Call Me Yours (Yandere x Reader Oneshots)

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(Primary) Elemental Series: M. Golem x F. Witch

A (h/c) haired girl stood over a cauldron, uncertain whether she would be successful in her attempts or revel in failure. Certainly, it could have gone either way, but her nerves didn’t cease to fade in that realization. Her eye twitched with slight fear, hoping with all of her heart something would result from her hard work. That being said, she wasn’t the most gifted in the art of magic, meaning it was unlikely she would be rewarded with what she intended to make.

She held her breath with anticipation as she pulled the chain up, revealing a glimmering jewel. The ruby shimmered as the light hit in, the inscription having been carved by her clumsy but focused form. As it pulsed slightly like a heart beating, she smiled. That was a good sign. Wearing it around her neck, she traveled over to the clay being she had been sculpting. The thing was incomplete, but it had her blood, sweat, and tears. She put everything into it that she could, giving one hundred and ten percent.

Petting its lifeless head, the girl draped the heart-shaped gem over his shoulders. Although he was small, perhaps the size of a small vase, he would inevitably grow almost uncontrollably. By a month, he should be full-grown, and at that point, (Y/n) would have likely known if she succeeded or not in her endeavors. It would have been nice to have someone to help her with her clumsy nature. Of course, a heavy rock golem was hardly light on its toes, but it was something, and something was surely what she needed.

The ruby fused itself into the clay’s chest slightly off-center, but nothing too noticeable or bothering. The chain then broke away from the gem and began tightening itself around the clay sculpture’s neck, forming a collar. It was nothing fancy, not like the diamond or sapphire golems she had seen others have. There was no need to brag about acquiring such materialistic things. As long as the golem could keep her company and help with minor tasks, that was all she asked.

Leaning her head against the gem, the younger girl listened closely for a heartbeat. It was obviously artificial, but it was faint. However, it was the closest she had gotten to acquiring a golem of her own, a rite of passage for some, depending on whom they descended from. Continuing to sculpt the facial features of the being, she took comfort in the way the face came along.

It was far what it would look like when it grew, but as a supposed newborn, it was perfectly fine. Nature would take its course in shaping its inevitable form. She could only hope that it didn’t frighten her. As clumsy as she was, if the golem ended up terrifyingly eerie, she would have tripped over her own feet at the sight of it, and that wasn’t very well what she wanted. Not in the slightest.

It took seven days to completely carve the being to her liking and another two for it to dry. At that point, she rushed out of her cottage and stared at the small cracks forming in the clay. Her eyes shimmered as it broke apart, the clay shattering on impact once it touched the ground. It left a small child-like being in its way, the sight of it exactly what she had imagined. Across his chest were inscriptions to help him with simple magic. Nothing too much, just a bit of levitation and wards.

She took the small thing in her arms, nuzzling it gently. By that time tomorrow, he would have been somewhat of a toddler. While able to perform simple tasks, he would still be short, but she couldn’t help but adore him instantly. He was not at all warm, his tanned skin cold to the touch as rock tended to be and his heartbeat was that of pulsing magic made artificially. The small thing wasn’t even classified as being alive, simply an imbuement of magic that she had created. And yet she loved it all the same.

“What is my name?” a voice rang, one that spoke telepathically to the young witch.

“Lacri. Your name is Lacri.”

The inscriptions on the small golem’s chest glowed a light blue color, some of the enchantments shifting to form a seal. The child then closed its eyes, fading into a sleep to put its energy into growing. Most left theirs to grow while they tended to more important matters, but even if she wanted to, she couldn’t tear herself away from him. He was precious to her, more so than she imagined he would be.

. . .

(Y/n) had slept with the small thing while it grew, and when her eyes woke up as light flooded the cozy room, he was three times his size. It was only expected, especially as golems did most of their growing on the first day of their creation, but it was touching all the same. When she moved to stretch her arms behind her back, the being’s eyes opened, revealing a limestone color surrounding his pupils. Although his brown hair needed quite the trim, he was growing out of being a chuberic child and into a handsome boy.

“Good morning,” he hummed, his voice and facial features resembling emotionless or even showing a lack of life.

It certainly wasn’t what the young witch had thought she would have created, but more often than not, golems were simply puppets. Nonetheless, when she had been wanting company for so long, it almost made her feel lonelier than before. Humming, she kneeled down to the toddler-like male, rubbing his sandy-colored hair affectionately before she was unable to resist a smile. Alive or not, he was what she had, and there was no need to be disappointed with something so cute.

“Good morning, Lacri,” she chuckled, watching as the small thing stared at her with no emotion, “Would you mind helping me out with breakfast?”

