Needy Mark Variant who in his universe praised the very ground you walked on, compliments frequently rolling off his tongue and into your mouth as he sucked you in more than he did air.

Needy Mark Variant who would do anything you asked him to without a moments notice. Sometimes even performing random acts of love if only to earn your praise.

Needy Mark Variant who would do whatever it takes to get you to call him your good boy. His face nudged against your palm as he looked up at you with sad pathetic eyes, urging you to praise him for a job well done with whatever it was he'd just done for you.

Needy Mark Variant whose pupils begin to dilate when he sees you wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties, his hands roaming your body and touching you in all the right places that makes the fabric of your underwear damp with need.

Needy Mark Variant whose on his knees, face pressed against your cunt as he presses the flat of his tongue against your puffy clit, repeatedly licking stripes into your slit all the while doing his best not to cum right then and there.

Needy Mark Variant who sometimes needs to be punished for not listening, his hair getting pulled with a hiss as you try to get him to stop licking and sucking at your cunt after you just came all over his face, his chin dripping with your juices as you see just how drunk he got off of servicing you like the good boy he is.

Needy Mark Variant who you make whimper and moan beneath you, your hand stroking his aching cock in a painfully slow rhythm that has him attempting to buck his hips to try and gain more friction. Please. Please. Please! Slurred out from him as he grips the sheets, his eyes practically rolled to the back of his head as he pants and follows your every stroke with his hips.

Needy Mark Variant who isn't allowed to cum unless you allow him to, and once you do he's shooting ropes onto himself, the head of his cock twitching against his stomach after you let go. Once he's caught his breath your hand returns to his shaft and you begin pumping him until he's a muttering mess, complaining about how sensitive he is, and how he thinks he might die if you keep going.

Needy Mark Variant who easily gets hard again but this time he can hardly think passed the haze in his fucked out mind, his body moving purely on instinct as he lets you take the reins from him <3

Needy Mark Variant who wanted nothing more than to propose to you. that empty spot on your ring finger a reminder that you weren't his just yet - at least not in a way that would keep others away from you.

Needy Mark Variant who flew you to paris, the city of love, and had prepared a grand gesture in order to impress you. he had made sure everything would be perfect, from the music, the food, and even the weather too.

Needy Mark Variant who had just gotten down on one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket for the small box as he ignored all else around him and focused entirely on you - your mouth covered by your hands in shock as he admired the way your eyes twinkled with excitement.

Needy Mark Variant who had just opened his mouth to say the words right as the front half of his person was doused with your blood, his shellshocked expression frozen in place as his mind stuttered to catch up with what had just happened.

Needy Mark Variant who felt something snap inside him that day. he hadn't bothered to hear the viltrumite woman out after she'd killed the one thing that mattered to him. he'd made sure to drag out her demise, to make it as painful as possible if only to stop the aching emptiness her action had left inside him.

Needy Mark Variant that fell into a deep depression after your death. he was lost, set on a path without proper direction as he felt forced to navigate towards a destination with no real purpose left for him.

Needy Mark Variant who died that day with you. he stopped going out as invincible, didn't bother helping the GDA or GOTG whenever they called, and instead spent his time doing nothing but exist.

Needy Mark Variant who spent a year following the same routine until one day his saving grace finally arrived. An offer, one he was readily agreeing with before the man could finish what he'd have to do in return.

Needy Mark Variant who needed you more than he needed air.

Needy Mark Variant who found a new purpose in life, and once more it happened to be you <3

When she’d first seen your haggard appearance after a week of no contact, her initial response had been guilt; that ever-gnawing feeling that started in her chest until it made its way into her consciousness and ate away at all her thoughts until all she could think of were her regrets, and how she shouldn’t have taken so long with her latest assignment when she knew you weren’t in the best of places before leaving.

She’d apologized, of course, offering to make you a steaming cup of tea as an apology, all the while you stood there with that dying spark in your eyes – and in the recesses, a faint glimmer of hope that Ada was proud to be the origin of.

As soon as she was inside your home she took off her coat and brought you into a hug, knowing that whenever you had your lows any affection sent your way would be soaked up like a sponge. And as she had expected, you returned her embrace without a second of hesitation. All it took was a hug for you to begin breaking down. Ada made sure to comfort you in any way she could, her hands rubbing soothing circles on your back as she repeatedly whispered sweet words of affirmation – that everything would be okay now that she was around again. A promise that fell easy from her lips, and one she questioned whether they were directed at you or herself.

With you around it was easy for Ada to forget about everything she’s seen, to forget the frightened faces of those whose life she’s taken all in the name of cash. She could pretend to be somebody else with you around, the person she thinks she could have been if she hadn’t taken up the life of a Mercenary.

So whenever she was forced apart from you she felt the mask form back over her face; a trained Mercenary who held no attachments to anything or anybody, for that matter. It was easy for her to get lost in the act without you around, she needed you to keep her afloat lest she drown in the ever-growing darkness that became her moral compass.

She needs you, and as the two of you spent more time together, she began to crave your time and affection like an animal starved. Ada’s never had a friend before, at least not a genuine one. You were the best accident to have ever happened to her. So given her lack of experience in the friendship apartment, she didn’t know how to properly react when you were suffering through the worst of your depression. Instead, years of work as a Mercenary kicked in, thoughts of how she could use this situation to her advantage racing through her mind on a loop.

Finally, you needed her. She’d decided right then and there to become the picture-perfect version of what it means to be a friend, and in turn, you’d hopefully begin to seek her out in all possible instances.

With one hand rubbing soothing patterns on your back, she used her free hand to pull your head onto her shoulder to ensure you wouldn’t catch a glimpse of the smile that finally cracked through her facade.

She’d take care of you, give you everything you could possibly need to feel better if it meant you’d give yourself to her while she did so.

If we were to go off an older version of Leon then I could imagine he’d be less “reactive” in his approach, so to speak. He’d get a notification on his phone which he jailbroke that there was movement near the house and then immediately send a message to whoever was close by to go and retrieve you – knowing full well that nobody would ever be able to get near his property, and that if there were ever movement caught in his home sensors, it would have to be from you.

