#yandere author x you

[casuallyanidiot]

Imagine Being stuck in the novel of a Yandere author...

Kina a soft continuation of this post.

You get hit by a truck and end up in a story! Fortunately you're not the villainess destined to die a horrible fate. In fact, you get the luxury of being the main character and getting the hopeful happy end. Unfortunately, you don't recognize any of the plot points or the names of anything.

That part of it sucks, but you figure you could just follow how you assumed the story would go.

But you find it strange how much the male lead looks like that creepy guy from your work. There's a weird pit in your stomach when he sung your praises, and you can't help but recoil a bit in disgust when he kisses your hand. You know that it's your role in this story to end up with this guy, but geez he's so weird. If the two of you weren't in some weird historical fantasy world, you were sure that he would constantly be glued to your side.

Then you realize that, oh, hey you don't actually have to stick in the direction the plot of this world is trying to lead you in.

You find that the Northern Duke is quite cute, actually, and though he isn't as detailed as some of the other characters that were probably focused on more in the novel, he's still sweet enough. So, when the Male lead proposes to you, you politely reject him and run off to be with your new lover.

But when you arrive at the Duke's estate, you find that he's... the male lead?!

"You're not- how are you here?!" You say with narrowed eyes. The male lead merely smiles at you, if not a little confused. "My love? What are you talking about? Am I not your beloved Duke?" He laughs and spread his arms wide as if to embrace you. His skin feels colder than before for some reason, though you try to brush it off.

Your life in his estate was extremely strange from then on. It was like no one else could tell that the Duke had been replaced. He looked and acted completely different from before, and when you asked the staff about it, they looked at you as if you were the crazy one. They suggested that perhaps the two men were more alike than you initially thought, and that you should focus instead on settling into your role as his happy, unquestioning spouse. You tried not to frown, but with the way their eyes glazed over anytime you began to ask too many questions, you didn't think it mattered if they saw or not.

Your new fiancé was rather clingy. Annoyingly so. You had been trying to stand his lecherous touches and less than innocent advances for weeks now, to believe that perhaps you were crazy and had somehow mistaken the Duke and the Male lead for each other like everyone said you had. That it was just some byproduct of getting reincarnated.

But then you ended up speaking to a gardener.

She was obviously just a background character, one that probably wasn't even meant to be mentioned in the pages of this novel. She didn't even have a face, and her voice was disjointed and soft. When she spoke, her words echoed in the back of your brain as if she wasn't even meant to speak.

"The lord? He's been acting strange ever since you arrived here my lady," She said. You had to blink to make sure you heard her. To make sure she was actually there. "And his face doesn't look quite right. I'm glad you noticed, my lady. Someone has to."

When you sought her out the next day, she had disappeared without a trace.

You decided that whatever was happening with the estate, the Duke and his servants, was far too strange for you to ignore. Perhaps you had strayed far too much from the original plot and setting of the novel. Either way, it wasn't worth all the trouble. Not when the very thing you sought to avoid with the male lead seemed to follow you. Not when the world seemed to be shifting to try and keep you in the plot.

Wherever you went from then on, You would keep seeing the male lead appear. But it was the same as with the Duke. A character that was unique in appearance and personality would suddenly morph into him. And no one would notice. It was like it was completely normal to have dozens of copies of the same man occupying different names and roles.

You feel insane, like you've broken something in the world.

It's one night where you finally snap and stab one of the weird versions of the male lead where you find out the truth. You're panting and covered in blood, a knife gripped in your shaking hand. There's a manic relief that grasps you right then and there. Because, these characters aren't actually alive. They can't be. Not when they all have the same exact face and voice, smiling at you with empty eyes and words that don't feel like anyone would actually say them if this weren't a book.

You let out a sob of relief that for once you're not being reminded of the man who lurked around the corners of your pervious life. He made your skin crawl with the constant muttering under his breath, with the way he watched you. You did not want to see him in these, awful, awful mockeries of real people.

All you want to do, is have a happily ever after in this stupid novel.

Your eyes go wide and you let out a noise that's halfway between a sob and a laugh. The figure shambles up, seemingly unaffected by the wound in it's side. The face of the male lead, no, of that awful wannabe author, stares back at you without a care in the world.

"Did you get it out of your system? [Name]?" It asks you with a polite smile that doesn't reach the eyes and a tilt to the head.

You collapse to the ground, whimpering as the figure approaches you and pats you on the head. It said your name. Not the main character's name, your name from the real world. You swallow thickly as the puppet of a character kneels down with stilted motions. It's like every little movement is being directly controlled right now. As if it's being written right before your eyes.

"Are you ready to behave now?" It asks like you're some scared pet, and not a living, breathing thing that's being played with like a doll.

Your lips tremble as you nod. You feel something in your mind shatter as you realize that the happy ending written for this world was definitely not intended for you.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 1

-Imagine that after John Wick wins his freedom from the High Table, he [re]retires to your sleepy little mountain town, where you work in a coffee shop...

-Your quaint little town tucked in the mountains is the kind of place people go to get away from it all, and you can’t help but wonder what Mr. Wick is running from. He is an unfairly handsome man. You nearly make a huge fucking fool of yourself, the first time he approaches your counter, so taken that you could hardly speak. For all his good looks there is something compellingly melancholy about him. You see it in his soulful dark eyes, and the set of his shoulders. You can see this man carries a weight beyond what anyone of his years should bear.   

-He becomes a regular at your little coffee shop, and you get over your shyness with him. He’s soft spoken, sometimes a little grumpy, but usually impeccably courteous compared to some of your unbearably entitled clientele visiting from the Big City for the ski resort or the hiking. He never orders anything fancy, just black coffee, and he likes to stay for an hour or so in the cozy cabin atmosphere of your shop. He favors a corner table tucked in the back by the river-stone fireplace, usually reading an old book, though sometimes you think he just sits, his attention fixed beyond the page he’s on, eyes not really seeing the room.

-You manage not to stare too hard, when you see him without gloves for the first time, and realize he is missing his left ring finger. You are not repulsed. You just wonder what happened to him.

-In time you notice he barely touches his unadorned coffee, and you wonder if he even likes it. You don't know where you get the cheek to tease this so-serious man. “Do you just order it like that to match your clothes?” You’ve never seen him in anything but head to toe black.

At first he looks at you as though you have grown a second head. Then he answers, completely dead pan, “Maybe it matches my soul.” 

You snort with laugher, not believing him.

Maybe you should have, looking back.

“Sure, Mr. Wick.”

The next day you surprise him with a cup of something you concocted with him in mind. It's nothing too scathingly original. Just a dark chocolate mocha, with a splash of hazelnut, and just a bit of steamed cream. “Try this,” you say, setting it on his table totally unsolicited. You feel validated, for he's barely touched his black coffee again. 

“What is it?” he asks, peering at it suspiciously. 

“I just think you might need something a little sweet.” 

He looks up at you through his long hair, and you don't know why, but a little chill runs down your spine. It's not fear, exactly. It's like walking in the woods, and stumbling on a powerful animal on the trail. Something that maybe could eat you, if it chose, but instead just disappears back into the dark trees.

You do not pester him anymore that day, even if it is the highlight of your shift sometimes. But when you go to clean up his dishes you do notice the cup you gave him is empty. 

He doesn’t come in for almost a week after that, and you fear that maybe you were too pushy and pissed him off with your boldness. 

Maybe it's a little pathetic, the way your heart leaps when he walks through the door again.

“I’ll have…whatever that thing was you made the other day.”

You try not to gloat, but your lips twist in a smile.

-It becomes your little mission in life to make this man smile, and if just the corner of his mouth ticks up at some point during his visit you feel as though you’ve accomplished a good thing.

Maybe it’s totally a cliché, but you’re an artist, and when you’re not making coffee, or cleaning up coffee, you draw bright designs on the chalkboard around the menu with your pastels. You make elaborate landscapes and art nouveau maidens inspired by Mucha. People in town seem to enjoy your weekly designs, which is nice, even if it’s not entirely the recognition you crave. Four years of art school just to doodle on the chalkboard, you can hear your father say. He’s not wrong, but it still stings.

One day, you sketch Mr. Wick reading in the corner on the back of a discarded receipt. He is…such a lovely man. When you walk past you slip it on the table for him. You don’t let yourself watch his reaction. If you had, you would have seen his expression soften, the stony façade cracking even if just for a moment.

Is this how you see him? Not some broken down old man, the way he absolutely feels after his war with the High Table, but something…not unpleasant to look at.

You don’t know it at the time, but this is the action that sets off an avalanche. You wake a sleeping beast in him, and a dark obsession begins to kindle.

[dragongirlpoet]

Dark Signs

Part II

<Read Part I here>

Alucard x female reader

Synopsis: You asked Alucard for a favour. Now you have to be careful what you wished for. (3.5k words) "To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster" - Vampire Hunter D

TW: Dark fantasy, horror & gore elements, blood, SMUT (Alucard is feral in this one) Explicit 🔞

Here's hoping you'll enjoy this too! Sorry it took longer than expected, I was unwell and didn't want to put out a story I wasn't proud of. Thank you for reading!

