#polite yandere

[ilovespec]

• Yandere drug lord! who will fall in love with you at first sight, and immediately become obsessed with you.

• Yandere drug lord! who will constantly leave gifts for you in front your door. And a few months later, in your apartment. Wait, did someone hurt you? this person will disappear in a couple of hours. And it's not her fault at all, nonono..

• Yandere drug lord! Who put together a kind of "altar" from your stolen things. Elastic bands , fallen hair , a pair of panties .

• Yandere drug lord! Who will take care of you in all possible ways, and if you get into her house, you will never come out again. And it's not because you're handcuffed to the bed and you're going to be tortured every time you try to escape, but it's not going to happen, honestly.

• Yandere drug lord! Who's sad that she's not a man and can't get you pregnant...

Character's description

Character's story

[yanderenightmare]

TW: omegaverse, subjugation, second gender sexism

Stuck thinking about the politics in an omegaverse society.

Especially how unreal the victim blaming would be—how Omegas are more often than not blamed for making Alphas lose control.

"You're not taking the right suppressants. You're not wearing enough scent-blocker. You were practically parading around in heat—what did you expect?"

And most politicians are Alphas, so there's really no one speaking up for Omegas at all. Sooner than later, without much resistance, the world comes to agree that "Unmated Omegas are the problem!"

And the solutions? Arranged marriages and Systematic pairings, Omega institutions, Mating homes, AUCTIONS—to ensure all Omegas find an Alpha to mate. But it's all run by the rich—mostly middle-aged geezers who get to have their pick of the litter.

The propaganda has all Alphas convinced that they're all saviors offering Omegas salvation, which only spikes the occurrence of unwanted bonds. You can't be an Omega walking the streets without an Alpha escort because you'll be treated like prey—a free-for-all.

And instead of giving all Alphas shock collars to keep them in check, Omegas have to mate with an Alpha to keep themself safe from other Alphas—like nature intended.

Soon, the very concept of a free Omega becomes laughable. After all, pets don't want freedom. Pets want safety and comfort. Pets want masters. Anything less would be abusive to a poor Omega. They crave to be subjugated—they were made to be owned—freedom would only be cruelty to them.

♡ TWIST OF FATE

[itsabouttimex2]

What do you think would make Odysseus a yandere?

I think it would happen right after he drops Scamandrius from the walls of Troy.

That little baby, already so loved that he had inspired a nickname from his father, his people- “Astyanax”, detailing what he; as the firstborn son of Troy’s heir apparent, was set to become- king, ruler, overlord.

And Odysseus kills him.

Not because he wants to, but because he is, at the end of the day, just a man. A selfish man who loves himself and his soldiers and his home, but not nearly as much as he loves his son and his wife.

The only thing that breaks him from the harrowing thought that a like-minded man might be doing the same thing to his own son miles away is a broken wail cutting through somber silence.

Odysseus turns, feet heavier than his heart, hesitant to see not what, but who he already knows is behind him.

Andromache running towards him. He sees her, wrapped in loose white robes, arms held close to her chest, tears running down her face, closer and closer to him- barefoot and broken.

And realizes that she’s not coming at him, not coming for revenge or catharsis or some measure of score-settling, but instead she’s headed for the rim of the stone wall that her son was dropped from, intending to plunge the same misty heights and fade into the swallowing vale below.

She leaps in a blitz of white silk, looking so much like an angel descending that Odysseus nearly misses his chance to reach for her in a sort of awe- though her enthralling beauty pales in comparison to his Penelope, it spurs him to try and catch the grieving wife, mother, queen.

The Itchacan king reaches for her hands and snags a bundle of white instead, accidentally tearing it from her grasp and leaving her to plummet without whatever had been so dear that she would take it to the grave held against her heart.

And after the shock has worn off, after his soldiers have moved from wide-eyed gasping and into solemnly shaking their heads at the waste of good life, after Polites calls for him to please come down and come back to the ship, Odysseus takes a moment to unwrap that little bundle with a heavy heart.

Another child, even younger than the first, blissfully asleep in spite of the carnage and ruin around them.

This time, there’s no god or soothsayer or prophet to chime in his ear an order or command, leaving Odysseus on the edge of a very welcoming ledge, contemplating his decisions as the soldiers below grow anxious at the grief in their captain’s eyes.

Polites coaxes him down again, this time even more gently, so the king wraps you back up and heads for the stairs.

His second-in-command waits for him at the beach, having paid last respects to both Andromache and her beloved son, both wrapped in a tattered sail and covered in rocks to keep all but the most determined of predators away- he and his brothers-in-arms did what they could, and even now spill wine in the sand around them.

It’s not much, but they did their best. That’s all any man can do in this situation.

Eurylochus doesn’t like the haunted look in his captain’s eyes, how his fingers twitch around the bundle of cloth, how he can’t bear to look at the impromptu grave of two innocent souls.

Nobody does.

But the deed is done, the blood is spilled, and dawn breaks soon. There’s no time for questions, no time for further delays. Home is waiting.

Six hundred families are waiting for six hundred tired soldiers, hoping to welcome them with open arms and settle for boring times.

So there’s no hesitating or comprehending or deciding. The bundle doesn’t protest, and neither do his men. No one questions the impromptu addition to the crew.

A living reminder of all the children they orphaned, even if indirectly. Bringing you along is a form of penance that none confess to wanting.

Odysseus holds the infant close as he returns to the ship, wood creaking under the boots of soldiers boarding in lockstep, heavy as his conscience and heart.

…he’ll need to think of a name for you.

[threepandas]

Bad End: No Question

The republic fell slowly, then all at once. Rot building like a creeping cancer, in all the places the shining lights of luxury did not touch. Festering and untreated, all while I could do nothing to stop it. I knew it was coming, could see the story unfolding, yet? Was powerless to stop it.

