yandere prince! who you forgot could be as terrifying as he was right now.
"open the door [Name].." he whispered from the other side, and you nearly did.
god he was soo sweet right now, so ever lovingly gentle. and you knew. you knew that if you opened the door he would be nothing short of beautiful and sweet and everything you'd ever want him to be.
"i can hear you seeetheart, don't be scared, this isnt my blood anyway."
what a sickening thing to say. his blood or not you wouldn't be able to unsee the choked gurgling from the man your prince decided to partially decapitate.
"[Name], baby..don't fight with me please? I love you so fucking much, I would never hurt you and you know that.."
"I...you promise?"
Hook, line amd sinker.
"Just open the door i'll show you..."
You creaked the wooden board open by a sliver, Anoul immediately pulled you into his arms, uncaring that the blood from his clothes was melded into your chest now.
He didn't waste another second, pulling up your face into his lips and covering you in kisses. Rather bloody ones.
"My prince I–"
"My princess? Come." He cut you off by lifting you up and into the room you were just hiding in.
"[Name], you know you can never leave me, not even in death right?" His face was nose to nose with yours.
You didn't answer. Maybe because you didn't want to believe it, or maybe because you did.
YANDERE!BUTLER x GN!READER — gentle yandere / unwavering loyalty / suffocating devotion / controlling behaviour / social isolation / reader is his master / reader has poor health / instead of “i love you” he says “as you wish”
A/N: the concept of a yandere butler scratches an itch in my brain no other yandere can match
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 whom you hired right after you inherited your title and estate. Seeing his credentials, you hired him the second he stepped foot into your office. He was practically perfect. Though you had been trained for the role, you were still an inexperienced lord. You’d need all the help you could get, and it’d be such a waste if you let a talent like that slip away.
Not to mention... he’s really good looking.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who serves you impeccably. He picks up your schedule, your routine, and your habits within days, almost as if he had memorized them beforehand. He learns how you like your tea and coffee, the face you make when you’re stressed, and all the little, tiny details about you that’d make serving you that much easier.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who is respected by the entire estate. He treats everybody equally, regardless of position, with the same kind tone and warm smile that has many of the younger maids swooning. He is always there to lend a hand, no matter how busy he may be, and somehow, he always seems to get everything done perfectly.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who gradually replaces the household staff until none of the servants who are familiar with you remain. He makes sure that the new servants do not get close to you by twisting bits of the truth — that you are reserved, that you are incredibly busy, that you dislike people who chatter.
Eventually, your once lively manor turns into a quiet and lonely place. You don’t even know what caused that change, and you attribute it to the fact your parents are no longer around. They were always much more sociable than you were. Perhaps the new servants simply needed more time to warm up to you. (Though that would never happen, unbeknownst to you.)
And who do you turn to in the meantime?
Your loyal butler, of course.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who becomes your only companion in the massive ducal estate. As your trusted friend and confidante, he’s the first person you’d turn to whenever you had something to say. He never fails to listen with a patient smile, and always has a thoughtful response in return.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who ‘advises’ you on how to navigate high society. As the third son of a marquis, he was not named successor — nevertheless, he is also of noble blood, thus giving him experience in that field as well.
He warns you to be wary when interacting with the other nobles, as many may be looking to take advantage of an inexperienced lord like yourself. Not to mention, your high standing would inevitably cause many greedy eyes to be directed your way.
He stands by your side as you sift through all the letters you receive — invitations, proposals, friendly greetings and the like. The depth of his knowledge on the intricate workings of high society is surprisingly vast. He’ll readily inform you of which houses are corrupt, which families are feuding with each other, and which individuals it would be in your best interest to avoid.
“If I may add, attending Count Blackwood’s soiree would be a fair choice,” he suggests calmly. “The Blackwoods are known to be a neutral family, and have maintained friendly relations with the L/N duchy for decades.”
“Ah, I see... Thank you, you’re always such a big help.”
