this side-blog re and post anything nsfw or yandere shits w/o being ashamed. if you are under 18 then please don't follow my blog. not active a lot, write when being inspired. to be clear I do NOT condone yan-behaviors irl, this is only my fantasies. and fvck my english.
PLS DELIVER ME SUNDAY BABYTRAPPING DARLING N COMFORTING HER IN THAT ANNOYINGLY CALM TONE OF HIS 🙏
JUST........ the sweetest, softest, most tooth-aching sort of non-con,,, Sunday brushing your hair out of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, smiling at you in the most loving way. Every slow, gentle thrust that brings your bodies closer together, your heartbeats nearly aligning, all while he's whispering to you about how you'll make such a wonderful mother, how beautiful you are, how you'll never have to lift a finger again... every day will feel like Sunday (lol) when you're with him. <3 no need to work or stress. A life devoid of struggle or worries, and he'll look after you. You'll want for nothing.
You can plead and beg for him to stop all you want; it's not getting through to Sunday. From the perspective of succession, someone will need to be in line to be the next Oak Family head. But if Sunday's being honest he really wants to start a family with you. Starting a family with someone is one of the highest forms of love and devotion, or so he thinks. Also,, a way to tie himself to you. And you'll be so much more dependent on him. orz
Comforting you so lovingly as he holds you in his arms, his hands splayed gently over your belly. In just a few months, the little one will grow and you'll soften with such a wonderful pregnancy glow. And he'll be there every step of the way, meticulously planning your meals and what you'll wear and who you'll see (mostly him), etc etc. of course,,, if you continue to be difficult or jeopardize yourself and the baby's well-being..... well, maybe he isn't above using his tuning ability on you, if only to sway you to be a bit more...docile and compliant. Less feisty and disobedient. He only wants what's best for you. Surely you'll come to understand this. :)
In Reca's ideal film, you'd be nothing more than a toy forced to spin at the twirls of a clockwork key ; a spectacle suspended in motion, complete allegiance to his direction, again and again in the palm of his hand. In that perfect shot, you would not rebel, fist against the surface of the screen in a plea to be leg go, no, you'd be easy to control.
“Do not be absurd, my dear! Has a bug chipped away at the film in your head? You would not survive a day away from my camera.”
The friction of his glove as it clasps onto the sinews of your arms clashes against the ricocheting waves of his voice in your ears. Cut! Cut! Cut! You need not return his stare to hear the panic reverberating through his head, just as he needs not respect a fraction of your personal space.
“My thoughts are perfectly lucid, director. I no longer wish to act under your guidance.” you push him back with a finger to his chest and he allows you to, his arms falling to his sides before rising with all the melodrama of a seasoned lunatic.
“What a way to say you wish me dead!” with a sweep, he's beside your stead.
“Have you forgotten your dream, my brightest star?” a brush of his breath against your ear, a firm grasp onto your wrist as it unfolds your hand towards the phantom of your wish, “What happened to that light that brought you to me?”
His presence, annoyingly, is as engulfing as it was the first moment you had the misfortune of meeting his acquaintance. A dwindling candle in a shadowed room, its flicker is too miniscule in comparison to the tenebrous monstrosity extending its talons towards the candle's light.
Contempt is the sole benefactor that keeps it alight, burning for a moment longer. A fruitless effort — rebelling is nothing more than running closer and closer to the dead end.
“It got snuffed out.” you tilt your head towards his pointed stare, in time to bear witness to the contractions of emotions vacillating in his eyes — building up up up before bursting forth in a supernova of laughter. Your feet nearly tangle amongst themselves as you try to move away from the disturbing sight, attempt thwarted by his insistent hand.
Reca's crackles slighter to a burdened sigh, ruby eyes peek from between the crevices of the fingers of his free hand, “And, you allowed it.”
It should be incriminating for a sentence that calm to fizzle your nerves that quickly, “Non.. nonsense! It was you who clearly—”
Your heart jumps as the axis of your vision goes askance, red bleeds and paints the corners of your mind. “I did what?” the sting of his nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks wakes you, “Come on, you can do it, love. Think. What did I do to you, clearly?”
“You... you made me into who I am today and, I can never even think of standing in front of the camera without your direction.” you heave.
“Brilliant! Just like this! If you continue performing this well, it won't be long before we can step up from these boring scenes and move onto shooting the truly heart-touching moments.” it is debatable whether your legs surrendered on their own or were forced to as the Memokeeper catches you, dragging along your limp form towards his vision.
