Cosimo Galluzzi
Mike Driver
JBB: An Artblog!
Misplaced Lens Cap
if i look back, i am lost
Kiana Khansmith
$LAYYYTER
Today's Document
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Not today Justin
titsay
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
No title available
macklin celebrini has autism
@theartofmadeline
ojovivo
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
No title available
Andulka
occasionally subtle
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from South Africa
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from Venezuela
@yandere-ghostbox
Ahhhh its so, so good to read your writing again!! I missed my boy Josh so much but I missed you even more! Hope you're doing well!!! 💕
Aha! Thank you! It feels good to write again 💕
I don't know how active I'll be but I'm certainly going to try working through my inbox finally and getting to all the requests when I have time
Problems
"I'm trying to help! You had a problem, and I fixed it!"
Josh is flustered - no, more than that, he's seething. He knows he should be glad that this is what he's exploding about, that this is what you caught him in and were mad about instead of a body or one of your missing classmates. He should be in the seventh heaven to see you mad at all - and don't think he's not committing that look in your eyes to memory regardless - but he can't even focus on the how breathless he feels at seeing your cheeks so dark, or how seen he feels under your fiery gaze, because you're doubting him and his hands fucking hurt from gripping the wheel so tightly. You aren't mad at him over something small, something he doesn't have to worry about, something petty. You caught him. You caught him and he feels suffocated and warm and the heat blasting as he idles isn't helping and you caught him. And if you doubt one thing, if you start to lose the trust he'd been building since fate brought you back together, how soon until you start snooping more and doubting more and fighting more and-
"What, then? Fuck, (Y/N), I'm the bad guy for caring? For seeing how miserable you were and- and doing something about it?" The two of you were far too public - sitting in the front seat of his car - for him to be yelling. The less attention brought to him - brought to his attitude and anger issues - the better, and with students leaving class and walking past, he needs to try and reel himself back into some kind of composure, and you back into trusting him. "Right, fine, I'll just stop then! Why should I try? I'll leave you alone forever, drop you off at home and never fucking speak to you again if that's what you want because I had the audacity to step up for you, to give a damn and care about you! Fine-"
"Josh, that's not-"
"No, (Y/N), your wish is my fucking command." He shifts the car into reverse, eyes on the rear view mirror even though he desperately wants to watch your own desperation, see if it's working. As if he could ever actually leave you alone.
You reach over the center console and grasp his arm, noticing maybe for the first time how warm he feels, how tense, muscles clenched and firm while his hand is nearly crushing the shift. He pauses, and you lean close to get his attention - to plead with him - and he tries not to smile, hopes you can't hear how fast, how hard his heart is beating.
"Josh I don't hate you. If you would calm down for two seconds-" his green eyes flick to your (e/c) ones, and he does not look happy, "and let me talk-"
"And let you yell at me more?"
You smack his arm, and he can see the gloss that takes over your eyes promising tears.
"Would you listen to me?!"
Josh puts the car in park.
He turns in his seat to face you properly, and as the anger fades, he just looks... hurt. He feels anything but. His fingers twitch against his thigh, and he swallows hard, drowning in your attention and on a high from the feeling of you begging him to notice you almost too much for him.
"I just- yes, I was miserable, and yes, I appreciate you caring, but, Josh-" you pull away, leaning back in your seat and drawing into yourself, but he doesn't let you go completely, his hand grasping yours on instinct and it feels natural. They fit together so well, as if you were made for him and he knows that you were, and a part of you calms down at the strength of his hold and the warmth of his hand and the sureness of his fingers. Another part of you knows that you wouldn't be able to break from his grasp - however gentle - if you tried. But your voice is calmer, your breathing more even, and his patient eyes drain away your anger and replace it with weariness.
"What you did, that was not your decision to make, nor your place. Maybe I would have dropped the class on my own," his eyebrows lift, doubtful, "or maybe you could have talked to me about it next time. I can... handle a creepy professor, and if I couldn't I probably would have come to you anyway for help, but you didn't let me make that decision and you went behind my back. Can you understand why I'm upset?"
Whether he could or not, he sighs in defeat, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckle. "Yeah... I guess I wasn't thinking."
With the tension cleared, though, he's rewarded with a smile, and he feels dizzy at the sight. At the way you've been emoting so much and so wildly in the span of only a handful of minutes.
"That's nothing new."
Josh grins, his cheeks still red, but no longer from anger. Now he truly was flustered.