The golem nodded and stiffly moved his new limbs, almost uncomfortable with the action. While small, he was helpful nonetheless. In due time, he would be able to reach the plates from the overhead cabinets and cook as well, but at that time, it fell on the (h/c) haired girl to show him what to do. His eyes scanned over his actions with deep understanding, his mind rewiring itself to fit his master’s daily lifestyle and wants. It took but a moment of her dicing tomatoes for him to copy her exactly and perform it at a much faster speed.

It amazed her the amount that he could do despite it being his first day of truly existing. Sure, she had been carving him for what seemed like months, but at that point in time, he was just clay. The previous day was the first day he was able to open his eyes to the world that surrounded him since his existence was put into motion. Yes, he certainly was reliable, and it made her proud, allowing her to praise him for every little thing he did.

When breakfast had been completed, placed on the table, the male stood to the side with blank eyes, waiting for more instruction. Much like a doll, he ceased to move or have a purpose if (Y/n) wasn’t giving him something to do. And for some reason or another, differing from the thoughts of most of her peers, she figured that it should have been the other way around. Petting his head, she watched as he turned his head slightly to look at her, his need to obey any order whether said or unsaid taking over.

“Why don’t you eat with me, Lacri?”

. . .

Through numerous years, the sandy-haired golem had remained with his master. In fact, he came to relish her orders - though they were never so strict as to be called a demand. They were more like requests if anything. She valued his company and his help, viewing him as someone she could lean on, especially with her clumsy nature. Often, he put her to the side while he cleaned up both her wounds and whatever mess she made. While embarrassing for her, he never seemed to think it was a bad thing. It only let him help her with more and more.

And despite his literal stone heart, the male was nonetheless granted with great affection for the (h/c) haired girl. She always encouraged him to exhibit his own thoughts and opinions on certain things, even if it might have been offensive or rude. It was no wonder he was able to understand and feel emotions of his own, his mind rewiring itself to follow after (Y/n)’s wishes. Emotions were not always easy to deal with, often clashing with his duties, but he preferred it greatly to living without joy or love.

Occasionally a person would come through the area, be it some other magic user or a human. He would watch their state of mind, thinking deeply about what could have made them like that, his own heart yearning to understand more about the living. However, no matter how much he wanted to be like them and accept their ways, he was never able to accept harm. Many would stumble into the hut and beg for help, riddled with disease or bleeding out of their orifices, something he was not able to comprehend the first time it appeared to him nor any other time it was presented to him.

Perhaps it was a natural recoil or defense from the idea due to what the male was. Protecting (Y/n) was his sole purpose in life, and though he also strived to make her happy and healthy as well, to think she could bleed or be in pain made him flinch. Lacri had been told his job was to secure her safety, but he had many questions about what that meant, and he was the only one that could figure it out.

Violence didn’t seem to fade from the world, and he didn’t think it would vanish any time soon. From his time of sentience, he understood humans were very greedy and bloodthirsty creatures. Some even tried to kill his master for being a witch; something that was thought to be similar to a monster. Even if he was able to protect her, wars plagued the land. Battles were strewn out over the plains, the forest, even the mountains. There seemed to be no way to promise her safety, and he had become overly stressed.

Peeking into the (h/c) haired girl’s room, the golem gave a look of uncertainty, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. She looked so peaceful sleeping, hugging her pillow longingly. He didn’t have the ability to know what she was dreaming about. He just knew she was. She was so blissfully unaware of what the day had before her, her mind focused on nonsensical wonders of her own mind.

The male was unable to leave her side to bring her mental peace when her body could have been harmed. It simply went against everything he was made for. No matter how much pain she was emotionally, he couldn’t solve the issue for her. It wasn’t his place. There was something unfulfilling about that, enough to make him contemplate waking her up. Surely there was no harm in letting her have a few more moments of bliss?

Sitting down on the floor, he leaned his head against the bed’s side, letting himself smile just slightly. There was nothing more satisfying than being by her side. It made him feel the most alive he possibly could, and while he would never have flesh and a true heart, she had been more than loving to give him hers. Platonic though their love was, it was still affection, and he cherished her being enough to ignore that fact.

It wasn’t long before she stirred gently, her eyes fluttering open, met with the limestone color of his eyes. He stared at her for quite some time before she placed her hand on his cheek, the male closing his eyes for a moment with a sigh. It was temporary, but it provided as much warmth as he could feel at any one time. The equivalent to human sleep, he was provided energy by his master’s touch, allowing him to be filled with her magic.

“Breakfast is ready,” Lacri informed her, “I’ll go ahead and sort out your study now.”