No one listened.

Why would they? I was just a naive child, spouting nonsense. After all, they all said, they all believed... the Republic Was Forever.

Until it was not. Until it all died. And from the bleeding, screaming, ruin? The Empire came, swallowing everything whole. Right up to the end. While in my head, I knew how the story would unfold. Had tried and tried, to no avail, helpless and small as only children can be, as the tidal wave finally hit.

Believed, even as they lay dying. Even as I watch as the people cheer, as blood ran thick in the streets, clogging the gutters. The luxurites dead. Both guilty and innocent alike. The boot heels, upon the necks of the poor, no longer. Or so their leaders proclaimed...

Easy scapegoats. Obvious targets. The villians for their narrative, pay no mind to what happens next. The money and power, the land. We are HEROS! For the PEOPLE! You can TRUST US.

Ha.

Of course.

All hail the Emperor. Wealthier then any man has ever been. Truely, we are Free.

Yes, when the revolution came, I wasn't with them, my family. My "proper" social circles. That's probably all that spared me. I would have been hunted down, otherwise. Innocent or not. Can't have any of the old power bases lingering about, after all. People might get the idea to rally. Might miss the Old, when the New loses it's shine. Child or not, we can't have THAT, now can we?

The staff and volunteers of the soup kitchen, hid me with the other children as the adults boarded up the windows and doors. I held a young mother's child, looked her in the terrified eyes and swore, on my life, that I would gaurd her daughter with my life. I remember expecting to raise that child. To never see her again. Not alive.

Remember wondering, how far I could stretch the coin, if I pawned the pretty little bits of jewelry my parents gave me. Assuming they weren't ripped right off me, the second we got out. I had plans to hide them. Begun calculations. So many little mouths to feed. We had to stick together. We MUST stick together.

Then it was over.

My "disgrace" of an uncle came for me. Found me in the near ruins of my "silly little project". He was the one who had wanted to work. Had a stable worker lover everyone knew about but no one talked about. He was covered in bit of hay. Smelled strongly of horses. His lover had grabbed him and dragged him to safety, hidden him, desperately, among the stalls.

Out of our entire House...

An entire House, once noble, now wealthy. Out of HUNDREDS of people? Built over centuries, branches upon branches, marriages and adoptions. Wards and in-laws. Newborns to lovers to elders on their deathbeds? Of them all, so few remained. And yet... I could not even blame the servants who abandoned us. Who turned on their Slave Masters in all but technicality. They had been treated so cruely, for so long.

.....but the children? What crime did they commit?

I stood in the ruins of Manor after Manor, great house after great house, and wondered. Would I let this make me a monster too? Was this anger or grief I felt? Would any of us ever be free, from the sickening rot that had crept so slowly into the hearts of these people? Both, the ones I had called kin, and the very people who killed them. But oh... there were so many bodies to bury. So, so many bodies.

Some of them... so very, terribly, small.

But as we put out embers and buried the dead? The oh so glorious empire was rising. A fat and lumberous beast, settling with already groaning bones into the still smoking pit, where the Republic lay dead. And, benevolently, the Emperor saw no reason to kill us. We were informed by pristine letter, hand delivered, as we stood smoke stained and filthy, among the pyres.

At least... thank the gods. At least my Uncle remembered.

He and I, fellow outcasts and trouble makers, he recalled my "nonsense". How it had very much come true. So he took the Emperor's letter. Smiled benignly, with the bland promise of nothing. And gently corralled us few who remained into the only remaining dining hall, to pour over the letters as a House. A Clan. Together.

He looked to me with haunted eyes... and wanted to know.

I phrased it as a vision. It would be easier to swallow that way. Not unheard of, in legend. Not out of the realm of possibility. Just absurdly, absurdly rare. But... did we not live in world shaking times? It would make sense, it felt, that the gods would at least MENTION such things...

A novel, a lifetime ago. We were hardly the Protagonists. Not related in any way. Dramatics and death would surround them. A dark age followed, supposedly, by light. But... was the real world ever so simple? I didn't know. I could name all the players. What would occur.

It would be up to US to protect ourselves.

And we WOULD need to protect ourselves. For the Empire was not a kind place. Nor fair. It was the rot of the Republic laid bare. Without pretense. And soon... the purges would begin.

I was, of course, right. The people's blood soaked victory soon gave way to dismay, as they became targets. Divided. Conquered. Inquisitors, hand chosen by his most graciousness, the Emperor himself. I held my tounge, kept my piece... and hated it. Undermined what I could. Rebuilt my soup kitchen.

Attended court.

Because, of course, all we loyal subjects MUST attend court. Don't we love our Emperor so? See how we fawn! We simper and bask in his greatness! Oh we hang on your every WORD, most royal Majesty! We are entranced! Loyal, loyal subjects, all. Such decadent parties as the people starve.

Didn't my family perish for such similar actions? But, ah, they deserved it. Of course. And THIS is for MORALE!

I sip wine looted from the Redcrest family's cellars. They were dead now. Were proud of their wines. They made them for centuries. There shall never be more bottles, yet frivolous, we drink them away. What crime did they commit? Their workers? I close my eyes and keep my smile fixed.

A pleasant expression, because everything is Fine. Remember who you fight for, survive for, you are the canary in the mine. If you go silent, they know to run. The longer you live, the more people you can help, you can do this. Remember... sometimes rebellion is refusing to die. Refusing to let them pull hope from your desperate, bleeding, claws.

Just smile.

Everything is Fine! See? We're Smiling!