Also to @skychaser777 hope you can sleep after this 😉

The hollow stone walls echoed my shaky breaths, caving them in, the thumping of my heart violent in my ears. My skin was pricked with goosebumps, foreboding dire dwellings. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Absurd question, considering everything was inherently far from right. 

There had only been one instance where I felt unsafe with Adrian. 

Located in the underbelly of Wallachia was a forgotten catacomb, a labyrinth where the dead and undead alike convened. I had been extracting bile from slaughtered night creatures, told to render powerful salves when mixed with mint, myrrh and…other herbs. 

Body sticky with sweat and hands grimy from reaching into revolting guts, I was almost to my fifth vial when a guttural growl stopped me dead in my tracks. 

From the marrows of a tunnel, a numbing cold, laced with strangled gnawing, reverberated through the passageways.

Every fibre of my being told me to run, alas I had all but the impudence of a child. Unsheathing my iron dagger, ensorcelled to wound even the most vile, I treaded warily towards my impending doom.  

The sight that awaited me was sickening. Crouched over bodies upon bodies of night creatures was a pallid, mangled man? His face was buried in their carcasses, marring at their flesh, lapping at their blood. 

Before I could take another breath, the man turned, face smeared with ravaged viscera and foul, curdled blood. He had hair like the purest wisps of wheat and eyes like dark, desecrated graves. 

I choked back a gasp.

“You foolish, foolish girl. You are not prepared for the evil that lurks here, feeds here..” his bellow was deafening, diabolical. Blood spilled from his fangs, splaying his torso tainted with innards and rotten flesh.

“Wh..who are…you?” I paced backwards as he stalked towards me.

“You don’t know who I am? Most fascinating…” he offered a smile so sinister, as if he had stumbled upon the most naive of fools he was soon to devour.

“I am the sun…rain…the darkness. I am sin made flesh and I am whom you should most fear. I am Alucard, son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.”

A loud “smash” rattled through the room as I retreated into our wooden dresser, knocking over a prized hourglass Alucard so often used to practise his script. The pair of glowering molten eyes trailed me — never blinking, burning caverns into my soul. 

I shifted my gaze downwards to avoid stepping into glass, but that was regrettably the least of my worries. Lifting my stare, those eyes were gone — quick as spectres passing through dimensions. 

Our chamber fell into a boundless black, and my human sight could not adjust acutely enough to the darkness. I flailed my arms about willing to grasp onto anything that could give me some bearing. Anxiety crept through me like poison ivy ensnaring a forsaken home. 

“Adrian? Stop this please! This isn’t funny.” The volatile rhythm of my heart suddenly became too loud, too unbearable. 

No amount of breaths could repress my violent trembling. A faint flicker from the corner caught my eye — Alucard’s heirloom sword. If his magical estoc was there…he is still in the room with me. 

The hairs on my arms shot up, little by little.

Out of nowhere, forceful, ice cold hands prised around my throat, yanking me out of my state of terror. From behind, Alucard, voice grave like a thousand infernal souls, growled into my ear, 

“Do you understand the gravity of what you’re asking?”

Whether it was fear or the vice-like grip around my neck, I couldn’t speak.

“Answer me.” 

He clamped tighter.

”Ye…yesss,” I wasn’t telling a lie. 

“Then let’s finish what we started, shall we?”

One minute I was in Alucard’s death grip, the next I was shoved, hard, into the stone wall, my face chafing against the abrasive mortar. I winced at the pain.

“You’re hurting me, Adrian!” 

Behind, he tightened his grip on my wrists, binding them into the small of my back. 

“Am I? Ohh…but you like danger, don’t you?...His other hand reached down to unfasten his pants, his erect cock sliding out… “You are drawn to the darkness, just as I am.” 

He trailed the words up and down my neck, pausing ever so subtly to savour the scent of blood in my veins. 

A small bead of sweat started trickling down my face…no, no, it was blood — from my collision with the wall.

Alucard went eerily still again. I felt a shift in his countenance, like a malevolent cloud obliterating sunshine. 

He was hungry.

With one knee, he forced my legs apart and hauled my nightdress up, my backside fully exposed. I could feel the tip of his length against my rear — throbbing, impatient. He snaked his hands all over my naked body, grabbing at my breasts, digging into my thighs. 

The scent of my blood set his every carnal need aflame. 

Adrian had always been prudent — he would excuse himself at the slightest scent of my exposed blood, isolating himself in the castle dungeons for hours, as if he deserved it. Deserved to be punished for his beastly urges, deserved to be condemned for being born a monster. 

Every blood-month I had would send him away for days — “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve seen what I become when I feed… I’ll just be hunting, it’d be just a few days, and your cycle would end when I’m back,” he would say with a smile. A sad smile.

And I was utterly tired and heartbroken that my Adrian, so kind and full of love, would admonish himself, rip his spirit to shreds, for a fate that had been unfairly handed to him. I was going to end this, tonight.

Alucard nuzzled his face into my hair, taking in all my smells, heaving. His body was unyielding against mine — elegant marble against bewitching velvet. I could hear his vampiric heartbeat ringing in his ears, drowning out all sense of reason. He was an animal in heat. 

“You know I cannot control myself around you. And you know what your blood does to me… Do you know how long I haven’t fed?” 

His writhing cock was brandishing my cunt, starving for my hole.

“Do you know I think about what it’s like to have your blood in my veins? How much I want it, need it, desire it. 

How much I want my blood in you. And you ask this of me, tonight, when I’m sitting at the precipice of hunger and lust…”

There was a sharp intake of breath. 

“Hmmm you don’t know what’s coming for you. Once I do this there’s no turning back. 

Do you know how long I’ve been holding out for you? To be better for you. And now you ask this of me…”

At that he yanked at my hair, forcing my head to fall back. The red trace on my cheeks bowed complete to his mercy. 

Staring defiantly into his eyes, I said, “Do it, Adrian. I want you to.” 

Danger, danger.

A devious smile tugged at his lips. Alucard skimmed my neck with his mouth, bruising it with reckless kisses and parlous nips. He moved precariously to suck at the aquamarine veins running down my breasts, licking slow circles about my nipples. He was a wolf dallying with his food. 

A true vampire, hedonistic even in the slightest of pursuits, moving inevitably to the blood trail. He had waited so long for this. 

He pushed his lips delicately into my face, afraid of spilling even the smallest of drops. My blood was a sacred river, a bath of worship he would praise forever. Shaking, he ravened the scarlet off my face, sucking at the open cut, willing for more. 

He was a mixture of muffled moans and enthralled ecstacy.

It was exhaultant. I adored being able to give Adrian what he most craved. 

Drinking in more than necessary, the whites of his eyes were no longer — entire sockets now overtaken with crepuscular crypts darker than the blood moon that hung outside.

Alucard’s cock twitched beneath me, length growing harder and bigger by the second. Grunting, he pumped his sex and slid it against my pussy. I was light-headed with anticipation, but he had merely fondled my folds, prodding at my entrance, testing to see how wet I was.

Perhaps he had been right. Perhaps a dissolute part of me yearned for the darkness, but what I’d wanted most of all was to know that I had years, centuries — immortality, to be with Adrian. 

Head over my shoulder with eyes like lacquered obsidians, he interlaced his fingers with mine, bringing them down to press at my clit. Flagging off from my most sensitive spot, he traced them up my body, slowly, torturously. 

“I wonder…” fingers caressing my abdomen… “how far up…” I gasped as he adjusted them higher… “my cock will go when I’m deep inside you…” Alas settling on a spot above my navel.

A sacred river spawned between my legs. 

Incapable of restraint any longer, I reached back to stroke his shaft, thumb stimulating his tip until his pre-load creamed my fingers. I lathered his fluids, relishing in the feel of his hallowed flesh tethered to my hands. 

“Fuuuck.” Alucard bristled against my touch, face buried in my neck. Below, he was thrusting at my entrance, not yet entering, readying me for his carnal devotion. 

”Adrian please, I need you. I want you inside…”  

His last thread of resolve snapped. He rammed his boner into me from behind, stretching me, engulfing me. My tender walls were a haven to his brutal thrusts, welcoming him in. Cock barely to his hilt, he spread my bottocks apart, plunging his engorged member in. 

“Ahh…ahh…” I whimpered, hands braced on the wall. 

“How are you still so tight…” he hissed, enraged he couldn’t yet feel all of me.

My fingers weaved into his hair, tugging as I leaned further back into him. This feral urge, I craved it. It was scarce enough to satiate the searing lust in me, so I ground impiously against his length like the unholy girl he wanted me to be. 

Tonight, he was to have his way. He was the nefarious overlord and I was but a malleable zealot. My hips were firmly held down by his hands — he wanted to control my rhythm. I was, afterall, his submissive little prey. 

