hi hope you are well :3 fuuka is my favourite out of your OCs!! Just asking, do you have any crumbs on 2m tall yandere knight? I forgot if he has a name sorry
When you first start tagging along, Vane is visibly annoyed, and pushes you away. “If you get in my way, I’ll leave you behind.” He doesn’t sugarcoat anything, he sees you as a nuisance… a reminder of the past he's trying to bury.
Even while being rude, he always positions himself between you and danger. If you trip, he scolds you but offers his hand anyway. “Watch your step. I don’t have time to carry you.” he mutters, then quietly adjusts your bag so it's easier to carry.
He starts noticing the little things: how your eyes brighten when you talk about your dreams, how your laughter reminds him of something warm and long lost. It unnerves him, but he keeps getting drawn in. He wants to believe he doesn't care. But your persistence cracks through his hardened shell. He starts watching you from afar, quietly, intensely. Every gesture, every laugh, every bruise you earn in battle is engraved in his mind.
When others take interest in you, Vane becomes colder and more aggressive. “Don’t talk to strangers. They’re probably after your coin– or worse.” He masks jealousy as practical concern, but his eyes follow you like a predator.
He doesn’t sleep well. At night, he stares into the fire, watching over you like a haunted sentinel. Sometimes he murmurs names from his past, only to abruptly stop when you stir. He hates how vulnerable you make him feel… and how much that vulnerability matters.
He doesn’t talk about his past often. But when he does, it’s only to you. Fragmented sentences. Half-finished thoughts. Bloodstained memories spoken in a low monotone, like he’s bleeding them out one word at a time. You become the only person who knows the full weight of what he’s carrying.
When you're nearly killed, something inside him snaps. He doesn’t hesitate– he cuts down the threat with brutal precision. Then he holds you, shaking, saying nothing for a long time. Afterward, he won’t let you out of his sight.
Once Vane realizes it’s love, he refuses to call it love at first, love is something gentle, something meant for better men. But when he finally accepts it… There is no going back. You are no longer just someone he protects. You are the reason he breathes, fights, and endures. Losing you is unthinkable. Living without you is impossible.
The realization comes when he almost loses you. When he sees your blood. When he hears you gasp in pain. The thought of a world without you hits him harder than any weapon ever has– and he knows, in that moment, this is far more than obligation.
Vane won't say he loves you, not outright. But he'll kill for you. He'll abandon a mission if you're upset. He’ll ruin anyone who tries to hurt you. You are his redemption, he won’t let anyone else take you away from him.
One day, under the moonlight, Vane will kneel before you, sword in hand, swearing himself to you in a warped mockery of a knight’s vow. “You are my light. My salvation. I’ll kill gods and kings before I let them take you.”
Vane stops caring about whether loving you makes him a worse person. If loving you turns him into a monster, then he’ll be a monster gladly. Your existence matters more to him than his soul.
pairings. various m! yandere monsters x gn! reader
warnings. yandere themes, toxic obsession, 18+ dark themes
a/n. i love my sillies!!
wc. 6.1k
imagine a dark, mystical forest where you're the lone human, fated to cross paths with a group of terrifying yet obsessively devoted monsters.
each of them is unique in their appearance and abilities, but they all share one thing: an unrelenting desire to make you theirs, no matter the cost.
the werewolf
a hulking figure with sharp claws, wild amber eyes, and a low growl that vibrates through your very bones. he encountered you when you wandered too close to his den during a full moon. despite his primal instincts, he resisted harming you, instead captivated by your bravery—or foolishness.
he tracks your scent everywhere you go. if you so much as step outside, he’s already following from the shadows, ensuring your safety (and warding off anyone who dares to come near).
he marks your belongings with his scent and doesn’t hesitate to bare his teeth at anyone he deems a threat. you’re his mate, and he’ll challenge anyone who thinks otherwise.
though rough and wild, he becomes uncharacteristically gentle when he sees you hurt or scared, licking your wounds and curling protectively around you.
the werewolf is a wild, untamed force of nature, his obsession with you rooted in instincts so primal he can't suppress them even if he tried.
he watches you from the shadows, always nearby but rarely letting himself be seen at first. your scent drives him to madness—earthy, warm, uniquely you. it's comforting and addictive, and he can't get enough. he's stolen pieces of your life to keep close: a scarf left behind, a mug you drank from, anything that holds your essence.
his possessiveness is terrifying. he won't let anyone else near you if he can help it. if someone gets too close, he intervenes, his voice low and threatening, his golden eyes burning with barely concealed rage. no one dares challenge him; there's something in the way he moves, the way he looms, that screams danger.
he doesn't understand human boundaries. if you're speaking to someone too long, he'll step in, claiming he needs to talk to you or finding some excuse to drag you away. if you protest, he'll growl—not at you, never at you—but in frustration. you're his; why can't everyone else see that?
but with you, he's soft. gentle. when he's sure you're not afraid of him, he'll let you closer, let you see the man beneath the beast. his touch is careful, almost reverent, as if he's afraid he'll break you. when you're upset, he wraps himself around you, his warmth and presence enough to shield you from the world.
his affection shows in small ways. he brings you gifts from the forest: flowers, feathers, shiny rocks he thought you'd like. he watches your reaction closely, his heart swelling with pride when you smile. if you ever thank him, he becomes almost shy, looking away with a faint blush creeping up his neck.
jealousy is his constant battle. if he sees someone making you laugh or smile, his claws dig into his palms. he won't confront you about it, but the person who caused his jealousy might find themselves on the receiving end of his wrath later.
at night, he lingers near your home. the thought of you alone, unprotected, drives him crazy. he paces, his instincts screaming at him to stay close. sometimes, he leaves small signs that he's there—a paw print in the dirt, a tuft of fur snagged on a branch—as if he wants you to know he's watching over you.
his biggest fear is your rejection. he knows he's more beast than man, and the thought of you being afraid of him keeps him awake at night. if you ever flinch or pull away, it shatters him, and he'll retreat, his golden eyes filled with pain. but he always comes back, unable to stay away, his obsession too strong to overcome.
you are his anchor, his reason for fighting the beast within. he doesn't care what it takes; he'll keep you safe, even if it means keeping you all to himself. his love is overwhelming, suffocating, but he doesn't see it that way. to him, it's devotion—pure, unbreakable, eternal.
his growl rumbled low as kael draegon stepped from the shadows, his golden eyes fixed on you with that same wild, desperate intensity.