"Such a lonely seat. Not going to dance? Mingle? One might think you're not having fun." Comes from behind me, the voice an almost silibant rasp, rumbling thunder and the whispered hiss of a blade. If ever there was a voice made for threats and the confession of terrible things, it was this. "But how could that be? Such a loyal servant of his Majesty would never be so divisive and disrespectful. You must surely be ill. So, tell me then, your excuse?"

The only reason I do not jump, and splash on more reminder of tragedy right down my front, in a display I can not afford, is that I freeze up. Jumping would look guilty of something. It would not matter that he walks all but silently. That I did not notice him and was startled. That it is a simple, human, reaction. Why am I so JUMPY? Guilty conscious? Perhaps an Inquisitor and I should... Talk.

And dropping my wine? Making a SCENE? Am I seeking to undermine his Majesty?

That's ON TOP of the fact, that... frankly? My House can not AFFORD to replace a wine stained dress. With his Majesty's demands for constant decadence yet performative humility, his hoarding of wealth and demands of tribute? We are barely scrapping by. Most "graciously spared" survivors are.

Not ALLOWED to become lower class. Disappear into the masses and work or live quiet, modest lives. No. We must PROVE our LOYALTY to his Majesty. Constantly. Forever. Right up until we fail and are punished for it. In a sick game, no one can ever hope to win but him.

We are to continue on, as though he did not burn the world down. Yet in revamped parody of what was. Like a social outcast, holding towns hostage, to play out "high school prom" as the MOST popular kid, forever and ever and always more. Or ELSE. Because he never grew up and never got over it. Because people didn't like him. So he'll MAKE them. Kill them if they refuse.

The fifteenth version of this dress. Lace carefully taken off and redone elsewhere, I cycle through "new dresses" and trade with allies who are about my size. Who could possibly afford to meet the man's mad demands? When we are barely feeding are own? When he has seized our assets yet will not let us work?

We are dying.

Painted in what inherited gold, silks, and jewels remain. Terrified. We are dying.

"Nothing to say? How quiet. One might think you are... afraid. But how could that be? You would know, as a loyal servant of his Majesty, that you have nothing to fear from us. No Inquisitor would harm one of the loyal subjects, of our beloved ruler. You are perfectly safe... that is, of course, assuming... you are, in fact, Loyal."

The near shifting of heavy cloth against heavy cloth, the sigh as it slid against armor, markes a deadly presence behind me. Light, almost silent, steps are nearly lost under the music, as he moves. Circling me like a hunter. I force myself to turn towards him instead of shying away. Claw control back of my instinct frozen limbs, with desperate hands. I cannot, CANNOT afford this.

"Ah, but you are sick. Headache, perhaps? The drink too strong?"

Red eyes bore into me from a silver mask. Infamous claws, on hands that have done so much, are tucked behind his back like gentleman, out on a stroll. Bone white robes, over armored black under robes. Monochromatic, blood red, and silver steel.

The Grand Inquisitor.

"Perhaps you've tired yourself. With all that dancing you did not do. So many questions. So few answers. But then, ah, I've been speaking so rudely, my dear. Talking over you. How has your evening been, hmm? Pleasant, I take it?" His voice was as light and almost charming, as a gentle hand; wrapped delicately around the throat. Not squeezing, not yet, just a simple remind that it could. If he did not like, what you had or were about to say. "Come, sit, I insist."

The smile on my face felt like it was a dam under pressure. Like my teeth could only barely held back the screaming in my head. The mask of my expression, covered in hair line fractures, only just holding together as I nodded. Followed along. Hysterical comparisons to the march before firing squads, danced in the back of my head. I shoved them back. Down and far away. I... I had to be present. Alert.

The chandelier's light caught with terrible beauty, on the brutal points of his claws. As he gestured, almost a mockery of the polite gentleman. He would be one, if not for the unspeakable things he had done. He was certainly polite. His etiquette immaculate.

Social dances. A mockery of comfort. Mock, mock, mock. His mere presence, his brutality, desecrated it all. Made profane the familiar. For who? WHO? Could break bread with the butcher of men? Could smile politely and serve them thoughtful bits of nothing? Treat them as your own? Yet... yet we were all to afraid to resist. To refuse.

Did they delight? Forcing us to welcome them, where they clearly were not wanted? Where we could not refuse them? Perverting the purpose of our traditions and our ways? Was... was it funny? Or just another tool to use against us?

Smile, dip your head, a small curtsy or bow. The guest invited sits first, serve drinks, time appropriate food if you have it. In my head I knew each step. The etiquette of the classes and why each was the way it was. He did not reach for the pitcher on the table. Merely settled back into his chair, like a throne.

Was he deliberately breaking the social norm? To create discomfort and pressure me to talk? Did he not know? His past was shrouded in mystery. Perhaps he simply did not feel like it. Who, here, could insist? Shun him for his rudeness?

I tried not to sweat, under his heavy gaze. Did not partake. Sat, back straight, my gentle mask-like smile fixed, as I stared over his shoulder. A pretty doll. Ragged and worn around the edges. Trying desperately to appear The Good And Loyal Citizen, least something... Unfortunate, happen.

"What a lovely dress." He mused into the tense silence, breaking it to brutal shards. "Yet, I can not help but notice the shade. The cut and design. Madame Signe's work, isn't it? It suits you." Everything inside me went cold. It was. But if he recognized it...

"Yet? I can not help but wonder, my dear. Why the lace is in the wrong place? You wouldn't happen to be trying to pass off that dress as something new, would you? Trying to subvert and undermine his Majesty's very clear command? That would be treasonous. And you, such a loyal subject, would never."

He knew.

I didn't know how much he knew, but he DID.

Struggling not to shake, not to give everything away, I lied. Of course, I did. Right through my teeth. I would, I had, and I promised. Straight to the end. Lie and lie, until I had nothing left in me. I know nothing, I know no one, there is nothing here to find. Lies upon lies, all while those I love flee for their lives. Praying to gods I don't think can even hear me, that it will be enough.

