#Yandere Isabela

[midnightlee25]

Yandere ABC: Isabela Madrigal

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? 

It varies depending on the situation. In private she will be very affectionate but in public she will team it down just a little unless she’s trying to get someone to back off or just to show off their relationship. 

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? 

She will make accidents happen and no one will be able to be connected back to her. 

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling? 

She can’t be rather stern with her darling, but she can also be very soft. It just depends on what’s happening at that moment and what mood she’s in. 

Delusional: How aware are they? 

She knows what she is doing isn't normal, but she just can't help it. (a part of her does hate her darling for making her this way.) 

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? 

It is hard for her, but she will eventually, little by little, open to them... 

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back? 

Irritated, she doesn't understand why they won't just stop being so uncooperative.  

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience? 

Her punishments are one of the worst things that will deal with. 

Ideals: What is their plan for the future? 

She just wants a normal life with her darling. Is that so hard to ask for? 

 Jealousy: How jealous are they when it comes to their darling? 

She doesn't get jealous too often, but it is a dangerous game when she is. 

Knowledgeable: How much would they try to learn about their darling? 

She learns enough to get close to them. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? 

For the most part she will charm her way into her darling's life.  

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? 

She acts differently even in front of her family at times. 

Naughty: How would they punish their darling? 

Her punishments are harsh and swift.  

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? 

They really will have to earn their freedoms with her and even then, there's a chance they won't get them.  

Patience: How patient are they with their darling? 

She can be patient with her darling depending on the situation.  

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on? 

It will always be at the back of her mind but that's where she keeps it to move on.  

Regret: Would they feel guilty? Would they let go? 

There would be times when she feels guilty and as much as she would like to let go of her darling, she just can't bring herself to.  

Stigma: What brought about this side of them? 

She's not too sure herself all she knows is that it all started when she first met her darling. 

Tears: How do they feel about their darling crying, screaming, and/or throwing a tantrum? 

If she was the one who caused it, she would feel a bit guilty but if it was because of someone else she would make them pay in some way.  

Unique: Does anything make them different from the classic yandere? 

She is harsher with her darling than yanderes usually are with their darling since there are times when she seems to do it for no reason.  

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit to escape? 

Her perfect mask that she uses so if they manage to get around a group of people (that isn't her family) they have a chance of getting some distance.  

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling? 

Enough to leave small marks but that would only be as warnings or because of a punishment.  

Xoanon: How much would they worship their darling? 

She can be sweet with her darling but that's about as far as it will go. 

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? 

It's a mix of a few things that will make her snap, two of which being her darling not just being with her and her hating being this way.  

Zeal: How passionate would they be? Would they be passionate enough to break their darling? 

There is a good chance she will break them and a part of her will mean to do it even if she doesn't realize it at first.  

[lurvelybones]

Isabela (Webtoon) by Plnt Senta 🍷 ❣️🫀🩸

My new fave manhwa! The art is beautiful but terrifying, which exactly reflects the horror aspect of obsessive love.

Edit: make sure to read it in webtoon, not other manhwa translation website. The manhwa is being updated and you'll miss out on back stories and other details. The updated chap 1 is fantastich.

[grimyandereencantosimp]

Isabela with fem reader who doesn't speak Spanish and thus can't communicate to anyone that they don't want to be with Isabela.

(Love this one!)

Helpless (Yandere Isabela x Fem! Non native speaking! Reader)

Tw: Slight sadism?, unhealthy obsession, yandere themes.

You didn’t want to be with Isabela, you didn’t want to be stuck with her forever. You never wanted to know her in the first place. But she got everything she wanted, and that one thing was you. And she ended up getting just that, fortune for her, unfortunate for you.

You had tried multiple times to ask people for help, to tell them you didn’t want to be with the lady in purple. But it never worked because you couldn’t speak spanish, no one in the Encanto knew English that well, so they never understood what you were trying to say. It was honestly the worst thing that could of happened to you.

Unable to communicate to anyone except Isabela. Unable to get help, having to be stuck with Isabela.

Isabela knew that you were trying to ask people for help, it was nothing but entertainment for her. Seeing you so helpless, unable to escape her. She loved it. She loved the fact you could never leave her.

You were the little flower that couldn’t escape. Her little flower.

[writer1queenjaysblog]

I'm sick but I'm still going to do this.

Thanksgiving with the Madrigals!

Just some funny drama, skits, and wholesome things.

Kitchen drama!

Julieta is cooking of course 😋 👌 😌. (*Camilo trying to sneak food but gets popped with a hand to spoon*)

Dolores is the ears to make sure nothing crazy happens mostly to keep Camilo from eating food before its done. Her and Isabella helping cut vegetables and season while Juileta cooks it, she also seasons the food.

Agustin wants to help but he makes a mess (he hurts himself from cutting his fingers, stubbing his toe, and burning himself and his wife heals him he goes with the fellas to do something so he doesn'thurt himself again)

Mirabel planning out everything her, Camilo argue over him doing something wrong like not setting the table right to her catching him slacking on the job (she caught him eating food he snuck out the kitchen under a table or in a closet he has his face stuffed with food looking like a deer in head lights 😆 🤣.)

Antonio is playing with the animals and helping too. Watches cartoons with his dad and tio Bruno with the rat who are eating food in the corner with Camilo.

Lusia help Isabella pick the vegetables and fruits needed, and move tables & chairs around. Helped her mother with cooking too. Her and Isabella help mirabel too from flowers to the guest list.

Pepa and Felix make sure Camilo doesn't eat anything..again.

Pepa and Felix entertain the people with Bruno who has his rat do a performance.

Fights again but this time Camilo and his brother Carlos (just pretend he's in the family I added him in) are fighting over a girl & food...again. the boys fight like it's WWE smack down.

Afterwards they calm down, Carlos tried to help In the kitchen but burned the pie (4 of them) which means he has to in the living since Abulea doesn't want the new Casita to burn down.

Antonio plays with the animals and helps make another pie & does well, he also made cake with mirabel and so he did great.

Eating contest/ fun

Camilo wins the pie eating contest as always. He and Carlos made it into a tie for the last slice.

Camilo entertains others with Carlos with Bruno. Mirabel playing the accordion singing with the others.

They enjoy tales and partying having fun, they have family members coming just to get a plate and leave.

Camilo fixes a 5th plate when no one was looking. (Got caught by Bruno fixes a plate putting extra Mac & cheese eating while fixing the plate) A family member brought their wife over and she made casserole with raisins in it. (Poor Julieta fainted, everyone was sick even Camilo who'd eat anything almost threw up)

Someone said Pepa's corn bread was a little dry (poor fella caught hell. Camilo & Carlos almost choked and Bruno had to intervene before he got hurt, and Felix had to hold her back and Julieta calmed her too)

If you want a part 2 let me know.

Happy Thanksgiving y'all! 🦃

[novthewolf]

Encanto Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*

Camilo Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Camilo x Reader Headcanons

Camilo proposing to you

Camilo taking care of you while you're sick

Yandere!Camilo x Reader

Camilo x Reader with Shadow Magic

Camilo simping over Reader

Camilo x insecure!reader

Camilo meeting your ex-boyfriend would include

Having a secret relationship with Camilo would include

Jealous!Camilo x Reader

Camilo being the only one capable of making you laugh

Stealing Camilo's ruana would include

Camilo comforting you when you're crying

Camilo simping over Magical!Reader

Camilo saying "I love you" for the first time

Camilo reacting to Jealous!Reader

Camilo accidentally confessing his feeling to you

Dancing with Camilo Madrigal

Adult!Camilo caring for his pregnant woman

Imagine :

None *-*-*-*-*

Dolores Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

How the Familly Madrigal react to Dolores's noise sensitivity

Imagine : None

*-*-*-*-*

Pepa Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Pepa x Reader Headcanons

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

Bruno Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Bruno Madrigal having a heavy crush on Reader Headcanons

Bruno comforting his nieces and nephews

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

Mirabel Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Having a picnic date with Mirabel Madrigal would include

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

Luisa Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

None

Imagine :

Helping Luisa Madrigal through her anxiety

*-*-*-*-*

Isabela Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Isabela dating a botanist Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

Julieta Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Julieta Madrigal x Reader Headcanons

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

The Family Madrigal - [Request Open]

Headcanons :

Family Madrigal helping a self-harming!Reader

Imagine :

None

*-*-*-*-*

[twistedheartsclub]

Mi Vida- Yandere X Reader

WARNINGS: obsession · manipulation · noncon/dubcon · power imbalance · age gap · physical intimidation · emotional abuse · stalking · grooming · controlling behavior · isolation · toxic romance · violence · threats · trauma · forced domesticity · family pressure · dark themes involving children (not harmed) · possessive male lead · victim-blaming · blurred consent

This IS A fictional portrayal — not representative of Latino culture!!

Y/N moves to a quiet town with her retired father, hoping for a fresh start. When she meets Santiago, a powerful man with ties to the local cartel, she’s drawn into a world of strict tradition and family expectations. As she adjusts to life in his home, surrounded by customs she barely understands, she must learn where love ends… and control begins.

Y/N’s small, aging car bumped along the gravel road as the heavy, wrought-iron gates creaked open.

She gripped the wheel tighter.

In the back seat, Camila sniffled—curled under a soft pink blanket, her second-grade backpack pressed to her chest.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Y/N said gently. “You’ll be in bed soon.”

She had no idea what kind of place she was delivering the girl to. Only that the school forms listed an address, and none of the emergency contacts picked up the phone. And Camila had been burning up.

Then she saw it.

The house.

No—estate.

A sprawling hacienda-style mansion nestled in the hills, surrounded by high walls, guards with rifles, and sleek black SUVs parked like a silent warning. The kind of home you didn’t knock on. You were summoned to.

Y/N swallowed hard.