"don't be afraid," kael draegon whispered, his voice rough but steady as he offered you his hand. the cold breeze tugged at his hair as he stood beside you, his voice soft as he murmured, "you're safe now, with me."
kael draegon always seemed to appear just when you needed him, his presence both calming and terrifying. his hand lingered on your shoulder for just a moment before kael draegon pulled back, his voice almost apologetic. "old instincts, i'm sorry."
the vampire
elegant and poised, with glowing crimson eyes and a voice like silk, the vampire first saw you in the dead of night. he was drawn to the purity of your blood but became enthralled by the purity of your soul instead.
his pale, marble-like skin seems to glow faintly in the moonlight, untouched by time or imperfection. his crimson eyes burn with a smouldering intensity, framed by thick lashes that only add to his magnetic gaze.
his raven-black hair falls in soft, silky waves around his sharp cheekbones, perfectly complementing his aristocratic features. his tall, slender frame moves with a predatory grace, and his voice—smooth as velvet—wraps around you like a dark lullaby.
he loves to watch you sleep, marvelling at your vulnerability. He’ll slip into your room at night, not to harm you, but to leave gifts—a rose, a letter, or even a piece of jewellery from an unknown era.
the vampire despises anyone who captures your attention. Friends, family, or even strangers—they’re nothing but distractions. He may use his hypnotic gaze to erase their presence from your life.
he gets flustered when you show him kindness, like bandaging a wound he sustained in your defence. he tries to hide his blush, but his pale complexion betrays him.
the vampire is as elegant as he is dangerous, his presence suffocating yet alluring, like the pull of a siren's song on a lonely traveler at sea. his crimson eyes gleam in the dark, reflecting centuries of wisdom and hunger, but when he looks at you, they’re soft, desperate, and entirely devoted. you’re his obsession, his muse, his reason to exist in a world that has grown cold and lonely with age.
he first saw you during one of his midnight wanderings, his attention drawn by your scent, a sweet, intoxicating mix of vulnerability and warmth. you were an easy target at first—a stranger out on a walk, unassuming, untouched by the weight of the supernatural world. but then he watched you, from the shadows, and the hunger in him shifted. you weren’t just food, not in the way he expected. you were you.
his obsession grew quickly, a slow, crawling thing that nestled in his bones. he has a habit of appearing when you least expect it: slipping through your window as you sleep, standing at the end of a dark alley when you’re walking home, always close but never intrusive enough to harm you. he studies you with endless fascination, watching how you move, how you smile, how you react to the smallest moments of life. you are his everything.
he is a master manipulator, charming and patient, with a voice like silk and words that dance between honeyed promises and half-truths. he always knows just what to say, always seems to be exactly where you are, making sure you feel safe.
but beneath the charm is something ancient, something sharp—a predator who has learned how to play the long game to get what he wants. you are his, and he has all the time in the world to make sure you know it.
his jealousy is sharp and swift. the moment another person shows even the slightest interest in you, his eyes narrow, his smile turns colder. it doesn’t take much for him to make his presence known, weaving himself into your life, into your conversations, until the other person is left with nothing but fear or confusion. you are his, and he’ll ensure that no one else tries to stake their claim.
he doesn’t simply show his obsession through manipulation. he is far more intimate, far more human in the moments where he can let his guard down. he’ll leave you gifts—roses with petals as red as blood, antique trinkets from his many years of wandering, or old letters written in his perfect, flowing script.
he tries to convey his feelings subtly, his words wrapped in metaphors and promises, but they always come from the deepest part of his heart.
he’s possessive in the way only a centuries-old predator can be. he touches you often, with a hand to your cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, or lightly grazing your hand as if you might slip away at any moment.
he isn’t violent, not by nature, but his love is all-encompassing, wrapping itself around you like a snake squeezing its prey. you belong to him in every way, and he has no intention of letting you slip out of his grasp.
his dark powers allow him to watch you from afar, slipping into your dreams, invading the quiet moments of your subconscious. you’ll wake with his voice lingering in your mind, his whispers promises of eternity, of a life spent with him, of safety, beauty, and endless nights. he wants you to rely on him, to lean into his presence, to crave his touch, until you can’t imagine your life without him.
when you show kindness or affection toward him, his calm, elegant mask slips. his eyes soften, his voice trembles slightly, and he finds himself speechless.
he’s terrified of showing too much, of letting you see the raw hunger that lies beneath his smooth exterior, but he can’t stop himself. your smile, your laughter, it means everything to him, more than centuries of darkness and isolation ever could.
he would give you everything. his life, his immortality, his heart. but he struggles with the weight of his own nature—the bloodlust that lies just beneath his perfect, pale skin. he’s not just obsessed with you out of a need to control or dominate; he truly cares. he wants you safe, protected, happy. but his fear of losing you makes him cruel, calculating, and relentless.
you are his forever, and he has no intention of sharing you with anyone else, not with the world, not with time, not with destiny itself. his love is suffocating, but it is eternal, and as much as it terrifies him, he knows you’ll never escape his grasp. he’ll make sure of it.
his voice was like silk as dorian vale leaned against the window frame, his crimson eyes glinting in the moonlight
"you shouldn't be out here alone," dorian vale said smoothly, stepping closer, his voice as soft as a whisper. dorian vale’s gaze was piercing, unyielding, and you could feel every moment of his attention as he looked at you
he handed you a single red rose, his pale fingers delicate as he said, "for you, my dear.