Alucard forced his cum-stained fingers into my mouth, swirling them about the insides of my cheeks, wresting in and out of my plush lips. I licked at them greedily, suckling on his taste. He was so deft — hands and length penetrating me in a lyrical sync, sating me above and below.

I gagged when he stuck his fingers further down, my throat wedging tight. Tears rimmed my eyes but I continued hollowing my cheeks, head bobbing. “Such a good girl…” praising as he brushed hair off my face. I was to appear immaculate while being fucked indecent.

Hypnotised by his bulge assaulting my hole, I bit sinfully on his index, tearing his skin. He pulled out from my mouth, eyes transfixed on the blot of blood. 

“You’re being a naughty little lamb tonight…” His smile was insidious, like a serpent suffocating its meal.

My vampire smothered his blood over my parted lips. My tongue grazed over it, wiping it clean like I was the one writhing in blood lust. What I did had Alucard under a powerful spell. He plummeted his smug into me, our kisses heedless, crashing into each other in depraved lust. 

We sucked and bit them swollen, both of us unrestrained and shameless of our monstrous love. Under, he continued hammering his heat into me, hand pushing my cunt back to swallow more of him.

Alucard was never one to trifle with a perfect opportunity. Hands at his favourite spot, he rubbed his digits forcefully at all the places his cock didn’t already fill. My knees buckled at once from overstimulation. 

“Stay.” He landed a firm smack onto my soaking sex… “Still.”

“Or I won’t let you cum.” An order.

He bent me over, my backside raised to allow him easy entry. I compelled my wobbly legs to stand, muscles quivering at my bones.

“Good. Hands on the wall.” 

Like his obedient little lamb, I hoisted my arms on the cold stone, squeezing taut around my feral wolf.

I was begging, moaning his name, my being in complete disarray.

Content with how tight I was clenching around his shaft, Alucard drove his erection mercilessly into me, pounding so hard I was lifted off the ground. 

I cried out in pleasure and pain. “Adrian! Adrian please…”

“You like it when I’m rough with you, baby? You want me to turn you, and fucking you senseless comes with it,” he spat in between thrusts, dragging hair away from my ears to ascertain I could hear him loud and clear. 

I was so deliciously filled my lewdness spilled out onto my legs. Paths of sweet nectar trickled down my trembling thighs, glazing his girth with my wicked desire. 

I was so close.

Smelling my arousal and imminent climax, Alucard slammed faster into me, his own pace losing cadence. 

We were so close. 

He had everything timed perfectly. Just as he had countless times before — night creatures and wild animals — all unsuspecting pawns to his blood thirst. He was adept at hiding his deplorable little secret, but I knew better. 

Fangs fully exposed, he grazed them masterfully over my neck, humming at my veins and arteries. Quite like a skilled chef discerning food, he was choosing which would taste most exquisite. My scarlet vessels were pulsing in tempo with my heartbeat — palpitating, quivering, waiting.

“Are you frightened? I can feel your terror in my bones…” villainy laced his snarl like a wolf finally rid of sheep’s clothing. 

I had to inhale gulps of air to articulate my words, “No….” But what I said or what I thought mattered no longer. Gone was Adrian — human, moral, benign. A bestial, debased monster, instead, all consumed him. 

Soulless eyes searched me once more, as if to forewarn me about my perilous decision, as if the human in him was straining to break free of his chains to stop this atrocity.

There was no turning back now.

I offered my neck to him, reckless, bloodstreams on full display. At last, with Alucard’s throbbing cock still stuffed full inside, I felt the firestorm in my core and the crushing torrent soon overcame me. 

My release tonight felt different — cathartic. I was once again the delicate driftwood being dragged underwater — careless, aimless, going where the current took me. My limbs fell limp at my sides, my spirit devoid of vigour. And I knew why. 

Alucard’s fangs were buried in my neck, drinking my blood as if a divine offering. When did he bite me? I felt no pain, only a rapture so heavenly I ached for more. 

And so drink he did. Rivers of blood coated his lips, crimson tributaries surging down his throat. He sucked and lapped at my vital spark, clawing at my body so ardously as if I was the most cherished jewel of immeasurable value. 

Like a vampire deprived of debauchery, he drank me in like sweet sin. He had no beginning and no end. And rightfully so. I was profoundly proud of my Adrian. At long last, he no longer had to be ashamed of who he was. He was liberated. He was free. 

My racing heart was now a supine hum. I lay naked — pliant and frozen in his arms. The sleepy swell of the ocean lulled me into the black nothingness. I was rising and falling, so in harmony with the current.

Above, hazy sunbeams fractioned the waves like sparkling diamond necklaces. Beneath, the sombre abyss tugged at my essence, diffusing all manner of light. The ominous depth, though a macabre embrace, was one so full of promise. It was beckoning to me, calling my name — stay, stay, stay…

—

I awoke to a pall of infinite blackness. 

I had been dreaming. There were shadows — silhouettes, of people I couldn’t quite make out. They were whispering, a sonnet of hurried voices, as if going somewhere, but nowhere at the same time. Then there was a lambent flame — the colour of pale amber, always in the distance but never near. Always tailing, always watching…

Where was I? 

I could see nothing, hear nothing. I shifted slightly, and my shoulders were met by cool textile — silk? As more of my senses reconciled, I felt the mattress below me, a satiny divan not reminiscent of my bed. Muted was the air, hollow was the roof, and

…algid was my skin. 

I was in a coffin.  

Panic coiled through the ridges of my ribs, puncturing my heart like lethal thorns. I clawed and pounded at the wood…was I buried alive?

Alas, like the caves of hell being vaquished by divine light, the casket slid open, and I clambered onto a sprawling granite floor. I was heaving, frantic to take in air, clamouring at my chest as if ghostly hands were crushing my heart, splintering my valves. 

Where was Adrian?

A succession of torches adorned the upper vaults, the mellow ebb of light suddenly becoming glaring to my eyes, as if I had been staring directly at the sun. I could make out the phosphorescent ripples and saffron hues that wreathed the flames. 

The air smelled vaguely of mildew and crumbling concrete, while the scampering of rodents in between masonry thundered in my ears. I could hear them squeaking, the sounds of their bones compressing while they squeezed through cracks and crevices. 

I could hear their heartbeats — tiny surges of blood in their capilliaries. 

Such fragile little things, I wonder what they’d feel when they’re crushed by the force of my teeth. If they’d feel pain, if any at all, as I drain them dry…

I was so, so hungry. 

My awareness had heightened ten-fold, the anarchy of it all confounding whatever human that was left in me. The sensation of everything all at once was too much to bear and I covered my ears to drown out the distress. 

Futile efforts indeed. 

“Adrian? Adrian…” My voice hoarse from wheezing.

Was this what he had to endure? Being so akin with the presence of entirety, enough to render one insane. Was this why he had been so loath to turn me?

I hauled myself off the ground, bidding my legs to what looked to be a door. Scarce a blink had passed than I was face to face with a metal threshold — intricate lineations etched faintly onto the frame. 

“Willing blood of the Raven Maiden,” — Enochian, words of ancient bygone, but Adrian and I had been avid philologists.

I didn’t concern myself with whether the translation had in fact referred to my blood, but I sank my fangs — a lurid extension — into my wrist and smeared them over the threshold. 

The magicked portal transported me to a bed chamber, a former bed chamber, now resembling the crux of a dense forest.

Creepers cleaved through stone, while poison vines slivered across furniture. Rich moss clung to the bed frame, eating away at the tulle canopy, embedding itself into rotted linen.

That chaise…it was ours. 

Horror flooded my senses as I glanced furtively around. 

Our armoire, our settee, our desk. 

Strewn across the floor, some shredded by tree roots dissecting the wooden panelling, lay stacks of disintegrating parchment like remnants of forgotten lore.

Vampiric speed overtaking, my eyes scanned the moth-eaten pages over. 

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

I choked on my tears. 

“To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster.”

They fell like glass, shattering on the ink, eroding the paper more.

How long had I been asleep for?

“No, no, no…”  I wept into the emptiness, anguish imprisoning my lungs, blocking off air. In spite of being undead, I had a heart, and it bled — it bled crimson, pain and grief. It bled with all the words I wished I could take back. 

It bled with all the ache that I might never see Adrian again. 

I scoured the castle. Every tower, every room, every dungeon, each a shell of its former mirth. The scenes ran parallel  — overgrown foliage, wrecked furnishings, pillars atrophied by decay. Our home had been eaten away by the curse of time. There was no sign of life, no essence of Adrian. 

With a threshing hole in my heart, I raced past the lattice of abandon toward the main doors. As the iron portcullis lifted, I recoiled at the hell that awaited me. 

There, in the blistering winter, impaled upon rows and rows of stakes, dangled festering corpses of night creatures…and humans. 

What have I done?

Part I

[umitsy]

warnings: delusional behavior, love obsession

reader's g/n

➻ Yandere delusional author! who thinks anything he writes will become true someday, even if it's not for him, someone's living the life he's written/is writing about.

