#yandere tom hiddleston

[five-miles-over]

Can you write a one-shot about Yandere Jaguar Tom when he became obsessed with an innocent woman and starting to stalking her sending her gift and flowers, the woman tried to explain that she is not interested in him, but Tom doesn't listen to her and one day he became tired to just stalking her, what do you think?

Thanks for the request, and thank you for your patience

All I Long For, All I Worship and Adore

Pairing: Yandere Jaguar!Tom Hiddleston x Reader 

Warnings: stalking, brief mention of drugging, obsession, kidnapping

As soon as the engines came to a halt, you exited the train and briskly walked towards a small bistro. Located on Great Suffolk Street, it was one of your favorite spots in London. In your mind, there was no better place to be on a Friday evening.

Much to your relief, the place wasn't terribly crowded, and you were able to find a table within minutes of entering. You removed your coat to reveal a pretty navy dress that perfectly suited your body type, and smoothed your hair with your fingers.

"Good evening, madam." A waiter - bearing an accent distinct to Essex - handed you a menu.

You glanced at it for a moment, and then gently handed it back to him. "Thank you, I think I'll go with my usual. Pan-fried prawns with no coriander, and chips please. Curry on the side."

"Of course, madam." 

Strange, you thought to yourself. He never asked you for your drink order. No worries, perhaps he would return after some time. And if not, then you would tell him when he brought your food.

With small sigh, you rested your head upon your hand. Throughout the week, you had wanted nothing more than to escape your home for a little while. The same home, which you'd lovingly decorated and furnished into a sanctuary, was now turning into the setting of a nightmare.

It had actually began two months ago, with anonymous letters arriving at your doorstep. They were love sonnets at first, some of them extremely familiar to you. One of them read, 

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date."

And you actually loved them; no one had ever made you feel so beautiful inside. Some of the letters, though, were too…intimate for your liking.

"My sweet darling,

There is simply no perfect way for me to eloquently convey my feelings for you, please forgive me for being so forward with you.

I love you, my precious flower. I love you more than Cupid loves Psyche, more than Apollo loved Daphne, and far more than King Arthur loved Queen Guinevere.

From the moment I saw you on your way home, exactly twenty days before today, I knew that my heart belonged to you and no one else. I cannot stop thinking about you day and night. I think about your beauty and your sweetness, about how you are truly made for me.

You have made me feel a love more beautiful and powerful than anything I have ever read or felt before. Perfect you are indeed, my lovely starlight.

And for months now, I have watched your every move - my eyes seem to always find you, I cannot help it - and I find myself each time admiring your numerous charms. I watch the way you smile at little things, like sunsets, ice cream, and film posters. I notice the way you run your fingers through your hair so playfully and absent-mindedly…oh, were I one of those fingers that I could caress you so.

One day, I promise that you will be mine. Surely now you are aware of my deep amorous feelings for you. I will make sure that we are together forever, even if I must butcher the whole world to win your love. 

Nothing else matters - you belong to me, for you have captured my heart, my lovely starlight. And one day, I know that I will steal your heart as well.

Yours truly,

Tom

At least now there was a name that you could associate with the stalker.

Then, the letters began arriving at your doorstep with gifts - Godiva chocolates from the Gold Collection, bottles of perfume from Gucci and Prada, and seasonal flowers wrapped in tissue paper. Each gift came with a little notecard that said,

"Thinking of you, my lovely starlight. Fondly, Tom."

The first few times, you took the gifts to the police,hoping that you might be able to find out who was apparently stalking you. Maybe the police could issue a restraining order, but your efforts were in vain. Without a face or a physical description, they could do nothing.

Once, while you were leaving the police station, you found a black Jaguar parked incredibly close to the building. Leaning against the car was a tall gentleman wearing a white button down shirt, black trousers, and shined shoes. Everything about his appearance was immaculate, from his unblemished skin to his jet-black hair.

"My lovely starlight," he addressed you, causing you to stop in your tracks. The gentleman grabbed your wrist and studied you intensely.

"Tom." You swallowed, not meaning for the name to escape from you so suddenly. 

The gentleman tightened his grip. "You know my name…tell me, my darling, why were you sat the police station?" He glanced at the package in your free hand, and then returned his gaze to you. "You wound me, darling," he whispered with pity in his voice. "Don't you know that I adore you? My gifts are a token of my admiration for you. They were meant for you to have."

"I don't want them," you stiffly answered, trying not to look into his eyes. 

"You don't want them?" He echoed, his breath warm against your cheek. "Then I suppose I'll have to punish the ones who selected them. I'll bring you something more closer to your liking." 

With those words, he shamelessly kissed your knuckle and released you from his grip. You fled to the train station without looking back, only to find a box with a white, lacy set of lingerie at your doorstep the next morning.

"Ma'am?"

Interrupting your rumination, the waiter placed your food before you. And much to your surprise, he brought a glass of your favorite drink.

"How did you…this is my favorite, how did you know?" You asked, a twinkle in your eyes.

"Wasn't me, ma'am. It's compliments of the gentleman over there." The waiter pointed to another corner of the bistro, where Tom - who was sitting at his own table -  waved in your direction.

A chill rushed down your spine, your toes trembled inside your shoes, and your breaths grew shorter with each passing second. He knew you were here…

A jovial grin upon his face, Tom invited himself to the chair across from your table. He wore a black blazer and a slender silk tie of a similar hue, and carried a glass of champagne in his right hand. "How wonderful to see you again, my lovely starlight."

Tom clinked his glass against yours, and took a sip. "It's bad manners not to take a drink."

Not knowing what else to do, you took a drink from your glass. It was delicious, yes, but not good enough to fight the knots forming in your stomach. 

"Better." Tom reached across the table and gently clasped your chin, raising it so your eyes met his vibrant cyan ones. "You look very beautiful tonight, darling."

"Thank you." You gulped. After a moment of silence, you spoke up. "Tom…"

"I love it when you say my name," he praised. "It sounds perfect from your lips."

"Tom, I…I know you have…I know you've done all of these gestures, but I'm not interested in being with you."

Tom blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I don't want to be with you. I don't feel this way about you, and I want you to stop watching me. It scares me…"

"I see." 

You sighed with relief. "Oh. Thank you…you understand."

He nodded. "Still no reason we can't have a nice supper together." Tom mischievously grinned at the chips on your plate. "Those look delicious - I think I'll get a plate of my own."

"Alright." You looked down and licked your lips. Something just felt…off about this situation. Did he really just agree to stop stalking you so easily? Only one thing to do. 

You rose from the table and adjusted your dress. "I think I'll go freshen up - there's a ladies' room here." After Tom began talking to the waiter, you left.

Ten Minutes Later…

"Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like on

A-Jupiter and Mars"

You rubbed your eyes, finding yourself in the backseat of a car…with Tom in the driver's seat, casually singing along to the song playing on the radio.

"You are all I long for, All I worship and adore…" Tom sang, a slight breathiness in his voice. He pressed his foot on the accelerator, making the engine roar. Then, he turned to you with a grin.

"What happened?" Your eyes shot wide open at the sight of your state. Your hands were chained together with handcuffs, your feet were bound with a cloth, and there was a strange, sweet smell coming from your arms. "Tom, what happened? What am I doing here?"

"You were right," he simply said. "It was time to stop watching you."

"I…I don't understand. How did I end up here?"

Tom shrugged, making a turn at a green light. "What do you remember?"

"I asked to go to the washroom."

"Did you wash your hands?"

"I did…"

"Then what else?"

"I…I…" You faltered. "I wiped my hands…and then nothing."

Tom chuckled to himself, and this only made you more nervous. "I ought to give Dr. Laing a present." He smirked, "The soap and the paper towels you used were laced with anaesthetics. And before you try to guess, I did not use chloroform; its reputation is based on lies. Requires too much time, and keeps one unconscious for too little time."

"What will you do now? Are you going to hurt me?"

"Hurt you? Do you really think that low of me, darling?" He shook his head. "I would never do such a thing. I'm going to make sure we're together forever."

"This can't be happening…" You shook your head.

Tom continued to sing along with the radio, "In other words,  please be true

In other words, I love you…"

[kneamet]

dance crescent

Trigger Warning: angst, obsession, drabble, yandere

Word Count: 565

Character: loki/reader

dance crescent

He was trembling all over — thousands of sharp needles were stabbed into his body, it was burned with boiling water, and then permeated anew with treacherous sweat. His whole gut felt a trick, his hardened mind refused to accept the truth, only his clear youthful soul rejoiced. Never before had he felt the upcoming euphoria, mixed with the fear of being caught and incomprehensible. Constantly hidden, hidden from everyone in dusty libraries, Loki doubts again — however, it seems that at least something can get better in his life.

