I'm Kiloniria, but just call Kilo or Niria, either one works, I mostly will write for platonic yandere, but there will be romantic yandere's every few blue moons. Keep in mind that the topics here in this blog will get heavy and or dark, given the nature of yandere themes, and my tendencies to explore deeper topics like depression, affects of alcoholism, and other subjects that may or may not trigger the audience.
However, I will always make sure to warn in the beginning in the stories with bold and red lettering or something so, fret not! Also, please keep in mind this is fictional, in no way am I promoting this in real life, you deserve better, and frankly it's not healthy!! (final also, English is not my first language and my grammar is semi-decent so sorry with grammar.)
I would prefer if people come here with caution because there will be dark/mature content either explicitly warned or implied. So, please, no matter the age, come into this blog with caution, the topics here can get heavy, and I wish not to harm anyone.
I'm doing my best in ensuring everything will get tagged correctly and warned properly, but other than that it's up to you whether you read or block me. Practice mindful internet safeties, this is more for you than for me.
And, again, this is fictional and don't try to justify this or I will tell your therapist about this! You shouldn't want this! Anyway, please have a benevolent day, my dear readers!
below are my rules, requests, my master list links, etc.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
i. rules
ii. requests & asks
iii. boundaries
iv. little o' me
v. master list [ oneshots ]
vi. master list [ multi-series ]
vii. master list [ snippets ]
RULES
i. My main rule is to be respectful, not everything here will be subjected to everyone's liking nor do I encourage any hateful behavior.
ii. As stated, I don't tolerate hateful, harmful, or deceptive behavior. We're just trying to enjoy a sub-genre here that is fictional.
iii. Be patient, I'm currently in higher education with a part-time job, and other responsibilities. So, I don't mind when someone asks when I will update, but don't constantly ask over and over again. It really discouraged me.
iv. Don't try to feed my works into AI, I doubt it will happen, but I don't consent to it in the first place.
v. I do have the right to not do something or write about something. This blog is being used as a side project to further encourage disturbing and horror-esque into my personal writing. Yes, that does mean this isn't my main account, but I rather not have this account be tied to my other one.
vi. more rules to add or go as time goes on.
REQUESTS + ASKS
i. If there's something you want me to write please be specific. Currently, I will only take platonic requests since this is what my blog will heavily endorse. However, if you have an idea or plot, I will also ask if you put it down and I'll do my best with writing it. These are some examples:
➜ "can I have a platonic yandere gender neutral parent with overworked teen reader?"
➜ "is it possible for you to write a platonic yandere vigilante, preferably female, with adult reader? Also, the world has superpowers and adult reader has a minor/super weak mind power."
➜ "could you write about p!yandere professor with a young adult reader?"
ii. If you have any questions about the world or setting of the plot, I'll answer that also, less it's a series type of question than I'll answer vaguely. I wouldn't want to spoil anything.
iii. If you're just checking in or a random misc. question then go ahead, though personal questions may or may not be answered. I'm more of a private person so, please respect that boundary.
BOUNDARIES
i. keep in mind as I continue to grow, write more, and explore subjects I will add more to these boundaries. And or subtract, but mainly add solely because this is more out of my comfort zone yet I want to better my writing hence this blog.
ii. also, if I ever write anything and it's offense or something to a culture, demographic, etc. please correct me, I'm doing my best when it comes to research and understanding other people's perspectives.
iii. race won't be a big thing with my characters, but unless something relating to the culture is a big thing for them, I will add notes accordingly, and any corrections from that culture are highly encouraged.
WHAT I WILL WRITE
can ask: any type of reader, however, it's iffy whether I take male!reader, but I will do my best. allusions of heavy topics like depression, suicidal, paranoia, mind break, etc. other yandere topics, but it will only be me who decides whether I explore the depth of the topics. again, I'm not encouraging this, but it's practice for me.
WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE
as I continue to grow and if I get requests, I'll add more to this. but these are my main, no go.
don't ask: any type of incest, rape, age play, smut, pedophilla, lolicon, racism, and heavy gore. I don't do OC writing or fandom writing at the current moment, I'm not in too many fandoms hence why I won't write for them. I need to get into more media so, I will like some recommendations.
LITTLE O' ME
i. now for little o' me, again, I'm a private person so, any personal questions that aren't either about my health or my stories, will most likely be unanswered unless I think it wouldn't hurt to share.
ii. I'm Hispanic/Latino American and I love learning about other languages/cultures from my own and of my own. I hadn't been told about my culture growing up so, if you're confused like me then fret not! You're not the only one. :)
iii. I'm a young adult and currently in higher education, specifically majoring in Art! I love drawing and any crafts so, I plan to make a career out of it!
iv. I'm part of the LGBTQ+, specifically under the aromantic spectrum and heavy sapphic. Also, I'm an agender person! Though if you want to use any pronouns she/they are the ones I go for.
v. This is not my first account, I have another account here that will not be mentioned, and I will implore for anyone to not find it. I rather keep this separate.
vi. any research suggestions, language learning tips, and any learning methods are highly encouraged. I love learning, I just don't like sitting in a typical learning setting.
vii. funnily enough, I'm not a big fan of horror, ironic no? I just can't stand the gore or blood. Also a cat lover and a heavy sweet tooth. I do watch anime and read manga, though not often, and not a lot of media or shows. I prefer action, fantasy, found family type of things so, any suggestions or recommendations are, also, gladly encouraged.
viii. other than that, I hope to you, my dear readers, that you have a marvelous day, and continue to do your best during the rest of your week. let's all strive to be our best!
this story is currently on the fritz, but I wanted to share since I need to figure out how to write the prologue. yes another series!!!
platonic yandere villain group and gn!alien "teen" reader.
gn!alien "teen" reader is actually older than a lot of its members, but by their species standards they are quite young. human wise? over the cusp of two hundred years.
gn!alien teen reader who hardly has a grasp on the human tongue and talks with minimal words and a deep accent.
gn!alien teen reader came across the leader of the villain group on accident when they were running away from the government.
back then, there was hardly a villain group, it was just the leader, by himself sitting in hatred suffocating him. seeing you for the first time it was like something clicked due to how you looked.
gn!alien teen reader who stuck out with the leader and eventually a mismatch group began to form. not like your options were big. either continue being by yourself or finally hide within the human species because there was no way back home for you.
gn!alien teen reader who gets taught the human tongue by the villains, but still sucks. so, the villains decided to make a new language. it was efficient and it was easily understood by you!
platonic yandere villain group who didn't know your origins till they deciphered it by the small snippets you say in English.