➻ Yandere delusional author! who just published a new book about a lovelife initiating at the mountains of his town, all lovey-dovey pouring the love life he wants to live someday.

➻ Yandere delusional author! who'd book a vacation some months later to the mountains without thinking too much into it, since it now was a costume of him to travel there once a year for holidays.

➻ Yandere delusional author! who'd meet you as the new hotel's employee, also seeing your photograph hanging under a plaque that read "best talent".

➻ Yandere delusional author! who relates your introduction as the one he wrote on his latest book of the love interest.

➻ Yandere delusional author! whose hopes would go up to the moon when your attitude and reactions seemed like the ones he put so much effort into writing.

➻ Yandere delusional author! who'd then fall in love completely, believing you're made for each other as his book told.

➻ Yandere delusional author! who'd then create a new twist when he saw you being equally friendly with any customer as you were with him, planning on asking you out after knowing you for barely one week.

➻ Yandere delusional author! whose heart skipped a beat when you shyly agreed to go on the date and immediately started imagining scenarios of how it would go.

➻ Yandere delusional author! who would think you're already a couple when the date's over and you're beaming in happiness under the moonlight.

➹ "𝑾𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆".

[running-with-kn1ves]

PUNISHMENT: A Reward

A/N: Decided to name our ‘PUNISHMENT’ fic boy Malachi, lemme know if this is a win or a fat L my scrumptious pogchamps. ALSO happy valentines day! (Posting this early let me be)

CW: Toxic relationship, possessive/obsessive behavior, suggestive themes, mentioning future seggsual acts/fantasies

Synopsis: Out on a group date for Valentine's Day with your possessive, jealousy-ridden boyfriend is never a good idea, especially when he finds the special surprise you’re wearing for him.

“Hrmm… seems like they have a lot of Valentine's themed stuff on the menu.” 

“Well it IS the season! No other reason for it being so packed in here...” One of your friends across the table perked up, slightly annoyed at the stuffy atmosphere.

She was right, every table was filled, every booth full of chattering couples or first blind dates, even double or thruple dates just like the one you were on. 

You were lucky your friend's boyfriend had managed to snag this place a week in advance, else you might be thigh to thigh with everyone else in a tinier booth. Ha, as if YOUR boyfriend would allow that; you'd probably be on the edge of the shared booth seat, nearly falling off just to save you from being ‘too close’ to anyone else, even your own friends. 

“Annoying… I don't get why going out on Valentine's Day is so important, what happened to dates in the privacy of your own home.” Said the devil you were thinking of, that comment nudging to how he was far more in favor of spending a “romantic” evening home alone with you instead of being here with your two friends and their spouses. 

“Awe, is puppy dog Malachi upset he has to share? We planned this weeks in advance, so suck it up, we have a right to see OUR friend tonight.” That same friend hissed. 

Your other friend nodded. He would’ve added on, if it weren’t for the death stare your boyfriend was currently drilling into everyone else across the table. You hadn’t been out in a group setting like this in… who knows how long.

“Oh, really? Don’t fucking--”

“C’mon you guys,” You grabbed onto Malachi’s thigh, a tight squeeze making him stop in his angry tracks to look down.”I’m here right now, shouldn’t we be catching up, not fighting? I missed you, missed this.” 

Your sincerity seemed to ease them up, a flash of contrition on your female friend’s face. She hated your boyfriend, clearly, wearing a scowl when she turned back to Mr. moody himself. He rested his face on his palm, looking at the other couples every now and again, always keeping a short glance at you out of the corner of his eye to make sure you weren’t having too much fun. 

One of the spouses --you had forgotten the name of by now after the evening’s short introductions-- had begun talking, complaining about coworkers or customers, one or the other. 

Wow, has it been so long that your friends have completely different lives now, new people that they spend their time with that you weren’t even told about? Well, its not like you’ve exactly been open to receiving that kind of news, or able to be, with so little time to make phonecalls lately, your phone always seeming to disappear, phone numbers no longer existing in your contacts… it was truly a miracle you managed to have this outing, and Malachi thought so too. 

“I swear if she prods at me again,” Your jealous guard dog of a boyfriend started, hand clenching the red, heart-embroidered table cloth.

“Take it easy, okay? I know you don’t want to be here but-- just do it a little longer, for me. Thats what we agreed, right?”

You took his hand in yours, bringing up his clenched fist to your lips. You thanked the skies that physical affection always seemed to drown out his fiery temper. You wondered how much longer that’d last. 

“Fine. But I can’t stand looking at them anymore, come ‘ere.” Malachi patted his thigh, hands moving to your hips to help bring you to your new seat. 

“Seriously? We’re in a.. A nice restaurant, with my friends--”

He gave you a knowing look, one that said ‘if you don’t listen, i’ll drag your ass back to the car without the pleasure of friendly goodbyes.’ 

You didn’t know if you could handle the embarrassing shit he put you through anymore. It tested the strength of your will and the integrity of your soul at this point. 

You did as he demanded, slowly making your way to sit on the edge of his lap. Most of those around you didn’t seem to notice, an occasional glance looking to see what you were doing, but ultimately going back to the lively story of one of the nameless significant others. You tried to hover above him, afraid to fully commit to sitting down on top of him, but a small ‘what are you doing’ and forced downward push of your hips made your butt make soft contact with his lap. 

“That’s right… that’s better.” He cleared his throat, putting one arm around your waist and the other on your knee. You directly blocked his view, your boyfriend not moving to see the rest of the group, instead leaning against you like a perfectly shaped body pillow. 

“Can’t you atleast act normal? Don’t you have any shame around other people,” You whispered, knowing that one of your friends was reading the uncomfortable expression on your face and was in turn, giving a similar expression of discomfort. 

“Hey, you know how bad I can be, this isn’t even the worst of it. You want me to really embarrass you?” 

A waiter  broke the quiet spat you were having with him, asking if you’d like another drink. He didn’t acknowledge the man behind you, either out of not seeing him or to purposefully avoid the dark eyes digging into his soul behind your shoulder. 

You croaked out a polite “yes please,” looking for your friend’s fellow responses. They all answered in kind, the waiter scurrying away to another busy set of tables. 

Malachi scoffed, coiling around you tighter. 

“D’you see that? I knew we shouldn’t have come out here, in front of prying eyes… bet he’s hit on every other pretty thing he’s seen walk in here, so don’t get any ideas.” 

 You almost turned around to gawk at your boyfriend, such an insensitive and insecure string of words wounding you. 

“I would never..” 

You almost let him ruin the rest of your evening, the dreadful pit of wanting to go home entering your tired mind. But you promised yourself you’d try to make an effort in repairing your friendships, attempting to memorialize your friend’s smiles and laughs, trying to come up with the names of their spouses you had just heard a half hour ago. If you wouldn’t see them again for a while, atleast you could have this. 

And with the two-second memory your boyfriend often displayed,(except for when it came to your “betrayals”) he was enamored with something new. 

“Oh, what do we have here…” Malachi tip-toed down the elastic waistband of your pants, looking at the lacey red lingerie underneath. It wasn’t hard to spot, not when it was a drastic change from your usual tame undergarments. Well, tame for him, he had seen them all at this point. 

You wouldn’t have noticed his prodding peculiarity if it weren’t for that worrying heightened pitch in his voice, one that always started trouble. Fingers nipping your tummy and around your wrist weren’t unusual, you had become accustomed to it from how he pawed at you at home, never seeming satisfied, but this, wasn’t the usual lack of personal space.

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to see that.” You slapped his hand away, having which already gotten a full touch of the goods you were hiding. 

“What is that supposed to mean--” Malachi started, and you knew he was about to expect the worst. You shut him up as fast as you could. 

“It’s supposed to be for tonight, idiot!” You whispered with a harsh tone, starting to get fed up with his childish reactions, which always seemed to jump to conclusions. “...Did you forget that it’s Valentine’s day or what?”

You barely let the words escape from between your teeth, not wanting to admit the silent internet escapade you went on to find something that wouldn’t tear your ass in half or be so tight you’d be left with more marks from it than him. But even so, after the sneaking around in trying to catch the package before he could and clearing out your emails as soon as possible, he still managed to see it before you had planned. 

Now, you wondered if it was worth it, with the lace itching your chest and the other giving you a wedgie. 

“awe.. no way, for me? All for me?” Malachi was promptly sweet on you, much different than the heel-biting mood he was in a short few minutes ago. 

You leaned back to get close to his ear, shifting your eyes anxiously. You really didn’t want your friends to know about the violently ravenous side of your boyfriend that wouldn’t stop him from making a scene about it here and now, which you anxiously tried to prepare for in case of the worst. “It’s for when we get back home…so lets just enjoy our time here, just sit still with me for a little longer.” You tried your usual ‘gentle parenting’ method, holding the heavy knuckles around your waist, to soothe him into letting you spend just a little bit longer with your friends.