Trembling hands tightly squeezed the supple sleeping body — now his beloved was especially beautiful and beautiful: shiny, docile hair lying on the folds of his elbows; a peaceful face when she doesn't even care about the upcoming wedding with his stupid brother, doesn't try to choose costumes and argues with him about which service would be better to use and where to hold the event — in Midgard or Asgard. Loki smiles warmly, almost plunging into an endless pool of very different scenarios in his head and not even thinking about Thor.

In a secluded place, which failed not from the first attempt to find in the despicable Midgard, they will be able to enjoy each other, because Loki will never unfasten the handcuffs and will not give the keys. You were like the moon, reflected in a veil in every drop of wine. A thousand songs would not be enough for him, a thousand words would not be enough — it was almost impossible to describe you, his queen; an ideal person created by the Norns personally to him, so that Thor would not talk about his pure love there; no matter how many moans Loki heard from the next room; no matter how much he spied on them, immediately turning into a statue, he knew — he knew that his queen was created for him.

The darkness is boundless, only the ashes knew what it meant to burn to the ground, and it enveloped him from head to toe. He hated everything, but he could not incinerate anything — exactly at that moment, exactly at that second, when his cheek absorbed so much salt after his mother's death, she came to him. She came like a crescent moon, and he needed her—needed her as the wind needs dust, as sparks are important to the fire. And she saved him at that moment — the moon was blooming with a bright bud, and she was that very Goddess, diligently pronouncing everything: "don't cry, because tears don't suit you."

His heart was burning — he was addicted and sick, all the stars were against it, but moon dust was the best drug. Loki wanted to learn how to fly at night, so that he could be closer to the moon, only lying in bed, and again plunge into boundless salvation and kind words. He involuntarily looks at her again, looks at all the flaws of the face, finding them insanely gracious and elegant — you are different from all the others, and Loki is not surprised why his brother was so fascinated by you and the Midgard charms.

He believed that he would never succumb to the charms of girls, but she changed everything. Roses love, roses wither. And their life is short — your and Loki's life will now be filled with real, sincere and noble feelings.

Dance, crescent moon, dance just for him.

@mykinkyyandere​, i hope you enjoyed it! is there anything else you want to ask for? (and i hope can ask, but when will your requests be opened? i would really like to send you something). and while i posted this, i accidentally apparently did something wrong and the request was deleted, but i can't find it. i think there's nothing wrong with that? but sorry if that's not what you wanted

[clandestineloki]

mob!boss loki who smiles sweetly when he sees you at the entrance of his lair fidgeting with the paper bag of lunch you cooked for him, thinking of kissing everywhere on your face as a thank you and he makes his way to you while thinking of getting you a nice necklace

that smile fades away when one of his men "accidentally" bumps into you, the paper bag bursting and spilling all your hard work on your shirt. before the tears in your eyes can even begin to fall down your pretty face, mob!loki has the bastard on the floor, and "accidentally" stabs him in the stomach seventeen times until what was once this man's stomach is a disgusting mess of red guts on the expensive floors.

he turns to you, a little worried that you're terrified now that you've seen what a violent monster he is, but you're kneeling on the floor still picking up the remnants of your ruined food, a gloomy look on your face as you look to loki sadly. he sighs fondly, and pulls you into his arms, petting your hair while his guards clean up both messes in the hall. he whispers a promise that he isn't mad at you, and he loves you very much and is very thankful you went through all that to make him a nice meal, even if he didn't get to taste it :(( he stands up, holding you in a princess carry, asking you if you want to eat somewhere fancy or have a picnic, but you're distracted by the specks of blood on his perfect face. he did that... for you?

it kind of sparked a weird but good feeling inside you, the thought that he had murdered someone without a moment's hesitation but treated you as if you were made of glass. you've never felt this cherished and you swear you're a good girl (and loki tells you that you are) but you can't help but be a little aroused by his obsession. what if someone flirted with you in front of loki? would he tie the bastard up and force him to watch your pretty cunt get ruined by your husband? would that be the last thing this unfortunate soul sees before loki slits his throat? and would he come back to you and kiss you sweetly, initiating another round of passion with you with another man's blood on his hands?

[yanderemcu]

Yandere Loki Alphabet

A=Affection (How do they show their love for you) 

Hair playing, hugging,kissing,resting against you, hand holding, cuddling

B=Bound (How much do they share with you) 

He's not that open but tries to trust you

C=Cruel (How do they punish you) 

Isolation,yelling,violence, spanking,starving,silent treatment

D-Desire (How long until they take you) 

3 months

E=Even (To what level are they dominant) 

A little dominant

F=Future(What are their future plans for the two of you) 

Get married, have 2 kids,get a cat,turn you immortal

G=Gifts (What do they give you) 

Jewelry books,daggers,clothes,sweets,blankets, flowers,Asgard stuff

H=Hell (Worst experience with them) 

Angry moments,punishments, jealous moments, times with his family

I=Insane (How insane did they get because of you) 

9/10

J=Jealous(How easily do they get jealous) 

Very very very easily. Someone looks at you they are dead

K=Killing (How do they handle killing) 

Very brutal and painful

L=Language (What is their love language) 

All of them

M=Manipulation(What could you do to get your way) 

Nothing

N=No (To what strength would they go for you) 

He'd do anything for you

O=Obsessed (How obsessed are they with you) 

10/10

P=Pet names(What do they call you)  

Darling,sweetheart,dear,my queen,pet,doll,love,angel,anything with my

Q=Quit (How would they act if you died) 

He'd be completely broken,alone and crying

R=Runaway (What are your chances to get away) 

No chance

S=Stalking (How good are they at stalking you) 

8.5/10

T=Type  (What type of yandere are they) 

Jealous,Possessive, obsessive,clingy,Manipulative, stalker, controlling, sadistic

U=Unique (Different from other yanderes) 

Sees you as a pet

V=Vine (How would they feel if you fought back) 

Loves the game

W=Will (Would they do anything against their loves will) 

Holding,force feeding,ties you up

X=X-Ray (How much do they keep hidden from you) 

A lot

Y=Yearning (How much do they want you) 

7/10

Z=Zzz (How do you two fall asleep together) 

Cuddles you tightly in bed

[11queensupreme11]

tom hiddleston wouldn’t haven become a crazy yandere either 😔😔 percy’s luck is really 📉📉

she ended up with walmart!loki 😔

[angelyuji]

Omg can we please have some (Cillian Murphy) Jonathan Crane soft yandere hcs? His voice is so soothing and his gaze is so intense, honestly I would be like, “WHATEVER YOU SAY” like I desperately need that man to call me, in his deep voice, his “Darling”

I would simply melt into a puddle

i genuinely cant imagine scarecrow as a soft yandere but i get u loll

cillian murphys voice is genuine crack to me

oscar issac, tom sturridge, tom hiddleston, like mY GODDDD their voices are all so tytdufyi05rgcl;po90i876t5redfxvc bnm,.l;'

[ohworm-writes]

✰☆★—RULES FOR REQUESTING—★☆✰

“I love YOU.” “A horrible decision, really.”

✪ GENERAL RULES ✪

This is primarily a SAFE FOR WORK blog. Although I am willing to write NOT SAFE FOR WORK fanfiction, that is not the focus of this blog. I prefer to write safe for work fanfiction, but, if you happen to share a thought, idea, or request I'm keen on, I'll answer it to my comfortability. That being said, if it's something that in nature of being suggestive (ex. innuendos, heavy petting, and cut-offs before the actual act), I'm completely willing to write for this without hesitation!

This is also a ‘X READER’ blog strictly, as has been stated, which depicts a ‘character x reader’ relationship. I am not a shipping blog, I am a self-shipping blog. If this is not what you are looking for, look elsewhere.

If not specified, readers will remain GENDER-NEUTRAL. I am completely fine and willing to write for ANYONE, no matter physical features, mental abilities and et cetera. If I am unfamiliar with the topic, prompt or whatever else may be in the request, believe me when I say I will do research to fulfill this prompt in a way that is as accurate as possible. 

✪ FORMATTING ✪

Please do SPECIFY the fandom and character you wish for me to write for. You can give me a pre-written prompt, choose from a prompt list I may reblog, or leave me to my own devices. If you want me to write something that might be seen as an ORIGINAL CHARACTER, this including a name, very specific attire or accessories, et cetera, please send it to me via DM or ask box while off of anonymous. I have no problem writing it, but I don’t want to clog people’s dashes or the tags with something not many people could relate to.

I have no problem writing gore, so request as you please. I am alright with writing polyamorous requests. I will do Female!readers, but i’m slightly uncomfortable with that. As a gender non-conforming person, it is something that i’m not too fond of, but I will write it. All I ask is that you don’t only request it. That being said, I am completely alright with writing for Male!readers.

I CANNOT PROMISE that all requests will be written. I only answer requests that I find joy in writing for. I may take a while to write requests, so give me time and don’t rush me.