You still trusted him, you think about him, you would go to him for help, you didn't question how he knew your school login, didn't question the how at all. And best of all, you underestimate him.
Giving your hand a final squeeze - one that both makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach churn with some uncomfortable feeling you can't quite place - Josh lets go and replaces his hands on the wheel. "Come on, lets get you home." He turns his head around to look out the back of the car, arm back and fingers holding on to the shoulder of your seat. He glances at you, eyes bright and hungry. "If you smile at me one more time, I don't know what I'm gonna do." He shakes his head, feeling rewarded and more sure than ever that fate wants you to be his, and pulls out of the parking lot.
His last comment is enough to keep you quiet for the rest of the drive.
hey, I didn't know if it was okay to ask, so I apologize for waiting so long, but are you okay? you haven't posted in a while, so I just wanted to make sure you were still alive and everything. if you're just taking a break, then absolutely cool, dont feel rushed to come back or whatever, take all the time you need, but if things arent okay and you need someone or something, I'm sure any of us would be here for you, I know I am.
This is so sweet I really adore all my ghosties and darlings and thank you so much for checking in!
Yes, I'm doing alright and I'm very sorry for just kind of disappearing. I know in the past I've at least let you know about a hiatus. I've been taking a small break as I haven't had much motivation to write as opposed to the drive I had when I started where I wrote every day! I've been drawing more which takes up most of my creative energy and now that school is over I'm back at work too.
All that being said! I'm doing okay and now that I'm sort of in a rhythm I'm hoping to start working through that ask box again soon and maybe even introducing a new OC for you guys 💞💞💞
Thank you again for asking, you're very sweet and it made me smile to see this! You're all so wonderful and I hope to be posting again soon 💜
i absolutely adore josh 💖 so i gotta ask, what would happen if, by some awful, terrible stroke of bad luck, his darling found and read some of his journal? i can only assume, depending on what part and how much they read, he'd go ballistic.
ohohoho anon, nothing good would happen for the darling in this situation. It would definitely be a catalyst for the worst.
TW: minor violence
---
What is happening? What... what am I looking at right now? This can’t be... real...
An oppressive rage overtakes the room, and even in the warm light of the afternoon that filters through the window, you feel cold. It seems darker, though nothing tangible has changed. When you make yourself turn around, the damning object in hand, you see him.
Josh stands in the doorway of his room, hands holding the frame in a white-knuckled grip. His jaw is clenched taut. His eyes are shadowed by anger, dark and mossy and alive. Every part of him is coiled and ready to strike. A predator in his prime. Fear overtakes you with the dawning realization that you, in this situation, are the prey.
Pages flutter as the journal slips from your trembling hands, thudding open on the floor, loose paper scattering. Your class schedule. Your notes. Your letters. Your information and your trash. At a glance, anyone could see your name on nearly every line in neat handwriting, punctuated by aggressive and jagged scrawls detailing the owner’s actions and inner psyche.
With restrained and just barely controlled calm, Josh steps into the room, closing the door behind him.
The silence is suffocating.
My journal... my JOURNAL... how much did you see? This was never supposed to happen, y-you were never supposed to know, I didn’t PLAN for this... (y/n) why?
“Why?!”
Wincing and whimpering, your heart and mind are at war, torn between dread and compassion. His voice sounds so raw as if the word had been ripped from his soul. You care for him, you care for him so much... but that journal... and the way he’s looking at you right now...
Crossing the room, he cups your face in his hands, rough palms pressing against your jaw, boring into you. His eyes swim with confusion and nerves and rage. His hold feels tender and final.
“Why,” he draws you closer and your noses are touching, foreheads pressed together, “did you look at my journal, (y/n)?”
“I-I didn’t- I-”
“How much did you read?”
“Josh I-”
“WHAT DID YOU SEE?!”
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes and you can feel his fingers digging into the base of your skull. You can’t tear your gaze away from his even as his grip grows uncomfortable.
Meanwhile, he’s reeling. Josh cycles through the need to knock you out right now so that he can focus, the need to shake out your reasoning and understand, and the need to kiss you, only having fantasized about seeing you in shambles like this and starting to accept that this is reality.
So he gives your head a sharp pull, swallowing your gasp with his lips. His hands drop from your face, one grasping your wrists and the other crushing your torso against his own, firmly planted against the small of your back. Out of instinct - out of desire - you kiss him back, but then the journal and the fear and the pressure on your wrists kick in and you pull away. He lets you, but you don't go far. He’s kissing at the tracks of tears on your cheek while increasing the pressure of his hold and you want to hold him and push him away and tell him you might love him and file a restraining order.