Chuckling, a pleased smile stretches across his face. Your heart, for a brief moment, flutters. His reply is smooth and warm. “There is no need for thanks. I live solely to serve you, Your Grace.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who isolates you from the outside world. Not by driving everyone away from you like he did with the servants, but by causing you to lose trust in everybody else but him.
What happens is this: After attending a few social events and interacting with the other nobles, you end up making one particularly good friend. Instead of warning you away from them, knowing full well that they were not to be trusted, he instead chooses to say nothing. As he predicted, that friend ends up betraying you, leaving you terribly wounded, especially since they were the first person you considered a true friend in a long while.
Thankfully, your lovely butler will always be there to pick up the pieces, be it a broken heart or shattered soul.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who holds you as you cry, one hand positioned on the small of your back, the other hand gently stroking your hair. You have your face buried in the crook of his neck, dampening the fabric of his uniform with your tears.
You can feel the warmth of his hands through the silk of his gloves, the steady, grounding thrum of his heart. He says nothing, but his silence means everything.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who controls more and more of your life as time goes on. From the food you eat to the clothes you wear, everything is planned by him, down to the very last detail.
When you are bedridden from your illness, he'll feed you by hand, sitting by the side of your bed as he spoons you each bite. At first, you had protested, telling him he has other, more important things to be doing, but you eventually gave in to his unwavering persistence.
You can never win against him, against his honey-coated words and tender gaze, against those six damned words, ‘I live to serve Your Grace.’
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who is a patient, patient man. It matters not to him how long it will take before he has you completely in his hands, because he knows, with absolute certainty, that everything will unfold according to his plans. He draws you in slowly, making sure that you don't suspect a thing, and life around you changes so gradually that you don’t realise anything amiss until you’re dependent on him for everything.
But by then, you will be too entranced by him to care.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 who is doing this purely out of love, as misguided as it may be. He just wants to care for you, treasure you, and protect you from harm. He truly believes that he is the only person capable of doing so, and will do whatever it takes to achieve his goals.
You don’t have to think, you don't have to work, all you have to do is rely on him, and stay in his lovely cage of gold.
Yandere!Merman didn't start off by pulling you under. Instead, he chose a slow, agonizingly patient courtship that took months to build. At first, he was just a mysterious silhouette swimming alongside your board out past the break. You’d catch flashes of shimmering teal scales under the water, or see a pale, webbed hand casually gripping the edge of your surfboard when you weren't looking. He wanted you to get used to his presence, turning himself into a regular part of your daily surf routine.
The gap finally closed when he realized you weren't afraid of him. he started popping his head completely out of the water right next to your board, his long, dark hair plastered to his face and his slitted, bioluminescent eyes blinking up at you. You’d just sit cross-legged on your surfboard, drifting on the gentle swells, completely mesmerized as this beautiful, dangerous creature rested his chin on the nose of your board like a curious seal, clicking and purring softly whenever you spoke to them.
Yandere!Merman became completely obsessed with "providing" for you, though his understanding of human logic was incredibly warped. he noticed that you spent hours out on the water without eating, so he decided it was his job to feed you. he would disappear beneath the waves with a powerful flick of his tail, leaving you waiting on your board, only to burst through the surface a few minutes later holding a completely raw, wriggling deep-sea fish in his claws, proudly offering it to you with a wide, fanged grin.
When you laughed and shook your head, trying to explain through gestures that you couldn't eat raw, moving fish, he didn't get discouraged. he just swam closer, floating on his back right next to your board, and began meticulously cleaning the fish with his sharp claws, trying to hand-feed you the raw pieces himself. He would pout, letting out a low, disappointed click from his throat whenever you gently pushed his hand away, utterly confused as to why his favorite human was refusing his hard-earned hunting trophies.
Yandere!Merman gift-giving got a lot more creative when he started raiding sunken trade ships and coastal orchards that dipped over the cliffs. One afternoon, he swam up to your board with his webbed hands overflowing with weirdly preserved, salty pears that had fallen into a nearby cove. He pushed them onto your lap, watching with absolute, unblinking intensity as you took a bite of one. The second he saw your jaw move and realized you were actually eating his gift, his gills flared with excitement, and he let out a loud, euphoric trill that vibrated right through the fiberglass of your board.