What kind of family is this?

She stepped out of the car, opening the back door to scoop Camila into her arms.

That’s when she heard them.

Boots.

Four men in black approached from the shadows, guns holstered at their sides, eyes masked and unreadable.

“State your name,” one of them said flatly.

“M-Miss Y/N,” she replied, adjusting Camila on her hip. “I’m her teacher. She got sick. I tried to call—nobody answered, so I brought her home.”

They didn’t respond.

One of them spoke into an earpiece in Spanish.

Seconds later, the front door opened.

He stepped out.

Santiago.

Tall. Broad. Tattoos visible even in the low light. His black button-up was half-undone, sleeves rolled, the ink on his neck creeping just beneath his jaw. His eyes—deep brown and ice-cold—landed on Y/N like a spotlight.

She froze.

So did the air around them.

“¿Qué pasa?” (What's up) he asked, voice low.

The guard answered.

His eyes narrowed.

He looked at Y/N like she was a threat. Or a test.

“You brought her here?” he asked in perfect English, his accent rich and sharp.

“She was sick,” Y/N said, trying to sound steady. “She had a fever. No one picked up. I thought—”

“You thought this was appropriate?”

Y/N flinched, but stood her ground.

“I thought your daughter shouldn’t be alone at school, crying and shivering. I thought someone should take care of her.”

That silenced him.

His gaze flicked to Camila’s sleeping face, flushed with fever.

Something shifted.

“Bring her inside,” he said, but not to Y/N—to one of his men. Then to her: “You stay.”

Inside, everything smelled like cigar smoke, leather, and sandalwood. Expensive. Powerful.

Y/N stood by the doorway, unsure what to do. Santiago watched her from behind a crystal tumbler of dark liquor.

“You teach both my daughters?”

“Yes. Camila and Isabela.”

“And you drove her here yourself?”

“She needed help.”

“Most people don’t come up this road unless they want something.”

She blinked. “I didn’t even know who you were.”

That made him smile. Just a little.

“Then you’re either very brave… or very stupid.”

Y/N’s voice shook—but just barely.

“I’m just a teacher.”

“No,” he murmured, eyes dragging slowly down her body. “You’re something else.”

He didn’t offer to walk her out. Didn’t thank her.

But as she turned to leave, he said it:

“Next time… you call me first.”

“And if you don’t answer?”

“I always answer,” he said, stepping closer—his scent intoxicating. “Especially for you.”

Every morning was precise.

Coffee strong. Suits sharp. Gun holstered. Orders given before sunrise.

The cartel moved like a machine under his command—shipments, threats, blood if needed. No room for softness. No room for distraction.

And yet…

“Miss Y/N says if you eat too fast, you’ll get a tummy ache,” Isabela chirped from across the table.

Santiago grunted.

“Miss Y/N gave me a golden star!” Camila added, swinging her legs in the air.

Every day.

Every damn day.

Her name.

That voice.

“Miss Y/N says…” “Miss Y/N baked…” “Miss Y/N smelled like flowers…” “Miss Y/N hugged me goodbye…”

It was driving him insane.

“Enough,” he snapped one morning, slamming his espresso cup down hard enough to crack the porcelain.

The girls went quiet, startled.

He closed his eyes. Took a breath.

“Finish your food,” he muttered.

She was nothing. Just a girl. Pretty, yes. Soft-spoken. Big eyes. That mouth…

He leaned back in his leather chair later that night, glass of scotch in hand, ignoring the security footage playing in front of him.

Until he wasn’t.

The screen blinked.

Miss Y/N, outside the school gates, waving goodbye to his daughters.

She bent slightly to tie Camila’s shoe.

The curve of her waist beneath that modest skirt…

His jaw tightened.

She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me.

She wasn’t like the women he kept company with. No designer heels. No cold ambition. No fake breasts or gold-digging smiles.

She was warm. Real. Stupidly good.

And worst of all?

His daughters loved her.

Which meant he couldn’t touch her.

Not yet.

Y/N taught the girls phonics and colors. Sang during art class. Let them hug her a little too long. She didn’t realize how often they talked about their father—how rich he was, how scary, how handsome.

“Do you think Daddy’s sad?” Camila asked once, coloring.

“Why would he be sad?” Y/N replied gently.

“Because he’s alone.”

Y/N smiled. “Maybe he likes it that way.”

“He doesn’t,” Isabela said with certainty. “He just doesn’t know how to be with someone nice.”

Y/N laughed softly.

She didn’t know the man beyond one strange encounter.

She didn’t know he watched her leave school three times that week.

Or that his guards were keeping quiet about the cameras he had facing the school gates.

That night, Santiago stood in his private study, overlooking the city.

He should’ve been thinking about deals. Threats. Enemies.

But his mind kept circling back to the soft knock of her voice. Her trembling chin that night she brought Camila home.

And the faint, sweet scent she left on his couch cushions.

“She’s off-limits,” he muttered aloud.

But his fingers were already dialing someone.

“I want her full file,” he said. “Family. History. Blood type. Everything.”

The Birthday Party Invitation

It started with crayon drawings and glitter glue.

Camila and Isabela handed Y/N a folded card during dismissal, their faces lit with excitement.

“You have to come,” Camila said, bouncing.

“Please, Miss Y/N?” Isabela begged. “We already told Daddy.”

Y/N smiled, reading the crooked handwriting. Saturday. 2pm. Casa de Reyes.

Her stomach tightened.

She remembered the estate. The silence. The way their father had looked at her.

“Girls… I’m not sure I can—”

“Daddy said he’d make sure you come.”

Y/N blinked. “He… did?”

Saturday morning, she was baking muffins in denial when a matte black SUV pulled into her driveway.

Her father stepped out onto the porch, confused.

“You expecting someone?”

Y/N wiped her hands on a towel and stared out the window.

“No,” she lied.

The passenger door opened.

“Señor Santiago sent me,” the man said. “The girls are waiting.”

She hesitated.

But she couldn’t disappoint the twins.

And truthfully… something in her fluttered. Nervous. Intrigued.

She left her apron hanging on the hook and stepped into the car.

The estate was transformed.

Balloon arches, pink streamers, a cake that looked like a castle.

Y/N stepped out in a soft yellow sundress, clutching the gift she brought. Her sandals crunched against the gravel.

Then she saw him.

Santiago.

Black shirt. Top buttons undone. Tattooed arms crossed. Watching her from the balcony like a god waiting to strike lightning.

She didn’t flinch this time.

Not much.

“You came,” he said as she approached.

“I wasn’t sure I had a choice.”

“You didn’t.”

He smirked when she flushed.

 Alone With Him

Later, when the kids were distracted and the adults mingled, he cornered her in the garden. A quiet alcove, away from prying eyes.

“I looked into you,” he said.

“You what?”

“You left the States two months ago. Moved in with your father. After your fiancé broke things off.”

Her face drained of color.

“You had no right—”

“He cheated, didn’t he?” Santiago cut in, stepping closer. “But you stayed anyway. Tried to forgive him.”

She swallowed. “It’s not your business.”

“But it is now,” he murmured, voice low, dangerous. “Because my daughters adore you. Because you brought her home when no one else did. Because you walked into my home and didn’t run.”

“I was scared,” she whispered.

“But you still came back,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Even now. You’re trembling, but you’re still standing in front of me.”

“Because of the girls.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

His fingers brushed the side of her neck.

“You’re soft,” he said. “Too soft for this place. You’re not ready for what it means to be looked at by someone like me.”

She stepped back. “Then stop looking.”

He smiled. Cruel and slow.

“I don’t think I can.”

The sun was setting. The party had mellowed—cake eaten, laughter fading, guests starting to trickle out.

Y/N sat on a picnic blanket, Camila nestled against her side while Isabela tried to braid her hair.

“You’re like a mommy,” Camila whispered.

Y/N smiled softly, heart pinching. “Just your teacher, sweetheart.”

But Santiago was watching from the shadows of the balcony again.

Watching the way she cradled his daughter. The way she brushed icing from Camila’s cheek. The way her dress clung to her like innocence itself.

She doesn’t even know she’s already mine.

Then—

A scream.

One of his men was being dragged across the garden by two guards. His face was bloodied. He was pleading.

“I didn’t know, patrón—I didn’t mean to—”

Santiago descended the steps without urgency.

“Take him out back.”

Y/N stood immediately, heart racing.

Camila whimpered. Isabela froze.

“Girls,” Y/N whispered. “Come with me.”

She didn’t wait.

She gathered them both in her arms and walked them inside like it was the most natural thing in the world. Protecting them. Shielding their eyes. Calming them.

Like a mother.

Like a wife.

Santiago’s POV

She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t scream.

She simply moved.

Moved his daughters like they were hers. Held them like they belonged to her. Walked through his domain like she was already part of it.

It snapped something in him.

She fits.

He watched her from the hallway as she knelt, tucking Camila into a guest bed. Whispering gently, her voice a lullaby against the dark.

He wanted to drag her out of that room. Pin her to the wall. Mark her neck until no one else could touch her.

You don’t even realize what you’ve done to me.

Later that night, her father noticed the tension in her eyes.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said, too quickly.

“Don’t lie to me.”

She hesitated. Then: “One of his men—he hurt him. Badly. In front of everyone.”

Her father’s jaw clenched.

“You’re not going back there.”

“The girls—”

“Y/N. That man… isn’t safe. He’s cartel. His hands are covered in blood. I’ve seen men like him during my tours. They don’t change. They don’t love. They own.”

Y/N looked away.

But the warmth of Camila’s hug still lingered in her arms.

So did the way Santiago looked at her—like she was something to devour.

Two days later, a package arrived at the school office.

Inside?

A box. Velvet.

And resting inside it—

A gold necklace.

Delicate. Subtle.

