#/cw torture

[staticintone]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

inspired by the roleplay with @electriccapitalist

[pmpwbrrs]

It does not care

[malacandrax]

Sex worker/Charity worker Halstarion AU [set late 70's/early 80's]

---

Why did I set the whole thing inside a car :). Also forgive me that is not a period accurate interior I did it from my head because apparently I can do that now...because I keep setting things in cars...

AU TAG

To read them in order:

[Part 1- Meeting]

[Part 2-Embellish]

[Part 3-Theory]

[Part 4- Number]

[Part 5- Bruise]

[Part 6- Scenic]

[Part 7- Nice Things]

[Part 8-Pizza]

[Part 9- Want] -That's this one!

This is loosely based on current UK resources, not 70’s-80’s, and I also don’t know how well a nuanced situation like this would be dealt with by our gov/councils. I don't have much faith in the systems but we're gonna pretend they work.

[originalartblog]

Unforeseen learning opportunity!

(wikitionary to explain the scar)

(bonus)

[yandere--stuck]

NEED to know your thoughts on a yandere bill cipher

⚠️ Listen, pal, I KNOW why you're reading this. You've got a crush on YOURS TRULY! That's right, buddy, the cat's outta the bag! Well, not like the cat was ever really in the bag to begin with. What? Didn't think my all-seeing eye would spy you making goo-goo eyes at artistic depictions of me? AHAHA, aw, hey! Nothing to be embarrassed about. It's not like I can blame you, I mean, have you met me? A winning personality, great sense of humor, beautiful singing voice - I'm a total catch! And between you and me, you have better taste than the rest of your species’ population.

👁 There are probably numerous reason why you like stuff like this: The obsession, the possessive behavior, the VIOLENCE. Sure sounds like romance to ME! But as for you… Is it the abandonment issues? Lack of validation in your life? Feeling misunderstood and ostracized by the world? Loneliness? A desire for an escape into a fictional world? Or are you like me? Is romance just no good without the true passion of twisted devotion and obsession? There's no need to LIE! We're kindred spirits, you and I.

⚠️ I know just how you feel. You've been kicked down, laughed at, and made to feel small. You've gone unappreciated by blind MORONS who wouldn't know greatness if it melted their eyeballs out their ears. Because you are MEANT for greatness. You are meant for something more, and I bet it burns you to know that. That you're better than all of them. That they're nothing without you, and they DESERVE nothing. They deserve to BE nothing. I know just how you feel because I was in your place. Surrounded by flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams. HA, and I sure showed them. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, HUH? ME!!!!!!

👁 The point is, I know you. I've had my eye on you for quite a while, kid. Q U I T E A W H I L E. And might I say, out of all the flesh bags that have clogged my vision over the centuries, YOU'RE clearly the best looking outta all of ‘em, hot stuff. But looks aren't everything, of course! You've got a personality to match. Gotta admit, it's cute how you get so invested in your interests, the little hobbies you pick up, just watching you go about your day is like the universe’s greatest reality TV show starring my favorite person in the multiverse! OH, I could just decaptiate you and nuzzle your fleshy little head in an approximation of a kiss right now!!!

⚠️ So, c'mon, just let me in. Shake my hand! Let's make a deal. No matter how big or small! And it’s not just for the purpose of liberating your dimension, no. I want to really get under your skin. To feel what it's like to be in the body of my favorite person. As close as two beings can get, closer than you can get with unworthy specimens of your own kind, more intimate than any experience in the world. I want to be that close to you. Because you're mine. You're MY HUMAN and NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. Y'HEAR ME?