“And when every scene has been shot, organized and edited to perfection, I'll keep it secure from everyone's grabby hands — for, this film is to be viewed by us alone.”
Hatred is the frailty of the weak, their last act of defiance before they embrace destruction. In Reca's hands, it is nothing more than a misdirection to achieve the most perfect shot, malleable to his whimsies.
Ok Mr. Reca looks like insane yandere who stalked his darling, made a film about his darling life. Then kidnapped his darling and forced them to watch the film, calling it 'his masterpiece'
Wdym you don't like it? Darling? Are you serious? He dedicated everything to make the film! You HAVE TO love it! He WILL force you to love it.
excited werewolf who thumps their fuckass tail against the ground and knocks shit off tables and knocks people over with it because they’re so happy to see you. if you even care.
WUWA WUWA WUWA!! With all these games and adulting it can get quite hard to stay up to date so I hope these characters aren't too OOC.
Calcharo . Xiangli Yao . Mortefi . Scar
.
Calcharo will keep you in shape to fight along side him... For the most part. You'll never be faster than him, smarter than him or stronger than him, but you will be able to take down some of the smaller tacet discords and any thieves that try to take advantage of you.
You're going to be monitored by someone of the Ghost Hounds at almost all times. This world is far from safe, be it by TD's or humans alike, he will not take his chances.
"Your life isn't a price worth negotiating," he'd say, keeping you under his arm so you can't run into danger (run away).
He doesn't share you well, you're the sweetheart of the Ghost Hounds but most people won't go past saying hi or a gentle compliment though there has been punishment; see below. The most in terms of other human contact would be from people like Aalto and Jiyan who only get a hard, contemplated stare from him.
Calcharo is a surprisingly generous - and a little ignorant - lover. He'll always say no to something that seems new to a weird extent but is very easy to convince and will probably like it more than you do. Tongue in the bum? Don't be gross. Ugh but with how tight those rings of muscles knead around his tongue has something so tantalisingly delicious about it. Let's try his cock next-
Punishment is tight. Most of the time it involves ropes and chains, keeping you in place, locking you to one area. Red strikes across your thighs and arse from a good lashing or spanking is probable. On the harsher times you will be displayed in public, and a couple of times he has let them use you. "You want to act like a whore? Fine. Use her to your content, I'll be back in a few hours." It really makes you enjoy the sympathetic and kind touches you receive under Calcharo's care.
.~.~.~.~.~.
Xiangli Yao is a wonderful master to his puppy princess. Yes, you are his sweet pet that he raises with love. An adorned collar sits prettily around your neck, your nails are trimmed and cared for all by yours truly.
With a calm smile he holds out his hand expectantly. You place the scroll on his palm and sit on the floor beside his legs, the paper being passed from one hand to the other so he can now pet your head, "Thank you, puppy. Hm... It seems we have an urgent commission. We will have to put off your toilet training until I come back." You couldn't be more thankful.
No privacy, this man. Your business is his business and if you don't have business then he's not doing very well as your owner, is he? He will have to create some game of stimulation for you. Hide and seek around the home, "Where's your ball?" is one of his favourites for when he's doing papers.
The thing with Xiangli Yao is that he is fully aware with how demented this is. Embarrassing you 24/7, forcing you into uncomfortable situations that strip you of your humanity, showing you off to others as if this is the most normal thing, it just gives him such a rush to be so above you in every possible way.
If you don't pick which collar/leash combo you want for the day then he will choose for you.
"Oh, you brought (Y/n) in for the day! How nice to get them out of the house," people may say as he pulls you into work with him. You're fawned over after the initial shock of being his pet and not his partner.
Exhibitionist but more so forcing you then doing it himself. Bullet vibrators, ropes, ben wa balls, you name it. It's important that puppy has their toys with them, so along with your leash make sure you pick something fun to play with as well.
Definitely has a bone gag and those belts and mitts to make you even more puppy-like. Goodness help you if he finds a 'puppy playtime' event, anything to make his pet utterly red with shame <3
*~*~*~*~*
Mortefi is not into public affection and won't really touch you unless he needs or really wants to. He's not going to condemn you if you wrap your arms around his torso or hold his hand when anxious, but, you only need to follow his voice when he orders you to come to keep him happy.
That being said, going out is a privilege and not a right. You don't have to get on your knees for him or clean the kitchen ever hour, just stop breaking things and throwing a tantrum and he'll likely take you out of the house with him.