With a small charm that read, simply:

"Mi Reina." (My Queen.)

No note. No sender listed.

But she knew.

Her fingers trembled as she closed the box.

The box had been tucked away in her desk drawer, unopened since she first saw it.

She didn’t know what scared her more—how expensive it looked… or how much she wanted to wear it.

But that morning, the twins came in early for classroom setup. Camila spotted it first.

“Miss Y/N! That’s it!”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

Isabela tugged the drawer open with a giggle. “That’s the necklace! We helped Daddy pick it!”

“You… what?”

“He said we had to make sure it was perfect for you,” Camila chirped.

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

“Put it on!” they begged.

Her hands hesitated.

Just to be polite, she told herself.

She clasped it around her neck.

It was light.

But it felt like chains.

Recess.

The sun was high. The kids loud.

Y/N had just turned to check on a student near the slide when she heard the shriek.

“CAMILA!”

She turned and saw it—one of the boys, older, had shoved Camila down hard. She landed on her elbow, crying, dirt smudged across her cheek.

Y/N rushed over, scooping her into her arms.

But the boy barely had time to smirk—

Before he arrived.

Santiago.

Black suit, no tie, sleeves rolled up.

“What the fuck happened?” His voice was low, lethal.

“Sir—!” The teacher assistant stepped back, panicked.

Y/N met his eyes. “It was a boy. He pushed her. It’s being handled.”

He was already storming toward the boy, who now looked like he might wet himself.

“She’s a little girl,” Santiago growled, fists clenched. “You want to hit someone? Try me—”

“Santiago!” Y/N’s voice cracked through the chaos.

He froze.

She walked straight up to him, still holding Camila close, and hissed, “You can’t scare children. You don’t get to turn this school into your battlefield.”

His eyes burned into her.

“He touched my daughter.”

“And I took care of it. Not you. Me.”

They were so close now, the air practically vibrating between them.

“You’re wearing it,” he murmured suddenly.

Y/N blinked. “What?”

His gaze dropped to the necklace. Her fingers instinctively rose to cover it.

“It looks good on you,” he said quietly, his anger still simmering. “Makes you mine.”

“I’m not yours,” she whispered back.

“Aren’t you?” he asked. “You protected her like a mother. Scolded me like a wife.”

She swallowed.

“You're trembling,” he added, voice softer now. “But you’re still here. Still holding her. Still standing in front of me.”

His fingers brushed her hair from her face, slowly. Possessively.

“You can hate me,” he said. “But you were made to belong to someone. Might as well be me.”

She wanted to speak. Scream. Something.

But Camila clung to her, quieting her thoughts.

And Santiago leaned in—pressed a soft kiss to his daughter's temple…

Then brushed one against Y/N’s knuckles before walking away.

Her father had seen war.

But Santiago… Santiago was another kind of danger.

He stood in Y/N’s small living room like he owned it, calm and confident in a charcoal suit, every word dripping with velvet assurance.

“I’m not here to argue,” Santiago said, sipping the coffee her father made out of obligation. “Only to tell you this: I care for your daughter. Deeply.”

“You’re twice her age.”

“I’m not denying what I am,” Santiago said smoothly. “But your daughter… she’s not like other women. She’s kind. Brave. She tucks my daughters in like they’re hers.”

Her father’s fists clenched.

“If you care about her,” he said coldly, “you’ll leave her alone.”

“If I thought that would keep her safe,” Santiago replied, “I would.”

Silence.

Then her father leaned forward, voice tight. “She’s all I have left. I’ll make this clear. She must choose this. She must love you. Or it’s over.”

Santiago smiled slowly.

“Then I’ll make sure she does.”

Y/N stood at his office door, heart racing, the velvet box in her palm.

She hadn’t slept since the playground.

His kiss on her hand haunted her. The twins’ words replayed in her head like a lullaby turned curse.

He looked up when she entered—no guards, just him.

“Miss Y/N,” he said, smiling. “Did you miss me already?”

She walked forward, dropped the box onto his desk.

“I’m not wearing this.”

He stood, slowly.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t belong to you.”

His expression shifted—something darker underneath the charm. He walked around the desk, close now, predatory.

“You wore it once,” he said softly. “And I haven’t stopped thinking about you since.”

She took a step back. “I’m returning it. That’s it.”

But he reached out—gently cupping her jaw, thumb brushing her lip.

“You think giving back a necklace undoes everything?” he whispered. “That it unravels the way you looked with my daughter in your arms? The way your voice sounds in my house?”

“Let go of me.”

“You let my daughters braid your hair,” he murmured. “You kissed Camila’s forehead when she cried. You touched something inside me that hasn’t moved since my wife was buried.”

His hand slid to her throat—light, but firm.

“Don’t pretend you're not meant for this.”

“You don’t get to choose me,” she hissed.

“No,” he said, voice low. “But I will convince you. In every way you need.”

He kissed her.

Rough. Claiming. As if he could mold her mouth to fit his.

She shoved him.

Hard.

“Don’t touch me again.”

He smirked.

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

She ran.

But she felt the necklace still around her throat—because when he kissed her, he’d clasped it back on.

The necklace still clung to her throat when she awoke.

She had scrubbed her skin raw in the shower, wiped her lips until they stung, but his touch lingered. Worse… her body remembered it.

And when she walked into the kitchen, pale and shaken, her father noticed.

“What happened to your neck?”

Her hand shot up—too late.

A faint mark. His thumbprint. Bruising beneath the delicate gold chain.

“Y/N.”

“It’s nothing,” she whispered. “I slipped.”

“He touched you.” His voice cracked with rage.

“No. He didn’t—”

“He put his hands on you.” Her father stood. “I warned him. I swore—”

“I let him.” The words came out before she could stop them. A lie, half-baked by fear and shame.

Her father stared at her, betrayed.

She looked away.

“He said he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“He didn’t,” she said, soft and broken. “He just… reminded me who he is.”

That night, Santiago stood in a wine cellar with blood on his hands.

Literally.

The man chained to the pipe hadn’t screamed in the last hour. Santiago crouched down beside him, expression calm, almost fatherly.

“You touched something that belonged to me.”

“She’s just a teacher,” the man rasped. “Just a—”

The blow came fast. Brutal.

Teeth clattered to the floor.

“She’s mine.”

Santiago wiped the blood from his knuckles, handed his gloves to a guard.

“Cut out his tongue,” he said casually. “Send it to the others. No one speaks her name but me.”

The next day, Y/N was still shaken when she opened her classroom door and found him waiting—clean suit, dark shades, expression unreadable.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to—”

“It’s about the girls.”

That stopped her.

She crossed her arms. “What about them?”

“There’s a situation that needs my attention. A week. Maybe more. They’ll be home from school on break.”

He stepped closer, lowered his voice.

“They trust you. More than anyone.”

“That doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“You don’t have to,” he said. “You only need to say yes.”

She hesitated.

“You’ll stay in the house,” he added. “Security will guard the perimeter. No one gets in. Not even me.”

“You expect me to live there?”

“Just watch them,” he said. “They’ll feel safe with you. Like it’s… normal.”

He didn’t smile.

But his hand brushed her wrist. Slowly. Possessively.

“Please,” he said.

And that broke her.

Because no one had ever heard please from his mouth before.

That night, she packed a single bag.

When she entered the villa, the girls screamed with joy—hugged her like she was their world. Isabela showed her the guest room. Camila braided her hair while they watched movies.

For a moment… it felt safe.

But when the lights dimmed, and she was alone in the guest room…

She realized every corner of the house whispered him.

His scent in the sheets.

His voice echoing in her head.

The cameras in the hallway.

The guards who wouldn’t meet her eyes.

And in her dresser drawer…

A silk nightgown. Her size.

And a note, unsigned:

Wear it for me when I return.

It was the fourth night.

Y/N was wearing his house like a second skin now. She cooked for the girls. Read them bedtime stories. Laughed like she wasn’t sleeping with one eye open.

She still hadn’t called him.

But he called her.

The twins answered, giggling, curling up on the couch.

“Papi!” they screamed into the screen. “We miss you!”

“I miss you too, muñecas,” (Dolls) Santiago’s voice came through low and soft, the camera showing only his smile and the glow of a darkened room. “Have you been good for Miss Y/N?”

“She’s the best!” Camila beamed. “She made pancakes and did our hair!”

Isabela turned the phone so Y/N could be seen walking down the hallway, fresh from a shower, towel wrapped around her, her damp hair clinging to her neck.

“Miss Y/N!” Camila called. “Come say hi to Papi!”

Y/N froze. “Girls, give me just a second—”

But Isabela turned the camera without thinking. Right as Y/N dropped the towel to put on her T-shirt.

“Girls!” she cried, rushing to cover herself. “Out, now! I—I’m not mad, just—please!”

The twins burst into apologies, scrambling off the bed and leaving the phone on the nightstand.

It was only then she realized the FaceTime hadn’t ended.

The camera still faced her room. Still streaming.

Still watching.

Santiago hadn’t said a word the entire time.

Now, his voice came through.

“Hermosa…” (Beautiful)

She snatched the phone and hung up, heart racing, face flushed.

On the other side of the screen, Santiago sat in silence.

The guards in the room dared not breathe.

Because they could see it—that look in his eyes.

Pure, burning possession.

He ran a hand over his face, jaw clenched, fighting every instinct to charter a jet that very moment.

“I saw everything,” he murmured, almost to himself. “And she doesn’t even know what she does to me.”

He stood, voice sharper now.

“Move the next meeting. Handle the shipment without me. I’m flying out.”

“Sir, we still haven’t confirmed—”

“I said I’m flying out. I want to be home before sunrise.”

His guards moved instantly.

As Santiago reached for his gun and watch, he glanced once more at the paused frame still open on his tablet.