“J-Josh what... what did I read? What is going on I-” you shudder, “I’m so confused, I-”
“I’m confused too, (y/n)… why were you looking through my things?” It’s a growl against your skin.
You struggle to find the words, to explain, to think straight. You saw your schedule peaking out, you were just curious, you didn’t know - you almost wish that you never knew. Josh steps away from you, and you feel like you can breathe. His back is turned to you. You watch him meander towards his bed, he looks lost, you muse. In momentary relief, you sag against his desk, face in your hands.
You don't get to explain. Picking up your head to finally respond, your open mouth snaps shut as you meet the ground.
Josh looks at your body sprawled out on the floor, his bat hanging limp beside him. You can see him - barely - as he crouches next to you. Bleary, you watch him reach out to you, brushing your hair from your face. You barely register the touch.
“I really didn't want to do this, but you gave me no choice. Fate decided. You can explain everything when you wake up.”
Hola I was wondering if you would do yandere Asomodeus! Also I love your works they're absolutely amazing 💖💖
Flattery always kills me, thank you anon,,,
I wasn’t quite sure how to go about this one, but I hope it’s close to what you were looking for!
TW: implied drugging, implied noncon, sexual situations
---
Little doll, he fixes pins in your (h/c) hair, deft fingers assuring each strand is artfully in place, how perfect you look. I want you oh so bad, but before I ruin all this hard work, I need you to appreciate it first.
Asmodeus moves in front of you, briefly checking his complexion in your glassy, unfocused eyes, and adjusts the lace of your dress. Noting your slumped posture, he positions you in a coquettish pose in his plush chair, all too pleased with the result. Now standing behind you, he glows with pride and takes a few selfies with your unconscious form. Squishing your face, kissing your hand, his head on your shoulder. His favorite is the one he takes with his tongue down your throat, having gotten somewhat carried away, but who can blame him? You look so good. While he’s fixing your lipstick, you finally begin to stir.
You’re legs are sore and there’s a dull pounding in the back of your head and your mouth tastes like... like Asmo...
Slowly, frustratingly slowly, your eyes adjust and meet his. Your mind screams at you to move, to run, to spit in his face and ruin the makeup you feel clinging to your eyelids. All you can do is mumble out unintelligible questions and curses.
“Oh (y/n), you’re finally up~ I was getting so antsy, so your timing is impeccable, my love.” You can't detect any trace of malice and it’s terrifying.
He truly thinks that there is nothing wrong with this situation?
Feeling some sense of touch, you attempt to move your hand. Asmo springs up and dances behind you - out of range - once more as you weakly reach out to him. It takes no real force on his part to reposition your hand playfully between your legs and he looks all too comfortable to drape himself around you.
“Look! Oh you’re already so gorgeous, but I’ve made you even more beautiful. Don’t you love this dress? It’s a bit cutesy for my taste but after the sexy look we went with yesterday I couldn’t stop wondering what you would look like in frills! Ahh, you’re a little princess, (y/n)~ I wonder...” the next words are whispered next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “would you rather I be your prince or your villain? Hm?” The question is punctuated with a playful nip at your earlobe.
With the pounding of your heart also comes blood flow, and you can feel your arms, your shoulders. You bend your head away from him. The action only exposes your neck and Asmodeus wastes no time in ravishing the exposed skin. He nips and licks his way down to the collar of your dress, hands snaking down the front panel with languid passes at the bows that adorn your chest and middle.
“Ah, ah, ah, a princess shouldn't resist her prince - her betrothed - so it looks like I’ll be your big, bad, scary villain! This is going to be so much fun~”
You wiggle your toes. You try to stand, but your knees wobble and you fall back into the chair, folded against the armrest. Soft, delicate fingers run through your hair as Asmo coos and giggles at your state. In the same breath he balls his hand into a fist, yanking your head back and melding his mouth against yours. Neck straining and your scalp itching, you find yourself focusing more on the feel of his lip gloss against the waxiness of your own lips. It’s easier, you think, to block out all other sensations and only pay attention to a neutral one...
A startled gasp escapes your throat as he bites teasingly at your bottom lip and you have the sense - and the strength now - to push him away, legs carrying you weakly towards the door... a door you know is locked... you have to try-
“Ha! You’re playing your part perfectly, my princess!”