✪ WHAT I WILL NOT DO ✪

Under NO circumstances will I write about any of these topics. Few may change in the future, although that is highly unlikely, so do respect and understand I will not be swayed here. I am not the blog to look at if you like these things. If you're unsure if something you're thinking about requesting is something that aligns with my rules or what I will not write, send me a DM or ask and I'll tell you.

Yandere, kidnapping, dark content, abusive or toxic relationships, suicide, non-consensual or dubious-consensual interactions, ABO dynamics, outright self-harm (I can write about scars, but I will not write about the action happening whatsoever), ‘Character x Character’ ships

✪ WHO I WRITE FOR ✪

Minecraft Youtubers & Other Content Creators

c!Origins!Technoblade, c!irl!Origins!Wilbur Soot, c!irl!dad!Origins!Jschlatt, c!irl!Origins!Tubbo (Platonic), c!irl!Origins!Tommy (Platonic), c!irl!Origins!Ranboo (Platonic), c!irl!Origins!Niki, c!Origins!Philza, Michael, c!irl!Quackity, c!Cellbit

Boku no Hīrō Akademia (My Hero Academia)

Aizawa Shouta, Histoshi Shinso, Ochaco Uruaka, Denki Kaminari, Tamaki Amajiki, Rumi Usagiyama, Toshinori Yagi, Tamaki Keigo, Tokoyami Fumikage, Eijiro Kirishima, Mina Ashido, Touya Todoroki, Atsuhiro Sako, Himiko Toga

BNA ビー・エヌ・エー (BNA: Brand New Animal)

Michiru Kagemori, Shirou Ogami, Nazuna Hiwatashi, Marie Itami, Pinga

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare

Captain John Price, John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alex Keller, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell (Platonic), Nikolai, Vladimir Makarov, Phillip Graves

Actors & Actresses

Note: I will only be writing for their characters, not the real people.

Tom Hiddleston (Character(s): Loki Laufeyson, James Conrad, Robert Laing

Pedro Pascal (Character(s): Din Djarin, Javier Peña, Maxwell Lord, Ezra, Dieter Bravo, Marcus Moreno, Francisco “Catfish” Morales, Joel Miller

Sophia Lillis (Charcter(s): Sydney Novak

Frank Grillo (Character(s): Leo Barnes

Andrew Garfield (Character(s): Spider-Man

Alfred Molina (Character(s): Otto Octavius

Willem Dafoe (Character(s): Norman Osborn

Oscar Isaac (Character(s): Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Poe Dameron,  Duke Leto Atreides, Moon Knight (all associated characters), Jonathan Levy

Ethan Hawke (Character(s): Todd Anderson, Arthur Harrow

OFF

The Batter, Zacharie

Imawa no Kuni no Arisu (Alice in Borderland)

Shuntaro Chishiya, Ryohei Arisu, Suguru Niragi, Daikichi Karube

Pokémon

Guzma, Kabu, Raihan, Leon, Nessa, Clavell, Larry, Milo, Piers

Night in the Woods

Mae Borowski, Bea Santello, Gregg Lee

Beastars

Legoshi, Louis, Pina, Haru, Juno, Jack

The Outer Worlds

Phineas Welles, Parvati Holcomb, Felix Millstone, Ellie Fenhill, Maximillian DeSoto, Nyoka Ramnarim-Wentworth III, Martin Callahan

Arcane

Jinx, Viktor, Caitlyn Kiramman, Silco, Vi, Ekko, Vander

Far Cry

Faith Seed, Joseph Seed, The Judge, Grace Armstrong, Dani Rojas, Antón Castillo, Diego Castillo (Platonic)

Marvel

Spider-Man, Iron Man, Wanda Maximoff, Loki Laufeyson, Doctor Strange, Deadpool, Hank Pym, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff, Matt Murdock, MJ (Michelle Jones)

Jurassic Park

Alan Grant, Ian Malcolm, Ellie Sattler

[thefangirlscientist-blog]

Imagine introducing your fiancé, Tom Hiddleston, to your family and everyone being shocked and jealous.

How many were you teased about being single? How many times did everyone tell you about becoming a lonely cat lady? Too many darn times to count! Your family always criticised you for everything you did. About your looks, your job, school- the list was endless.

You were a little nervous to introduce Tom to your family. But the sweetheart insisted, convincing you that he’d charmed anyone who met him. You believed him, of course, because that man could probably charm the pants off anyone(he did with you;) literally!)

“Y/N! Long time no see, how you been? Still single, I’d wager?” One of your snarky cousins smirked.

“Actually, no. Y/N is tied to me, unfortunately. But I do get the pleasure of calling her wife very soon.” Tom interjected, engulfing you in a warm embrace.

You could swear you saw her eyes pop out. Mouth agape, your cousin said nothing and shot you a dirty look.

Everyone in your family flocked to Tom, bombarding him with questions and requests for pictures. He was a gentlemen, meeting your family with a smile and politeness.

Your mother gave an approving look. She came up to you and whispered, “You better give me some grandkids! Imagine how beautiful they’ll come out!”

Tom came up behind you and held you, “What do you say future Mrs. Hiddleston? Little carbon-copies of us running around?”

You kissed him and smiled, “You’ll have to wait and see Mr. Hiddleston.”

[darkh3llscap3]

Least dangerous to most dangerous marvel yandere characters (pt.2)

A/n: Sorry I posted his ome late but here it is. I know it doesn't have all the characters but these are the ones I thought about at the time. Also these are all my opinion

Warnings: mentions of yandere/creepy behavior, stalking, gaslighting and emotional manipulation.

General Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

5. Bucky Barnes

Possessive/Protective

If Bucky fell in lovw with you and he became obsessed he would do any thing to have you. He will stalk you relentlessly until you give in. But lets say you don't his mind will go to kidnapping and he will find a nice secluded place for you two to live out the rest of your lives. He would be able to fake your death or something that will insure no one will come looking for you. He is very possessive and will let nobody get close to you in the time he hasn't won your heart over.

4. Loki Layfeyson

Manipulative/Possessive

When Loki find soemthing he wants he wont stop until its his. Same thing with you he will try to charm you first but it will be more to get vlos2e to you. Then he will start to gaslight you and get you away from your friends and family till hes the only one you can bear to be with. He will eventually have you run away with him somewhere far away where its only you two.

3. Peter Parker

Delusional/Manipulative/Clingy

Peter is within the top 3 because of how emotionally maniplative he can be. He will try to get with you naturally and it eventually works. The second your together he starts getting obssessive and not liking that your hanging with your frisnds more than him. Is he not enough for you? He will start gaslighting you to stop seeing your frismds and staying home with him. If you ever try to leave he will start crying and bagging for you to stay until you feel guilty for even thinking of leaving him. His concince is very low due to the fact that hes so delusional even if you didnt like him to begin with he will make up any excuse just to live in his fantasy of you loving him. So when he kidnaps you because you didn't fall for his manipulation he will make sure to spend all morning, afternoon, and night by your side.

2. Tony Stark

Possesive/Obsessive/Rich

Tony is a very powerful and smart man we know that. Once he lays his eyes on you he's obsessed instantly. He starts becoming very possessive even though you haven't formally been introduced. When you do meet it isn't a coincidence at all. The second he gets back home he will look you up and read hour and hours for your information. When he asks you out if you say yes he will spoil you and give you the world. But if you say no he will make life very hard for you until your begging at his feet for his help.

1. Wanda Maximoff

Delusional/Manipulative/Clingy

Wanda is the most dangerous to me cause if you don't accept her love for you she wont take it nicely. We've seen what she did in WandaVision she will force those feelings on you and no one can stop her. Shes a very powerful woman and will have you if that's what she desires. If you do accept her then your never leaving her side she will be with you 24/7 latched on to a body part of yours. In her head all of this is okay because she loves you. Shes protecting you what llre could you want? The second you start to lose feelings she'll know but that's a easy fix when your sleeping she will impact your mind

[five-miles-over]

Can you write a one shot about Yandere Prince Hal where he became obsessed with a servant in his castle please?

Thanks for the request and for your patience, anon! Hope you like it :)

You Will Be Mine

Warnings: yandere behavior, forced kissing, obsession

Attempting to outdrink Falstaff was never a brilliant idea.

Like a fawn learning to walk for the the first time, Prince Hal staggered through the halls of the palace. The rays of the morning sunlight stung his eyes like pointed needles, and his head was filled with an all-too-familiar pain It felt as if someone had been striking the insides of his head, a bell ringer inside his skull. His arms and legs were as heavy as bread dough, and his throat was more parched than a barren field.

"Uhh…." Hal winced, trying to wish his hangover away. As soon as he stumbled upon a bedroom that looked like his own, the prince flopped onto the bed face-down. A female - presumably a servant of some kind - chirped immediately, asking if "His Majesty" would like some breakfast. 