Y/N—wet hair, towel slipping, lips parted in shock.

“She’s not ready,” he whispered. “But I am.”

“And when I walk through that door…”

His smile returned—slow, dark, dangerous.

“She won’t run from me this time.”

The scent of garlic and butter filled the kitchen. Laughter rang through the villa—Isabela standing on a stepstool, stirring pasta with Y/N’s hand guiding hers, while Camila set the table, proudly humming one of Y/N’s silly songs.

And her?

Y/N wore the black silk dress he left folded on her bed.

She hadn’t meant to. She just… didn’t want to disappoint the girls. They picked it. Said “Papi likes this one.”

She didn’t expect him to return so soon.

She especially didn’t expect to feel his eyes on her back before she even turned around.

“Papi!”

Camila shrieked and bolted from the table, launching into Santiago’s arms. Isabela followed, squealing, smearing tomato sauce on his crisp white shirt. He didn’t flinch.

He hugged them tightly. Lovingly.

But his eyes…

Never left Y/N.

She froze by the stove, hand trembling on the ladle. Her breath caught.

Because the way he was looking at her?

Like a starving man. Like a storm.

Like he wanted to devour her.

And suddenly, she realized—she’d made this house feel like a home.

“Welcome back,” she said quietly, not moving.

“Don’t stop cooking on my account,” he replied, his voice smooth, low, dangerous.

The girls begged him to stay for dinner.

He agreed instantly.

They sat together at the table—like a family.

Santiago at the head, daughters at his side, Y/N across from him.

She tried to keep her eyes on her plate, but he never looked away.

“This is good,” he said softly, slicing into the chicken she made. “Tastes like… you missed me.”

She flushed, hands tightening in her lap.

The girls giggled, oblivious.

“Miss Y/N helped us cook!” Camila grinned. “We made dessert too!”

“She’s been perfect,” Isabela added. “Like a mommy.”

His gaze darkened. His hand curled into a fist.

Like a mommy.

His girls.

His house.

His dress clinging to her curves.

His woman.

After dinner, as the girls raced off to get ready for a movie, Y/N stood to clear the dishes.

“Why are you back so soon?” she asked, keeping her tone light. “Does that mean I can go home now?”

The words barely left her lips before everything changed.

He stood—slowly.

She turned. His body was close. Too close.

“No.”

His voice was steel.

“No?” she whispered.

“You don’t get to ask that.” He stepped closer. “You walk around in my clothes. You let my children call you mommy. You cook my meals in my kitchen.”

“They asked me to—”

“And you said yes.”

He slammed a hand against the wall beside her head, making her flinch.

“You think this is a job?” he hissed. “That you come here, play house, and just leave?”

She swallowed hard, heart pounding. “You said it would just be for the week.”

“Plans change,” he growled.

“But I have a life—”

“Not anymore.”

He gripped her chin, forced her to meet his eyes.

“You’re not leaving this house. You belong to me now.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“The girls—”

“Will forget you if I say so,” he snapped. “But I won’t. I can’t. You walked into my home, into their lives, and made everything feel again.”

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“I did. And now you’re mine.”

His thumb brushed over her lips. Rough. Possessive.

“Say it.”

“Santiago—”

“Say. It.”

Her lips trembled. “I’m… yours.”

“Good girl,” he breathed. “Now clean up. I’ll tuck the girls in. Then we’ll talk about your room.”

She backed away, shaking.

“What about it?”

He smiled.

“You won’t be sleeping in the guest room anymore.”

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

Y/N sat on the edge of the guest bed, the silk dress clinging to her skin like a warning. The lights were dim, the night air warm, and every breath she took felt heavier than the last.

She heard his footsteps long before she saw him.

Measured. Heavy. Slow.

The door creaked open.

Santiago stood there, freshly showered, shirtless, his chest broad and scarred, his gaze locked on her like a predator surveying its prey.

“You weren’t in my bed.”

She looked up, heart thudding.

“I didn’t know if I was supposed to—”

“Supposed to?” he echoed, stepping inside, shutting the door behind him. “After everything you’ve done? After the way you took care of my daughters… the way you wore my dress… the way you looked when you dropped that towel?”

He chuckled low in his throat.

“You’ve been mine for a long time, princesa. You just didn’t want to admit it.”

She stood, panic stirring beneath her ribs. “Santiago, I—”

“Shhh.”

He crossed the room in three strides, towering over her. One hand rose slowly to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched at the touch, but didn’t move away.

“You look just like her,” he whispered. “But softer. Sweeter. And still untouched.”

His hand slid down her arm.

“Don’t.”

Her voice cracked.

“Don’t what?” he murmured, tilting her chin up. “You’ve been waiting for this. Whether you understand it yet or not.”

“I haven’t—”

“You stayed,” he said, voice firmer now. “You made a home here. You fed my girls, made them laugh, wore my things, slept under my roof, looked at me like I wasn’t a monster. That means something.”

“Because they needed someone. That’s all—”

“No, mi vida.” (My Life) His lips ghosted over her temple. “It’s because you were meant to be here. With me.”

She tried to step back, but his arms closed around her like iron.

“You belong to me now.”

Her body trembled as he walked her backward until her knees hit the mattress. She sat down hard, breath catching.

“Santiago, please…”

“You’ll thank me,” he murmured, dropping to his knees between her legs, kissing her stomach softly through the silk. “You just don’t know it yet.”

He slid the straps of the dress down her shoulders. She froze.

“I… I don’t want—”

He hushed her again, fingers threading through her hair as he looked up at her, eyes dark and wild.

“Your body’s shaking,” he whispered. “But it’s not pulling away.”

She didn’t answer.

She couldn’t.

Because part of her was frozen. Terrified. Drenched in confusion and fear.

And he took that silence as yes.

“Mi esposa,” he breathed, brushing kisses along her bare thighs. “My wife. My girl. My future.”

“I never said—”

“You will,” he promised. “Tonight, your body learns. Tomorrow, your mind follows.”

He lifted her dress higher.

Y/N gasped, hands clenching the sheets. The air was thick. Her heart pounded so loud she couldn’t hear her own thoughts.

“Please don’t do this—”

“Shhh,” he cooed, pressing his mouth to her hip. “You were made for me. All of this—this softness, this fear, these little tears—it’s mine.”

And still, she didn’t fight.

Because where would she go?

His girls were asleep down the hall.

Her father was hours away.

The gates were locked. Her body, trembling. Her voice, useless.

Santiago rose to his feet, pushing her gently back onto the bed. He hovered over her, eyes roving, chest rising with hunger.

“I’ll put a baby in you,” he whispered against her neck. “One that binds you to me forever. Not just the girls. Ours.”

She choked on a sob.

“No…”

“Sí, mi cielo,” (Yes my Heaven) he said, cradling her face. “You’ll cry, and I’ll kiss it away. You’ll break, and I’ll make you whole again.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers—soft at first, then deeper, slower, full of heat and false comfort.

“And when I’m inside you,” he murmured darkly, “you’ll finally understand—this is where you were always meant to be.”

The sun crept over the horizon like it was ashamed to shine.

Y/N stirred beneath heavy blankets, the scent of smoke and musk still clinging to the sheets. Her body ached—not from passion, but from surrender. Her skin bore the memory of his hands, his mouth, his weight.

Her mind tried to retreat, to convince her it had been a dream.

But the soreness between her legs told the truth.

And when she reached down, heart hammering, she found herself bare beneath the sheets.

No underwear.

No protection.

Her stomach twisted. Her throat closed.

A soft clang echoed down the hall—the sound of dishes in the kitchen. Laughter. Childish and bright.

The twins.

Her chest caved in on itself.

She sat up slowly, each movement stiff, like her bones had aged a decade overnight. Her legs trembled as she stood and pulled on the silk robe draped over the foot of the bed—the one he left for her.

She didn’t want to see him.

But she had no choice.

The kitchen was glowing with morning light. The table was full—eggs, toast, fruit, pancakes stacked high. The twins were already eating, their little legs swinging under the chairs.

And Santiago?

Santiago stood at the stove, flipping pancakes like he hadn’t stolen something from her the night before.

He wore a loose shirt, sleeves rolled up, forearms tattooed and dusted with flour. He looked over his shoulder when she entered—and smiled.

“Buenos días, mi amor.” (Good morning, my love)

She froze in the doorway.

Isabela turned. “Miss Y/N! Daddy made your favorite!”

Camila beamed. “He said you needed rest after your special night.”

Her breath hitched.

Santiago walked over, pressing a warm kiss to her temple like a husband greeting his wife. She flinched.

“You slept well, no?” he whispered. “You were beautiful.”

She didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

The girls didn’t notice. They giggled and argued over syrup. Santiago pulled out a chair for her and gestured for her to sit.

“Eat,” he said gently. “You need your strength.”

“For what?” she murmured.

He looked down at her stomach.

“For the baby, of course.”

Her blood ran cold.

“Santiago—”

“We’ll confirm soon, but I know your body now,” he said softly, brushing hair from her face. “It welcomed me.”

Her eyes flooded with tears.

And he smiled.

“Don’t cry, mi vida,” (My Life) he cooed, bending down so only she could hear. “You’re mine now. All the way through.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“But you didn’t say no loud enough, did you?”

He kissed her lips gently, possessively. Then turned back to the stove, whistling.

And Y/N?

She sat in silence, her fork untouched, her heart unraveling with every sweet giggle from the girls beside her.

She didn’t know how to escape.

And she didn’t know if she ever would.

The villa was a gilded cage, each opulent detail a testament to Santiago's influence. Y/N moved through the halls, her senses heightened by the ever-present awareness of him. His gaze, intense and unyielding, seemed to follow her even in his absence.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in hues of amber and shadow, Santiago approached her. His movements were deliberate, each step echoing with intent. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, the touch both tender and possessive.

