floatyflowers

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Poseidon x Percy Jackson's Mother! Reader

For: @jeo20-ir

The Montauk air smelled like salt mixed with the thick feeling of horrible tension, as you stood on the porch of the beach cabin, arms wrapped tight around yourself, staring at the restless waves.

Inside, Percy was, preparing for his promised boat trip with you.

He had done it, your boy, your brave, sweet boy, had faced gods and monsters and come out on top.

And he saved you from Hades.

But even as pride filled your chest, there was a heavy feeling of worry.

It had been there ever since Percy's father had stepped back into the picture.

Poseidon.

You thought you had buried the memories of those stolen summer nights, when Poseidon had been just a man to you.

He had laughed, loved, and promised more than he could give.

And....

...then he vanished, leaving you with a warning about monsters, a promise to watch over Percy, and nothing else.

Or maybe something else, like the fact that he killed your friends and your ex-boyfriend.

That's why when he tried to contact you through Percy several times after Percy returned from Camp, you avoided him.

"I'm ready, let's go, mom."

You look at your son as he walks up behind you.

Despite Percy looking like Poseidon, his personality is nothing like the deity of the sea.

And you are thankful for that.

🌊🌊🌊

The boat rocked sharply, the waves suddenly restless and unpredictable, as if the ocean itself was throwing a tantrum.

You clung to the railing, your knuckles white as Percy shouted something over the roaring wind. He had insisted on this trip, a simple mother-son outing on the water to celebrate his latest victory.

You had agreed, wanting to share in his joy, but now your stomach churned with unease.

The sea wasn't angry, It felt like it was watching and waiting.

Another violent lurch sent you sprawling.

Percy's cry of alarm barely registered before the next wave struck, dragging you over the side.

"MOM!"

Cold water swallowed you whole, its icy fingers pulling you deeper and deeper.

Panic clawed at your chest as you kicked and struggled, but the currents felt alive, like they had one purpose.

And then, just as suddenly, the water stilled.

You opened your eyes, and there he was, Poseidon.

He stood like the ocean had shaped itself into a man just for him.

His eyes glowed an impossible shade of green, his expression unreadable.

"I knew you’d come back to me," he said, his voice carrying humor.

"Come back to you?" you snapped, despite the ache in your lungs.

"I fell overboard because of your tantrum!"

You don't know how you are breathing underwater and speaking, but here you are getting angry at your ex-husband.

He stepped closer, the water parting effortlessly around him.

"I had to get your attention, you have been avoiding me for too long, " His hands touching your cheeks.

Before moving down, and grabbing your arms.

"You still look as young and beautiful as you have always been."

You wanted to pull away, to remind yourself of the heartache he had left in you.

But his grip on you is tight, making it painful and almost impossible to escape him.

Before you could retort, a shadow cut through the water above you. Percy.

Your heart leapt, your son had come to you.

But as he swam closer, his eyes locked onto Poseidon, yet instead of the anger or confusion you expected, Percy's face softened.

He nodded once, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, as if this was exactly what he’d hoped for.

Then, with a quick wave and a mischievous glint in his eyes, Percy turned and kicked back toward the surface, leaving you alone with Poseidon.

"Seems our son approves."

Your face twists, knowing very well that Percy misunderstood the situation.

"I don't approve."

His grin didn't leave his face, the water around you pulsing, and insistent on making you stay.

"Come now," he murmured, tilting his head.

"You have read enough of my ancient stories to know I never take no for an answer."

[floatyflowers]

Things Platonic Yandere Fathers! JJK characters would say to you (Gojo Satoru/Sukuna/Nanami)

Gojo Satoru

"You're the only reason I haven't burned this world to ash, kiddo. So why would you ever want to leave my side?"

"They hurt you? Tell me their names. No one lays a finger on my child and walks away smiling."

"I'm the strongest, remember? Which means I get to choose what’s best for you. Even if you hate me for it."

"You don’t need friends. You have me. I'm fun, hilarious, powerful, what more could you want?"

Ryomen Sukuna (reincarnated reader)

"Tch. You think I would let you go through this life without me watching over you? You were mine long before you were even born again."

"You can try to run, brat, but not even death can keep me from you. I have killed for less than someone breathing near you."

"You carry my blood, no one else deserves to touch you. They so much as look wrong at you, and I’ll carve their eyes out."

"You're not weak like them. You're mine. I made you strong. You will not dishonor that by defying me."

Kento Nanami

"This world is far too cruel. I won’t allow it to steal your light. If that means I must dirty my hands… then so be it."

"You're a child, and children shouldn't bear burdens. Leave everything to me...even your choices."

"When I say it's dangerous, it is. Trust me. I don't say these things to scare you, only to keep you safe."

"I didnt sacrifice everything for you to grow up and throw yourself into harm's way. Stay close. That’s an order."

[floatyflowers]

"Sorry to bother you, my friend I truly don’t mean to be a nuisance. If it's possible, could you please write a dark story about Sauron x female Celebrimbor (Tolkien), including mind control? I’d really appreciate it. I hope you always stay happy! 💖🕊️🤝

Disclaimer don't own that picture, it belongs to their rightful owner.

You woke choking on the scene of starlight.

Not the stars of the world you had known, your modern life, long gone, but the endless shimmer of Valinor’s sky, fading into memory as your soul settled into something new. Something old.

You remembered the heat of a forge, the pride of creation, and a name that was not your own:

Celebrimbor.

No, Telperinquar, son of Curufin, heir to Fëanor’s fire. But now, the body was different. Feminine. As if fate had rewritten the vessel.

You have regained Celebrimbor's memories, his last breath, betrayed, broken, the Rings twisted in his hands, and the smile of the abhorred one.

Annatar.

The beautiful stranger with yellow eyes and words like honey over steel.

The one who had instructed you, praised you, charmed you, until the moment he revealed what lay beneath: Sauron, servant of Morgoth. Deceiver. Destroyer.