The slight tilt of his head somehow projected a sense of mocking indulgence. One long leg crossed the other, lounging like a warlord. The clawed gauntlets on full, gruesome display. Every part of him, from the set of his shoulders to the angle he sat, radiated amusement. As though he were watching a silly little child, playing foolish little games. Getting into mischief, then trying to hide the obvious evidence.

Was I quite done? His silence seem to say. He can wait.

I tilted my chin up with a strength and defiance I did not feel. Yes, I was done. Let come what may. I... I tried.

"So afraid, dear citizen. Acting as though I'm some sort of monster in the night, out to butcher and hunt the innocent. One might get the wrong impression. You might even hurt my feelings." He laughs, a sound that seems to roll and fall dangerously, past grinning teeth. Sharp and deadly. "But of course... I understand, I do. About your dress. You can not help it."

"After all, you have not changed a bit."

....what?

"Still compelled, against all rhyme and reason, to tend to the wretched under classes. The filth and wastrels. Beggars and whores. Instead of purchasing dresses for parties? You, oh loyal Citizen, are of course, exemplifying his Majesty's great Mercy."

That's not what... He KNOWS it's not... Where is he GOING with this?

"Yes, we must make exceptions, perhaps. Have mercy. After all... you had nothing but the best of intentions. And how can I hold that against you? When you can not help what you are? Soft and foolish. So very merciful and giving. Humane."

He dropped the word like it was a joke. Almost snide, laughter haunting the edges of it like a pack of hunting hounds. As though humanity to others, itself, was laughable. What a joke, he seemed to suggest, the mere concept of mercy. Of compassion for the sake of it.

So, why? What game was he playing? If he had to mercy to give me? Why even suggest...?

"Do you remember, the Revolution? That glorious rise, as the old fell away. As shackles were broken. As class lines no longer bound us. As we, both children, sat in the dark?"

Impossible.

No... no it... please, God, it can't....

The music was very far away. Muted, as though through blankets. Conversations becoming indistinct. Memories of stale air and dust. Packed earth beneath me and cold stone pressing against my back. The terrible, uncertain creek, of cheap woods from both the crates and ceiling above us. Everything that COULD be stacked against the doors, was.

Wondering if we would survive fire. If they, in their anger and hate, would think of it. Oh god, oh god, we were just kids-!

White hair, like bone, forever silent and staring. Never came close but showed up every time I did, they noted. A crush. Local boy, they mused. He was too thin. Bruises where there shouldn't be. Scars on skin too young. He didn't run when I went to him, but never came to me. I tried to feed him. Just one more story. So many tragedies, that I could do so little to change. All I had was soup.

"Ah~ there it is. You recognize me now. It's been so long, hasn't it, my dear?" Something pleased and horrifying, curled like spreading poison through his tone. "I am a man, grown, now. Have become quite accomplished, if I do say so myself. Wealthy, influential, well connected. Powerful. No longer weak and unworthy of your time."

"In fact," He leaned forward, as though telling a secret. Almost playful, despite the horror of his words. "It's my turn to control you. To be the powerful one. To have everything while you have nothing."

"I will admit... I have been waiting for this for a very long time. You were so beautiful. Trapped in you wretched blood bought finery, chained to the House that would keep us apart. I knew even then, that I would have you, that I was the ONLY one that could be allowed to have you. No one else. And oh, his Majesty has been so very, very obliging."

Folded papers were withdrawn from his robes. Offered almost carelessly. If it weren't for the intensity of his stare? I would believe he didn't care, how I reacted. With shaking hands. I smooth the pages as I open it. From the desk of the Emperor himself... a... a marriage contract.

"Exactly as I wanted. You'll never escape me again. Smile, my dear."

"We're getting married."

[adonisbeloveds]

have a request if you don't mind, so I was thinking platonic yandere rainbow factory Wally with a reader who's his assistant and they basically just try to keep their head down and do their work avoiding having any conversation with him when they can due to them being afraid of him

Yandere RF Wally with assistant reader

-Reader: They/them + no gender implied -He/him for RF Wally

Requested: No/Yes

Warnings: Slight stalking? Disclamer: Characters personality, looks, ect may be different from canon due to either hc or author has just forgotten.

A/N: I AM SO SO SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG (╥﹏╥) I have the worst writers block ever ❤（っ＾▿＾）I hope you like it tho!

^ Made by me

-🌈When Wally first met you, he didn't think much of you except that you where his assistant, at first he just thought that you where shy and intoverted but than he started to notice how you strangely talked to others just fine. -🌈Wally started to notice every little thing you did with others and not him, the way you actually talked to others and not just nod and leave, the way you laughed when others talked, the way you smiled at others, he watched all of it and it slowly started to annoy him. -🌈After noticing all of the little things he tried to talk with you more but you always seemed to push him away when it wasn't work related, that was what started to annoy him more, he's trying his best to make you comfortable with him! but why won't you accept it?

You always dreaded going to Wallys office, you don't know why but you always got bad vibes from him therefore you trying to keep your distance from him.

You knocked on the door before opening it and walking in, keeping your head slightly slanted, enough to be able to see where you where going but still not being able to look at his eyes, but even then you could feel his eyes staring at your every movement. Quickly placing the papers on his desk you nodded in respect before making your way to the door.

"Stay"

You didn't want to, by gods you didn't want to but he was your boss and it was work hours, you turned around and waited for him to talk "why do you treat me so different? You don't even look at me, at first I thought you where shy but you act so different infront of others than me, why?" every bone in your body told you to run, but you knew you couldn't even if you tried.