How the hell was she so cheery at this hour?…Was it even time for breakfast? Hal wondered, having no knowledge of the exact moment he fell asleep at the tavern. His stomach churned. "No, just something edible," he muttered.

As soon as he could hear the sound of the servant's footsteps leaving his chamber, Hal groaned into the pillow while his head throbbed. This was not the first time the prince of England found himself in such a state after a wild night. After this ordeal ended, Hal would probably meet up with his friend John Oldcastle in the forest, and play a prank upon some unfortunate travelers that happened to be passing by. And after that, they might sweet-talk Falstaff into singing something pretty, and they might be able to enjoy some more of that special, far-too-expensive-for-you wine Falstaff kept bragging about…actually scratch that, wine was probably the last thing that Hal wanted to think about now, let alone drink. 

Holding a tray with slices of rye bread, aged cheese, a pitcher of mead with low alcohol content, and some honey reserved for the royal family, you made your way to the entrance of the prince's chamber. "Your Grace, I've brought you breakfast. May I come in?"

Who was this? Hal knew this voice was different than the voice of the maid who approached him earlier. But there was something inviting about the way you spoke, something…that made him wish for more. "Come in." 

The prince rolled onto his side, catching a glimpse of you as you made your way to a wooden table. All of a sudden, Hal no longer found himself concerned with his headache or his upset stomach. A new energy filled his once-fatigued limbs and his eyes were no longer afraid of the light, all because you entered his chambers. What sort of sorcery did you have that made him feel this way?

Hal's gaze followed you as you placed the tray on a table and fixed your hair. "Tell me your name," the prince commanded. 

You politely replied, telling him the name you were born with as well as the name that most people used to refer to you.

With a nod, Hal studied you. He couldn't quite explain why, but the more you spoke and the more he looked at you, the more…beautiful you seemed to him. Actually, beautiful was but a mere shallow word to describe the way that Hal saw you. Enchanting might be more suitable; your voice was luring him like a siren's call, and the nimble movement of your fingertips along your hair enticed him more than any half-naked tavern wench.

"Come closer. I feel fatigued to eat much," the prince lied. At this point, he was only looking for an excuse to bring you closer to him. 

You obediently sat on the edge of the bed with the tray in your lap, save for the pitcher of mead, which remained on the table. Carefully, you ripped a small piece of rye and the prince caught it in his mouth. 

Hal continued to enjoy your loveliness while he chewed each morsel, thoughts of kissing and touching you filling his mind. But this was far different than the lustful liquor-filled impulses Hal felt when he locked eyes with a wench or a prostitute in a bar. No, his feelings for you were more. He couldn't quite explain why he felt so much desire for you, and neither did he truly want to. All he knew was that you belonged by his side, that there was something that felt right about the rather-intimate position of sitting on his bed so close to him. 

After the prince cleaned the plate, one bite at a time, you bowed to the prince with a smile and promptly left…too soon for his liking, of course. Before he could protest or call your name, you had already disappeared from the room.

Naughty little fairy, Hal laughed under his breath. You did not even asked if you had his permission to be dismissed. Not that it mattered anyways…you already stayed long enough to leave a permanent imprint in his mind. And now, you left him with no choice but to find you, and to get you all for himself. 

Filled with a new energy and the hangover now long-forgotten, Hal roughly threw aside his bedsheets - not even caring that he was still wearing the clothes from last night - and strode into the hallway like a hunter entering a thicket. The servants present immediately halted their conversations and bowed as soon as they caught sight of him, but he barely regarded any of them. All Hal could think about was finding you. 

As he traversed throughout the palace, his pace grew quicker and his patience grew thinner, causing him to curl his fingers until his knuckles were white. He could not bring himself to stop moving until he knew for sure where you were in the palace. Nothing else mattered - not the flabbergasted looks from courtiers expecting him to be in some dirty tavern during this time of day, and not the the gossip among the old maids about which noble girl had been deflowered before her wedding date. All he needed was you, your dulcet voice, and your enchanting beauty. And when he found you, Hal would ensure that he would be the only one who could run his fingers through your soft hair, the only one who could wrap his arms around that lovely body of yours.

"Your majesty, some ale?" A male, young servant shakily approached him. Already aflame with his desire and exasperated at his inability to find you, Hal glared at the servant and threw the pint in the servant's face before continuing his hunt.

Hal finally found you out on one of the palace balconies, hanging a bedsheet to dry, surrounded by other laundresses. Your hair was tied back, save for a few strands outlining your delicate face. He wanted to approach you, dismiss the others, and passionately embrace you…but he did not. If he held you now and kissed your lips, he would not be able to stop. The desire to consume you would overwhelm him, like a drunkard with an unopened bottle of wine. So, he leaned against the entrance to the balcony, crossing his arms while eyeing you from a distance. 

He took in every detail of you, memorizing each and every curve, every detail upon your body that wasn't hidden by your loose dress. He watched you laugh without a care in the world while you went about your washing and cleaning, talking to the other laundresses. Yes, you looked to be enjoying yourself even while you toiled, but Hal knew that when he made you his, you would never have to lift a finger for anything. He would provide you anything and everything you needed, all for your unflinching loyalty and your undying love in return. For that, Hal would be ready to do anything, anything to keep you by his side.

Eventually, you and the other laundresses finished your work on the balcony and begin to chatter amongst each other, making plans for the night. Holding the empty baskets that once held dirty sheets, you all turned around and made your way to the doorway…only to silently curtsy as soon as the prince caught your eye.

"Ladies," Hal smirked at you all before courteously stepping out of the way so they could leave. But when you came forward, the prince blocked you with his arm.

You flinched, holding the large wicker basket. "Your Majesty…"

Hal commanded you to put the basket down, and clasped your chin so that your eyes were looking into his. He murmured your name like a prayer before asking, "What were you talking about with them?"

"We…we were talking about our lives…"

"And?"

"We had plans to go to the local bathhouse tonight…,Your Majesty"

"No," Hal sharply said. "I cannot let you go there."

Your eyes widened. "Why not, Your Majesty?"

"Because those places are filthy, and terribly unsavory things take place in those dreaded bathhouses." He stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I only want to protect you, my dearest."

"Your Majesty…"

"Hal," he corrected you. "Perhaps I can give you a bath, one far better and more deserving for a beautiful lady like you."

"Hal, you flatter me," you blushed, pretending to laugh at what seemed like banter

"The way you say my name is beyond perfect." The prince whispered in awe before crashing his lips onto yours. With one hand cupping your cheek, his other hand snaked around your hip and tightly held you. That was all it took for Hal to give into his desire for you, to venture past a point of no return. 

A whimper escaped your lips and your body tensed in his eery embrace. Yet somehow it only made the prince deepen the kiss until he could no longer breathe.

"The world is a scary and dangerous place," Hal gently said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "If you stay here, you'll be safe. In my arms." 

"I can't, I h-"

"I need you." The prince insisted, wrapping his large hand around your wrist with a deathly grip. "You don’t understand...I need to feel your small hand in my own, I need to hear your voice, touch your lips…you cannot turn away from me."

"I need to -" You tried to leave, but the prince maintains his firm hold upon you.

"We have a bond, my dearest. No one can ever imagine to know what our love is like.” Hal pulled you in for another, more passionate kiss. "And I will make you love me. I'm willing to break any rule for you, to burn the world for you, my everything," he whispered against your lips. "You will be mine."

[kneamet]

Dependence (19/19)

Trigger Warning: angst, drugs, death, suicide, withdrawal, homophobia

Summary: there were many charms in life. However, Tom Hiddleston, having tried the most forbidden ones, could no longer imagine his life without them. The rest for him was nonsense, not worth his attention. After all, in order to survive, he needs to find a dose, thanks to which he feels better, not paying attention to the other rabble that reigns around. He doesn't care about his mother, who brings men into the house; he doesn't care about his sisters, whom he envies; he doesn't care about the whole world. But soon his search for a new dose will turn into a search for a girl who has won a victory over his drug-addicted mind, absorbing him completely and occupying all his thoughts.

And he won't stop until he gets what he wants.

Chapter nineteen: eclipse

The morning was disgusting, unless you compare it with the evening.

Fucking cops! and what should he do now because of them? The thought of lying for three more days in this abandoned building, given only to God, did not favor Thomas at all, moreover, he felt disgust for it. Is he homeless or something? A homeless man, carrying all the money only for dope? Why did those damn cops have to ruin everything that day?

He was just returning home after an unsuccessful meeting with Mark — if it can be called a meeting, of course, and not just staying on the spot in order to wait for his best friend, — he was returning and hoping that his savior could help him. That she would do him a favor and comfort him once again, help and warm him up; like that time when he was hungry, scared and didn't know where to go. She will not be able to heal the wound, but she will calm down mentally, calm the raging soul, tell her in her wonderful voice that everything will be fine soon and he will recover.

