at you with a needy expression, baring her real desires for a moment.

“Can you stay over tonight? I…don’t think I can handle being alone.”

“Of course I can.” you hugged her again, squeezing her closely. 

The evening sun dipped and the moon emerged above the little oasis. Beams struck the flower petals outside, rustling gently in the breeze. Up by the cliffside, a hasty grave had been dug, the earth freshly packed. Upon it, a crudely made cross was jammed into the dirt.

Close enough, you could see what it read. A simple, singular word.

‘DESERVED.’

…

Aerith was kind enough to let you have the spare room. She let you know before sleeping on her own, that you could come by and knock anytime in the night if you needed anything. To wake her up, and let her know. You couldn’t fathom how she was so considerate and kind even when she was no doubt going through her own kind of hell.

Losing a parent…and the only one she had at that. As you settled into bed and curled onto your side, you couldn’t stop thinking about how brave she was.

During the night, it wasn’t that you needed her. You did, however, need the bathroom, and so you quietly opened your door and crept out onto the carpeted landing, hoping not to wake her. Clearly she needed her rest.

What you didn’t realize was that Aerith wasn’t trying to sleep at all. 

She had her body pressed to the other side of the door immediately when she heard your bedroom one open. Her palms were up against the wood, her ear to the surface, listening ever so carefully. 

Is she trying to leave? Where’s she going? What’s she doing?

Does she know? Does she know what I did?

Aerith raised one thumb and bit the tip of it, gnawing anxiously. She was on edge, flesh prickled, wondering if you weren’t trying to trick her while you thought she was still fast asleep.

No…NO!

You’re NOT allowed to leave!

And she flung the door to her room open without really thinking, startling you so much that you almost fell over the stair banister and to the floor below. You clutched the polished wooden bar and stared at her with wide and startled eyes, before calming down, breathing out.

“Aerith…you scared me…”

She didn’t calm down though. No, instead she seemed very much on edge, her posture rigid, her eyes peering out far too sharply from a figure that was slightly shadowed in the dimness. She watched you with such wariness, you were shaken. Why did she look so accusatory? Did she think you were trying to do something bad?

“I just needed the bathroom…” you felt the need to defend yourself on the fact, however bizarre it was to have to. In return, you could see her finally relaxing, the tautness slipping out of her shoulders, and her eyes hooding slightly, no longer wide and bulging as they had been.

“I…I see. It’s right down the hall, this way-” Aerith gestured, pointing towards a distant door in the dark, and you smiled stiffly, awkwardly nodding. As you made to go and empty your bladder though, Aerith piped up again, reaching out to clasp your wrist with a gentle touch. When you turned, you could see in her eyes that she was embarrassed.

“I’m sorry [Y/N], if I scared you. I didn’t mean to, I’m just…you know…”

The sincerity there was enough to set you at ease, as you realized the obvious reason she would have for being out of sorts. She’d lost her mother. That would break anyone.

“No it’s totally fine! Please, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” you wrapped your hands around her own and gave it a squeeze, smiling warmly, wanting her to know that you meant it.

Aerith finally felt relieved enough to return to her room then, biting back the desire to pull you closer and kiss you. No need to rush and risk ruining things, no…she was happy to give you time. She’d just have to keep making excuses for you to stay, until she finally mustered up the courage to tell you the way she really felt.

But not the whole truth. Never the whole truth.

You didn’t need to know everything…

Still, as she slipped back into her room again and closed the door, while she may have felt so much more at peace than before, there was something she hadn’t accounted for, and she didn’t even realize it.

See, while you may have still been in the partial throes of sleepiness, you weren’t utterly unobservant. And as you passed by that particular door, on your way out of the bathroom again, the scent made your nose twitch, and your mouth moisten with immediate nausea. 

Someone had clearly tried to bury the smell under the stench of potpourri, masking it in perfume, but it was only an attempt, and not a full success. Because you could smell it. 

Your eyes drifted to the handle. An entrance to another room, presumably another bedroom, one which had a thick, hefty padlock fixed on the outside of it now. But even the biggest, strongest lock, couldn’t sap the smell of death out of the carpet that lay beyond.

No matter how many times she’d scrubbed it. No matter how well she had bagged up all the…meat…and washed off all the gardening tools so she could return them to the shed. No matter how diligently she had tried to remove the last remaining traces of her mother from this house.

