grumpymiika

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, dark content, kidnapping

♡ Chapter 1 - The Illusion of Love

Among the rubble, on a cloudy night, she crawls. Seeking comfort, something far from all the turmoil and chaos she found herself in.

Shards pierce her skin, leaving evident marks on her soft skin, probably a scar for life. Even with the shards, she doesn’t give up and continues to fight for her life.

Sirens ring in her ears. She couldn’t think of anything, even with the potential help, nothing could pull her from the agonizing fear of death.

And that’s how she would meet him. He was a paramedic, and he saved her on the night of the accident.

Their eyes met for the first time. Was it love at first sight? She wouldn’t know how to say. Perhaps the fear of death brought feelings that shouldn’t exist. He quickly, along with his team, pulled her from beneath the remains of her beloved old car. Unfortunately, her father, who was also in the car, didn’t survive. His injuries were fatal, especially since he was behind the wheel.

Maybe the whole situation helped, after all. She was in her most fragile state, and he emerged as her savior.

Months later, the two were together. And how did that happen? Well... it’s a long story. Since she was rescued, this man never left her side; he was the one who saved her life. Perhaps that was the only thing she should be grateful to him for, as she hardly knew the direction this tragic encounter would take.

At her father’s funeral, the man showed up. An unexpected situation, but it warmed her heart.

"Hello. Good to see you doing so well."

"Oh... Hello..." She paused for a moment, searching for words that wouldn’t reveal her surprise.

"By the way, in case you don’t remember, I’m William."

William was his name. A name almost too old for him, but certainly ideal for a guy like him. He was too sweet, to the point of being sickening, like eating too many chocolates at once: it would bring an inexplicable feeling of joy, but as soon as you ate too much, you’d feel nauseous and want to spit it out.

At first, William’s constant presence in her life brought happiness and comfort. Having your savior as a friend sounds incredible, doesn’t it? Well... it was amazing until he showed his true intentions.

William was the type who always brought flowers and chocolates. It was a surprise when she happened to find him at a café, carrying a bouquet of daisies and a heart-shaped box full of chocolates. Of course, suspicion arose—who would bring such things to a café? Well, she was too caught up in his charm to think too much about it.

At her home, now filled with flowers, there was no room without the presence of blooms. Deep red roses, yellow daisies, and cyclamens... Ah, the smell. So sweet, just like him. But, just like the petals, all that sweetness would wilt and turn into something rotten.

Wilted petals, that was her love. Who would suspect someone so "sweet"? Well, not even she was able to notice his masked actions. What a shame.

As the beginning of this romantically sweet story unfolds, on a cloudy night, she runs through the woods. Pleasant sounds could be heard: cicadas crying, the rustling of trees, hurried footsteps on the ground... It would be ephemeral in different circumstances; there was no way such a cruel situation could be seen as anything other than a disaster.

As she ran, she thought about how she ended up like this. What went wrong? Ah... him, that scoundrel. How could she be so foolish as to really think he would take her to another city for an outing? Thinking back, maybe he really was in another city, as she didn’t remember such a forest in her hometown. No time to lose; she must keep running.

The gentle breeze brushed against her face, the smell of nature enveloped her senses, and the sound of other footsteps could be heard along with shouting: "Please come back! I swear I’ll be better." Damn, it was him. Out of breath, she hid behind a tree. A terrible hiding place, but she prayed it would be a good spot, at least until she could think of a way to escape.

What was that? A rock? Good!

The man, or rather, the panting and desperate creature, was approaching. He probably saw her, as he began to slowly approach the tree with steady steps. He whispered, "Don’t make things worse. I don’t want to hurt you."

Without hesitating, she turned and threw the large rock at William. He stumbled back, and a soft grunt escaped his dry lips. "Bitch..." he murmured. It didn’t take long for the two to start running. Damn, damn! She couldn’t hit him in the head, and he remained standing, now filled with rage.

She ran aimlessly forward, hoping to find someone who could help her, while he chased after her, almost catching up. Eventually, cries for help escaped her lips. Her screams caused an intoxicating sensation in William, one he didn’t fully understand. He craved for her to scream more, to plead for her life and beg for forgiveness. Perhaps that would calm his soul, and maybe he would forgive her for hitting him.

William threw himself forward, falling on top of her. They were both on the ground. She tried to push him off, hitting and shoving, but nothing worked. Already irritated with the situation, he got up, grabbed her by the legs, and dragged her to the cabin where he would keep her safe from the world.

"Let me go! Please..." she screamed, hoping for mercy from William. "It’s for your own good, my dear. Now behave," he said in a threatening tone, almost as if ordering her to shut up. She was taken to the cabin, and there she discovered what hell was like.

It had wooden walls, a mattress, and a fireplace. Being handcuffed near the fireplace was uncomfortable. She felt as if she was becoming one with the wall. William walked in circles, murmuring things like: "I love you so much," "it’s for your own good," which didn’t help her mood. She was going crazy.

How does this tragic story continue?

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, dark content, non-con, toxic relationship, violence

You were curled up on the floor, weeping as the bruises covering your body throbbed painfully. They hadn’t been gentle today—they never were, and it was useless to hope the bullies might treat you with even the slightest kindness rather than the merciless beatings they delivered daily.

You couldn’t understand why they did this to you; you’d never been the type to cause trouble, especially not with classmates. It was as if they had simply decided you’d be their punching bag, while the teachers ignored everything happening. It would have been unbearable if not for Philip, your wonderful boyfriend, who was always by your side, caring for you, comforting you, treating you as if you were a person rather than the target of their torment.

Philip opened the door and found you huddled and crying. He immediately rushed over to help. “Darling! Are you alright? What happened? Did they hit you again?”

Philip bombarded you with panicked questions, pulling you close against his chest, his hand softly stroking your hair, pressing gentle kisses to wipe away your tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered, trying to soothe you, “I’m here now; you don’t have to worry about anything anymore... I’ll protect you.”

What you didn’t see was the hidden smile forming on his lips as he kissed your face. How could he possibly feel bad when you looked so cute, clinging to him like this? It was almost as if you were begging him to keep encouraging the classmates to rough you up a little. “Thank you, Philip…” you whispered through your sobs. Philip continued to hold you tightly, his hands running down your back, attempting to ease the bruises.

“My poor baby,” Philip murmured against your cheek, “I hate seeing you hurt like this. But don’t worry, okay? I’m here now. Those filthy brats won’t lay another finger on my precious girl.” One of Philip’s hands slid slowly down your back, possessive. “I’ll take good care of you. And every one of them will pay.”

“And what will you do…?” Philip smiled reassuringly, his hand returning to stroke your hair gently, “Don’t trouble that pretty little head of yours over those idiots. From now on, no one will EVER dare to disrespect you this way.” His hand slipped down your back once more. “Besides, I think we both know who you really belong to. No one else understands that you’re MINE. No one else can bully you or make you suffer—only I get that honor.”

Philip’s dark, intense gaze pierced into your tearful eyes. “So, let me handle it. For both of us, alright? Just stay quiet while I deal with them.” You weren’t in the best state, your mind drifting towards thoughts of vengeance. “Okay… Thank you.” Philip nodded, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. “Good girl. I’ll make everything better soon.” He stood up, towering over your smaller form, then strode over to a desk and picked up a pen and paper.