You became entirely addicted to this secret routine. You started spending less time actually catching waves and more time just sitting out past the breaker, staring down into the clear blue water, waiting for his shadow to appear. And he loved every second of it. He loved watching you watch him. Every time he dove back down into the reef, he would purposefully swim in elegant, showy loops right beneath your board, flaunting his massive, powerful tail just to keep your eyes locked entirely on him.
Yandere!Merman weaponized this sweet, domestic routine to slowly erode your attachment to the land. While you thought you were just making a unique marine friend, he was tracking your schedule, learning your scent, and making you entirely dependent on his daily visits for excitement. He’s currently letting you stay on top of your board, completely satisfied with hand-feeding you fruits and preening under your attention. Still, his possessive instinct is just waiting for the perfect, stormy day to permanently bring his favorite surfer down into his world for good.
Yandere rich couple who message you privately with an offer to be their sugar baby. Sounded like a total scam, so you brush it off. No way you’re falling for that, even if the cash would be nice right now…
Yandere rich couple who start sending you handwritten letters. You have no clue how they found your address, but with actual cash inside, things are suddenly way more interesting.
Yandere rich couple who are old, married, and honestly just bored. They’ve got way too much money and no idea what to do with any of it.
Yandere rich couple whose kids are all grown up, leaving them with an empty house, but that’s just means that all their attention is focused on you and you alone <3
They’re more than ready to spoil you rotten as long as you agree to their little arrangement, however they’re not too worried about you saying no. Why would you?
Yandere rich couple who finally invite you over for dinner, giving you their home address. Could this be a terrible idea? Maybe. You could totally get kidnapped, but…money.
Thankfully, you don’t end up being kidnapped. Instead, you get treated to what feels like a five-star meal. To them though? real main course is you.
The yandere wife who somehow always finds a way to sit near you will slip her arm around your waist and start whispering praises into your ear. She loves the way you flinch when her breath tickles your ears.
You’re the most exciting thing to happen to her in years (besides her husband, of course). She likes to take you shopping with her you don't really have to buy anything she just likes to show you off.
Yandere husband that is very big on pampering you, sure just giving you a gift is fine, but he really likes to see the happy look on your face when you eat good food or wear comfortable clothes.
Yandere rich couple who start showering you with “small” gifts jewelry, designer clothes…..a house key “Think of it as your second home,” it was bigger than your real house.
Yandere rich couple who get super annoyed if you so much as mention spending time with anyone else. Why would you want to talk to anyone else when they’re literally giving you everything you could want?
note- it's 2am as I write this with my fixation being back. PLEASE READ THE TAGS & SCROLL IF UNCOMFORTABLE
Aerion Targaryen is to suffer a political marriage that was made to humble him aka a forced marriage trope with Aerion
Tags: female reader, forced marriage trope, dubcon/noncon, Aerion is a warning, YANDERE, abuse, power dynamics, brief smut, lovesick!Aerion, messy timeline and inconsistent canon
Whoever catches the prince's sight would be pitied even by the devil himself. Aerion lives up to the name that was given to him. For he is so arrogant, he believes he is a dragon in a man’s body. His love, if one can even call it that, is all consuming as the fire that engulfs all.
You didn’t have the dragon’s blood, the silver hair, or the violet eyes. At least you’re not ugly. You came from a respectable house, still Aerion thought this whole match was beneath him. He was furious, livid even. Who was he to be commanded to wed some dull girl against his wishes? Aerion surely thought his father was jesting, but he has always known his father isn’t one to humor. His father’s glare was enough to silence his complaints, yet the castle was well aware of the contempt he had for you days on end, even though you have yet to utter a word to the prince.
