Checking In On Vei Sama How Are U 😛😛 And How Is Baby Girl Idris

h what r u not comfortable with writing

as long as it doesn't involve poop kinks

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 ( y! emperor x m! assassin reader )

yandere! emperor x male! assassin reader

warnings:

attempted murder

attempted poisoning

mentions of torture

some dubcon tumble & kissing in the sheets ey

directory: part one, part two [ coming soon ]

this definitely could've gone to a much, much darker route but instead it turned out kind of cute(?). i once had a similar idea to this one but as like a longer fic but i don't have the time for that so eat this instead y'all 🌈🌈

requested by @n4muqr

✾ | much is unknown of the current reigning emperor, dimitri, and what little is known about him is all rather rudimentary, really—merely the common knowledge shared and repeated by most already.

✾ | for instance, it is often said by the masses that dimitri is akin to a sleeping lion. a calm and quiet presence... until a single misstep is made in his presence, prompting his unbridled fury. the emperor does not merely desire perfection, he demands it with an almost relentless, crazed fervor. the emperor will not— cannot simply stand by when something in his vicinity does not reach that impeccable state.

✾ | another topic, oftenly brought up, is his cruelty. the amount of enemies dimitri has amassed on his path to the throne is not few, and those who remain are, well, tortured and tormented inside the cold dungeons for as long as they draw breath.

✾ | but none of those rumors are the ones that pique your interest in the emperor. no. what fascinates you about dimitri is the fact that he has yet to marry, and has remained so for several years of his reign, much to the utter bewilderment of his own people and his own court.

✾ | and the reason for it is so ridiculous that, the first time you heard it, you nearly topple over from laughter. the emperor is unmarried not because he is unattractive or ugly—the opposite really, if the rumors are to be believed—but because he deems that there is no one perfect enough yet to stand by his side. ridiculous, really. but what is an emperor if he is not arrogant?

✾ | still, the fact that there is no direct heir to the throne due to this is utterly hilarious to you. even more comical is the moment when, one day, you are given the task to assassinate said emperor.

✾ | you hold no loyalty for powerful men like dimitri, especially when they are reputed to be arrogant fools. and yet, curiosity stirs within you as to who issued such an order, for you are certain that you are not the only one sent to assassinate dimitri. his little brother perhaps? he is, after all, next in line to the throne.

✾ | a day after you receive the task, you simply... wait, and you remain waiting even as news of failed assassination attempts after another reaches your ears. not one assassin has succeeded, and it baffles you, really; it is either due to the emperor's extreme luck or, perhaps, his perfectionism has extended to other aspects of his life—namely, the protection that surrounds him.

✾ | so, you plan. disguising one's self to infiltrate the palace would take too long, and the likelihood of success is slim, especially given dimitri’s vigilant eye monitoring everyone’s movements. in the end, only one course of action comes to mind.

✾ | in the dead of night, you silently scale the towering walls of the palace—walls too high for most, surely, but easily surmountable for someone like you. with a mask covering the lower half of your face and more daggers than one should be permitted to carry, you ascend with ease.

✾ | landing on the balcony with barely a sound, you smile as you successfully arrive at the chambers of the arrogant emperor dimitri.

✾ | lock picking the door inside is awfully easy, and as you step into the bedroom that is almost suffocating with its golden splendor, you finally see him. you see the emperor.

✾ | dimitri is in bed, unguarded, with eyes closed and lips parted, so breathtaking to behold that, for a moment, you forget you are here to kill him, to murder him.

✾ | as you edge closer to his still body, you observe the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each soft breath. how his golden eyelashes flutter as the cold night air sweeps in from the open balcony window. it seems almost a waste to kill such beauty.

✾ | and just as you brandish your cold dagger to his neck, your other hand ready to silence his dying cries, dimitri's eyes shoot wide open, an icy gaze staring directly into you.