his presence lingered, and you could feel dorian vale’s words in your bones as he whispered, "you were always meant to be mine."
the ghost
a shadowy figure with hollow eyes that glow faintly in the dark, the ghost is a tragic soul who found solace in your warmth. his attachment to you began when you unknowingly lingered in the house he haunts, speaking softly to the empty air as if sensing his presence.
alaric’s form is translucent, a faint, glowing silhouette that shifts and flickers like mist. his features are soft and hauntingly beautiful, with a melancholy that clings to him like a shadow.
his once-vivid eyes are now pale, like the reflection of a full moon in still water, and his long hair drifts around him as if caught in a gentle breeze. though incorporeal, he retains the faint shape of his elegant hands and tall, lean frame, an echo of the man he once was.
his presence feels like a cool touch on your skin, a constant, bittersweet reminder of his undying devotion.
he manipulates the environment to keep you close—doors creak shut when you try to leave, and objects mysteriously disappear, only to reappear where he wants you to stay.
if anyone hurts you, the ghost unleashes his wrath. lights flicker, temperatures drop, and your assailants are haunted until they’re too terrified to approach you again.
he’s deeply moved when you acknowledge him, even if it’s just a whisper to the air. your willingness to accept him, despite his incorporeal nature, solidifies his eternal devotion.
the ghost is a tragic, ethereal figure, bound to you by a love that death itself couldn’t sever. his form is translucent, shimmering faintly in the moonlight, and though he may no longer have a heartbeat, his emotions are as raw and overwhelming as they were in life. he exists in the liminal space between the living and the dead, obsessed with you in a way that is both haunting and heartbreakingly tender.
he doesn’t remember how or when it started—only that one day, he found himself drawn to you, unable to leave your side. whether it was your voice, your laughter, or the way you brought life to even the smallest, most mundane moments, you became his light in the suffocating darkness of his afterlife. he watches you from the corners of rooms, a faint chill in the air marking his presence, his spectral form always lingering just out of reach.
his love is quiet, but all-consuming. he whispers your name into the night when you sleep, his voice carried on the softest breeze. he rearranges small things in your home to make his presence known: a book left open to a meaningful passage, a flower you swore wasn’t there before resting on your windowsill. at first, it’s subtle—gentle signs that you’re never truly alone—but as his obsession deepens, the signs become harder to ignore.
jealousy eats away at him when others capture your attention. he can’t bear the thought of you being close to anyone else, of you laughing or smiling with someone who isn’t him. when you’re out, he follows you like a shadow, unseen but ever-present, and if someone gets too close, the air turns cold, the lights flicker, and an unshakable unease settles over them until they leave.
he craves your touch, but his incorporeal form makes it impossible. this frustrates him endlessly, and he spends nights lingering near you, reaching out as if he could somehow feel the warmth of your skin, the beat of your heart. his desperation leads him to try anything to bridge the gap between life and death, no matter the cost.
despite his possessiveness, he’s deeply protective. he uses his abilities to shield you from harm, warding off danger with an almost primal ferocity. if someone threatens you, they’ll find themselves plagued by unexplainable misfortunes—objects falling, shadows moving, and an unrelenting sense of being watched. he doesn’t harm them directly, but his presence is enough to terrify even the boldest.
when he speaks to you, it’s with a voice like the echo of a forgotten melody, soft and tinged with sorrow. he tells you things you shouldn’t know—secrets from your past, glimpses of your future, things only someone who’s been watching you so intimately could know. he wants you to feel his devotion, his undying love, even if it frightens you.
there’s a tragic loneliness to him. he knows he can never truly be with you, not in the way he desires, and this realization drives him to the edge of despair. his love is obsessive, yes, but it’s also painfully pure—an eternal yearning for a connection he can never fully have.
if you acknowledge him, his devotion only deepens. the smallest smile, a whispered “thank you” into the empty room, is enough to make his entire existence worthwhile. he clings to these moments, replaying them endlessly in his mind, as they are his only solace in an eternity of longing.
he follows you everywhere, unseen but ever-present, his translucent form flickering in the corner of your eye or casting a fleeting shadow against the wall. at first, his presence is subtle, almost unnoticeable: the faint creak of floorboards when no one else is home, a cold breeze brushing against your skin, the lingering feeling that someone is watching you. but as his obsession deepens, his presence grows stronger, more impossible to ignore.
he learns everything about you. the way you hum absentmindedly when you’re focused, the scent of your favorite tea, the books you read late into the night. he listens to the sound of your heartbeat as you sleep, a steady rhythm that lulls him into a state of peace he hasn’t felt since he was alive. he treasures these moments, hoarding every detail about you like precious relics of a life he can never fully be part of.
his jealousy is a storm that rages within him. when others come into your life, his calm demeanor shatters. he can’t bear the thought of you sharing your smiles, your laughter, or your attention with anyone else. the air around you grows colder when someone he deems a threat is near, and they often find themselves inexplicably uneasy in your presence. lights flicker, objects fall, and whispers echo in the corners of the room, driving them away with a fear they can’t explain.
but with you, he is soft, almost fragile. he speaks to you in whispers, his voice carrying the faint echo of a forgotten melody, full of longing and sorrow. "don’t be afraid," he murmurs into the quiet of the night. "i’ll always protect you." his words are laced with an aching devotion, a promise to guard you from harm, even if you don’t fully understand where the comfort is coming from.
he leaves you gifts, though he has no tangible hands to place them. a single white flower on your windowsill that wasn’t there the night before, an old, weathered book that appeared on your desk, or a faint message written in the condensation on your mirror. they’re tokens of his affection, his way of reminding you that you’re not alone, even when he can’t be seen.
despite his protectiveness, he’s painfully aware of his limitations. his incorporeal form frustrates him to no end—he longs to touch you, to hold you, to feel the warmth of your hand in his, but the barrier between life and death is unyielding. he spends countless hours watching you, reaching out with ghostly fingers that pass through you, yearning for a connection he can never truly have.