You have your own tablet to play games on and do your own 'work'. He won't say it out loud but he does find it cute and really enjoys when you're both staying late in the lab and on your respected devices, enjoying your company and giving him the motivation he needs to finish off this last equation.
He will make time for you whether you want it or not. Relationships will bond tightly if you rely on the other more, so, please don't do anything that will warrant a punishment as those tend to isolating.
Please please please please come to him with any invention ideas, questions, interests into his field at all. If you squint you may notice the reddening on his cheeks as his heart pounds from your attention. You want something made? Consider it done, the two of you will spend all night creating a little robot that pours the perfect amount of syrup on any size stack of pancakes.
In the early mornings Baizhi will walk in, inquiring, "Mortefi, I'm just checking in on the progress of the TD field barricades you were working on-" She stops, watching as you and Mortefi are eye level with the table to judge the collection of syrup amongst seven different plates of pancakes. The office is happy that day for a free and yummy breakfast.
Overall, he is a pretty good yandere, however things can definitely go south if you act out. It's exhausting and frankly hurts his feelings when you suddenly get a rebellious streak. Running away, throwing food off the table, attacking him, he's not one to let this sort of behaviour off the hook.
Emotions can be quite high in certain circumstances. He will analyse what is different about the recent weeks and act accordingly. Some days you need to be left in a cellar by yourself for a while, restricted from anything dangerous. Others you need a good fucking.
The sex ones are probably his preferred outlets. In all honesty, it's his fault as well. Working constantly is tiring so he can't always please you when he wants to. If you came up yourself then he would figure a way around it. Though when it's all on him then it gets difficult. If you're horny and angry from it then holding you down and giving you a few orgasms normally does the trick. As long as you're limping to the bathroom after and yawning from the exertion, he can tell the next few days will be relatively peaceful.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Scar is a maniac and thrives off of your unease. 100% carves something into your skin with a knife, whether it be his name, a heart, or something else meaningful only he knows.
He will hold your head and force you watch as a human/TD experiment comes this close to your face, only held back by a chain in the ground. Your face is flooding with tears and all you can hear is the wet snarling of the creature and Scar's raucous laughter, "Oh, darling, did I scare you too much? Don't be silly, you know I'd never let anything hurt you~."
Is an open killer to anyone who disrespects you. Your fear and tears are invigorating but only if he is the cause of them. Yet, no matter how sadistic he is to you, he will always end the day by treating you like a deity of worship. Soft touches, sweet caresses, gentle kisses... You could almost believe this were someone else if you closed your eyes.
... And then he bites you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as his cock sinks into your hole. Marking you, training your body to cave to him because you need to love him and crave him as much as he does you.
It may not seem like it to you but he certainly does have a softer side whenever you're involved. He's less irritable and more willing to hear people out, that's not to say the outcome will change for them but it at least gives them a false sense of hope before their inevitable demise.
Loves having debates with you, especially if they're based on morals. You're thinking is just so cute and deluded compared to his, to see how your mind ticks truly is a wonderful past time. Sometimes you say things that he doesn't expect and it really gets him going!
The reality of the world is forced upon you with Scar as your lover. Death is everywhere, pain ahead of it and despair accompanying that, too. To shed a tear for the world is understandable for people like you, and thanks to Scar (and his thing for dacryphilia) you will cry - a lot.
"Oh, you poor, sweet soul. Aren't we just so lucky to have found each other?" His eyes bore into yours, thumbs tenderly stroking either side of your face so he can keep you focused on him. His lips ghost over yours with every word, "I won't let another being touch a hair on your body. That's right! Only I can kill you, if you're going to die then it'll be from me alone." - he honestly finds this romantic. Please say you'll kill him back so that you can die together.
Jade is a contradiction of many things, all wrapped up in a little pink bow which you can never fully unwrap.
And she likes to keep it that way.
In her heart she will always be a businesswoman first and foremost, which means that she's always looking for things to be in her favor. As good as she is at her job it can get so tiring. Even she fantasizes about days in which she could just put her feet up, have an ice cold drink and have a cute little thing to fuss over her, telling her all sorts of silly and amusing things...
And you just happen to check every single box she has.
It's so easy to rope you into her arms. She can give you anything and everything. The best part is that it's all 100% guaranteed, literally every single person you've spoken to who has had her as business partner can attest to her skills, wit and charm. Honestly, you would be a fool to not work with her - that's what everyone says at least.
