#dear x reader

[peachyprophets-blog]

The World you belong to

(Yandere!Gachiakuta x Isekaied!Reader)

A/N: Hello, I'm sorry it's been so long since the last Gachiauta fic, but I've had very little motivation. But I'm trying to be more active. (The younger ones lien Dear,Amo, Rudo, etc. Are Platonic!!!)

cw: Typical yandere behavior, obsession, unhealthy relationships, depression, loneliness, dark thoughts, crossing boundaries. (I wanted to offer a different perspective on this fiction, where this situation is portrayed differently.)

Time dragged on in this world; each day felt like a new day in captivity, where each of these people wanted to possess you. It was a never-ending cycle; you weren't aware if it had been days, months, or years since you ended up with the Cleaners. You were occasionally kidnapped by the raiders, but it didn't make much of a difference, and when the others "rescued" you, you were pulled back into that pit of despair.

Not a day went by without at least one of these people clinging to you and demanding your attention, often ENJIN, ZANKA, RUDO, and RIYO. The whole of Team Akuta couldn't be without you. ENJIN always had an arm around your waist or shoulder while the rest of the team hovered around you. When you were alone, it was ENJIN who planted kisses on your neck, shoulders, and lips. Your disgust for him grew stronger every day he forced himself on you, every day he confessed his love, and every day his hands rested on you. You started hiding from the others, hoping to find a moment to yourself. What you didn't know was that even when you escaped TEAM AKUTA, you were never truly alone. TAMSY, FU, AMO, DEAR; AUGUST or GRIS will find you in every hiding place, which increasingly diminishes your hope.

When you're lost in your dark thoughts, sinking into depression and seemingly losing the meaning of life, a warm light envelops you, bringing you to the safety of CORVUS's office. CORVUS isn't like others; he doesn't impose himself, he's simply there for you without saying much. One of his large hands rests on your back, massaging you in gentle circles that allow you to relax. When he's with you, you can let go, let the tears flow, and simply allow your emotions to take over. "I know you want to go home, but we can't let you go." This shattered your hope, but knowing you could at least trust Corvus gave you back even the smallest glimmer of hope. When CORVUS noticed you had calmed down in his arms, he leaned back in his chair. He knew perfectly well that none of the others would dare disturb you now, not even the younger ones.

More time passed. TAMSY sat behind you, combing your hair. Days had gone by since you had come to his room. Soft music played from the radio on the small table next to his bed. All this affection no longer felt real. At first, it had been wonderful to finally be loved, to have friends, and to have someone who truly liked you, but now? It felt empty and meaningless. Looking out the window, you could even feel the Watchman's gaze, the pitying look he was giving you. Wait, Watchman? "What is the "Watchman?" This question momentarily threw TAMSY off balance. How did you know about him? What was your plan? After a brief hesitation, he turned you to him with a smile and gently stroked your cheeks, his cold fingers sending a shiver down your spine. "I have no idea, but I only know that Rudo wears part of the 'Watchman' collection and is collecting it to return to the Sphere and kill his father's murderer." The way TAMSY said this made you feel uneasy. With a slight nod, you went to the radio to escape his touch and change the tune to a heavy metal song.

One day, you accompanied some of the Cleaners to Canvas Town. They needed protective spells for their next mission, spells that could be applied to a spellcaster named REMLIN.

REMLIN gave you a plush toy that they had found. While the others were busy with the spell, you managed to sneak onto the roof. Your thoughts turned dark again, tears streamed down your cheeks, and you clutched your stuffed animal as if it could heal your loneliness. Without realizing it, you moved closer and closer to the edge. "(NAME)?" Someone turned you around, but before you could see who it was, you only saw the sky as your body plummeted into the abyss, and then everything went black.

With a throbbing head, you opened your eyes. Your body lay on a soft bed, wrapped in warm blankets. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, your gaze drifted to the wall, illuminated by a small lamp. A person stood there, seemingly watching you.

"I know how you'll get home."

ZODYL TYPHON

[gachihive]

Weekend Routines

Bro x platonic Reader (for now lol), Dear x Reader

Hallo, just throwing another Bro x reader story out there. There's no warnings here, just some fluff. Enjoy!

Look at their hair and tell me you don't want to play with them!

Devider by: @pixopix

There's a routine you've started with Dear, not intentionally, it was just something you had randomly decided to do after bumping into him on a few weekend mornings, now what had started as a quick hair brushing in the mornings had evolved into you two sitting in the common room sharing a plate of breakfast and watching TV while you methodically did his hair in his signature tuffs.

Of course, when someone starts a new routine, people tend to notice, like your coworkers or your friends. Or! A better example being: the father of the child who is currently sitting pretty at your feet. Who is exactly the person standing at the wide open doors, staring at you both with arms crossed. The look of: dad about to chastise his son replaced with one of surprise the moment he took in the food and hair supplies.

You grin sheepishly, waving at the man. He looked disheveled, hair wet, clothes haphazardly thrown on. It was clear he had rushed out looking for his son, he stillhad his towel thrown over his shoulder, but Dear didn't seem to care, staring down his old man, arms wrapping themselves around one of your legs. He looked like a pouting hedgehog.

"I'm so sorry Bro, I thought you knew." You sighed disappointed.

After the initial surprise of Bro bursting into the room and convincing Dear that he wasn't there to rip you away from him, you two had taken a moment to sit and talk. It turned out that since your routine had become established, you had become Dear's most prized secret, enough so that he had begun to sneak out when he realized that his dad had begun to suspect something was going on.

"No, it's my fault, I thought Guita had started doing his hair again and never thought to bring it up. I'm just glad it's you that he's warmed up to," the comment makes you preen. Everyone knew that Bro was a good, if a little overprotective dad, so any approval from him that had to do with his kids was a big deal.

"Alright buttercup," you turn to Dear, the boy looking up at you from his spot on ths floor, cheeks full of food.

"First rule of hair club: we don't talk about hair club, BUT!" You take hold of his cheeks. "More importantly, rule two: we don't keep secrets from Dad, okay? We've got to let Dad know where we're going... or bring him with you.....We can put bows in his hair." You laugh, joking, thinking that there was no way that Dear would take you seriously, but the next thing you know there's a heavy weight on your legs.

You don't know how quickly it happened, but suddenly Bro is sitting at your feet, his broad back pressed against your shins. You can't see his face, but the pinking of his ears gives away the fact that he's blushing. The culprit of it all, Dear, looks so pleased with himself as he climbs into Bro's lap, taking up the remote to continue watching his show, ignoring how his dad is trying to desperately move away.

"I'm so sorry, (Name)!" Bro stutters, trying to move away, but his hair looks so enticing. The want to feel it is pulling you in, just like how you wanted to brush Dear's cotton fluff hair.

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity that you landed yourself in.

"Don't apologize, did say to bring dad, well he brought you along." And the big man freezes as you reach over his shoulder tapping his son's arm to give you a brush.

"Now if you're okay with it I can do you hair too." You offer looking down at him cheekily, after a moment or two of trying to find what to say he just nods dumbly returning to leaning against your legs your hands already carding through his hair.

Now your weekend mornings have changed again, unintentionally. Your new routine is sitting in the common room, Dear sitting pleased at your feet as you go through sections of his fluffy hair and eating breakfast while a random show plays. As you tie off the last band, Bro will saunter in, still a bit sheepish, and hand you coffee or tea. He takes Dear's spot, the young boy moving to his dad's lap, more than happy to keep watching his show as you do Bro's hair and talk.