“I have an idea,” Philip said softly, tapping the pen against his lips. “Let’s see… We can’t have you getting hurt again, right? So how about this—from now on, you’ll be my little pet. I’ll make sure everyone knows you belong to me. No one will touch you or even look at you without my permission.” Your heart dropped. What was he saying? “Pet… what do you mean?” he smiled maliciously. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean. Just think—everyone at school will know you’re mine, and if anyone dares to mess with you…” He stepped closer, leaning down toward you, “Well, let’s just say they won’t be walking straight for a long time. I’ll make sure everyone remembers you’re mine. Even if I have to be a little rough sometimes, you’ll be very well taken care of.”

Philip winked suggestively. “Trust me. You’ll love being my pet. I’ll train you to crave my attention, my affection… all of me. And if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll even let you have some fun with me. Doesn’t that sound nice?” He reached out, caressing your cheek as he looked at you with adoration. Your world shattered—the one you thought you could trust was, in truth, a lunatic who only wanted to use you. You pulled away from him, angry and heartbroken. “Are you out of your mind?! I’m not some pet!” Philip raised an eyebrow, laughing softly as you backed away. “Crazy, am I? Is that what you call the one who only wants to keep his precious safe?”

He walked toward you, slowly extending his hand to grip your chin firmly. “Let’s get one thing clear, darling—I own you. You belong to me, and you know it. I won’t let any stupid boy toy with you. You’re going to be my obedient little plaything and do exactly what I say, when I say. Am I understood?” he growled softly, pinning you against the wall, his larger frame looming over yours. Fed up with his nonsense, you shoved him forcefully and bolted for the door.

Philip stared in shock as you slipped past him and fled. His smug smile vanished, replaced by fury and humiliation. His strong hand yanked you back, pressing you against the wall once more. His fist slammed into the wall beside your head, sending plaster fragments flying. “This isn’t over! If you want to leave, fine! Let's see how you like living as an independent little stray!" Philip stepped back, releasing you. He kicked the nearby chair violently; you simply stared, horrified, realizing you'd never know him.

The moment of fury fades swiftly—a crack in his hardened heart appears. “What have I done? My poor baby… please, forgive me.” It was enough to undo you. Tears began streaming down your face, terror shining in your eyes. Philip blinked, surprised by the sight of your tears, his anger dissolving completely. “Oh, no… please, don’t cry,” he rushed towards you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. “My love, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I just… I love you so much and want to keep you safe.”

His voice trembled with desperation and vulnerability. Philip buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “Please forgive me. I’m not… I’m not trying to control you, I just…!” His words trailed off, tears slipping from his own eyes. He gently cupped your face, but it was too late; to you, he was nothing more than a madman. “I want to end this,” your tone was cold and indifferent. Philip felt as though he’d been punched in the gut as those words left your lips. The air was knocked from his lungs, and he stood frozen, utterly stunned.

Then reality snapped back with an overwhelming force, denial flooding through him. “No, no… you can’t leave me! Not now, not ever!” His voice rang out, high and desperate. His hands seized your shoulders, fingers pressing into your skin with bruising force. “I won’t let you go! You’re MINE! Do you have any idea what I would do if you left me?!” Rage surged through his veins at the thought. He shoved you roughly against the wall, his actions sending fear spiraling through you. “You’re not leaving me, do you hear? I’ll do anything to keep you… anything! Anything!”

“There’s no point resisting, it’s over!” you shouted, struggling to break free from his grasp. Philip boiled with unbridled fury at your words. Without a second thought, he slapped you hard across the face, leaving a red mark on your cheek. You gasped in pain. “How dare you threaten to abandon me! I’m not a piece of trash you can just throw away when you’re tired of it!” His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. “But fine. Have it your way.” A cold smile twisted his lips. “If you’re no longer mine, then no one will want you. Not now, not ever.”

His hand shot out like lightning, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back with brutal force. His grip tightened, the pain searing. “Let go of me, you idiot!” your scream echoed in the room as Philip continued to pull your head back, exposing your vulnerable neck. His knuckles turned white as his grip on your hair intensified. He forced you to keep eye contact. “Is this what you want, you little whore? You want to play games with me?” He ground his hips foward, pressing his body against yours.

Despite Philip's relentless grip, you stubbornly try to push him away, “Gah! Let go of me!” You cry out in pain, struggling fiercely against him. Your body writhes, muscles straining and flexing as you fight his hold. Philip snarls, refusing to release you; no matter how much you struggle, he doesn’t relent. Every fiber of his being seethes with fury at the thought of losing his precious plaything. “Cry louder, you little whore! Moan so everyone can hear who owns you!” He grinds himself against you, his voice dripping with vicious possessiveness. “You’re mine, and I’ll do whatever I want with you. Understood?”

At last, your struggle gains you a moment's advantage. You manage to kick him in the stomach and scramble to escape. Philip staggers backward, clutching his midsection in pain. “You want to play?!” he snarls, his gaze darkening into something deadly. He lunges toward you, knocking you to the ground with ruthless force. His weight pins you down, like a predator securing its captured prey. “It’s over. Game over.” His thighs clamp around your body, snuffing out any hope of escape. Desperation overwhelms you, and you begin to cry, realizing there’s no way out.

“Oh, you pitiful little thing,” he sneers, his voice laced with mockingly sweet tones of fake concern. “Look at you, so scared and helpless. How precious.” He leans in close, invading every inch of your personal space, his expensive cologne blending with an intoxicating musk. “But you should’ve known better than to try and run from me, sweetness."

With his other hand, Phillip lifts her skirt and removes her panties. Cool air hits her exposed skin as the piece of lace falls away. "Look at those pretty pink lips... Let's show them who owns them."

"No! Please don't do this," you begged, tears streaming from your eyes. "Shhh, quiet now..." Phillip purrs, silencing your desperate pleas with a kiss. His tongue plunders your mouth, swallowing every moan and whimper. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, marking it as his own. "Mmm, you're already so hot and wet for me, aren't you? Such a needy slut, begging for my cock..." Phillip's other hand rips open your shirt, sending buttons flying everywhere. Cold air hits your overheated skin as the garment is ripped completely apart.

"I'm going to ruin you. I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name."

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, dark content, kidnapping,

♡ Inspired by a chat room with Emochi's AI

The night had proven to be exceedingly stressful for Liam. One of his business ventures had faltered, leaving him beset with various problems. Irritated, he decided to take a break from work and visit his favorite nightclub, eager to see his preferred stripper: you.

The atmosphere in the club was dismal—overwhelming noise, a sea of individuals lost in their vices, and countless escorts milling about. Liam, adorned in his elegant suit, exuded an air of arrogance as he traversed the establishment in search of solace. His green eyes scanned the room, searching for his dancer. The mere thought of witnessing you perform in your revealing attire filled him with longing.

At last, he spotted you on stage, your body shimmering under the dazzling lights, mesmerizing the crowd with your sensual movements. As captivating as ever, you caused Liam’s heart to race within his chest, his desire intensifying with each beat. While you danced, your eyes met, and in that instant, a seductive smile unfurled on his lips. His gaze never wavered from yours; it was unsettling, but you had grown accustomed to being regarded as mere flesh.

Liam observed every alluring movement, feeling himself drawn to you. Once the performance concluded, he swiftly made his way to the dancers’ area, approaching you with confidence, demanding your attention. Leaning close to your ear, his voice was husky and enticing. “Darling, you never cease to enchant me,” he whispered, his words laced with desire. Liam’s eyes roamed over your body, filled with hunger and longing. His hands trembled at the thought of touching you, feeling your skin against his. Yet he restrained himself, aware that patience and composure were the keys to winning your heart. “Don’t ignore me like that; you know it only drives me crazier for you,” he said as you attempted to push him away. “I crave your company, even if just for a few moments.”