"You belong here," he murmured, his voice a velvety caress. "With me."

Y/N's heart raced, a tumultuous blend of fear and something she couldn't—or wouldn't—name. She searched his eyes, seeking answers, but found only the reflection of her own uncertainty.

Days turned into nights, the passage of time marked by the subtle shifts in Santiago's demeanor. He was a master of contrasts—charming yet menacing, gentle yet unyielding. His gestures of affection were laced with an undercurrent of control, each act a thread weaving her tighter into his web.

He would present her with gifts: a delicate necklace that felt more like a collar, a dress that fit a little too perfectly. When she hesitated, his eyes would darken, the air between them thick with unspoken expectations.

"Wear it for me," he'd say, the words both a request and a command.

Y/N would comply, the lines between choice and coercion blurring with each passing day.

Santiago's touch was a study in contradictions. A brush of his fingers along her arm would send shivers down her spine, a mix of apprehension and reluctant anticipation. He had an uncanny ability to sense her reactions, using them to further entangle her in his grasp.

One night, as a storm raged outside, mirroring the turmoil within her, Santiago found her standing by the window. He approached silently, his presence enveloping her. Without a word, he draped a shawl over her shoulders, his hands lingering a moment too long.

"You shouldn't stand in the cold," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

Y/N closed her eyes, the battle between her mind and body waging a silent war. She knew she was teetering on the edge of a precipice, one step away from falling into an abyss from which there was no return.

Y/N's world had become a labyrinth of shadows, each corridor echoing with Santiago's presence. His influence was suffocating, a constant reminder of the control he wielded over her life. She moved through the days in a haze, the boundaries between her desires and fears blurring into obscurity.

One evening, as the weight of her reality pressed heavily upon her, Y/N found herself standing before the grand piano in the parlor—a relic of a life she once knew. Her fingers hovered above the keys, the urge to play battling with the fear of drawing his attention.

"You play?" Santiago's voice sliced through the silence, making her jump.

She turned to find him leaning against the doorway, his gaze piercing and unreadable.

"I used to," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

He approached, the air thickening with each step he took. Standing beside her, he reached out, his fingers grazing the keys.

"Play for me," he commanded softly, yet the undertone brooked no argument.

Y/N hesitated, the conflict raging within her. But defiance felt futile under his watchful eyes. She acquiesced, her fingers finding a melody that spoke of longing and loss.

As the notes filled the room, Santiago watched her intently, a predatory satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He reveled in her compliance, each chord a testament to his dominion over her.

Days bled into nights, the passage of time marked by Santiago's relentless pursuit to mold Y/N into the image he desired. He presented choices that were mere illusions, each path leading to his intended destination.

"Come, sit with me," he would say, patting the space beside him.

Y/N knew refusal wasn't an option. She complied, the proximity a constant reminder of the chains that bound her.

He would drape an arm around her, the weight both protective and possessive.

"See how well you fit here," he'd murmur, his lips close to her ear. "This is where you belong."

Y/N's heart would race, a cacophony of dread and a betrayal of something else she couldn't name. She was ensnared in his web, each thread spun with calculated precision.

Amidst the suffocating control, a spark of defiance flickered within Y/N. She yearned for a semblance of autonomy, a breath of air untainted by his influence. One afternoon, seizing a rare moment of solitude, she reached for her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed a familiar number.

"Dad," she whispered urgently when he answered. "I don't have much time. I need—"

The line went dead.

Her blood ran cold.

"What do you need, mi amor?" Santiago's voice was a velvet-covered blade behind her.

She turned slowly, the phone slipping from her grasp as she met his gaze—dark, stormy, and laced with a dangerous amusement.

"I—"

"You what?" He stepped closer, each movement deliberate. "You thought you could reach out? Seek help?"

Y/N's breath hitched, fear coiling around her throat.

"There's no escape," he continued, his tone a chilling caress. "You are mine. Mind, body, and soul."

He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, a mockery of tenderness.

"Don't make me remind you what happens when you disobey."

Tears welled in her eyes, the weight of her reality crashing down upon her.

"Please," she implored, though she wasn't sure what she was begging for.

Santiago's smile was devoid of warmth.

"Good girl," he purred, turning away, leaving her standing amidst the shards of her fleeting rebellion.

The morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting a muted glow across the opulent bedroom. Y/N stirred, the events of the previous night flooding back with unsettling clarity. Santiago's whispered promises still echoed in her mind, blurring the lines between coercion and affection.

Before she could fully gather her thoughts, the door creaked open, and the twins, Camila and Isabela, bounded in with infectious energy.

"¡Mami! ¡Mami!" they chimed in unison, their faces alight with innocent joy.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. Mami. The word hung in the air, laden with implications she wasn't prepared to confront. She forced a smile, pulling the sheets tighter around herself.

"Good morning, my loves," she replied softly, her voice betraying the turmoil beneath.

The girls clambered onto the bed, nestling beside her, their warmth both comforting and confining. As they recounted their dreams and plans for the day, Y/N's mind raced. Was this her new role? Had she been seamlessly integrated into a life she hadn't chosen?

Later that morning, as Y/N attempted to navigate her conflicting emotions, a commotion echoed from the grand foyer. Her father's voice, laced with anger and desperation, resonated through the halls.

"Where is my daughter?" he demanded, his footsteps approaching.

Y/N's pulse quickened. She hurried to dress, her hands trembling, and made her way downstairs. At the base of the staircase stood her father, his face flushed with concern, and Santiago, exuding his usual composed dominance.

"Papa," Y/N began, her voice wavering.

"Y/N, what is going on here?" her father implored, eyes darting between her and Santiago. "I received your message. Are you alright?"

Santiago interjected smoothly.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding," he said, placing a possessive hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Your daughter is safe and well cared for."

Her father bristled, shrugging off Santiago's attempt at reassurance.

"I want to hear it from her," he insisted, his gaze piercing.

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

"Papa, I... I'm fine," she managed, though her eyes betrayed her uncertainty.

Santiago's grip tightened subtly, a silent reminder of his control.

"You see?" he said, a thin smile playing on his lips. "There's no need for concern."

Recognizing the futility of direct confrontation, Santiago shifted tactics, his tone dripping with feigned warmth.

"I understand your apprehension," he began, guiding Y/N's father toward the sitting room. "As a gesture of goodwill, I invite you to stay with us. There's a private wing where you can reside, ensuring you're close to your daughter."

Y/N's father narrowed his eyes, suspicion etched into his features.

"And why would you offer that?"

Santiago's smile widened, though it lacked genuine warmth.

"Family is paramount," he replied smoothly. "Having you here would provide Y/N with comfort and allow you to see firsthand the life we are building together."

Caught between his protective instincts and the precariousness of the situation, Y/N's father reluctantly agreed.

"Very well," he conceded, though his tone remained guarded. "But know this, Santiago—I will be watching."

Santiago inclined his head, the picture of graciousness.

"As you should," he murmured, his eyes glinting with unspoken intent.

The estate smelled like smoke and spice—charcoal, grilled carne, roasted peppers—and laughter echoed through the courtyard like a song Y/N didn’t know the words to. Santiago’s family had gathered in full force. Cousins, sisters, uncles, everyone dressed casual, warm, familiar, loud in a way that reminded her of a life she didn’t belong to. Yet here she was—Santiago’s woman, his prize, his captive playing house under a sweltering sun.

She wore a pale sundress. His choice.

Her father was seated stiffly in the shade, watching everything with narrowed eyes. He smiled when spoken to, but it never touched his soul. He hadn’t stopped watching her since they arrived.

She hadn’t stopped pretending.

The twins clung to her legs as she carried a bowl of sliced fruit toward the outdoor table. “Miss Y/N, we helped cut the mangoes!” they chirped, proud and sticky with juice.

Y/N smiled—genuine, small. “They’re perfect, baby.”

Santiago sat at the head of the table, laughing, his hands spread wide in some story she couldn’t hear. When his eyes flicked to her, his smile changed. Darkened. Possessive. Like he was imagining more than just the meal.

And then it hit her.

A sour twist in her stomach.

A cold sweat along her spine.

The bowl slipped from her fingers and shattered on the patio tiles. Fruit splattered like bright blood.

Silence followed—then the twins gasped.

“Mommy’s sick!” one cried, tugging her arm. “She’s gonna throw up!”

Y/N staggered, covering her mouth. Someone touched her shoulder—soft, perfumed—Santiago’s mother.

“Come, mija,” (Come Daughter) Doña Valeria said, voice low and careful. “Let’s take you inside.”

The bathroom was cool and quiet, tucked behind the guest rooms. Marble counters, gold fixtures, too polished. Y/N gripped the sink until her knuckles turned white, chest heaving. Her reflection looked pale. Sweaty. Her pupils too wide.

The door clicked behind her.

Doña Valeria entered first, closing the door gently. Then came two sisters—Catta and Marcela—each quiet, serious.

“You’re not just sick,” Catta said, watching her closely.

Y/N didn’t speak.

Marcela crossed the room, opened the cabinet beneath the sink, and handed her a white stick in a pink box.

“We have four children between us,” she said. “We know the signs.”

Y/N’s hands trembled as she took it.

The bathroom was silent while they waited.

When the second line bloomed faint but unmistakable, Y/N sank onto the closed toilet lid, her heart crawling into her throat.

Doña Valeria didn’t gasp or cry out. She only smiled—soft and sharp all at once.

“A blessing,” she whispered. “Santiago will be thrilled.”

Y/N stared at the test.

Catta crouched in front of her, voice gentle. “We’ll help you. You’re one of us now.”

Y/N blinked. “This wasn’t supposed to happen…”

Doña Valeria leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Of course it was. Everything is as he planned.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted harder than any morning sickness. The sisters hugged her tight—not warm, not cruel, just firm. Contained.

