~Smitten: Yandere! Dream SMP x Reader one shots~

--𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎? (𝙿𝚝. 𝟸)--

Merry Christmas, losers.

JKjkjkjkjkjkjkjkjkjkjkjk, it's good to be back. I really needed to break. Now I'm back and present to you a 10,400 word oneshot! Enjoy! :D

TW: Major character death, mental manipulation, cultish behavior, implied cannablisim, gore

~BBH's POV~

I watched as the frantic maids around me tugged and pulled at my limbs, trying to get some last-minute measurements for my black suit for the red banquet. It really wasn't anything special; a Cervelat black suit with white, pearl buttons. The only pop of color was the crimson tie that was snugly fitted around my neck.

"?siht htiw yawa teg stnavres yzal eseht tel ot gniog uoy erA .snottub eht no hctits lufwa taht ta kooL," The familiar whisper of the egg chimed, directing my attention to the older woman fixing the tail of my suit.

'I suppose I could be a little neater,' I though, eyeing the top button. A hair-thin silver strand of thread loosely curled out of one of the buttonholes.

A sharp poke in my heel interrupted my thought, making me wince in sudden pain.

"My apologies, y-your majesty," one of the seamstresses—maybe no older than fourteen—stuttered. She continued with her careful stitching around the bottom of my black pant leg, while the older woman ordered her blonde assistant to fetch some gauze and a Band-Aid for my minor wound. She then gave the young apprentice minor chastisement before going back to her tailoring.

".sloof eseht no ysae oot er'uoY !luferac eb ot uoy rof tcepser hguone evah t'nod yehT," the Egg continued, making the doubts come back.

'The girl should had been more careful,' I thought, carefully watching the blonde girl come back in and kneel by the shaking young girl. She pressed a small gauze pad to my barely-bleeding heel, then tenderly pressed a small Band-Aid to the stinging flesh.

"?uoy revo lla klaw yeht woh ees uoy t'noD .erac dna tcepser fo kcal rieht rof pu meht kcoL .daB ecnirP ,siht etarelot ot evah t'nod uoY," the Egg mentioned again, pushing me to punish the working women.

'I don't want to,' I thought, against the idea of locking up my best seamstresses.

Then the mental tournament started. Images of the Badlands ablaze and under heavy attack flashed before me. The soul cause being my own subjects, who held torches and weapons such as clubs and machetes. I audibly whimpered, causing all three ladies to look at me in concern. My red veins were bulging, wrapping like vines around my body till I had no control.

The roaring, enraged wail of the Egg asked, "!kaew siht era uoy fi nwod nrot eb lliw eripme sihT ?tnaw uoy tahw siht sI"

Terrified of anything happening to the Eggpire, I slammed the working girl next to me to the cold ground, knocking the wind out of her. "Wrong!" I screamed, letting the rage of the Egg take over me. "Do any of you even know how to sew? All I see are mistakes!"

The team of women shrank back, clutching their needles and mesuring tapes. I stepped over the collapsed girl and grabbed a rose-filled flower vase sitting on the vanity. With a cry, I threw it at the huddled seamstresses. They all dodged and bolted to the exit, not wanting to be a victim like their friend was.

The guilt was tearing me up, but the Egg only scoffed at my horrified state and seized my limbs. Every day it seemed harder to fight back.

I took a look at myself in the mirror. My nub-like horns barely stuck out of my neatly-combed brown hair. I touched the corner of my left eye, taken aback at how red they looked. When did I become so...Eggified?