👁 So, you might as well accept that you and me are destined, kid. The signs are all there. So, if I were you (and I could be, if you'd just let me), I'd do this the easy way. Because right now, there's two ways this can go down. The easy way: You summon me, and we make a deal. Anything your precious human heart desires - and more! You'll be my precious human pet, my puppet, my toy. Mine to own and have rule beside me! You'll prove everyone who put you down wrong! Anything you want - love, money, fame, worship, vengeance - it'll all be yours, and I'll give it to you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want what's best for you. Because I’M the only one who actually cares about you. Everything you wanted will be yours. And there'll be an eternal party to celebrate our eternal love… Or, you could do this the hard way. Cause I'm gettin’ outta here one way or another. And when I do, well… I don't think you'd like being locked up in The Love Cage to be TORTURED until you reciprocate my feelings and see the light. I'd say I wouldn't want to, but that'd be lying. So, it's probably not a good idea to give me more of a reason to. So, whaddaya say? You know you deserve the best. Shake my hand and join the winning team. Either way, you're mine.

[heritageposts]

For context, since this is getting almost no mainstream coverage by Western media:

[cw rape & further warning: there are brief clips in the video below from the leaked Sde Teiman recording, but it doesn't show any of the sexual abuse. The full CCTV video, which I won't be sharing here, contains footage of a Palestinian prisoner being gang raped by Israeli soldiers.]

Testimony from a former prisoner of Sde Teiman:

“Most of the prisoners will come out with rectum injuries [caused by the sexual assault],” Salem, 36, told Middle East Eye.  The prisoners will tell each other it is haemorrhoids, he added, but most are just avoiding admitting they had been raped, sometimes by female soldiers. In the following eyewitness account, Salem recalls his ordeal, starting from his arrest at a hospital in Gaza until his release. 

[janearts]

Roisia in her original Divinity: Original Sin build was a witch and witchcraft spells are a combination of D&D's Necromancy + Enchantment schools. I replicated that in-game and had a think about the… complications that might arise when Astarion realises that this unassuming woman has also been a bit of a deft hand at persuading, deceiving, and manipulating her targets too.

[cupcakeslushie]

Febuwhump Day 8: Why Won’t It Stop?

How many days has it been? Kendra only pauses the constant feed when she comes in the room to gloat.

Next

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Hi!

I’d love a part two to your hit me hard and soft fanfic. Maybe Y/N continues to avoid them as a romantic relationship but begins to accept a platonic one liking eating with Dick or hanging out with Jason at school, etc… but the Batfam gets impatient and talks about why they are afraid (and maybe hunt down the ex which could gain their trust?)

Hit me Hard and Soft: Whispers in the Shadows

Synopsis: The relationship between the batfam gets broken after mistakes lead to accusations, and accusations lead to contingency plans.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: Poly!Yandere; All characters aged up; Possible betrayal; Bad father Bruce, but is he actually the asshole here?; Arguments; Mentions of killing and torture; Possibly ooc batboys: English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Not much action between Reader and the batboys here, but definitely something. Read the end to answer my question👀

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

— You can't be serious.

The tension was at its highest point. Only a few times priorly did the conflict between all of them get this bad, and as always, they feared things couldn't go back to the way they were.

— I am being serious. That's how things work. — Bruce stated darkly and Dick narrowed his eyes. — We tried it the nice way, I trusted you to behave, but you couldn't do that. — Bruce raised his gloved hand and pointed at Damian. — First, Damian can't control himself. He spent a decade acting right. Justice, not vengeance. But now, he's using (Y/N) as an excuse to defile orders and act as an assassin again! — Damian hissed and clenched his fists, taking a step forward.

— If you really cared for them, you would understand, father! But as always, you put your so-called mission above everything, even us! Even them! — Bruce clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in his direction, then turned to Jason.

— And you! How many chances do I have to give you? Both of you! You don't change. You will never change. And until you do that, you will never deserve (Y/N)’s or mine trust. Or their love. — Jason's heart broke in two, but he didn't react on the outside. Just kept his hard, Red Hood’s exterior. As he always did every time he and Bruce had a falling out.

— Bruce… — Dick muttered, a mix of a warning to remind him of not going too far, and betrayal by what he was witnessing. Bruce didn't look phased. And the fact he was still wearing Batman's suit, minus the cowl, just made this whole situation more genuine. He was neither Bruce Wayne, the persona, nor Batman, the vigilant. He was just Bruce. Their boss and their father.