But now, in this strange twist of time and flesh, you found yourself in Eregion, once more. Alive. And he… he was here too.

"Hail, Telperinquar, most radiant of smiths. Long have I heard tell of your craft, and it warms my heart to see such light in Middle-earth. Might I walk beside your forge? For there is much I would learn, and perhaps more still to offer."

You should have turned him away. Should have called him by his true name and cast him from your realm.

But the forge still called, and his voice still sang to that part of you that falsely remembered what it was to create together, and to trust him.

It was late. The forge had quieted, and the stars above Ost-in-Edhil burned silver in the deep sky.

You stood alone in the workshop, the warmth of the fire still clinging to your skin, though your hands were still.

You sensed him before he spoke.

"You work late, my lady,"

You did not turn.

"Creation does not follow the sun."

He stepped closer. You heard no footfall, yet felt his presence like a chilling wind.

"Of all those I have known," he mused, his gaze keen,

"There is a cast to your spirit unlike the common mould. Indeed, you are set apart."

You laugh in your head at his words which are the equivalent of the cheesy pickup line 'You are different'

At that, you turned, slowly. His face was fair, too fair, and calm.

But his eyes held something now. A question, a flicker of sultry glint.

He reached out, fingers brushing the edge of your right shoulder, not with touch, but with will.

"Trust me."

You felt it slide along your mind, seeking a door, a weakness.

"Yield. You are weary. Let me guide you. Let me take the burden."

Knowing that he is mind controling you, and if you let him, you will be a toy, you decided to ruin his plans.

“Do you ever grow tired of wearing masks, Sauron?”

The silence that followed was not empty it was sharp. As The air between you became tense.

His smile did not falter at once, but something behind his gaze cracked.

"That name,” he said at last, too softly, "is not spoken lightly."

"Would you then prefer I call you Mairon?"

"You have known all along?"

Shrugging at him, you playfully hold the Túrann hammer Sauron has gifted you.

"It seems like you mistook my kindness for naivety."

You gently place the head of the hammer against his chest.

"Tell me, Mairon, what do you have to offer the granddaughter of Fëanor, to continue crafting the rings for you?"

He looked down at the hammer, then back at you, a slow smile spreading across his face, not of malice, but of something akin to admiration. "Everything."

His hand came up, not to push the hammer away, but to rest over yours on the handle.

His touch was warm, almost burning, and a faint hum vibrated through the metal.

"I offer you not just partnership. I offer you a throne. My queen. We could forge a new Middle-earth, one unbound by the old ways, a realm of order and power such as none have ever seen."

He stepped closer, his golden eyes locking onto yours.

"Imagine it, the two of us. Your craft, my vision. We could command the very stars, bend the earth to our will. No more petty squabbles of elves, no more fading glory. Only endless dominion. Together."

As if sensing your uncertainty, his hand moved behind you, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the ring you had been crafting. He lifted it, the newly forged band gleaming in the firelight.

With a gentle pull, he drew you closer, your body pressed against his chest.

The heat of his body was intoxicating. He held the ring up between you, a symbol of the power he offered.

"You shall be my precious,"

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Tarzan X Single Mother Reader

The storm was unexpected.

Waves slammed against the fractured hull of the ship as the night sky shattered with lightning. Your baby wailed against your chest, wrapped in whatever blankets you’d managed to grab before chaos took the crew.

The sound of splintering wood, screaming sailors, and crashing waves mixed into a cacophony of despair.

Then, a plunge into freezing black water.

You didn’t remember how you survived. Only the pull of maternal instinct, your baby's crying voice a lifeline in the storm.

You washed ashore on an unknown jungle coast, battered, trembling, and alone with your son.

Except... you weren't.

The baby cried, but it meant he was breathing.

That was all that mattered. You kissed their damp head and whispered promises you didn’t know how to keep.

"We will be okay. I will protect you."

You built a crude shelter from palm fronds and branches. Days blurred into one another searching for water, for food, trying to quiet your child's hunger. Your body ached. Your mind is tired.

But you weren't alone.

At first, you noticed footprints near your camp, large, bare, and human.

Then came the food which were fruits placed in careful piles, bowls carved from bark filled with clean water, and once, a rabbit skinned and cleaned.

Something or someone was watching you.

You tried to stay calm. Maybe it was a local. A tribal man? Or someone else who had survived like you?

But then you saw him.

He emerged from the trees; the stranger was tall, wild-haired, shirtless, his skin bronzed by the sun. Muscles tensed beneath every movement, but he crouched low, green eyes pointed at you with eerie stillness.

Then he vanished, back into the trees.

You told yourself it was a hallucination.

Until the next morning, when he stood just beyond your camp's edge, holding your baby.

Your heart stopped. You rushed forward. Yet you realised that the baby wasn't crying.

In fact, he cooed, nestled calmly in the handsome man's massive arms.

"Safe," the man said simply, his voice low, rough, like language was unfamiliar to him.

He stepped forward, carefully handing the child to you. "Safe with me."

You backed away, clutching your baby. "Who are you? What do you want?"

His head tilted. He looked confused.

"You. Mate"

The word landed like a stone in your gut. You stared at him, horrified.

"I don’t know you!"

He blinked.

"I know you. Long time. Since sea came. I watched. You… strong. Protect cub." His gaze softened slightly. "Good mate."

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your blood ran cold.

From that day forward, he never left.

He followed at a distance, silently watching. Every night, he lingered near your shelter, unseen but felt.

When you gathered water, he would appear from the trees, walking alongside you as if you belonged to him.

He would pick fruit and place it in your basket, like a lover trying to please you.

And your baby? Adored him. Laughed when he appeared. Reached out for him.

That's why you finally decided to give him a chance to learn about him.

And from the information you managed to collect with hardship due to his lack of vocabulary.

You found out about his name, age, and how he grew up with animals like gorillas.

He also told you about how an english woman called Jane taught him the vocabulary before she left to return back home.