✾ | despite only just waking, the emperor is fast, sharp and alert, and in a blink, dimitri has already swiftly caught both your wrists with his hands in a vice-like grip, rendering you motionless as you both stare into each other’s eyes in tense silence.

"You shouldn’t be up at such an hour, Your Majesty,” you slowly quip with narrowed eyes, breaking the silence between you as you struggle to free your hands from Dimitri’s grip. Your efforts are futile; his hold on you tightens further.

No doubt, that bruises will soon bloom like dark flowers on your skin, assuming, that is, Dimitri ever lets go of his grip.

With an almost empty sharpness in his gaze, Dimitri inches his face closer to yours, his expression thin as he responds, “And you, should not wander as you wish in your emperor’s chambers. Wherever did you learn your manners, stranger?”

"Well, certainly not around here, Your Majesty.” You let out a sharp laugh before kneeing him in the stomach. But, to your surprise, you flinch instead of the emperor. It feels as though... you just kneed a solid rock.

At your failed attempt, Dimitri merely raises a brow and sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. “I must admit, this is a first. No assassin thus far has attempted to climb my palace walls only to knee me in the stomach. I must say, you do make a memorable first impression.”

"I'm flattered, Your Majesty," you say with a faux smile as you continue to struggle against his grip. Another sigh escapes the Emperor's lips.

Suddenly, perhaps finally finding himself tired of your antics, Dimitri pulls you towards him with a firm grip, effortlessly throwing you onto his bed, pinning you under him with only a hand as though you weigh nothing.

Well now, this is bad.

Dimitri hovers above you, his warm breath caressing your neck, his gaze piercing you with a cold, steely silence. Then— he rips off your mask, revealing your complete face, twisted with frustration; Dimitri's eyes seem to gleam as he notices it.

"Must you really rip it off?"

"It obscured my view of your face, oh assassin. Your mask was a hindrance to us both," he answers, voice as smooth as velvet. With his free hand, and an empty gaze that all but screams danger, Dimitri’s fingertips softly caress your face before slowly, but surely, descending to your neck. You gulp.

Before he can act in a way you do not desire—specifically, choking you lifeless beneath him—you lean forward, rising to press your lips against his in desperation.

Not for his mercy, no—heavens, no. Your lips are coated in poison, a venom strong enough to probably lull a lion into instant slumber, and soon, will render Dimitri paralyzed as well.

Unsurprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly—because you’ve seen it, seen the hint of desire brimming inside his eyes, a flicker that escapes the mask the Emperor puts on—Dimitri kisses you back. And if your swift brush of lips could ever be labeled as a kiss, then what Dimitri unleashed upon you could only be deemed a ravage.

He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, savoring and exploring your mouth as one might indulge in a delectable, forbidden fruit. Despite your efforts, you find yourself drawn into his passion, grappling beneath him as he intensifies the kiss with each passing moment, as though melding your bodies together.

There is no room to breathe, and your head reels from the lack of air.

A bruising grip is placed on your waist as Dimitri somehow deepens the kiss further, his tongue exploring every inch of you, and as you attempt to pull away, he presses forward, biting your lip almost as a form of punishment.

A low whine escapes your throat, seemingly satisfying Dimitri as he hums softly into your mouth. Then, finally, ever so finally, he ends the kiss, leaving you gasping for air.

Tears well in your eyes as you gaze up at him, a half-smirk playing on his lips while he hovers above you, still gripping both your wrists firmly in his single hand, still unaffected by the poison after how much time has passed. How... is this be possible? Is Dimitri perhaps immune to such poison?

As realization washes over you, the half-smirk on Dimitri’s face transforms into a full one. "The poison on your lips is sweet, oh assassin," he whispers, "but in my opinion, the kiss is far, far sweeter."

"You...!"

As you prepare to kick the Emperor in his groin out of extreme frustration, he releases his grip on you, rising from the bed before straightening his attire. "You have passed, my assassin. And henceforth, you will serve me, and me alone," he announces, voice ringing clear inside your head.