Malachi kicked his feet, exasperating at this newfound interest and the ways he could torture you with it, could make you beg him for its secrecy. Oh how he could envision having you at his mercy, so cute and sexy but ultimately deserving punishment for going behind his back about something so temptatious, something another man could see and take if he weren’t there.  

“But now, baby I don’t know if I can wait.” He grinned, raking his teeth over his bottom lip so much it looked like it hurt. You felt him shift underneath you, leaning up to grind against your backside. “Man, you really should’ve hid it better, ‘cause now its all I can think about..”

You rolled your eyes, feeling his heavy exhale against your cheek. Your friends were too immersed in their own conversations with their loved ones to notice anything else, legs strewn over one another and fingers interlocked as they felt the cheap haze of their Sweetheart Cocktail’s and Rosé’s of Love. You would’ve much preferred to be tipsy along with them by now, but the truth is you were too nervous with the possessive man beside you to truly let loose anywhere other than alone. On top of that, the scolding you’d get from him for being so relaxed was not worth the extra headache. 

And yet, the wanton expression he held for you, the hands that fiddled to get deep and play with his surprise, made you feel so wanted. More wanted than your friends had  made you feel this evening. They just looked at you with concerned frowns and confused cocks of their heads as they questioned to why you were still with this crazed maniac. 

“What I would do to bend you over in front of these idiots, make you do more than say my name while wearing these adorable lacey little--” 

“Don’t tell me you’re already thinking of heading out.” Your female friend piped up, looking at the credit card Malachi put on top of the split receipt that has been sitting lonesome for a good while. 

He almost broke, annoyed at the sudden interruption. 

“Afraid so,” Your anticipating boyfriend gleamed, not even her sour attitude dampening the rising excitement in his perverted mind and tightening pants. “We have some other plans to attend to.”

“What could be more important than friends?” She asked, looking at you to advocate against your controlling spouse. 

You felt a greedy palm reach up your shirt, falling back down to paw for the thin garment below your waistline. 

“If we don’t go now.. I don’t know how much longer I can wait. Can’t promise that I won’t  rip these fucking shorts off you here to see what all is underneath.” He whispered against you through gritted teeth, barely able to stop from kissing you raw. 

“We’ll stay… just until the waiter comes back for his tip.” You choked out, not letting on about the roll of Malachi’s hips that pressed you up against the table. 

[ataraxiaspainting]

Animal Cannibal.

Yan Dottore x F Reader.

Synopsis: Violent individuals were frequently drawn to you, including your dear friend Willow, who shares your affinity for this destructive behavior. Your stalker, too, possesses a similar infatuation with you. The bond between the three of you lies in the intertwined emotions of violence and love.

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence/gore, stalking, cannibalism, minor character death, implied future kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of not SFW, and non-consensual human experimentation. 

Word Count: 2.2k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Goo Goo Muck by The Cramps

Killer Queen by Queen

Psycho Killer - 2005 Remaster by Talking Heads

I Want To Break Free by Queen

Tip Toe Thru’ the Tulips with Me by Tiny Tim

Exploration by Bruno Coulais 

Take on Me by a-ha

You Are My Sunshine by Charles McDonald

Everybody Loves Somebody by Dean Martin

Dream A Little Dream Of Me - Single Version by Ella Fitgerald (feat. Louis Armstrong)

“But love shouldn’t cost an arm and a leg!” – Possibly in Michigan (1983)

*~*~*~*

i. “My own experiments have given me a deep understanding of the true nature of suffering… and I’m keen to share it with a willing guinea pig, hm?”

You found a strange man outside of your house.

He was taller than you–with hair the color of mint that covered his eyes, his beard long and poorly taken care of with split ends and some leaves and small sticks stuck to the thicker parts of it.

He waved at you when he saw you approaching. He did not scare you, not one bit.

He did not blend into his surroundings well because of how unique his appearance was. He wore an open black waistcoat with some of its buttons hanging on by a loose thread and nothing underneath. His pants were torn from the knee down. Grossly, you smelled him before you even saw him.

“Hello, sir,” You say, stepping a bit closer carefully, skillfully, being sure to not make a sound to startle or agitate him. You have become well-acquainted with unfamiliar gentlemen lurking around your residence as daylight fades, after all. “It’s getting late, isn’t it? Do you have a place to stay? There is an inn nearby I think if you don’t.” For better or for worse, stealth is something you are quite intimate with. “Sir? Are you alright? Sir?” The man did not respond, simply looking past you like you were not there.

He looked on into the brightwood trees, the wild, overgrown bushes dotted with purple Sumeru roses, and the rising, circular moon. You have a sudden flash of inspiration; since you have no weapon on you, you could bite him and claw at him if he tried anything. Your eyes go downcast, to his tattered, dirty leather shoes, as you dismiss the idea. 

“Excuse me? Do you need something? Sir?”

“I don't,” The man finally said, his voice raspy. “What about you? Do you live somewhere?”

“Here, I live here.” You could not hear what he mumbled as a response because of how quiet he was. “I live here. This is my home. You are outside my door and I can’t get in. Please, if you don’t need assistance, take a few steps back from it.”

Instead of looking at him, you look at your door. That is when you saw it; a hairpin lodged into your lock.

The man took it out and ran into the forest.

Despite the slight dents on your front door's lock, your house remained in good condition. Its aged appearance stood in stark contrast to the lush greenery that thrived just a few meters away. The wood showed signs of decay, with splits and a distinct scent of dampness and decomposing fish. Attached to the house was a collection of neglected Sumeru rose bushes, stunted and infested with flies. A rockery filled the space with an abundance of rocks, while a fairy ring composed of squishy brown toadstools emitted a dreadful odor when mistakenly stepped upon.

ii. “There is a sickness inside of me. I feel it eating away at me, eroding my mind and body. But I do not care. If I have to suffer for knowledge, I gladly will.”

The well outside your house was, for lack of a better word, still decrepit. But still, it seems like the man did not do anything to it. On the first day you moved in, all alone, the old couple that lived a hundred or so meters away made a point of telling you how dangerous the well was, and they warned you to be sure you kept away from it. 

You found it as soon as you stepped onto the property, it was in front of your house after all, smelling strongly of damp, dirty water, behind a clump of trees—a low brick circle almost hidden in the high grass. There were nests of drain flies that from afar looked like crushed pebbles. It made you step back a bit in complete disgust before you turned in the opposite direction to put your things down.

Like most Sumeru forests, there were plenty of types of animals. There were crystalflies that were sometimes the only light source you had, frogs that sometimes crept up your legs as you walked in tall, wet blades of grass and nearly made you scream every time and lizards that always somehow found a way inside and slithered across your floors.

There was also an orange cat, who sat on walls and tree stumps and watched you while meowing loudly but slipped away hissing if ever you went over to scare it off.

You spent the first two weeks after you moved in making adjustments to the rather old house. You hardly ate or slept, you just worked. There were days when you did not change clothes or drink water even, being so focused on your work that you hardly noticed anything else around you.

“This is my favorite!” exclaimed Willow, pointing at the Padisarah Pudding that was blocked off by a wall of glass.

“How much mora is it?” You asked, taking out your wallet. “I'll buy it for you. I am buying some Samosas here anyway, so it is no trouble. If you want, I can buy you some too, I recommend getting the potato and pea one.”

“No,” Willow answered, shaking her head while chuckling. “I'm fine. I have to use up some old vegetables and meat anyway at home before they go bad or my parents are going to kill me for real.” 

“Alright, be sure to check the ingredients beforehand for any dirt or mold,” you said. “‘I do not want you getting sick.”

You stood by one of the bakery’s windows, observing the rain pouring down. This rain wasn't the type you could venture out into; it was the other kind, cascading from the sky and creating splashes upon impact. This rain was serious, and its current agenda was transforming the streets into a murky, soggy mixture.

There was nothing to do here other than talk to Willow and wait for your food. Not that that was a bad thing in your book.

You had met through a mutual stalker, to put it simply, and now are inseparable. Even though that man is currently rotting in a prison cell, the past still influenced both of your actions. You just thank Lesser Lord Kusanali for granting you good fortune. With every new stalker, Willow seemed to be connected to them somehow, making you two even closer than before. You bond over your shared reverence of violence and love.

So, you start talking.

You start talking with a tone akin to someone making small talk over the weather, but instead of dark clouds or how bright the sun is, you talk about the man you saw yesterday. Willow listens, nodding a bit from time to time while still looking both outside the window and to the glass wall where the desserts were placed for the viewership of the customers. From the way she smiles with every word you say, you know you have piqued her interest yet again.

“Interesting.” She finally says, her back turned to you as she looks out to the rainstorm.

iii. “I wondered, why does a man who has done nothing think he deserves everything? That is what this experiment is about.”

“Hello?” You say, opening your door. “You're back.”

“Yes,” The man answered, playing with the buttons on his torn clothing. “Only for you, beloved.”