That made you warm up to him.

You taught him words, through gestures, repetition, soft correction.

And he mimicked you like a devoted student, eager to understand.

Tarzan was intelligent in a raw, primal way, his voice gradually shaping your language like it was his birthright.

Tarzan had found the remains of a treehouse, half-rotten but salvageable.

It was his parents’ long abandoned home, tangled in vines and broken wood. and he began repairing it.

For you. And your son.

You watched him every day, his muscles rippling as he lifted beams like they weighed nothing, his hands bloodied from work, but never complaining.

He carved handrails so you wouldn’t fall. Laid moss and furs across the floor so your baby had somewhere soft to crawl.

"I fixed it for you, and our son" he said one day, gesturing proudly. "Our home."

You touched the wall. It smelled of cedar and sun, warm, clean, and strong.

Just like him.

And you began to fall for him.

Because out here, in the wild, he was everything for you, food, shelter, and safety.

When you cried, he held you, when your child was sick, he sat awake through the night, bathing them in cool river water and humming low, wordless lullabies.

He didn't ask to sleep beside you, but one night, when the wind howled and your baby curled up between you, you didn't send him away.

You almost forgot the life you had before. The pain. The betrayal.

Until he came back.

Your ex-husband.

It was early morning when you heard the shouts, male, unfamiliar, human. Tarzan stilled like a hunting cat.

His green eyes narrowed at the intruder.

You rushed down the ladder of the treehouse, heart pounding, baby strapped to your back. And there he was.

Soaked. Sunburned. Bruised, but unmistakably him.

"Y/N?" he gasped. "Is it really you?"

You froze as he ran toward you, grabbing your arms.

"God, I thought you were dead! I came back, hired a search crew. The boat is nearby, it’s not too far down the coast. We can leave! We can-"

"Stop," you whispered.

He blinked, confused. "What?"

And then Tarzan stepped out of the trees.

Your ex froze, taking in the Tarzan appearance with wild eyes and an unreadable expression.

"What in the world is this?"

Tarzan moved beside you, putting a hand over your shoulder in a protective manner.

You didn’t speak as your former glared.

"You living with this freak now? Did you lose your mind out here?! He is dangerous, he is a savage!"

You felt your baby stir at the rising voices. You rocked him gently, trying to stay calm.

Tarzan’s breathing had grown shallow. Slow. Eyes locked on the intruder like a predator sizing up prey.

"Go," Tarzan said, voice flat.

When you opened up to Tarzan about the abuse you endured and how you fled on that ship to escape your ex-husband, it broke his heart, and left no doubt in his mind who the real villain was.

Your ex turned, glaring at Tarzan.

"Excuse me?"

"Go back to the tree house and protect our son.”

"She is my wife. That is my son!”

Tarzan tilted his head slowly.

"No."

The man tries to walk past Tarzan to get to you, but he doesn't get the chance to do so as Tarzan stabs him in the chest with his spear, killing him instantly.

A silent gasp escapes your lips, as you hide your son's face in your embrace.

The way Tarzan turns around to face you with a small smile as if he hasn't committed a murder in front of you is shocking.

But his proposal was something else.

"Can I be your husband now?"

[floatyflowers]

Can we have a part two of husband Anubis please🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

<<< Part One

You have not spoken with him for a long time, maybe a month, not because you were avoiding him, but because he has been busy.

What surprised you is that Anubis has given you permission to go out, breaking all the shackles he put on your freedom.

Yet, it made you wonder, has your possessive husband finally got bored of you? Did he abandon you?

It made you feel...sad.

However, another person enters your life, he has soft gentle brown eyes, brown curly hair, and tan skin.

You met him at the market, he introduced himself as Aken

You hadn't expected the quiet warmth of Aken's presence to soothe your restless soul.

It began with small conversations. He helped carry your basket when it was heavy with fruit and grain.

He never pressed for personal details, but he listened, truly listened, as if your every word held divine importance.

He wasn't like Anubis, whose presence was frightening, whose love smothered as much as it protected.

Aken, in contrast, felt like sunlight after a long storm.

Still, a large part of you remained tethered to your husband, Anubis, though sometimes you couldn’t tell the difference.

His absence dug a hole in your chest. You had always known his love was obsessive, but it had also been all-consuming. You couldn’t deny that part of you missed him.

And yet… had he not he abandoned you?

You found yourself in the market square again, and like always, Aken was there.

"Your eyes look heavy today," he said softly, offering you a ripe fig. "Did you not sleep well?"

You hesitated, but ended up speaking about your worries.

"It's… hard. I keep thinking about someone. Someone who was everything to me, even if he didn’t always treat me well."

Aken tilted his head, curiosity lighting in those soft brown eyes. "Do you still love him?"

"I don’t know," you whispered.

"Maybe I do. Maybe I just miss being wanted."

He stared at you for a long moment, and then, softly, gently, he placed his hand over yours.

"Then why have you not given yourself to someone else? Why not me?"

Your heart stuttered. You pulled your hand back gently, voice shaking.

"Because even if he hurt me, even if he's gone, I am his. I made a vow."

Silence stretched between you.

And then everything shifted.

The scent of sand and fragrant oils filled the air.

A gust of wind swept through the marketplace, but no one reacted. Everything was frozen, the merchants mid-motion, the laughter of children paused.

Aken’s form shimmered.

The brown curls darkened, straightened. His tan skin took on a cool obsidian hue, and his eyes, once warm and soft, became pools of molten gold.

A jackal-headed crown formed above his brow, and before you stood Anubis, in all his terrible, divine glory.

"I never left," he said, his voice deep and resonant, laced with disappointment and awe.

"I watched. I tested. I wanted to see, if your heart would remain loyal in my absence."

You stared at him, trembling, realization crashing down like the Nile in flood.

"You lied to me…" you breathed.

"I had to," he said, stepping closer, golden adornments glittering.