he’s haunted by the memory of what it felt like to be alive, to love and be loved in return. his obsession with you is his only solace in a world of emptiness, but it also drives him to desperation. he begins searching for ways to bridge the gap between your worlds, delving into the supernatural, seeking answers, rituals, or bargains that might bring him closer to you.
when you acknowledge him, even in the smallest ways, it’s everything to him. a whispered “thank you” when you notice the flower he left, a hesitant glance toward the flickering light he caused—it fills him with a joy so profound it nearly breaks him. he clings to these moments, replaying them endlessly in his mind, as they are the only proof that he still exists to you.
his love is all-consuming, a desperate and eternal yearning that leaves no room for anything else. he doesn’t just want to protect you; he wants to be with you, to share in your life, to have a place in your heart. he knows his love is overwhelming, even suffocating, but he can’t stop. you’re his reason for lingering in this world, the one thing that makes his cursed existence bearable.
in his more vulnerable moments, he confesses his feelings, his voice trembling with a sorrow that spans lifetimes. "i’m sorry," he whispers, his spectral form flickering like a dying flame. "i didn’t mean for this to happen. but i can’t let go. i won’t." his words are both a plea and a promise, a declaration of a love that will haunt you forever.
his devotion is eternal, unyielding, and consuming. he doesn’t see his obsession as wrong; to him, it’s the purest form of love, a connection that transcends life and death. and though his presence may sometimes frighten you, you can’t deny the strange comfort it brings, the knowledge that someone—something—is always watching over you. he is yours, now and forever, and nothing, not even death, will change that.
you are his reason for lingering in this world, his obsession, his eternity.
alaric drifts soundlessly through the walls, his form a faint shimmer of light that barely disturbs the air
"you called for me," he whispers, his voice like the rustle of leaves on a quiet night. he hovers just out of reach, his longing evident in the way he watches you with those hollow, mournful eyes
every creak of the floorboards, every cool breeze brushing your skin—it’s alaric, a constant, invisible guardian, desperate for you to feel his presence.
the demon
with horns curling from his head, molten eyes, and a smirk that could tempt even the purest soul, the demon is as charming as he is dangerous. he first appeared to you when you were at your lowest, offering power and protection—but only if you stayed by his side.
azrael is striking in his infernal elegance, his beauty sharp and dangerous like a blade. his obsidian horns curl menacingly from his head, gleaming faintly in the firelight, and his jet-black hair is cropped just enough to frame his angular face.
his glowing amber eyes burn with an intensity that’s both mesmerizing and terrifying, framed by dark lashes that soften their predatory edge. his physique is perfectly sculpted, with broad shoulders and sinewy muscle wrapped in dark tattoos that pulse faintly with infernal energy.
a long, spaded tail flicks behind him, a subtle testament to his demonic nature, while his sharp, claw-like fingers could destroy—or cradle.
he infiltrates your dreams, filling them with his voice and his image so that you can never forget him. no matter how far you try to run, he’s always there, whispering promises of eternal love.
the demon doesn’t share. he’ll make deals or threats to ensure no one else dares approach you. his flames flare dangerously when he senses competition.
when you challenge his overbearing nature, he’s secretly thrilled. Your fiery defiance makes him want you even more. but when you show fear or sadness, he’s quick to reassure you with surprising tenderness.
the demon is a dangerous enigma, a being forged in fire and darkness who is utterly captivated by you. his obsession burns hotter than the flames of his infernal home, an all-consuming desire that transcends mortal understanding.
he’s not a creature of softness or restraint—his love is raw, primal, and possessive, and he would raze the world to ash if it meant keeping you by his side.
he first noticed you in a moment of vulnerability, a flicker of something pure and radiant that pierced through his otherwise unrelenting darkness. maybe it was your kindness, your resilience, or even your imperfections—whatever it was, it stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in centuries.
for a demon who thrives on power and domination, this feeling was alien, unsettling, and exhilarating.
at first, he tried to ignore it. love, after all, is a weakness—a chain that binds. but the more he watched you, the deeper he sank. you consumed his thoughts, invaded his dreams, and stirred emotions he didn’t even know he was capable of. the line between fascination and obsession blurred, and before long, you became the center of his world, his greatest desire and his ultimate possession.
his presence is overwhelming, even when he isn’t visible. the air grows heavy when he’s near, crackling with an unnatural energy that makes your skin tingle. shadows twist and writhe in the corners of your vision, and faint whispers echo in your mind, promises of devotion spoken in a voice as smooth as velvet.
he’s not above manipulating your emotions to keep you close. he knows exactly how to twist words, how to play on your fears and insecurities, all while making it seem like he’s your only sanctuary. "no one will love you the way i do," he purrs, his voice a blend of seduction and menace. "no one will protect you like i can."
jealousy consumes him with a ferocity that borders on madness. he doesn’t tolerate anyone vying for your attention or affection. if someone dares to come too close, they often meet with mysterious misfortunes—car accidents, sudden illnesses, or even inexplicable disappearances. he doesn’t see these acts as cruel; in his mind, he’s simply ensuring that no one can take you from him.
despite his darkness, his love for you is genuine in its own twisted way. he’s incapable of expressing it in soft or traditional ways, but his devotion is absolute.
he treasures every interaction with you, every fleeting smile, every word you speak to him. he hoards these moments like a dragon hoards gold, replaying them endlessly in his mind.
he’s endlessly fascinated by your humanity—the way your emotions shift like the tides, the fragility of your body, the warmth of your skin. he often marvels at how delicate you are compared to him, a creature of immense power and near-immortality. this contrast only deepens his obsession; you’re a treasure, a rare and precious thing in a world of chaos and darkness.
when he does reveal himself to you, it’s always dramatic and intentional. he thrives on your reactions, whether it’s fear, awe, or even anger. he’ll step out from the shadows, his horns catching the dim light, his dark eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity. "you belong to me," he’ll say, his voice leaving no room for argument. it’s not a question, not a plea—it’s a declaration, an unshakable truth in his mind.