It was that horrible, gut feeling when you knew something was wrong, when you just knew your instinct was correct. You knew it was something you ought to listen to…that little voice in the back of your head telling you that there was something very dangerous about all of this…

But…

The lock was a strange fixture. But maybe Aerith couldn’t bear to go into her mother’s room right now.

The smell was foul. But if someone had passed away in there, did it not make sense?

Most of all…it was just unthinkable that Aerith would ever…

That she could ever…

Why would she?

What possible reason would she ever have, to do something so horrible?

So, you swallowed your concerns and shook your head, choosing to believe what you wanted to believe. You kept it in mind as you returned to bed. You scolded yourself for even considering it for a moment, as you burrowed under the thick covers, surrounding yourself with the scent of a garden again.

Aerith would never do such a thing.

You knew her.

She was as pure as a flower.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#yandere #yanderexreader #writing #horror #writingcommissions #romance #xreader #readerinsert #writing commissions #commissions #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #aerith #aerith gainsborough

[thevanillerose]

SPRING SALE, NOW ONGOING!

Get 24% off any and all writing commissions (of 2000+ words) until the 6th of April!

🌸 WRITING COMMISSIONS 🌸

Hi there! I'm Vanille~!

I've been working as a professional writer for 6 years now, and have worked with clients on projects ranging from video game scripts to full fledged novellas. Any idea you have in mind, I'd be happy to write it for you!

My full details, along with testimonials from happy customers, can be found on my website:

You can also check out some samples of my work in my commissions portfolio:

**RATE: $0.03/word [e.g. $30/1000 words]

NSFW: $7 per commission**

If you're interested in ordering something, feel free to DM me or comment on this post!

🌸

#writing commissions #writing #commissions #yandere #readerinsert #yandere x reader

[thevanillerose]

BODYGUARD | YANDERE!RENO x FEM!READER | FFVII

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Author Note: I know Reno’s kind of a big dork but let’s forget that and make him scary instead :3

I mean, he carries an electric rod around…hello?? How can I not make a thing out of that…?

CONTENT WARNING: Unhealthy relationships / Violence / NSFW (kinky) / Religious themes

Also, some debauchery taking place in a church setting (no disrespect or offence intended). Just my own twisted take on that Tifa fight from Advent Children (you know the one).

“CLOUD!”

You screeched his name like it was literally being torn out of your chest. Rushing to his fallen side, you collapsed into a sobbing pile beside him, barely able to lift his muscular, beaten, bloodied and twitching form into your weak, limp, quivering arms.

“Damn. That’s all he had in him? I was expecting a tougher fight…”

Reno cockily brought his electro rod up against his shoulder blades, tapping the bone toyfully through his smart dress shirt, pacing casually towards where you were kneeling. Around you, Aerith’s blood-splattered and trampled flowers marked Cloud’s final resting place.

He had tried to protect you to the very end. He had been able to endure a lot from Reno’s surprisingly tough onslaught. It had seemed likely he would win, up until the point where his heart had been shocked just right, and he had stumbled. Reno had taken his chance when he saw it, kicking him down, and over, and over, beating his body even as his heart was already giving in.

“I even had to take my jacket off. He made me work up a sweat, huh.”

You despised how haughtily Reno spoke, as if he hadn’t just killed the one person who meant the most to you. Though then again, was it really any surprise that he had? Of course he needed to remove that pesky little spiky-haired obstacle. 

Your ‘bodyguard’ had been getting in the way of his advances. Inevitably, eventually, he needed to take him out. And now, he finally had. Not without getting a few cuts and bruises himself, but that well-placed strike of his rod had done the bulk of the work. It didn’t matter how tough a person became, their heart was always vulnerable. Cloud’s heart…was particularly fragile, it seemed.

“This can’t be happening…” you whispered and whimpered, rocking Cloud gently from where you had finally managed to pull him into your lap with some effort, cupping his cheek and wiping away blood he had coughed up from the corner of his pallid lips. 

Now standing right over you, Reno looked down at the sight with some disgust, narrowing his eyes. Man, he despised seeing you fawn over that shithead. Couldn’t you just get the hint? There was no better protector for you than himself.

It wasn’t even about what the Turks wanted. Fuck the Turks. It was about what he wanted.

And he wanted you.

“Oh get over it already. He’s already dead. Come on-”

Reno had the audacity then to reach down and grasp your arm, trying to tug you up from your mourning spot. Of course you responded like anyone sane would, jerking away and glaring up at him with tears pouring out of your eyes. And you spoke in a way you never usually would. You said something he never thought he’d hear you say.