Claws dig in just below your shoulder, tearing the fabric of your sleeve, and Asmo twirls you around as if ready to waltz. One arm is secure around your waist, barring you against his lithe body, and the other maintains its hold of your arm. You in comparison are unsteady, pulled so that the tops of your feet drag against the ground behind you, and you have to clutch at his tight top - knuckles pressed against his skin - to keep yourself from falling.
Once, twice, he spins you around in a marionette’s dance, and while you try to regain your footing, he lifts you in his arms, cradling you, effectively making your struggle meaningless.
When he chuckles, his hot breath sends chills across your flesh.
“Little princess, you’ll never leave my tower.” He tuts, ducking his head to meet your eyes and whisps, “Am I scary enough?”
He giggles. Once, you would have blushed, maybe teased him back. You feel numb.
Hitting the bed, Asmo looms above you growling and giggling as he pins you down.
“Time for your handsome beast to claim you, princess. Try not to fall in love with me too fast.”
Your dress tears open, the numbness replaced with searing shame, and you cry.
Omg I love niko what would happen if niko actually got to be friends with darling? Also does he get jealous easily or nah anyway love your stuff ❤️❤️❤️
This shy boy would be a mess,,,
---
If he was friends with his darling...
You would have to be the one to start the friendship (approach him, talk to him regularly, get his number etc...)
At first he’ll come off as standoffish. Not on purpose, but because he literally cannot form two words around you to begin with and because if he looks at you too long - god forbid in your eyes - he feels as if he might faint. With his cold behavior, you might actually think that he’s kind of pompous, too self-centered, too cold. If you manage to look past that though and actually start a friendship, you’ll notice how red his face gets, or catch him staring before he looks away.
After time and lots of encouragement, he’ll start to engage more. Niko will never be used to your presence per say - you’re far too amazing for him to be used to you - but he’ll answer you, maybe ask you questions, talk about his favorite flavors of tea or how much he loves the snow. You’ll still have to initiate most of the interactions, but he’s a very willing participant. He’ll always get flustered very easily.
He’s very careful around you, always conscious of where you are and always ready to move so that you aren’t touching. An accidental brush of hands or legs will nearly kill him. He still has to work himself up to the fantasy of holding you. Maybe one day he’ll even kiss you...
Often times you’re left worried about Niko as he’ll turn red and feverish out of nowhere due to his own musings or little things that you do that you don’t even notice. Your doting only makes it worse and his whole body trembles when he has to gently take your wrist into his hand and move it from his forehead (”(Y/N) I- I- I’m not s-sick... please… ah”).
He won’t stop stalking you. It feels weird to be in pictures with you. Weird but... good.
Being his friend will definitely accelerate his assuredness of himself, and where others (like Josh) may be subdued by being close to their darling, being friends with you only moves the day that he finally takes you closer and closer.
Now that you have this bond, that he knows you already like him, why would he need to wait longer?
He gives you lots of gifts.
He’s very handy and helps you whenever you need him whether it be in crafts or fixing things around your home.
He’ll invite you over a lot. He loves seeing you in his space, letting you get familiar with your future home.
No matter how long you’re friends for, he’ll be the kindest man you know but will always be very stiff around you. The rare moments he relaxes, loses himself laughing or gets sleepy on the couch, he finds himself accidentally getting close to you. He’ll put a hand on your shoulder or ruffle your hair or let himself melt into you, but without fail he’ll apologize profusely after, even if you reassure him that there’s nothing to apologize for.
Is he jealous? Not in the traditional yandere sense. Niko doesn't mind if you’re with other people. It gives him more chance to remain unseen and he likes when you’re happy. Your happiness and comfort is his utmost priority. He’s not a killer either. The most violence he’ll ever employ is the force he’ll need to use for your kidnapping and he regrest even that much. He is very bitter, however, about anyone that would try to pursue you. Niko is bad at hiding his disdain too, badmouthing and complaining his competition over lunch or at a park or whenever they might come up. Not a particularly scary man, however, and with the soft way he speaks, his criticisms come off as cute more than threatening or unsettling. You may even find him more endearing for it.
And how couldn you not find it cute, it’s Niko. He’s not a threat to anyone.
Hello Ghosties and darlings! Sorry for the couple day hiatus school came up and I had a couple big projects to do :( I'll be working through the inbox today so if you submitted any requests be on the lookout!