However, his fantasies were not destined to come true — he stumbled upon police officers and cars. Scared. Scared like a fucking coward — and blamed himself for it — and ran away. Into abandoned building. No one will touch him there. No one would even think to look, even if Thomas knew: they had come for him, or rather, for Hayden, for his savior. They didn't need him, just as another item in the report, which they would put in the back drawer. And who is he? a simple drug addict, not worth a single word from his beloved savior.

Not even words. Sigh.

Her boyfriend, most likely, was now rejoicing at her rescue, kissing her on the lips, hugging and whispering all sorts of tenderness. He didn't go to work, stayed at home with her and bequeathed the report to other cops — Thomas knows how modern politics works with kidnappings: they will be happy to find a victim, but what about the kidnapper if, by punching through the database, he is recognized as some dashing actor without outstanding abilities, besides a drug addict? Nobody cares about him, but there are still two cars hanging around the house.

Why would they, what should they do? In this district... the law enforcement system has not been working normally in this district for thirty years, so why would it make money now? Men have been sitting in the police station since, probably, the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth II and doing nothing. They just drink coffee and dismiss any cases — have you been robbed? find. Raped? it's her own fault. Selling drugs to kids? not their problem, let the security of the school decide.

What were they paid for there? A good question, clearly for sitting out your pants.

Damn...

Thomas is lying on a small sofa, barely able to fit thanks to his height, which is why he has to hang his legs. It freezes — the body is pierced with needles, the hair is pulled out from the top of the head alternately, and boiling water is poured on the chest. It was as if a huge truck had driven through it, crushed it into parts, and the brigade rolled it into the asphalt, where cars began to pass. And he would feel everything, die of exhaustion. Water... The head is splitting, rattling, a second — and it will break into small pieces, which then collect and collect. Want to scream, want to scream, want to yell, want to climb the wall, want to break everything here! Break it, fuck! peel off the skin from the face and ...

Thomas was in pain.

From the pain in arm.

From the pain in the head.

From pain in all the body.

The pain was oppressive, burning, unbearable. He felt it everywhere, it has been absorbed into his veins since the first injection, since the time when he got hooked again, since the time when he quit theater and high art. Nausea was rising in my throat, everything was swimming before my eyes — there was no old broken in front of the sofa, there were no doors, carpet, walls, this basement. Wanted to puke.

And Thomas vomited.

All the beer that he drank this morning, all those chips that he ate just to avoid feeling pain in his arm, ended up on the floor. The T-shirt is wet. Fucking drool. Thomas howled, clutching his face with his left hand, pulling his eyelids, and clinging to the safety rail with his right. Fingernails cling to the upholstery — at least not to the wallpaper — and he is not afraid to tear it. His wet and sweaty body twisted and twisted, as if he was a circus performer and showing a performance. The voice in head kept humming something. Just a perfect day...

The bones were breaking, the sharp ends were digging into the eyes that he wanted to burn out. Couldn't blink, they stayed dry. The organs clenched into a ball, and the violently pounding heart burst out.

It's late, Thomas is sure, but he doesn't think about it. He's thinking about Mark, who's supposed to get him a fix, he's thinking about those cops, that damn about hayden's boyfriend! which probably took his dose from him! Fucking faggot fucking asshole fuck him in the pussy! Fucking shit cop fucking took his dose.

He took her to the police station.

They always do.

In consciousness — where is he? is he dreaming? is he still alive? or died? — he imagines his sweet savior. Lord hug him please please please help him! He needs you so much dear Hayden please! Help! Don't be like them like Mark like Mickey like Jim like his mother be better he beg you! And it seems to him that she touches him — it seems that she runs her hand through his curly greasy hair, smooths it and inhales the smell. He hasn't washed them for a long time, but she doesn't care. It seems that she is quietly muttering something about love, saying:

"That guy from the police is worthless, I understand, you're beautiful, you're better,” and he believes her at that moment. His savior can't lie! Otherwise, who is she in this case? She's not a liar! a small child wakes up in the creation, and Thomas, trembling, through tears and rage, pain, smiles at her, his savior, sitting in front of him, in front of this sofa, on his knees. She's beautiful, she saves him. It's not a dream, no, it's real!

He's sure.

Thomas is absolutely sure,

she's real.

it can't be slllllllleeeeeeeeeppppppppppp?

No, she's right in front of him.

his llve.

his

all his

FUCK. SHIT. FUCKIN

BITCH.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK

Lips are bleeding. Language too. It seems he accidentally bit it, but it doesn't bother. Want to tear up. He doesn't vomited. Nothing. Absolutely. Silence. Emptiness. There's not even a fucking clock tick. Completely. Strange. Excitingly. Shit.

Where the fuck is Mark? Shouldn't he have been here just a few minutes ago? What time is it? He doesn't know. Should not. There is no clock. The phone, too. He's at zero. Thomas, too. WHERE THE FUCK IS MARK.

FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK

Closing his eyes tightly, Tom immediately opens them and squeezes his shoulders even harder. Fucking withdrawal, fuck her. There has never been such a thing. Never. Even when Leo starred in this damn sand, he wasn't so bad, and he admired him once. Even when AC/DC released a new album in February, he was not SO happy. Fucking hand.

Die.

He wants to die. That would be easy, wouldn't it? By definition, he could quite easily do this, anyone has the right to commit suicide, but does it matter? No one will find him here, and he will lie here, like those old men from Mickey's stories, alone, being a decomposing corpse. He's not in any danger, he'll just leave. Tormented. Maybe jump off the roof?

This is an option. it's high up here. He's in the basement, but he can go up. Haven't been there for a long time. Can smoke, why not? Cigarettes are always there, but they don't help. That time there was wine and codeine, wine and valium. Wine and valium, it's so cute. It sounds good, there's something in it. Thomas turns over on his other side as the pain eases. Is he asleep? Alive? Dead? Why is he breathing? Why is it moving? Why is he humming Lou Reed songs in his head again?

How to assemble a TV? And how much will the new phone cost? — it must be very expensive, who can afford new ones now, why have cigarettes become more expensive? The new phones have very strange advantages that seem to Thomas extremely wonderfully naive: large screens, just like a tablet, a computer! Like in Mr. Finnegan's class! Then it was the nineties, but one of the parents wanted to buy computers. How much nudity there was!

She seems naked to him.

Thomas holds out his hand to her.

Beautiful.

She's with him, not with that damn cop, but with him, sitting next to him and muttering something, staring with huge eyes, peering into his face. Only the hair for some reason is not red, they are some kind... white, did she get an electric shock? He smiles at her eagerly, but hardly sees her. And the voice is so strange, not soothing, on the contrary, more gentle and with masculine notes. His rescuer tugs on his shoulder, trying to shake him up.

”Tom, Tom, look at me, I'm here, please, Tom," is that her? It's her... yes, it's her, how wonderful, beautiful his savior is. FUCK! He cries out when the wound pierces the whole body with pain."Tom!" the voice shouts, and Thomas tries to blink. "Tom, I brought a dose! It's me! I am! Mark! Tom, look at me!" and it's true: Mark is sitting right in front of him, on his knees, holding onto the side of the sofa, looking at his friend with a certain detachment and concern. What the fuck is he doing so late? Tom jerks forward maliciously, forcing the man to move away a little. He sits down on a small table, pushing the bottles away and stepping over the vomit.

"Give. Me. Dose." Tom barely utters, holding on to Mark's leg, and he just brings his eyebrows together tightly pursing his lips. But he doesn't take his hands away.

"Tom, you know...”

"GIVE ME A DAMN DOSE!” Unable to stand it, Thomas shouts, taking an upright position and grabbing his friend's shoulders even harder, pulling him to himself until he suddenly gasps in pain. Fuck! The hand! The wound grew and grew, there was no end to it; the point in the middle of the resembled not a tightened skin, only a dark purple color.

"My God..." Mark mutters softly, peering into his friend's wound, averting his confused gaze. He pauses for a second. "Listen, Tom, you can stay with me for now, I," however, seeing the menacing eyes of the man, only in a hurry takes out a small bag from his jacket pocket, but not with powder, but with pills — there are only a couple of them there.

"With you? With your Sarah? Offer me another needle, nerd,” Thomas quickly twitches, snatching the bag out of his hands, and immediately swallows the pill. The rest is for later.

Cristyl...

It's divine.

JESUS FUCK

HOW FUCKING AWESOME IS THAT...

His body gets rid of everything, and his breathing slows down a little. He looks at Mark again, only this time a little bleary-eyed. Meth worked somewhat differently, he continued, unlike heroin, to be aware of what was happening, albeit with several slowdowns. Nothing. It will pass. A couple of minutes to enjoy and everything will be fucked up.

“Listen, I really can, it's not difficult for me, Sarah won't bother, she's almost...”