"Not sapien."
"Tūlikijani I am. Never human begin with."
"Far here. Void. Stars. Big ground."
platonic yandere villain group that treats you as if you were any teenager, ensuring your identity is hidden with big baggy clothes and hiding your wings, horns, ears, and tail.
did I mention gn!alien teen reader is only humanoid in shape? Leathery jet black wings, "bat-like" your group would say, horns that pretrude your head protecting your bat ears that are highly sensitive, and a tail that looks like a "lion's tail" all define your otherworldly biology.
so, of course, platonic yandere villain group must ensure no one finds out about you! no need to worry they ensure you still get your fair share of fights. after all your ingenio was far stronger than any ingenio ever seen on this planet.
it does make them wonder... will they ever catch up to your level? or was it because you were otherworldly that your ingenio was just stronger? curious.
gn!alien teen reader who sticks with platonic yandere villain group even when the main hero group after you all gets a new member.
a new member who happens to originate from a world far beyond earth. the moment you saw those pink feathery wings your sights were set on the new hero.
gn!alien teen reader who despite having little to no understanding of the human tongue, understands how hatred feels by one another because the moment you saw that pink, that pretty and polish feathery wings, your little fangs stood out.
gn!alien teen reader who huddles close to platonic yandere villain group without knowing how deep they care for them, but they understand on a fundamental level, why they do the things they do.
justice comes one way or another. through force or through trail. either way, platonic yandere villain group is not gonna let you go and neither will you let the new hero or the hero group tear away a home you are just starting to understand!
they'll ensure that the moment they let go, it wasn't because they wanted to, but because it was the heroes fault.
I actually have quite a lot of notes for this one. I've been on and off the power system, but if you want an understanding it's a mix of MHA with quirks and Naruto with yin and yang.
Tūlikijani means "wind green" or "green wind". Again. I have a lot of notes and I'll gladly share them if you all are interested, but this idea has been itching my brain. Just didn't know if anyone would be interested in it. because most of the narrative centers around other characters rather than you, the reader, the times it does it usually is very cut throat.
like how the reader met the characters, the characters first impression, and how over time they become possessive or any other type of yandere. and yes, the reader by human standards is around 200-250 years old BUT to them and any other members of their species on their planet they are quite young.
also, my apologies for giving a physical description of the reader. I try not to describe any features on purpose so that whoever you imagine as the reader fits into the role somewhat smoothly. I only mention physical descriptors if they are relevant to the plot.
and this reader has to have the descriptors since the alien species have unique features. final also, I created the alien species and all of that. I have my notes and all of that explaining certain things. but I don't want to ramble too long. thank you for your time!
official masterlist for stories that started out as a oneshot and turned into a twoshot or multi-fic. or for stories that are meant to be a series since i thought it was worth a shot to expand on it's universe. pretty self explanatory, i think?
˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙— CATEGORY SECTIONS ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
key: 🌸 platonic yan, 🥀 romantic yan, 🍘 ambiguous yan,🌵 heavy angst, 🌧️ angst, 🐑 fluff, ⚠️ heavy topics, 🌕 ongoing, and 🌒 completed | 🪭 gn!reader, 🎩 male!reader, and 🍡 fem!reader
.᯽ ݁˖· ─. 🌸🪭 CONDITIONAL LOVE ᛝ 🌕 ᛝ
p!yandere roommate x gn!older sibling reader x p!yandere family
a series revolving around the guilt of an older sibling moving on from a toxic family dynamic yet it seems that the reader keeps coming back to them when they falter in mind and spirit... Well, good thing their roommate is here to help!
official masterlist for my oneshots and my oneshots only! if I ever think or get requested enough to expand on the idea, it will still fall under one shot since it is based on it, but the expansion will fall under a different masterlist. asks and questions are allowed, but they won't be expanded any further, writing wise!
˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙— CATEGORY SECTIONS ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
key: 🌸 platonic yan, 🥀 romantic yan, 🍘 ambiguous yan,🌵 heavy angst, 🌧️ angst, 🐑 fluff, and ⚠️ heavy topics | 🪭 gn!reader, 🎩 male!reader, and 🍡 fem!reader
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🛸── .✦ "MONSTER" YANDERE'S
🌸🪭 LITTLE GAME — parasitic doppelganger x gn!trad reader
🌸🪭 BLINDFOLDED — weeping angel x gn!teen reader
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🛸── .✦ DIVINE YANDERE'S
🌸⚠️ DIVINE HATRED — sealed deity x gn!vessel reader
TW: murder, death, child soldier, locking up the reader, self-hatred, implied the destruction of villages, suicidal ideation, stockholm syndrome(?), aftermaths of war, PTSD (oversimplified), and objectification. reader's age is ambiguous on purpose! if you want to know a rough estimate, late teens to early twenties (17-25), is what I have the reader's age to be.
please tell me if I missed anything!
key: (f.name) = first name + (l.name) = last name
For as long as you've been alive, there was always a voice inside your head. One that foretold painful deaths, eternal torture, and vengeful calling if, for one reason or another, were to escape this blasted cage.
Your body.
It was a volatile spirit. A deity that was cursed into usage by human hands, but you didn't know that. No, no, you were kept oblivious and told that the reason why you couldn't hang out with other kids was because they didn't have the duty you held. They didn't have the strength to keep a deity from running rampage.
You couldn't realize they didn't want you anywhere near them in the first place. How they feared the potential of the deity taking hold of you when you were so young.
"You're our hero," your caretaker told you softly, fixing the wrinkles in your formal attire, "-and heroes never stop doing what is right."
---
You were young. Naive. The deity knew that, mocked you for it. Every mishap, every tantrum, every ignorant choice you made because it's jailer was a "Deficient weasel! Why couldn't you see that!"
It wasn't nice hearing it, but you had no choice other than to thicken your skin. That is what the people wanted because imperfection left cracks and if there were cracks… "We can't let (f.name) out of our sights. What if the Devil comes out?"