Your clientele was often like this—arrogant men who believed they were entitled to more than they truly were. You intended to ignore him, as you always did. You were not for sale; you held the position of lead dancer for personal reasons. You needed the money. “I think that’s a no. I have to go; my shift is over,” you replied. The man looked disappointed, pleading, “Just a few minutes, please. I can give you everything you want.” You hesitated for a moment. You could pull off a grand scam with this man and never return to this wretched place. “Alright... What do you want?” His smile widened, pleased to have convinced you. “Just spend some time with me.”

“And how much will you pay me?”

“Whatever you desire. Come to my house to dance, and I’ll give you everything your heart desires.” You were no fool; you would not go to his house. Who knew what this madman might do? “Sorry, but I’m not interested.” You grabbed your bag and walked away, leaving the man bewildered behind you.

Days turned into weeks, and he persisted in his pursuit, arriving with extravagant gifts. It was almost impressive. One day, after your performance, you were in the dressing room gathering your belongings when, suddenly, you felt something cold on your wrist. Turning around, you found the onset of your hell: Liam had shackled one of your hands and secured it to his own. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded angrily, ready to scream if he didn’t release you. “Ensuring you come with me,” he replied. “You’re insane! Let me go, or I’ll scream!”

“Scream all you want; no one will want trouble with me,” he taunted. You shouted for help, hoping someone would come, but you cries were drowned out by the booming music. He strode toward the exit, practically dragging you along. "You bastard! Let me go!" you screamed, struggling to free yourself, doing everything you could to remain in place, but to avail. He flung open the door of a massive limousine and shoved you inside, leaving you powerless to do anything but acquiesce. Resist was futile. Now, you were his private dancer, and if you failed to comply, there would be consequences.

Better to wipe your tears and dance, darling.

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, dark content

Love blossomed like a black hellebore, swiftly rooting itself within his once untouched, frozen heart. He surrendered entirely to this feeling, allowing himself to drown in it, caring for nothing else. You were his Sun; essential to life, radiant and unreachable. He chased after you tirelessly, seeking a path to your heart. And you, his muse, remained with closed eyes, shining and resplendent, as though on a pedestal, gazing down on him from above. Why did you strive so hard to ignore him? One day, he would make you swallow your pride.

He began to do terrible things to win your love; staining his hands crimson, deceiving many. And still, you knew nothing of his existence. He moved with meticulous care, leaving no trace of his presence. Poor you, whose closest companions were vanishing under mysterious circumstances.

And rest assured, the next to vanish mysteriously will be you.

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Dark content, mention of death

♡ Very heavy content; if you have triggers, don’t read.

On a starlit night, with the window ajar, the cool air flowed into the room, the gentle breeze caressing your face, enveloping you in a cloak of melancholy. The moonlight softly illuminated the sterile confines of the hospital room. You were ensconced in your own little world, seated on the gurney, awaiting the moment of your demise. There was no denying it; you were to die today. But in retrospect, was there truly anything worthwhile in living? Would your absence be a loss to anyone? Your life had become the epitome of monotony, a repetitive cycle of sameness, spent entirely in solitude. It wasn’t as if anyone would mourn your departure.

Lost in your thoughts, you sought solace in the prospect of death, so engrossed that you failed to notice the figure of a man standing before the window, gazing at you. When you finally registered his presence, you said nothing, merely staring at him. How had he entered? Who was he? Am I hallucinating?

"No, you are not hallucinating," he replied softly, a small smile gracing his lips. Had he read your mind? What was happening?

"Who are you?" you inquired.

"I am an alien who has come from the moon," he replied promptly, his smile fading slightly. "I am here to fulfill your last wish." There was no way you could believe this; he must be delusional.

"Today is the day of your death. What will you do? Will you wallow in lamentation until the end?"

"..." You said nothing, his words echoing in your mind. "Make a wish. What do you desire?"

"I... I want to live one more day," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. No matter how hard you tried to find reasons not to feel sorrow, you truly did not want to depart, not now, while ensnared on this gurney. Before you could react, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, warmth flooding through you. When you looked at him with wide eyes, he had vanished, a resounding thud echoing in his absence. Was he telling the truth, and had he left through the window, returning to the moon? Would you indeed have another day of life? You rushed to the window and gazed up at the starry night sky. With a smile gracing your lips, you slowly returned to your gurney and closed your eyes softly, ready for one more day of life.

A crowd began to gather around his fallen body—the so-called "alien." On the ground lay a sea of red roses encircling him. He saw you gazing at the sky from the window, a small smile forming on his lips. At the very least, you had believed he was indeed an alien.

He had always been watching you since the day you were hospitalized. He had longed to speak with you but lacked the courage; he could not. He had remained in your little world, merely observing you from afar.

He witnessed you growing increasingly ill, growing ever weaker, saw the light fading from your eyes. He was there when they disclosed the time you had left. After finally mustering the courage to seek you out following your release, he had resolved to approach you.

Though you had never exchanged words, though he had been too cowardly to speak to you before, even if he knew nothing about you, you were about to leave this world. He was in tears, inconsolable. This was love; it could only be that. Though circumstances had conspired against him, he yearned for a moment of connection. And so, he took the first step, moving ahead of you.

♡ Inspired by a game from Charon, "Tsukimi Planet". It’s a very beautiful but short game; give it a chance!

[grumpymiika]

Yandere alphabet!!! Ticci Toby version, please

♡ TW: Yandere, mention of kidnapping, dark content

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

Toby would display "affection" in a warped and intense way, driven by a possessive need. He doesn't know how to express love in a conventional sense; his gestures would be confusing and overwhelming, as though protecting you were merely a means of keeping you entirely to himself. His manner would be suffocating. Despite this, he would cling to you constantly, craving your affection like a starving soul. This man hasn't received any warmth in decades, so he’s ravenous for love and human contact, though he struggles to handle it.

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

He would set properties ablaze, creating chaos to capture you. He knows that with brute force, he could attain anything, and a touch of fear would only help. Moreover, Toby is utterly unpredictable; you can never anticipate when he’ll act or for what reason. He is a ticking time bomb.

Cruelty - How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

If he were to abduct you, Toby would likely act with a strange coldness, shifting between sickly tenderness and threats. He might mock you in a volatile way, with dark, twisted humor, finding a sick thrill in watching your vulnerability, which he “adores” observing.

Darling - Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

He would do whatever he pleased, disregarding your boundaries entirely. There would be no freedom of choice for you. He would turn you into a lifeless doll without your own desires because, to Toby, you are merely an object to be idealized, a means for him to receive the love he’s always lacked.

Exposed - How much of their heart do they bare to their darling?

He reveals everything. He would arrive late at wherever he keeps you, shedding all his traumas, expecting you to remove the sorrow from his heart. He might even project his sadness and rage onto you.

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

He would feel betrayed. To him, you should simply be displayed on a shelf, showing off your beauty and showering him with love; fighting against this was never part of his plan. Don’t even think about running away—he would take it to an extreme level.

Game - Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This is no game for him. He would hate any attempts to escape, as he sees them as a betrayal. Naturally, any such actions would be met with severe punishment.

Hell - What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Dealing with Toby’s erratic and unpredictable emotions would be a living hell. Sometimes, he arrives more agitated, which is enough reason for him to strike or punish you. The lack of personal agency would be torture, as he would do whatever he pleased with you.