She comes to you like a whisper in the wind, her presence calming and reassuring. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours." she croons, a soft pout on her pretty pink lips as her hand hovers over your tear stained cheek.
"I shall take care of everything."
And indeed she does.
All of your debts are paid. All of them, every single one. Even your friends and family start getting random sums of cash, and there's such a large amount that they don't even know what to do with it! You can finish school in peace, start a business from scratch, travel the cosmos, the whole world is your oyster really!!
Jade gave you a pair of wings you never even dreamed of having. And she archived it all without even breaking a sweat. You thanked her profusely, over and over, showering the wonderful Lady Bonajade with every single kind word there ever was.
However, just as you were about to soar high into the sky, the horrible reality of the situation made you crash right back down to earth. Hard.
There's a sudden coldness around your neck, like a necklace of sorts. Her gloved fingers dance around the soft flesh, her eyes laser focused on the task at hand. You don't even get to ask her what was going on, not until she suddenly yanked you to the floor.
With a grunt, you fell onto your knees and was forced to look up at her, a satisfied glimmer in her eye.
"There." she said, her tone laced with confidence. "You look so much better like this."
She yanked on the chain once more, forcing you even closer to her, so much so that you could feel her thigh against your face. She kept you there on the ground for hours as she did her paperwork, her hand occasionally stroking your hair in a way an owner would pet a dog.
She didn't seem to care for your tears and if she did, she didn't comment on them. Any and all pleas were ignored, especially when they were about the dreadfully tight collar around your neck.
You were a fool to think that you could have gotten such a good deal without paying some sort of price. There was a part of you which was ready to sell something of yours, perhaps even an organ if need be.
You just didn't think that Jade would want your freedom in exchange for her services.
Sunday, who determined to purify you. You were such a filthy, dirty little slut who easily spread your legs to other men. He did not like that. He had to cleanse you, it's his duty to make you pure again.
So he tied you up with chain and isolated you from everything and everyone, until you begged him to stop, to have some mercy and let you go.
Unfortunately, that's not what he want to hear. Sunday wanted you to crawl onto your knees, kiss his boots and tell him you are sorry, that you would never spread your legs for anyone but him, your lord, your savior.
He didn't untie you, not yet. He wanted to make sure you really meant it. You had to worship his cock, suck it eagerly like your life depend on it. He would fill your mouth with his cum, demand you to swallow it all, then praise you for being such a good girl.
Now you are pure again. You thought you would finally be free. However Sunday did not let you go. He never intend to do that. Never.
Looking at the items the Starlight Pawnshop has to offer... I'd like to purchase the < Avian Necklace >, please. Because a pretty little songbird deserves only the prettiest chain with which to tie it down.
Paradise Lost, Paradise Found
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Avian Necklace: A silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of a bird mid-flight, imbued with a strange energy strong enough to shackle its wearer in paradise forever.
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Description: After the Charmony Festival, Sunday returns to Penacony with the Stellaron Hunters, desperate to be reunited with his lover.
It is a Monday night in Penacony, and all is well in the world.
Sure, your hotel room is cramped. The mattress is lumpy. The view is horrible. But it is real, and that is all that matters to you. After an eternity of dreams so sweet you felt like you were drowning in joy, you would rather be stuck in this dingy hotel room than some luxury VIP suite anyways. It’s comforting in all its imperfections.
That is, until you hear someone knock on your door.
The sound is rhythmic, three short, quick, evenly spaced knocks. It’s all you truly need to know who stands outside your door. Your heart already knows, beating so fast you feel like you could go into cardiac arrest.
But then you hear his voice. Smooth and rich like espresso, laced with a subtle sweetness. “Darling,” Sunday whispers quietly, “please, open the door.” It is both a request and a command, though it isn’t infused with Sunday’s usual pacifying power.
He liked doing this when you realized Ena’s dream was all an illusion; he would give you a chance to submit and acquiesce to his love and care, but when you inevitably refused, he had no qualms about worming his way into your mind. Once inside, he’d gently smash any shred of resistance you had, before pulling you into his arms and crooning his hymns, praising your holiness.
Isn’t this dream so blissful? he would ask you quietly, his hands ghosting over your skin, soft as feathers. I can give you anything you want. In Ena’s dream, it was true. Sunday could give you anything you wanted, even your freedom. But you knew it was an artificial imitation of independence; no matter where you traveled in the pseudo-universe, he was always there, always watching you. That was good enough for him: knowing you were safe, his hands cupped around your world like the way one would hold a bird.