As soon as you stepped into the red keep, you yourself could sense the prince’s displeasement. Before you were wed, the two of you were supposed forced to spend some time with one another. His mind seemed elsewhere while he showed you around. It felt as if every word, step, and breath you took irritated him further. The closest he seemed interested in you was when he spoke of the history of his house, and while you were curious, you feared inquiring may irritate him further.
The wedding was a punishment in and of itself. Aerion couldn’t wipe off that sneer in his face. He seemed somewhat satisfied with how beautiful you looked at that moment. But everyone from his family to the court can tell this whole match - this wedding - you - have slighted him and there is nothing you can do to not feel so small against him. Even as you share a dance, there is no warmth, just duty.
The bedding was extremely painful. Made you almost wish you weren’t a maiden; there was no time for you to undress with the prince laying you on the soft mattress. Climbing on top of you, his breath reeking of wine. He tugged down his pants, lifting your gown; there was no gentleness as he thrusted in and out of you. You couldn’t muffle your sobs, hand reaching to grab his arm to anchor yourself. And when the deed was done, you just stared up at the ceiling, unable to hear the words he spoke to you before leaving.
The night was a haze with all the days blurring together. Aerion had kept his distance since, it’s not long before you felt like a ghost wandering the halls. Newlyweds were the talk of the court, whispers were exchanged of the sad bride you were becoming; gossip you pretend doesn't bother you. It didn’t help that your husband would just walk in front of you, taking quick steps, and at first you tried to keep up with him, but your sore legs served as a reminder, so you remained far behind. Breakfast and supper were spent by yourself in silence, unless his family took pity on you and invited you to sit with them.
You have learned to put up with your husband, a fate you didn’t anticipate, but what else were you to do but tolerate it. Even when Aerion wasn’t angry, it always seems as if he’s mocking you. Lessons didn’t elude you, as your septa taught you; you were polite, courteous, laughing when it called for it, even tried to ask of his family’s history, anything to make the marriage more bearable.
Your husband still visited your chamber and you knew exactly what he wanted. Who were you to deny him? You could only cling to his shoulders as he thrusts into you. Times he would push your nightwear up, exposing your nips to the cold air, whimpering when his fingers touched and squeezed your breasts. His pace all the brutal, but with each visit, the pain eases and your sobs slowly turn into moans as you learn to enjoy it.
Aerion has good days, they are rare, but you learned to cherish them when they came. One could swear he enjoys hearing himself talk. You learned not to contradict him, for your husband is a man built with pride that when you gently corrected him; a misplaced name or he confused a minor house. The prince will snap at you and you’ll be given the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. If there is a crowd, he’ll even make a joke at your expense.
Every word felt like walking across glass. He is not a fool; Aerion knows every second that passes is you trying so desperately to please him. How your sweet words feed a little more and more into his vanity and when you call him my prince, something in him twitches. It all pleases him in ways he doesn’t fully understand, even in a twisted sense, arouses him. He knows you have no family nearby to protect you, no allies to speak for you, only the Targaryen prince who no one dares to defy.
Your husband who once looked at you as if you were nothing more than the air he breathed has begun to be seen more often. The quiet hours you had grown accustomed to are now shadowed by his presence. He would ask of the book you're reading that seems to preoccupy you so much, only to hum dully in response. And when you are allowed at court, able to finally exchange pleasantries with the other ladies. Your husband can’t help to corner you as soon as you take your leave, asking what has you in such good spirits. There is tiny amusement in seeing his brows furrow when you say it’s just idle talk.
Visits to your bedchambers have become so frequent, you grew to expect it. Acting gullible to his gaze while you arrange your hair in front of the mirror, pretending not to know what he’s here for either. You’ve grown shameful in how you seem to look forward to it.
It was all for duty, your only worth was to give him heir. But surely duty isn’t running through his head as you feel so good, your tight cunt squeezing his cock. It’s like it was made for him and only him. He says. And as you wrapped in the sheets, covered in sweat; you hum as he speaks on the weather, some foolish gossip he heard or an upcoming tourney. He stays the night, snoring softly beside you.