After years of working for high-end government officials and making friends with powerful figures, it’s safe to assume that Leon would have enough connections to keep you right where he wants you to be. By the time he’s able to come home from work, ready to scold his child for leaving the house ‘unsupervised’, he all but forgets his practiced speech after seeing your obvious distress.

This man is delusional enough, however, to blame everything but him. Was the food he left you not to your liking? Did you hurt yourself while you were outside? As his assumptions begin to escalate, it takes everything in him not to outwardly show his anger at the prospect that the person who was ordered to bring you back may have hurt you in the process.

So instead of scolding you for going against his wishes, he instead frets over your well-being, completely forgetting what you’d done for the time being to make sure you were okay. And then when he’s more level-headed and sure that you are doing just fine, he enacts his punishment by putting you on his version of restriction.

You lose the privilege of the T.V. and any other electronics for that matter, leaving your only form of entertainment to be whichever books he deems appropriate enough for you depending on your age. If you were an adolescent then he’d leave you with picture books, maybe even take your toys away. If you were a teenager, then he’d take all the electronics away and leave you with the classics they assign you to read at school such as, “Lord of Flies” and, “Fahrenheit”. Now, if you were an adult, he’d be more inclined to give you free rein towards what you consumed, allowing for you to choose the genre of the books you’ll be spending your time with until he deems your restriction over and done with.

Leon would never get physical with you, seeing you hurt and crying was the last thing he ever wanted to see. He’d rather see a man lose a limb than see you crying over something as miniscule as a cut, especially if he were to accidentally be the reason you were injured in the first place.

In short, if Leon had ever decided to “bring his child home” against their will, he’d have to be delusional enough to effortlessly make excuses on their behalf whenever they were to act out or try to go back to their actual family.

She’d spent a large portion of her youth training for this mission and an even longer time fantasizing about all of the ways she could make a name for herself. In the eyes of her best friend Rebecca, she was admirable – someone with aspirations that could take her far from those alone. But in the eyes of her Captain, she was naive and overly reckless when it came to her well-being.

She wasn’t stupid enough to argue against her superior, but where her words failed came her body language that expressed more than she intended to. Especially now when it seemed her Captain was more worried about her injury than she was.

They’d been split into groups with the hopes that in doing so they’d be able to cover more ground given the sheer size of this place, and of course, she’d been partnered up with her over-bearing Captain. He’d immediately started barking out orders; for her to stay close, not to touch anything, get behind him if anything came out, etc.

But what was she supposed to do when her Captain’s life was put in jeopardy? She wasn’t about to just stand around and let him get hurt– she knows for a fact that he would have done the same for her in a heartbeat, so any type of scolding he could have possibly directed her way bounced off her consciousness like a ball to pavement.

“You would have been hurt, Captain. The team needs you alive, and as your subordinate, it’s my duty to ensure this mission– ouch!” She withheld from flinching back from his touch after he applied the balm of disinfectant to a cut on her arm. After realizing he timed when he applied it to when she’d try to defend herself, she pouted.

“When I told you to stay put, you were supposed to listen. You went against my order and acted out of line, that in itself is a punishable offense.” He scolded, wrapping a bandage around her arm while he did. Y/n opened and then closed her mouth, sighing. Rebecca had told her that she didn’t have it nearly half as bad as she did, that their Captain never paid anyone else half the mind as he did for her.

What had she done to deserve her Captain’s constant fretting?

“I just… I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

For a moment his hand paused its ministrations, his concealed eyes staring into hers for once instead of through her. And then he tutted, standing himself up and offering her hand so she could stand too. She took it without hesitating, trusting him to carry her up and not let her fall, but regretted it somewhat when his hand wound up in her hair and ruffled it.

“And you’ve made that clear, but don’t do that ever again, Captain’s orders.”

She should have stayed home that night, she shouldn’t have rolled her eyes at her mother before leaving, she shouldn’t have avoided her mother when she leaned in to kiss her forehead–

But she had, and now she’ll never get the chance to make it up to her. At the age of eleven, she’d been pulled aside by her friend’s parents asking if they could drive her to the hospital to go be by Mark’s side. Initially, she had assumed Mark was the one who got hurt, possibly snuck back onto the roof despite her constant warnings of why he shouldn’t be up there, but then she was pulled into an all-encompassing embrace with the words she’ll never forget whispered into her ear sorrowfully.

Your mother had been found dead.

They’re saying your little brother had seen it all happen.

Your father hasn’t responded to any of his calls or messages either, so they’re asking if you could go be by Mark’s side since he’s all alone at the hospital right now.

The drive to the hospital was spent with her staring at her hands as tension pounded into the sides of her head. She’d done her best not to think about her mother or the way they’d left things off earlier and instead put all her focus on Mark and his well-being. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what he must be feeling if what they were saying was true – at just seven years old, he’d watched his mother be killed.

She spent the rest of the drive trying not to puke, and by the time she made it to Mark all of the adrenaline that had been building up was instantly expelled. She ran to Mark’s side and pulled him into a hug, the blanket they had him draped in the only thing between them for a moment before she felt his little arms peek out from the fabric to wrap around her in return.

“You’re okay now, Mark. I got you, everything will be okay,” She continued to whisper to him, her lips meeting the crown of his head after each sentence. The more she repeated the reassurances, the more she questioned who they were really for – him or herself. Meanwhile, Mark hadn’t uttered a sound, nor had he shed a single tear like she’d started to. She found it concerning at first, and when she was pulled away from Mark and ushered out of the room she’d asked the nurses about why her little brother wasn’t saying anything, or why he wasn’t reacting like she was.

Mark was just recently traumatized, they explained. He’s most likely suffering through the first symptom of that which is shock. And given his recent witness of events, he’ll need to receive a constant flow of attentive care and affection from here on out. As his older sister, she didn’t hesitate in promising the nurses as well as herself that night that she’d do just that. She’d take her role as his older sister more seriously, unknowing that in Mark’s mind, he’d made a similar vow; to ensure that he’ll never be so weak as to let someone he cares about be hurt ever again.