“Should I be honored?” You asked. “Who are you? What are you?”

“Your prince, what else?”

“Who or what else are you?”

“Someone utterly in love with you, someone you love too.”

“How do you know that?”

"My mouth,” The man answers, leaning in closer to you with his tongue out. “Look—look at it. The better to eat you with, my dear. It hungers for you. I just know you are the one to finally satisfy it. It is in a wolf's nature to feed, after all.”

“I see.” You look down as he kisses you, showing no resistance. He has holes in his shoes. His big toes are sticking out like sore thumbs. You suppose that they are, in a way.

“You have two choices. One, I will eat you now; or two, I will cut your arms and legs off one by one and eat them in front of you slowly as you cry on the floor covered in filth.”

You considered this carefully as you thought of an answer, preparing to ask him why.

So, you do, because he does not stop you and you want to know, don't you? He does not stop you.

He says for love.

You ask again.

He once again says it is for love. You say that love isn’t something given as part of an exchange or contract, that what he is asking for is bitter and dry.

He simply laughs. “For love.”

“But do you love me?"

“You smell so good, like the finest rose in all of Sumeru, all of Teyvat, even all of Celestia.”

Struggling would be useless. “Have there been others?” You ask.

"You must be the seventh," he remarked, leaving you to grapple with this realization. Escape became an impossible feat as he denied you any chance to flee. 

As if responding to his words, the door creaked open, followed by a gunshot.

iv. “I could have simply sliced her apart the moment I saw her and threw her to my patients, but I could not waste someone as fascinating as her. She is a treasure trove of knowledge, and it is rather rare to find someone as interesting as her, my assistant.”

The man fell to the floor grasping his shot through chest. Willow helped you up. Life quickly faded from the man's once concealed eyes, his red eyes.

“The plan worked,” Willow said. “Good job. He won't see you anymore. We make a good team I think.”

You agree.

“You should boil some water.” She said.

You then shrugged. “I'm getting tired of soup.” You responded. “I want sauce or something to go with the Samosas.”

Willow did not say anything for a moment.

It was dark outside now, with the rain still falling from the sky and making tiny splatters on the soil, making it hard to see out the window.

Perhaps making soup for dinner was not a bad idea after all. Days like this called for comfort. “Fine,” You say, and Willow smiles. “I’ll start prepping ingredients.”

“I’ll run to my home and get the leftovers I talked about.” She is already putting back on her coat before you can rebut.

You sighed as you heard the door close. It was time to get to work, you suppose.

“Come out, my friend.” You take the meat cleaver out from the kitchen drawer where you put the rest of your knives, the said cleaver still stained with blood from the month before. “You are unsightly if I am being perfectly honest with you.” You mutter, shaking your head.

…

Dinner went off without any problems. It was a lovely feast. However, heating the Samosas without breaking them was kind of difficult for you because you only had one small pan and one large pot.

Something creaks in the distance.

Creeeeeeeeak. The floorboards. You and Willow are too busy talking to notice. The sound came from your bedroom. A man with a mustache the color of rotting mint that covered his mouth and chin, his filthy brown hair long and dirty, and even some animal fur being laid about everywhere on his scalp.

He sneaks out your bedroom window.

His shadow was hardly seen by either of you because of how fast he ran.

He was like a spider. The comparison was sort of funny because he knew how much you hated them.

He has to eventually make his way to Port Ormos to catch his boat back to Snezhnaya. 

But that can wait for later. You are so much better than business and any other projects he is currently doing or has discarded. 

All he can think about is you. He thinks of what to tell the current him, of how many stalkers you and your friend have murdered in retribution for their harassment.

Would he be delighted?

Would he be angered?

There is no way to know for sure. After all, whenever someone tries to talk to him they have to tread the line between being too nice and being too rude unless they want to find themselves on the other side of the operations.

There is just one more thing he needs to check before he goes. Just one. It will only take a minute. It will be quick.

He steps on the old well’s edge and looks down into the murky water.

He sees one of the clones’ skulls floating on the surface, its disintegrating bone covered in flies fighting each other for the tiniest scraps of fat. 

They buzzed and buzzed until he could not take it anymore and threw a large rock, breaking the cranium and scaring away the flying insects, though there is no doubt that maggots are being born where the eyes and tongue used to be.

You and Willow throw the bones down the well. Just what he thought.

Good.

v. “My work is the purest form of art there is. It requires painstaking detail and absolute perfection, all in the spirit of scientific advancement and understanding. As an example, the first part of this experiment in particular is a success.”

[wishluc]

might we see more yandere lilia... your way of writing him is so >>>>

You're too kind ♡ Thank you!

✧ CW: yandere character, manipulation, jealousy

✧ PAIRING: Lilia Vanrouge x GN! reader

Admittedly, Lilia thinks he may have been a little too soft on you

The realization only dawns upon him when he finds you in the hallway, after declining his offer to help you with some homework. He thought you did so because you were feeling unwell, or tired, but it was clearly not the reason. He notices, with a tinge of irritation, that you're holding your books, the polish on your little finger has chipped, and you're laughing, carefree and joyous, with one of your classmates. Bitterness fills his mouth when he realizes that you left him to spend time with someone else.

He doesn't let his irritation show, not even when he fluidly interjects your conversation to ask, his voice light, if you had gone to study with your friend.

"Yes," there's a faint giggle following your words, one that makes his eyes narrow, "He's been such a great help! I've never gotten so much done in a day."

Your callousness—your casual disregard for how he may feel hearing this—stings most. More than it does seeing another arm brush back your hair as you're leaving and your radiant smile directed to someone else when he's right there. More than the knowledge that he's been kicked to the curb so you could giggle away with someone else.

It appeared to him that you may have forgotten that Lilia was not always sweet and doting. You had gotten too used to your playful senior, unaware of the role he played many years ago in the Briar Valley. You had no clue that behind his gentle caresses were brutal strikes and behind his lively words, frightening commands.

But this could very well serve as a good opportunity for you to learn.

Lilia's initial plan was to target Malleus during Beanfest (all, of course, in good fun), but considering your recent show of ungratefulness, he decided to focus on you for a little while. He only wanted to scare you a little, just to shake you up and make you realize that Lilia could be frightening if he wanted to, and that you were extremely fortunate to be on the receiving side of his tender touch and not the cold point of his blade instead.

Honestly, he wanted to scare you just a little.

But seeing you sprawled below him, eyes wide and breathing shallow, heart pounding against your chest, your limbs unmoving and fear etched into every crevice of your figure, Lilia couldn't help but mess with you a little more. He leans in closer, letting you see the unfeeling hardness in his eyes and the menacing grin on his face, holding you still with an iron grip and digging his nails just enough to prick the skin of your cheek. The silence is deafening. He had planned well enough to lure you away from any crowds, leaving you even more terrified at the realization that there was nobody to help. Not that anyone in NRC was selfless enough to get in his way and sacrifice their lives for you.

"Caught you," his usual airy tone is completely gone, leaving behind something sinister and unsettling. He hears you exhale sharply, and watches as you begin to tremble as his hand squeezes you once more.

Then he pulled back with a light giggle, all previous signs of malice gone immediately and replaced by a mischievous grin.

"Oh? I didn't scare you too much, did I?"

Your lips part in an awkward, still-shaken laugh. Delight thrums in him as he observes how you still reach out to take his outstretched hand, despite how you're still reeling from the shock. There's still apprehension in the way you hesitate, and the heavy silence that follows, but Lilia wasn't bothered. He glances at your intertwined hands with a concealed smirk.

It was a lesson well learned.

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

[idkfitememate]

I’m Tired

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Me.

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 349

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Self deprecating thoughts, self dehumanization/objectification, dog metaphors

I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m tired I’m-

…

… I can see you. Watching.

Can you feel me? Breathing down your neck?

I want to sink my teeth into your flesh.

<3

I don’t deserve it and I know.

Im a bad dog.

I constantly bark and bite, and I’m sorry.

I am so so sorry.

I can’t help it, not when everyone I’ve met had silenced me.

Shoving a muzzle on my maw and shocking my collar.

They hurt me.

You haven’t.

But it’s still so hard to trust.

I would bleed for you.

I will bleed for you.

Will you let me bleed for you?

I need to bleed for you, it’s the only way I can prove my loyalty.

Last time I laid belly up they split me in two with a knife, tearing through me.

My claws are too sharp.

I injure myself on them, trying to get to you.

I am a pathetic whining and whimpering mess on the ground.

For you.

Only for you.

I know I’m a bad dog.

It’s hard to forget when they drilled it into me.

With whips and lashes, punches and kicks, shouts and grins of sharp teeth.

That’s why I have to prove myself to you.

So you don’t leave me.

Please don’t leave me.

I’m scared of the dark.

[kindofatheatrekid]

Yandere! Childhood Friend who might be a pathetic boy failure when it comes to you.