And then Marcela said what sealed her fate:

“We’ll start planning the wedding next week.”

By the next morning, the women had already begun molding her into what they called la verdadera esposa. The real wife. Not the kind that questions or leads. The kind that obeys.

The kitchen became her training ground.

The chapel, her altar of silence.

Every day, she woke to the same routine: her hair brushed smooth, her clothes handpicked by Santiago’s sisters—tight at the waist, soft at the thighs, showing off what belonged to their brother. They wrapped her body in lace and satin, called her mujercita, praised her for learning how to kneel while serving cafecito without looking anyone in the eye.

“It’s our way,” Marcela explained, placing a rosary over Y/N’s palms. “We serve. We smile. We submit.”

Even Doña Valeria pulled her aside one afternoon in the garden, her tone honey-sweet but bone-deep in warning.

“You’re the flower in his garden now, Y/N. You grow where he plants you. And you bloom for no one else.”

Y/N nodded.

But something in her withered.

The men didn’t help in the kitchen. They didn’t change diapers. They didn’t apologize. They ruled.

Machismo bled from every crack in the house—unspoken, sharp-edged, normalized. Santiago’s male cousins whistled when she walked by. His uncles clapped him on the back and said things in Spanish she didn’t fully understand but could feel sink into her skin like rot.

Even her father—her own father—sat beside Santiago like an obedient guest, sipping whiskey and saying things like “maybe this is what she needs—structure.”

Y/N wanted to scream. But all she did was smile.

And learn.

And serve.

She memorized his favorite meals. How he liked his towels folded. How to iron his shirts, wax his shoes, swallow her protests.

She became so small she couldn’t recognize her own voice anymore.

But at night… he was tender.

It made it worse.

He would come into their room, watch her undress slowly in the dim lamplight, and say things like:

“You’re glowing, mi vida. Motherhood makes you divine.”

He’d press a kiss to her belly—then to her lips—then pull her into his lap like she was breakable porcelain.

He massaged her shoulders until she melted.

Rubbed her swollen feet while whispering filth in her ear.

“No one else gets this, Y/N. No one else sees you like I do. No one else deserves you.”

And every time her mouth trembled with a protest; he kissed her so deep she forgot what she wanted to say.

He made love to her like he worshipped her.

But it wasn’t love.

It was ownership, sealed with tenderness, coated in devotion.

A leash made of rose petals.

And she smiled.

Because if she didn’t… she might scream.

[the-broken-truth]

Romantic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Alternate Wife Spider Reader [Part 2]

Summary: After meeting the strange copy of your partner on the streets, you return to your office to ask your partner if he has a twin brother but what he tells you is even more terrifying than you could have ever hoped for.

Part One

[Earth-654B - New York Detective Agency]

Concentrated brown eyes looked through glasses lens at the computer screen while fast fingers typed upon the surface of the keyboard, watching the words as they appeared on the screen. A large hand left the keyboard and brushed back the hair of the man's head before returning to typing with a nod and a smirk on his face. This man was Miguel O'Hara - your partner in the Detective Agency. The Client just left a little while ago and he was updating the case file with the images you sent to him before he reached for his coffee cup and sipped the brown liquid before setting it back on the coaster. This was going to be an open-and-shut case - with all this evidence, the wife was going to sue the pants right off her husband and his mistress...or mistresses if it was discovered that he had more than one.

The door opened across from him and his hands came to a halt before he looked up from the screen toward the door - watching as it opened - before you walked in with a rather confused look on his face and another cup of Mocha Latte in your hand before closing the door, setting the cup on your desk before taking off your coat and placing it on the coat rack before taking the cup back in your hands and taking a seat at your desk.

"Hey, [Name]. You alright? You seem rather distracted this morning." Miguel asked as he took off his glasses - revealing his chocolate brown eyes that were full of concern for you. You looked at him and exhaled before you open your mouth to speak.

"This may be hard to believe but I ran into someone who looked just like you earlier this morning but he had red eyes instead of brown and he was claiming to be from another universe and that I was his wife. I told him that he had the wrong person but he was insistent so I just left him." You looked into Miguel's eyes, "Miguel, you don't have any older twin brothers, do you?"

"No...but I do believe you because I met him last night." Miguel said as he looked down at his bandaged hand, placing his good hand over it, you looked at your partner's hand, just now noticing that he was harmed - you were rather protective of Miguel; you were friends since you were infants and you were going to raise hell on anyone who hurt him but he just said that he met the man you saw today?

"What do you mean you saw him last night? What happened to your hand. Miguel?" You asked as he looked down at his keyboard before looking at you.

"Last night, when I was on my way to my apartment; the landlord was confused to see me because he just saw me going into my apartment; I was on high guard because I was the only one with a key to my apartment. I opened the apartment door and walked inside with y hands on my taser but I was attacked from behind and thrown to the ground before my hand was stepped on. I looked up at the man who attacked me and it was me - I was looking back at myself with red eyes and he looked at me and told me: "I won't let you take [Name] away from me - she and Isabela will be mine again"; then he stomped on my hand until it broke and left out of the door." Miguel explained.

"Why didn't you tell the police?" You asked him.

"What was I supposed to tell them? I saw another version of myself and it threatened me to stay away from my best friend and partner at work? They would have laughed me out of the station. Besides, I'm sure that we can handle this as Spider-Man and Spider-Woman when we go on patrol tonight. Let's focus on the case right now, what did you find out?" Miguel asked as she looked at his computer.

"The Target was definitely cheating on his wife, I followed him to one of his mistresses' house and he greeted her with a kiss at the front door." You said as you logged into the computer before you heard the phone ringing, you reached over and grabbed it off the receiver, and held it to your ear. "Detective Agency, [Name] Speaking. How can I help you?"

"Working as a detective, Mi Amor? I guess that never changed with you."

That voice.

"How did you get this number?" You growled into the phone.

"That's not important. I know that you are talking to that other version of me - the one with the broken hand. I want you to stay away from him - don't get too attached to him."

"I'm not listening to a damn thing you say. You aren't my husband and I will make you pay for what you did to my best friend if I ever see your face again." You warned him.

"We'll see about that, Mi Amor. I know your secret and I shall have you back if you know what is good for you. Just give yourself to me and everything will be alright."

"Go the hell, asshole." You hung up.

"Who was that?" Miguel asked.

"You'll find out tonight." That was all you said before you started to get back to work.

[lauren-likes-to-type]

Masterlist

[Below is a list of separate masterlists for every character/game/franchise I write for, including miscellaneous requests. Everything is alphabetized.]

Rules for requests are here. Please read them first.

Arcane

Includes: Jinx

Attack On Titan

Includes: Annie Leonhart

BATIM / BATDR

Includes: Allison Angel, Twisted Alice/Malice Angel

Blue Eye Samurai

Includes: Mizu

Detroit: Become Human

Includes: Chloe, Kara

Doki Doki Literature Club

Includes: Monika, Natsuki, Yuri

Encanto

Includes: Isabela Madrigal, Luisa Madrigal, Mirabel Madrigal

Equestria Girls

Includes: Adagio Dazzle, Sunset Shimmer

Five Nights at Freddy's: The Movie

Includes: Vanessa Shelly

Heathers: The Musical

Includes: Heather Chandler

Inside Out 2

Includes: Valentina Ortiz

Mean Girls [2004]

Includes: Janis Ian

Raya and the Last Dragon

Includes: Raya

Resident Evil Village

Includes: Bela Dimitrescu, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, Rosemary Winters

She-Ra and the Princess of Power

Includes: Adora

Stardew Valley

Includes: Abigail, Haley, Leah

Steven Universe / SU Future

Includes: Lapis Lazuli, Pearl, Spinel

The Owl House

Includes: Amity Blight, Boscha

Tomb Raider [Survivor Trilogy]

Includes: Lara Croft

Until Dawn

Includes: Samantha Giddings

Win or Lose

Includes: Kai, Laurie, Rochelle

Yandere Simulator

Includes: Ayano Aishi

Miscellaneous

Includes: Amanda [Amanda the Adventurer], Cassie [FNAF Security Breach Ruin], Elsa [Frozen], Regina George [2024]

[zoguy1]

So. Every June, I try to challenge myself by posting something for Pride Month. For the past couple years, it's been ships with cute little pride flags. This year, the priority focus will be on the Trolls Summer Gift exchange. But at the very least I'd like to show ya'll the ones I've made in the past.

2022 bundle:

Bi Hiccup x Gay Jack. Fun fact: This was the first gay couple I've ever laid my eyes on as a young child. I saw this ship and thought "I want that kind of relationship."

Bi Tony x Gay Rudolph Watching the 2017 movie, these two reminded me of Luca and Alberto so much.

Aro Merida You get it? Cuz she's an archer. It's funny. Laugh.

Bi Nan Fang x Ace Fu Yao The headcannon was based off of a fanfic I read a while ago.

Demi Ace Xie Lian x Gay Hua Cheng. I sevearly enjoyed the series. I occasionally eat fics of these two as comfort foods.

Pan Xu Xuan x Trans Xiao Bai White snake was basically 2 hours of "What you are doesn't matter, it's who you are that matters", THEE Pansexual anthem, and then the second movie Turned Blanca into a guy? This is cannon.

Ace Liu Qingge x Bi Shen Yuan Imma be honest. I didn't like SVSSS very much. Yandere's are not my cup of tea. And I was really hoping Shizun would have gotten with Liu-shidi instead.

Gay Luca x Gay Alberto I'm so glad Luberto was actually confirmed to be somewhat cannon. Though Nowadays I see Luca as bi, cuz if we're counting the concept art as apart of the lore, then Luca had a crush on both Alberto and Giulia.