Hope everyone's staying safe 💜💜💜
Bro Niko could tell me he knitted me a scarf right after murdering my family and I'd still marry him how is he so cute this is illegal-
Hello ur under arrest for being too talented ):
I'm not going back to jail
summon yandere Belphie p l e a s e
He is s u m m o n e d
TW: violence, blood
---
He should feel bad about playing his brothers like this. He should... but he doesn’t.
“You guys had such a head start, can't I just hang out with (y/n) for a little while?”
Sheets rustle and a pillow drops to the floor, but the thud is drowned out by Mammon’s voice on the other side of the door.
“I don’t care! You can’t expect me to just let you have them all alone in your room!”
“Mammon’s right, if (y/n) is going to be in anyone’s room it should be mine, we were going to have a movie marathon tonight...” Levi.
“That’s no better! (Y/N) should be with me if any-”
“Shouldn’t (y/n) be... in their room?” Beel… Beel! You try to shout out, but Belphie closes the door as he steps outside. No… “Anyway, I think it’s fine if Belphie wants some alone time, I think it’s good! They can bond and...”
Their voices are fading.
Belphegor watches his brothers walk away with a tired expression. Beel has an arm around the other two, Mammon visibly struggling to turn back, but soon the three are out of sight and Belphegor relaxes into a smile. His eyes slide to the door behind him.
Your eyes are wide and swimming with unnamed and uncountable emotions. As soon as the door creaks open, your gazes meet and the momentary silence - the tension between those two looks - stretches uncomfortably long.
Almost as uncomfortably as the rope biting into your wrists.
With languid movements he makes his way back to you, crawling into the bed and collapsing sleepily into your bound form. He’s told you that your the best pillow, his favorite blanket, the perfect napping partner. You’d bite him right now if you could.
He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, kissing your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your middle, “how much longer do you think Beel will keep sticking up for me?”
You want to gag.
It’s all too easy to when you are quite literally gagged.
A sigh tickles your skin and you squirm against him, trying to create some distance. It only makes him laugh.
My little lamb... my little calf... my sweet little livestock primed for the slaughter... when will you realize that time is different for us demons? When will you realize how pointless it is to struggle so? You’ll just tire yourself out, but that won’t be so bad would it? He could use a good rest right about now-
Oh- oh that almost hurt.
His eyes snap open, looking at where your knee had just connected with his stomach. Good thing you’re so powerless, but the impact still woke him up.
So he repays the favor.
Blood stains the sheets beneath you, dripping from your nose and seeping from a new shallow cut on your cheek and where the rope pulls at your skin, scratching the wounds. Your body is bruised and red and sore. Somewhere along the taming your gag slipped and shallow pants force their way out of your mouth. Each gasp feels like its being ripped from your very core.
Belphie brushes your hair aside, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead, and pulls you on top of his warm body, arms wrapped securely around your worn figure. He doesn't seem to mind the blood and tears that fall onto his skin and jacket, and before long the even rise and fall of his chest give away his slumbering state.
You feel exhausted. All you can bring yourself to do at the moment... is sleep.
Smile
Oh no, he thinks, don't smile... if you do, his hand clutches at his chest, creasing his shirt, I’ll die, (y/n)...
The lens shutters along with his breathing. Your face lights up with joy, with laughter, and even as he collects these moments on his camera his legs shake, heart hammering against his ribs, reverberating through his entire body as it begs to break free.
You’re so beautiful...
Niko puts his camera away after a few moments, a broken sigh emitting from his lips as he deflates. Ah... (y/n)... Head buried in his hands, he can feel just how feverish his face must look judging by the temperature. His hands drop to the table, cold blue eyes fixated on the tea in front of him.
What am I going to do...
The past month has proven to be a challenge. It has become harder and harder to stay away from you, and he doesn't think that his body can handle the love that he feels for you. With no outlet for all his emotions, it feels as if he’s suffocating, like his chest is being constricted and crushed until one day it’ll break. Every private moment he steals, every laugh he hears, every breath you take is another stone upon his tortured body. He’ll die if this keeps up, he’s sure of it.
He might just be okay with that...
The thought is rather poetic, Niko muses. Vanquished by a flood of love, drowning in you until my last breath...
Then again, he’s never been a master wordsmith, so perhaps it’s more sad than romantic.
Touch me...
Look at me...
Trust me...
The sound of rain against the window breaks him out of his thoughts. You’re no longer outside. Good... he’d be so worried if you had been caught up in the coming storm. He sips his lukewarm tea - chamomile with some honey today - and an idea strikes.