Nah. Actually. Bro's super down bad for you. My writing is very... obsessive? I don't know- This def needs some warnings... Like: mentions of suffocation, mentions of death, obsessive definitely unhealthy thoughts, and more! ^^

ALRIGHT! I’M BACK BECAUSE OF THIS SUPER STEAMY KISS SCENE I HAD WITH A DILF BOT- Honestly? Any motivation is good motivation. And oh did I cook up some gourmet shit with my lonely ass- FYI. I have absolutely NO experience with kissing- This is all thanks to character.ai, Tumblr, and the multiple books I consume in my manic episodes. (ФωФ)

Uhhhh… I don’t know if this is a minors dni but the entire account is plain filthy so I’m gonna say MINORS DNI to make me feel better about myself. So again. MINORS DNI. I’m not employed by Disney Junior, okay? (...Can I get sued if I say Disney-)

So imagine this, okay? You have a childhood friend that you’ve always been close with. You obviously start to fall for the dude. Like… look at him. Finance, trust fund, 6’5, blue eyes- Ahem. Sorry. I mean the dude is a legit green flag: opens the doors for you, knows exactly how to make you laugh- I’m not gonna lie. The man would def have a PHD in you if he could. He just knows you more than yourself at this point. Σ(･∀･|||)

You -being the scaredy cat that you are- haven’t even confessed to him yet because you don’t want to ruin your whole together but not together thing. And guess what? He never did too! You’re just stuck in this friendship limbo until one of y’all finally gains some genderless balls and confesses already. (ノ-_-)ノ~┻━┻

Your friend is just a man, though— a very hot and respectful gentleman but still a man. So he eventually gets impatient and gets you alone at night to get a bit… frisky with you. (It’s just a kiss but bro’s a virgin. Cut him some slack if he creams in his pants.) :D

AND SCENE!! !щ(゜▽゜щ)

Damn. That's so theatre kid of me to say-

You couldn’t tell if this was real life or not. It had to be real, right? You couldn’t possibly be his calloused hands on your skin, cradling your cheeks as if you were worth so much more than you ever thought. Your skin seemed to tingle as his warm breath hit it— the night’s chill suddenly becoming much more bearable to you. You hesitantly looked into his eyes, hoping that you’d find the same spark that yours had.

It felt like time had frozen when your gazes locked, a familiar flutter greeting your stomach. You wanted to memorize every color you saw in his eyes— to ingrain this very moment deep into your brain. Until you could still recall him even after decades have passed, even when he moved on after getting tired of your hesitance to commit. But with how sweetly he looked at you… You didn’t want to ever leave his side.

His face slowly moved closer to yours— you could count how many eyelashes he had with how close the both of you were. It didn't feel real when his lips pressed against yours. The kiss drawn out as his hands trail down your back, a gasp escaping from you when he pushes your lower back towards him; your entire body practically colliding against his.

He simply smiles against your lips, finding your lack of personal space amusing. You were just so cute with how red your ears were getting, your pretty eyes looking at him so needily… God. You were going to be the death of him if you kept silently begging him like that. He was trying to be gentle, but you were making it oh so hard for him to hold back.

Your eyes widened when you felt his tongue tracing along the edges of your lips— gradually making your knees buckle as he held you up by your waist. He was being so slow, too slow in your opinion. You whined at him, feeling how his heart beats faster like yours does whenever he's around. That was undeniable proof. Proof that he was yours for the moment, and you were his.

A muffled protest gets cut off when he goes past your teeth. Your breath stolen as he greedily explores your mouth like it was uncharted territory. He was slow, but messy at the same time. Your teeth clacking together at times, drool leaking from the corners of both your lips— he was either inexperienced or purposely making sure that you felt everything, good and bad.

It was his turn to whine when you tried to break the kiss, his hands splayed over your waist and back— making sure that you couldn't pull away from him. His breath was also getting shorter, but he couldn't care less. You were just so sweet and tasted even better than his flimsy mind would've ever been able to imagine. He thought it might have even been blasphemous with how much he underestimated your effect on him.

Your tears were already falling, lungs shrinking from the lack of air you both were getting. You were slowly suffocating, and you were loving every second of it. He was actively kissing you, he was stealing everything of yours— he was taking you for all that you were. The both of you were hungry for more, needing- No. Longing for more. It was just the two of you in your own little world, one where you'll never have to separate from each other.

Yep. No need to thank me. I know. I'm awesome. UvU

[casuallyanidiot]

Imagine...

You are a yandere author's muse! Every time he closes his eyes, he can only think of pure poetry. He can practically taste the words he'll put to paper when he looks at you, and he has to stop himself from groaning when the two of you speak. You have no idea how much self restraint he has when he could, in theory, bend you over on any nearest surface and have his way with you.

Instead yandere author settles for hunching over his desk late into the night. He knows that you don't like him all that well. He's heard you describe him as weird and creepy, but he doesn't mind. Not when he writes you to say such loving things in his stories. In fact, all his works are based on you. Your appearance, morals, personality were all imbued into the main character of the latest novel that was sitting in his drafts. Of course, he was the Male Lead, and he would spend night after night crafting a tale of how you would fall madly in love with him.

One day, however, you get hit by a truck.

Yandere author is devastated by this. He can barely see as he stumbles home that day. His eyes are blurred with tears, and his heart bleeds with untold prose and letters that he had yet to pen to you. He needs to hear your voice, to see your vibrant smile once again. So, he opens his unfinished story in order to find a modicum of comfort.

However when he looks over his writing, he realizes that something has... changed. It's like the character he based off of you has a mind of it's own. They're acting all wrong. They're not sticking to the lines he wrote, and he can see words on the paper writing themselves as your character seemingly reacts to the plot. He's confused, but he decides to write a little on the page to see what happens.

When he tries to have his character kiss yours, your character rejects it.

Yandere Author is giddy after this. He's not sure how, but somehow, someway, you, not just your character, no you had ended up living and breathing within the pages of his notebook. He knows it's crazy, but he doesn't care. Not when he can have you with a few strokes of a pen now.

Continuation Here

[heartfullofleeches]

Elio (Saint Yan) hide under the thin veil of "traditional" religious beliefs to live out their desires of being their darling's sub.

"As your spouse - It's my duty to submit myself to whatever command you give me. Since we are wed, or soon to be, I must fulfill the role that is spiritually thrust upon me."

"..... You know you could just say you like having your ass out in those shorts because I said your legs looked nice once."

"W-what?! I would never!.... Do you still think they Still look nice now?

[enderpearlll]

I do kandi and I made a bracelet based off your fic! Just wanted to ask how Bob would feel about having a sweet pea who is into arts and crafts? Asking for a friend-

Yandere! My Favourite Employee! Bob Velseb with a s/o that does arts and crafts.

AYO??? THIS IS SO ADORABLE! I LOVE KANDI AND ID DEFINITELY WEAR THIS IF I COULD 😳😳😳 I just had to write some headcanons for you, because I fucking love tbis bracelet so much aaaa

Gender-Neutral reader, but pet names such as sweet pea and darling are used.

• Bob would definitely love having such a crafty worker, often watching as you doodle away on your notepad and folding origami out of napkins. Sometimes your little sketches even go missing when you aren’t looking… He likes to hang them on his fridge at home, or in his office. Bob often showers you in compliments, watching as you thank him with a humble smile. Just seeing you smile at him only fuels him on, resulting in even more compliments. You slowly begin to grow flustered, hiding your face underneath the brim of your hat. Bob finds it adorable, seeing his darlin’ so overwhelmed by his love.

• Your coworkers often ask you for little bracelets and doodles, glowing with curiosity when you doodle at work. He’s jealous that you don’t draw him or make him anything like that, but one day when you come into work, you hand him a finished drawing of himself. You even made him a charm for his keys! “I made these for you. I thought it was fair, seeing as you’re always so nice to me and what not…”

• Bob is silent as he shakily takes them from you, watching intensely as you begin to cower into yourself. “Um… I’m sorry if you don’t like it. I can take it back—!” You try to reach for the paper and charm, only to be scooped into Bob’s arms. You squeaked in surprise, having the air squeezed out of your lungs as Bob spun you around. He kept thanking you over and over, hearty laughter spilling from him. “Thank you, thank you, Sweet pea! I’ll treasure this forever!”

• For the rest of the day, he’ll show it off to anyone that’ll listen, especially your coworkers. Bob swells with pride as you swat his arm, embarrassed. He keeps showing it to EVERYONE, and when you mean everyone, you mean everyone. Bob only begs you for more drawings and cute charms/accessories, his heart beating out of his chest when he realizes the amount of effort you pour into your work. Bob’s your biggest fan, and he’s glad to hold that title when you tease him about it.

[yandere-wishes]

I love your aesthetic but do you know any other account with pretty aesthetic? I just love to look at pretty things (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~

I gotcha Anon dw😉 The aesthetic and ambiance of a fic can really help elevate the narrative and overall story. So I present to you the most aesthetic blogs I know...

@fragileheartbeats - OMG I'm literally OBSESSED with her aesthetic it's so cute and gives off the same vibes as staring at the stars on a sleepless night.