\\\

Life after their mother’s death was incomparable to what it once was. With their father stricken with grief and a new motive for revenge against the person who’d taken his wife from him, he’d begun teaching her and Mark how to fight. She’d played along with the lessons in the beginning, if only for Mark’s sake. She wanted to be someone he could rely on more thoroughly, and the other reason which she wouldn’t outwardly admit given how allergic to affection her father had become, was seeing how happy the training made Mark.

It was rare to see her little brother smile so much after that eventful night, she’d done everything in her power to bring back that spark by using methods that would’ve worked before. She got him his favorite comics and even offered to read them with him. She offered countless times to play catch with him in their backyard all the while regretting the numerous times he used to do the same and she would decline. But none of her methods worked nowadays, the only ones that did were when she asked to spar and practice a new move she learned.

Mark was competitive, more so than before. He never held back with each punch, leaving her with a bruise or two on more occasions than not. Meanwhile, she let him. She knew that with her taller frame and more developed muscles she’d be able to win each fight effortlessly, but she wanted to be the reason her little brother smiled again – whether that be in victory from a fight, or when she’d playfully throw him to the ground and begin tickling him while pretending to be an enemy called, “The Tickle Monster”.

She tried her best to give Mark that semblance of a childhood back, it’s what their mother would have wanted. But she’s not around to help guide them anymore, which left their father in full control. His way of parenting contradicted everything their mother had preached; where she was gentle, he was harsh. He’d see the bruises Mark would give her and pull her aside and out of earshot to call her weak-minded for letting someone else win a fight they shouldn’t have won in the first place. And instead of arguing back, she’d bite her tongue, making empty promises to not do it again only to break that promise the very next day.

A bridge had begun to build between them, and she had convinced herself that she was fine with it. If it meant Mark could be a kid for a little longer, then she’d make those necessary sacrifices in a heartbeat. So by the time she turned eighteen and still hadn’t developed her powers, she was cast aside by him in favor of Mark. With her bags packed and at the door, she was quick to train her expression into calm neutrality at Mark’s expected appearance.

“You’re leaving? But why?” Anger carved harsh lines across Mark’s face, hardening his jaw and turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension. She felt a pinprick of anxiety poke its way into her heart, the sound of her blood pumping making her almost dizzy.

“I have to, Mark. Dad doesn’t want me around and… and this house isn’t what it used to be.” She needed a change of pace, she’d spent so long putting all of her time and energy into keeping the family together. But after all of these years of failure, it was time she faced reality and lived for herself for once.

“You can’t just leave! What would… what would mom say?” She shut her eyes, inhaling her initial anger at his words, and then exhaling any regrets she could have possibly felt at that moment towards Mark.

“Don’t, if Mom was here then she would have scolded you for even saying that.” Mark huffed, shaking his head and then turning away from her, his fists clenched.

“You can’t survive on your own, you’re weak. You’ll regret doing this.”

Y/n took in his words, and as she processed them another realization settled in – one she’d kept buried in the recesses of her mind.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” At her confession, Mark scoffed and walked back to his room. By the time he was out of frame, she cupped her mouth and hiccuped, tears warming her eyes and causing her nose to sting as if she were breathing in water instead of air.

She had failed Mark – she’d failed as an older sister.

After she’d left her childhood home and all but abandoned what she had left of her family, she stopped receiving random texts and calls from Mark. It wasn’t until four years later that all of that would change when the world would be forced to plummet into despair when she’d see him again.

But he was different, attempting to compare him to the sweet and outgoing boy from their youth was laughable. She’d heard of him through the news before everything would be changed to “Viltrumite” propaganda, that a person dressed in yellow and black had begun enslaving humans alongside the man she recognized to be her father.

So like everybody else, she’d gone into hiding. People who resisted the Viltrumite empire were slaughtered without remorse. And after a while rumors had begun to spread that those who went into hiding were deemed rebels too. She’d carved her death sentence the moment she joined a group known as the Resistance, that fact would only be given more merit when more rumors began to spread, this time involving her specifically.

“They’re looking for a person who matches your description, Y/n. And they’ve promised a reward to the first person to turn you in.” Eve, a prominent figure in the resistance, had been the first to break the news to her. Her features were drawn into concern, but her eyes told her a different story.

She had considered it at one point.

“And you’re telling me this because..?”

“I’m trying to warn you, there are people here who wouldn’t hesitate in turning you in if it means they get to save their hide.”

A hypocrite, everyone who had considered turning her in, or currently still is was a huge hypocrite in her eyes. But she needed to hear Eve out, she knows better than to take things like this at only its surface level. And what she’s beginning to understand from her words caused dread to coil furiously inside her gut.

“You’re going to suggest I leave, aren’t you?”

Eve heaved out an exasperated sigh, her elbows which were propped on the table they sat at brought into a position where she could cover her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ll give you supplies to leave with, but you being here risks the entire foundation of this group. People could begin turning on each other, or worse, they could start killing if it meant being the person who turns you in first.”

She didn’t want to argue with her either, she’d spent a year at the resistance already and the whole time of her staying there, she’d rarely contributed to the few excursions she was sent on. It was clear she’d overstayed her welcome, and that Eve wasn’t suggesting – she was demanding that she leave.

So without bothering to argue, she did. But without a clear destination in mind, she was lost. The rations they supplied her with were just enough to get by for a few days, a small mercy to reprieve the possible guilt they felt for forcing one of their own to fend for themselves in the ruins of what once was. She kept to the shadows, never lingering in one place for long, and found clothes to keep her identity better hidden. After a week of surviving on her own, videos began to display on every screen she’d come across – Mark, in his recent attire, asking that she come back home.

She didn’t want to for numerous reasons, but then the lives of others were threatened, a dozen people would be killed each day she didn’t return. So with a heavy heart, she finally relented and returned to the one place she promised to never return to.

She went home.