There are other nights where your husband visits because he’s restless, complaining of his family or whichever lord happened to offend him that day. He lets you pour his wine as he rambles on. He would dare not say he simply came seeking your company. His eyes follow as you light the candles, he comments on it, of course, asking why don’t you leave it to your servants instead, not long before you feel the familiar tug at the laces of your night dress. Demanding you undress and you know better than to refuse.
Sometimes he asks if you miss your family. When you admit you do, confusion flicks across his face. You have risen in station, married to a Targaryen prince; a maiden’s every dream. Aerion finds himself more annoyed than he should whenever you mention how you miss your home.
You belong to him now, your place remains by his. It doesn’t matter how tedious or late such events are. You remember all too well how furious he was when he asked where you were and he was informed you had returned to your chambers, too tired to stay. Aerion bursted into your place later in the night, blaming you for his foul mood, he had to entertain some drunk old fool all alone. As long as he is there, you must accompany him, is that not what wives do for their husbands.
Just like his love, Aerion must be the most jealous man you have ever crossed paths with. There can be no reasonings; it’s like wildfire, it spreads and there’s nothing you can do but wait for it to die down. You are stuck in its path, having to just endure it.
When tournaments are held, you are seated among the royal family watching your husband. There is no definitive proof but you feel his gaze flicker at you through the steel of his helm. And there is the semblance of proof, when he lifts his visor and you’re met with a smug smile meant only for you.
Before the tournament begins or after it, he demands you to be in his tent. He acts like he doesn’t need your praise or sweet words of encouragement. When it’s all over, he comes to you still in armor, the smell of blood, sweat and dirt clinging to him. The dirt of the field stains your gown when he pulls you close, insisting you should celebrate his victory, his mouth clashing into yours.
You’ll never forget the day when one simply asked for your favor. He was a boy from some minor house. And even if your husband was in denial of any feeling of attachment he had towards you. The mere act was seen as an insult, you pitied the boy long before and the gods must have been cruel to make him face your husband next. When Aerion struck, he didn’t target the shield but rather the legs of the horse. The boy was flinged from his horse landing face first into the ground, you gasped along with the crowd. Even from a distance, you can see the boy’s face all bloody and mangled as they dragged him away.
Aerion’s jealousy has become the talk across king’s landing, yet no one dares to say it out loud. A glance from another man across supper will have him feel a sick rage of jealousy. Tightening his hold on the goblet and you feign as you can’t feel his other hand gripping your thigh beneath the table. He’ll even squeeze your fingers a little too tightly when he thinks you’ve spoken to some other lady-in-waiting for far too long. The only reason his wrath is so restrained is due to his father.
Aerion pretends he is above it all, acting indifferent but it burns in his eyes. His jealousy sometimes can seem ridiculous even childish yet you are always there to reassure him. Yes, Lord Tyrell made you laugh, but no one can ever be as charming as him. Yes, you spoke with lady Royce for a while, but no one is more of a pleasant company than him. You’re even careful not to clap too eagerly to another during tourneys, according to your husband, none of them could perform as well as he does.
Your servants have gotten used to lowering their eyes when entering your chambers. The prince has become a common sight, laying beside you, chest bare, an arm draped around you and hair tangled. If you shift, he stirs as well. An unfortunate lesson was taught when you left your husband waking up alone, for you were informed your maid ran out in tears; met with a foul mood Aerion during breakfast time.
Aerion also being drunk is another common sight. He is far more affectionate, clinging to you. Yet you are still careful, his temper is still unpredictable, his jealousy if even possible is more intense, and his words are much harsh. Sometimes he looks at you, almost like he is bewitched, brushing your hair aside so he can take a better look.
Aerion cannot not touch you now. A hand will trail up your arm or toy with a strand of your hair yet in the same breath, Aerion insists he has no care for you. He’ll not hold your hand even when he wants you to follow, gripping your wrist instead. Do not try pushing his hand away unless you want a furious Aerion. His affection is, in many cases, rough. Gripping your face when he wants your attention or when he’s kissing you. The servants try not to stare when they are dressing you and see the hickies and bites laid across your skin.