The sound of Sunday’s voice breaks you out of your momentary reverie. “My dove, please, I don’t want our reunion to be bitter, but it seems like you aren’t giving me a choice.” You can feel the resonant harmonies in Sunday’s words grow louder, gripping your mind gently, giving you one more chance to open the door through your own free will.
You look around your room for any way out. On the opposite wall is a single window. You’re on the first floor. All you have to do is break through it and find someone. Frantically, you rush over, scrounging around for something to break the glass. You hear a loud sigh. “I wish you could just understand, my love,” Sunday laments.
The lock clicks.
Instantly, you are pounding and clawing on the glass like a rabid animal. In brief moments of clarity through your haze of desperation, you can feel your shoulder ache from ramming into the glass. Your throat feels raw. Someone is screaming. It’s you.
Sunday’s hands are just as excruciatingly tender as you remember, gliding over your arms and clasping your wrists in a tender but firm embrace. “Shh, it’s okay, my dear,” he whispers quietly. Beneath the insanity that clouds his own eyes, you can glimpse genuine concern in his gilded gaze. “Calm down, shh, yes, relax,” he coos.
All of the sudden, the world goes soft and blurry; every color in your hotel room, the pallid, washed-out grays and pale, muted blues seem to turn into a psychedelic kaleidoscope, luring you deeper and deeper into a state of tranquility.
With slow, delicate motions, Sunday lets go of one of your wrists, a placid smile gracing his face for a mere moment. Making sure that you won’t hurt yourself anymore than you already have, he reaches into one of his coat pockets, pulling out a small necklace imbued with the power of the Order.
“After the Charmony Festival, I was in such a deep state of despair. I thought I had lost everything. My dreams. My power. My home. My sister. My love.” His grasp on your wrist tightens, though you’re so lost in his spell that you can’t even feel the pain. “But now…now I have you again, my dearest,” he whispers hoarsely. Sunday can hardly believe you are real, with how constant misfortune has haunted his life. Time and time again, he has lost everything. Everyone. All his dreams and aspirations have shattered to pieces like stars crashing down to the earth from the heavens. But not you.
“Perhaps my plan was ill-timed,” Sunday muses as he loops the chain of the necklace around your neck. “But for right now, if I can’t give everyone paradise, then at least I can give it to you. And that will be more than enough,” he whispers, taking your appearance in, drinking it in like a man without water for forty days.
The effects of his tuning are fading, but the power of the necklace is taking root in your mind, warping and twisting it until you understand. Truly magnificent. He can see the clarity and consciousness in your eyes, but he can also see behind it, the compulsion to listen.
“Now, we must go,” Sunday says, his hands moving to clutch both of yours, pulling you up from where you’re sitting on the floor. “The rest of the Stellaron Hunters are likely getting anxious and ready to leave.” Still, he can’t help but steal one more moment alone. He presses a quick, light kiss to your lips, looking at your splendor one last time.
Sunday who forced reader to wear muzzle because reader were yapping too much.
"Just be a good dog and shut your mouth."
Sunday who then tied reader up and order them to sat still on his lap, naked.
"Good dog do as they're told."
Sunday who eventually can't hold back, spread your legs and thrust his cock deep in your hole, filled you to the brim with his seed. You moaning through the muzzle, couldn't move or resist as you're being used like a fleshlight.
"Good dog get some rewards "
Sunday who later gives you some headpat, kisses you on cheek and showers you with love and affection.
𐙚 topic。．when you turn down yandere hsr men’s proposals.
．。𝜗𝜚 cw。general yandere themes, suggestive content, MINORS DNI
．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and boothill. sunday and aven are regular additions to my posts lol, wrote boothills less intense bc he’s too silly to imagine
#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ ‘convinces’ you
。he will actually try to coax you into it. he doesn’t want to just force things onto you, that isn’t really what he wants
。“ill make you the happiest pretty bride, doll, just believe in me, hm?”
。continues to sweet talk you, telling you what he can do- buy you pretty dresses, give you anything you want, and he lists luxury after luxury.
。and he follows through his promises. even if you are being really disobedient, he’d still buy you more luxury than you could ever ask for. you will start questioning if you really don’t want this marriage- which is exactly what he wants you to do, to make you doubt yourself.