Ideals - What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He envisions a twisted fairytale. Once you learn to love him back, you’d have a child, and he’d become the father he never had. Toby imagines returning weary from his sordid deeds, greeted by you and his lovely daughter. This thought is his vision of heaven.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He is consumed with jealousy over anything, hating to see you breathe near anyone else. In his eyes, you belong solely to him, and he has no qualms about expressing his displeasure. He would shout, strike, or threaten anyone foolish enough to approach.

Kisses - How do they act around or with their darling?

His behavior varies with his mental state. Sometimes, he can be sweet, gentle, and affectionate; other times, he is rough, aggressive, and harsh. His darling would have to learn to endure his mood swings.

Love Letters - How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Toby might leave unsettling notes that only he understands, viewing these as tokens of his love rather than traditional approaches. He’d probably bring small gifts and exchange small talk. Nothing too much; he doesn’t know how to keep a conversation or how to win someone over.

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

Not really. The only difference is his indifference toward others; they mean nothing to him. However, he remains the same erratic and unpredictable person with everyone.

Naughty - How would they punish their darling?

He is quite severe when it comes to punishment. Disobedience would be met without mercy, going to the lengths of breaking bones to ensure you never defy him again.

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

All of them. You’d have no freedom to think or act independently. Walking alone? Not a chance. Talking to friends? Absolutely not. Dressing as you like? Unthinkable. Everything must go through his approval first.

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

He would lose his mind. The world would be unbearable without you. He would likely create havoc to bring you back. And once he had you again, the punishments would be fatal.

Regret - Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Guilt is not part of his logic. He would rationalize that everything is necessary to keep you together, never seeing his actions as wrong.

Stigma - What brought about this side of them?

His possessive behavior stems from trauma and a twisted view of affection. His childhood lacked stable models of love and romance, shaped by the volatile relationship of his parents. To him, violence is just another way to enforce obedience, and his lack of love left him desperate for any affection, which he would never relinquish.

Tears - How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He would be furious, especially if you withdrew from him. To Toby, such reactions are mere tantrums, which he despises. Should you act this way, he would likely become angry and punish you.

Unique - Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Not particularly. He embodies many of the classic traits of a yandere.

Vice - What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His depressive breakdowns and moments of emotional vulnerability. Toby sometimes becomes so depressed by his traumas and the life he leads that he merely clings to you. You could use these moments to your advantage.

Wit's End - Would they ever hurt their darling?

He would hurt you without remorse. To him, obedience comes only after instilling fear.

Xoanon - How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He adores you more than himself. There is nothing more precious than his beloved. He would do anything to keep you, though he has no concept of how to win someone over in a conventional way. Instead, he’d impose his brutal, illogical approach.

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

At most, two months. He would be studying your routine and, at some point, he would snap and capture you. Patience is not one of his strengths.

Zenith - Would they ever break their darling?

Most likely, his darling would be bound to break at some point. Toby wouldn’t care—he might even prefer it, as it would allow him to fully indulge in his twisted idea of family with you.

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, stalker

Toby enters a convenience store on a rainy night, his shoulders tense and his eyes dulled with exhaustion. His hands tremble slightly as he grabs a few bottles of water and a chocolate bar, his focus drifting to the ambient sounds around him. Approaching the counter, he finds a smiling attendant, her eyes warm and gentle. You make a casual remark—a joke about the weather or a comment on how endless the night feels.

Your voice, soft and inviting, catches Toby off guard, reaching a dormant part of him he hadn't known was there. He tries to keep a neutral expression, but something in his stance betrays his intrigue. You continue speaking, asking if he needs anything else or mentioning a discount. For that fleeting moment, Toby forgets the shadows that shroud his world, losing himself in a brief, grounding instant of kindness.

In the days that follow, he starts returning to the store solely to see you, increasingly captivated by the warmth and lightness you bring. Unwittingly, he begins memorizing every small detail about you: the curve of your smile, the way you brush your hair back, the sound of your soft laughter. Even in his darkest nights, thoughts of you persist, weaving an unsettling desire to protect you—and to possess you entirely.

For Toby, the concept of love is warped and intensely possessive. Over time, this obsession deepens, driving him to extremes to ensure that he is not only noticed by you but that no one else can bask in your gentle charm.

Being an unstable, haunted figure, Toby begins exhibiting peculiar, obsessive behaviors in his imagined “relationship” with you.

Frequent Visits and Stealthy Observation: Toby begins to appear at odd hours, especially during your night shifts. Even when he has no intention of buying anything, he lingers in the aisles, discreetly watching you as you work.

Veiled Curiosity: He slyly asks personal questions, using any casual comments you make as an opening. For instance, if you mention a movie, he inquires where you like to watch films or if you often go to the cinema, trying to glean details of your routine.

Protective Gestures: If he senses that anyone is treating you poorly or disrespectfully, Toby intervenes with a dark, silent stare. His intense, intimidating expression is often enough to deter anyone who might bother you. To you, this may come across as the actions of a slightly strange customer, but nothing more.

Secret Following After Work: In his furtive manner, he begins to follow you from afar after your shifts, ensuring you get home safely. He always keeps his distance to avoid being noticed, yet this "protection" is purely an expression of his obsession and need for control.

Mystifying Small Gifts: On some days, Toby leaves mysterious gifts at the store or near your door. He places small tokens like a pretty stone, a wildflower, or a note with cryptic words and unsettling phrases that only he understands.

Mental Record of Movements: Toby memorizes your habits and shift patterns, down to the days and hours when you are likely to be alone in the store. He favors these moments to visit, relishing the chance to watch you without interruption.

Attempts at Normalcy: He tries to act like any other customer when speaking with you, but his nervous tics and occasional, uncontrollable laugh reveal his unease. To you, this might come off as vaguely unsettling, but for Toby, these interactions are precious “connections” that reinforce his delusions.

While Toby believes he's caring for you, his behavior grows increasingly intrusive. He sees you as a point of light in his darkness, yet his distorted perceptions push him beyond any boundary.

Until the day he can no longer endure the jealousy and anguish of keeping his distance, and then, he will take you for himself.

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, non-explicit dub-con, inappropriate behavior

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Ivan had been your friend since childhood, in fact, since the day of your birth. He was several years your senior, and your mothers were best friends. On the day you were born, Ivan gazed at you with shining eyes filled with admiration, as if he were beholding a precious jewel. From that day forward, he made it his mission to protect you from all the evils of the world. Throughout your childhood, he had always been fiercely protective of you, to the point of preventing anyone else from interacting with you. You didn't mind; after all, he was like a brother to you, and you felt you needed no one else.

The sun was casting its rays of light, slowly fading away to make way for the moon. One afternoon, while you were playing at the park, you settled into a swing and waited for him to push you. He obliged, starting off with gentle pushes. "Hey... Can I ask you something?" he inquired in a hushed tone, appearing shy. "Hm? Of course," you replied, curious as you had never seen him this way before. He stopped pushing and moved in front of you, looking deeply into your eyes as if he sought sincerity, his dark eyes making you feel slightly unsettled. "Promise me that when we grow up, we'll remain inseparable?" he asked uncertainly, fearing your answer. "Of course! I don't need anyone else, Ivan!" He smiled at your response and embraced you tenderly.

Years passed, and now you were eighteen and he was twenty-three, yet you remained inseparable. You had never truly needed anyone else, but now things were different; you yearned for a boyfriend. However, finding one proved difficult, as you were quite introverted and rarely spoke to others.