You blink, letting his words sink in before narrowing your eyes at Dimitri, who is now sitting languidly on one of his many comfortable chairs in the room. “Just what are you talking about?” His words make little sense, and you feel an undying urge to hurl the nearest object right at his face.

"Who do you think orchestrated the countless assassinations on my dear self, oh assassin of mine? I seek only the finest, and while I knew no one could truly ever succeed in killing me, thus far, your attempt has been the closest."

You push yourself off the bed, striding towards him with your fists clenched. "This is all beyond ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many of us were tasked to end your life?"

"I do."

You cross your arms with a sigh. "So, what now? Is my task over?" The room is far too cold now after you have tasted the warmth that is your Emperor, and your job is clearly over, now that you have, somehow, been forcefully given a new one instead.

Dimitri responds, "You are to be my assassin. I will point the way, and you will obediently follow, with no questions asked. To kill whomever I send you to kill, to dispose of their bodies with no witnesses in sight, and to return to me when I have need of you. Is that clear?"

You roll your eyes at his arrogant tone but then nod obligingly upon seeing the slightest hint of anger in his expression. "Yes, yes. Is there anything else you require of me, Your Majesty? If not, I will be taking my leave now."

"Remain still,” he commands, and a distant part of you screams in frustration as your body effortlessly complies. He approaches you slowly, offering a small smile before placing your mask back over your face.

"When we are alone, just the two of us, I expect you to address me by my given name, my assassin.” He pauses then, lifting your chin with a finger. You tense.

"And...?" you ask back, your voice shaky.

The Emperor’s gaze flickers towards your lips, concealed beneath the mask, as he issues his last command. “That last method of yours. I forbid you from employing it on anyone else,” he muses, tightening his grip on your chin, almost painfully so.

“Your lips are reserved solely for mine.”

why do you seem too like the mentally ill ones, like luka from alnst and anton from eros story, luka and anton have some things in common

HELPPP THE WAY I CACKLED SO BADLY WHEN I SAW THIS 😭😭😭😂😂😂

there's really not that good of a reason as to why i like these weirdos lmfaooaoa i just find them fascinating characters because they fuck shit up all the time while remaining very sexy when they do it.

(i also wanna dissect their heads and find out how their brain works like nom nom nom)

Let us impregnate idris pls...

i mean the thought hasn't not crossed my mind before soooo 👁️🫦👁️ ngl he'd be down for it, but he's the insatiable type so in the end reader would be the one getting tired first 😌👍

have yyou seen my omega Jude 💔💔I need his daily vitamin c

are you quite sure its not his vitamin D 🤔🤔🤔

every one of my followers gets a little bowl of soup from the pot bubbling in the middle of my blog and a slice of bread with homemade butter on the side

I couldn't resist the temptation of pressing the magic button [screams]

don't worry, i know the feeling of not being able to resist the magic button

( 𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 ) ✦ ⎯⎯ 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐃𝐘𝐑𝐀, the moon  ˚ · .┊ 𝇄𝇃 ✧.

he's been waiting for the wedding for a long, long time. ever since the day you've scarred one another, blood marking blood — a testament to the bond that sealed your fates together.

─── The MOON represents the realm of the subconcious, symbolizing the mysteries that lie beneath the conscious thought. it can warn of hidden agendas, often signaling that appearances may be deceiving.

✦ ″ beneath the canopy of stars, his cold, unyielding hands hold you tightly in place, his long silver hair billowing in the night wind, sending cold chills down your spine. in those silver eyes of his, there is something unspoken — something undeniably cruel and flushed with madness.

✦ ″ the second prince is someone to be avoided at all costs. to catch his gaze would be a mistake, and to fall into his cunning hands would be your ruin. (because his love is an ocean, and he holds enough of it to drown you both)

[ directory . ]

01. — you are promised to me, remember that.