Aerion would rather face a terrible death than admit he seeks your approval. He’ll tell stories or a jest and his head turns you, waiting for your laugh or nod. Aerion also surprisingly knows when something is wrong, it can’t be because he watches you so often. He knows how you twist your ring when you’re anxious or how you seem more lost in thought when nervous. He’ll ask, sounding more irritated than concerned. Aerion wishes to fix it, but his version of doing so is finding someone to blame for it then taking it out on them.
Silence treatment is a death wish. It didn’t matter what Aerion did. Using silence as your weapon will drive this man mad. You remember all too well when he threw a cup at the wall right beside your head when you refused to answer him. Aerion didn’t apologize, he never does. He simply moved on with the day, as if nothing had happened.
Aerion loves to spoil you. Dressed in his house colors, your dresses sewed with silks, hair pinned with adorned clasps. The first gift was a necklace with a dragon pendant, his sigil. He jests the gifts made you less plain beside him, yet his eyes linger with hunger whenever you wore them. But heaven forbid you wear anything from your own house or worse, do the offense of wearing someone else’s gift. No he doesn’t care if it was a family gift, he’ll throw it out the window or in the open sea without you knowing.
And yet, with all of this. Aerion swears it’s not love. He is too proud for that. Love is a weakness. Love is for fools and singers. He can easily replace you. Find another lady from wherever who can do the simplest task of warming his bed and bearing him heirs. Yet Aerion finds himself noticing how your eyes twinkle in the moonlight, what rings you like to fiddle with when you are nervous, and your soft scent of lavender that lingers even when you leave.
There was a time when fever struck. It seemed simple at first. Aeron didn’t even seem all that concerned, but when you became bedridden, and there was a slim chance of you not making it out – Aerion began to panic. He was truly unruly, the maesters were threatened while they worked, the servants were accused of poisoning you. There was such a scene, Maekar himself was forced to intervene, forcing his son from your bedside so the maesters could actually do their work. Dragons do not die of weakness, he kept telling himself. You must not. You will not. And when the fever finally broke, the realm seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Maekar was even unsure if you had tamed his son or drawn him deeper into madness.
There is no separating you and Aerion. What began as a cold, loveless marriage had turned into something you are unsure what to call. For now, the man, the prince you married will never claim he loves you, and he’ll always remain cruel. But you know he would kill for you. He will force a lord into his knees if he was to make a joke of your expense. He not only wants you, desires you, but he needs you, like the flower needs the rain. You must only say the word and he’ll fulfill it and maybe that is all what a person wants. And with nothing else to do, you have grown to also care and love this cruel man.
Then come the days when you feel unwell. Unable to stand the food that was once your comfort. Even the very scent of King’s landing upsets your stomach. Your body most particularly your breasts feel sore and your mood has proven to be very irritable. The maesters confirm what you have begun to suspect. You are with child.
male yandere crown prince x female villain reader, slight mentions of gore? spying/stalking and very manwha inspired!
Yan!prince who’s the golden boy of his empire. He’s got excellent swordsmanship skills, highly favoured by the emperor, excels at his studies and is undeniably the most attractive guy in every social setting. He’s the most desirable bachelor right now, with the title of crown princess remaining vacant, he’s got noble ladies clinging onto his arms each banquet.
Even though he’s got the options of a daughter of a duke or another princess from a neighbouring kingdom, he can’t feel anything for them. No matter how much rogue they put on their lips, their dainty tricks to get a measly glance or how much they try to subtly show off their bosom, it gets absolutely no reaction from him.
He finds these banquets to be nothing more than just another duty, something he’s obliged to do as crown prince. He walks around, greets a few eager ladies and their mothers then goes off to butter up the men to gain more support for the imperial faction.