Upon opening the door, she was surprised to see everything perfectly intact. The other houses in the neighborhood were either ransacked or destroyed altogether. But stepping inside her old home was akin to traveling back in time. With trembling hands, she approached a picture frame of her family, her eyes immediately zeroing in on her mother’s smiling face as she held both her and Mark in her arms.

She didn’t know how long she was standing there just staring and stuck reminiscing in nostalgia, but she’d been there long enough to hear the door open and for the setting sun to paint the living room in orange hues. His shadow somewhat blocked her view of the picture frame, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her into his chest was what blocked it entirely. He smelled of smoke and iron – she tried not to dwell on the implications of it either. His arms, which she remembered used to be barely long enough to reach the top of the counter, now held her in a vice-like grip as if she were still a flight risk. He rested his chin on top of her head and exhaled a shaky breath, a smile apparent in his voice as he said,

“I knew you’d come back,”

She wanted to curse at him, to refute his statement and defend her reasons for ever stepping foot in this place again. But Mark had become someone beyond reason – he only listened to what he wanted to hear. That day when she’d left, he claimed that she’d come to regret her decision. But Mark was wrong, she didn’t regret leaving, she regretted staying for as long as she had.

\\\

Mark never let her leave the house, claiming that she’d become all skin and bones compared to the last time he saw her, and that as a human she was more susceptible to disease given her prolonged lack of nutrients. She wanted to argue back with, “And who’s fault is that?” but bit her tongue, opting to give him the silent treatment instead. He’d tut, claiming her to be the childish one now whenever he didn’t get a response, and then he would leave her be as she remained cooped up in her old room. And like everything else in the house, nothing had changed. A few pictures of her as a kid enjoying her old hobbies had been moved around, some flipped upside down and others remained standing.

She had a guess on who had messed with her things, but she didn’t have plans to call him out on it anytime soon.

\\\

“Seriously? You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate!” Mark exclaimed, walking over to her untouched food with a scowl. “Wasn’t it you who used to scold me for skipping out on meals?”

She was bundled up in her blankets, her knees pulled to her chest as she faced away from him. She saw the irony in his words and remembered back when their mother had first died how difficult it was for Mark to finish meals if she weren’t around. It took their father reprimanding him and promising a more sure method to motivate him to eat again for Mark to change his bad habits.

She hopes Mark doesn’t resort to the same methods.

“Y/n… I even got your favorite, can’t you at least be a little bit grateful?”

She ignored him, like usual. Today it would seem that Mark wasn’t in the mood for her defiant nature. She heard the bed creak beside her, her entire body tensing at the proximity before she felt a hand grip onto her shoulder, just tight enough for the pressure to sting faintly.

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to eat by yourself.”

Fingers were suddenly wrapped around her jaw, forcing her to turn in his direction. Mark was unmasked, his eyes set into a glare as his eyes followed his other hand which came up with a pinch of her discarded dinner. Her eyes widened when she realized what he was about to do, she tried to squirm out of his grasp but given their difference in strength it was futile. His fingers were forced down her throat, she gagged and tried to spit the foot back out but everything he was giving her was forcefully swallowed. He made sure it was.

By the time the food on her plate was gone, she was a mess, snot running down her nose and tears pouring out from her eyes and dripping down her chin. Mark let out a sigh and finally released his grip on her in favor of grabbing a tissue to wipe his hands clean. Y/n backed up on the bed until her back hit the wall, not letting him leave her line of sight.

“Next time, don’t make me do that, please.”

She made sure to finish her meals after that before Mark would come to visit her.

\\\

“Please… just say something!” He yelled, the bags under his eyes had been gradually becoming more prominent with the passing week. She was curious about what had been causing his recent bout of exhaustion and partly blamed herself for contributing to it if her current situation was anything to go by.

“You haven’t spoken a word since coming home! Did you lose your voice? Did… did someone do something to you?” He was pacing back and forth in front of her, a hand over his mouth as he began to mutter to himself at a speed that was incomprehensible to her. She could just barely make out, “I’ll kill them” before he stopped altogether, both of his hands covering his face now before he knelt in front of her… and wrapped his arms around her waist. She had been sitting on the edge of her bed, having just finished her meal, when Mark had entered and decided to spiral right before her.

He pressed his head against her stomach, the sounds of his breathing beginning to settle and then quiet sniffles breaking the silence between them. “Y/n… Y/n…” He whimpered, his body beginning to shake as the last of his resolve crumpled and he began to sob unapologetically. “I thought you had died… I thought you were gone forever!”

“I missed you so much, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Do you hate me that much? Please don’t ignore me, I don’t know what to do without you.”

“I was so lost without you, please never leave again!”

“No… no you won’t– you can’t leave, I’ll make sure of it…”

His rambling didn’t take long to escalate, his fraying sanity on full display as he sobbed into her shirt and soaked the fabric. If she shut her eyes and pretended she was elsewhere, then she could pretend that Mark was still that same boy that held onto her in the hospital that one night and not the murderer who he’d later become with delusions that his actions were necessary – that keeping her locked inside the house was something he had to do, and that if he didn’t she would die out there because she was human.

“I love you, Y/n… never abandon me again…” She imagined it was her little brother from before confessing this, and in her delusions, she decided to comfort that same boy by gently stroking his hair until his sobs had settled down.

“Everything will be okay, I’m here.” She rasped, her voice not coming out right due to weeks of disuse. “I got you, you’re okay.” Mark had settled in her lap, his breathing finally evening out as he fell into a peaceful slumber.

“Your big sisters got you…”

– It started with them taking pity, and then things began to escalate as she was forced to make a choice. Put her trust in this stranger in an act of selflessness, or make the smart choice and live selfishly? 

The rain was unrelenting that night in the streets of Crime Alley, and for Jason that meant it was a battle for not only food and water but for warmth as well. He’d made a home of sorts out of the material he could find lying around the dumpsters but because the material to begin with was as flimsy as they come, he ended up getting soaked anyway. 