。his list goes on and on- a vip ticket to the Reverie, first row tickets to robin’s concerts, only the finest things that only his class of people could ever get their hands on.
。but in that list, he conveniently puts out ‘freedom.’
。if you disagree, he’d pout, asking you why- and when you tell him you want to be free from him, he’d laugh, calling you a silly girl.
。“i already gave you a choice when we met. it was your choice to pick a card from an unknown pile.”
。he’d have the wedding commence in some really luxurious property of the ipc, and he will, invite your family over- he’s merciful. but is it mercy when you know you won’t see them ever again?
。“it would be a shame if they don’t see the happiest moment of your life.”
STANDING there with the most beautiful dress you could humanly ask for, your expression is nothing but a shell as Aventurine smiles at you through those shades. Your eyes are everywhere but on his eyes, when you stare at them, you feel like you’re losing yourself.
you are glad your gown came with a veil over your head, nobody can see your dead eyes, except him.
As the officiant goes on with the questions, you grip your bouquet a little harder to the point you feel their stems crumple, just like your shriveling heart.
You snap out of it after hearing silence- you see his expecting eyes on you and you nod blankly. “I do.”
And your husband smiles even wider, and he steps closer and slowly, while staring at you with uncomfortable adoration through those tantalizing purple eyes, he kisses you. You are expecting a tender kiss in a ceremony; but his gloved hand sneaks onto the back of your head, pulling you in hastily.
“I love you so fucking much, princess—” he breathes into you, brushing aside the saliva that trickles down your chin after his intrusion. “It took quite a while, but you’re finally all mine.” He pulls up your hand that has your forced vow on it, he chuckles and softly kisses your fingers.
“‘m gonna make you so happy, so ecstatic, that you’re gonna thank me for it, love. you will thank me that I restrained you from everything else.” he whispers, and the people clap, cheering; your family too, who smiles, knowing nothing that it would be your last reunion.
#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ breaks you
。he just takes it on another level (and does not find your struggles entertaining unlike the former)
。he will be, really heartbroken at first. the head of the oak family asking you to be his lifelong sweetheart is almost like him giving you his life. you are his entire world- and the world has rejected him.
。“…I see. was I not good enough for you, angel?”
。although his emotions will be very hard to control, he’s very used to commencing plans. he’d tell you that he could ‘talk this out’ with you. unfortunately, it’s not a choice, but rather, an order.
。sunday is a ‘the end justifies the means’ kind of person. he will do any means to make you eventually accept your fate. that will include imprisoning you in some faraway place and leaving you abandoned for so long, you will be broken, wishing for any interaction. food is only given to you through a remote device, with no human interaction.
。sunday itches to be with you- he is compassionate for you, his heart will ache to see you sob into an endless cacophony. a part of him will be tempted to go to you and be with you physically, not watching you from a screen.
。he will repeat it- he will visit once a blue moon, comforting you, asking you if you changed your mind. when you ask him when he’d release you, his expression will harden.
。“it seems you haven’t learned anything, sweetheart.”
。if you are still stubborn, he will be a little impatient. he will speed up the process by adding new things in- maybe making you dream of a lovely, free life and when you wake up, you’re just alone. he will not resort to anything violent, he cares too much about you to hurt you. although, ‘hurt’ in his dictionary doesn’t apply to mentally hurting you.
。you will sob and show your most dramatic, fragile sides to a descent of madness, thinking you are truly alone until sunday comes to visit. you are wrong, though- sunday has always been with you, just not physically.
。he has always been watching you cry into the void through a screen. always.
MAYBE you have finally lost your mind, because when Sunday comes to visit you and your dull prison, you collapse to your knees and immediately plead him.
“Please,” you sob, clutching his legs desperately- he doesn’t crouch, but looks down- almost like a god addressing its follower. Sunday is no god for you, but you beg like he is.
“Please what?” He looks at you, fingers brushing over your hands, tilting his head just the slightest. His golden eyes glitter in the dim light. He is waiting for only one answer, there is only one correct answer to his question.
But you do not give him the right one. “Please just let me go,” you break down. Your heart is throbbing from all the crying, vision blurry and your head is light with no energy to talk anymore.
His gentle, serene smile immediately warps into that of a cold one. “Try again?” His fingers grip your hands hard, warning you that his patience is running thin.