That was until he saw you, pouring a velvety red onto an intricate dress that was not your own. Apparently the victim was a lady who compared you to your sister, calling you a fake bastard of the s/n family. It was strange, yan!prince usually hated any kind of disruption to his routines or the expected social conventions, yet for the first time, he felt something indescribable.
From that fateful day one, yan!prince has been sending you all kinds of invitations to the palace, jewels that dazzle even in the dark and bouquets of blossoming flowers. Despite his overwhelming skill set, he’s not well versed at all in courtship. Though these objects aren’t enough to fully symbolise his adoration, he can only hope it can offer you the slightest glimpse into his heart.
Yan!prince is not satisfied with seeing you in mere passing, seeing as you’ve either delayed or outright rejected his invitations to his abode. The only way he can satiate himself is seeing you all dolled up, pouting in the corner, most likely due to the rather adverse rumors that seem to swirl around you. Even though you won’t let it show through your head held high and the elegance you allow to radiate, he can tell you’re hurting. In this whole empire, he’s the only one able to help you.
He resolves to send one of his most experienced and deeply loyal governesses to your home, under the guise of wanting to aid you for your search for a suitable marriage candidate. Really, her only main task is to keep you under her watchful eye, reporting even a shudder to his highness. He may even require her to send back some.. souvenirs. A handkerchief that you’ve embroidered for practice, a silk ribbon that you’ve neglected after a tea party or a page from your diary that’s been decorated with both your words of anguish and your precious tears.
Yan!prince succeeds in everything that he does, but he will push himself even further to ensure he stays the only man suitable to stand by your side. He’ll train alongside the imperial army, duelling men back to back, and he’ll further strengthen his political support by advocating for commoners. He can’t deny that he sometimes gets lost in thought about your pouty lips peppering his neck with delicate kisses, sitting on his thigh while he shifts through official documents.
Even though yan!prince has been very publicly courting you, word will begin to reach his ears of something rather unfavourable. As you and your sister live in the same house, the known villainess of the empire and the white lotus, people have been assuming that yan!prince has been courting the latter. To make matters worse for him, she has been playing right into their words.
Through the reports he’s received so far, it turns out that none of his gifts have ever even been touched by you. It’s all been taken by your sister. All the rejected invitations were the work of your parents, insisting that your sister is a better match for the future ruler for the empire, that you could always just find another husband for yourself.
It makes him nauseated that such a social puppeteer like her has been feeding high society such disgusting lies. The mere imagery of him being with anyone who’s not you, makes him want to tear his skin from his flesh. The disgust slowly builds up to something more intense, something terrifying, he’s lost all sense of reason and has completely abandoned the image he has to maintain. He needs you.
Yan!prince will show up to your manor, with a bouquet in his hand. Yet, he’s not here for you. It pains him to be so close to you in every way, yet the wall between you guys couldn’t be any greater. He knows that he must do this, to ensure that you’ll become the woman ruling beside him, for the greater good of the empire.
He asks for your sister, and his royal presence sends the household into a frenzy. Every maid rushes to fix the little imperfections your manor has, while some assemble into your sister’s room to get her ready. Even with late notice of his arrival, your sister is able to get ready in a respectable period, prancing down the stairs, shrewdly giggling about how she hopes she hasn’t keep his highness waiting for too long!
He plasters on his best princely smile, and endures her. Yan!prince allows her to wrap her arms around his, as she guides him around the manor. He fights the urge to shove the manicured nails sinking into the arms and sever it off, feeding it to the dungeon rats. He resists, imagining the result if it all works out.
Later in the evening, he’ll make himself comfortable at the dinner table. Flattering the marquess and boasting about the marquis, with the occasional glance to your sister as she twirls her locs around.
When he finally bids his goodbyes, the only thought that occupies his mind is the face you’ll make once you see your dear sister undo herself in front of high society. What will you do, when the only obstacle in your life is gone, and its all because of him?
At another small, yet elite banquet, you and your sister manage to get invited, courtesy of his highness. The servants carry themselves with a refinement that rivals other nobles, the gentle notes of the pianos and harps float into the air and the attendees dance under the crystal chandeliers.