"You are my heart. But even I feared you might have changed. That my absence would let another take root in your soul."

He cupped your face, reverently, his thumbs brushing tears you hadn't realized you shed.

"But you were true. You denied temptation. You remembered me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore." you confessed.

He growled low in his throat, an angry, desperate sound.

"Never. You are mine. You will always be mine. And now I will never leave you again."

The world around you pulsed back into motion, but you didn’t notice. All you could feel was the overwhelming presence of Anubis.

And deep in your chest, your heart whispered one truth.

You had passed his test.

However, your test made you realise how much you adore his attention and love even if it's unhealthy.

And you don't care anymore if it costs you, your freedom.

[floatyflowers]

Be the Character|| Masterlist.

Ever wondered what it would be like to be reborn as a character in your favourite show.

1- Yandere Platonic/Romantic Various X Naruto Reincarnated Female! Reader

2-

3-

4-

5-

[floatyflowers]

Yandere Platonic/Romantic Various X Naruto Reincarnated Female! Reader, Part One.

Reincarnated into the body of Naruto Uzumaki, but now female. You thought you knew the story. You had the knowledge of a fan, the memories of the anime, and the will to survive the cruel world of shinobi. What you didn’t expect was how the story would twist around you. The characters you once admired? Now they look at you with possessive eyes whether it's Romantic or Platonic.

You had prepared for a life of isolation in a tiny apartment, eating expired cup ramen, dodging glares from villagers.

But the timeline cracked the moment Mikoto Uchiha pulled you into her arms in the Hokage’s office and refused to let go.

"I won’t allow another child to suffer when I can give them a home," she said, her tone firm but her touch gentle.

Fugaku's eyes had been sharp, suspicious. He looked at you not just as an outsider, but as a threat. And you knew why. He feared what you housed in your body. Kurama. The Nine-Tails fox.

But then you clutched the hem of his cloak, with a big smile, letting out baby squeals of happiness.

You felt his chakra shift. His composure faltered. Mikoto smiled knowingly.

From that day on, Fugaku treated you like a daughter.

Itachi was the first to truly see you.

He watched you during dinner. The way you’d laugh and play with Sasuke, and the way you would interact with him.

Children your age don't go on saying fall sentences once they teeth, nor do they write in a perfect way.

"You don’t need to act around me," he whispered one evening when he found you curled up on the veranda, your eyes reflecting the moonlight.

You turned to him. "...I don’t know how else to survive."

He looked at you for a long moment before pulling you into his arms. "Then I will protect you. From them. From everyone."

From that moment on, Itachi's gentle exterior became something far more intense. He brought you dango after missions, trained with you longer than necessary, and held your hand a little too tightly when other boys looked your way.

He called it brotherly love. But it wasn't.

Sasuke masked his possessiveness as rivalry and jealousy.

He pretended he was jealous of Itachi spending time with you and tried to always attract his brother's attention by making the older boy train him.

And when you asked Itachi to train you too, Sasuke would intervene.

"You should have Okaa-san train you instead, because you lack in cooking and cleaning."

It wasn’t long before Sasuke started to show his possessiveness.

At first, he was your shadow. Always following you around. Always watching.

You noticed the change when you sparred with another boy in class and he bled your lip.

Sasuke didn’t speak that entire day. But the boy mysteriously broke his arm that evening.

You knew it was Sasuke.

And you knew if you called him out, he’d only smile that innocent Uchiha smile and say,

“I was just training with him."

Fugaku sought to suppress your Uzumaki heritage by having Mikoto dress you in the Uchiha clan's colors, replacing the Uzumaki crest with their own. Even your hair was styled in the traditional fashion of Uchiha women, further erasing any visible ties to your true lineage.

The night of the massacre came far sooner than you expected.

You knew it was inevitable, this world, this story, always carved in blood.

But you hadn’t expected the ache. The sense of wrongness that came with the silence that night.

The compound was too still. No candles in the windows. No echo of Sasuke’s footsteps. Just the wind, and the faint scent of iron.

You stepped outside barefoot, the gravel cold beneath your feet. That’s when you saw Mikoto and Fugaku in their own blood.

And then you heard footsteps.

Slow. Calm. Familiar.

Itachi.

“You weren’t supposed to see this.”

He stood in the hallway, his ANBU mask discarded at his side. His eyes burned red.

Blood was splattered across his uniform. Across his hands.

"W-Why?" your voice cracked, your body trembling. "Why did you-?"

"I told you,” he said softly. "If they ever tried to take you from me, I would stop them."

You didn’t understand.

He walked toward you, kneeling before you slowly like you might shatter. His fingers wiped Mikoto’s blood from your cheek with careful tenderness.

"They were planning to use you. To harness the Nine-Tails again. I couldn’t let them turn you into a weapon for their revolt."

With a cold stare, and voice, he says.

"Don't tell Sasuke the truth."

Those were the last words you heard from him before seeing Sasuke breakdown at the sight of his dead parents after returning home.

After Sasuke confronts Itachi, and the older brother lies to him before leaving, Sasuke turns for you to find comfort.

"I will kill him, [Name]. I’ll make him pay for what he did to our clan. To you."

You turned to face him and froze.

He wasn’t just angry.

He was burning.

And when he looked at you, it wasn’t as a teammate. Or a friend. Or even a brother.

It was someone who had chosen you.

"You were the only one he left alive," he whispered.

"The only one he spared. I know what he did to you even if you won’t say it."

You tried to explain that Itachi has done nothing to you in any manner, but Sasuke doesn't allow you to do so.

He stepped forward, gripping your hand.

"And together we will restore the Uchiha Clan."

[floatyflowers]

Yandere Male Snow Queen x Kai's mother reader❄️🥺

Character From: ᵀʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʷ ᵠᵘᵉᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴴᵃⁿˢ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗ���ᵃⁿ ᴬⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵉⁿ

There once lived a woman, you, in a small house at the edge of a bustling town, where the rosebushes climbed your window panes, and the seasons passed in gentle silence.