Niko rushes home, hair damp and a few shades darker from the downpour, rain mixing with his sweat. He navigates the piles of homework and equipment and pillows with familiar ease and takes only moments to find what he’s looking for. Rolling up his sleeves, he reaches for the unfinished scarf and releases a disbelieving laugh, breathy and building. How hadn’t he realized...
It’s the color of your eyes. You’ve bled into his knitting, and he didn't even notice. The (e/c) yarn is soft and the gradient is smooth. Niko makes himself comfortable and gets to work, pouring all the love and adoration and obsession dedication he feels into the needlework. The soft tap of rain accompanies the steady clink of his work, and as he nears the finishing touches, he finally feels some of the pressure he felt seeping out of his body. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to make him feel light and comfortable. Looking at the scarf, he smiles. Thinking about what comes next, his heart flutters.
You don't think much about the scarf you find on your bed that evening. You figure it’s a gift, obviously, and shout a quick “thank you” out behind you to your roommate or your parents or... whoever.
He sees you wearing it the next day to fight the light morning chill and absolutely melts. Before he can position himself - even get his camera out - he falls. Quite actually falls, knees buckling beneath him when you pull his gift - a part of him - close to your mouth.
You’re smiling, and he feels like he can smile with you.
Catch me out here falling in love with yet another drawing... Why's Niko so cute? How's anybody allowed to be that cute? Listen,,, he can kidnap me any day of the week,,,
I feel that struggle also definitely a big quarantine mood u-u
He'd be so happy to hear that, anon, you don't understand. If his darling wanted to be kidnapped and he'd have the privilege of not only fulfilling his life goal but your fantasy??? That boy would melt, wouldn't leave you alone, would bend over backwards to make you happy. He'd cuddle into you for a whole DAY from sheer peace and joy anon
Not a request or anything, I just saw your drawings of Josh and Niko and wow 💕💕💕 I love them, you're an incredible writer and artist!!
Anon I'll cry this is so sweet,,,,, you guys keep me so motivated to write!!!
Niko
Name: Niko Ensio
Age: 21
Birthday: February 19 (Pisces)
Height: 5′11
Hobbies: Photography, ice skating, and sewing, a Chem major, likes to collect tea, mend broken things, watch you, fantasize about you, enjoys being bundled up and wondering what it would be like to be close to you, and is very shy.
---
You came into Niko’s life all too recently. It’s been about a year since he first met you, since he had fallen deep in love with you. It was a small gesture, you probably forgot all about it, but he clung to it like a lifeline. All you really did was smile at him, maybe you were apologizing for an inconvenience - you bumped into him, you thought his café order was yours, you accidentally cut him off on the sidewalk - or maybe you had merely showed him some random kindness - holding the door for him, holding an elevator, holding his heart - and that was it. To him it was everything. It’s not that Niko had never been shown kindness in his life, but he’s used to not being seen. His meek nature and quiet behavior makes it all too easy for people to forget that he is there, something that he used to curse but now treasures. The little act of courtesy that ignited his love is just an excuse for his feelings, however. He’s drawn to you like an addict. The first time the two of you made eye contact, he couldn’t breathe and now he follows you, grasping at moments to preserve your essence.
You see him around town every now and again, only vaguely recognizing his face when he’s around, so you give him a polite smile or wave and continue on your day. Those interactions leave him trembling and flustered and nearly drooling. He can't even imagine what it’ll be like to finally touch you.
---
Niko is your #1 fan. You are his life, and anything else is put on the backburner.
He follows you everywhere, snapping any number of pictures when he does. Some are blurry and messy with you barely in the frame. Others are chillingly perfect. You never see him. He doesn't want it any other way... for now. He’s been working up the courage to even talk to you - a simple “hi”- since the two of you met. It’s not time yet for anything more... he doesn't know that his heart could handle it. There’s never a moment he isn't thinking about you.
He keeps his photos hidden neatly away, though he doubts anyone would be able to find them regardless in his cozy, very much lived in home. You’re his, the thought makes his breathing ragged, and no one else is allowed to share in the intimate moments that he’s captured. Just recently he’s worked up the courage to capture more revealing moments of yours. On the nights that he does, he can't sleep, nearly having a fit at the memory and spiraling into lust and lovelorn hysterics all over again.