Gay Jade x Gay Katie. Kate is the first character I actually felt scene as a queer person.

Genderfluid Shi Qingxuan I freaking love them so much. Easily my favorite character.

Aro Nezha This kid knows chaos and only chaos.

Pan Adam x Gray Ace Freddy I saw this crossover on DA and thought they made so much sense together. Adam the literal personification of nature, and Freddy the unification of humanity and animals.

Non-Binary Merz x Lesbian Alice These two are OCs of mine.

Aro Lesbian Isabela and Aro Lesbian Elsa. I ship this in a sort of queer platonic way. Like a "we don't really want to date people, but everyone thinks we're dating, and we just don't care enough to correct them." kind of way.

Genderfluid Camilo I want the ability to shapeshift so badly.

Pan Ao Bing x Bi Xiao Jiu Ya'll get brownie points if you know which Ao Bing this is and double points if you know who Xiao Jiu is. Lol. It was a random crossover ship I made because the company liked to crossover their medias for advertisements, and we see the adults interacting and having fun, and Nezha joins them. But we don't see the two teenagers interact at all.

Bi Verta x Bi Li Yunxiang Another crossover ship I made up cuz I didn't see a lot of Nezha Reborn and White Snake crossovers. Which surprised me, especially after Green Snake.

Gay Jiang Ziya x Gay Shen Gongbao These two lived in the same house together for 10 years and adopted a daughter together. I am convinced these two are a married couple.

Bi Mirabel There was a little bisexual rainbow on her dress. That's proof enough for me. Lol.

Lesbian Amaya x Lesbian Janai I loved seeing their dynamic in the show.

Non-Binary Kazi I love them. I'm glad they got more attention in the show.

Lesbian Susie x Trans Noelle "Why does Noelle have antlers. Is she trans? The Null the Null the Null the Null..."

Non-Binary Kris I love them. They literally never said a word, and I love them.

AroAce Krel Based on a comic I made.

Aro Blaze Another OC.

Aro Douxie Idk why, but I get that vibe from him.

2023 Pack:

Furry Omni Toby x Furry Demigirl Darci The moment Darci said she didn't want people to like her just because she was a girl, I felt that in my soul.

Bi Steve x Pan Aja I am not convinced Steve is straight.

Pan Simon x Gay Ao Bing This ship was inspired by a youtube video that had a list of crossover ships, this being on of them. And I freaking love it.

AroAce Sun Wukong and AroAce Tang Sanzang In Monkey King Reborn, out of everyone in the friend group, you can just tell that these two cared about each other the most. And I think that's just sweet.

Fuck. I can only have 30 images per post. I'll reblog with the rest of the 2023 pack.

[bittcnneck]

Because my carrd does not look good on computer and I can't edit it, I decided to move it over to a regular Tumblr post.

About Me

Hello! My name is Pucca. I'm a 27 year old semi-literate roleplayer. I go by all the pronouns, but I would appriciate if you used she-her. Doesn't matter, though. I have 6 years of roleplay experience. English is not my first language, so bare with me please!

FNF MUSES:

Pico

Gf (Cherry)

Bf (Keith)

Sarvante

Ruv

Garcello

Mommy dearest

Daddy dearest

Tankman

Senpai

ENCANTO MUSES:

Isabela

Camilo

Mirabel

Julieta

Antonio

OBEY ME! MUSES:

Lucifer

Diavolo

Asmodeus

Yuki (MC)

SCP MUSES:

Scp 049

Scp 035

Scp 999

Scp 079

Scp 2599

HAZBIN HOTEL MUSES:

Charlie Morningstar

Carmilla Carmine

Emily

Lucifer Morningstar

Rosie

Lilith (testing)

YANDERE SIMULATOR MUSES:

Kokona Haruka

Amai Odayaka

Musume Ronshaku

SPIDERMAN MUSES:

Miles Morales

Hobie Brown

DETROIT BECOME HUMAN MUSES:

Connor

Markus

OTHER MUSES:

Chloe

EPİC THE MUSİCAL MUSES:

Circe

Aeolus

Calypso

Penelope

Telemachus

Francis mosses, the milkman (that's not my neighbor) he has an ask blog, @ask-themilkman ! Please follow!

Louis (uglydolls)

Salad fingers

Rae Kim (but you seem fine)

Fade (valorant)

Lacey (Lacey's flash games) (HH AU) (squid game AU)

Ali Abdul (Squid Game)

Jumin Han (Mystic Messanger)

Ayane shiun (porkchop 'n flatscreen)

OCS:

Kiera (SCP OC)

Akihiko (ALPHA MAFIA OC, no fandom)

Len (OMEGA OC, no fandom)

Amelia (CATGIRL OC, no fandom)

Markus Miller (papers please inspector oc)

Iriana (p⭐ oc) has a blog, @rcbbitpure , please follow 💗

RULES:

- if you have a password, I'll only send it in after we become mutuals to make sure you are interested in rping with me, so I don't just send the password while I only follow you 😅 but be sure that I do read the rules.

- I don't drop threads unless it's obvious that it's finished! Don't worry. If I'm not feeling a thread, I will let you know. I hate waiting for so long to just learn that it's not gonna be answered, it's a little annoying and I wish to be told sooner, so I do that. If I don't reply within a week I most likely forgot, so feel free to remind me! I am pretty active, so I will not be upset. In worst case, I'm not feeling it at the moment but that does not mean I dropped it! If I decide to drop it, I'll tell you!

- please do not reblog my open starters if we're not mutuals. You can like, I don't mind.

- I sadly have no bios up for all of my OCS yet, but I plan on making them very soon! If you are interested though please let me know. Also, I love OCS! So please feel free to send me asks by yours!

- personals, You can follow, I do not block, but I am not interested in rping with you, sorry. You can send anons and like my posts though!

- if I'm interacting with a person involved in drama, feel free to reach out to me with proofs! Because I probably didn't know. Please, do not block me because I'm interacting with someone problematic. I mean of course I can't tell you to not block me or not but I mean, if that is your ONLY reason. Please message. Make sure if I know or don't know the shit they did. If they are problematic I most likely will not interact with them.

- I don't do passwords, but you can let me know you read them by telling me if you are ok with pet names or not! I'm big on pet names, I often call people dear, honey, sweetie, babe. If you message me saying I'm good with them or not, this will let me know you read my rules AND let's me make sure I don't cross boundaries if you prefer not to be called pet names!

- no minors. This blog will cover triggering themes. Nsfw will be present. And although everything gets tagged accordingly, I don't want to open that scene to minors. So please even if you follow me, don't interact with me.

- rest are easy, do not follow if you are racist, homophobic, pedophile, a piece of shit basically.

Looking forward to interacting with all of you!

[midnightlee25]

Random Yandere Headcanons: Would they be friends first or get straight to the point (Encanto)

Start out as friends: 

Julieta Madrigal 

Bruno Madrigal 

Agustín Madrigal 

Félix Madrigal 

Luisa Madrigal 

   Eager but can wait (really wants their darling but must wait or thinks that they are already together): 

Pepa Madrigal (she will be very salty about it.) 

Isabela Madrigal 

Mirabel Madrigal 

Camilo Madrigal 

   Straight to the point: 

Dolores Madrigal 

[deusexlachina]

Wannabe Warden Part 17: Utterly humiliate the Grey Wardens with my superior darkspawn-slaying skills

In which I am still not deemed worthy of the Grey Wardens despite saving three of them, plus another of Warden Morwen's friends.

After melting enemies left and right with the superior and better one-handed axe, I quickly rack up a vast fortune. Naturally, I spend almost all of it on more equipment to make me even stronger - Four-Fingered Eddie's Lucky Talisman. Unlike in Origins, most items have no description, so I can only imagine he's Four-Fingered Eddie because the amulet gave him so many critical hits he cut his finger clean off slicing onions.

This goes well with the other piece of crit-tastic murder jewellery I spent the rest of my money on back in Act 2 - the puzzle ring of...the BLACK FOX! AHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Unlike poor Four-Fingered Eddie, there are codex entries describing who the Black Fox is and what his puzzle rings might be, but why read the book when you can watch the movie? With these magic charms and a good head start, only the sprightliest sprite, the nimblest elf, the wickedest witch or the devil himself can withstand my near-constant stream of critical hits. Speaking of critical hits and the nimblest elf, I encounter Zevran, Warden Morwen's murderin' chum. Anders recognizes him. From the stories. They never actually fought together.

Zevran explains that he's being hunted by the Antivan Crows, again, despite the fact that Warden Morwen did several jobs for the Crows in exchange for them backing off from her, the Couslands, and Zevran in particular. Maybe these Crows are a splinter group, or maybe assassins tell lies to people.

Unfortunately for the Crows, they're the "Coterie" enemy type, which is weak to spirit damage, aka the purple numbers that cloud the air whenever I look at someone funny. Worse, with my newfound knowledge of one-handers, I respec Other Aveline into a pure DPS battering ram and hand her the other, only slightly less broken, spirit axe. What's she trying to do, steal my look? Some people. Anyway, we win, and Zevran has a reward for me.

I'm excited now. As a good friend of the Warden-Commander, Zevran would make an excellent job reference for Being A Grey Warden. Unfortunately, the reward is a dagger, which is already obsolete because only Isabela can use them and she has better ones. Isabela is so insulted at this vendor trash that she asks for makeup sex despite unilaterally claiming me as a girlfriend. But threesomes are Isabela's hobby, so I oblige my yandere pirate lover and she gets to be stuck in a compromising position between two deadly fighters, which is usually how combat with her turns out.

Other Aveline sees us propositioning each other and throws up a little in her mouth that we're talking about having sex with each other right in front of her. It's an easy mistake, I thought she didn't mind that kind of thing since she asked me to vicariously seduce her direct subordinate, and no, she is not living that down three years later.

