Yandere Toons x Reader: An Anthology of Headcanons and Scenarios

Lord Shen (Platonic Scenario - "Fallen Leaves")

As metallic clanks descended on the wood stairs that creaked beneath the force of Shen's steps, the commander turned with a twitch of his ear. The peacock strode past him without offering a direct look, merely a tilt of his head. "Gather your best men," he ordered in a calm tone that courted secrecy and discretion. "When the city sleeps, meet me at its border."

* * *

Before the wolf could crack the stone against the side of your head, a metallic feather soared out of the darkness and impaled the centre of his back. The stone rolled from his grasp and tumbled across the ground, his mouth agape and countenance frozen in a look of shock. His hand continued to hover in a raised position as if his body were unable to acknowledge the attack.

Legs gradually dragging him forward until they pulled his torso towards the ground, the wolf collapsed on top of you. An agonized grumble was his sole expression of pain, and the stink of an unclean dog punctured your nostrils.

A smooth voice sharpened by irritation and disappointment broke the fragile lull in the raid. "'Petty thievery'. Oh, Father, your naivety is pitiable." The sheen of white plumage gleamed in the outskirts of the light's breadth, and a pair of red eyes emerged from the darkness shrouding the dirt path to the city.

Before the rogues could threaten this interloper, a trio of wolves clad in red and black shoulder guards lurked beside him. A whoosh followed the display of a large, crescent-shaped tail that sported a wall of red and black, eye-like shapes. Mouths opening and ears deflating, every rogue with the ability to move retreated a few steps.

"Prince Shen?" exclaimed the rogue nearest to the paralyzed one. He tucked his bushy tail between his legs when the commander delivered a snarl that scorned him for his misuse of the royal service. Shen opened his hand in the direction of the wolf who had addressed him, and the commander lunged forward on all fours. As he tackled the rogue and slammed his head into the grass, the two bodyguards pounced on a pair of wolves moving to intervene.

The commander's robust paw and claws squeezed the rogue's face, gales of pungent breath that stunk of raw meat and roadkill enveloping his nose. A cacophony of whimpers, barks and growls pervaded the night as three rogues fought their captors, while the remaining four began to flee. Swells of dirt wafted into the air like frozen waves.

Shen pursued the wolves in a serpentine manner, and with a swing of his arm, a volley of feathers that resembled sleek daggers brought two of them to the ground. The final duo scrambled to retreat into the shadows, expelling yelps when a glint of steel emerged from the peacock's robe. He dragged the blade across a rogue from his upper back to his abdomen in a motion so graceful it seemed to imitate a ballerina twirling on the stage.

For the last wolf, Shen leapt and hovered above him with an outstretch of his tail -- briefly obscuring the light of the moon -- before tucking it and using the force of his descent to propel the sword through the canine's heart. The breastplate that had sworn to protect his life shattered like glass, and for a sweet moment that passed no faster than a blink in Shen's eyes, the night had achieved peace once more.

"What should we do with these?" Teeth clenched and body unsteady from the belligerent rogue underneath, the commander grunted the question at his prince.

Face speckled with blood, Shen turned slowly as if reassessing the situation. In a voice no higher than a grim whisper, he commanded, "Dispose of them." The commander's ears lowered in an expression of surprise, and the bodyguards, smelling a twinge of uncertainty, looked to him for confirmation.