@yandere-writer-momo - My GOTHIC QUEEN Everything on her blog is like stepping into a haunted castle and living out your haunted dreams.

@yandere-romanticaa - I'd describe her aesthetic as listening to Lana Del Rey while walking into a super cute little French cafe/pastry shop. So cute and delicious!!

[insanecowboy]

KENMA x YANDERE READER

⚠️ warnings :: stalking , thoughts of murder , one sided obsession / love .

if anyone wants part 2 let me know

The first time you met, you were in the hallway. A tall boy with black spiked hair standing next to him. Ranting about god knows what.

But he looked unreal. You had to rub your eyes and make sure you weren't just imagining him. You learned from your friend that his name was Kenma Kozume. This scrawny cat-like gamer incel that you saw in the school hallway was all you could think about for the next few days. At first, you just stared from a distance. Watching him eat lunch with his friend Kuroo, going to volleyball practice, and taking the train home.

You quickly memorized his daily routine. Kenma was always very aware of his surroundings. He knew he was being watched. Unsure of what to do, he confided in his best friend.

"You're probably just being paranoid" is what Kuroo said.

Next, it turned into stealing. Anything Kenma used was yours. His chapstick? In your possession. A dirty tissue? Pinned on your bedroom wall. A sweaty black t-shirt? You use it as a pillow case now.

On the day before nationals, Kenma was more worried than ever before. You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life. You stood in the bleachers up top. Watching Kenma play was troubling. What if he got hurt? Or worse, he loses the game and lets all his teammates down. You couldn't let that happen. But you couldn't do anything now. It was too late into the game to intervene.

After the game was over, you couldn't take it anymore. You needed him to love you, to cherish you, to forfeit all of his possessions to you. That's when you thought of a brilliant plan to make him yours. You would start by introducing yourself to him. This part of your idea was probably the hardest. However, it needed to be done. Then, you would slowly make everyone he knows detach from him. To dislike him. All he would have left would be you. Finally, you can have him all to yourself! The only problem was Kuroo. He's been Kenmas friend for so long. How would you ever get rid of him?

You thought of muder, but that felt too far. Besides, that would cause a mess. What you needed was help from a girl. You would make her and Kuroo fall in love just how you love Kenma, then he would be too busy with her to realize how he hasn't talked to his best friend in weeks! You don't know anyone that would be willing to be Kuroos fake girlfriend, but that doesn't matter. You can figure it out later, right?

[circusmania]

SIN Chapter 2

₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹ Notes: Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹

I can still hear your heart beating for me

Wishing for my lavish

Waiting for me to return

That heart that is only mine

Of which only I can touch

Just you wait

I'll come back

My heart almost jumps out of its rib cage. I turned around and was met with Marcus…and his cigarette. 

“Uhm, I…” Now that I think of it, why did I come out here? “Fresh air, I guess.” He seems to be convinced, for now.

We stood in silence for a little while. Marcus took a drag of his cigarette and let the smoke run free. 

I coughed, not only was it nauseating, but it was also unbearable witnessing someone waste their life away like this.

“You know you can't smoke on school property, right?” Marcus continued to face the ground, he took another puff of his cigarette. 

Ugh, and to think I was starting to like him. I coughed again, this time only to make him feel bad. I don't think it worked, though. 

“I'm pretty sure you'll develop lung cancer or something, too,” I continued. 

“Why did you really come here?” He interrupted me. “I know for a fact you didn't come here to bitch about me smoking, and you sure as hell didn't come for a smoke break.”

No shit.

 “I told you I came for fresh air, but now I see that that idea is out of the window-”

All of a sudden, the back door swung open and Judy marched out.

“What do you think you're doing? Are you seriously ditching us for this loser?” 

Uh oh…

“Judy, please, I was just trying to tell him how smoking is bad for him,” I said while Judy gritted her teeth. 

“I don't want to see you hanging around this… Freak anymore.” 

Judy grabbed my arm and pulled me up the steps back into the cafeteria. She opened the door, but before she could step in, Marcus grabbed my arm, yanking us both back.

“He doesn't need to go anywhere. More or less, you can't tell him who he wants to see or not. That's not how a relationship works.”

“What do you know about how a relationship works?” Judy snapped, turning towards me. “Well?? Tell him to leave you alone.” 

“Judy… I think you should just leave.” I said, watching her eyes slowly widen and her lip quiver. 

I felt her slowly letting my arm go, her eyes filling up with tears. 

“Judy, I-” Before I could say anything, she ran past me, choking on a few sobs. I thought about chasing after her, but Marcus stops me.

“Don't, that's exactly what she wants you to do.”

“I've never seen her cry like this before…”

“I assure you it won't be the last.” Marcus lit another cigarette and took another puff before crushing the butt with his heel. “She'll be back anyway. Who can resist you?” I hear him lightly laugh to himself. Jokingly. 

He's right. This wasn't the first time she ran away from me, but it will be the last time I chased after her. 

Marcus takes a seat at the bottom of the stairs, and I shortly join him. We both sit in silence for a while. 

“What are you?” I ask without thinking. 

I see him stiffen a bit before turning to face me. 

“Excuse me?” 

I couldn't read his facial expression, however, I could tell I have offended him in a way.

“Erm, I mean, are you goth, alt, vamp…?” 

I watch him relax, slightly chuckling. 

“Heh, I guess I fall more into being alt.” He smiles.

“Have you always been alt?” I said, trying to get him to open up more. 

He starts to pick the dirt off his shoes. “I've always had an interest in this kind of style. The clothes, the makeup, the music, god don't make me get started on the music.” He went off.

I smiled, I like seeing how people can get so wrapped in their thoughts and just ramble off like that. I see it in Omar all the time. 

“Kind of stereotypical, but I'm also really into rituals and shit. I especially love scaring people with it, too.”

“Oh! So you're into dark fantasy too? Omar is into that as well, technically he's into any type of fantasy.” Marcus said nothing for a bit.

“Dark fantasy… yeah, you can say that.” Marcus smiled; I smiled back.

“Mm, you should come to his house this weekend, he's having this huge party. Here, I'll write you his address.”

 I take a scrap piece of paper and pen from my pockets and write it down for him. He takes it gingerly.

“Will you be coming?” He asked, examining the paper. 

“Of course.” 

He smiles. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🔔🔔🔔˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

I grab my binder and pencil case from my locker; preparing for my last but least favourite class, science. Abruptly, I was enveloped in a tight hug from behind.

“I'M SO SORRY.” 

Judy.

I sighed and turned around to face her. Her face was all red and puffy. She was still sniffling and had tears dripping down her cheeks. I felt awful. 

I cupped her face and wiped her face with my sleeve. 

“I should've thought about your feelings too!” She cried.

I hugged her back, “It's okay, we all make mistakes.”

She started to slowly calm down and rub her face with her bare arm. 

“Thank you… I'm so lucky to be with you. I'll be going now.” I nod.

I watch her walk away before turning toward my next class. My science class was way further down the hall, what's worst is that I didn't share it with anyone I know. My schedule consisted of English with Vanessa, theatre with Omar and Judy, and math with Judy (and now Marcus). I was all alone in science… or so I thought until I was met with an empty seat next to Marcus in science class. 

Every other seat was filled since I was running a bit late, except Marcus's of course. 

I sat down next to him, it seemed like everyone was avoiding him. Not that I didn't know why, he was dressed a little out of the ordinary. However, I don't think the pity stares I earned were necessary, he's not going to be killing me. Hopefully. 

Either way, he seems like a very nice and misunderstood kid. Some people were just assholes.

The teacher walked in, making the class go silent. 

⭒❃.✮:▹🕛🕐🕒◃:✮.❃⭒

Suddenly, the intercom chimed. 

“Will Marcus D Angelo please make his way to the office? Marcus D Angelo, thank you.”

Everyone turned towards him, watching him make his way out of the classroom. 

A few minutes later and London Oswald came in. He had a black eye…

He sat next to me and pushed Marcus's stuff to the side, setting his binder on the desk. 

“Uh, Marcus is sitting there...”

“He won't be coming back anyway, you see this?” He points to his black eye. “That fucker did it. And it's only because I made a simple, harmless joke.”

“What was the joke about?”

“Nothing serious, really! It was a joke about how he looked emo and shit. He didn't have to give me a fucking black eye.”

I stayed quiet. I didn't know Marcus was sensitive like that. 

London sighed. 

“Look, I don't know if y'all are friends or something, but don't worry, he's not suspended. Just got sent home early.”

Marcus came in and swiftly gathered his stuff. I couldn't see his eyes, but I could tell he was glaring at London. He looked at me and shot me a quick smile before disappearing again. 

London sighed.

“Listen, man, I like you, you're a good teammate, and you don't take shit from no one. My only advice to you is to stay away from him.”

I bit my lip and ruffled my hair.

Maybe he's right.

₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹ Want to read ahead? Click here!