You knew what he was capable of, thats why he owns this business.

[nana2009]

Can you draw dave and karkat just cuddling like normal people

Like can they have a normal experience please

Pretty please

Just cuddling like a normal couple 💔

unfortunately i cannot

this is the normalest they can get

[lorelune]

jing yuan would be such a particular flavor of yandere, he really would stack every card against you. he'd destabilize you from a distance. some horrible circumstantial loss of your home, job, a hemorrhaging of a social circle you relied on. it is easier to pick up a stray when its both friendly and hungry.

jing yuan waits to swoop into your life. he orchestrates a number of interviews that fail, stressful night's out which end with you flinching at every shadow you see. once you're frayed and losing hope? then he will offer a hand. barely. he's the general, only what he could write off as proper. perhaps an afternoon cup of tea? he does like to know about the wellbeing of the denizens of the luofu. he has a garden he keeps, full of fat sparrows, he'd be happy to show you if you have time.

it's comfort he means to provide. he has stripped you of what little you had before. what remains is all fragments, hardly there, but good building blocks for what he'd like you to be. jing yuan knows this is cruel. he knows the game he is playing is at your expense, and he does not lie to himself about this fact.

jing yuan does hope, however, that perhaps you will be more content under his thumb. not as a card in his hand, a piece on a board, but a lover at his side when circumstance has left him alone and old. he thinks you'll like it, maybe. that you could if you only trusted him and never thought to hard about the events that led you to be perched so close to him, ensnared.

[bunnyburr0w]

By god, all of you are dogs

[threepandas]

Bad End: Cold War

The receiving room was beautifully furnished. Neither overly ostentatious nor fussy in design. But it had a... coldness to it. This entire god forsaken building was, artfully hidden fireplaces be damned.

And it wasn't just the temperature.

The North may be a cold place, but the people there had always been a hardy one. Kind, if stoic. Not the sort for empty words and flamboyant gestures. So to see a building like this? One so very, very COLD? It spoke of something rotten. Something gone terribly wrong and far beyond control, hidden away out in the countryside where no one could stop it in time.

And it had.

And it DID.

And oh, how we SUFFERED for it, didn't we?

I didn't understand what went wrong. I knew, KNEW, because I was no fool, that the Story would change. Since I was remove a load bearing antagonist, how could it NOT? But... well, I did not wish to die. Certainly not for some other girl's love story. I refused to suffer. To be humiliated. To lead a life of pain and degradation. Just so she might frolic about with men, only to ultimately end up on the throne.

She would either have to find her way to greatness on her own merit, or settle of mediocrity. But it would NOT be built upon the back of my suffering. I gracefully bowed out. Took leave of the stage. And? Comported myself as befit a daughter of my house.

They were not... the most open. In fact, they struggled to connect. To offer or even receive comforts of any kind. But my family LOVED with a fierceness that would lead armies and burn nations. We were ABSOLUTE. And we? Stand TOGETHER. Always.

I would never forget. No matter how many days pass by. WHO I first saw when I opened my eyes. Clustered around my tiny form, rumbled and undignified in a way I would never see them again, with eyes that shone with such RELIEF. I never saw my mother's make run like that again. I half believe she hopes I do not remember.

But I DO.

And I always will.

In the Story, my character was a terror. Haughty and cruel. Sadistic. A wealthy brat that played God right up until all her sins came due. She drove a great deal of the early plot. I? Did none of those things. I threw myself into being a good daughter and a shining reflection upon the parents I loved.

I took my etiquette lessons seriously, to the delight of my teachers. My school work was promptly finished and followed by clarifying questions, to the joy of my tutors. I was polite to my peers. Overlooked their embarrassing early fumbles and mistakes. Helped them navigate social disasters with dignity. Promised nothing yet remained approachable.

My prospects had been ABYSMAL in the Story. It was part of the Narrative's punishment, I think. Though in hindsight, it is an ugly thing to do. A wonder I ever found such a story interesting enough to read. I imagine, it is the difference between tales and lived events? Nonetheless. My father was FLOODED with letters.

My poor mother absolutely HARRASED. Not an outing could go by, without SOMEONE mentioning their DEAR, SWEET son or nephew. To maintain proper appearances and neutrality, I was forced to attend more party's and events then I EVER wished to see.

I felt like a slab of meat up for auction. A show pony. But I also knew it was temporary. That I need only keep an eye out for a good, respectful man. Listen to the rumor mills. Discreetly bribe a few servants for information that "everyone knew". It was, after all, the way of things.

Should have been, the way of things.

But trouble started. Strange infighting, that started between boys and escalated to entire households. Tense, unspoken, lines dividing garden parties that only the day before were amicable. The Protagonist and her Harem of powerful players? Were BLIND to it.

Two of them were PRINCE for God sake! How had they been RAISED, that they could not feel the sudden shift in the socio-political landscape of their Father's court? He certainly could. And it clearly unnerved him. Yet? The Harem, each son's, each HEIRS, of some powerful position? Seemed both blind and deaf to all but the painfully obvious.

And even THAT? Was apparently unconnected to each other in their empty little minds. Had they nothing but flowers and glitter between their ears? One had to assume.

People were... accidentally forgotten. When invitations were sent. Then deliberately. Then OPENLY. Then? They were SNUBBED. Events deliberately scheduled on the same day, at the same time, as another. So all of polite society would have to CHOOSE. It was escalation.

And if it had been on or two houses? It would have been scandalous. Depending on the house, perhaps even worrying. A handful of houses? The king might have tried to get involved. Forcefully mediate. But it... it was somehow so much WORSE. Was EVERYWHERE.

Like someone had carefully examined the entirety of the Court for fault lines, then SWUNG. Some silent, careful, machination that left everyone at everyone's throat. Divided. Weak.