(Y/n) smiled upon seeing his eagerness to start the day. Though he was hardly riddled with energy in the traditional sense, she could tell he was happy enough to give a crack of a smile. It was the most he could do with the emotions he possessed, but it didn’t go beyond her how his actions made up for his facial expressions. In fact, the way he helped her get out of bed let her know he was happy but slightly concerned.

She completely understood his uncertainty regarding the wars raging on. In fact, she knew more than he did about what was really going on. Whereas he hadn’t known how pain was inflicted, she had been on the battleground since she was a child, raised on it, in fact. However, she knew that he would pick up on her emotional state, and as such, she needed to hide any trace of fear in her.

Of course, the moment a soldier burst through her door, keeping that secret completely disappeared. Lacri stood at alert, placing himself protectively in front of the (h/c) haired girl. It was always nervewracking to be shown a potential threat to his master, but the occurrences only continued to escalate. He couldn’t fathom why it was that people continued to threaten her wellbeing.

“I guess we got another one,” the girl sighed, poking the male rolling over in agony, “Well, if anything, it’s good business.”

Lacri tensed the moment she instructed her to carry the unknown male inside. He couldn’t fathom why she wanted to bring more danger into their home. If she wanted him to protect her, why did she insist on making his job harder? The male thought such things continually, but as he stared down at the injured male, he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving to sate his curiosity.

“How does something like this happen?”

The (h/c) haired girl took a bottle from the utmost cabinet on her right and uncorked it, taking the barely blooming flowers out. She reacted slowly to the male’s question, attempting to figure out how to put it to him gently. As it was a delicate matter, she needed to be precise but not detailed, and truthful but still omit some parts. In the process of forming her words together, she ground together the herbs and constructed the healing potion for the wounded man.

“War makes pain and pain makes blood. People want land, money, anything really, and they take it from one another. Then something like this happens.”

The male was hardly content with what she had fed him, and while he would have typically taken her word for it, it seemed far too important to leave it at that. He didn’t watch her heal the man as he usually did, looking out the window with great curiosity instead. She clearly didn’t want to upset him, and he respected her decision as much as he could. That being said, he nonetheless longed for something a bit more detailed.

It seemed he was specific enough in his wishes, the very thought working against him as if a cruel being wanted to rip him of his peaceful life with his master. After the first wounded man, more and more came. It was like an invasion of bloodied bodies and mauled minds. (Y/n) continued as if it was normal, but Lacri was tense and frightened of the sight. Something out there was killing and wounding people severely, and that something may have come to harm her, of all people. Was he truly prepared?

Looking back at the young witch, he gave a fearful look, his features contorting into distress. It wasn’t often that he exhibited such fear, especially considering the lack of a soul he possessed. As such, the moment the (h/c) haired girl caught a glimpse of his expression, she immediately jumped to keep him in place. However, he moved too quickly and with such frantic energy that he escaped her grip.

He moved out of the hut, bursting down the door to stumble outside of the area he had perceived to be under threat. Despite his master’s orders to stop moving, he would only obey if she wasn’t in danger. He was able to ignore her wishes, moving to see what danger lurked behind the trees and the illusionary magic they hid behind. There were flaws in her technique, allowing him to see the seam in which to move through. However, the moment he exited the area, his eyes widened and he clenched his fists.

There was indeed a war occurring. It was his first time experiencing such utter hatred, the men before him tearing one another apart. They were incurring blood, covering the grassy ground in red liquid. He couldn’t stomach it. (Y/n) must have known where they were. She was a healer, using her magic to help the wounded. And even though she created him for the sole reason of protecting her, she didn’t tell him they were on the verge of an ongoing war.

“Lacri!” the witch panted, unused to exerting energy, “Please, come back. Ignore this!”

The male flinched, knowing he couldn’t acknowledge her orders. In any other case, he would have been forced to listen whether he liked it or not. Yet with the clear and imminent danger presented to him, he couldn’t back away from it whether he wanted to or not. His life’s purpose was right before him, (Y/n) was in danger, his heart racing with fear, and with it all, his legs began pushing him forward.

His eyes flared red as he saw the bloodshed before him. To think that something so harmful was so close to the (h/c) haired girl filled him with heartwrenching energy. Without a thought to the harm he would inflict on a human being, he leaped into the battle. It was as if his heart was turned away from the peaceful entity he typically was, violence and bloodthirst overcoming him, all for his master’s sake.

The first person he killed brought him a sickening nausea. His hand moved through the soft flesh with ease as if it were a knife through butter. Red coated his otherwise spotless tanned stone skin, and he felt the need to take his own life to atone for it. That being said, the stone in his heart prevented him from stopping the start of his own massacre. (Y/n) needed to be safe, and the moment he had seen the bloodshed surrounding her, there was no going back.