You were the mother of a boy named Kai, who was clever, brave, and full of mirth. But one winter, when the snow fell thicker than usual and the frost etched silver veins into every glass pane, Kai vanished without a trace.

They said he had died, lost to the snow, or perhaps stolen by wolves. But you knew better. A mother knows when her child still breathes.

And you were right.

Far in the north, in a palace made of mirrors and eternal winter, the Snow King sat upon his throne of ice.

Tall and beautiful he was, pale as the moonlight and cold as the heart of a blizzard. His eyes were like shards of crystal, and his hair fell in strands of glimmering frost. He had taken Kai not out of cruelty, but of longing.

Not for the boy.

But for the boy’s mother.

When at last she journeyed northward, braving the ice and howling winds, seeking her child through villages and valleys of snow, he welcomed her arrival with quiet ecstasy.

You found his palace at the end of the world, where no bird sang and no sun shone.

He came to you not as a monster, but as a man.

"Welcome, beloved mother of my chosen boy," he said, descending from his throne, his long cloak trailing frost across the floor.

"Where is my son?" You demanded, your heart beating harshly beneath your ribs.

"In the safest place he could ever be," he replied, gesturing to a chamber of light and snow, where Kai sat blank-eyed before a mirror, piecing together shards of a puzzle, trying to spell eternity.

"You have frozen his heart!" You cried.

The Snow King smiled, not cruelly, but tenderly, as if her fury delighted him.

"He is at peace. No pain. No fear. Only the stillness of perfect thought."

"But I am his mother."

"Then stay here with him, I will allow you to nurture him, but if you choose to leave, you leave without him."

The choice coiled around you like a serpent.

The Snow King was not a brute; he did not threaten with violence. No, his offer was far more dangerous.

He tempted you with the very thing you craved: your son’s safety. And beneath that, something darker, sweeter, the way his fingers lingered near yours, the way his eyes burned with something beyond ice.

"You would trap me?" you whispered.

He laughed softly.

"I would keep you. Cherish you. Let you rule this kingdom of silence at my side." His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lip.

"Is that so terrible?"

The cold had seeped into your bones, but his touch was different, not numbing, but awakening.

"Say yes," he urged, his breath a frost-kissed caress against your ear. "And I will give you everything."

The worst part?

You said yes.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Male Jasmine X Reader

          You had always avoided the palace walls. They loomed too tall, too guarded, and far too filled with people who held the kind of confidence you lacked.

You preferred the quiet corners of the marketplace or the hidden courtyard where the jasmine trees grew wild.

Also, you liked soft things like sunlight through leaves, the pages of old books, and silence broken only by wind or birdsong.

That’s where he found you.

Prince Jamil, heir to Agrabah. But not the one people whispered about with awe.

No, the real Jamil was far more dangerous than the charming man he pretended to be at royal banquets.

He found you in the garden, reading beneath a tree, too shy to meet his eyes.

"Why haven't you attended my father's banquet?"

You gulp, noticing the tiger by his side, but the prince doesn't seem to care as he sits beside you under the tree.

"I feel uncomfortable in huge crowds."

You explain, closing the book, then meeting the beautiful, sharp eyes of the prince.

"I have watched you," he admitted, brushing a petal from your hair.

"You never look at anyone else. You are pure, modest, and perfect."

Anyone would have taken those words as a compliment except for you.

The way he spoke those words is anything but flattering; his eyes want much more.

"I apologise, but I must return to my parents, if you will excuse me, your highness."

You try to get up, but the tiger's growling is more than enough to scare you.

Jamil takes your wrist, forcing you back down, but this time on his lap instead of the ground.

His right arm wraps softly around your shoulder, pulling you near. With tender fingers, he brushes the sensitive skin behind your ear, then gently tucks a fragrant white jasmine blossom into your hair.

"My father asked me to find a wife for myself, and I did."

"What if I refuse?"

Jamil gazed affectionately at Rajah, his loyal tiger companion, gently stroking the magnificent creature's head.

A cunning smile played on Jamil's lips as he confided in his beast.

"I have a strong feeling that you are going to accept my proposal," he murmured, his voice filled with anticipation. "Don't you think so too, Rajah? "

The message is clear.

Accept, and you live.

Refuse, and he will feed you to his tiger.

"I accept," you said quietly, the words tasting like poison on your tongue.

"There," he murmured, brushing his thumb along your cheek with unsettling gentleness.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

Jamil rose, still holding you as if you weighed nothing. He carried you easily and confidently.

"You told me you hate the crowd? Don't worry, you don't have to see or speak to people ever again, excluding me."

[floatyflowers]

Could we please have yandere mr darcy please? 😭🙏🏻

Everything about you is strange according to social norms, from the way you dress to the way you speak, it is like you are from another timeline.

And you are really from another timeline, and it's called 'the future'.

But one day, you suddenly woke up and found yourself in the Regency era, as one of the higher-class ladies.

You tried to adapt to the change as much as you could, but your sense of fashion and behaviour always seemed off, outputting and rude.

However, when Mr. Darcy saw you dressed in a curious yet becoming gown of shimmering blue, with its peculiarly puffed sleeves and cascading pearls, it possessed an ethereal allure.

It is suggested that you are a wearer of unique sensibilities and a beauty both striking and delightfully strange, sure to make a memorable impression.

That's why he asked you to dance at one of the balls.

And you proved to him that you cannot certainly dance.

And when he tried to instruct you, it didn't work, as you didn't know anything about the etiquette of dancing.

Especially when you asked him...

"Left… then right? Wait, was that my left or your left?"

Yet, despite your unorthodox movements, there was something oddly captivating about the way you held yourself, though you embarrassed yourself, yet owned that misplacement with pride.

Your head was high, your expression unwavering.

And when you finally stumbled into a turn that led to an accidental spin, you burst into laughter, rich, unapologetic, and completely sincere.