Easy to manipulate and control.

I could not for the life of me find the source of it all. My social season becoming swiftly more and more dangerous. Politically charged. People pushing and PUSHING for alliances I could not and WOULD NOT give without consulting my family. The capital was no longer safe. So... I quietly left.

Letters of vague excuse. Family matters, cousin so-n-so in their time of need, I'm sure you understand. Too late to stop me and under the cover of darkness.

It... I tell myself it is not my fault. That it would have happened either way. That I could not have known. But... but guilt is a heavy thing. It sits like lead in your gut. Like chains around your soul. They were waiting, I think. More, I suspect. Because...

Because the capital all but EXPLODED.

The carnage was IMMEDIATE. Not even a full day later, at a hunting party, the heir to one house shot the second son to another.

He did not survive.

The powder keg finally sparked and it all went up in flames. Alliances that had stood for centuries, shattered. Brother turned against brother. A wedding turned into a bloodbath, as the bride turned on both her family AND the groom, escaped into the night. Fights broke out everywhere.

The festering tension that had gone for so long unspoken? Could no longer be ignored. Would not, be ignored. The king was helpless to stop it all. The gaurd could only do so much. The fluffy, happy, empty headed little world of comfort the Protagonist knew? Was shredded to pieces.

It became starkly clear that the royal family... couldn't handle it.

That their heirs were... Weak.

Captain of the Gaurd, the Prime Minister, even the King's strongest supporter, the Duke of the East, ALL of them had... weak and ineffectual heirs. One or two could be a failing of parentage, but all together? They had let someone sabotage their sons. Make them puppets to be used and discarded at convenience.

The natural suspicion, of course, fell to the one most benefiting from said son's empty headedness. Much to the Harem's horror. No! Not their beloved shared girlfriend! That the world was burning around them? Of no consequence. But upsetting their darling little mouse? Unforgivable!

It was an act of true, genuine, paternal love; that those fools were banished by the king. They would have been killed horribly had they remained.

My family and I? Retreated to our lands. We had enough to survive. Our House and our People came first. We sent no messages, we received none. I practiced my frankly terrible embroidery. My maids gently CORRECTED my frankly terrible embroidery. The country BURNED.

Powerful people were picked off, one by one.

And wouldn't you know it? A new star was rising from the chaos. A voice of reason. Charismatic. Driven. Handsome and powerful, with the bloodline to match. Conveniently allied already to all those people who had replaced the Old Guard in government! How very serendipitous. That those positions should just... open up, like that. That he just HAPPEN to have such qualified people at the ready.

What ARE the odds?

My House knew our monster know. We watched. Careful. As he smiled and smiled. One hand open in welcome, the other? Holding a knife, hidden just out of sight. The king saw him for what he was. And the monster saw a worthy foe in the king. They were, after all, both very Dangerous men.

It was likely swordsmen duel.

Deadly steel clashing, shining, swift as it dances, from attack to defend to attack again. Experience versus youth. Power against power. The king was an old dragon, stood against a tiger come to see him dead. And though the dance was breathtaking? In the end... the dragon was old. Tired. And not the man he had once been.

The tiger won.

The king died in his sleep. Of... natural causes. No one believed it. No one dared say otherwise. The crown princess ascended the throne. She had played the game well. Taken after her Father. Been neglected in favor of her idiot brothers. In the Story, she was to be married off. A side character never to be heard from again.

It seems she was not content with such a fate.

Now she was Queen.

My family and I applauded. Polite. I hoped it marked the end of the strangeness. So many had died. So much had changed. Surely... surely it was over, wasn't it? But then? In the cold light of the early morning hours? A letter. Pristine and on a fine paper. Sat like a viper upon the table before us. A bomb.

My Father had stared at it, over steepled hands, like if he glared long enough? It would simply catch fire and burn away. The Monster's crest. Pressed lovingly into the wax. What... what did That Man want with us?

I watched him grit him teeth. Run his letter opener through paper like he was imagining jerking it across flesh, slitting the bastards throat for DARING to threaten his family. I held my mother's hand as he read. Watched his grip on the pages go white knuckled.

He didn't even tell a servant to burn it.

He slammed his chair back, in a terrible fury, and marched straight to the nearest fireplace to consign the letter to the flames. Over his dead body. Was his announcement. I... I had a terrible feeling it might be, whatever was on those pages.

The letters kept coming.

My Father burned them all.

Then? Trouble started.

And I did not need to see history twice, to know how it would end. I got up early. Waited near the damn GATES. My Father could not burn the letter before I read it, if I was there first. It... it was a marriage proposal. I... I did not understand. Why? For what POSSIBLE reason would he...?

It did not matter though, ultimately. I would be saying yes.

For my family? Anything.

And so I packed. My Father knew he couldn't stop me. I was entirely too much his daughter. It was why he had burned the letters. I was doing exactly what he would have done. He vowed to kill him. Slowly. Held me a swore. He would make me the loviest widow to ever live. My Mother promised to go look up family recipes for poisons. For rats, of course.

I loved them so, so much.

I LOVE them even now.

It is why I sit, back straight, fragrant tea untouched, in this cold but beautiful receiving room. I wear my best dress. The one that makes me look coldly beautiful. Elegant but untouchable. I feel like a winter spirit in it. Something made of ice and bone. I wear it when I want to feel stronger. I don't know if it's helping.

If I hold myself still. Count my breathing and do not think. I can almost... ALMOST? Slip into a trance, I think. Let my mind unfocus. They are keeping me waiting. It's a power play. So be it. You will find me unaffected. Bored even, by your petty displays. I stare peacefully into nothing. A statue in a silent room.

I hope I fucking unnerve them.