— You hunted down that man, tortured and killed him! And you… — He took his gaze away from Jason and glared at Damian again. — Knew about it, and didn't notify us!

— I did know about it. Todd, you should have told us before. I also wanted that scum’s blood in my hands-

— ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU WILL STAY AWAY FROM (Y/N). FOREVER.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

— Sound’s convenient. — All head’s snapped in his direction.

— What do you mean, Tim? — Dick asked. All muscles on his body tense. Tim gazed at him for a moment, then at Damian and Jason, then at Bruce again, staring directly into his eyes. — I just think it's very convenient that Bruce's getting rid of two of them. While your reason checks with past conflicts we had, with your morals and mission. It's also good for you that you wouldn't have to share (Y/N)’s attention with so many people in the future. Right, Bruce?

Silence took hold of the room.

— What are you implying? — Bruce stomped forward until he was face to face with Tim, their nose’s almost touching, daring him to say more. Tim didn't back down.

— Yeah, Tim, what're you implying? — Jason raised an eyebrow behind his helmet and took a step forward. The others copied that action.

— I’ve been watching you, Bruce. Just like you've been watching us. I know you’ve been upgrading contingency plans, more specifically, our contingency plans. I think he's been trying to keep us busy. To rile us up to commit mistakes. While he hogs all of (Y/N)’s attention. He said Damian could be trusted again if he proved himself, that was a year ago, and he still didn't give Damian permission. I bet he knew Damian would get restless and get more violent with criminals. Until he had an excuse to kick him out. And Jason, he let you spend time with (Y/N) at university. But as soon as (Y/N) started calling you their best friend, hanging out with you outside of classes and even confiding in you about their trauma, proving that our plan to make them trust us was finally working, suddenly (Y/N)’s ex receives an offer to transfer to GCPD, while everyone here has a… Weakness, when it comes to losing people we love and avenging their suffering, it's a known fact some are more… Trigger-happy than others.

Dick shook his head.

— Tim, that's something serious you're accusing him of.

— Let him continue. — Bruce growled darkly.

— I don't have anything to accuse you of, Bruce. I just don't trust you. — He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

— So you're ready to brush off what they did? — Bruce accused and Dick started to feel even more restless seeing that the distance between them didn't change, feeling the urge to get in the middle and defend his little brother.

— I didn't say anything. But I wouldn't be surprised if me or Dick were next. — That made Dick snap.

No, he can't.

He can’t keep me away from them.

After everything I did.

We're just so close now.

Just earlier today we were having lunch together.

He can't.

He can't do this to me.

Is that how Jay and Dami felt? Is that why they snapped and started killing people? Is that why Jason killed that guy? Just for the idea of losing them forever?

Is that why, even with how heartbreaking and horrible it sounds, any possibility of someone trying to take them away from them made Tim voice out his paranoia? Thoughts Dick had when everything was quiet, when he just brushed it off as intrusive thoughts?

It isn't… Logical… But it also is…

The only thing stopping him from believing Tim wholeheartedly is the lifelong trust he had on Bruce. But those are just feelings. And they all feel. Intensely. For you.

And as much as they tried to make it peaceful, everyone having a piece of you and being happy. They were having problems, and a traitor was always a possibility.

Either way, he couldn't take that chance.

That night, Wayne Manor slept almost completely empty. All of the sons were gone. And you would know it too.

It's been a week. They've been meeting at the apartment just beside yours. It was empty, until Damian bought it, and started living there after cutting ties with his father. He wasn't happy that the others were also using it as their nest, a place to meet and talk about strategies. And keep an eye on you.

Damian was slowly steering his tea, mind elsewhere, not really paying mind to the conversation. While it was important, his stomach was full of butterflies and his heart pounded hard every time he thought about earlier, something he couldn't stop doing. After a whole year of being almost completely away from you, finally spending time with you was like a dream. That just made his resentment towards his father grow worse, even if he didn't do that on purpose, it still felt like injustice.