So there he was, shivering beneath a cardboard box like some abandoned kitten, feeling more pathetic than at any other moment of his life. Each desperate gulp for moisture was akin to what he’d imagine eating gravel was like, dry and sharp. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from pondering the pros and cons of drinking out of a nearby puddle. If it meant surviving then he’d suck up what was left of his pride and do what he had to do. And as his thoughts continued to stray further into the pits of desperation, a shadow was suddenly cast over his form.

The cardboard box that had begun to drip and tear from the weight of the water was suddenly lightened, moving up with the growing cloud of water before being forced away somewhere else. Jason was mesmerized by the way the water had moved so unnaturally, and just as he was beginning to question who and what had done that, they’d stepped up and crouched in front of him, asking if he wanted them to dry their clothes for him as well with a wary look on their face.

It was obvious to him that they didn’t want to, so why bother offering in the first place?

At first, Jason glared, all the skepticism mustered into that look alone, but building trust came easy when they offered him an endless supply of clean water that came straight from the source above. He should decline, putting himself in a position where he was reliant on someone else for survival was never a good idea. But he was desperate, that much he could admit. And in his desperation, he made the choice to put his trust in someone else for the first time in a awhile just as they did the same for him. 

– After that night, Jason understood the importance of trust and how you could easily die without it.

His new friend explained to him that same night that their ability to manipulate water was meant to be a secret, and that if it got out then they would be in serious trouble. Jason listened intently, playing the part of the sympathetic friend as they stupidly told him something he could very well use against him if he so needed to.

They made it so easy. He almost felt bad, almost.

“And if that were to happen, then we wouldn’t be able to see each other again, right?” Jason had asked, the reality of losing this source of sustenance causing him to panic mildly. He kept all his thoughts and emotions reined in, aware that their partnership was still in the beginning stages. Fragile, and easily shattered if he didn’t play his cards right.

His friend nodded, nothing but seriousness in those eyes of theirs. “Let’s make a deal,” They held out their pinky, and that had Jason hesitating. Deals are what get you killed, it's what ultimately got his father killed, and it’s what could bring him down the same path if he wasn’t careful. “I’ll help you, that means anything related to water issues, and you help me by keeping my secret, deal?”

Jason thought it over for a few minutes, trying to think of all the ways this deal could backfire on him, but after realizing this would provide him more benefits than cons, he held his pinky and wrapped it around theirs. He made sure to give them his best smile, quickly understanding that all of this would be way easier than he had originally anticipated.

“Deal, but we have to know where each other is at all times, okay?” They nodded, their shoulders relaxing as he wrapped his pinky around theirs. It wouldn’t be good if they found someone else possibly better than he was to take care of their needs, that would mean he lost a good source of survival.

He needed control. And if there’s anything the lousy adults in his life taught him, it was that the best way to gain it was through emotional means.

Unbeknownst to him, his plan would backfire in the most unexpected way possible. 

– In the following years, the two of them became inseparable.

They’d both kept their promises to each other with a few unsaid rules being thrown into the mix. After they’d promised to always be where Jason was nearby or aware of, they would often get scolded whenever they’d wandered too far, or too close to someone that was on Jason’s danger list.

“I thought I told you to stay where I could see you?” Jason had a vice-like grip on their wrist, teetering on the edge of pain. It was getting harder for him to become aware of his growing strength as he got older, so they didn’t blame him whenever he accidentally caused a bruise or two.

Nothing could compare to what they’d been through with people much older and bigger than he was. And it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose, so it was easy to ignore and play off his actions. 

“I just wanted to pet that cat…” It felt like a reasonable enough response when they’d initially thought it, but saying it aloud made their face heat up in embarrassment. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’re going back to our place,” His tone left no room for argument, not that they would dare. Especially not when he all but dragged them through the streets by their wrist.

– If someone ever bothered his friend, now referred to as his best friend, then he’d make sure that person would suffer.

When Jason finally became aware of the strength he contained it was… scary to watch first hand. They’d been too fearful to step in and stop Jason from throwing those last punches, but the stinging pain on their face was a reminder of why Jason had gone as far as he had.

After Jason was finished he turned to his friend, a relieved smile on his face at seeing his best friend now safe and out of harm's way. A notion he made sure was possible as the person beneath him took their final breaths. 

“I think… I think we should head back before it starts to rain, yeah?” He wiped the specks of blood off his face in a manner that was inappropriately nonchalant considering what had just happened. He stood himself off the corpse and moved so he was instead standing in front of his best friend, those same hands that had just taken a life now gently brushing against the side of their face that stung with the pain of their newfound bruise.

He was scowling, but they understood it wasn’t directed at them. “That fucking bastard,” He mumbled, and then louder asked, “Did he hit you anywhere else?” 

They swallowed, a heavy feeling in their chest. “No…” Jason’s hand moved to theirs as he easily interlocked their fingers. He was shaking, the movement only being noticeable due to their almost unmoving state. The contrast in their demeanors was like night to day, something they chose to focus on as he brought them back to their place.

– One night, Jason disappeared. And he didn’t come back for a while.

They had begun to fear the worst, thinking their best friend was lying on the street somewhere dead after picking a fight with the wrong person. Their fear had prevented them from leaving the building Jason had called theirs, hunger and for the first time thirst wearing them down as each day passed.

But they knew Jason wouldn’t want them to stay wasting away in their lonesome, he’d want the exact opposite of that. So after years of relying entirely on Jason for their survival, they left the house and thus began a new chapter in their life.

– And then, after almost a month of radio silence, came a brightly colored vigilante.

They had been getting ready for bed when they heard the distinct squeak of a window pulling open from not too far away. Immediately their heart spiked with anxiety, the worst scenarios coming to mind as they readied themselves for a fight, only to hesitate upon seeing a kid their age wearing brightly colored clothes they’d only seen a few times upon glancing at a discarded newspaper.

“Robin?” They questioned, startling back when the colorful boy practically jumped towards them and embraced them. The water from the cup they’d left on the floor flew up and wrapped itself around Robin’s neck in a noose of sorts, just short of strangling the stranger if he were to start harming them.