I'm thinking more clearly now, but I'm not satisfied, and not just because Zevran kept crying out "I still remember MY first battle! Hahaha!" But I get another chance to prove myself to the Wardens. Warden Nathaniel Howe, who is moderately nicer than his dad who killed Morwen's family, is missing in the Deep Roads, so I go rescue him.

This is more difficult than I remember because these aren't your average, everyday, darkspawn. These are advanced darkspawn. I wonder who made this sidequest so overtuned before I remember that it was me, because I thought it would be fun to have both Nightmare Ultra difficulty and nastier darkspawn. It's just like the escape from Lothering. Except this time, the roles are reversed. I can do thousands of damage in a second, so it's their turn to run screaming from me.

This is for Wesley! This is for all three of my buddies who got mangled trying to keep up with the dozens of advanced darkspawn I'm mowing down! And, most of all...this is for Carver!

But I'm not the only one avenging Carver. Bethany is also here, fighting the good fight. Unfortunately, she's not doing as well as she does with me, because the Wardens unwisely armed her with a fire staff. Curiously, she gets a nature staff exclusively if she's not a Warden, despite nature being twice as effective as fire against darkspawn. See, this is why Bethany needs me. And why the Wardens need me.

She introduces me as her sister. (Or I WAS her sister...before she got THE BLIGHT!!!) I miss her, but she can't let herself miss the family.

Once again, she manages to make everyone feel uncomfortable - not just with her bleak words, but also by steadily zooming in on her face, closer and closer. JUST LIKE THE TAINT IN HER VEINS.

But I have saved her life, and that of Nathaniel. And some other guy who made bombs that were supposed to help fight the darkspawn but these ones are so powerful that explosives barely tickle them. Because of me, Nathaniel will see his sister and nephew again. And - seeing how I wiped out the darkspawn more than ten times faster than all three actual Wardens present - he has a fitting reward for me.

I reach out my hand, waiting for a notice of Conscription, and receive a longsword, which is already obsolete because only people named Aveline can use longswords and we both have much better weapons already.

[shadowmythe]

ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝔾𝕦𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤

✮ Request a character for a fanfic through the Google Form (request here) or send me an ask

✮ If you send me an ask please specify the character, the type of format your looking for (or if you want me to choose) and a brief description of what you want

✮ If you send a request don't expect it to be posted quickly

✮ I reserve the right to refuse to write any request I feel uncomfortable with

✮ Request a shifting script through the Google Form (request here)

✮ For shifting scripts I DO NOT TAKE ASKS IT IS EXCLUSIVELY THROUGH THE GOOGLE FORM

✮ Scripts for media I am not familiar with may take me longer to make as I have to research to fully create the script

What I Will Write

✮ I am open to writing nsfw content

✮ I will write: fluff and smut

✮ I write for:

My Hero Academia (Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Kyoka Jiro, Mina Ashido, Momo Yaoyurozu, Itsuka Kendo, Keigo Takami/Hawks)

Disney/Pixar (Valentina "Val" Ortiz, GoGo Tomago, Maya Hart, Sasha Waybright, Emira Blight, Wendy Corduroy, Isabela Madrigal)

Marvel (Wanda Maximoff, Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Natasha Romanoff, America Chavez)

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (Edward Elric, Winry Rockbell, Riza Hawkeye, Olivier Mira Hawkeye, Roy Mustang)

Scream (Kirby Reed, Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter)

The Disasterous Life of Saiki K (Kusuo Saiki, Kokomi Teruhashi)

Stranger Things (Robin Buckley, Max Mayfield)

Ouran High School Host Club (Kyoya Ootori, Haruhi Fujioka)

Grey's Anatomy (Reed Adamson, Lexi Grey)

The Hunger Games (Johanna Mason, Katniss Everdeen)

Shadowhunter Chronicles (Tessa Gray, Cecily Herondale, Sophie Collins, Anna Lightwood, Cordelia Carstairs, Isabelle Lightwood, Clary Fairchild, Helen Blackthorn, Aline Penhallow, Cristina Mendoza Rosales, Emma Carstairs)

She-Ra Princesses of Power (Mermista, Adora, Glimmer, Spinerella, Netossa, Mara)

How To Train Your Dragon (Astrid Hofferson, Heather)

Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children (Enoch, Emma)

Bridgerton (Daphne, Eloise, Francesca)

Life Is Strange (Chloe Price, Max Mayfield)

Carmen Sandiego (Carmen, Ivy, Jules)

Arcane (Caitlyn, Vi)

The Last of Us (Ellie, Dina, Abby)

✮ You can try asking for additional characters outside those listed above but I won't guarantee I will write for them

✮ All of my yns are fem presenting and afab but are written with they/them pronouns

What I Won't Write

✮ I don't write angst very often

✮ I don't write rape, yandere, pedophelia, suicide, self harm, hybrid, abuse or non-con/dub-con (I will write for consensual non-consent)

𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 | 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪-𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵

updated 14/04/2025

© 2025 all rights reserved to shadowmythe. Do not modify, repost, or claim works as yours. Do not plagerize. Ask before sharing on any other form of social media.

[dollmoth-productions]

Can you do yandere platonic madrigals with 10 year old reader on Pepa’s side?Here are facts about reader.Her gift is ice, water and snow.She had a good relationship with camilo until she got her gift.Gets in trouble with Abuela and pepa a lot. Bosses Antonio around. Thinks she’s better then mirabel because she doesn’t have a gift and treats her badly. Mostly likes isabela and always says to camilo how bad of a brother he is?

I’m sorry to say I no longer do Encanto! I am sorry once again

[grimyandereencantosimp]

I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but could you please do a yandere Isabella and Camilo and Dolores with a female darling that looks and has the personality of yui komori from diabolic lovers

And could you please do head cannons but if you're not taking a requests that's fine feel free to ignore this one

(I apologize if this sucks, I haven't really heard of this chracter before. But I will do my best at this lol!)

Yandere Isabela, Dolores, and Camilo with a Fem! Yui Komori! Reader

(I know this is more of a family madrigal gif, but its the only one I could find with all three lol.)

Tw: Overprotective yandere, slightly clingy yandere, jealous yandere, unhealthy obsession, yandere themes.

When the three saw you, they had to have you.

You were the cutest thing to them!

They also loved your cheerful personailty.

After gaining the courage, they decided to talk to you.

It couldn't of gotten better then this for them.

Once they get to know you better they're all over you.

They of course, get jealous of eachother.

Isabela Is so overprotective of you.

Always making sure your safe all the time.

Dolores is probably the most jealous out of the three.

She can't help but feel envy when she sees you with someone else.

She also loves how optimistic you are!

Camilo Is so romantic when it comes to you.

He loves to give you flowers and such.

Just to make sure you're happy.

In the end, the three love you regardless.

(Again, sorry if this sucked!)

[sleepingdeath-light]

Romantic/sexual yandere Isabella Madrigal

Yandere Headcanons | Isabela Madrigal (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as gender neutral

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

isabela has spent a lifetime crafting a perfect facade of gentle femininity and grace; being the golden child, an example of perfection incarnate and a loving friend to everyone in the village

she has dozens of admirers and suitors knocking at the door and she entertains them all politely but keeps her distance because she only wants you

you are the only person to treat her as a person, to see her as an individual rather than an extension of her family or her powers — to see isabela rather than the madrigal’s favourite member

and she naturally became obsessed with you — having dolores listen in to every conversation you have, every whisper and rumour and private moment made known to her by her dear cousin (who only complies to keep her away from her crush)

she knows you like the back of her hand: your favourite colour, what you ate each day, your kinks and fetishes and fantasies

all of them belong to her — but she buries that deep down behind her facade of friendly interest and begins methodically building up a friendship with you through all of these (not-so-)coincidences in your interests and locations

but friendship isn’t enough and as she continues stalking you she starts to fall into an obsessive twisted sort of love with you and does everything in her power to make sure you return her feelings

everything from gifts to flirting to hinting at all of your fantasies under a guise of innocent self exploration

and when she gets tired of small hints, she uses her plants to make you continuously ill past the point that even her mother’s cooking won’t do much as you keep reverting back a day later

that’s when she comes to the rescue, carefully and lovingly nursing you back to health with her plants and forming an unbreakable bond with you as she’s the only one you can see out of fear of spreading your mystery illness

and after a while, once you’re back to being yourself and fully recovered, the two of you start dating — and she swears that she’d never been happier

she finally has what she wants — you — but then the paranoia kicks in and she starts to fear that you’ll be stolen away from her

of course by then the two of you are sexually active and she spends hours every evening worshipping you from head to toe, praising and complimenting you and not stopping until she’s kissed every inch of skin and you’re trembling from overstimulation

so she consoles herself by getting slightly rougher with you at times — only enough to leave marks about your neck and shoulders

anywhere that anyone else could see

hickeys and bite marks are her favourites

but in an extreme bout of paranoia, isabela summoned some thorns and carved her name into your chest and each of your inner thighs — fully marking you as her property

though by then nobody was going to see it as this was long after your marriage (a most celebrated union) and you were forbidden from leaving her room — only having herself and her dear cousin dolores for company (who never did stop apologising to you)

but she still loves and worships you, apologising for everything she’s done yet refusing to let you go — claiming she’s too selfish and you’re too pure and good for the world so she simply has to covet you

and if you continue fighting then she’ll resort to gaslighting and emotional blackmail

isn’t her love and devotion enough? do you want her to be miserable?

if you leave her she’ll take her own life and blame you for it — then you’ll be ostracised from the village and have nowhere to go and it’ll be all your fault

why do you even want to leave — it’s not like anyone out there appreciates or loves you. they didn’t even notice your absence

nobody will love you as much as her

and, eventually, it works and as is always the case, isabela madrigal got exactly what she wanted