He knew since he was born, his way of doing things was always better.

He just told you he didn't know that part of the town much, and you, sweet you, already acquainted with his brothers, invited him to show him around. A bad taste came to his mouth whenever he thought he was the least close to you, even if he knew everything there was to know about his beloved. He got left behind. He let himself be left behind.

Because he was weak. Because he was submissive. Because he trusted his father.

His mother did send him to his progenitor's home saying that he needed to learn from him.

— We could use the League.

All heads snapped to him.

— Huh?

— We are talking about contingency plans for our father. We could have the League of Assassins on our side. Infinite resources against one single man. (Y/N) would live in luxury. And they did tell us… — His heart warmed at the sensation of finally feeling included in your life. — … Multiple times that they despised the cold weather Gotham always seems to have. Eth Alth'eban is always hot.

— We are not joining those fuckers, and you shut down that idea before I start believing what that old man said about you and kick your ass into your grave, demon brat. — Damian kept stoic after Jason's response.

— We could use the League for something good for once. I could. As the Head of the Demon. — He retorted with confidence.

Dick shook his head in disbelief.

— Dami, I think that's too much. It would only prove what Bruce was trying to say. — Damian leaned forward, as if getting closer would make his point come across as more genuine.

— I could do it! Not as a dictator like my grandfather! But as something actually good! Not just for us, but for everyone! The whole world!

— Does that megalomaniac plan of yours have an actual strategy? — Damian rolled his eyes.

— Of course it has. Kill anyone who gets in the way of my rightful place at birth. — Damian tilted his head at Tim, who looked at him in disbelief.

— Even Ras? — Damian frowned. What a dumb question. Damian would do anything for you.

— Especially Ras. — A fist hit the table and the oldest got up with a scowl in his face.

— No one. Is going to kill. Anyone. And we are not going to use the League. — Damian got up too.

— What is stopping you? This is for (Y/N)! It is not just some fucking petty act to annoy father. He acted behind our backs and he will take my beloved from me! From us!

— We don't know that yet! — Even with Dick's exclamation, it was clear not even him was totally sure about Bruce's intentions.

— … Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. — Tim muttered. They all observed he had a distant look on his face, it was the look he had when he was planning something. After a few seconds, he looked up again and got up, facing Damian. — I'm with you. It’ll be nice to see Ras look when he realizes he lost to me one last time. And to have whole guardianship of my spleen he keeps on his bedside table again.

— What? — The other three sputtered.

— I won't kill anyone. But I will help you and be an ally. Even if that means losing the Titans and leaving behind everything I build here. All for (Y/N). — Tim spoke. Jason got up.

— Tim, you can't be serious too. — He received a glare in return.

— I am. You're invited to join us. Or to become our enemy.

Damian was staring at Tim, the brother he always had a strange relationship with, full of fights and sarcasm, but they always knew they could count on each other in the end. Because they were family.

Of course, it would be nicer to have you all to himself, but he also needed more allies, and brilliant minds like his own. It would also hurt to lose every person he loved while choosing you, even if he would always choose you in the end.

— … What if (Y/N) doesn't trust us after this? — Dick mumbled, trying to see both sides before making a decision.

— We’ll explain to them. About how we got rid of every single individual who wanted to isolate and steal them from us. How we want to care for them. Keep them safe. And how I- We, made the world a better place in the process. — Dick glared at him halfheartedly.

— We have a solid plan here, Dick. We Just have to form our strategies based on what we have. It will work!

Dick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He started walking around the apartment, contemplating, listening in on your apartment and Tim and Damian in the background, trying to convince Jason.

When even Jason seemed convinced, Dick knew what he had to do.

Everyone turned to him when he came back to the table again, in expectation.

He looked Damian in the eyes and put his hand on his little brother's shoulders. So grown. So different from what he was before meeting you. You brought the worst out of him. Out of all of them. And you didn't even know it. That was the worse part.

But Dick was always known for being a manipulator.

— Congratulations, you're the new Demon's Head.