Left people fearful. If your voice wasn't the right pitch, if you didn't intentional let yourself be small, if you were too small, if you were too loud, too careless, if you had low marks in your exams, if you got too high... Every detail about yourself was judged down to your breathing.
You couldn't be too big, but you couldn't be too small either. You were an ace in their hometown. You were their biggest weapon if war ever broke out.
Slip ups weren't affordable, perfection was obsolete.
---
Or it was more like when war broke out.
It happened with no coordination. Your home was attacked, houses were burning, people massacred. You woke up, sweating as the creature laughed at your terror. It always did, "Why do you continue to do this?" you asked, strained.
That earned you an entire body ache as its anger seeped into your blood and into your immune system, ringing alarm bells into the nerves woven neatly in your skin, "Your arrogant race took everything from us. Your blight is my curse for being born in the first place."
What was there to expect? Your hands curled into the blanket, no retorts or curses to the creature inside you. No telling it to suck it up, instead you slowly went back to bed. Laying down despite the ache running up and down your body.
A quiet groaned escaped your lips, eyes teary, but no one came to comfort you. That's fine. You were used to it, "I'm sorry." However, the deity didn't expect that. "Sweet honey only traps the flies around it, pest."
A shaky sigh, "I know… but I'm still sorry, you didn't deserve it. Not any of you," A heart that felt pain for others was dangerous, "I'm sorry I can't do much… I wish I could." Maybe then your childhood would've been a little more different.
Your eyes closed by themselves, the aches a phantom pain in the morning, the voice just as persistent as last night. Your ears couldn't differentiate a difference until much later.
---
You couldn't react, but the people around you did when war reached your area. You didn't want to go. The idea of hurting another person for the sake of this village, your village. One life for the betterment of thousands. Killing another person for peace? No, no!
You wanted peace, but in the cost for another life?!
Your place was settled.
You had no choice to go, you were their ace, the one to turn the tables around.
This wasn't one of those options where you could choose. Could you choose in the first place? There was no say in what you wanted to do in this scenario. Then again when did you?
You were in their front lines, you had no choice but to withstand the grueling conditions, the loud noises, the gruesome looks of the dead. No one died the same, no body parts were spared, and no mind or heart could handle the violence lest they swallowed everything they knew and threw it away.
War passed and it came, but you weren't the same. Your hands shook when alone, hands bloody and terrified to hold anything pristine. Sometimes you still think the faces you killed were haunting you again. Following your steps, shadows, and breathes.
Asking you why couldn't they go back home. The face of the young men… the drawing of his little girl in his pocket.
Whispering in your ear why a weapon like you could go back into the shelf while they get discarded, unable to return into the shed. The woman's body was torn into shreds thanks to the Deity's power inside you. You didn't realize how much you needed to restrain yourself… She didn't leave this world swiftly.
Humming threats that were hard to differentiate from the Beast inside. Its voice hasn't reach your ears since you came back because the fire inside of you was an inferno they didn't start.
You weren't the same. The village didn't care because they were safe. The people were fine. Some families were not. You were not. You couldn't stand looking at yourself for too long.
---
It was dark in your head, it wasn't always the case. Back then it was lighter, filled with a little bit more life. A soft pocket of fantasy between yourself and the Deity, moss and grass. Small sprouts of fauna. Only for the eyes of two.
A peace treaty even when one party didn't agree.
The small pocket was barely there. Now.
The moss was withering and the little light left was collapsing. The structures were decaying. It was irony in it's finest, "I'm sorry." You said softly to the immortal. An action you've been repeating more after all was said and done. Its eyes narrowed, you wouldn't realize the change, you hardly recognize anything anymore, "I'm sure the others would've handled this better than I am…"
The cage rattles, you looked up, but instead of bright eyes. Novice and apologetic were spartan and dead. The eyes of a person who saw the worst and has never been the same since, like a part of them dead along the trail back home.
It was something it was used to seeing, but not in it's jailer. It could still see the same phantom of their first interaction, how you reached into the caged, and despite the fear you felt afterwards… The wound on your hand forming a scar. One of many. Still came back.
Further away yet still in sight.
How you used to always try to break the rules in order to do something for yourself, how you laughed, and told it your escapees. You still kept that sheen, but when you came across the meaning of war… When you, you, came across what actually happens when pride over one's nation comes first before the people.
The numbers of life snuffed or taken, the way necessary evil colours your world, your eyes began to loose something. It didn't do anything about it. It wishes it had so… because out of all their jailers, you were willing to interact with them.
A child. A lonely, oppressed child wanted company from a being made out wrath and duty to those it crosses and protects in due diligence.
"Shut it, will you primitive scatterbrain." It sounded angry, probably ashamed on how its cage could barely stand after taking so many lives. Or maybe it was disgusted at the idea it couldn't do it itself… "Pay attention when I'm speaking to you, dunce!" It growled, body pressed harshly on the bars as it tried to swipe your body.
Not to kill, not to torture you like it promises you so many times. It took a bit before it did grab you, before you just left it happen, dragging you close. So, so close. You could taste how saturated the air was with its anger alone.
From records, you read it wasn't always a cage the Deity resided in. It depended on the vessel. Yours just happened to be a cage, compared to how other vessels used to trap it, yours was far too lenient. But it didn't grab you to enact vengeance. Nor to instill its promises.
"You're soft," it growled, long claws going up your face, making sure to not cut through skin yet leaving the silent command clear. While you are the jailer, it didn't mean it couldn't hurt you. Far from it. "-and you're decaying!" It grabbed your skull tightly, you hardly flinched, it hardly felt anything to you.
---
"The moment you cannot care for your life no longer, give it all to me. Understood, Karunā?"
---
You didn't remember the interaction, it was almost like their was a blockage to it. The little tiny bits you did remember, gave a bad image of the deity. It felt unfair to judge it for a single bad action so, you didn't bother to get the full picture.
---
You wished you did now because the fire was growing. The wood was burning and smoke was growing. It was an accident, you didn't mean to harm anyone! You were just spaced out, someone put a hand on you, teeth were bared, and your body acted on offense.
A snap in your caricature.