he uses his demonic powers to bind himself to you in ways both subtle and overt. you might find strange symbols etched into the corners of your room, or feel an inexplicable pull toward him that you can’t resist. he’s always there, in your dreams, in your thoughts, in the very fabric of your reality.
but for all his power and confidence, there’s a vulnerability beneath his fiery exterior. he’s terrified of losing you, of you rejecting him or finding someone else.
it’s a fear he doesn’t understand, one that gnaws at him and drives him to even greater extremes. he’ll do anything to keep you, even if it means breaking every rule, defying the laws of heaven and hell, and binding your soul to his for eternity.
in his own way, he tries to be gentle with you. he knows his nature frightens you, that his obsession can be overwhelming, so he tempers his intensity—at least, as much as a demon is capable of. he’ll appear to you in dreams, his voice soft, his touch feather-light, weaving fantasies of a life where you’re his and his alone.
but make no mistake—his love is as dangerous as it is consuming. he doesn’t see you as a partner, but as something to be claimed, protected, and possessed. you’re his light in the darkness, his one weakness, and he would destroy anyone—or anything—that threatens to take you from him.
"i’ll burn this world to the ground for you," he tells you, his voice a low growl, his eyes glowing with an intensity that’s equal parts terrifying and mesmerizing. "just say the word."
to him, you’re not just his obsession—you’re his salvation, the one thing that makes his existence bearable. his love is eternal, fierce, and utterly inescapable, binding you to him in ways you might never fully understand. you are his everything, and he will stop at nothing to make sure you remain his. forever.
azrael appears in a flicker of shadows and embers, his smirk sharp enough to cut
"did you miss me?" he purrs, his voice dripping with sinful charm. his burning gaze never leaves yours, an intensity that feels like it could consume your very soul
when he steps closer, the scent of smoke and spice fills the air, and the room grows impossibly warm
"you can’t escape me, little one," he murmurs, his words a promise and a threat all at once.
the sea monster
a towering creature with scales that shimmer in the moonlight and eyes as deep as the ocean, the sea monster saved you from drowning during a storm. since then, he’s watched you from the water’s edge, longing to pull you into his world.
his body a perfect blend of human and sea creature. his skin shimmers with an iridescent sheen, scales glinting faintly with hues of green, blue, and silver that shift like sunlight on water. his long, flowing hair resembles seaweed, dark and sleek, cascading down his back in waves.
his eyes glow faintly, like bioluminescent creatures of the deep, their piercing intensity revealing his ancient power. his hands are webbed and tipped with sharp, claw-like nails, and his muscular frame is marked with jagged scars from battles in the ocean’s depths. his lower half bears fins that ripple with movement, giving him a grace that belies his massive size.
he collects things you’ve touched—seashells, pieces of cloth, even footprints in the sand. his underwater lair is filled with these treasures, each arranged like a shrine.
he hates when you leave the shore. If you venture too far inland, he’ll create storms or tidal waves to draw you back to him.
he becomes surprisingly bashful when you willingly approach the water to speak to him. your trust in him, despite his monstrous appearance, makes his heart swell.
the sea monster is an ancient being, born of the ocean’s depths, where sunlight never reaches. his obsession with you is as vast and unfathomable as the waters he calls home—a love born of isolation, mystery, and an insatiable hunger for connection. to him, you are his beacon, a rare and precious light in the endless darkness of his world, and he is utterly captivated by you.
his first encounter with you was serendipitous—a chance meeting by the shore, or perhaps a daring moment when you ventured too close to the water’s edge. he saw you, a fragile creature of the land, and was instantly enthralled.
your movements, your laughter, even the way the sunlight caught in your hair—all of it was alien and beautiful to him. from that moment, you became his fixation, his reason to rise from the depths.
he watches you from the water, his massive form concealed beneath the waves, his glowing eyes ever watchful. at first, his presence is subtle—the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, the inexplicable pull of the tide whenever you’re near.
but as his obsession deepens, his signs become harder to ignore. strange treasures wash ashore: seashells, polished stones, and other trinkets that seem too deliberately placed to be coincidences.
he is a creature of contradictions. his love for you is as tender as it is overwhelming, and while he longs to be near you, he’s painfully aware of his monstrous appearance. his body is a fusion of scales, fins, and sinewy muscle, a form designed to survive in the crushing pressure of the deep sea. he fears your rejection, that you will see him as a monster rather than the devoted being he has become.
despite this, he can’t help but draw closer. when you venture into the water, he’s there, just beneath the surface, his presence a dark shadow that follows you. he revels in these moments, the closeness, the illusion that he’s part of your world. the saltwater clings to your skin, and it drives him mad with desire—it’s as though the ocean itself is marking you as his.
his jealousy is as fierce as a storm at sea. anyone who dares to draw too near to you risks his wrath. fishermen speak of sudden squalls that rise from nowhere, boats overturned by unseen forces, and sailors vanishing into the depths. he doesn’t see it as cruelty; to him, it’s protection. the ocean is his domain, and no one else has the right to take what belongs to him.
he dreams of pulling you into his world, of making you his in every way. the thought of you joining him beneath the waves consumes him, and he begins to weave fantasies of a life together in the depths—a palace of coral and bioluminescent light, where you would be his queen, his eternal companion.
but he knows it’s impossible, and this knowledge torments him. he can’t survive on land for long, and you can’t live beneath the water. this barrier between your worlds drives him to desperation. he begins seeking forbidden rituals and ancient magic, anything that might allow him to bridge the gap and bring you into his realm—or transform himself into something that can walk beside you on the shore.
when he speaks, his voice is a low, resonant rumble, like the distant crash of waves on a rocky shore. his words are filled with longing and reverence, a declaration of a love that spans the vastness of the ocean. "you are my light," he murmurs, his glowing eyes fixed on you. "without you, i am nothing but the endless dark."