Extra note: I'm curious to if you guys think Bruce was actually planning something and not just being regular canon Batman putting his morals above family👀

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon @ladyel1x1r3l0p3r @wpdarlingpan @lilyalone @bloodyboi @gram-cracker24 @prongs-moon @sxftiebee

[eggsistential-breakdown]

started making this a couple weeks ago and then learned there's an art contest for it! had a lot more in mind for this but the deadline is as good of an excuse as any to force myself to take things manageably. Hopefully will be able to get to the end of it someday it's so epic in my brain hrgrgghgh

Song is by @sparkbirdmusic

also I have a YouTube channel now :3

[signanothername]

Nightmare conditioned his little killing machine to never dare even think of attacking him, so Killer let’s out his spite by doing the next best thing, torturing his twin as he fantasizes that it’s Nightmare under him, after all, their appearance and mannerisms are much more alike than either twin would like to admit

[staticintone]

Thinking about RAM stuff… (CW)

I think it’s very easy to brush him off if he’s not in your direct line of sight.

The odd talk about insects and his very distorted moral compass renders him semi-harmless when looking from a distance. Even more so if you end buying into what he ends up saying, especially about his choice in targets.

It’s the comparison between Lecter in Silence of the Lambs versus Lecter in Red Dragon. Clarice falls for the manipulation, but Will does not. This makes Lecter bend to Will a bit more, but become more dastardly in the background. He goes to Dolarhyde and gives him Will’s home address because he can’t attack him himself.

That’s RAM if you tie his hands.

In the last Ordeal I did—on a 2P Alastor on discord—one of the most horrific moments for me was just how willing RAM was to do unnecessary damage. Things like breaking 2P’s staff to subdue him, even when he already had him and knew he couldn’t get away. Breaking his jaw or ripping out his tongue for the sake of it, only refusing to do it himself because he “needed his fingers”.

And none of it was even spiteful. Just easier.

Taking his power, his agency away for the simple reason of getting the Metamorphosis moving forward more quickly. It’s almost business.

Speaking of…

RAM focuses very heavily on getting directly to the nerves. There was an image in my mind of him playing on peripheral nerves like a stringed instrument. Delicate and precise, even when he pulls it out to the root. Splicing the myelin sheaths and then putting it right back in. Sewing it up because it hurts more than just letting it rebuild on its own.

The musculature is just a means to an end. He could gore someone. Tear them to pieces. But that doesn’t get to the source.

If the idea is to set someone on fire, he won’t wait to watch the flame spark. And he also won’t touch the central nervous system during the torture for the same reasons. In his mind, the gray matter is reserved for the rewrite. The white matter toes the line between destruction and safety perfectly, as if the central nerves would somehow nullify the process entirely if they were torn. As if they can’t regenerate properly on their own, or would make things over too quickly.

He does want to hear you scream, after all.

There’s a distinction between the body and the brain to him. As if none of the other organs have their important functions. They can all be ignored, especially when he considers most of them nothing more than a meal.

A person is nothing more than a soul, a bundle of nerves, and all the meat that surrounds those things.

He doesn’t want your heart.

The brain will make sacrifices, to all organs and even itself, to keep the heart beating. He will be your heart. And you will do anything to make sure he keeps pumping blood to you. He will be the only thing giving you oxygen.

And I think that’s way worse.

Make no mistake, for as much as I write things from his perspective, I think it’s absolutely terrifying. Codependency to the most extreme, obsession at its peak. A study in just how far someone can go when they feel entitled to someone.

[anshiiiiin]

a quick sketchy comic!

nikolay checking his date's phone

[malacandrax]

Sex worker/Charity worker Halstarion AU [set late 70's/early 80's]

---

AU TAG

To read them in order:

[Part 1- Meeting]

[Part 2-Embellish]

[Part 3-Theory]

[Part 4- Number]

[Part 5- Bruise]

[Part 6- Scenic]

[Part 7- Nice Things]

[Part 8-Pizza]

[Part 9- Want]

[Part 10- Tuesday] That's this one!

