Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they
warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative
You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.
But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.
It was love at first sight on her part.
You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.
You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.
You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.
She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.
Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.
Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.
It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."
Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.
But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...
Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.
She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.
Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid
You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.
Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.
It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.
Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?
They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.
Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.
They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.
Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.
They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.
You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.
"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.
"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.
Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive
As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.
Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.
You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.
It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.
Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.
Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.
Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.
Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.
Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.
It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.
Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy
She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.
Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?
Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.
You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.
The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.
She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."
Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless
Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.
But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.
You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.
You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.
Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.
She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.
You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.
So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.
"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."
Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,
Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.
She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.
She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."
She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.
She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.
It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.
She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.
Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.
Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.
When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?
"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"
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Leaping In
Goofy mushy thing since it’s been almost a year of writing... them✨ I’m normal! 💥🎉 (sai’s froggydacted fic part 2 teehee)
Gender neutral reader!! <- idk when i stopped saying this but it applies to everything i write fjdsakljfsla
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤
Careful of their contents, you tore away packing tape on box after box of assorted items, then scribbled a description of the items on each one. It'd taken a while, but you finally got around to moving in with your long term partner.
In your excitement to take that next step, the thought of actually labeling anything had slipped your mind during the few days off you scrambled to pack with their much needed help. So while [REDACTED] brought more and more boxes into his living room—suspiciously turning you into a prisoner from the way he piled them all around you like walls of a fort—you had to figure out what everything was to make sure nothing was forgotten from your crummy apartment. Before your landlord broke in to play finders keepers.
It was on what must’ve been the fourteenth trip back from the moving truck that he paused to watch you, setting down another few boxes to reinforce the barricade you'd just dismantled.
“That one's all your Attack on Giants merch,” he said, arms crossed and fingers drumming atop the highest peak of the cardboard castle.
You stopped halfway through opening said box in your lap, then pried it open anyway. Sure enough, it was full of manga volumes, some figurines still in display packaging, and a few Haruko plushies. One in particular that they'd bought you on that first awkward date at the pier. The poor thing was a little frayed and flat from how often you slept with it held tightly to your chest.
Uncapping the marker in your hand, you wrote ‘AoG’ on a spot where the tape wasn't too damaged. You pushed the box to the side to grab another. But he spoke again.
“Blankets,” they said about the large, flat box in front of your outstretched hand. “Dishes,” to a small one you stood up to grab from a further pile in your prison.
“Ren,” you huffed and looked up at him accusingly. “Do you already know exactly what's in all of these, then?”
“...F’the most part, yeah.” He smiled and pointedly tapped on the box under his arms. “This one's some of your other plushies. You didn’t leave anything.”
“And you didn't stop me earlier because…?”
They shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Easier t’keep you in one place.”
So he was trying to trap you.
Without a word you walked over to label the box, the marker squeaking loudly against the tape next to his hand. You grabbed their arm once you finished—since they clearly weren't planning to leave—and gave him a label of ‘my spouse’ on the back of his hand, along with a few hearts around it.
His eyes glittered with more excitement than usual. You might've done a little too much. “Shit, don't tattoo that,” you quickly muttered. From the way he looked to the side with a pout, you could tell he seriously considered the idea. “Wash it off later, okay? I’ll give you something else.”
The hacker immediately smiled brighter as you carefully leaned over the tower of boxes to give him a better gift.
💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤
[REDACTED] went back to unloading the truck, begrudgingly making an entrance to the cardboard fort before he left. You started unpacking your clothes first since he’d pointed them all out to you. As you finished arranging them in the closet and drawers of your room, you found a few things out of place at the bottom of those boxes.
Some of the hats, beanies, and scarves that you'd ‘robbed’ him of. And of course he let you keep whatever you wanted, so eventually a handful ended up in your everyday wardrobe in autumn and winter while others went unused.
But they didn't need to stay with you anymore. You could take them again whenever you wanted now. Along with everything that was his, he was yours.
You gathered them all into one of the smaller boxes and hurried off to his room. The prison in the living room hadn’t gotten much bigger, and your blue eyed boyfriend was nowhere to be seen as you peeked in to check. Probably trying to take the last few boxes in one trip, you supposed.
The closet door was ajar in their room when you arrived and you slid it open the rest of the way with your foot. Always clean and neat, not a thing was out of place about his signature black—with hints of gray or dark blue, when they felt like it—clothing.
Save for the soft, knitted green froggy hat that caught your eye on one of the shelves. You set your box next to it and picked it up, toying with the puffed up eyes sewn at the top.
It found its way into their everyday wardrobe, thanks to your occasional teasing after he went along with your prank. Once in a while he’d wear it, and you never even had to ask. Contrasted with his usual appearance it certainly stood out in a crowd. But it always looked comfortable and cute on him.
The fabric felt softer than a plushie. You wondered how comfy it really was, seeing how you'd never worn it yourself. But you couldn’t get sidetracked. Reluctantly, you put the silly hat back and got to work.
Only a few items had been put in their rightful places when the prized possession caught your eye again barely a minute later. It looked so sad on the shelf all alone, the little sewn-on smile tugged at your heartstrings. You had to wear it. There was enough unpacking done already. You could stand to use a break, even for a second.
You hurried to grab it, humming to yourself as you lifted it into the air.
“Angel,” the hat’s real owner suddenly called. Their gentle, raspy voice sounded closer than you expected. You looked up to find your ever so silent stalker of a boyfriend watching you from the doorway with an amused gaze. Your eyes went wide and you froze, the froggy hat held high in your grasp as if you were crowning royalty. “Robbin’ me again, love?”
Your face felt warm. “...Um, no,” you lied unconvincingly, too embarrassed to sound calm. “I'm actually returning things.”
“Hm. ‘Think this one suits y’better than me, though.” [REDACTED] stepped closer to pluck the hat from your hands. The soft, knitted fabric slid over your head, then he gently adjusted the ear flaps. “Cute.”
Before he could make another comment, you scrambled to offer a different topic. “Did you finish unloading? You could help me with unpacking in the kitchen.”
“Yeah, give me a minute.” His cool fingers moved to frame your face and lightly squish your heated cheeks. Pale blue eyes sparkled less with mischief, more focused now as they slowly looked you over in silence. He was probably tucking the sight away in his mind to tease you about later. “I'm real happy you moved in,” he said quietly.
Oh. You didn't expect that. “Me too.”
He smiled at your agreement and kissed your forehead, then leaned down. “Really happy,” he repeated between soft pecks to your lips.
Those few innocent kisses soon turned to longer and longer ones that left you wanting. Eventually you had to pull a few inches away with a hand placed to their chest. Tempting as it was to get distracted, there was a lot left to do.
He seemed to read your mind, cheeks tinged pink as he wrapped his hand over yours to keep you close. The doodled label you'd given them earlier was still proudly displayed on their skin. “So… kitchen?”
You nodded. And then got embarrassed all over again when he readjusted the hat that slipped to obscure your vision with fuzzy green fabric in the process.
“Maybe I should leave this here for now,” you said as you yanked it off. The hat plopped awkwardly in the box still full with the rest of his stuff and stared back at you. “I’ll put it away later, I swear. I’m not stealing it.”
Your partner said nothing, thankfully. Only smiled and led you out of the room by your entwined hands. You were careful not to smudge the inked letters on the back of their palm.
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