“FUCK YOU, Reno.”

Honestly speaking, he didn’t even fully register it at first. He stared down at you with wide turquoise eyes, his pupils shrinking. He was almost smiling, so shocked he couldn’t help it.

“...Excuse me, Princess?”

Clearly he didn’t catch it. That was fine. You repeated it for him, nice and clear. 

Bitterness laced your words like an acrid seasoning. You meant it.

“Hah…ah…I don’t think you know what you’re saying…” Reno lowered the rod slowly from his shoulder, and you could see blue-hued sparks dancing across the thin length of it, “You’re just upset, you don’t mean that.”

“No. I do mean it.” you made sure he knew, and then looked back down at Cloud. It was your strategy now to just pretend this stupid redhead never existed. He had gone from someone who was just an annoyance, a persistent irritation, to someone who you genuinely, wholeheartedly, loathed.

“...”

Since you had turned away, all you heard was silence. You didn’t see the way Reno’s face twitched and changed and contorted into an expression that would have made your blood run cold. But you did feel something like ice, when the tip of his electrified rod pressed against the side of your neck.

“I think I deserve an apology for that one, [Y/N].”

An apology?? An APOLOGY!?

You whirled around, ready to spit another insult at him, but he was quicker before you had the chance. The electric shock surged through your delicate skin and jolted your body with a violent shake, causing you to convulse and fall back. Reno kicked Cloud’s head off your lap and reached down to your spasming body, gripping onto a bunch of your hair and dragging you across the floor. 

It wasn’t intended to kill you, but it had paralyzed you somewhat, and you could only whimper and quiver as he pulled you over towards one of the pews. He hauled you up against the polished wooden surface, stomach-first. 

“R–eno—”

You tried to beg him not to, not to do this, especially not here. Not in this sacred, beautiful place. Not somewhere Aerith had cherished so much while she was still alive. 

His rage was too intense to listen. He hauled your skirt up roughly, ripped your pants down, bared you to whoever’s eyes were watching, and proceeded to discipline you with the best tool he had at hand. 

He controlled each electric pulse just enough when he smacked and beat your cheeks with the rod, shocking you every time, but ensuring that you wouldn’t accidentally die like your precious Cloud. No, Reno had no intentions of letting you go, not into death, not into another man’s arms, not anywhere away from him ever again.

He’d be a bodyguard as extreme as they come. He’d keep you in his sights and away from anything, everything, that could possibly coax you away or harm you. He was the only one who could really do this for you.

And even in such a sanctimonious place, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish you anytime you sinned against him. He struck you again and again until he was certain the lesson had quite literally been electrified into you, and only then did he lift the rod against his shoulder again, and lean down closely to your ear with a fistful of your hair still in his pale-skinned hand.

His tattooed cheek pressed against your skin as he whispered his question:

“Are you sorry, Princess?”

All your defiance had been sapped away, a portion at a time with every strike of the rod. Now too weak to even stand, you stuttered out your words practically pleadingly.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry…”

Cute. She’s so fucking cute.

Reno smirked, satisfied with that, his own rage dissipating too, and he let go of your hair, brushing it back into place. Knowing you’d struggle to do so yourself, he helped you up and held you in his arms, wiping your tears and leaning in closer so he could press a tender kiss to your lips.

Like a lifeless marionette, you could only let it happen.

Parting from you, Reno looked dreamily into your eyes, quite content to know you were probably too afraid to ever defy him again.

“Don’t worry.” he stroked your skin, toyed your hair around his slender finger, and promised you; “I’ll keep you safe.”

As he guided you beside him, towards the church exit, leaving behind Cloud’s body for whoever now tended this place to eventually find laying frozen and cold, he whispered again, almost tauntingly toned…

“I’m the only bodyguard you’ll ever need.”

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#yandere #writing #yanderexreader #horror #writingcommissions #romance #xreader #readerinsert #writing commissions #commissions #ffvii #ffvii rebirth #ffvii remake #reno #reno ff7 #reno ffvii

[thevanillerose]

please i will give my pinkie toe just to pull this man. PLEASE.

#attackontitan #attack on titan brave order #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #reinerbraun #reiner brainrot #thirsty #i'm so thirsty #it's not even thursday but thirsty thursday #cowboy