02. — a night like no other, just for us, don’t you agree?

do not claim, repost, or use this character without permission. character art from onmyoji

OFFERING | YANDERE IMAGINES

prompt: you are sacrificed by your village to be the god’s offering. You expect to die—but instead, the whole situation spirals into a maddening obsession.

character(s): yandere!god, you

warnings(s): possessive, manipulative behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamic

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read

You do not expect anything but death.

You hear the hostility and animosity boiling in their throats, scorching your skin with the heat of a thousand suns. You feel the hands that pull at you roughly, dressing you up in garments you’ve never worn before— silks that are red, hot and heavy, a veil that hides your features. They do not bother to hide the wounds that are festering on your skin—it is a common fact that the God, Elias, kills the offerings, and his heart is as cold as ice. He will not bother about you. He will not care about you. You know that being offered is akin to courting death.

You are despised by the village. You are abandoned by your parents, and you have no one to call a family or friend. The scars you bear are not pretty, either, and no woman will take you as a husband, and no man will take you in as his wife. 

You have lived a lifetime of suffering, and now you only wait for it to end.

So you choose to close your eyes, having a fitful sleep in the rocky carriage. You are convinced that this night will be your last.

—

You do not see the God named Elias, at first. 

But you hear his voice in whispers, in echoes. 

“So you must be the new offering,” his voice is soft, elegant, graceful—your first thought is that he cannot be the fearsome God people speak of—“do you, [Name], know of the fate that awaits you?”

You are a mortal. You feel fear, no matter how much you’ve prepared yourself. You will fear death, after all, and you will wonder if your death will feel quiet and painless, or if it will be excruciating. You’ve heard horror stories of the latter.

“You…” your voice stays firm to your surprise, “will kill me.”

You still cannot see him. He is described to be beautiful in some stories, ugly in others. You truly don’t know. But his voice is lilting, quiet, and music-like. Is it toned down on purpose for you to let your guard down? Will he rip your heart out the minute you doze off? Will he torture you before he kills you? There are a million questions you don’t dare to ask him.

“Truthfully,” the voice holds amusement. “You are the first to truly make it to me.”

You stiffen. “I’m sorry?”

“The others have died, yes,” the God says, “but I did not kill them. They committed suicide. Is it not pathetic to have people be so fearful of you that they will choose to end their lives before they meet you?”

He’s lying. He’s definitely…lying. You remember the horror stories you’ve heard: first, the village chief’s daughter, Sarah, who had her throat ripped out viciously because she dared to be rude. Second, the village chief’s niece, Amelia, who had her body found beneath a cliff, supposedly punished for her grave misdeeds for stealing, thirdly, the male, Rufus, who had been the first male offering towards Elias, who had his remains returned to him for supposedly no reason.

“And spreading rumors about the deity cruelty, really,” Elias’s voice flows on like a steady stream, mirthful, “ridiculous, is it not?”

“Are you…” you find your voice at last, “saying you didn’t kill them?”

“No, of course not,” Elias says, “you are the first one who has made it to me.”

“That is not one I’ve heard.”

“Rumors can be exaggerated.”

You think back to the earlier offerings: of Sarah, who kicked at you, spat at you, and slapped you until your cheek welled. Of Amelia, who framed you for stealing and got you whipped in front of the village folk. Of Rufus, who got a group of boys to strip you of your clothes before they dumped you shivering into a river. They met a rather fitting death.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “if you want to kill me…”

You squeeze your eyes. Your heart is thumping against your chest wildly: you feel fear course through your veins, fear thrumming at the surface of your mind. Do not be deceived, you tell yourself. Do not be deceived by this murderous God.

The blow never comes.

Your heart still beats.

You are still alive.

You can’t see him, but you can feel a hand tip your chin up.

“Now,” Elias says, his tone strangely fond, “why would I ever kill you? I’ve been looking forward to your arrival for a long time after all.”

—

You see him for the first time, drenched in moonlight.

