𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓼 ♡ || Yandere Heizou x Reader

Chapter 20!

CW: Implied Stockholm syndrome

ALSO I WAS WONDERING WHAT YOU GUYS THOUGHT OF MY WRITING STYLE PLEEEASE GIVE FEEDBACK!! IM A GROWING BOY!!!!!

additionally, i went on some rant about my OCs and showed their designs at the end so feel free to skip it LMAO

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Looking across the table, a familiar pair of spring-green eyes meet mine. He's so pretty. So... so... pretty...

I'm too far gone.

A soft smile compliments his lips, dull fangs glinting underneath. That feeling again. Actually, a lot of feelings again, colliding in my mind, crashing against each other like waves, canceling each other out in a winding, twisting, clashing, ripping motion, until I can't think. It's so foggy. Everything feels so small. And amidst all the turmoil in my brain, one word pops out of the jumbling gumball machine.

"Why?"

I've been tested and prodded and poked and tied and sunken and tried and stolen from, and now... all I have left are questions. My family? Gone, for all I know. Kazuha? Dead. Beidou? Gone. My grandparents, my aunts, my uncles, my friends? All a distant memory. I try to think of someone, and remember the appearances of my best friend, but I can't. The texture of the fur (or scales) of my old pets (or friend's pets if you never had any). The sensation of my fingers twisting around a pencil.

But all that comes up are pictures of Heizou's eyes. His teeth, his slim frame, his slender fingers. The feeling of his warm, wet body against mine, the only hotness in that vast sea of cold. The only lantern in the dark.

And a part of me kept saying "He is the dark! He is the dark!" But oh, oh God, oh Archons, I want him. I don't want to listen to that little voice, that little voice I've been letting command me my entire life.

I feel that little voice dying. Each day I spend, locked away here. Withering away, like a flame. Heizou's foot stomping down upon the last sparks, grinding it out, smushing it in, until it's just a pile of ashes. Just a reminder of who once was. A flame which once burned.

Even when I think back on a week ago, the day when I smelled that awful stench, rotting and twisting limbs rearranged like a Mr. Potato-head, like some children's game, and I knew it was Kazuha. In those moments, that little voice leaps back out and tries to grab me by the collar of my shirt but it doesn't quite reach. It's like having lice.

My attention is snatched back to the maroon-haired man sitting across from me in the heart of the house as soon as he tilts his head.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" He grins a snake-like smile, thin as a crescent moon. I know I better answer him or this psycho will rip out my brains and figure it out himself.

"...You." I respond quietly, looking down at the steam rising from my cup of tea. It hits my chin and leaves me feeling warm, but I can't shake this awful, dull, cold feeling in my stomach. Something no fire could ever warm.

"Mmm... really? Is that what's going on in your noggin?" He looks me in the eyes with this piercing stare, like a cat's. The type of stare animals give you when you've provoked them or stepped on their tail.

"Of course." I mumble. The edges of his lips curve down into a frown and his eyes widen slightly.

"Are you lying to me?" What a simple question. So simple, yet the answer seems so complicated.

"No," I pause. Briefly, I gaze up at him and the look on his face hits me like a bullet. So shocking, I immediately look back down at my steaming tea. "Well... it wasn't just you." He tilts his head curiously. "I was... um..."
"Come on, use your words." His S's are sharp like a blade. His eyelids have relaxed a little and a reserved smile rests comfortably on his face.