The village didn't take it kindly, didn't ask why you were so off since the war, why you hardly felt proud of your village. It's a slap to your face, getting dragged by your arms like a disobedient child, finally hearing the unfiltered words of a village you gave your life too. A village that broke you for a war you didn't want in.
Seeing disgust, fear, apathy. Seeing their hate for your existence.
It made sense now… how little this world cared for you. 'Do the others feel this way? Are their villages… this cruel as well?' Your eyes watered unintentionally, the chief kneel down to your level, whispering that they'll need to retest your loyalty again.
They'll need to fix you again. Cruel kindness because the Deity you possessed, the spirit inside you, was the strongest. Each and every jailer were handpicked. You were one of the last.
You were special enough to be able to within its volatile strength. You didn't want to be special. You didn't want to relearn. "Can't I get another chance?" your voice broke. Your heartbeat racking up as the chief caressed your face, a mockery of reassurance.
That is how it felt to you, "We can't do that, and for that I'm sorry, (l.name). Your attitude needs to be remade, we must ensure you never do that again,"
You can't be human. Cannot make mistakes that make you like the malevolent spirit inside you.
The audience was looking, traitors were killed yet you couldn't be because there wasn't another jailer. There wouldn't be another one unless it came from your own blood.
Tears fell, the hands wiped them away, you didn't want it. Didn't want to learn. Didn't want to-…!
---
"Do you wish to give it all up?"
Eyes that no longer had a sheen, that wanted to turn into themselves, hold and squeeze till only black dots appeared. Till there wasn't a voice anymore. Where a body couldn't feel the pain anymore. It wasn't like you found life meaningless, you just hated the pain your actions have caused.
How lives were over your head and every time you go to bed, another person cries because someone didn't make it back home.
"Please… it-it hurts! Make it stop. Just make it stop!" You yelled inside your head, your physical head turned to the ground, tears falling, your throat hurting for holding back a scream. Every stare, every shame, every eye, every fear, every limb, every disregard, and every heart… "It hurts… please just-"
---
"What is that, (l.name)?"
---
The cage was in front of you, a palm outreaches to you, grabbing your body whole. Only a head peaking out a fist, the being brought you inside the bars, there was a burning sensation around you, and a cry was choked out of you.
Your body involuntarily responded before the head of the Chief was sliced clean off their body. People reacted, but the energy, the atmosphere, changed in response to the control voluntarily given.
Your eyes shifted, milky white with an overlay of a soft light lime green replaced your usual eye color. A posture that didn't change, but the meaning wasn't all the same. Screams erupted and people, guards, did what they could. Some tried to save themselves, others fell, you hardly recognized the village anymore after control was forcefully given to you.
The tears you spilled earlier came back full force, but not for yourself, for the people you murdered. It wasn't you, however, that caused this. It still felt like it did.
"You, I," you felt it, right next to you even though their was no tangibility, "I didn't ask for this to happen. I-"
---
"Didn't mean for this to happen," a low rumble ran through your chest, to your horror you felt yourself laugh. A mix of confusion and satisfaction, "You never specified, Karunā." A grin spread, it wasn't your voice, your actions, you were being shoved before you could fight.
The space from before your decaying, the space inside your head was back to normal, but not because of you. It was, "We made a vow, Karunā. You gave it all up, now no one will hurt you." The deity.
It rebuilt it; the moss, the grass, the soft light that wasn't overpowering, the bit of water, and fireflies. A fantasy place you read about, one you wished were real sometimes, "Ever again, I can promise you that, Amar." The deity promised, watching it fall down as your conscious was recessed inside your mind.
---
No human or sound could reach you, only the faint rustle of wind that wasn't there, only you… and the deity. A cage between the two, the most lenient prison created for it, was now for you.
---
Only a burning, warm, sensation wrapped around you. The deity carefully wipes your tears, murmuring quietly about the deaths of people, about the challengers that come to it, and how soon you'll meet the rest of its siblings.
"And if they are as special as you, Amar, then you'll finally get siblings to acknowledge as your own blood." It grinned, soft touches mark your skin through the bars. You were small inside the cage, minute for its place yet you lean to the only touch available.
You didn't mean for it to happen. For all of this to happen. "I'm sorry," you whisper softly, it laughed at you, raising your chin, sharp claws that should end you, "Apologetic as always, not too worry, Karunā. We will have all the time in word for you to accept a new change inside that head of yours."
The claws poke a bit, a grounding mechanism that wasn't yours yet helped no matter how much you wished it didn't.
"You'll see to it, no matter how long this decree will grind you, (f.name)." It promised, a vow that you unwillingly accepted because it hurt. This cage hurts, "Rest now, Amar, and wait for me."
Again, and again. Alone in your mind. Inside a cage meant for a being bigger than you. Bigger than anything you could imagine. You laid by the bars, a pin in a box, eyes with a wet sheen, but a sheen nonetheless.
You don't know how much you can last.
Don't know when you'll finally break in this long-suffering.
You didn't have much time.
You feared when the burns would start to feel like hugs. When the touches would become comforting, not a warning. When its voice will become your anchor.
You're breaking, and all you wanted was peace.
hello! hello! again, thank you for reading this far, especially the heavier topics mentioned here. try to read some sort of fluff after this? or drink a warm hot chocolate that helps me a lot!
if you think this is somewhat or similar to Naruto, I unintentionally made similarities. the differences between reader and Naruto are very stark. reader's village backstabs them while Naruto were open to their disdain. both are cruel, but at least one was more open than the other.
doesn't make it okay! also, I never read or watch Naruto, I plan to, but most of my information is through clips and fanfiction so, please don't judge too harshly! I try to steer away from it. so, it can stand on its own.
please take care of yourself, and I'm sorry for a simplified version of PTSD and war. I hope I could convey the pain or tension decently? if not, that is also okay. again, take care and until next time! (I'm trying to make my master lists, it's very different geez Louise.)
You weren't their second choice nor third– not even fourth!
You were their last choice. Ironic, no?
Well, of course it was, but it wasn't like you knew… the full extent that is. You had an inkling, but they never confirmed or denied it. Not like they would, that at least you knew for certain, but it was fine, you suppose.
---
It was by accident that their eyes finally landed on their Mignonette. You were their roommate, and at first it pissed them off. They had planned every detail, down to the dormitory to finally be with their next Aster. Honestly, the major they are in now wasn't what they enjoyed, but their Aster was going into it so–…
They had to do what they had to do or in other words, all is fair in love and war.