The first thing you think is: he’s beautiful. He is. He truly is. His hair is silvery blue under moonlight—it’s long and falls to his waist. His features are delicate, yet masculine enough for him to seem more handsome than beautiful. Everything about him seems—perfect—the slant of his nose, the glittering of his magnificent teal eyes, and the fullness of his lips. He seems so vividly familiar to you.

For the past few days, he’s been speaking to you merely as a voice; as a shadowy whisper floating to your ears. 

And everyday you marvel at the fact you’re alive. You’re still alive.

He treats you gently. He treats you like the very thing you were supposed to be: a bride. He brings you gifts, he feeds you well, he dresses you generously in luxurious silks and attire. You didn’t see his face then, but you could feel the sensation of his gentle touch against your skin, as he brushed off a petal, or a loose strand of hair.

You want to ask him why. Why he chooses to hide his appearances, why he treats you so well. You fear the answer. You fear that this was how he treated the earlier offerings before he slaughtered them. You fear many things, and his tenderness is one of them.

“I kept you waiting, didn’t I?” Elias says softly, before he reaches out to you. You flinch, and he frowns. “My mana has yet to be restored. I apologize. What’s wrong, [Name]?”

You think back to his words a while back: why would I kill you? I’ve waited a very long time for you. Does this apply to the general idea of a companion, or is he referring to you in particular?

“Before all this…” you murmur. “Did you know me? Did I know you?”

Your memories are patchy as a kid. You cannot remember the face of your mother, and neither can you remember the face of your mother. They are all erased in your mind.

Elias smiles. He always smiles at you—you can’t tell if it’s genuine or deceitful. You tell yourself continuously that it’s fake—it’s easier to live with him that way. Every breath you take, you are amazed at the fact that blood still flows within your body. The place you live is empty, except for strange servants, except for Elias. It’s a lonely place, completely devoid of anyone. It makes you realize that divinity is lonelier than any human existence.

“I’ve waited a long time for you,” is all Elias tells you. His hand reaches out to you and touches your cheek gently, pressing on a scar almost sorrowfully. “You must have gone through a lot of pain in the village. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.”

“You know me.” You swallow, “but I don’t know who you are.”

Elias doesn’t say anything. He kisses your forehead gently, brings you to the bed, and tells you to sleep well. His skin is cold against your own and he pulls the sheets over your body, bading you goodbye.

“Sleep well, [Name],” Elias murmurs. “I will tell you another day.”

—

That night, you dream for the first time in years. And this dreams continue to persist for the next few days,

You dream of a flower field. You see your fingers picking our petals from the flowers. The flowers are odd, unlike any other thing you’ve seen before. It has silvery blue petals, much like the color of Elias’s hair. You see a silhouette from a distance, and you feel yourself calling out a name—

“—Elias,” you whisper, as you fist the blanket. You had awoken from the dream in panic, and now you found yourself panting, shivering. What was that? You think desperately, just what was that? A cold feeling washes over you, and you stumble to your feet. You find yourself walking to the grass outside, your bare feet treading on grass. Your eyelashes flutter as you feel the breeze caress your cheeks.

You freeze.

Your hand trembles as it reaches out to touch the flower in front of you. It’s the exact flower you found in your dream.

“I don’t…” you give a long sigh, closing your eyes. A headache starts to thrum in your head. “I don't know what’s going on anymore.”

Ever since you came here, you’ve seen flashes of memories pop in your head—of laughter, of the warmth of shared hands, of someone. The boy cannot be seen, and he’s unnamed. You feel younger, more childish, more happy in your dreams. And each time the male turns to face you, the dream ends. 

You feel your heart getting weighed down every time you wake up. Turn around, you plead, turn around! Let me see you!

You feel a blanket drape over your shoulders, and you soften. “Elias.”

“[Name]. What are you doing so late at night?”

“I’ve had…” you say absentmindedly, “the same recurring dream.”