The second person was just the slightest bit easier to take care of. The kill itself was easy, but the lingering effects on the sandy-haired male’s mind were far from it. He felt great sadness at hurting another being, and the fact he knew it wouldn’t be the last he ended only amplified his despair. His body wouldn’t stop cutting people down where they stood, his responses becoming more guilt-ridden, but more efficient as well.

People fell and fell, focusing the brunt of their attack on the obvious magical being that threatened both sides of the war. However, no matter how hard they attempted to hit him, he didn’t feel a lick of pain. In fact, it felt satisfying to him to have something take its rage out on him. After the countless people he massacred - whether they were in the wrong or not - it didn’t sit well with him.

He could only faintly hear (Y/n) screaming at him to stop his attack, but he couldn’t do it. If not for what he was, then for his strong feelings for her. He wouldn’t leave her in a position where she was without him and surrounded by the violence mankind could exhibit. Lacri cared deeply for her. Even if she only viewed him as a companion, he loved her as something more, something deeper, and to protect her was the most he could do for her. As such, somewhere along the line, his regrets over killing slowly morphed into satisfaction and pride.

Each person he struck down was another he had taken off of her plate, and every drop of blood on the ground paved the way to a safer future for her. His expression was still without an ounce of emotion, but his make-shift heart was filled with it. The drops of blood served to corrupt him, easily turning him away from guilt over hurting others to an uncontrollable thirst for it.

He was able to take down the entire battlefield, only a small number of soldiers on either side remaining, trembling in fear. However, at that point, the ground shook with tremors. The (h/c) haired witch wasn’t the best at magic, but she certainly knew how to get his attention. He turned briefly to catch a glimpse of her and yet, the thought of any lingering soldiers coming back to strike her down motivated him deeply to ignore her.

The sandy-haired male picked up one of the men, squeezing his throat tighter and tighter. If (Y/n) hadn’t placed a ward on him, he would have died like the others, his blood coating the already soaked ground and feeding the next growing forest. With a twitch in his eyebrow, Lacri dropped the man and turned to look over at the girl he was trying with all of his might to protect, his entire being raging at her interference. She could have been hurt or killed, perhaps worse.

“Lacri, stop,” she demanded, her forceful words prompting fear and confusion in the male.

“I’m doing my job. They threatened your safety and I am dealing with them as a golem should. Isn’t this why you created me?”

The young witch gave a conflicted expression, her eyes darting to the ground. She reached out and held onto the male’s hand. It was cold and soaked in blood, but it was still his. The same dark color reminiscent of clay, the same large size, the same reaction of clinging onto her, it was still him. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that his natural thoughts to protect her were wrong.

If anything, it must have been her fault when she created him. She had made his heart too potent, and in doing so, caused him to be many times more violent. It was only a relief he didn’t turn against her or bathe in her blood for freedom. Some turned out that way, but it didn’t make it right. She was responsible for everything he had done. As an extension of her, she needed to control his actions and teach him right from wrong. And in the event she couldn’t do that...he needed to be disposed of.

“Not to hurt people,” she sighed, “Not to kill them, especially when I told you not to. Things like this happen all the time. Removing them from the picture isn’t ethical. It’s not right.”

“As far as I’m concerned, everyone else can just up and die!” the male growled, a sudden upset in emotion prompting the younger girl to step back in fear, “They threatened us - you! All of you! What was I supposed to do?! You made me to protect you! I am!”

“I...I’m sorry. I should have never done that when I wasn’t prepared to face the consequences. I need to undo this...I-It won’t hurt, I promise.”

The sandy-haired male’s eyes widened, his body shaking in fear. She was going to get rid of him. Why? He was only doing what was right. He did what she wanted him to. He protected her. Why did she want to kill him? Lacri loved her, adored her, cherished her. He knew she felt the same, so how come all of a sudden she hated him?

He flinched as she tried to touch his central gem; the very thing that kept him alive. She was the one who created it, and try as he might, but she had full access to destroying it. He wept as she held it in her hands, watching the faint pulsing of her magic energy lingering within it. The male felt his limbs go numb, and immediately, he fell to the ground, unable to move a thing, his eyes becoming dull.

“P...lea...se,” he begged.

(Y/n) wept as she placed a kiss on his forehead, coming to terms that her best friend would soon be gone. As she whispered in his ear her last words of affection, he finally felt fulfilled, but the moment after, the gem was infused back into her. The last thing he saw was their hearts becoming one, his energy becoming hers once more. And it was all he wanted. Fading back into the earth, he rejoined her in the power that flowed through her.

Such pitiful creatures golems are, always eager to jump to their master's side, else destroyed for said eagerness. Then again, they weren't the smartest of creatures to avoid such a fate.

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