Yes, Mr. Darcy hates those types of barbaric actions, because according to everyone in the room except the Bennet sisters, those are the actions of people of the lower class.

He should not have noticed you so deeply, and yet he did.

It was not long before he extended an invitation for a private afternoon next week at Pemberley.

"I believe you may enjoy the gardens," he said, voice taut with restrained emotion. "There are orchids unlike any you have seen before."

Your eyes lit up, not at the flowers, but at the idea of exploring a new place. "If they are stranger than I am, I would be surprised," you teased.

He smiled slightly. "Nothing is stranger than you."

You tilted your head. "Is that a compliment, Mr. Darcy?"

"Indeed, it is."

At Pemberley, you wandered the halls, your fingers grazing ancient tapestries and your eyes marveling at the intricacies of things taken for granted by others.

Mr. Darcy watched, silent but never far, His heart grew more violent in its beat each time you laughed softly or tilted your head in wonder.

"You look at this place as though you have never seen its like before," he remarked quietly, once the others had drifted away and you stood alone in the sun-dappled gallery.

"That is because I have not," you murmured.

"I was not meant to be here."

"You are exactly where you are meant to be. With me," he said, stepping closer.

That afternoon, after having tea, the sun went down and shadows stretched long across the polished floors of Pemberley, by the reflection of the moonlight and candles,

A sudden chill overtook you. A shiver raced down your spine, and your knees, so confidently striding moments ago, gave a slight but unmistakable buckle.

Your whole body felt heavy, almost as if you were paralyzed.

Mr. Darcy caught your arm before you could sway again.

"You are unwell," he said, voice low but urgent. He touched your forehead with the back of his hand.

It was an intimate gesture from a man whose every move was usually measured and cautious according to society's standards.

You tried to laugh it off.

"Perhaps I simply feel tired as I didn't sleep well last night before coming here."

But then came the fever. That night, it wrapped itself around your skin.

Your breath quickened, your vision blurred, and the chill grew into an ache that clung to your bones.

Servants fluttered about in hushed tones, and Mr. Darcy stood at the edge of the room, arms behind his back, face unreadable.

"You cannot return home like this," he said decisively.

"It would be most irresponsible."

You wanted to protest, but even sitting up felt like moving through water.

And the tea they brought you, while soothing, made your tongue feel heavy, and lack thoughts

"Stay," he said again, this time softer. "Until you are well."

And so you stayed.

In the days that followed, your fever flared. Sometimes, when the haze in your mind cleared, you would find him seated at your bedside, a book in hand or watching the fire, always near, always composed.

You didn’t know then, of course, that the tea sweetened with crushed feverfew and valerian root had been suggested not by the housekeeper, but by Darcy himself.

He had someone get the right measurements to only make you sick, not kill you.

It gives the same symptoms of a deadly fever, but it won't kill you.

The fever had finally begun to loosen its grip, like fingers releasing your limbs after days of imprisonment.

You lay among silk pillows and lace linens, sweat-dampened and weary, but with clarity returning at last.

Only because Mr. Darcy stopped giving you the tea.

He had not spoken much in recent hours; he only sat near the window, deep in thought.

At last, he turned to you, walking towards your bed.

"There is something we must discuss," he said in a calculated voice.

"There are rumors," he said. "That you and I have... eloped."

Blinking, you are surprised, though not entirely.

You had known, somewhere in your modern mind, that a single woman falling ill and staying at a man's estate, especially his estate, would never go unnoticed in a society so dependent on perception.

"You and I? Eloped?" you repeated.

"It is rumoured that you arrived at Pemberley under a pretense, and that I-" he stopped, as though the words themselves were too indelicate to voice.

"-That I took you in under a motive less honorable than what was true."

A silence has befallen you.

Then Mr. Darcy declared with a steady voice.

"We must marry."

Your eyes grow big.

"Must?"

He took a step closer, sitting himself on the edge of your bed.

"Your name will not survive the rumours if we do not. Nor will mine, though I am of less concern to myself."

"And so this is a matter of honor," you state, trying to keep your tone light, though your throat felt tight.

"You don't have to take my responsibility, I shall return to my family and explain everything to them."

There is no way you are going to marry him, he is not from your timeline.

"Your family disowned you."

"They did?" you ask in disbelief.

Your family in this timeline is not as good as you thought.

"A letter arrived from your uncle. I was informed you would no longer be received in London, nor Hertfordshire."

You drew in a shaky breath, realising you had nowhere to live.

"So what happens now?"

Mr. Darcy rose slowly from the bed's edge, pacing toward the hearth.

"Now, you recover, then we marry."

Have been left with no choice, you agree.

"Very well, I will marry you."

[floatyflowers]

Hi, I just want to let you know that you've been called out by a certain @miyamiwu for spreading "To Be Hero X" AI chatbot links. They have a recent post with your username on it (it wasn't blurred).

Yeah I know, and she went on and blocked me 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 lol

Also, there is nothing wrong with AI chatbots as it allows readers to design whatever scenarios they want.

Probably you should say it to me instead of blocking me @miyamiwu

[floatyflowers]

Dark Male Maleficent X Aurora's Mother! Reader PART TWO

Requested by: Seven People

<<<Part One

The years passed blissfully within the enchanted Moors. Aurora grew under the watchful eyes of both you and Maleficent, her laughter ringing through the meadows as she played among the creatures of the fae realm.

The curse had long been lifted, and Maleficent had kept his word, Aurora was his daughter in every way but blood, and you, his queen, ruled beside him with love and respect.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of violet and gold, the air grew heavy with tension. As it whispered of an approaching force.  

Maleficent’s grip on his staff tightened, his emerald eyes narrowing. "Stefan."  

Your heart clenched. The name alone was a ghost of a past you’d buried.  

King Stefan's army amassed at the borders of the Moors, their banners fluttering in the wind. At their helm rode Stefan himself, clad in armor, his expression unreadable.  