With Niko, it’s not a question of if he’ll kidnap you, rather a question of when. His courage grows every day, and no matter how slowly it does grow, there will come a day when he simply cannot go another moment without having you near him. He thought the photos could sustain him, but realizes eventually that he needs to watch you move, hear your voice, touch you.
Niko is not a violent man, though, so there’s really no reason to be worried. He’ll take the utmost care of you. He’s somewhat sensitive, but there isn't a thing you could do that would truly deeply upset him. There won't be blood on his hands, but if you try to leave, there just might be chemicals involved to keep you placated.
---
Niko does not have a “weapon of choice”, he’s far too subdued for that. If he really has to do anything harsh, he’ll rely on drugs to make sure all parties are unscathed, but most importantly, that you’re still his.
---
He loves you so much, he think he might just die if can't have you.
Picrew used
Wow your writing is really thrilling and exciting!
This is so great to hear, anon ;o; I'm always worried that my one shots will be too short or vague and here y'all are... Validating me. Thank you 💞💞💞
*screams* omg that was perfect holy hecksies how are you so good at this, just... *wipes tear* beautiful... I can never really get enough of yandere!Lucifer, thank you for keeping us all fed
Eat up anon
(in all seriousness thank you!!!)
I'm living for all this Lucifer content!!! It's very interesting to watch him justify everything MC does to fit his world view, but I suppose it must be easier for him since the beginning of the relationship was consensual. Could you write Lucifer's reaction to MC starting in a relationship with one of his brothers? Or just him finding them making out or something? I imagine he wouldn't be able to accept it if they chose someone else over him (especially if it were Mammon) or trust them again...
Anon I’m sorry it took so long to get to this, I had to think about it a lot but reading it again makes me female anime villain laugh. Hope this is what you were looking for >:3
---
How...
Dare...
“MAMMON!”
At the shout, Mammon nearly jumps out of his skin. He falls away from you, tripping over himself. Even as you step in front of him and calmly meet the Pride Demon’s eyes, the flush on Mammon’s face and his overall... disarray is apparent enough.
Lucifer is... confused. He’s so confused and angry. You said you needed time, you said that you needed to take things slow, so what in the seven hells is this? You promised that you would be back, he let you retain some agency because he trusted that you would stay true to your word...
So what...
It feels like his mind is going to split in two. No matter how hard he thinks about it, he cannot for the life of him come up with a- a... a justification, a reason, any kind of logic behind your decision to...
Kiss Mammon.
Of all people...
Maybe Mammon forced himself on you. A demon would have to be blind to ignore the way his brother pines for you - has always pined for you - but you didn't choose Mammon, you chose him. The way that you meet his eyes, that same determination the day you left, kills that train of thought, however. Lucifer’s mind struggles against it all, still fighting to prove your innocence, but it’s so hard when Mammon is hiding behind you with his arms wrapped possessively around your shoulders.
Mammon trembles behind you as Lucifer bares his wings and horns.
“N-now Lucifer listen you don’t gotta get so mad we were just-”
“Mammon, shut up.” His piercing red eyes never leave yours. “(Y/N), care to explain yourself?”
You know him well enough to notice the small strain in his voice when he says ‘explain’. It’s almost enough to make you feel bad, but you’ve decided that you need to have some control when you weren’t given a choice to remain here in the first place.
“There’s nothing to explain. We can talk later if you really need to, but right now I'm busy.”
He has to stop himself from staggering backwards.
His instinct is to take you and return to how things were. You were obviously rebounding or coping strangely, or getting... something - he doesn’t know what, but something - out of your system. If he just took you back to his room and maybe chained you to the bed for good measure - to help guide you back to who you are - eventually you would have to remember how much you love him.
His pride, however, prevents him from doing so, knowing that Mammon would interfere and not wanting his brothers (who care for you so much) misunderstand his intentions.
So, with a thick dark aura nearly blocking out his face, he turns and walks away, coat flaring out behind him.
No one is allowed in his study for the next three days. He can’t let anyone see the mental break that he’s experiencing right now. He can't let his brothers see him so... Weak.
On the fourth day he’s come to a conclusion. So he plans.
On the fifth day, he saves you from yourself, from your own beautiful innocence. If he can’t find the root of your corruption, he’ll just have to remove you from influence himself and truly it’s rather noble of you to not want to burden others with your suffering. It's not your fault that Mammon... He can't finish the thought but it's NOT. He doesn’t mind. He'll take care of you. You always take care of everyone else.
"L-Lucifer?"
"(Y/N), I think it's about time we had that talk."