his love is consuming, a tidal wave that sweeps away everything in its path. he doesn’t understand restraint or boundaries; to him, love is absolute, and his devotion to you is all-encompassing. he sees your hesitations, your fears, but he can’t stop himself. you are the first thing in centuries to stir his cold, ancient heart, and he will not let you go.
when you acknowledge his presence, even in the smallest ways—a whispered word to the sea, a touch to one of the treasures he’s left for you—his heart swells with a joy so profound it’s almost painful. he clings to these moments, replaying them in his mind during the long hours when he’s alone in the depths, waiting for the chance to see you again.
his protectiveness is as fierce as his love. the ocean itself seems to bend to his will, rising to shield you from harm. storms part in your wake, currents carry you safely to shore, and even the most fearsome predators of the deep seem to bow before you. you are his everything, and he will guard you with a ferocity that defies nature itself.
but there’s a darkness to his love, a possessiveness that borders on madness. he doesn’t just want you to love him; he wants you to need him, to see him as the only one who can protect and cherish you. "the land will never understand you as i do," he tells you, his voice a low growl, the waves crashing behind him. "they will never love you as i do."
his obsession is eternal, as deep and unyielding as the ocean itself. you are his heart, his treasure, his reason for rising to the surface. and though his love may be overwhelming, even frightening, there’s a strange beauty in it—a devotion so pure and unshakable that it defies the boundaries of worlds. you are his, now and always, and he will never let the tide carry you away.
mio watches from the waves, his body a dark silhouette against the moonlit water. when you finally meet his gaze, he speaks your name like it’s a prayer, his voice low and reverent
"you don’t belong to the land," he says, his tone both pleading and possessive. "the ocean calls to you. i call to you.
his fingers trail through the water, creating ripples that mirror the emotions surging in his chest—desire, devotion, and an unshakable determination to make you his.
while each monster is fiercely possessive, they begrudgingly tolerate each other’s presence because they all agree on one thing: your happiness comes first.
you’re not just a human to them—you’re their everything. whether you accept their twisted love or try to escape, one thing is certain: they’ll never let you go. you’ve awakened something primal and eternal in their hearts, and no force on earth or beyond could sever the bonds they’ve forged with you.
Just imaginin a late night walk, clearing your mind, Y’know it was a bad idea especially durin matin season but what’s the worst that could happen to a man like ya self?… oh were you jus shocked when a tall lanky beast pulled you off your path, drool foaming past its lips dripping down its chin with its claws tearin up your pretty lil sweater having you all exposed laying helpless underneath him, it’s cock errect and leakin a puddle on the grass while its veins protrude N’ pulse all needy— the monster was so hard it was painful
Jus imaginin having a monster on top of you, pinnin you down face down N’ tha leafs with his cock pounding inside you, your rim all spread around him sloppily with a slick sound while he grunts N’ huffs in your ear bout puttin a baby in you talkin bout how he “needs T’ make young” or you “giving offspring”, he doesn’t even care if you don’t have a pussy, a hole is a hole and he’ll use em all- minus the mouth- he needs T’ save his seed N’ pump it all inside your hole to make sure you’re nice N’ well bred
Jus imaginin the monster having you all broken and doll like heaving N’ gripping onto a tree for dear life while his claws paw at your tummy groaning tryin to make you understand he needs to pus something inside your nonexistent womb! Why can’t ya jus see he only wants what’s best— his teeth in your neck letting out whines of frustration while he pounds into you makin sharp pains roll down your thighs into your calves from all the blows your prostate was takin from that bulbous tip.
Jus imaginin limpin away from that encounter leakin cum all down your thighs with your hole ruined unable to clench up anymore- thinkin you’re free from the monster but nope he follows you back home clingin to you- that wasn’t jus sex to him that was a whole matin caroming- you’re his now N’ he has young to raise in your tummy…that’s weird? Why can’t his seed take to you? Why aren’t you pregnant yet— did he not give you enough seed to reproduce— he’ll just have to give you more N’ breed you over until you’re finally knocked up.
In which Connor analyses the success rate of his confession to you.
Completely unedited, and written in one sitting. Happy New Year guys. We're officially 13 years to 2038.
If Connor could put a name to this "emotion" he was feeling, it would be "excitement" or perhaps "anticipation", possibly even a mix of both. He had spent countless hours and days researching your preferences and interests down to the very last detail. Which was why, when he walked out of the flower shop, he was extremely confident you would love the bouquet arrangement he got you.
It was meant to be a gift, a token of appreciation and a confession of his desire to be with you. Not just as a work partner, but as something more. Especially now that proper android laws and regulations have passed, more android-human relationships have emerged since the Jericho protest. There would be no shame nor reason for an aversion to a relationship between you and him. If he could place a number on it, there would be a 90% chance that you would receive his gift with pleasure, and a 70% chance of success of his confession.
But maybe he should have accounted for the fact that it wasn't a complete 100% chance after all. An unpredicted variable had entered his simulations. An individual, who like him, had planned to gift you a bouquet.
Before he rounded the corner to reveal himself, he paused, scanning the bouquet and the individual.
Flowers. Not even your favourite ones. The tag on it indicated that it was bought from a cheap supermarket. Its estimated price was less than $20. Ridiculous. The bouquet Connor got was leagues ahead of the arrangement he procured for you.
Connor scoffed. This prick actually thought they would have a chance with something that shabby?
He then scanned the individual's face. Ah, one of the new officers in the precinct. The officer displayed signs of nervousness and anxiety. Understandable, considering what they were attempting to do.
Connor had enough. He had gained enough information to understand that this officer was not worthy of your love or reciprocation of their feelings. They had no right to be called yours.
"Officer Riley," Connor spoke up, casually sauntering up to the two of you, as if he wasn't behind the pillar just minutes ago analysing every single detail. The young officer turned around, face red. The bouquet in their hands was still untouched. You seemed apprehensive. Connor felt relieved.