"Mark, fuck, when are you going to stop saying that?" Tom does not hold back, speaking in a slightly detached and indifferent tone. He doesn't care about Mark's feelings right now — if there are any — he says whatever he thinks. Everything that's been on his mind for the last few years. About all his queer ways, about this voice, about this fucking whore Sarah, about this strange tattoo. "You can be fucking quiet for a couple of minutes. At least for a couple of minuts stop saying all your "oh, sorry, «listen» in that faggot tone. Fuck it Mark, what the hell...”

"Ae loe you.”

And these words definitely hit Thomas worse than the cops near the house — it should be remembered that he is high, and he does not control his actions. Tom looked at him in confusion and a certain disgust... It was a fucking shame to call him even a friend now! What a fucking friend he is, just a homo! No, there was no confusion, just disgust. Disgust and nothing else. Only hatred. He couldn't think rationally, meth overshadowed all thoughts, but he was sure of one thing — he hadn't liked faggots for a very long time.

"What the fuck? Mark what the fuck is...?” but Thomas does not have time to finish, as Mark approaches him in a second, pushing off from the table, and leans against his lips — gently and tremulously, clearly and softly—grabs his cheekbones, touching his hair with his fingers and seems to intend to prolong the kiss, but Tom only pushes him away. Fucking fucker, why the fuck did he get to him? He wasn't from... these. Hatred for Pinkman, rejection burns in his eyes; Thomas gets up, shrugging his shoulders and only walks away, annoyed by the lack of water nearby.

He is disgusted by it.

Want to wash this dirty kiss off lips. A man's kiss. That's why he just moistens his lips with saliva.

Mark is silent and there is silence in the room, comparable to the silence in the library. Although even there it is more ringing than here. Thundering silence, deafening silence, unpleasant silence, acting on nerves. Tom doesn't like to be left alone with silence, it lets all his fears and complexes out. Silence is deafening, allows obsessive thoughts to envelop the head with doubts that multiply like bacteria.

Fucking.

He have to do something, bitch.

He is still motionless, so Tom makes the first movements — he bypasses his former best friend, avoiding him like a passerby, like a person infected with a virus, and heads to the exit, to the door, allowing the ashamed Mark to be alone with himself. After checking if the cigarettes are in place — and smiling, because they were in his pocket — Thomas goes towards the stairs, wants to climb to the roof. The air allows you to think, enjoy the sensations. In any case, it's a long walk for him, four minutes, after all, the last floor.

And why the fuck did he do that? Thomas, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, was confident in his best friend, never doubted him, but now he gets spit on a wound that has not healed yet. He feels his stomach begin to ache, rejoices when he reaches the eighth floor, which means that there is not much left. But Mark and his betrayal still do not leave thoughts.

He was his best friend! The person he understood best! Where did he get it from, why did he become like this? Thomas was irritated by any questions that appeared in his head and could not calm down. He was nervous, clutching a cigarette, showering ash, shaking it off on the cement, and wrapped himself in a warm jacket that did not save from the cold. His heart was pounding wildly, as if he was running away from an angry policeman as a child when he dared to steal cigarettes with Mark...

Even in the memories there was Mark, damn him. Has he always been like this? Did he always have these queer ways? Why did he keep talking to them at all if he knew that neither Mickey, Tom, nor Jim liked faggots, Mickey always threatened them, especially at school. Why did stay? It is unlikely that he loved him so much that he continued to suffer ridicule from friends for this.

Exhaling cigarette smoke with satisfaction, Thomas finds himself on the roof — and his eye rejoices at the views: abandoned, lost, such as are used to seeing this damn neighborhood... Just think, so many memories and everything can be drowned, made to disappear without a trace, just not to live them again, as if on rewind. He trusted him! Fucking trusted everything, even told about this little crush on the savior, Hayden! He constantly bought goods without buying in others, drank with him, shared, after all, one bed once!

And he repaid him with this...

Fucking fag.

There are no other words.

Getting closer to the edge of the roof, almost to the very edge, Tom again begins to feel an all-consuming pain in the area of the bend of his arm. Clenching his teeth, he looks down and smiles... I wonder what it's like to fall down, realizing: death is inevitable and your end is already near. He could have... Thomas steps on the edge, the ground is a little foggy before his eyes, but he remains the same unshakable, as if that kiss never happened.

Thanks to meth, always helps out.

Vision distorts the ground, distorts other houses with trees. He looks somewhere to the north: somewhere there, somewhere far away, in one of the hundreds of high-rise buildings lives his savior, his love. He's nobody without her, and she doesn't love him. It is simply impossible to love him. And was there any point..? For some reason, it is at this second that the end of the fall seems the most attractive, almost romantic, like in the movies!

He is again immersed in thoughts about the sweet savior, imagines her naked for the second time in a day, and throws a smoked cigarette far away, it's a pity, not a joint. He bites his lip, deviating when the body leans a little closer to the side and holding becomes borderline, unreal, obligated, difficult. Does it make sense to live? But he's used to it. No, there's no point. Wouldn't it be easier to solve everything in a quick way? — his head is bursting with various ideas, but he does not realize in time that he is stumbling. His eyes widen, the situation is out of control, no! when he feels the same pressure of air being nailed into his back. He swallows when the wound starts to itch.

Does it matter to him? He did nothing, accomplished nothing, just stupidly existed.

Thomas understands: he doesn't care.

He doesn't care about himself.

It doesn't hurt him.

He doesn't feel anything. And he won't feel it.

He closes his eyes, taking everything for granted.

People are stupid if they think that life belongs to them. However, you can add colors to it, breaking away from the criminal boredom reigning around. People should understand that they can make sense of their worthless life, but they will not be able to influence it in any way.

Thomas succumbs to the last thought that death is pleasant. It's fast, easy and you won't even have time to notice it. Thomas succumbs to the last thought that his sweet savior is now thinking about him, wants him imagines about him, misses him and she can't wait to see her beloved again. Hundreds of fleeting shots of their ordinary family life flash through my head. And Thomas smiles for the last time.

"Tom!" a voice shouts... It's Hayden! Yes, it's her! But he doesn't have time...

a second — and it touches the hardened earth.

He forgets himself.

And the world forgets him.

***

He was shouting.

Violently. Loudly. Tearing the ligaments. It was as if he was really trying to help somehow, but he didn't even have time to run - everything happened so fast, so fast, he didn't even have time to blink, he didn't even have time to catch his breath, as heart stopped again: Tom`s and him. He held his limp, rough, hardened, dead body in his hands, feverishly checked his pulse, examined his pupils, twitched at any croaking of a crow and extraneous shuffling, felt blood on his fingers. He couldn't... Nonono!

The voice in head continued to whisper obsessively about death, about a dead person.

Then Mark cried. Then he felt like a twenty — year-old again, experiencing the death of his closest friend — a dog. At that time, he cried for a long time, nonstop and could not accept it, rushed from side to side, he could not find a place. Tears flowed without stopping, he cried sobbing, deeply, absorbing all the pain of humanity and reproached himself for not having time to come up in time: he did not have time to leave the building, did not have time to think about it, did not have time to come to his senses.

He didn't want to believe in the death of a loved one, wanted to remain in the dark, find out about it a few months later, when everything settles down. Maybe if he had left, not confessed, but simply given the meth, then Tom would be alive now? Maybe... Maybe it wasn't worth it? Mark hated himself, he was shrouded in doubts, tormented from head to toe. He was dependent and weak, weak-willed and stupid.

Life has been a living hell, sad boredom and unbearable longing — and that's all since the police came to him. and that's all since the police put him in jail, and it's not that Mark didn't prepare for it, assumed, was afraid, but didn't stop selling. They paid a little, but where to go? had to do something risky. — although otherwise he imagined for himself a more harmonious and peaceful, calm type of life.

He was given three years. Three years of anguish and a fine that he will never be able to pay. And now how long has it been? four months since Tom's death, Mark counts down every day, counts the seconds, the dead body continues to slip in his thoughts, before his eyes, but only in fragments, vivid memories and colors. He does nothing, just exists like a limp body — only sometimes gets up for food, toilet and library, where he takes books.

It was night, and he was staring fixedly into the mirror, peering and feeling a fierce contempt for himself. It was unpleasant for him to look at himself, at the reflection, exactly copying him. The world wrapped around him with cold, anger and sadness. The eyes are red and start to water (boys don't cry! he says softly under his nose, wiping his snot). His jaw is trembling slightly, his hands are gripping the sink tightly.

He looks into the eyes of his reflection and feels sick. It is unpleasant for him, it is disgusting for him, it is disgusting for him, it is difficult for him. Loser. Not needed. Junkie. Unable to love. Fag. Moments of heated quarrels with father pop up in my head. His words and his contemptible look, deeply ingrained in the brain. His rough hands, his blows, his vices. The pain is reinforced by Tom's last words; the last before he died... And that kiss.