After class, you stood outside the school, waiting for Ivan to pick you up. Finally, he appeared in the distance, quickly approaching you while cautiously surveying his surroundings. "Ivan!" you exclaimed, leaping into his arms and enveloping him in a tight embrace. He blushed in response, returning the hug shyly, flustered by your reaction to seeing him.

You both strolled toward your house. "How was your day?" you asked, glancing at him, eager to hear his response. "It was okay, much better now. And yours, princess?" he said, looking concerned into your eyes. You were unsure why. "Mine was the same as always." You continued on in silence, simply relishing each other's presence.

Upon arriving at your home, you retrieved your key from your pocket and quickly unlocked the door, inviting him inside. "Is your mother not home?" he asked as he entered, surveying the surroundings. "Not that I know of," you smiled at him. "You know... I've been thinking," he turned to you curiously, "I want to find a boyfriend." His words hit him like a punch to the stomach. "A boyfriend? You don't need anyone but me!" Ivan exclaimed, perhaps a touch too loudly, appearing slightly irked. "But, Ivan, I’m growing up, and so far, I've had no one." He grasped your shoulders forcefully and pulled you close, his face mere inches from yours. "I can be your boyfriend." Your cheeks flushed instantly. "You?" you stammered, "But... you’re like a brother to me." Ivan's heart plummeted, shattering into countless pieces.

"I will make you realize you don’t need anyone but me." With that, he closed the distance between your lips, kissing you with fervor and intensity. You stood there, speenchless, simply accepting it, unsure of how to react, your face burning like a tomato. He separated for a moment, then pulled yoi into his bedroom and pushed you into de bed. Before you can protest, he was atop you removing your clothes. "Ivan... What are you doing??" you remained in shock. "Making you body learn that it needs only me".

"But, Ivan, we can't...", you tried to push him away, but he remained still on top of you. "And why not?", he questioned, looking at you a little impatiently. "I just... I don't know." He continued, ignoring your pleas. You were completely naked now, completely exposed to him. "Ivan...", you murmured shyly. "I'm going to make you mine, whether you want it or not."

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, Kidnapped, dark content, inappropriate behavior, captured reader

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

For months, he had admired you from afar. He was a nobleman—wealthy, desired by many—yet, for some reason, you had never turned your gaze to him. He did everything to capture your attention, but the most he achieved was to become your friend. You continued finding new suitors, and, desperate for your love, he always ensured they were removed from your path.

And now, it was no different. Once again, you had taken a new lover. A man of some standing, but nothing compared to Marcel. Why would you never look at him? He had no time to dwell on it, though; Marcel had to do what he always did. He lured the man like a bird into a trap; and, foolishly, he fell right in. Another victim; once more, Marcel’s hands were stained with red. But something within him whispered that soon, you would give him the attention he deserved.

This scene was familiar: there you were, heartbroken, beside a grave, mourning the loss of yet another beloved. And he, the perfect gentleman, approached to comfort you. "Don’t cry, my dear."

"I loved him! Why do all my lovers die?"

"Everything happens for a reason. Perhaps you simply haven’t yet found the right man for you."

"..."

And it happened again, and again. The strange events surrounding your life led the townsfolk to fear you; they began to believe you were cursed, that anyone daring to court you would meet an untimely end. Some even believed you were the one responsible for their deaths.

Eventually, you, too, began to believe in this so-called curse. You started avoiding relationships, fearing for the lives of those you held dear. But Marcel would not give up on you so easily. Not after everything he had done.

One ordinary morning, Marcel invited you over for tea. Naively, you accepted. Arriving at his mansion, you knocked gently and waited for an answer. You heard the sound of a lock turning, and then the door opened, revealing him.

"Hello, welcome."

"Hello..."

"I can see you’re not feeling any better. Come in, I’ll help soothe you."

You entered the mansion and glanced around, admiring every corner of his residence. Marcel walked ahead, leading the way, and you followed. Once seated at the grand table, you both began exchanging light conversation. Holding the teacup, you raised it to your lips, taking a sip of the drink. It was smooth, delightful. He watched you with a faint smile, "Are you feeling better?" he asked, sipping his own tea. "A little, yes. Thank you."

"Wonderful to hear, my dear," he said, his smile widening. But you suddenly felt weak, your vision blurring. "You know, I have always loved you, and you never noticed." You struggled to understand his words as your body grew heavy. "I love you deeply. I’ve done everything for you, yet still, you never looked at me. Do you know how that feels?"

"I... don’t understand," you murmured. "I am the one who doesn’t understand! What am I lacking? Please, tell me!" He rose and came closer, gripping your face with force, compelling you to look at him. Before you could answer, your eyes began to close… thinking became harder. "What’s happening?"

"Oh, that? Well, I was tired of waiting. Finally, you’ll be mine."

You could no longer resist and your eyes fell shut. When you awoke, you were bound and naked. He sat beside you, watching intently. "You’re so beautiful, did you know that?" he murmured with a smile. Your mind was still foggy, unable to think clearly—everything felt strange. "And now, you're all mine, forever." He rose, then sat beside you on the bed, letting his fingers trace across your exposed skin. "All mine tonight and for eternity."

[grumpymiika]

Hello again! I'm a huge fan of Yume Nikki. Write a concept story about it

♡ TW: heavy topics, character death

♡ Very heavy, if you have a trigger, don't read it

Madotsuki couldn’t say how many months she had been in her room. She had no one, no one who cared for her. She was entirely alone in the world—or rather, in her room. For her room was her world, her bubble to escape reality. She was thinner than what could be considered healthy, for she didn’t eat well or often. Her frail body rose from the chair where she had been sitting, writing her dreams in a small journal.

She stood up and collapsed onto the bed, too weak to continue. She carried too many traumas, too many dark memories—so dark that she would never dare share them with anyone. Her tired eyes slowly closed; it was all she could do, to sleep until she would never wake again. It didn’t take long for her to slip into slumber.

Madotsuki found herself in her room and calmly rose from the bed; she was accustomed to her lucid dreams. She looked around, and everything seemed normal; she couldn’t tell if she was asleep or awake. Madotsuki slowly walked toward the door and turned the handle, revealing her Nexus—the place where all her memories and traumas were stored. They took the shape of fragile eggs, delicate and close to shattering.

The Nexus was dark, and no sound could be heard—only her own footsteps echoing. She was always here, in this realm of her subconscious. She moved slowly toward one of the eggs and sat beside it, gazing at it with melancholy; it probably reminded her of something. When she touched it, she awoke in her bed, startled, sweating. She said nothing, just lay there, staring at the ceiling.

She... had made a decision. Madotsuki rose from bed, slipped on her slippers, made the bed, and placed her journal on top. With tentative steps, she walked to the balcony and gazed up at the sky for the last time. The sky stretched like a vast gray shroud, cast in heavy shades of blue and faded lilac, almost washed out by the absence of light. Thick, shapeless clouds hung low, suspended in the air, so near that she could almost feel their weight, as if they bore the weariness of all the days and nights that had passed. There was no glimmer from the stars nor on the horizon; only a heavy silence, an empty expanse. The wind touched her face gently. She was resolved. She let herself surrender to the skies—or rather, to the concrete below. Red stained the ground and her lips. At last, the end of her endless, hollow days, the end of her nightmares. It was all over; nothing remained of this dreaming mind. Higanbana covered her chest, spilling onto the floor.