"O-Officer Connor! This- this is a surprise!" the young officer exclaimed. Connor barely spared the individual a glance and nod before turning to you, a pleasant smile on his synthetic face.
"Hi Connor, glad to see you," you greeted him with a smile. "Officer Riley here was just um, relaying some information on a recent case. A personal one, if you don't mind."
Connor shook his head, "Of course not. Please, Officer Riley. Don't mind me, and go ahead with your proposition. Wouldn't want those flowers of yours to go to waste, after all... Not like you spent much on them." Officer Riley's mouth fell open at his remark. You seemed similarly stunned.
Oh dear, perhaps he should have held his tongue. He couldn't help but let slip that little comment. An irrational choice, unfortunately.
"Wh- I- This- this was the best I could get!" Officer Riley protested, but the damage was done. Their face was still flushed from embarassment, and before either could react, they stuffed the bouquet into your arms and ran off. Connor could only shake his head in disapproval. Truly. It was astounding that they even had the courage to approach you, and think themselves worthy of you.
Your eyes fell to him, your lips pressed into dismay. "Connor... that was harsh. Officer Riley was only sharing their admiration, it was a nice gesture from them..." you said, holding the bouquet of flowers tenderly. Connor narrowed his eyes.
"Perhaps it is... Regardless, that bouquet definitely will not compare to the one I got you." You raised your eyebrow in confusion, before you were met with an array of all your favourite flora, arranged with the eye of a professional, and clearly tailored to your exact preferences. A level of perfection only achievable by an android.
"Connor! You- what is this for?"
Connor smiled, his eyes looking away abashedly. "It is a gift. A declaration of my love and care for you, Officer [Name]. A symbol of my desire to deepen our bond. Would you... will you accept it?" his voice was hopeful, and although you knew it was part of his program, it still hit you right in your heart.
"I- I... I don't know what to say, Connor. This is all very sudden..."
Connor nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry if I shocked you. I thought you would have seen this coming months ago..."
You shook your head, "No, I- I mean, yes I didn't think this would happen... I just- I think I should go, Connor. Thank you for the flowers. I appreciate it..." you said, before taking the bouquet and tucking the two large flower arrangements under your arms and scurrying off.
Once you were out of sight, Connor frowned. He should have accounted for that 30% chance of failure. Oh well. He had plenty of time to increase those odds. First, he just needed to deal with a certain bright-eyed naive officer.
His darling was either someone who lived in the village or was another lord made by Mother Miranda. Those two possible meetings means he can take his time when not only learning about them but being around them. The small chance they aren't from the village or made from Mother Miranda then he would take them immediately.
Stalking/After Meeting:
He does stalk them heavily, taking notes and learning about them as much as he can. There are times when he will come out of hiding to mess with them or as a sort of power move that he can be anywhere at any time.
Kidnapping:
If his charm doesn't work his plan B will be to just take them. Sure it may be at that moment and he may just try a bit longer to charm them but it will happen eventually.
Punishments:
His punishments can be harsh and can either be quick or long depending on what his darling did. Although he doesn't like to punish his darling he will get his point across.
Relationship:
The relationship does have the chance to be somewhat normal. Karl is a very charming man in his own right and is more than willing to swap his darling off their feet but that's only if they are willing to be his.
Random headcanons:
In the beginning when he first meets his darling he may not think too much of them but as time goes on he notices things about them that catches his eye. How soft or smart they are or how powerful or weak they are.
It will take him a while to fully accept how he feels about his darling.
He is going to be going back and forth about his feelings as he is hiding behind a rock watching them go about their day.
No matter how hopeless it may be he won't ever let his darling go.
AU:
Pirate:
He is a greedy pirate that goes and does what he wishes. After finally being free to leave the island that kept him in prison for so long he means to live his life how he wants. So when a mermaid/man comes along or someone just trying to live their own life on an island he just so happens to come upon who is he to leave them behind?
Future:
In truth he just wants a normal life with his darling. One where they can both be happy together and not nothing else but each other.
He didn't see himself as a freak, but what man does? He was a young, horny man. How could he not be so... enamored when you're here? You're absolutely breath taking and he wants you so bad. God he would do anything for just a taste... He wants anything really, even just a slight picture- Hell even a hint of your thigh a little to high gets him going. How can he focus on college when you're driving him mad.
Moments like this made him so happy to be a frat. Girls coming to their parties looking for an easy lay. If they looked like you, he was on them like dogs- Even just the same hair color. He couldn't help himself, he was down like a dog.
You made him crazy and he didn't know why you did this to him. You were such a tease and you knew it. Okay, well maybe you didn't know it, but still, no other girl made him like this- Just you.
He feels like a pathetic dog when he sees you. Has to fight the urge to bark like some teenager. UGH, why won't you just sleep with him? Don't you like his dick pics? God he just wants to stuff you so full.
He's slept with one of your roommates, just so he could get in your dorm room and steal some of your underwear. Anyone else would have felt disgusting by the action, but it gave him immense pleasure to steal something like that from you. It gave him rush, not only down there. He wants to do it again- And he does, though the next time he doesn't sleep with that stupid whore of a roommate you have.
And when he's got it, he's jerking off with it. If he's lucky enough, if does it in either your bed and/or room. He's never cummed so hard in his life. He even takes dick pics and jerk off shots for you in your room and it gets him so excited that you don't know that he's in your room.
Boop boop. Heeeey little sibling. (Don’t know how you feel about being called little bro anymore so new way to pester you! Hooray!!!)
You better be taking care of yourself. I don’t mind hiking up north to come visit you if you haven’t and I will personally terrorize you with self care messages like a cliche candy wrapper.
Love you lots, thinking of you and sending strong vibes
Have a Heisey
Thank you so much, truth be told i hacnt been on tumblr in so long. Been so busy constantly and since my account went poof less reason to be on more frequently. I dont mind being called a sibling, i appreciate yu being considerate of that stuff.