Mark wants to exhale with his free chest, to go back to his childhood, together with Tom, on those tram rails, in that room, on that bed and look at those wonderful thin lips, but he knows that the past will not return... He has nowhere to go, no one will accept him, no one will comfort him. He's alone. And always has been. It is difficult for Mark and he does not deny it: his parents have forgotten about him, because he has not appeared in the house for more than twenty years; he had no friends, and the little puppy Vinnie has long left him; a girlfriend but what kind of girlfriend? Sarah was never his girlfriend, he just helped her, sheltered her. And at the moment when she thought he wanted sex for cohabitation, Mark just shook his head. Other people consider him a miscarriage of society. So it has always been and so it will be. Not needed. Fuck.

His gaze is glassy. He recently got to shoot — after all, the job, although flawed, brought in twelve pounds, and was able to afford heroin that day — but calmness does not make itself felt. Mark wants to scream. Want to break the glass. Want to break it like chocolate in hands. Want to cut fingers and curse myself for being weak. Want to grab that knife again and slash myself with it, and then tell parents, they say, an accident. Friends won't even pay attention to it.

Mark doesn't blink. Hardly breathing, as if afraid to move. No one really knows what's going on with him. And unlikely to find out. They won't ask, they won't make sure that everything is fine with him. He's an empty place. And always will be. A simple guy whose feelings can be ignored, that's who he is; an ordinary dealer, of which there are millions all over the planet, just trying to survive.

Pinkman lowers his head down to the sink and washes himself with cold water, which pleasantly blows over his face so much that it becomes easier to think. He sniffs, sobbing naturally. The look becomes wild. He shouldn't do that. Should not. People shouldn't see his weaknesses. Mark remembers Tom, realizing that there is nothing he can do. He can't change anything. Can't do anything.

Mark thinks his life is meaningless without Tom, thinks it doesn't make sense. His — he wasn't his! — beloved had his own personal life. He regrets that he confessed his love to a man whom he considered his only lover for a long time. He regrets that he did not have time to come up in time and dissuade him from the idea of jumping.

Genuine tears begin to flow down cheeks, mixing with clear water. They are barely noticeable, but they do not bring pleasure either. Mark is lonely. His life is meaningless and full of empty promises. Sweaty hands with scratches and empty veins, no longer willing to take poison. However, the brain says the opposite. Heartbroken. Mark looks at the small knife clutched in his hands and carefully brings it to his neck.

Mark has no place in Thomas' life.

Mark has no place in life.

It seems to Mark that the blood will be perfectly combined with the white tile.

***

Blinding light made its way through the blinds, which did not help with the heat at all, because it was summer, mid-July and the lemon-yellow sun incessantly burned not only all the fields of England, but also the skin of all its inhabitants. There was no need for light in an office filled with bookcases, the rays of the sun did their job perfectly, allowing dust to be seen in the cologne-soaked and paper-scented air. Hayden was sitting across from the girl, muttering to herself and writing down some notes in a notebook.

However, the air conditioner, located somewhere in the corner of the office, allowed you to enjoy these minutes, fortunately there was no stuffiness.

She looked around in a new way, despite the fact that she had been coming here for several months, exactly five, or maybe all seven, since... her eyebrows frowned every time someone from her entourage recalled that incident, and her hands began to shake nonstop, as if she had passed the war and returned with an injury. Barely visible tears appeared in eyes, and his chest was filled with fear, his breath spiraled out of his chest. Hayden pursed her lips, waiting for the end of the session; for some reason, it is on this day that it is especially painful for her to talk about what happened, even with a personal psychologist — a pretty girl in her early thirties, who, when she laughed, had a sad sparkle in her gray — green eyes.

They had been practicing for several months and, according to Sarah — whom Hayden respectfully called Miss Miller — her patient was on the mend; the dose of pills she received was slowly decreasing and Cooper was beginning to feel like a full-fledged person, as if... it's as if this abduction never happened. It was as if she had spent those few days at her parents' house, being ill and unable to get out of bed. How lucky was to open the box with free hand that day ...

"I think it's time to finish, Hayden. Your time is coming to an end, I really hope ..." interrupting the girl's thoughts, which caused her to blink quickly, staring at the psychologist in confusion and puzzlement, Miss Miller touched folded hands, on which the sleeves of a loose shirt were stretched, and smiled reassuringly.

"Thank you, Miss Miller," the girl shook hands, standing up and nodding respectfully to the smiling psychologist. She straightened her jeans while a smile was reflected on her face, but a real mess was happening in her thoughts — shots of that time flashed, slipped and took root. She won't get rid of them, no matter how hard she tries. Therefore, once again grinning at Sarah's clever remark, Hayden hurried to the exit, where Theo was waiting for her, who had managed to re-read all the magazines on the glass tables over the past few months.

She looked at the guy tenderly when she carefully closed the door, and he didn't seem to notice it. Leaning her shoulder against the wall, Hayden watched him, realizing that she was sincerely grateful to him. She is grateful that he woke up in the middle of the night after her next nightmare, grateful that he calmed her after another breakdown and attempted overdose, grateful that in moments of despair he was with her and gently smoothed her hair.

Theo raised his head, exhaling a joyful event, and jumped up.

"I thought I couldn't wait for you, how long can I? Those minutes were long, but they didn't seem like an eternity. You know, I managed to reread the interviews of all these actors several times, they are so boring," the guy began to chatter nonstop, waving his hands and heading with the girl to the exit, but as if not noticing her. He smoothed his hair, ran his palm over Hayden's back and laughed heartily at jokes.

Maybe things will get better soon.

eh, here's the last chapter.

thank you to all those who have been with me all this time, thank you to those who have just come! i am very grateful to you for your support. i had difficult days, there was a lack of inspiration, but i still finished this work. i hope you genuinely liked it.

now i'm going to take a break for a couple of days and start writing requests for "obsession", so if you want to read something short, you can read this work, because i still accept requests. i hope you enjoyed reading the work, worried about the characters and felt. write what you think (and i'm going to cry because this job is over).

by the way, the style of this chapter is somewhat experimental and please write whether it turned out to describe the withdrawal.

[smut-is-my-therapy]

When you two started dating, it was amazing he spoiled you with anything you could ever want. So when Tom suggested that you quit your job, you didn´t question it. After a while, he convinced you to move in with him; into an apartment, no one knew he owned. Tom said something about being worried about your safety, but you agreed before he finished explaining. You knew he loved you, and he always said so. Everything

What he does is for your happiness and safety. That s what he would tell you when he would lock the apartment door from the outside. It was always quiet when he left; The first time he locked you in, he came home to you crying from panic. This was a reoccurring trend for a while you would cry; feeling trapped and scared, and he would come home and comfort you and remind you that you were safe with him. He would hold you suffocatingly tight. He´d even stroke your hair whispering things like¨I'll protect you from the world¨ or ¨I'll make sure no one will ever touch you again¨. In a way this made you even more codependent he depended on you in ways he couldn´t put in words , and you depended on him just as much you started to sleep during the day if he wasn´t there and would wake when he returned to eat with him only to take clonidine (sleep medication) to go back to sleep with him which was fine until you started losing weight after that tom made sure you ate three meals a day sometimes even leaving the set he was at to go wake you up. this is when you got a phone the nine and one were disabled as they were not in his number he would call you throughout the day which gave you a reason to be awake he would leave you simple recipes with a list of where the ingredients were and this became life he became your life. but it's days like tonight thought when you wish the windows weren´t bolted shut. the stars are so bright tonight and you just know that they would be so beautiful from the roof you often would talk yourself out of breaking out but tonight you decided it was time to see the stars from the roof so you took the strongest knife you could find and ledged it under the lip of the bolt you were able to get one out but by the time tome walked in

it only to a second for him to realize what you were doing he walked over to you slowly with a blank look on his features your fingers started to tremble he reached for your hand and grad tight on your wrist the pain causes you to let go of the knife as he drags you along to your bedroom in a terrifying silence you shake on the floor as he paces back and forth in front of you you stare at the floor until you hear him stop you flinch as his finger hooks under your chin forcing you to look into his eyes he lets of a heavy breath ¨you understand you did something that I can´t let go unpunished correct¨ you advert your eyes and nod your head his grip moves to the sides of your face ¨when im speaking to you i expect you to make eye contact now babygirl use your words and try again. With a shaky breath, you reply ¨yes sir¨ he stands finally releasing his grip on you ¨better now come ¨ he ushers you to his lap as he sits on the bed you crawl to him from your corner once you get close enough he rips you from the floor by your shoulder causing a yelp to spring out from your lips he tosses you across his lap ¨now count for me¨ even though you were expecting it you still whimpered from his hand roughly coming down on your ass ¨one¨ again¨two¨ and again¨three¨ you eventually get dissociate to ignore the pain as you mindlessly count ¨twenty¨

you come out of your trance from tom wiping a tear from your cheek ¨you know doll I really hate to do this to you¨ he tosses you on the bed and undoes his belt he roughly pulls your hands and ties them to the headboard with his belt ¨but you really haven´t given me a choice¨ he rips you shorts off of you and tightly ties your legs to the bedposts with the rope he usually uses to pleasure you. you stay silent as he pulls something out of the bedside table drawer he walks over you which allows you to get a good look at the large toy he has in his hand he gets on the bed only to slide your panties to the side and shove the toy in drawing tears to your eyes and a loud painful moan only to turn it on and get off the bed he walks around the side of the bed to kiss your forehead and flips your panties over the toy to keep it inside ¨now I'm going to go watch a movie and if you don´t cum by the time I'm back then ill forgive you¨ he said with a slight grin as you watched him walk away with a slack jaw.