“A nightmare?” Elias asks, his voice dressed in concern. A hand immediately reaches out to touch your forehead, measuring your temperature. “Do you feel unwell? Humans are such fragile creatures.”

“You speak as if you’ve lost a human before.” You say, amused, before you shake your head. “No. Not nightmares. Strangely enough, I’ve dreamt of this flower field multiple times. With someone…with myself, reaching out to these very flowers, plucking off the petals…” you turn to face him. “I don’t know anything, Elias. I only know your name. You don’t tell me why you care for me so. You don’t tell me the truth about the earlier offerings. You don’t…”

You don’t tell me anything.

It’s impossible for you not to fall in love with him. Such gentleness—such love—can only cause your feelings to spiral out of control. It can only cause you pain and grief. Elias has ulterior motives, you are convinced, and you use use those motives to destroy your feelings before they can destroy you. So you continue.

“But perhaps it’s for the better, isn’t it? To place a distance. After all, a mortal can never be a God. And a God can never be a human.” You tilt your head. “You are shrouded with mysteries. You will never explain anything to me. You will treat me with fondness—love, almost—and you will expect me not to doubt you. But of course I doubt you. How can I not, when all my life, I’ve been taught that love is a privilege, and not a right?”

“No, [Name],” Elias says in a strangled voice.

That’s foolish, you think, gods should never have such an expression on their face.

Elias’s heart throbs. He’s heard these very words before from you. He has. You don’t know it—you don’t know that he’s been waiting for your reincarnation for ages now—you don’t know that he does know you, from eons, centuries ago.

.

.

“But you’re human, aren’t you?” You smiled as you faced him, joy alighting on your features. “Why must you rob yourself of such emotions?”

Human..

Your words were like music to his ears. They filled him with immeasurable joy.

Human.

How long had it been since someone said that to him? His mother had told him before, perhaps, but that had been…no, had anyone even told him that before?

A person as bright as the sun, as beautiful as the flowers. Those were his thoughts as he looked at you— a picturesque sight you made indeed, hair messy and a playful smile on your face, limbs dipped in the water. You seemed more like a God than himself, with the way the moon seemed to favor you; coating your whole body in some resplendent light.

Your scent had him intoxicated. Your voice. Your words.

Elias had loved you desperately. He had, before you had been ripped away from him from a common cold that killed you.

Elias grieved.

Humans are such fragile creatures.

.

.

“I did,” Elias turns away, shadows casting down on his face. “I did know you.”

You don't say anything for a few seconds, before you open your mouth. “What?”

“There’s a reason I asked for offerings,” Elias murmurs. “I thought it would be you. I wanted you to come back to me. It wouldn’t matter to me what form you would be in, what you looked like—I just wanted you with me.”

“You must be the male in the dream, then,” you realize, “but—”

“I’ve waited so long for you since you died.” Elias swallows. His gaze is almost murky, almost dangerous… “so, so long. Centuries have passed since the last time I saw you alive. You pledged your eternal devotion to me then. But you…” Elias’s hands are cold as they seek warmth within yours. “You took so long to appear to me again.”

“Then the offerings. They didn’t commit suicide, did they?” You ask him. You know the answer. And you fear that you’ll forgive him for his cruelty. After all, is this not the male—not the God—who has treated you with so much kindness? So much love? Is this not the God whom you dream of, the one who had been your lover before? Is this not the God whom you have so utterly and pathetically fallen for? You have given your heart to a God, and now his divinity will kill both your souls. 

“They hurt you,” Elias closes your eyes. His hands are pulling you to him now, your head buried into the crook of his neck. “I…lied, because I simply…” He kisses your neck softly, his tone low. “…I could not deal with the idea, [Name], of those dirty vermin hurting you. And I waited and waited and waited for that useless village chief to send you; for me to reunite with you, but…it took four tries. Four tries, [Name].”