But… nothing like that ever happened. They hesitated, and the collar they’d made dispersed and made itself at home in the fabrics of Robin’s uniform.

“I’m sorry… I’m so so sorry,” Robin kept repeating apologies, and the longer he spoke the more that familiarity snapped into place. They felt tears well up in their eyes, their arms finally rising to wrap themselves around Robin as they began crying. “I didn’t want to be gone for as long as I was, but now I’m back!”

They hiccuped back a sob. Was this real? Has their best friend really been okay all this time?

“I thought… I thought you were dead!” They sobbed, Robin sniffled, but he wasn’t crying nearly as much as they were.

“No, no, nothing like that! I was so worried when I couldn’t see you, but I’m here now and I can finally take you with me!”

Their confusion drowned out any happiness the reunion brought them.

“What? Jason, where have you been? And what do you mean you’re taking me somewhere?” They weren’t sure where this sudden ball of unease came from, but the longer they stood there next to Robin– no, Jason, the stronger that feeling grew. 

Everything about the boy in front of them was different. And usually, different means danger. 

And so, they spent the next few hours catching up, all of their questions being answered in ways that made their suspicion out to be unreasonable. Were they overthinking things again? Jason always told them that they tended to do that. So was this truly any different? 

– Leaving the home they’d made together was difficult for more reasons than one.

Life all at once was suddenly moving way too fast for their liking. They’d assumed the worst of their best friend and thought him dead, and after spending a month regaining their independence they were losing all of that progress all over again with his return.

They should be happy, which they are, but it felt as if they were losing something else important to them right as they’d gained something back. A constant state of losing and gaining, but they struggled to comprehend which they wanted more, and which would benefit them the most in the end.

“Jason, what if I wanted to stay here?” It was completely hypothetical, but they regretted it almost as fast as they’d said it.

A beat of silence, a sense of dread filling them that they tried their best to keep from showing as Jason stared at them with an unnatural looking smile.

“No, you made a promise, remember?” Their eyes widened as they remembered what it was he was referring to. That pinky promise from the day they first met, a deal they had proposed in their desperation for a connection that didn’t originate from an adult wanting to take advantage of them. 

Jason wrapped his hands around theirs, a slight tremble in the gesture that they weren’t sure who it came from. 

“Plus, where we’re going you can learn how to use your powers without worrying so much about keeping it a secret! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

They… supposed that did. And if it’s Jason, then they can put their trust in him. Right?

They’d done their best to keep their sickness a secret from everyone, but really, they should have known better that it wouldn’t stay a secret for long considering how close of an eye Chris kept on them. Even after all of the precautionary steps they took to ensure that specific piece of information didn’t get out, it was bound to happen because trying to keep secrets from a well-seasoned veteran of sorts was near impossible. 

Still, they had held onto hope that Chris had bought their rather lame excuse for why they were staying home – burnout mixed in with their passion for the most recent show that had caught their eye and they wanted to be alone for the next week as they indulged to their heart’s content. Not their most thought-out excuse, but the best one they were capable of coming up with on the spot with how most if not all of their thoughts strayed to how much their body was aching and how all they wanted was to go home. Plus, it would work out since Chris had always been adamant about them taking time off from work to enjoy the simple pleasantries of life.

They were lying in their bed with a now dried-up washcloth tossed to the side during the restlessness of their sleep. It was a constant struggle of being too hot and then what felt like minutes later after tossing their blankets off way too cold to be able to stay sleeping comfortably. They were filled with momentary relief when a cold and damp washcloth was placed on their forehead, the battle of temperature now balanced out with the added addition of their blanket being brought back over them. It didn’t process until the next time they’d woken up that someone other than themself had begun taking care of them, but by the time it did process, they were already being fed soup, gentle words coaxing them into opening their mouth so that they could get fed one spoonful after the other.

They blinked their eyes lazily, blurry vision just barely making out the brown of Chris’ hair and the black long-sleeved shirt he wore paired with a casual set of jeans. It was strange for them to see their supervisor of sorts wearing clothes that weren't his uniform, but even stranger that he was somehow inside their house and… taking care of them…

They turned their head away from the spoon, their eyebrows pinched together as they stared at Chris with all the suspicion they could muster. “How… how did you get my address?” It wasn’t the easiest thing to get out with how scratchy and irritated their throat was, but she knew if she kept quiet any longer these questions would begin to bother her more than this sickness already was.

Chris shrugged, “It’s in your records,” He said nonchalantly and then raised the spoon back up to their mouth. “Is the soup too hot? You were eating it just fine earlier…” They hesitated before shaking their head, still confused but suddenly too tired to even bother questioning Chris any further. They opened their mouth as instructed and took in another spoonful, keeping their eyes on Chris all the while.

“You left your door unlocked, horrible safety practice by the way. I expected better of someone who works under my division.” 

They blinked their eyes a few times at that, slow to process. Had… had they done that? They could’ve sworn they made sure to lock it a few times before heading to bed…

“...Sorry, sir.” They mumbled though they’re not too sure why they’re apologizing when it should be the other way around. Chris set aside the soup, a small noise of disapproval leaving his mouth as he stood up. 

“If you’re truly sorry, then you’ll know better than to lie to me in the future, do you understand?” 

They frowned, sluggishly nodding their head in confirmation that they understood. There was a reason they had lied in the first place, Chris was overtly protective on a good day, so throwing him into a position of caretaking almost sounded suffocating. If they had been honest about being sick in the first place, however, maybe they could’ve saved themselves from the future trouble this incident had started. 

Type of Yandere: Chris is someone who cares a whole lot about those he loves while pretending that that side of him doesn’t exist. He’ll show he cares for you in every way but verbally at first, but in moments where you two are intimate he’s not against confessing just how much he loves everything about you. And Chris also happens to be overly stubborn once he’s set in his ways, and that in turn will make it difficult to try and reason with the man when he’s decided over something. Control, a position he’s been given since he could remember, and one he’ll hold over you whenever possible. Wearing something he doesn’t like? He’ll all but demand you take it off and change out of it. And if you refuse? Then he isn’t against using other means to get his way. He’s never physical, not unless you want him to be. He’s a man of discipline and understands the importance of boundaries. No, he’ll tap into a side of him that was trained to be a negotiator. Or in simpler terms, he’ll manipulate his darling when they do or say something he disapproves of. Sometimes he’ll even do this without realizing it. Chris has an overwhelmingly dominant air to him that calls for attention and he’s well aware of it. 

