Call Me Yours (Yandere x Reader Oneshots)

M. War Hostage x F. Marshall

With a blindfold over his eyes, a short-haired blonde male remained. He attempted to figure out his surroundings as best as he could, feeling chains against his neck, hands, waist, legs, and hips. A bit overkill if he did say so himself. However, it was smart of them to go to such lengths. Anything less than that and he would already have escaped by then. Yet he was rendered incapacitated, a scoff escaping his lips. Even as he attempted to tug away from the chains, they didn't move. In fact, they registered his attempt to budge free, shocking him and making him grit his teeth in pain.

The chains rattled as he recovered from the electricity, the blonde scowling at the situation he was in. He had been ambushed in the dead of night. The abandoned arena they took temporary refuge in was completely obliterated by a giant explosion. No doubt the work of the highly superior weapons the enemy had access to, more than half of his soldiers killed by the explosion while the others were surrounded. He, himself, despite his attempts to fight back, was knocked out by a very arrogant woman, the sight of (h/c) hair the last thing he saw.

An important leader of a force rebelling against the tyranny of a new dictatorship, he was a constant threat. As such, it was no surprise that they took the opportunity to capture him when the opportunity arose. Obviously, they wanted to see if they could pry out any information from him, not that he planned on letting them get anything out of him. Attempting to bite down on his tongue, he was met with a gloved hand lodged in his mouth, preventing anything from progressing. He gagged until the hand gripped onto his tongue, the action quite mocking.

"A coward's way out," a feminine voice chuckled, the male furrowing his eyebrows, "Well, I'd let you, but then I won't get what I want. So be a good boy and be patient."

The blonde attempted to bite down on the girl's hand; however, the gloves she wore prevented harm from being done to her. So despite his efforts to harm the enemy in some way, he didn't even get close, even being ridiculed with her amused laugh. She patted his cheek patronizingly before removing the blindfold, allowing him to see her fit form. The (h/c) haired marshall certainly lived up to the name of her title. With a confident disposition about her and clever, graceful movements, she showed no sign of weakness.

She shoved the blindfold into his mouth to deter him from biting at his tongue before looking him up and down. Her gaze was scrutinizing and deeply intimidating, but he sought to do the same as her. Observing as much as he could about her, he found her to have little regard for her own modesty. The tight leather suit clung to her skin, its zipper down to her mid-abdomen, showing her bare bosom. With a belt full of poison, bullets, and other advanced technologies or biological weapons, she was prepared to deal with any threat no matter the situation. He supposed that was why she got the jump on him.

"Your name is Servius Adauctus," she hummed, looking down at a hologram that projected from her wrist, "Quite young for your position, but I guess that's because you're short on supporters. Ah, but talented, hm? You were the one responsible for the midwestern pass incident last year. Impressive."

"Don't patronize me," the male attempted to say, only for the gag to make it an indecipherable murmur.

"No, no, I mean it. Without access to any superior weapons or technology, you've managed to survive for quite some time. Can't say the same for the others."

The blonde remained silent, knowing that his words would only have harmed him and his companions than they would have helped. In fact, it seemed the only thing he could have done in that situation was to gather any information he could and somehow make it back to his companions. All the while, he would have to avoid giving away any information of his own. He didn't know what they had at their disposal or if they had some secret machine to make him reveal his secrets or fish them out from his head. If that was the case, he may as well have died then and there. His existence was little more than an obstacle to his allies.