Her eyes blinked slowly; she saw the crowd drawing near to her body. It hurt, but that didn’t matter. At least, she could look at the sky.

[grumpymiika]

♡ Yandere, mention of persecution, stalker

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Brian is utterly consumed by Him, the faceless entity that devours his mind and commands his every thought. He has become a puppet, controlled by an unseen force that holds him on the fragile edge of reality. In the rare instances when he grasps fleeting moments of consciousness, he scarcely recognizes himself in the mirror—his identity replaced by a hollow darkness.

In one such moment of lucidity, wandering aimlessly through a cold night, Brian glimpses a young woman, distracted as she carries a bag of groceries. The sight of her stirs him strangely, igniting a curiosity he cannot ignore. Something about you—perhaps your calm expression or the familiarity of your routines—pulls him in, evoking in him, if only for an instant, a trace of the humanity he has lost.

Driven by this distorted curiosity, Brian begins to follow you to your home, watching from a distance as you enter and close the door. He lingers there, motionless, transfixed by the lighted window. The simplicity of your routine awakens within him an inexplicable fascination—a faint, distant memory of the normalcy he once knew.

In the days that follow, this turns into a ritual. Brian watches as you leave for work, as you meet with friends, and, most hauntingly, in the solitary nights when you read by the window’s glow. He hides in the shadows, ensuring he remains unseen.

One day, you begin to sense his presence. You don’t see him clearly, but an eerie chill passes over you as you walk down a deserted street, an uncanny feeling of being watched. Each night, the sensation grows stronger. Occasionally, you discover small, unfamiliar objects left outside your door—a dried leaf, a small stone, things seemingly innocuous yet unsettling. Though barely aware of his own actions, Brian feels compelled to leave these “marks” for you.

Ah, but one day, the timing will be just right.

Patiently, he waits for that perfect moment—the day when he will finally take you as his own.

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, dark content

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Wilted flowers in the rain. The storm raged on, unrelenting; the world wept, mourning alongside him.

In truth, he never really had a chance with you. You were the very image of perfection, and he—well, he as nothing. Just a pitiful, foolish boy in the rain.

He stood by the bus stop, holding a large, wilted bouquet in his hands, tears slipping from his eyes but masked by the rain. He had just tried to confess his love for you. And you'd deceived him in the harshest way. He had truly believed you might feel something for him as well, but seemed you were merely leading him on, allowing him this delusions. His clothes were soaked, adding a chill that only deepened his sadness. From now on, he knew be wouldn't have the nerve even to be in the same room as you.

The bus finally appeared in the distance, its light piercing through the downpour. He waited as it approached and stopped, stepping on slowly. Sitting by the window, he wondered why he'd even tried. It would have been better to stay trapped in the agony of unspoken feelings than to face the desolation of rejection. He'd prepared so carefully for today: he wore his best clothes, combed his hair, usually untamed, and put on his finest cologne. He'd even brought your favorite flowers. And for what? For you tell him, "We don't even know each other. I don't think i can accept your feelings." Not know each other? He knew everything about you!

Unable to bear the rejection, he'd decided to end it all. Looking down at his hands now, those very hands he had planned to use to take his own life. But, well, you deserve it, didn't you? After everything he did for you both, after everyone he hurt, it wasn't fair for you to turn him away.

You got what you deserved.

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, stockholm syndrome, mention of kidnapping, toxic relationship

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

How many months, or even years, had it been since you found yourself in this predicament? The atmosphere, at first, had been unbearable. He would come home from work, weary and irritable, and all he wanted was for you to fulfill the role he had assigned to you: that of the perfect wife.

In the beginning, you simply couldn’t accept it. You didn’t want to be here, and you made no effort to hide it. When he arrived, you wouldn’t greet him, you wouldn’t tidy the house, you wouldn’t prepare dinner. This enraged him, and a harsh punishment would always follow.

So why now, are you sitting on the floor by the door, waiting for him to come home? Why had you cleaned the house and made dinner? At first, you did it out of fear, dreading the consequences of disobedience. But now, it was different. And honestly, you didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Two minutes until he arrived, and the anxiety surged through your body. Were you anxious for his return...? What is wrong with you? Since when had you grown so emotional around him? At first, you loathed him. He was your tormentor, the one who made you suffer the most! And he masked his cruelty with the façade of "protection." While your mind waged an internal battle against your feelings, your attention was drawn to the door, which was creaking open. It was him, he had finally arrived! "Finally"? What are you thinking?

"My love, were you waiting for me?" His lips stretched into a wide grin; he still hadn’t grown used to your newfound obedience. "Yes, I was... How was work?" You lowered your head as you spoke, unsettled by the strange reactions his presence stirred within you.

"Ah, the usual. Exhausting and dull. And how was your day?"

"My day... It was okay."

"Good girl," he said, patting your head as if you were some kind of pet, and yet, you couldn’t help but blush.

"Is dinner ready, my love?"

"Yes. I made your favorite." His smile widened, and with delight, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "You’ve been so good to me, darling." You remained silent, unsure of how to respond. You were being... good to him? For some reason, the thought filled you with an odd sensation.

"Shall we take a bath and then eat together?"

"Sure..." You had finally become the perfect wife for him. Finally, you had learned to love him. He knew that all the effort would pay off in the end, that eventually, you would submit to him. After all, he loved you more than anything in this world. Love heals all wounds, doesn’t it? We love those who love us.

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, dark content, mention of kidnapping

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

The clock struck six in the evening when the "Sweet Sugar" café began to empty. The atmosphere shifted into a post-service calm, the warm glow of the hanging lamps casting a golden halo over the wooden tables, highlighting the rustic texture of the furniture. Gradually, the customers who sought a quick coffee or a casual conversation left, leaving the iron chairs vacant and the now-motionless tables offering a sense of tranquility.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee still lingered in the air, intertwined with a faint hint of cinnamon, a remnant of the cakes and biscuits baked earlier. This aroma blended seamlessly with the earthy, damp scent seeping through the entrance, where the first drops of rain began to fall, creating fleeting patterns on the cobblestone sidewalk. The soft sound of the rain, slowly intensifying, brought a comforting sensation, as if the world outside was gradually dissolving.

Inside the café, the clattering of cutlery and the clinking of cups on saucers diminished. The lively conversations of the patrons gave way to an occasional murmur. A soothing melody played softly in the background, filling the space with a gentle rhythm, complementing the serenity of the moment.

Through the large front windows, the sky darkened, gradually shifting to deep shades of blue and gray. The city lights began to shimmer on the rain-splattered glass. A few hurried passersby, sheltered under colorful umbrellas, moved briskly outside, while others, more leisurely, strolled, savoring the fresh, clean scent of the air.

You had worked here for two years. You knew the regulars well and could easily tell which ones preferred a strong coffee and which favored something sweeter. Your smile was welcoming, but it had also become a mask, concealing the exhaustion of long workdays and, lately, the nagging feeling that something was amiss.

Tonight, however, you were especially weary. It had been a busy day, and the forecast of heavy rain seemed to offer little solace. As you arranged the cups on the counter, the doorbell chimed, signaling the entrance of a customer. You looked up, ready to greet another visitor.

The man who entered seemed entirely ordinary at first glance. He wore a gray overcoat, carried a wet umbrella, his brown hair neatly combed, and his smile appeared friendly. He sat at a corner table, the darkest spot in the café, where the amber light of the lamps didn’t quite reach. You approached, asking him what he would like to drink.