Love Language: Chris can’t help but want to do everything for his darling, not wanting them to lift a single finger if it could be helped. He’ll treat you like royalty because in his eyes you deserve nothing but the best. He’s very big on touch and will often than not seek out your presence and find an excuse to put his hands on you. “Your shoulders look tense, allow me?” And without waiting for your permission will start massaging your shoulders with the skills of a certified masseuse. He’ll then playfully scold you for exerting yourself, explaining to you why it’s important to rest. “If you don’t keep taking care of yourself then I have no choice but to do it for you.”

Their Biggest Fear: Chris has seen a lot of shit, like shit people never come back from. But when he’s with his darling then it’s as if none of the traumatic events he’s experienced happened in the first place. He’ll often think to himself, “What’ll I ever do without you?” Because in his eyes a life without you isn’t one worth living. And that thought process alone is terrifying to Chris. He’s experienced what it’s like to lose people dear to him, but imagining his darling being the person he loses? Not a chance.

Kidnapping: If his darling ever tried to leave him then he’d definitely panic and jump to the worst conclusions about why you’d ever want to leave him. Those conclusions would then escalate into Chris convincing himself that someone is manipulating you and causing you to have these ‘intrusive’ thoughts. So what better way to keep his darling safe than to keep them at home – a sanctuary he’s created to be in your liking. He’s sure that with time his darling will come to understand why he needs to keep them home and the types of danger that lurks outside waiting to take them away from him.

How Easy is it to Escape?: Near impossible. Chris is an incredibly talented man with all the training a soldier could possibly need to bring an entire government to its knees. There will be locks on every door, safes containing possible escape tools, and even people Chris could rely on to have his back no matter the circumstances. Just hope that things don’t ever escalate that badly.

Punishments (SLIGHT NSFW BUT NOTHING GRAPHIC): “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” After one too many instances of his darling going against his direct orders – house rules, as he prefers to call them – he’ll see no other choice but to teach you the importance of listening to him through more intimate means. Your hands can sometimes end up cuffed to the bedpost, lovebites littering your skin as if you’d just been splashed with paint, and tears running down your face as you squirm and whine for his forgiveness through half-lidded eyes. “Oh I’ve already forgiven you, it’s about proving a point.” And he doesn’t stop until he’s done just that.

Difference to Other Yanderes: Despite how intimidating Chris can get, on the inside he’s a giant sap that often gets compared to a teddy bear more than the fierce grizzly bear the stuffed animal is based off of. He has a lot of powerful connections which also means he’ll be able to provide more than most partners. Ever been to the Grand Canyon? Sure, why not head there first thing Monday? And then right after that how about a trip to the Himalayas for the sake of going there? He’s so used to using these connections for the sake of humanity so it’s a nice change of pace to use them to prevent non-world ending threats from coming into fruition.

Type of Yandere: As your father, I can see Ethan being way too overbearing. Any chance he can get he’s either knocking on your bedroom door or meeting you in the kitchen when you went in there to get a snack to talk to you about anything he could have come up with in that moment. How was your day? What do you feel like having for dinner that night? Meet any new people? If you did meet someone new he expects all the details. Which leads into him being very controlling. From a young age he was compelled to monitor and control your friendships. If you started talking to someone he didn’t like, or if their background was too ambiguous you were banned from communicating with them until further notice. Now as your best friend, Ethan would be overprotective of you as if you were his sibling he has to take care of. If anybody happens to look at you strangely he’s pulling you closer and giving that person an equally heated look. Or if someone happened to accidentally bump into you Ethan is once again giving that person a look up until they apologize. It’s never a big deal but Ethan always insists that it is. Now if someone starts showing romantic interest in you, then his possessive tendencies start to show. You’re his best friend, not theirs. Everybody who shows interest in you is just another person looking to take you away from him.

Love Language: Ethan’s love language would for sure be spending quality time with you as well as touch. As I mentioned earlier, Ethan’s always looking for an excuse to talk to you, a master of rambling about the most mundane of things if it meant communicating with you. And as for the touching aspect, he’ll initiate physical touch by doing things like ruffling your hair, holding your hand, or even high-fiving you if you accomplished something.

Their Biggest Fear: His biggest fear would be losing you, whether that be from an argument or from the literal sense like death. He can’t imagine a world without you in it so he’s always going above and beyond to ensure you stay in it.

Kidnapping: I don’t see Ethan ever needing to kidnap you, not unless you proved to be a danger to yourself or if you weren’t taking care of yourself in the ways you were supposed to. And even if he did resort to something as drastic as kidnapping you, I could see him playing it off as an impromptu slumber party of sorts.

How Easy is it to Escape?: Physically? Sure, he’s not stopping you. But mentally? Near impossible. He’s spent so much time around you and knows more about you than you do yourself, so manipulating you comes easily to the point he doesn’t even realize that that’s what he’s doing.

Punishments: Ethan wouldn’t lay his hands on you, no, never. He would however restrain you. Such as locking you in your room as your punishment for going against his rules, or keeping you in his house until you come to understand why he brought you there in the first place. He’s more than willing to play the long game, wait however long he needs to, but are you?

Difference to Other Yanderes: As we’ve seen in the games, nothing can take Ethan out. Where there’s a will there’s a way. And with his connection to the mold (mutamycete) that causes him to metaphorically latch onto his person of interest more than a normal person should. I like to see the mold as a sentient being that's combined itself with Ethan, their common interests met halfway to each other with their common interest being you.

— His obsession with his child began the moment he learned his beloved wife was pregnant.