Confident footsteps. How quite has it become, that I can hear them, even through the door? I do not turn my head. Note absent-mindedly that the tea before me has long grown cold. This whole damn place is cold. I dispise it. The door is opened for the master of this house. I pointedly do not greet him.

"Aaah~, So COLD" He sing song's, almost chiding, it'd be nearly playful if not for the hint of something darker threaded through his voice. He has an almost victorious little bounce to his step as he approaches. "But then again, I already knew that, didn't I? Frigid, untouchable, and unfeeling~ Now? Now you're MINE~"

He laughs. There is something half disbelieving, half euphoric in the noise. Like he's finally gotten everything he's ever wanted and doesn't know what to DO with himself. He invades my space. Looms. Eyes a touch too wide as he stares. Drinking in the sight of me sitting before him, like he can't believe it's real.

"Do you know, snowdrop? How long it TOOK? What I had to DO to achieve this? Ha ha!" The grin that spills across his feature is unhinged. All I can do is sit, tense and frozen before a madman, as he speaks. "The WHINING, the COMPLAINING, the 'what about meeeee'~! They never shut UP! Wretched and pathetic to the last, they panted after you like DOGS."

Hands slid from his pockets, to come to rest on either side of me on the arm rests, bracing and caging me in. Trapping me as he leaned down. Entirely too close. He smelled like winter air, sharp but clean. His eyes were a blue grey so hauntingly pale, they seemed to bore straight into the soul.

"But they were so GREEDY. So DESPERATE for power. It was EASY, to play them like fools against each other. Make them DANCE. And worth it. Because I get what I wanted~ The brat get her silly little throne, and you?" His grin was all teeth. One hand coming up to rest on my head. "Now you can NEVER escape me."

The hand slid, slow and fingers splayed, downwards. Possessive as each finger brushed, stroked, the side of my face. My jaw. My neck. His eyes following it down with something that could only be blatant lust. His grip tightened around my neck. Not enough to choke. Just, it seemed, to prove to himself that he COULD.

His thumb rest again my pulse, facinated.

Sliding back up to cup my chin, gently forcing my head up, so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. His eyes were dilated. I glared.

"I am going to RUIN you." He whispered, sounding entirely too reverent. As though it were some act of worship he had planned. "Take you apart at the seams. Pretty, pretty little thing. Mine, all mine~"

"I saw you first, you know. You couldn't even be bothered to look at me. I tried all night. That's when I KNEW. I was going to hunt you down. MAKE you mine. Marry you and destroy anyone and anything that stood in my way. And I DID~♡"

"I'm going to have each and every part of you, Darling. Love you and love you until you can't HELP but love me back. We are going to be BEAUTIFUL together. You don't have a choice~♡"

[angelofthenight]

“You could live a hundred lifetimes…”

“And never deserve that person”

My own little take on the trend on TikTok rn with the yanderes I’ve written for to remind you all to please never, even tho they’re fictional, settle for guys like them irl. Please know you’re worth so much more than what people give to you and that your safety and happiness are the most important things in the world.

Never, EVER, let a boy make you think you owe them your love and praise and devotion. That is something that is earned with selfless dedication on their part.

And never let them make you think that it is your job to fix them. You are not their therapist and not their parent. And please remember to never be afraid to leave at the first or second red flag. It is never selfish to have your own safety as your best interest, it is never selfish to have boundaries.

Happy Holidays my beloved pookie’s🥰💖

[suusoh]

Johan seems like he'd have the time of his fucking life testing his loved one's boundaries, but what would be *his* own personal boundaries?

He is nonnie. exactly. He is living the best life like there is no loss for him.

I'm on the assumption that we're still on the sexual boundaries here as those are what my recent posts were referring too. Hcs below the cut! nsfw of course.

Pre-rurenheim:

I actually think pre-rurenheim johan has less boundaries.

He's not in touch with his attraction yet and still has that "monster" subconscious in him, he doesn't get hard. So even if you try to get back at him, he'll just find it amusing.

you brush against his stuff, and he just quirks an eyebrow up at you. pats your head for the good try.

He'll even allow you to get all touchy with him though. Like have fun trying to get a rise out of him. (Think that scene when he was in the red light district and that one prostitute held onto his arm and he just continued asking for directions unbothered lol.) He wants to see your attempts even if it's futile.

Another thing that comes to my mind is that you will not be seeing his dick in a long time. That will be kept zipped up in his pants. He gets to play with you but you will not be playing with him in a sense.

It's a power play sure, but also I think johan really.... doesn't care about his pleasure. He doesn't feel pleasure. He feels nothing. Seeing you squirm and shake (either from fear or pleasure) is enough gratification for him.

But also vulnerability. That's literally his private part. He's not gonna let himself be emotionally vulnerable and literally phsyically vulnerable... he knows that if you REALLY don't like him (unwilling reader scenario) you'll have no qualms with using his, ehem, his anatomical parts against him. He may be emotionally numb but he knows damn well his numbness won't save the pain of whatever you choose to do to him down there out of your spite.

Post-rurenheim:

Has more boundaries because he's human and has a sense of personal identity yay!

PLEASE do not be all touchy and brush against him he will bust a nut since he really really likes you 💀

Like he is fighting for his life because he never learned how to deal with a boner before. Not even during his puberty.

you STILL won't be seeing his dick in a long time. He literally just doesn't care about his pleasure, only focusing on yours. It's almost funny how it ironically comes off as altruism.

But it's because he still hasn't gotten that sense of "his" pleasure yet. He still hasn't allowed himself to accept the fact that he's more human now and that comes with all the little quirks of it too.