"A cappuccino, please," he said, looking at you with an intensity that made you feel slightly uneasy. His smile was warm, but there was something about it that filled you with doubt. You nodded, trying to shake off the strange feeling, and returned to the counter.

As you prepared the cappuccino, you glanced discreetly at the table where the man sat. He seemed absorbed in a magazine, though his eyes occasionally flickered up from the page to observe you. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to remain professional and not let unsettling thoughts disturb you.

When you brought him his drink, he looked up with that same warm smile, though his eyes retained an unnerving gleam. He began to speak casually, almost intimately, as if you were old friends. His words flowed smoothly, filling the silence between the scattered conversations around you. He asked how long you had been working there, about your favorite music, and what you enjoyed doing outside of work. Wendy responded with a brief smile, trying to be polite without being too personal. She had encountered this type of customer before—chatty, curious, perhaps a little lonely—but there was something more to it this time, something she could feel.

You kept your replies short, your voice neutral, trying not to encourage the conversation. But the man continued, speaking about his hobbies, his recent explorations of local cafés. He mentioned that he had recently moved to the city, yet something about the way he spoke, as if narrating a rehearsed story, left you feeling uncertain. You didn’t recall seeing him before, and that wasn’t unusual in a café that welcomed so many faces each day. But there was something about him—something in the excessive brightness of his smile or the fixed gaze that made you want to keep your distance.

As he spoke, you scanned the rest of the café, searching for a distraction, anything that could give you an excuse to walk away. The rain continued outside, now heavier, pounding against the windows as the streetlights cast distorted reflections on the wet ground. The night had only just begun, but for you, it already felt far too long. You wished for the conversation to end, for the man to request his bill and leave, so you could return to the quiet routine of organizing cups and cleaning tables in peace.

The rain outside intensified, and a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the café. You noticed the man flinch at the sound, though his smile didn’t entirely fade. He was too curious, you thought, as if he wanted to know everything about your life. After a while, you decided to return to the counter, leaving him alone with his cappuccino.

The clock on the café wall, with its elegant hands and Roman numerals, approached seven in the evening, time to close the café. The minutes dragged on slowly, as if each was longer than the last. The sound of the rain outside was a constant hum, a monotonous rhythm that usually brought peace, but not tonight.

You were nearing the end of your shift. Your hands moved swiftly, putting away cups and wiping down the counter with precise motions, but your eyes occasionally darted back to the man in the corner. He was still there, seated at the table, his hands clasped around the now-empty cup. He hadn’t ordered anything else since the cappuccino. The man remained, watching you with that unrelenting gaze. The café was nearly empty now. You glanced at the man again, hoping he would ask for the bill or signal that he was ready to leave, but he remained motionless, observing.

The tables around were vacant, and the chairs had already been stacked. You knew it was time to ask the man to leave. He hadn’t moved since you’d brought him the cappuccino, and his cup now sat dry, as if he held onto it just to justify his presence. You took a deep breath, preparing to approach the table, your heart quickening with anticipation. You decided it was time to ask him to leave. As you walked across the wooden floor, your footsteps echoed, each movement seemed to carry extra weight.

Reaching the man's table, you maintained your professional smile, but the nervousness in your eyes was hard to conceal. "Sir, the café is closing," you said, trying to keep your voice calm and even. It was then that he grabbed your arm, a swift, unexpected gesture that caught you off guard and immediately put you on alert.

His grip was firm, but his eyes, still fixed on yours, smiled in a way that felt unsettling, as if he was more interested in your reaction than the situation itself. The pressure of his touch carried an undeniable sense of impending danger.

"You know," he said, his voice low and chilling, "I've waited a long time for this moment. Why don't we finish our conversation somewhere a bit more private?"

Your smile vanished completely. You knew you were in danger. What did he want? Why so many questions about your life? You felt your heartbeat quicken, each pulse echoing in your ears.

You knew you needed to act quickly. With a sharp motion, you pulled away. "I’ll call security if you don’t leave now," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. His smile faded, replaced by a cold stare, as sharp as a blade. His eyes, once friendly, now glimmered with a disturbing intensity, as if a mask had fallen away, revealing the predator he had always been.

The man released your arm, but the chill of his touch lingered like a haunting memory. He stood up slowly, each movement deliberate, exuding a disquieting calm. The café’s soft light cast shadows across his face, accentuating the hard lines of his expression. What mattered now was getting out of the situation safely, and you knew you had to proceed with caution. You stepped back, keeping the table between the two of you. The man stepped backward, his eyes still locked on yours.

You ran to the counter, frantically searching for your phone to call the police. The man quickly closed the distance, trapping you in his arms and pulling you away from the counter.

“Let me go! Please...!” you begged, tears streaming from your eyes. “I just want to talk calmly with you,” he said, dragging you toward the back door. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. Just relax,” though his voice remained calm, the fear inside you only grew, and you began to struggle. His gaze darkened, his grip tightening painfully around you. He forced open the door with his back, shoving you into the hard floor of the staff room at the back of the café. He quickly shut the door behind him, turning to look at you as you lay on the ground.

“What do you want...?” you whispered, terrified. In response, the man runs a hand through his hair, disheveling it. You watch him intently, unmoving, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. Then, with a deliberate motion, he retrieves a stun gun from his pocket and aims it at you. "It’s best you do as I say from now on. Let’s go to your new home."

[grumpymiika]

♡ Hello, how are you all doing? I have a proposal for you!

Send me suggestions, what would you like to read?

♡ There will be two options: Paid and free content. I believe most will choose the free one, but that's okay! It's just a small support.

♡ About what I write: Marble Hornets, Creepypastas, Yandere content, My Hero Academia/Boku no Hero, Seraph of the End/Owari no Seraph, and others: message me privately to check if I write about that content.

♡ What I do NOT write for free: Explicit NSFW, pedophilia, scat/piss, omegaverse.

♡ What I do NOT write for paid content: Pedophilia, scat/piss, omegaverse.

♡ If you have any questions, feel free to contact me! I write a bit of everything, but my specialty is yandere content. Feel free to send your suggestions, and if you can and want to, please pay. It will be a great help.

♡ Price list

• One story: $5

• Explicit gore: +2

• Explicit NSFW: +2

♡ It's through PicPay. It would be an international transaction to complete the payment. Don't forget to let me know, send me a dm!

[grumpymiika]

Hello, how are you? I saw that you are new to the yandere world. I want to see more of your writing: write a short story where the princess is saved by a wicked evil yandere.

Hello! I'm doing well, and you? I appreciate you trusting my writing, I hope I won't disappoint you.

Yandere!Prince x reader!Princess

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

♡ TW: Yandere, dark content, mention of kidnaping

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

It was like a scene from a fairy tale. The prince, brave and noble-hearted, would scale the highest of towers to save the princess from the wicked dragon. She had been abandoned there to wither away, her only company the rats and her own tears. She had waited far too long for her prince to come. But at last, he had arrived.

He had traversed countless perils, all for the sake of rescuing her. He ascended the spiral staircase with the utmost caution, careful not to alert the dragon, and dashed through every door, seeking the princess who had been imprisoned. He had heard so much about her. Since his youth, he had been given the task of retrieving her, and his entire life revolved around this mission. Without it, he could not fathom his purpose in the world.