A snort escaped their lips before silencing themselves. You look so vulnerable when you were sleeping, and the fact it took to the second semester to finally get you to sleep soundly with them in bed. "Tut. Mignonette, you really are so cruel to me." A soft whispered voice said on top of your head as they scrolled through the security cameras. Seeing how you went by your day earlier.
However, it wasn't until they moved in that they met you. Not their Aster.
Their light.
Their fuel for life that was slowly bleeding out of them when seeing your poor get together outfit and the eye bags underneath your measly eyes. In short, they hated you. Everything about you was just downright atrocious. Your looks, your eyes, your clothes.
Everything was a poor imitation of a human being.
It isn't until later they figured out that their Aster pulled out and quickly fixed you with them. Neither of the two shared a major. There was hardly an overlaps in personality. No wonder both parties got along like oil and water.
But of course, they couldn't ask to move or anything—not yet. They needed to know what happened with their Aster. So, obviously they had to play along till they got what they wanted.
They could do that. They were patient. Patient like a predator waiting to seek their teeth on the helpless little prey.
---
Over the course of the first half of the semester they did everything in their power to get under your nerves. Small little remarks, backhanded compliments, and even moving some of your stuff.
They tried a lot of stuff to get underneath your skin, but whatever you were made of was tough shit. Who can tolerate someone breaking their favorite cup?
Who could tolerate being told that what they're doing is amazing for a person like them?
Who can tolerate their entire actions being scrutinized?
You. Apparently.
It isn't until your first midterms that cracks started showing.
That is when they got intrigued.
---
They trotted into their room, dark hair being blown away from their face, and backpack hitting the floor of a weirdly clean room.
A quiet, solemn room. A clean room greeted them. They paused. Usually, there's sound. Any sort of sound. Like a weirdo, you always had some sort of song or melody playing, not too loud, but not too quiet either.
It happened for two weeks straight before they accepted it as the norm for this dorm room.
Yet it was quiet.
You were in the room. They were most certain of that because of the shoes near the door. They flicked on the lights, waiting for a reaction, a sound, anything.
Nothing.
That earned a raise eyebrow, they looked to the floor, checking if the shared bathroom lights were on. Nothing either. It's when they went deeper into the room that the tone of everything shifted.
---
There you were on your desk. Catatonic. There was hardly any light in your eyes. It was like there was nothing, but a husk in front of them. It's only when a hand was put on your shoulder, the husk looked up.
A shiver went down their spine.
How could eyes with barely any light seem so- soulless?
You didn't recognize them. Didn't made an effort to greet them or anything.
"(f.name)? (f.name)..? You in there?"
.
..
…
"…(l.name?)"
---
Your eyes watered instantously, the look of anger, hurt, and betrayal. You shoved them away, muttering curses, and glaring at someone.
They knew you weren't talking to them, but it felt like it did. Every curse, every emphasize word, every gesture. You were mad.
An anger that hit like a viper, waiting for an opening, shouts were like hisses, every dig into their character was like venom. You weren't seeing them, but it felt like it did.
"You- you absolute nobody! Taking away the attention because you're nothing with no light! Just what are you? Who are you? Nobody! Nobody is what you are if your precious spotlight isn't near you-..!"
It wasn't meant for them.
It felt like it did.
Your eyes widen, your hand going over your mouth, and suddenly- suddenly, those eyes with no light became the brightest. The sun hit them just right, and the Aster they sought after was pale compared to when you realized just where you are.
"I-I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean- I!"
The tears that fell were like diamonds and you fell under an invisible weight that was abrading your eyes from shining to their fullest. It's probably not the healthiest way to fall in love, but they did.
For you.
Love came in many flavors and the ones they sought after before you were nothing more than the ones read in fairytales and media. The one they sought from you however, was more innocent, ironically, but no less all-consuming of your person.
They wanted those eyes to shine, but not through the pain that was constantly prohibiting it. Endorsing those pupils to shine with tears when it became too much.
There was never an urge to care for someone. To see them in their brightest. They wanted a partner for the longest time to stay with them. Be with them. To have them only in their minds.
You didn't have to because the moment, they met you on your lowest, you've already fallen. Holding their sweater tightly and breaking apart. Shards that poked, but never drew blood.
The moment they wrapped you in their arms, shoved the rolling chair away and had their back facing the wall whilst murmuring soft affirmations. You were puddy. Not wanting to let go, but too terrified to let go because you never had this before.
Never felt the hands of another person that didn't want anything in return.
---
You would feel embarrassed, later on.
You would continue to apologize when you cried, when you shouted, when you couldn't endure anything anymore.
Every shove, every word, every remark was followed by an apology unless there wasn't an ill intent behind.
And they continued to offer a shoulder, run their fingers up your scalp, and whispering sweet poison to you because they wanted you.
They were the first person to ever choose you, no matter how much venom they sink into your bloodstream because they at least didn't dug their nails into your skin.
They didn't ask for anything physical or a favor. Just attention. Just your companionship.
They didn't nitpick your choices or pointed out mistake. They encouraged it, even apologized for their earlier behavior and continued to apologize through other methods.
They remembered little facts about yourself, but sometimes they were a little too accurate-.
---
They were the first person to choose you first.
Your eyes opened, you didn't want to wake up, but the fingers massaging your scalp helped a little. "Now, now go back to sleep, Mignonette." A little noise escaped your lips, the blanket was tucked up higher, stopped by your nose, and suddenly the body agreed. "Go to sleep… soon…."
A soft chuckled escaped their lips, they gave a hum as a response, but it didn't reach your ears. Your body evened out, soft in-takes of breath, and your face was relax. They caress the parts that were exposed; soft and lazy. "I will do so, soon Mignonette. I just want to see your beautiful face a little longer in this state before I do so."
They know that now.
So, they'll make sure you remember this feeling continuously so, that you will never find a reason to find it in another because they are enough. They should be enough.
If it takes a bit for you to finally realized that, then so be it. Now, if only your kin knew when to stop… that'll be great. Fantastic even.
I tried to challenge all the edits of Radiohead into this because the choir version of Let Down is continuously playing in my FYP on Insta and I'm downright wanting to sob because of the pain I feel.