When you remain silent except for your sobs, he crouches down to stare at you on eye-level, boring holes into your fearful expression. Unlike his deadly gaze, his words are soft and flow out quickly like a river- albeit with a sigh of exasperation. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to stop this just because you beg.” His hand pushes yours against the floor to knock you down, figure towering over you as he leans in to whisper- “—although, they’re very pleasant to listen to.”
“Honestly, I don’t get why you are struggling right now. It’s so easier to accept your eventual fate. Unless, you do like to seek pain.”
His other hand goes over your stomach, then slides tantalizingly slow up your body- you shiver and tremble at each touch that is too foreign to you. Cold fingers cage your neck and you choke on your breath.
“I’m not planning on hurting you, angel.” His voice is still gentle, but his eyes are telling another story, they seem keen to hurt you again and again. “But I did say I’ll resort to other… methods. Since none of them seem to work, I suppose the only solution would be caging you with a baby.” When your eyes widen, he laughs dryly. “The look on your face tells me that you didn’t expect it. But you will be my loving wife, dear. You will not be able to run or reject me, not when your own child is at stake. It makes only more sense to… make you bear children. My children.”
As he watches you struggle under him, trying to breathe, he feels like he has entered ascension. Soon, one of your pretty fingers will have his ring, and very very soon, he will have his first child- the very thought of him makes him lose his mind. He so wishes to make you his, claim you inside, watch your pretty pussy gush out his cum while he’s pressing deep into your womb- but he also wishes to see a mini version of him, or you. He finds it too adorable to withstand. He will vow that his children will grow up pure and innocent.
“We will be the happiest family in the world,” he purrs. “And I’ll make sure of it.”
#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིOOTHILL ⇢ will try to prove himself
。maybe a little similar to aven. but while the latter will materialistically give you things and spoil you around to convince you, boothill will more likely show himself off instead.
。“i can fudgin’ shoot an ipc lackey in the head from miles away, sugar- ya can’t see that ‘n any other guy.”
。he’ll try to show you his capability to protect you- which will likely end up in multiple people dying but as a galaxy ranger, he has morals, so he will probably use the ipc as his shooting dummies
。overall he’s sweet even if you reject his proposal- he will likely be furious, just not at you.
。oh lord but during the day you rejected him, be prepared for multiple news flashes of dead people across the street. the amount of emotion will be too much for his consciousness to restrain
。when you confront him, he’d apologize, albeit a little too nonchalant.
。“‘m sorry sweetie, got a lil outta hand last night.”
。per your wish, he won’t kill anyone who’s unrelated and innocent- but he’d still go on a killing spree in the ipc headquarters to the point you are blacklisted on their list because he would shout your name and rant why you didn’t accept him while he shoots his gun all around the place.
“BOOTHILL, what the hell are you doing?” You frown when he returns- even after rejecting his proposal, he drifts around you like a lost stray dog. And he is always covered in blood, looking furious- but when you talk, his expression simply melts away like butter to a grin that shows his sharp teeth.
“What do ya mean what I’m doin’? Makin’ sure nobody hurts you.” He snickers. He smells like metal, like he always does, but this time it’s overpowering, which lets you know what he’s been doing.
“I don’t need protection, Boothill. You can just leave me alone.”
You’re beyond annoyed at his clinginess. No matter how many times you reject him, he’d always come back, showing something new off to you, and half the time it wasn’t anything pleasant, but rather his list of crimes.
“Aww, don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He chuckles and flashes a grin and his other metal hand spontaneously pulls you into his embrace— you jump. When did his hand get there? “All I wanna do is to make sure my future wife is safe and sound. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”
“I told you, I’m not going to accept-“
“Ah ah! Wait and see, you will be, I promise. But don’t drag the chase a lil too long. Even I get impatient.” Something cold pressed against your forehead and you realize it’s his gun. When your expression turns aghast with fear, he barks an amused laugh.
“You scared of this? Nah, I’d never hurt ya. Won’t wanna turn your body into metal like mine.” Although he says this with a dark smirk, he doesn’t remove the gun. “The sooner you agree to it, the merciful I become. Ya don’t wanna see innocent guys die because of your stupidity, hm?”
Imagine Yandere!Sunday who babytraps you, what, you wanna leave him? no way, you have to stay with him, not like you have a choice. You're his pretty little bird after all, so even if he has to drug your meal n fuck a baby into you to make you stay with him, he doesn't mind. Pressing you into a mating press as he fucks you through a lot of rounds. Surely to fix this broken relationship, you just need a child to take care of, stay with him and complete his dream of a happy family!