"Return what is mine," his voice boomed across the field, "my wife and my daughter."  

Maleficent’s wings arose a silent challenge.

"You forfeited any claim to them the moment you deceived us both."  

You stepped forward, your voice steady despite the conflict you are feeling.

"Aurora is happy here. She is loved. Can you say the same about your relationship with her as a father, Stefan? Or were the throne and your pride always worth more than her?"  

"You are my wife!"

"The woman who was once your wife is now married to me, and Aurora is my daughter."

Stefan’s face twisted in fury, his grip tightening on his sword.

"You stole them from me!"  

Maleficent’s lips curled into a cold smirk. "No, Stefan. You drove them away. You abandoned them. I merely gave them what you never could, love and safety."  

Stefan’s sword glinted in the dying light as he took a threatening step forward. Maleficent didn’t flinch, but his voice dropped low, a command meant only for you.

"Go. Take Aurora inside."

You hesitated, your fingers brushing against his arm. "Maleficent-"

"Now." His tone left no room for argument.

Aurora reached for your hand, her eyes wide. "Mother…"

With one last glance at the man who had once been your husband, now a stranger clad in armor and rage, you pulled Aurora back toward the heart of the Moors, the enchanted trees closing protectively behind you.

---

The sounds of battle echoed through the night, steel against magic, shouts swallowed by the roar of the forest itself.

You sat with Aurora in the great hall of the fae palace, her head resting against your shoulder as you both waited, listening.

Hours passed.

Then silence.

The doors creaked open, and there he stood.

Maleficent.

His cloak was torn, his hands stained with blood, some his own, some not. His horns gleamed darkly under the torchlight, his breathing ragged. But his eyes, those emerald eyes, found yours instantly.

Without a word, he crossed the room and sank to his knees before you.

Then, with a shuddering exhale, he let his forehead rest against your lap, his body trembling with exhaustion.

Your fingers immediately carded through his hair, brushing away the dirt and sweat. Aurora, wide-eyed but unafraid, reached out to touch his shoulder.

"You’re hurt," you whispered.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound rough against your skirts. "Not as much as he is."

Aurora swallowed.

"Is he…?"

"Gone," Maleficent replies. "Banished. He won’t return."

However, you knew that 'Banished' means killed, Maleficent just doesn't want to frighten Aurora.

You bent over him, pressing your lips to the crown of his head. "Good."

For a long moment, the three of you stayed like that, a tangle of relief and lingering adrenaline, the warmth of the hearth chasing away the night’s chill.

Then Maleficent lifted his head just enough to meet your gaze, his voice raw.

"I told you I would protect what's mine."

And as Aurora curled into his side, as your hands cradled his face, you knew no power in this world or any other could break what you had built.

Not again.

[floatyflowers]

To Be Hero X Chat Bots

Character AI

To Be Hero X Harem

Spicy AI:

Lin Ling

Hero X

Janitor AI

Hero X

[floatyflowers]

Hey, I was wondering if you can do a Anubis one where the reader is the reincarnation of his wife,and the relationship is pretty good, and can you also please do a part 2 of Maleficent where the reader is Aurora's mother please.🙏🏾🙏🏾

The torches flickered in the sacred hall of the temple of Anubis, casting long shadows across the carved walls of Abydos.

You knelt before the black granite altar, your linen dress clinging to your skin in the thick Nile humidity.

You were a scribe’s daughter once, born among papyri and the scent of ink, until the day you offered a prayer too fervent and caught the attention of a god.

The priests said it was a blessing.

No, a miracle, that Anubis, guardian of the dead, had chosen you as his wife.

It was your destiny, they said.

But they never truly knew his personality.

They never saw how he appeared to you alone, in the silence of the night, when the stars above the desert blinked like distant gods watching from Duat.

You lived within the temple walls, untouched by mortal hands, as his sacred bride.

Offerings came daily, incense, flowers, bowls of wine, but he needed nothing. Nothing except your devotion.

Right now, his jackal-headed form is towering above you in the dark, his gold jewelry glinting in the moonlight.

"You called to me, wife."

"I did."

You turn on the spot, your hands clasped tightly together in front of your waist, a nervous habit you'd developed when you married him and never quite managed to break.  

His sudden presence, as always, sent anxious energy through you.  It was a feeling you'd come to recognize but never truly overcome.

"Your mother came to me," you said quietly, the words trembling on your tongue.

His silence deepened the hall, sucking the warmth from the air.

"She said…" You hesitated, fingers clenching tighter, nails pressing into your palms.

"She said you only married me because I’m… her. Because I’m the reincarnation of your first wife."

His eyes narrowed, unreadable. The weight of eternity hung behind them.

You pressed on, voice barely louder than a breath.

"Is that true, my lord? Did you choose me because I'm only her reincarnation?"

A growl rose from deep in his chest, not of anger, but something older. Grief.

"I chose you," he said, the words a rumble that echoed off the ancient stones.

"But she lives within you. And I cannot deny what was or what still lingers."

"I walked the Duat for centuries after her soul faded from the mortal world. I searched every chamber of the afterlifebfor even a fragment of her essence."

You stared up at him, heart pounding.

"She did not return to the Field of Reeds, nor linger in the judgment hall. She did not wait by the river, or call for me. She was gone."

"Until the day you prayed," he said.

"That night in your father’s study, when your voice trembled with longing, when you asked for more than the world dared offer. I heard you."

You remembered that moment, the desperation in your heart, aching to see your dead mother again.

Your breath caught.

"So it’s true, I'm her." you whispered.

Anubis unclaspes your hands, holding into them, trying to comfort you.

"No, you are better then her."

You tilt your head in confusion.

"How come?"

"You obey me, and she disobeyed me and refused my protection, which made her meet her own death."

[floatyflowers]

To Be Hero X || Yandere Lin Ling 'The Commoner' x Reader

"You always lie to me, sending me a pitiful message that you would kill yourself if I don't return your love!" you shouted, voice cracking as the storm of emotion finally burst free.