His mind went rampant with the possibilities of who his child would become and the kinds of traits they’d inherit from the both of them. Would they have hair like his? Or would their hair turn out to be more like their mothers? He was hoping they’d inherit their mother’s beautiful one of a kind smile, a blessing for everyone who happened to come into contact with them.

But Ethan knows that no matter what his child turns out to look like, he’d love them unconditionally because they were just as much his as he was theirs.

— The months leading up to your birth was like living through a real life fairytale.

Ethan was determined to make each day better than the last and he started doing that by showering his wife and unborn child with as much affection as possible. That started with making his meals more extravagant. While the meals he cooked didn’t even begin to compare to the restaurants he insisted he and his wife go to whenever they had free time, the gesture was still well-received and as the saying goes, “Happy wife, happy life!”

Ethan during this time researched which foods would benefit his pregnant wife and which ones she should steer clear of. While he may have come off as controlling initially, he’d managed to convince his wife that this was for the benefit of not only her, but their unborn child as well.

After all, he wanted nothing but the best for his two favorite people in the whole wide world.

—  Despite how cautious they were, there were things they couldn’t avoid.

His wife had become sick. Sicker than he’d ever seen her before. And after the doctors warned them about the possibility of losing their child it took all of Ethan’s willpower not to break down right after his wife had. 

They’d been told that the pregnancy posed a serious risk and that the possibility of death was in the higher percentages.

Ethan did everything he could, now going above and beyond to ensure his wife’s last months of pregnancy was as comfortable as possible despite the grim conclusions each doctor gave them after each appointment.

There had to be something he could do. There had to be. He couldn’t lose his family, he loved them too much and it would be unfair if he lost them right as their family was just beginning.

— The beginning of his child’s life would ultimately bring about the end of another.

Ethan never blamed his child for the death of their mother nor would he ever dare to. What happened was entirely out of their control and he hoped someday he could explain that to them as he was sure there would be a form of guilt over the absence of their mother.

As he held them in his arms he could no longer contain the tears he’d fought with so valiantly to keep at bay. You were perfect – everything he’d imagined you to be and more. 

— Ethan loved to spoil his child rotten.

Much like he did with his wife when she’d been pregnant with them, Ethan made sure to feed his kid the best of foods his salary could afford and to provide them with whatever toys they made grabby hands at whenever they walked through the toy aisle. 

Only the best for his baby, after all.

— As a result of grief, Ethan became overprotective of his child after a while.

While already protective of his child, it had quickly begun to spiral after he’d caught them crawling way too close to the stairs without the safety gate being properly latched. In that moment he picked them up with a gasp, holding them close to his chest with tears brimming at the corners of his eyes as he began to imagine the worst outcome becoming reality.

He couldn’t lose them, he’d already gone through that grief once before with the loss of his wife and it would have drowned him completely if it weren’t for his wife’s legacy keeping him afloat. 

— When his child began to grow older, he made sure to monitor what it was they watched and came off as strict as a result.

If he hears one bad thing about a show they liked to watch from another parent, or possible rumors about his baby’s show being a bad influence for the youth, then the show or movie would be banned in its entirety. If there were paraphernalia laying around the house then that would be thrown out just as swiftly. 

“I’m sorry baby, don’t cry. You know I only want the best for you.”

— Ethan became paranoid of other people, not trusting anyone with his baby.

When it neared the years for his baby to start daycare he worried himself sick over how well his kid would do when put with others their age. He would tell his kid to tell him if any of the other kids ever bothered them, and that if they ever hurt them then he’d make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

All his kid did was laugh, agreeing to tell him if another kid bothered her. And, well, as a kid a lot of things happened to bother them. From not wanting to share your toys to not liking how you were tagged during the game called, ‘tag’. 

Really, he should’ve known better. But it was better to be safe than sorry he reasons. Not every kid went without a mother, so he was waiting for the days his kid would ask him what happened to their mother. He’d already shown them pictures, but they’d never had much of an interest in learning about them. He hoped that would change as they grew older.

— Ethan liked to keep his child by his sides at all times.

More often than not the two of them were falling asleep next to each other or with his child resting comfortably in his arms as he did his best not to fall asleep so he could see the end of their movie/show. 

And when in public Ethan held onto their hand at all times, not daring to let go of their hand for a second with the fear of them wandering off somewhere he couldn’t see them or worse, far enough for them to get snatched.

— Ethan was hardly ready for his child’s time away from home to increase.

At daycare, he only had to be away from his child for a few hours. He’d signed up for the half-day schedule, meaning he was able to pick them up the moment it turned noon. But with the year ending just as fast as it had begun, that had also meant his child’s longer days of school.

He just wanted his baby to stay home all the time. To be beside him as he worked from home, or to help him cook as much as he allowed them to after careful consideration of how dangerous the kitchen is for a toddler. 

Whenever his child was away from home for too long the silence was maddening. He’d keep himself grounded with pictures and videos he’d taken at every milestone of his child’s life so far. From when they’d said their first words, “Dada!”, and when they’d first started to crawl. His favorite video so far was when they’d taken their first steps, the recording showing them walking towards him with a giant smile on their face, waiting to be picked up the moment they finished their short and wobbly journey. 

Everything was recorded.

— His baby’s first real day of school was bittersweet.

It was one thing sending them off to daycare, but entirely something else walking them to their classroom and introducing himself to his child’s teacher. He’d already done a background check of sorts, learning her history as a teacher, possible scandals, and later he’d trail her home to see what kind of home life she lived to ensure he wasn’t sending his kid off to some abuser of children. 

He’d done the same to the daycare assistants his child had previous to this year, and he’d continue to do so going forward. 

He drew the line when it came to other children and their parents, only feeling the need to if he hears word about a kid giving his kid trouble. 

— There’s no such thing as “being too careful” in Ethan’s eyes. 

Ethan prided himself at how well he managed his kids’ life so far. But sometimes he worried he’d been sheltering his kid too much. And in those moments he’d ask himself what his late wife would have done differently, if there was anything she would have done differently. But without her being around anymore to knock some sense into his spiraling mind, he’d continue to do just that – spiral.

And as his kid grew older, so did his need for control.