Some edits to his scar- obviously now it's a tattoo instead. To make it make slightly more sense in this context it includes Cazadors name and a crown symbol often used by traffickers, and it shows above the collar as they often do. I don't think they'd often spend that much on a full back tattoo, but I suppose he is rich, and astarion is special. Not entirely sure it's tasteful of me to go so hard for a game AU, but in for a penny in for a pound.

[mint-8]

Platonic Yandere Show-Off!

Yandere Mother vs. Yandere Father x Child! GN! Reader

Content/Trigger warning: Mentions of death, torture, and pregnancy. Please read as completely platonic.

- United in an arranged marriage, neither Yandere Mother nor Yandere Father are particularly pleased with their current situation. Both are enraged due to their respective family's tradition of marrying into money and improving business respectively, and are already planning on how get to get rid of the other one so they can live a happy single life, preferably with all of the remaining assets from having their spouse die in 'mysterious' ways.

- Yandere Mother and Yandere Father are tasked with having at least 1 child so they can inherit the entire family business. Their gender doesn't matter. They need to make an heir. Yandere Mother is disgusted at the idea of having Yandere Father inside her, and so does he, but after avoiding the inevitable for a couple years, they finally spent one quick and uncomfortable night together to get it over with.

- While Yandere Mother is busy dealing with the pregnancy, Yandere Father makes sure to put aside enough money for his child's education, entertainment, health, and anything else they might need. Look, he might hate his wife, but he is not going to hate an innocent creature that had no choice to be born to such a horrible woman, he is going to do his best to raise his child right, but might leave most of the heavy duties to the mother. And speaking of, Yandere Mother is excited for having a child. It will be HER child and no one else's, and is very happy that her piece of shit of a husband is going to leave most of the kid's upbringing to her. She will make sure her baby grows with only the best of the best, and of course, only loving their mama! Your sperm donor will only appear for publicity reasons.

- Yandere Mother and Yandere Father who are surprised when your birth occurs a bit earlier than expected, but nevertheless rush your mother quickly to the best hospital in the country while your father waits outside of the operation room. Partially because it will look good for the press and partially because he doesn't want to be like your deadbeat grandfather who skipped his birth so he could drink with some investors. Yandere Father, at least, wants to be there for you. Meanwhile, Yandere Mother is screaming bloody murder in the other room. The pain is horrible. Even when the doctors gave her strong medications for the delivery, she still feels the first complications of motherhood. But even with all the difficulties, she bears through it all and gives birth to what will become of her and her husband's future adoration and obsession, you.

- The first to meet you is, of course, Yandere Mother, who held you as soon as the nurse's finished washing off all the blood and liquids, and who couldn't believe her eyes when she first saw you. Even when you were wet and crying after experiencing breathing for the first time, you still looked like the most adorable of little angels. Yandere Mother couldn't help but cry and weep from the incredible amount of love she felt in the moment, while a warm smile grazed her face, as she protectively held you, hearing your heart beat in unison with hers. She even refused to let the nurses and doctors check on you until she pretty much collapsed from the exhaustion of giving birth.

- Yandere Father meets you after the hospital staff gave him the clearing after running some tests. To say he fell in love is an understatement. This man fell to his knees when he first saw you at the maternity ward, peacefully sleeping with a soft blanket covering you. He couldn't help the tears that fell down his face, or the clear adoration in his eyes. He just... loves you much. His baby, his little angel. The adorable and cute baby in existence was right in front of him, and you were all his! He made you, after all! Oh, how excited he was to get you ot of here and buy you dozens of toys, and clothes and-

"They are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Like an angel..."