Yes, I'm fine! So, no need to worry, it's just I'm kinda- emotional constipation? If you know what I mean? Writing and art are my outlets and seeing the Artemis edits, dinosaurs, and the other ones using the Let Down - Choir Version by Radiohead, really know when to draw the string.
So, hopefully I played with the emotions, correctly! Hopefully. Sorry for any pain I caused. I try to hold some punches when it comes to writing angst/emotional stuff.
Tell me if I miss any tags or warnings, again posting toward while I'm somewhat tired, still tired. So, changes may or may not happen!
TW: mainly kidnapping, implications of a p!yandere family, paranoia, and allusions to derealization/loss of reality, transformations, and unable to leave/trapped in a pocket dimension. Deaths and missing persons are also included here, but not to the reader- for the most part.
You knew stumbling into this part of the forest was dangerous. The canopy of leaves and large roots hardly let any light through. Unlike owl harpies or werewolves, you couldn't see in the dark; humans weren't adapted to such environments.
You weren't adapted to be much.
Humans were humans.
The only good thing that came out of it was being versatile. Being durable. Being good enough to be resilient in moments other creatures could not be. That is what humans are good for; survival.
Whatever was in these part of the woods, whatever unjustifiable, stupid, means lead you here, you heavily doubted you could get out of it through sheer will. That is what you truly believed in underneath those layers of skin and muscles.
Under tendons that hold the muscles together, and skeletal marrows that creates blood unable to be replicated. What structural integrity made a human, human.
These part of the woods were known throughout your community as a classified dead zone. In normal day-to-day life speech, no one knew what monsters lived here. No one could figure out if they were hostile. Friendly.
If they ate flesh, if they were feasted on souls or blood.
Hell, no one knew if it was monsters that lived there. It could be another human settlement, but humans are so rare nowadays. Other than your family, you could name maybe two other human families living in your monster town.
At some point in time, Earth was heavily populated by humans. Giving the species ability to over consume, it was inevitable they lead themselves to their own downfall. It didn't help that in the human's eye they couldn't fester a world where the creatures of their folklore were in fact, true.
When the number of humans dwindled, 'monsters' took the advantage, and almost ended the human species. Almost. Eventually an agreement was settled and the remaining humans, barely reaching two thousand, were left to integrate into a world that their ancestors once lived in.
That is all to say, a system was put into place in order to protect the remaining humans and monster-folk alike so, no one could trigger another civil war. One of those systems were the Environmental Zones.
Areas where travel could or could not be possible due to the creatures residing within. When a zone is classified, it means there is no answer. Classified means their is an unknown variable residing within a given area. In other words, it is called a classified dead zone because those who entered, never come back, many have tried to document the zone.
So, so many.
Yet almost no information was given or found. There were only three known facts about this particular place.
One. The parameter was roughly 150 square miles.
Two. The forestation surrounding the area was dense, denser than usual, letting no light enter even when the sun is out.
Three. When there's—
SNAP.
Your heart dropped as it sped up, pounding your ribcage, and blood vessels to pump faster. To pump harder. It was impossible to look around, but you knew if you ran back the way you came from- maybe, just maybe you'll get out of here alive.
You hope so. You want to defy the odds that were against your human nature.
SNAP. SNAP. SNAP.
The moment another snap of twigs? Branches? Whatever was causing the sounds of roots to break, you were running. Running and hopping you didn't crash into a trunk. There was no chance of looking behind you.
---
It hurt. It hurt to run in a forest no eyes or words could see. This forest was terrifying. It didn't need to make sound, it didn't need to make noises that would send any wild animals running or pausing. It just had to make very few to tell danger was nearby.
You couldn't tell how long you were running, and the crazy part was the fact you didn't get into too deep because you weren't fully stupid. Not fully stupid to listen to the Phantoms, Vampires, the Yeti new in town, and every other monster in your high school that their so call 'Freight Dares' were plausible.
It was a stupid dare you listened. A dare that is causing your life.
SNAP. GRIND. SNAP.
A light just around the fog.
A tiny little hope.
A wide opening.
---
Than your heart dropped again.
Face started to pale and tears finally started to come out because what else could you do?
What else could a human with no evolutionary skills do?
There is no heightened senses. No wings to fly. No tapetum lucidum allowing for night visions.
Just your fears. Just your human versatility allowing you to adapt to whatever situation that lead to other monsters dying due to their fast heart rate.
Because this- this-this creature! It looked ethereal yet your body, your gut and soul understood… understood how uncannily something like this, in a forest known to be a dead zone, rumored to house some unknown creatures that took, took, and took life before it could make a sound.
GRIND.
Something came behind you. Before you could even make a noise, before letting any sound out through your dried lips, and turning around to see the same creature. You eyes were covered.
Soft and yet tightly bounded to your head.
Through those very same dried lips, a tiny little squeak came out, and a hoarse graveling voice chuckled. It was simultaneously the most dainty yet dried up thing you've ever heard in your measly short life.
---
"Now… now little Angel…" It was cold, cold and tough like they were made out of stone. "You're far from… home, yes?" It sounded like a question contextually, but your gut told you otherwise. You try to shift or get your body away from it- but the arms made of stone, didn't let you move otherwise.
Other whispers. Similar in tone, but vocally different accents. Some were sad. Some were curious. Some were apathetic. Some were gentle. Some were happy.
But they all had the same hoarse-ness that came from hardly speaking. If given a guess since the arm was made out of stone than in theory the rest of the body is made out of stone.
SNAP. GRIND.
"I think… it is. How… glorious this little… Angel."
It took a lot, too much for your standards, to let any noise out. It felt like thousands of eyes were watching you, maybe there was and you were caught within their trap. Maybe there was just two and you were imagining all those eyes that track how your heart beats, how many intakes you take of air, how many times it takes your blood to pump throughout your body, how you quench and unquenched your sweaty palms.
"W-What are you?" There.
Finally a noise. A word. A sentence.
Made by your tongue. Your vocal cores.
Then a melodic laughter, coming from vocal cords that can hardly produce sound, whatever fear running through your body amplified by that tiny little detail. You couldn't see it, couldn't tell how wings made of stone surrounded you in a frozen embrace. The one behind you carefully ran their fingers through your scalp sending shivers down your spine.