Yan!prince is there too, however instead of utilising this opportunity to fortify his political connections, he watches your sister. It’s not the stare of devotion that high society whispers and assumes about, it’s one that studies her with a undertone of something sinister.
He watches as your sister walks up to his aunt, the duchess, and she’s practically perfect. She smiles just enough, performs a dainty curtsy and introduces herself with enough youthfulness to lower her guard, but enough grace that she doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s all going so well for her.
Yan!prince can’t hear, but he can see that whatever your sister said next, it deeply offends the duchess. She clutches the fabric of her heavy skirt, and reprimands her for speaking so out of turn, jabbing her with words like foolish girl!
It’s not like it’s fully his fault. He simply just didn’t tell your sister the whole truth. It’s her own fault for trying to parasite her way to his rank, when a pest like her only truly belongs below him. All he did was say something in passing about how much the duchess adores bird watching, he just neglected to tell her that it used to be her favourite activity with her sister. His mother, the passed on empress.
Of course, the white lotus’s petals immediately start to wilt, she’s not accustomed to this type of treatment at all. The only thing she can do is stutter a few meek apologies before escorting herself out.
Yan!prince looks over to you, and your eyes are wide with something he can’t exactly pinpoint, amazement? Surprise? Maybe you’re confused that It's not you who’s been the target this time. Whatever it is, it’s incredibly intoxicating, he wants to drown in your expression.
Thankfully, he hasn’t even begun with your sister, so he’ll have plenty of more opportunities to see how your face would contort when you slowly see how your sister crumbles in her own schemes. His lips curl in a polite smile when he thinks about how you would jump into his arms, when you finally realise that he’s the one behind the rotting of the white lotus.
I remember you guys really enjoyed my previous post with Negan, so I decided to make another Yandere TWD post! I like the thought of Carl being overprotective, almost like an older brother towards Y/N.. But sometimes, he goes a 'little' too far.
But can you blame him? Rick left him responsible for you and refuses to let him down! Even if his methods are a bit 'extreme'.
Yandere!Emperor abruptly and unexplainably wakes up in modern times along with his trusted servants. He does not know what is happening, nor is he particularly concerned, as there are more pressing matters at hand: where is his morning tea, and why are there people touring his grand chamber? They're pointing bright lights at him, mouths open in awe. He marches down the hall, passing large signs claiming "historical facts about the palace". A chronology. Shockingly realistic paintings. Are those his favorite shoes locked in some sort of glass box?!
Yandere!Emperor cannot remember much, but he knows one thing for certain - he was in the middle of marriage negotiations. He scans the masses who've invaded his privacy, and finally lands his eyes on you, an unfortunate museum visitor. He nonchalantly pulls you by the wrist, as if you've known each other for years, and leads you away.
"Get rid of these peasants just...strutting around," he barks towards his servants. "As for you, I hope you've picked a wedding outfit by now."
You gawk in confusion. You don't know this man, and you suspect this kind of act is a tad too direct to be part of some audience game. His garments don't look like cheap cosplay, either.
"What the hell are you talking about," you finally blurt out, stopping in your tracks.
The royal glares at you, visibly annoyed by your stubbornness, and gestures towards one of the servants. The archaic-looking aide retrieves a scroll from his sleeve, handing it to the man currently keeping you hostage.
"Very well, then, if you want to play forgetful, read it!" He stretches out the paper and shoves it in your face. "Take your time, maybe repeat it out loud a couple of times; remembering important matters doesn't seem to be your strong suit."
You huff at his cheap insults, then scan the words. Why, yes, he does have a point: your family name is right there, big and bold. That can't be right. You begin to wonder if you've previously clicked on one of those scam websites, when it finally occurs to you.
"Wait a damn minute, that's my great-grandparent!"
Oh no, you won't be pulling these childish games on him. You are his promised consort, carefully chosen by his men as his one ideal soulmate. Enough nonsense for a day.