Your memories are rushing back to you. You remember Elias’s words from your past life: I’m sorry, [Name]. Loving a God is never easy. When I kiss you, you will taste the loneliness rotting my tongue. When I hold your hand, you will feel the ichor and ice in my veins, freezing you, and when I gaze at you, you will see my faults and my coldness. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to remember you.” You shake your head. “I didn’t..understand. I didn’t understand anything at all. I felt confused; lost: in a constant state of almost anger—because I wanted a reason greater than my love for you to explain why you were so tender to me.”

“I do,” Elias almost melts against your skin, like he’s seeking refuge within you; like he’s been starved and deprived and he’s been finally quenched of his thirst—“I love you, [Name]. I…”

His love for you is terrifying. He’s seen ungodly parts come out within him when others hurt you, when others dare to lay a hand on him. It has taken three bodies to be sent back to that stupid village for you to come to him. Divinity is lonely, and Elias hated the days without you. You have to be with him. You have to be with him, no matter what. He will not allow any other thing: you will stay by his side, he will annihilate everyone who dares to even touch you. You’ve given him a reason to live, and now he must make sure to protect you. Elias has never cared about mortals until now: but now he laments their weaknesses, he loathes their fragile selves. 

Everything that Elias has ever loved has disappeared. His mother perished. The pets he raised as a kid died. And now you…Elias fears that he’ll have to wait another few centuries for you should you die again.

He is willing to wait, of course, but sometimes, it’s impossible—it’s impossible.

Elias never had a chance to kiss you. Despite being your lover in your previous life, he’s never kissed you before. And perhaps that is the answer of divinity: his divinity will flow from his lips to yours. Perhaps it’ll be painful, but you love him too, don’t you? Won’t you stay with him?

It does not matter. Nothing will matter. Perhaps fragility is best. It’ll ensure that you’ll never run away from him, after all. You say you love him, currently—but how can he be so sure of that? Humans lie too, and you are still human.

Elias will make sure that you are beside him, no matter what, even if it means ripping your humanity away from you.

comments are always appreciated! I apologise if the pacing felt strange and the writing was off :’) low key forgot how to do oneshots. pls reblog and like, it’ll mean so much to me!

vei sama i have a request pwetty pls may i get yandere!monster x m reader it can be scenarios or oneshot or even a drabble i am so hungry for your writing

𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ( y! naga x m! human reader )

yandere! naga x m! human reader

warnings:

kidnapping

creepy + stalking behavior

dubcon/noncon

oh and some venom poisoning

brief mentions of corpses

first post here so idk what to add help

thank you for requesting pookie 🙏🙏 this almost went into smut territory ngl but i remember u said u only want a little bit of sexy so i'll end it right there hehe + i think its better for it to stop right there too so :)) hope you love this one since i know you like snake bois 🎀🎀

✾ | you are a hunter, a monster hunter, to be exact; stalking predators under the safety of shadows, silently prowling, avidly watching.

✾ | you have always known the dangers ever since you were but a little boy, ever since your father fell victim to the large amount of dangerous beast leeching their hide in the darkness of the woods.

✾ | but being a monster hunter has its perks—money, for one—and you are never one to deny yourself, especially when you have the perfect set of skills that would make the job much, much easier.

✾ | the request that forever alters the fate of your life comes in a murky, rainy evening, brought to you by a young survivor who lived to tell the tale.

✾ | the heaving man with haunted eyes comes to you immediately, pace frantic as he pushes through the crowded tavern to hand you a heavy bag of gold.

✾ | "this is only a quarter of it," he says as he pants, a hand shivering as he holds on to his own cloth. "i want you to kill the hideous beast hiding in the cave. i want him dead by the morrow."

✾ | by the time the clouds above has parted enough to let way for the moonlight to shine on the damp earth below, you are already in gear, striding into the forest with a rabid-like smile.

✾ | if only you had known that, this time, the monster you'd thought would be your prey, has been eagerly awaiting your presence all this time.

✾ | as you wait near the cave, searching for signs of life from a safe distance, your predator is all smiles, feasting on your figure from afar, unseen, patient.