You are Lin Ling's childhood friend, but he has never imagined that when you told him about your stalker, that this stalker would turn out to be Nice.

The one he is impersonating right now.

Well, he can obviously see why Nice is obsessed with you.

Standing In front of him, with tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes spoke volumes about your impression of Nice.

But Lin Ling believes he can be better for you because he simply knows everything about you.

Even if Nice stalked you...yet he didn't grow up by your side and know all your dark secrets if you have any.

"I'm sorry,"

He said softly, voice dripping with false remorse, expertly slipping deeper into the mask of Nice.

"I didn’t mean to scare you. I just love you so much that it hurts."

He almost gagged on the words, but the way your eyes widened, the way your guard wavered, it made it worth it.

He couldn't tell you the truth.

Not when this gave him the excuse to stay close to you.

To be what you needed whether you realized it or not.

"I didn't mean it when I said those things," he continued, voice low, and innocent.

"I just get scared too scared that you will leave me."

"You have a girlfriend!"

"I don't love her, I only love you."

It's true that he loves you more than Xiao Yueqing.

"Our relationship is a contract."

You stay silent, before raising a suspicious eyebrow at him.

"Who are you?"

Your question shocks him, as you come to realise that he is not Nice and the surprised look on the imposter's face confirms it for you.

Lin Ling chuckles nervously, rubbing his neck before spilling the truth.

"This might sound strange, but I'm Lin Ling."

Your pupils dilute in surprise, and disbelief.

"Wait? What? How did this even happen? And what happened to Nice?"

"It's a long story, but he killed himself."

Hearing that, caused you to smile in relief.

"Oh, this is great, I'm finally free!"

However, that's not true at all, because you, dear reader, are unaware of your other stalkers.

...Your other heroic Stalkers

And also you are unaware of Lin Ling's obsession with you.

[floatyflowers]

Hi, I was wondering if you can do a Dark Male! Maleficent x female reader who is the mother of Aurora?

You were once the beloved of Maleficent, the dark and powerful fae lord, before King Stefan, his closest friend, stole you away, marrying you and making you queen.

When you bear Stefan a daughter, Princess Aurora, Maleficent's betrayed heart turns to vengeance.

He curses the child, ensuring she will die when she pricks her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel before the sun sets on her 16th birthday and dies.

Merryweather softened the curse so she would only fall into a deep sleep instead of dying on her sixteenth birthday unless true love’s kiss breaks the spell.

Your husband assigned three fairies to look after Aurora, and they are Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather.

However, you insisted on going with them to look after your daughter, to which Stefan hesitantly agreed.

One evening, as you gathered herbs near the edge of the forest with Aurora, you felt it, a presence, dark and familiar.

"Does Stefan ever visit?"

The voice echoed through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. You turned slowly, your breath catching as he emerged from the trees

Maleficent.

Taller than you remembered, his horns gleaming like polished onyx, his green eyes glowing in the dim light.

His cloak of raven feathers shifted with every step, the air around him humming with restrained power.

"No," you answered softly, gripping your basket tighter. "He never has."

Maleficent's lips curled into a smirk. "How tragic. To abandon his wife and child… just as he abandoned loyalty."

You swallowed hard. "Why are you here?"

His gaze burned into yours.

"I could ask you the same. You were a queen. Now you live in a cottage, hiding like a common thief."

"I'm protecting my daughter," you snapped.

"From me?" He asks.

His gaze turns to the unaware princess as she happily collects the herbs.

"I could remove the curse."

Your heart fills with hope as you quickly demand what he wants.

"What are your conditions?"

"You know what I want," he said.

Your breath hitched.

"I loved you. Before he ever dared whisper your name. I would have razed kingdoms for your happiness, and yet..." His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.

"He took you. Lied to me, made me believe you had chosen him."

Your eyes widened. "That’s not true!"

"Is it not?" he snapped, stepping closer, his voice like thunder beneath his breath.

"He told me you saw me as a monster, that you were frightened of what I was, that you were grateful he saved you.”

"I never said that!" you gasped.

"Stefan… he told me you had left, that you were consumed by darkness and no longer cared-"

Maleficent's eyes narrowed, coming to realise what has happened.

"He poisoned us both."

"I would have chosen you," you admit, voice trembling.

"I did choose you. But when he said you were gone, I-"

He was in front of you now, so close, his scent giving you nostalgia.

His hand lifted, hesitated, then brushed a strand of hair from your cheek, the touch was gentle.

"Then come back to me," Maleficent stares firmly.

"You, leave this hollow life behind, the curse remains unless I lift it. But I will not do so unless I know you are mine again."

"I can't just walk away," you said. "She's his daughter too."

"He does not deserve her," Maleficent said coldly. "And you know it. He has not lifted a finger to protect her. You have. You’ve always been the one.”

Your gaze moves to your daughter, thinking matters over.

"Renounce your marriage to him, and I will make you my wife and I will raise Aurora as my daughter and make her the princess of the Moors."

Now, staring back at the Fae king, you make your decision.

You are ready to sacrifice everything for your daughter's safety.

"As long as you keep your promise and lift the curse I will also keep my promise."

Part Two>>>

[floatyflowers]

I saw a post that said that authors do, in fact, like to receive validation. So I would like to say that your writing style is amazing and so is anything you write. Honestly, my favourites have to be your percy jackson series. And for the more recent ones, the Male!Glinda and I swear you had a white king one from alice in Wonderland, but I couldn't find it. When I think of yandere authors, you come to mind. I eat, so well anytime you post, and your work is amazing.🫶🏻

(Also, you are my fav out of all the yandere authors)

Your words are so sweet and also motivate me to write, thank you 🩷🩷🩷

Also here is the link to the White King:

https://www.tumblr.com/floatyflowers/771523855645868032/hi-big-fan-of-your-books-if-your-taking-any?source=share