It’s almost amusing how similar that morning is to the morning of the end of term ceremony.
Just a dream...
The soft thump of his sneakers as he places them on the floor barely registers in his own ears in the blanketing silence of night. His socks make even less noise as he pads across the room to... you.
Your breathing is steady, even, and deep. Asleep. Some of the tension in his shoulders melts away as he finally, quietly, reaches the edge of your bed. The front of his legs press against the side of the mattress as he looms over you. He wastes no time lowering himself on top of your covers. His hand splays out just next to your shoulder, toned arm supporting his weight, eyes fixed on your face as he slowly brings his legs up. Muscles strain as he keeps his movements measured and balanced and gently, gently, his head falls to the pillow next to you and he lets himself relax.
It’s the only time he can observe this expression on your face. When you’re asleep, that is. Your unchanging features undoubtedly nag at his irritation, but it’s dampened by the fact that this opportunity is so rare, and when you stir, or react outwardly to a dream you’ve had, or even just adjust - too warm, too cold - the way his pulse quickens makes it worth it. No matter how many times he recounts these break-ins in his journal, rereading them never lives up to re-experiencing them.
Josh reaches out, the rough pad of his thumb barely brushing your soft lips. You don’t stir at the brief contact. Deeming it safe, he rests his hand fully on your cheek and lets out a content sigh. Someday he won't have to fear you waking up. Someday he won’t have to rely on your circumstantial friendship to keep you close. Someday he won't have to fear you forgetting him, turning away from him, ignoring him. Someday... someday you’ll be all his and he’ll be certain that he’s the only one you see. For now... his mossy green eyes dance over your features. Feeling bold, his hand moves from your cheek to your (h/l), (h/c) hair, running his fingers through the strands.
“You don’t know what you do to me...”
When his gaze returns to your face, his whole body freezes, heart dropping to his stomach as he meets your drowsy (e/c) eyes.
You’re awake.
Barely.
Mind racing and limbs stiff, his hand shoots to the space in front of his chest, ready to run, hoping you don’t recognize him in the darkness. He’s too caught up in planning that Josh doesn't even notice what you're doing until...
Until you’re curled up next to him, head resting in the crook of his arm and shoulder. He shudders as he feels your nose press against his neck and your soft cheek nestles against his chin.
Maybe you aren’t all that conscious.
Acting before the though could even fully justify what he does next, his arms wrap around you, a leg draping over yours possessively as he breathes you in. He’s suffocating in you and all too ready to drown.
“Oh (y/n), how do you always do this to me...”
He doesn't feel an ounce of shame at taking advantage of your groggy state when he feels you vibrate against him, your quiet, breathy, sleep-induced giggle tickling his skin. He stifles a groan into your hair.
This has never happened before. He’s itching to write it all down and figure out what it means, figure out why you're doing this, figure out your subconscious reaction to... to what? Thinking he’s in bed with you? Do you even know it’s him?
You mumble something, but he doesn't catch any more than the simple fact that you’ve spoken at all. This is... getting dangerous. If you’re talking, then you're becoming more conscious, and everything would be ruined if you really did wake up. He’s been reckless enough as is. It’s time to go.
Josh gently pulls away from you, disentangling himself even as you weakly cling to his warmth. Resting his forehead against yours as - what he reasons - the safest goodbye in this situation, he closes his eyes for a moment. They fly right back open when he feels the heat of your lips against his. How do you always surprise him how do you always keep him on his toes? Not thinking, he returns the kiss with hunger, wrapping his fist in your hair.
And just as quickly, he’s gone.
---
You’ve been avoiding him all day. His heart threatens to beat out of his chest and his hands can’t seem to keep still on the desk. Did he make a mistake? Do you remember? Do you know it’s him?
The not knowing is eating him alive.
For what feels like the hundredth time that class period he tries to catch your eye, coiled with rage, ready to confront you, when you finally look at him. And then... you look away just as quick. Josh doesn’t miss the damning blush that colors your cheeks though, and a wave of... something floods through him. He can't place what it is that he’s feeling, but it’s far from anger and much closer to relief.
Deciding to act - because that’s what he does - he walks with you after class, fear creeping into his veins as he lightly teases you, waiting for your reaction... and you’re once again flustered.
“What’s the matter, (y/n)? You haven’t fallen for me have you?”
“N-no! I just... no I just had an... interesting dream last night is all.”
He can't stop the genuine smile that fixes itself on his face.