Also because I think he doesn't quite enjoy of it if it's solely his pleasure? his pleasure is directly and irreversibly linked with yours. your pleasure is already his. If he gets his dick touched that's just a cherry on top. Seeing you in pleasure is honestly already the main event for him.

hi can you tell I'm making him a pure service top okay bye.

Not that he won't appreciate the gesture of course. He'll appreciate you greatly for it. Loves that you care about him too.

[yanderefarm]

finally got time to read Philip's story properly and somehow my first questions are about lore:

would his darling be qualify for approved friends for emil's darling?

do they receive subsidies from emil for fighting monsters?

-pretty anon

you're playing minecraft...on tablet?

yeah phillips darling does meet the criteria for friendship with emil's darling. mostly because of phillip's presence. otherwise a young single duke would not qualify. i think mostly emil's approved friend group for you is like mostly old married noblewomen, young madly in love noblewomen, and other such people who are either taken or uninterested in relationships and are also respected members of society.

i don't know if he provides any financial assistance but I think he would provide knights. you probably have agreements with blacksmiths guilds to provide armor and weaponry. and your territory makes their money off monster parts and magic items with essentially a monopoly in that field. there's more monster territory to the south of the kingdom but because of their climate they profit more from food and instead provide things like food and animal products to the north in exchange for knights protection. knights that work for your territory are the strongest in the world so even if there was a shortage of monster parts coming in the knights can simply sell their services to other regions for extra money. so you just take the best from emil's knight academy in the center of the kingdom because you can handle the rest.

i play Minecraft on my switch. that's how I play fortnite too. i bought some mods for Minecraft bedrock and now it keeps crashing but i can make pears.

[adonisbeloveds]

Do you accept orders from Yandere wally? If yes, you could do wally with the reader, where the reader rejects wally's dating request. The reader only sees Wally as a friend, and the reader is also determined to get out of Welcome Home and back into his real world.

Yandere Wally Darling with a male reader

-Reader: He/him + Masc implied -He/him for Wally

Requested: No/Yes

Warnings: General yandere stuff, kidnapping, angst, one swear word Disclamer: Characters personality, looks, ect may be different from canon due to either hc or author has just forgotten.

A/N: I LOVE yandere Wally! As soon as I saw this request I was just so happy and ready to write it! Its also platonic bc I can't write romance and feel kinda uncomfy doing so yeah I hope thast okay. Also! on the Welcome Home with a child whos like nanno/tomie I changed Julie and Sallys pronouns as soon as I found out their canon genders! After writing notes: omg I had SO much fun writing this thank you so much for requesting this! Yandere Wally is my 2nd/3rd fav (tied with OG Wally) and RF Wally is my fav so if anyone wants to request RF Wally i'll be waiting >:)

^ Made by me

-🍎🔪 One moment you were just watching Welcome Home and the next you where in Welcome Home, now just like any sane person you started to freak out when all of a sudden you heard a familiar voice. -🍎🔪 You quickly turned around to see the short, blue spiral haired puppet staring at you with the biggest smile on his face, he offered you his hand and somehow pulled you up from the ground and intruduced himself as Wally Darling, even though you knew that you played along. -🍎🔪 After Wally intruduced you to all the neighbours and Home he brought you inside Home saying that you can stay with him and Home while they your.....house....would be getting built..... -🍎🔪 Lets just say even though you loved Welcome Home you did not want to stay here forever I mean, you have a family! a life! but right now you have no idea of getting back home so you just agreed to stay with Wally until your house gets built. A lot of time went past, you stayed with Wally even though you were meant to have a house but you never questioned that, your main focus was getting out of this place but that was way harder than you thought, with Wally never leaving your side and always seeming to be staring at you until one day. You were just sitting inside Home on the couch when wally came up to you smiling with a small tint of blush? you smiled at him "hey Wally! whats up?" he looked up and smiled at you "hello neighbour! I have something to tell you" you looked confused while staring down at him and nodded telling him to continue "well neighbour, I have had this growing feeling ever sense we met! and I just wanted to say, I love you and I want you to be my boyfriend" you froze, confused and concerned I mean, you never saw Wally in a romantic way and was never one for romantic relationships, you swallowed and sighed looking down at him "i'm really sorry Wally but I don't see you in a romantic way, I also never wanted to be in a romantic relationship" you said feeling guilty at the hurt look on his face but it soon turned happy "oh! thats okay dear! we can be in a platonic relationship" you shook your head and started to get up "neighbour? were are you going?" Wallys panicked voice asked "I'm sorry Wally but I need to find a way to leave" After you said the word leave everything went silent, than "leave? leave?! no no no no neighbour! darling! you can't leave! your meant to stay here with me! with Home! with everyone! what do you mean leave?!" Wally erupted into panic and anger, why would you leave him? wasn't he nice enough? good enough? no....no you were NOT leaving him "Home....lock the door" you froze as the door slammed shut, as soon as the shock left you ran to the door and tried to open it but it didn't budge "Home? Home open the door please....Wally what the fuck is going on" you screamed turning around to see him infront of you, you backed up as far as you could from him "darling please, I can't let you leave me, i'm sorry for this darling, I hope you could forgive me" Wally smiled while staring at you when everything went black. You slowly woke up confused when you remembered what just happened, you tried to more but your arms were tied down with black vines? you didn't know what they were but at that moment you didn't care, all you cared about was leaving this place and running as far as you could from this neighbourhood. But than you heard him "your awake! I hope Home didn't hit you too hard on the head dear! but its okay now, your here with me forever."

[lychniis]

I honestly cannot emphasize how censorship can spiral out of control real fast. A single post calling sometjing out can just...turn into a mindfuck and you can't really talk about it. Idk. If you know, you know.

[im2tired4usernames]

Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die

[phantom-wisp]

Needy, clingy, shy, sweet, polite girls>>>>>>>>

Is this weird?