[yanderemcu]

Thor and Loki share reader (Requested)

This definitely would not be there first choice

Though once they find out about each others obsession they knew they had to something

They would have killed each other

The only way they came to this decision is if you said something

Like you saw them fighting on the bifrost and broke it up

It is very hard to deal with both of them. Ill say that.

They are the complete opposite of each other.

Thor is sweet and caring. Very soft. Cuddles. His love language is physical touch.

Loki is stubborn and a trickster. Silver tongue. Reading together. His love language is gift giving.

Having that together was never gonna work.

So they had a set schedule. Taking turns.

Until Loki wouldn't give you to Thor.

Then they had to be together. With you.

That was a lot to get used to.

If they had a fight.

Thor would win.

He would overpower Loki.

If you want the story let me know.

[jotunvali02]

Yandere Simulator but Ayano is Tom Hiddleston and Senpai is Owen Wilson.

And instead of killing people, we must manage to talk about Loki to Owen for hours without him running away.

And if he does run away, we run with him.

Talking about Loki.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Are you alone now?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, pretty creepy Loki.

Words: 1424. Summary: There’s a man who keeps calling you whenever you are all by yourself.

P.S. Inspired by this.

____________________

That evening was the same like all the others: you sat with a new novel you found in that little bookshop on the first floor of the building you lived in; you had a cup of warm camomile tea you were sipping, a cozy blanket covering your legs. You didn’t expect anyone to come, and the only thing you planned for the evening was getting a good rest after a busy day. Of course, the least you thought about was someone playing a prank on you.

“Are you alone now?��� The male voice asked you, and you furrowed your brows, immediately looking at the screen of your cellphone. You definitely didn’t know the one who called you. Besides, who would ask a question like right from the start?

“Who is this?” You demanded harshly. You didn’t have time for this bullshit, whatever it was.

Suddenly, you could almost feel someone on the other end of the phone smirking. You only heard his calm breathing before the mysterious stranger hanged up, leaving you slightly irritated and concerned. What the Hell? Who was this? The guy didn’t sound like a silly teenager playing pranks on whoever picked up the phone, but you could never be sure. So, you simply called that number, expecting to scare the shit of that boy and make him never do this to someone else.

However, all you heard was that this number wasn’t even registered. How come?

You quickly opened Google to see if there was a new type of prank but found nothing at all. Before proceeding to call your friend, you jumped to your feet and checked whether your door and all the windows were locked. You didn’t want any trouble. What if it wasn’t a pranker but some lunatic? A criminal? Better to be safe than sorry.

But that evening nothing really happened. No one tried to break into your apartment or do anything else. After a long talk with your friend you finally decided it was just a stupid prank someone pulled on you, and the next morning you went to work with your head clear of any bad thoughts.

In two days, someone called you again. You just got out of the shower when you had to rush to your room to take the cellphone when you heard, “Are you alone now?”

“Who the fuck is this?” You hissed, both upset and a little scared.

When you heard the stranger chuckling, you were ready to yell at him, but he hanged up again. Of course, that number wasn’t registered either.

That evening you freaked out and went to spend the night at your friend’s place instead of staying home. Something wasn’t right. Who was that? Why calling you exactly when you were alone? Of course, it was Wednesday evening, and most people without family were most likely alone in their homes, but you had no desire to risk it. This thing with an unregistered number got you alarmed because even an operator couldn’t explain who a call could be made. It definitely wasn’t normal.

The next time he called when you just left your office and stood in the balcony, having a five-minute break. “Are you alone now?” The stranger asked, and you rushed to the nearest police station, caring little about your job. Enough was enough.

However, while you spent the whole hour trying to explain what was happening to the officer, you realized you had nothing to confirm your suspicions. Yes, there were three calls registered on your cellphone, but it didn’t mean the one who was calling was really threatening you. Hell, it didn’t even mean it was the one person. The officer had never heard of any pranks like that, and you could see he was quite sceptical. If you could record this stranger talking to you, he might be able to do something, yet now you had no proof whatsoever. You left the police station feeling deadly tired and distressed.

Who was he? You had never had a secret admirer or anyone of that kind. Hell, you weren’t in a relationship for more than a year, and your ex was a really nice guy who you still considered your friend. Besides, it was definitely not his voice. Was that person a complete stranger? Some creepy stalker, maybe? If it was so, you hadn’t seen anyone watching you secretly.

Shit, things were bad.

You didn’t realize how bad they were until he called the fourth time, and when you listened to the recording you had made, you heard only your own voice. How was that even possible?! You made sure to record it not only with your phone, but also with a little recorder you got yourself a few days ago. Of course, you checked it, and it was working perfectly.

“Are you alone now?”

This voice was following you everywhere. You couldn’t get it off your mind wherever you went, whatever you did. In the end, instead of the police station, you went to the psychologist to be assured you’re not some crazy lunatic yourself. The psychologist told you that you were in a great distress, prescribing you some medication, but added you had no reason to be worried about schizophrenia or anything like that. It was probably a problem with the recorder, he said. You just needed to be prepared better the next time this man called.

You purchased three more recorders, changed the locks and bought the protection for your windows. Your friends were becoming more and more sceptical just like that police officer, and you struggled to make them stay with you for a night. You were too afraid to stay all by yourself.

And then one day everything changed. You were supposed to have a nice evening with pizza and French fries, your friend Beth staying at your place and choosing some romcom for the two of you. You were in the kitchen when she suddenly stormed out of the room and started shouting at you. “How could you do that?” She asked you furiously as you gawked at her, not understanding anything at all. “I had to send my son to my mom for a night just to come and sit here with you!”

“Wait, what? I don’t understand.” You said with all honesty, freezing on the spot as you stared at your friend, her expression telling you she was going mad from anger.

“I have just heard you faking a man’s voice and recording this stupid message! Jesus Christ, and I was the one telling guys you needed help!” She kept shouting, picking up her coat in the hallway. “Yeah, maybe you need it because you’re fucking crazy, Y/N!”

“Wait! This is some misunderstanding!” But before you had time to ask her what the hell was going on, she had already vanished from your apartment, leaving you all alone.

You left the pizza in its box, grabbing a bottle of red wine Beth brought you and returned to your room, sinking in the chair. You simply couldn’t process her words. You faking a man’s voice? What? Was she joking? This could be the case, but Beth had always been a very devoted friend. She wouldn’t do this to you, knowing how scared you were. Not now, when she was among the last ones willing to help you go through this endless nightmare.

Suddenly, you felt your phone vibrating in the pocket of your pants. Clenching your teeth, you gulped down the wine right from the bottle and reached out to your phone, seeing some number you didn’t recognize. You knew who was calling.

“Are you alone now?” The soft voice asked you, and you growled in frustration, ready to smash the bottle against the wall.

“No, I’m not!” You snarled at the stranger, gripping the phone in your hand painfully. “I’m with my best friend, we’re eating pizza and discussing how we gonna find and fucking kill you!”

You heard him laughing on the other side of the phone – he wasn’t concerned even the slightest bit, knowing you couldn’t track him down. Surprisingly, he didn’t hang up as fast as he always did, but you were so furious you didn’t even think of it, preparing to tell the bastard everything you thought of his fucking prank.

“You are lying.” Someone said behind your back, and you felt a man gently setting his hands on your shoulders. “You are alone now.”

The next second you dropped the bottle of wine onto your white bed sheets, staining them red.

________________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​  @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ ​ @void-hoechlin @abyssaint​ @heeeyitskay​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight

[tamayakii]

fandoms/characters/people

The fandoms/characters/people below are the ones i am willing to write for

Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Voltron Legendary Defender 2016 reboot

Genshin Impact

Avengers/mcu/i can do actors as well :]

Free!

Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji

Haikyuu

Attack on Titan

dream smp/dsmp

criminal minds

I am also open to any AU, like yanderes, modern, cafe, just tell me the AU and a bit of info about it and im down! :D