"Where are… your manners Angel?" The shift of stone and sensation of air being cut off. You didn't need to have your sight to tell this particular being was keeping you close. "Well… Hominins called us… Angels of Weeping." You tried to think back at any human media that ever mentioned 'Angels of Weeping,' coming off short till you thought of another alternative.
"Weeping Angels."
There was the soft, melodic laughter again, the stone statue nuzzled you, praising how, "Smart this… Little Angel is… So… so smart!" But it felt like you just signed your death certificate and helped dig and bury your own coffin.
"So… cute… don't worry Little… Angel, you won't… become like us… but you… are still one… of us for… now on."
You shouldn't have listened to the insane dare because maybe- just maybe you could've been home with your family. With warmth and food in your stomach. Maybe continuing to follow one too many rules on how to be close, but not too close to monster-folk. How to rely on your family.
Your human family.
But you could've stayed home, enjoy a hot beverage, and be in your own bed instead of here! Anywhere, but here. Another squeak yet it sounded like tears were being held back. The creature- the angel-like being fussed over you, "Now… now… Little Angel… no need to… cry!!"
"Home… I want home!" You croaked. "Silly silly… Angel… You are home!"
It didn't feel like it.
It didn't feel like home one bit.
---
The third most well known fact about this particular dead zone was that sound was obsolete. When there's a sound run. Because it's already behind you.
A/N: So... surprise? I had this in my drafts for a bit. It was an idea I didn't know how to formulate because this story already has a universe? Like this is an old universe I had where the premise is there is a town with four main schools.
The schools are heavily monster based and humans were non-existent, but I thought it would be funny that the school enforcers- the police of the school be young monsters that couldn't function in society. The top dog was the experiment that was made into a human's image.
I never posted it nor explored much of the universe itself, but the weeping angels are based in this universe. If you want me to create a series of this monster school(s) I can. I have many characters based on the school enforcers and how it is heavily tied to platonic yandere. But I will have to refresh if that is the case.
Also, many dreamcore/liminal space playlists also helped with the making of this. At some point writing this that was the only thing I listened to and I was creeped out enough to go back to my silly playlists on YouTube.
Finally also, also. I never watched Dr. Who. However, when looking at the Wiki and Wikipedia when a Weeping Angel touches a person they time travel to the past and the Weeping Angel feast on the time remains? I need to recheck the wiki, but that's what I got.
Obviously, the reader didn't travel to the past, but! The reader can't leave the space/parameter of the dead zone now- So, take that as you will.
p.s. I'm posting this as I'm going to bed. I'll be back to add more emphasis and changes in text. So, don't be too shocked about minor tweaks here and there.
p!yandere roommate x gn!older sibling reader x p!yandere family
TW: parentification, low-self esteem, objectification, reader comparing themself to a pet, allusions to codependency, depression, suicide, neglect and emotional manipulation.
f.name = first name
How can the broken fix what is broken? How can one love unconditionally, when love was given conditionally? How can one smile when they never understood what there was to smile for?
You used to think you smiled for your siblings, your kids in all but name. You used to think they were your entire world and you wouldn't let anyone else take that away from you. You used to think the little moments you all shared were gold amongst coal.
However, the moment the Parents came into the picture, taking all the credit after you spent hours upon hours changing their diapers, burping them, feeding them their formulas and teaching them how to function as human beings. . . it broke something in you.
Leaving a scar that twitches whenever a claw pushes in too deep. Too far that it starts to scab and bleed all over again. A scar that is too fragile to be left alone.
When your youngest looked at you weird, when their sweet little voice, bit into the wrong vein, and asked "Why are you taking Mum's place, you're not Mum or Pa!" A crack with a deep depression sunk its place into your beating, breathing heart.
But weren't you mom to them- at some point? Weren't you dad? The person that fed, clothed, and loved them as your own?
The one that took the place as both parents because neither loved to raise kids and only had you as a-
Just what are you to them- What are you to yourself?
---
Tired. Bone deep exhaustion. Somehow you made it; another semester, another round of midterms. You entered your dorm room, mumbling an indifferent greeting to your roommate before your body made the effort to climb the ladder and clock out once your head hit the mattress.
You weren't sure how you were surviving, sometimes there were moments you wished you dropped out. Other times you wished the day would end and you got your degree already, but it was enough. It had to be enough, for you. For yourself.
Struggles meant you were alive, breathing fresh air in your lungs, and walking in shaky but steady feet. Walking to a future that had no name yet, yet it was yours to claim.
To take, to embrace after your world shattered. When lovely voices questioned your worth, when loveless words told you to get lost, or when a silent siren you ignored so long ago told you to just stop it.
A shaky breath, open eyes that were watering for no good reason. Throat tightening like a noose around a neck and a jaw that hurt when digging itself to dust and grind.
This dream of getting a diploma was put to the back burner for far too long and maybe being this far from home was the best for you.
No matter how much a part of you feels indebted to return, to give up those silly things, and continue to live for people that long since gave you scarps of love.
They played you like a fool, treated you like an old pet that always returned to its owner because the few times- the little times it remembers being loved were enough of a collar to keep them chain to loosing dogs.
A puff, you swallowed those tears, and turn your body to face the wall, covering yourself into the blankets that held you as a kid. That kept warmth when no human hand could give.
You know it's hopeless to think there was any way to fix your family. No way for the broken to fix the broken. Yet that's what hurts the most.
If only the circumstances were a bit different. If only the Parents gave more attention. If only your siblings told you to stay outright instead of using sweet little lies that unintentionally injected venom into your old and used up veins.
A fist started to form, crinkling the bedsheets and blanket that felt warm, but never warm enough. Never enough to fill up a place that left the cracks to bandage themselves with concrete and hoped it could weather a storm.
A gulp and quiet, heavy breaths. Blinking useless tears that were making it harder to breathe.
Eyes that watered again, eyes that often held a small hope that often got kicked down. It was told to give up countless times, but often refused to do so. If one were to look at them, one would ask, "How can you handle it?"
A smile would return, soft and weary, worn down after years of constant neglect, "I don't know where else to put it."
"(f.name?)" a full body flinched and a slight turn of the head. Not enough to be seen, no way for the roommate to see you breaking again after midterms broke your spirits into tiny little pieces.