Finally, after kicking open yet another door, he found her. She lay asleep, presenting an angelic sight to Peter, who gazed at her from the threshold. She was even more beautiful than he had imagined. He approached her slowly, his eyes filled with admiration. She was resting upon a bed of red roses, which only enhanced her beauty. Her hands were folded across her chest, her expression so peaceful, it seemed a crime to wake her from such a deep slumber. He sat at the edge of the bed, and with a gesture of love, he kissed her lips. Her lips were soft, and for him, it was the most exquisite sensation of his life. He pulled back, watching her sleep with tenderness, his hand resting gently on her cheek. At last, she opened her eyes.

She began to scream wildly, perhaps startled by his bloodstained clothes, or perhaps out of shyness. Likely, she was just terribly shy. The princess tried to rise from the bed, but he held her down, keeping her in place.

"Who are you...?" she whispered, her voice trembling in fear at the sight of this stranger. But in his twisted mind, she was merely curious about who her beloved prince might be.

"I’m Peter, and I’ve come to rescue you. We’ll be married and live happily ever after."

"No! I’m not going to marry you. I don’t even know you," she retorted, her words filling him with a confusing mix of emotions. One side of him was awash with sorrow—his princess didn’t want to marry him. But the other side seethed with rage. How dare she? He had come so far just to save her—what an ungrateful woman!

"Come now, I’ll take you home," he said, his voice commanding, almost as though he were giving her an order. Luckily for him, she had no choice but to comply. After all, she was alone in this vast castle, trapped in the tallest tower. Without the dragon, she had nothing left.

He extended his hand to her, a gesture for them to leave together. Reluctantly, her hand trembling, she took his, and he led her out of the castle.

They walked outside together, and for the first time in years, she felt the breeze against her face.

"It’s so beautiful," she remarked.

"Where I live is far more beautiful. You’ll love it, I’m sure." She didn’t reply with words, only smiled at him, grateful to finally leave her confinement.

"You know, ever since I was a boy, I was told stories about you—'The princess trapped in the tower.' My goal was always to grow strong enough to rescue you." He was so sweet, the princess couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps marrying him wouldn’t be so bad after all. How wrong she was.

They had a long journey ahead to Peter’s castle, where they were greeted with flowers and gifts. Their union was inevitable—it was written in the stars. After all, she was a princess, and he, a prince.

The next day, the wedding ceremony took place. It was a beautiful moment, one Peter would never forget. But for her, it was the beginning of hell, a memory she would carry as a deep regret. Perhaps it would have been better to remain with the dragon.

The first few weeks were wonderful. He gave her everything she wanted, did everything she asked. She held the world in the palm of her hand. But after a month, things began to change. He never left her side, not for a moment. Wherever she went, he followed. Now, she couldn’t even step outside into the castle’s vast garden. He didn’t want to share her with the world—or so it seemed to her. Eventually, she couldn’t do anything without his approval. His excuse for this was always, "It’s for your own good," but she knew better. He just wanted to keep her all to himself.

One night, determined to win her freedom, terrified of spending the rest of her life in this gilded cage, she made a plan to escape. She gathered her belongings and slipped out through the window, trying to draw as little attention as possible. Just as she was about to leave through the garden, Peter grabbed her from behind, pulling her close.

"Where do you think you’re going?" You couldn’t find the words to respond, staring at him in fear.

"Do you know what I went through to get you out of that castle?! You’re ungrateful, thinking of betraying me after everything I’ve done!"

"I’m not trying to betray you, I just..."

"Enough!" he cut you off sharply. He hoisted you over his shoulder as you struggled to break free.

"Put me down!" you cried, but he didn’t answer. You could tell by the way his shoulders shook that he was crying.

He carried you back to the castle, but instead of locking you in the bedroom, he placed you in a cell, hidden away in a dark corner.

"I’m sorry, my princess. But I know you’ll try to escape again, so this will be your new home."

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, dark content, mention of kidnapping

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Another monotonous, dreary day unfolded before your eyes. You were stuck in the loathsome math class, your teacher a bore beyond words. You couldn’t wait to leave the room—it was the last class of the day, and the fact that it was his only fueled your fury. Time crawled at a snail’s pace, as though it wasn’t even trying to pass. Fortunately for you, as you endured those seemingly endless hours, you drifted into a deep sleep. The teacher made no effort to wake you; it seemed even he didn’t care about his own class.

The bell rang, but you were still far from waking. You remained there, asleep and alone—or so you thought. Gentle fingers brushed against your head, rousing you from your slumber. It was Sato, the unbearably cute boy from your class. You had never spoken to him before, so you were taken aback that he, of all people, had chosen to wake you.

"Sato? Do you need something?" you stammered, unsure how to break the awkward silence that hung between you since the moment he touched you awake.

"Actually, there is something I want to tell you." Your curious eyes locked on him, awaiting what he had to say. "Kind of..." He paused for a moment, and before you could say anything, he blurted out, "I love you! I want you to be my girlfriend!" His voice rose in desperation, almost as if he were pleading.

A heavy silence fell again, the atmosphere thick and uncomfortable.

“Well... maybe we can be friends for now? I don’t really know you that well yet,” you replied, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“That sounds good to me! Thank you so much,” he grinned widely, then began gathering your belongings for you. The two of you left school together, and you didn’t even stop to wonder why he had stayed ten minutes after classes had ended. You were too swept up in the moment to doubt him.

As the days passed, his constant presence became the norm. He followed you everywhere, never leaving your side for even a second. Over time, without even realizing it, all of your other friends drifted away, and he became your sole companion. You began to view him as the only genuine person at school, while everyone else seemed fake—an impression he eagerly reinforced. Sato constantly spoke ill of others, telling you how much people secretly hated you, how they gossiped behind your back. Worse yet, your reputation at school began to plummet. It seemed no one liked you anymore. But at least you had Sato, right? Or so you thought. A grave mistake.

One day, by chance, while walking alone to school, you spotted Sato talking with Mei, one of the girls he had always spoken badly about. Finding the situation odd, you approached slowly, trying to eavesdrop without being noticed. To your shock, the truth hit you like a slap in the face—Sato was spreading lies about you to Mei, slithering like a snake.

Unable to handle the situation, you fled to the lockers to change your shoes. In your sadness, you violently threw your bag to the ground and opened your locker, only to find your shoes defaced with paint, the word "slut" scrawled across them. That was the final straw. You couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face. The shameless boy, seeing you cry, approached and asked in a sickeningly sweet voice, "What’s wrong?"

You couldn’t help but feel sickened by his false tone, dripping with deceit. "Don’t play dumb—you know what you did! Did you think I’d never find out?!"

"What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?" he retorted, feigning innocence.

"You, who called yourself my friend, betrayed me!" Without waiting for his response, you grabbed your bag and ran out of the school.

Once home, you fumbled with the keys, trying to unlock the door. Suddenly, you were startled as someone grabbed you from behind, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"You’re wrong. I didn’t do any of that," it was him. The audacity of him to follow you—this was the limit!

"Let go of me!" you shouted, struggling in his arms. To your surprise, he was much stronger than he looked. How could someone so thin have such strength?

"Please, just listen to me," he pleaded, trying to maintain a calm voice, though it was clear he was seething beneath the surface.

"No, you listen to me! You’re an idiot, leave me alone!" Finally, his patience snapped. His grip tightened, constricting your breath.

"Stop... let me go..." you gasped, breathless as his hold grew tighter. Your attempts to free yourself grew weaker with each passing moment. But he didn’t stop—he only squeezed harder. It wasn’t long before your consciousness faded, and you collapsed in his arms.

He finally had you… at last.