✾ | when you think to yourself there is no monster hiding inside the cave, nothing but a mountain of corpses and bones that's putrid smell crawls under your skin, the creature lunges from the shadows, presence felt before seen.

✾ | your weapon helplessly clatters to the ground before the creature swiftly seizes both your wrists behind your back with a single, powerful hand. then, a cruel, slithering tail entwines your lower body, coils tightening around you with inescapable force, rendering you immobile in the creature's grasp.

✾ | you cannot run, so you twist your neck for a glimpse, only for both awe and horror to fill your lungs. it almost leaves you breathless.

✾ | you realize that the creature that has captured you is a naga, a serpent guardian, a half-human and half-snake, feared and revered in equal measure.

✾ | his upper body is unmistakably human, with muscular arms and a face that is both eerily beautiful and terrifyingly alien. his lower body, however, is a massive, sinuous tail, its powerful coils tightening around you with every passing second.

✾ | the naga smiles at you, and an instinctive shiver wracks your body, a distant part of your mind realizing that, somehow, the naga has been patiently waiting for this, for all of this, for you.

✾ | the naga's grip tightens, pulling you closer until you can feel the heat of his scorching breath against your skin.

✾ | slowly, almost deliberately, he laps at your trembling neck with his forked tongue. the twin tips of his tongue flicker over your pulse point, sending hot shivers down your spine.

✾ | and then, without warning, he plunges his sharp teeth into your neck, a searing pain radiating from the puncture wounds, a breathless gasp escaping your lips.

✾ | you can feel his venom coursing through your veins, a burning heat spreading from the bite as your vision blurs and your limbs grow heavy. it takes hold quickly, the venom rendering you completely powerless against him.

"You are adorable, little hunter," the naga says, sweetly. He releases his hold on your hands, now that you are unable to struggle, and cradles you against him, pressing you flush against his upper body, as if to soothe you.

His hand carefully caresses your cheek as he looks down at you, smiling gently, almost proudlike. "A human who acts like we are prey, a human who thinks himself better than us. How rare it is to find a piece of treasure like yourself."

With the last of your strength, not yet rendered useless by the venom, you turn your head away, only for his fingers to catch your chin, tilting your gaze back to him.

"I have been watching," he croons, "for quite some time now. My eyes have always followed you, whenever you stepped foot into these woods."

Your breath hitches at the confirmation, but even more so at how utterly enamored the naga sounds as he says those haunting words.

"My little hunter, my adorable treasure. Your presence has tempted me for so very long now. I could no longer ignore it, especially when I imagined how exquisite you would look under my grasp."

You feel utterly helpless, and it doesn’t help when he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “So I made a plan.”

You close your eyes, but you can still feel the naga’s gaze piercing into you.

"The man who gave you this job—a frail, pathetic-looking man, wasn’t he? It was I who sent him.” He laughs, a cruel and chilling sound. "It was I who ordered him to find you, to send you here, so you could be all mine."

A soft kiss is pressed against your cheek, and you suppress your urge to vomit.

"I'm glad you arrived here safely, my little hunter. I am so utterly happy, so utterly famished to taste you, to taste everything of you."

His heavy breath is against your ear now, and you can feel him grin as he asks, "You would want that too, wouldn't you?"

You open your eyes, see the crazed look in his slitted eyes, and tremble once more. "There is no need for such fear in your eyes, my sweet darling. I am not your villain," he sing songs.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

"I am not your predator, and nor are you my prey."

Your jaw clenches as your mind spins and spins and spins.

The naga chuckles at your expression, wanting to forever etch it into his mind. "You and I. We will only ever be each other's. I am yours, and you are mine."

"Beast," you finally spit out, venom lacing your voice.

The naga pauses, his eyes widening, before an absolutely elated expression crosses over his face. He seems terribly sated as he, so very slowly, whispers to you his greatest and utmost desire, "I am your beast. Forever."