You were a good student.
Leaving just enough to keep you standing, but not enough to bandage old wounds that resurfaced whenever stories of families were mentioned by friends and professors alike.
"Hmm? Y-Yeah, need anything?" A loud pause, a shuffle of fabric? Clothes? Blankets? And you noticed your roommate on your stairs, you quickly looked away, pushing tears down your throat that haven't fallen yet.
Than it was a dip, slow, careful like the person was giving the option to be pushed away. When you felt warmth on your back, arms wrapping around your shoulders and another blanket being added, you felt some of those tears finally fall.
A shaky resolve crumbling, but the soft murmurs of your roommate kept you from fully falling apart again, and again if given the chance.
"It's cold, you don't mind me sleeping here tonight, right?" Like you could. Like you wanted to be anything, but alone right now. You shook your head, as best you could given your position and closed your eyes. Stray tears falling, falling, falling to the blanket- to the fabric that has seen better days.
A hand wiped them, a head over yours, and blankets that kept the warmth within. Scars that still flinched, still twitched whenever a scab was removed.
Going to college was something you chose. For yourself. And no one else, that made this entire ordeal so different, so meaningful. Maybe you are a pet that went to whoever treated your heart like you worth something.
But could you be blamed for it? For wanting whatever was left to rot inside? You were raised to take care of others, to teach others to care and function, to love unconditionally while others loved you conditionally.
How can the broken fix the broken? How can one love when love is given conditionally? How can one smile when they never understood what there is to smile for?
You are a fool, but in the arms of your roommate, you wanna pretend you know what you're doing because you don't know. You never knew how to love when others gave it to you conditionally.
---
"Shh, shh, (f.name) we made it. We made it another year. Just a bit more and then we can see the world." For ourselves because they had no place for extras. Just you and themselves because they knew they already had you wrapped around safely in their fingers.
You loved unconditionally because you never knew anything else, but they loved selfishly, and they sank their teeth on those they cared the most and inject venom. Sweet, sweet venom till the person only had them in their mind.
You are lucky, or unlucky, but in the end they had you were they wanted. Complaint in the sense that kept you believing fragility in their words. "We get to be ourselves soon Mignonette. . ."
A/N: This will actually be a series, not as long as this chapter, but enough to maybe make 5 posts? I can't guarantee there is a lot of comfort in this one though due to the reader's perspective. And my spin on codependency.
Also, this is mainly inspired by "unethical" by faouzia, would recommend listening to this song since it encompasses reader's personality overall and if you're curious of how the story will play out.
TW: implied child abuse + neglect, it's hinted that reader already has mind break, toxic traditional roles, stalking, body swap, no longer in control, and minor kidnapping. + disassociation.
It didn't know how long it has been an observer. Your body was fit, but dainty. Your voice loud, but soft. You could punch through a wall and hurt silently in your own demons, but coward and listen when bowing to those older than you.
Sometimes it wonders how you managed to survive this long. A sentient being like yourself are bound to break, but it guesses- you have already been broken.
Your survival was rooted into two roles, one neither sire nor dam seem to agree. The sire require you to act like him; demanding, in charged, and controlled. The dam yearns you to behave like her; gentle, nurturing, and level headed.
Neither seem to understand the consequences of the situation it brings you, but it can. It can understand, has understood how unwilling you are to believe in anything else. You were both a dam and sire and neither seem to be winning.
But mortal minds are not meant for inconsistency that much it has learnt over its decades.
---
It happened before you could grasp what collar to wear, what mask to put yourself under when everything turned black. Another you, eerily similar, but something about it unnerved you.
You wanted to yell like your sire, shrivel like your dam, but the part of you that's still in tact- no matter how small and how little that part of you talks anymore, wanted to cry, yell, screech. Something.
Anything.
Instinctively, the human part walked backwards from wherever this is, and the more steps it repeated the more faster your pace went till you were running, but the other 'you' kept walking.
And walking. And walking.
The little tears you allowed yourself, fell, the part of you that was getting quieter and quieter told you to 'keep running. Don't stop. Don't stop!' Than you fell, looking up it was the 'you', their smile was warm- soft, and they crouched as you scooted away.
However, something was wrong with the face. It was pulled a little too wide, too much teeth, and those eyes, eyes you see every day dull, were bright. Too much so.
They didn't follow you, but they kept staring, digging up your soul and looking at the shattered masks around you like your worth something. Something that shouldn't be reality. When they finally stood back up, they were right in front of you again, raising your chin.
Gently holding it, but the silent warning was there yet what really stood out was- was the freezing.
Cold.
Their touch was cold and those eyes were too warm to be considered nice. "Don't worry Little One, it'll all be over soon." They patted your head, what once was a gesture you were so fond of felt like another collar wrapping around your throat.
Instead of being something you hoped to get away from, felt like a cage concealing every part of you. Only letting its gaze be your only observer inside your gilded cage. Your breathing became fast paced, too much to the point black spots came and went yet before your body could no longer sustain you, the being spoke.
It spoke to you.
Your voice, your tone, your slight vocal mannerisms, "Just let me care for you." The begin stood, for a second those limbs were too long, big, small, unnatural before your vision blacked out.
---
Only a small chittering noise was left when the news of a missing person came on the local newspaper and television. A picture of you was there with parents teary eye and heartbroken.
You were gone for too long. Two week. Three weeks and nothing.
Unknowingly, you fix the creases in your clothes, made sure your outfit matched. You were faint, tired, but the being in here was restless, and the door knocked with the glittery eyes of your parents.
You smiled. Perfected after years of playing the sire and dam, ready to (not) do this all over again. A soft chitter and another mask was put up as the urge to cry was pushed deep inside you, chipping away as the body focused on survival.
Your survival.
Something the being has observed for years and for as long as you been breathing in its world.
You mourn whatever it cannot feel nor understand, but soon- it'll be over, for you "little one."
A/N: if I'm being a hundred percent honest, "little game" by Benny actually inspired this tiny one shot. the thought process was p!yandere parasite/doppelganger with gn!traditional reader.
However, instead of choosing a fem or male reader I went with "what if the parents raised the reader to be either or?" which led to a rabbit hole of how this reader would act, but eh.