The color composition is exquisite. Just could not have been designed better to elevate him to sainthood. A+ failure to plan, NYPD. Also, I cannot get over how the safety glasses on the lead comically-overarmed choad make him look like a Central Casting item reading "guy who thinks he's a badass but everyone knows he's a fuckup who'll lose his shit and make a high-pitched scream as soon as anything happens".
The visual composition of picture #3 is indistinguishable from classical art. Once again, news photographers are absolutely proving how fantastically good they are at their jobs (and how fantastically artistic they are).
Love your writing on Fear and Hunger! Can I ask for a scenario/short where the Kaiser (Legarde) finds Darling reincarnated in Termina? They died such a long time ago, surely he won't let them get away from him time.
Considering the soul system in F&H... This seems plausible, actually.
Rebirth
Yandere! Kaiser (Le'Garde) Short
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Murder, Blood, Delusional behavior, Intimate implications (nothing happens, just mentions it as you were flings), Stalking, Forced relationship.
Everyone has a soul that reflects who they are.
The Kaiser, once known as Le'Garde, has grown familiar with such occult things. Every person has a soul that allows them certain abilities. Some subjects even share the same soul type... possibly through blood...
Or even reincarnation.
The Kaiser, once all these contestants came for the festival, sensed a familiar presence he knew long ago. It was unnerving at first.... Such a presence brought back memories of a vulnerable time.
That presence... It reminds him of those dreaded dungeons. Those dungeons that made him reborn again into a new god.... He suffered in those dungeons...
But he didn't recall suffering alone.
No, when he was still a typical unenlightened mortal, he had companions in those dungeons. Most of them he considered pawns. However, there was one he deemed worthy of his attention.
You, a poor soul exploring the dungeons, had come to his aid. He originally thought you foolish... yet frustratingly appealing. You and him had grown close in those dungeons.
Le'Garde was normally never one for love. He had his eyes set on greater things. He didn't even recognize D'arce's feelings. Yet, with you... deep in those cold and bloody dungeons.
You managed to get him out of his armor more than once when you were alone.
To Le'Garde and most likely you, they were Sylvian flings. Just a way to find comfort in those dungeons while surviving. It wasn't about love...
That's... what he tells himself... yet back then he kept approaching you for more.
Did he like you more than he thought?
Before Le'Garde could sort out such feelings, his plan was set in motion. He was made to be a God, one way or another. Although... by the end of it...
He never saw you again.
As The Kaiser, he had not thought of such thoughts until now. It was only when he was reminded of your presence that he looked back on his feelings. He shouldn't be thinking of this...
You died long ago....
Yet, as though fate guided your soul, your soul somehow made it back here. The Kaiser was already wary of the contestants on that train. He had enemies hunting him down...
But he also saw someone similar to you... He could sense it was you.
This was your soul.
The soul of the one he felt was rightly his.
Naturally, The Kaiser felt drawn to you. It was though his own soul ached for you once again. He felt oddly... giddy at the idea of finding his love again.
It's amusing to him.... He thought he forgot this feeling. Yet the moment he feels your soul close to his he's desperate. You have so much power over a god such as him...
Even if you no longer know him.
Ah, yes, a problematic thought. The idea of you nor remembering echoes in his mind. However... surely once you feel his presence...
You'll remember.
In this place and new age... in this festival... you didn't stand a chance alone. The Kaiser knew this... but just like in those dungeons, you put together a team of contestants to help you. Although... by the time you feel confident enough to challenge Rher or escape this place...
The Kaiser appears before you... sword drawn with a snake slithering around his neck...
Before you knew it, you're overpowered, not equipped enough to challenge him.
The stench of blood is oddly familiar, even if you haven't encountered anything like it from what you remember. The sight of this... being in front of you sends chills down your spine. Yet you cannot tell why.
You feel nauseous when The Kaiser slowly but surely slaughters those you called friends. Even that feels familiar... along with the blood on your clothes. You truly never stood a chance...
Why does this all feel—
"Do you remember me?" The Kaiser asks, towering over you. He doesn't seem to care much that you're laying in the blood of your friends. Their corpses are grotesque... just like the rest of this hell.
"Don't you feel it too? Our souls that were once bound together. I don't think I could forget you if I tried...."The Kaiser murmurs, as if reminiscing on a distant memory.
He sounds nostalgic... yet you just sob.
"Please— Please, I'm sorry! Spare me...." You plead, sensing the end was near for you. Except...
The Kaiser merely chuckles, as if what you said was cute.
"Spare you? Of course I'm sparing you, my consort." The Kaiser grins, eyes gleaming under his yellow hood. "After all... Why would I kill you when I've just found you again?"
"I don't know you... what are you trying to do?" You try to get answers, but The Kaiser merely clicks his tongue.
"Oh, love, you'll remember soon enough. You'll remember the dungeons, you'll remember the blood... the danger... the passion... but most importantly..." The Kaiser coos, stalking closer before grabbing your bloody hand and yanking you to your feet.
"You're going to remember me. You'll soon remember me as your love and you'll never abandon me. You'll be my consort, as you were always meant to be." The Kaiser hums, not minding your fearful yet desperate attempts to pull away.
"Consort? No— Let go—!" You struggle, yet The Kaiser merely drags you close to him. His touch and skin feels oddly cold...
The thought of following him scares you on a primal level.
"No, my consort. We were always meant to be together in all lifetimes." The Kaiser growls, pulling you close to his side. "I need you to follow me, love... we have a lot to catch up on. You may be scared... but don't worry..."
The Kaiser chuckles again, squeezing your side as you tremble and walk.
"I'll make you remember what we were and who you belong to... and I'll never let you go again."
Yandere SCP 079 with Emotional! Darling? In your og concept his obsession started because he doesn't hurt their feelings, how about opposite, where he's obsessed with their tears instead? Poor darling continues to be send to scp 079 because their meetings produce interesting results
Welp... Hope you like crying. Because it certainly does.