"If you hurt them in any way, I'll make sure to hire an assassin to torture you to death"

"I can say the same to you, dear"

- Yandere Mother and Yandere Father spoil you rotten through your childhood. Especially Yandere Father, who can't spend as much time with you as he would like because he has to take care of the family conglomerate, but always sends you hundreds of gifts your way, which are always meticulously chosen and discarded by Yandere Mother, who makes sure to spend every moment that you are awake by your side. She will make sure to raise you into the most innocent, polite, and kind little one in the entire world. She might love you with all her heart, and is more than willing to frame someone for a murder she committed if it came down to it, but she won't neglect you by letting you grow as you please! Oh, no! Proper etiquette classes and lectures about being responsible, respectful, and kind are very prevalent in your busy schedule and educational curriculum.

- Yandere Mother chooses homeschooling with only the best of the best private teachers and tutors to foment your growth! And no complaining or pressure from her extended family will change that! Yandere Father also supports this plan, with the added clause that you need to participate in extracurricular activities outside for your fortified home. Yandere Mother was going to cut your father from suggesting such dangerous activities to fragile, innocent you, but quickly changed her mind when he explained that he wishes to have photos and memorabilia of each and every one of your achievements, specifically those in which you absolutely crush the pathetic competition.

- Yandere Mother and Yandere Father attend every competition and event you compete or participate in, cheering you on from the audience and celebrating with grand parties and banquets for every success or failure. They love making everyone in the world know about their perfect little prodigy and are not shy in the slightest to prove it! Although, if you ever felt uncomfortable or annoyed by such displays of affections, no sweat! Yandere Mother and Yandere Father will completely understand and will keep your celebrations inside of their home, protecting your privacy if you so wish.

- Yandere Mother loves spending time with you to show her affection, being an active and involved parent in pretty much everything you do, always showing support, financial or emotional, for every single one of your hobbies and aspirations. She is also very touchy and cuddly, she specially loved to hold you close to her when you were a baby, giving you kisses and waking you up with more kisses and giggles. She loves to embarrass you with all the photos and loving memories she has of you!

- Yandere Father prefers to shower you in gifts and delicious treats whenever he is free. He especially loves going out to trips to your favorite mall or shops, lets you browse through the different sections, and buy everything your little heart desires. He tries his very best to be strict and teach you about the importance of money, but you give him your 'puppy eyes'™️ and he becomes weak once again. He also loves complimenting you and giving you praise whenever you succeed, as well as helpful tips and advice in the cases you lose or are in need of some support. He especially loves when you come to his home office or during meals and ask him anything and everything you might have in your mind. Your Yandere Father is very well educated after all (and so is your mother!) and is very eloquent when explaining topics and talking about how the world works. He has so many fond memories of little toddler you waddling to his office, asking silly questions and him calmly and sweetly responding as you fall asleep on his shoulder.

- Yandere Father and Yandere Mother loves you so much, little pumpkin. They know that you will grow to become an amazing person, but can't help but worry about others potentially hurting you! So, they make sure to background check anyone that you could possibly have an interest in (romantic or otherwise), to be 100% sure that they will appropriate companions for you. Very few people make the cut, with the many undeserving of your love and attention being quietly taken care of. Not necessarily in a brutal way, but Yandere Mother sure misses her time as queen bee of high-school when she would destroy the lives of those trying to take her down, and Yandere Father has such a vast collection of weapons that it would be a shame not to use them every once in a while!

- Yandere Mother loves you with all her heart and would do anything to protect your smile. Yandere Father loves you with the entirety of his soul and is more than willing to commit war crimes to protect your happiness. The two of them hate each other deeply for always keeping your attention off the other, but work surprisingly well in raising and taking care of you, so they toughened it up and simply focus on your safety and well being. They don't care who they have to hurt, kill, torture, or incriminate. They will do it and make sure you never find out. You are their adorable sweetness. You don't need to know about the atrocities in this world =)

"You are the absolute most, my little star. I love you ♡"

"I'll love you even if you kill me, dear. You will always be my little angel ♡"

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

YOU’RE AN ANGEL, I’M A DOG ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, like a dot of ink on paper, dripping with exhaustion; a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching beneath his ribs.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated, from satoru this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens. 

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor. 

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!” 

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else. 

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you yesterday, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 

(something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause. 

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance inside your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back, so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.