#toxic darlings

[cowchickenbeefpork]

the show should have leaned more to both oswald and edward leaning into abusing substances in order to cope with their falling out. just sayin

[2-dsimp]

Sneezes aggressively

Therapist who fucks reader after manipulating them(I need like something with a therapist and smut PLS)

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Cw: NSFW MDNI bimbo fem reader! Oral m! Receive, hypnotism, manipulation, unhealthy relationship dynamic, abuse of authority, slight degradation

Synopsis: You were struggling on keeping yourself together. Having no way to hire the best of the so called best to help out with your deteriorating doormat mindset. You found an a lifeline, seeing an old ad trashed up in the garbage bin. Where you discovered the man that would undoubtedly “fix you”

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Yandere therapist! that hypnotizes his darling bimbo into thinking the healthiest outlet to vent out her feelings is to worship his cock.

“Feeling sad? Awe don’t you worry sweetheart I’ve got your favorite lollipop right here! If you suck all of the filling out you’ll feel so happy I promise you”

Yandere therapist! Hummed in a sickeningly sweet tone, unzipping his fly to present his precum covered meat for his darling to binge on. Like you do for every session you guys had together.

Yandere therapist! Who tosses his head back with a low groan as he tangled his fingers into your hair. Looking down at his patient with a half lidded glowering stare. Letting out small pants as he stutters his hips into your open maw.

He couldn’t believe how adorably stupid you were to put your trust in him. He wasn’t even a credible therapist after he had lost his license from dabbling in questionable experiments.

But you, oh poor dumb you, decided to ring up his old business card at seeing the old ads of how affordable his “services” were. And he couldn’t possibly turn such a desperate pretty thing like you away. Not when he’s got a taste of having a little obedient doe eyed slut. Ready to drop on their knees ready for their dick treatment in lowering their stress levels.

Yandere therapist! Who rams his shaft down your throat holding your head so he could spray spurts of his cum down your tender throat. Loving hearing you choke on his length to the point you were clawing at his thighs. Tears welling in yours eyes at the fact that you couldn’t breathe.

“Shh, I’m almost there, breathe through your nose sweetie. Fuck— keep tightening around me. Atta girl~ you wanna be happy don’t you? I know you do. Make me cum and we can both be happy together yeah?”

That day you left the office feeling better than ever at the treatment Dr. Wesly gave you. Of course you don’t remember what happened after he snapped his fingers. As he told you that his methods are a sacred practice. But you couldn’t help but feel how sore your mouth was and roll your tongue at the faint taste of something tangy and bitter stuck in the back of your throat.

Shrugging your shoulders you overlooked it since you were gonna see him again next week. He truly is a miracle worker and you couldn’t have been any more grateful to have him as your aide.

[misstycloud]

Yandere merman x reader x best friend

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Imagine a darling finding out she’s half-mermaid.

She lives in a small fishing village way out in he country. It’s the kind of town no one ever leaves. You’re born, grow up, and die there. Whole generations of families have lived there since long before.

Her parents are normal folks; father’s sailor and mother’s a stay-at-home wife. But since darlings family is so much like others’, she doesn’t understand why she’s so different. Her mother often jokes about how her first word was ‘sea’ and how she’d find her standing in her crib, staring out the window at the waves crashing into the cliffs.

Darling has been in a constant battle with herself her whole life. Since as long as she can remember she’s had a gripping fascination with the ocean. She can’t help it! Every night when everyone else laid sound-asleep in their beds, did she lie awake and fantasize about sneaking out and disappearing under the dark waves. No matter how hard she tried shutting these thoughts away, they always came back to haunt her.

While her mother thought is was cute and not a problem, it couldn’t be anything more. Her mother didn’t understand- as sweeet as she was. It probably stemmed from her being too busy with darlings younger siblings and doing chores, that she didn’t think of how the village spoke of her daughter. They call her strange and speak of what a waste of beauty on someone like her; she’s no good and you can’t marry her. Her mother didn’t know about how the rest of the kids teased darling. They pulled her her and pushed he on the ground. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for her to find her school books wet with sea water, since she ‘likes it so much’. The teachers didn’t care either.

The only solace darling can find is in her best friend. He always defended her agaisnt her bullies- which was practically everyone- and stayed by her side, even when he could become affected too. Darling feels he’s too good to her. The times she felt so alone, he was there to comfort her when her confidence was at its lowest. He held her when she cried and patted her back, whispering into her ear about how sweet and beautiful she is.

Then, by chance one day, she meets a merman. She is surprised- merfolk only exists in stories after all! The merman is so inhumanly beautiful. With long hair cascading down his back and a long fish tail. His tail looked very strong, he was no doubt an excellent swimmer. At first she is scared of him, she runs away-ignoring his shouts for her to come back- and keeps to herself in her room. Her family is worried and wonders if something is wrong, but she tells them it’s nothing and that she’s just a little tired. In her room, darling thinks about the merman. How is it possible for him to exist? Was she hallucinating and perhaps he wasn’t real? Are there other mythological creatures out there? After overcoming her initial fear and hesitance, she decides to go back to the beach.

The merman was still there. She dares ask how he can talk and he responds with, “My people don’t speak the way you do, but I have taught myself the language of humans. That’s how I am communicating with you.”

She asks him more questions, all of which he answers truthfully. Or, well, she hoped he wasn’t trying to deceive her. Darling even gained the courage of asking whether the stories of merfolk feastin on human flesh is true, and when the merman confirms it’s indeed true, she backs up. When he notices her alarmed state, he hurriedly add that he would never eat her.

It’s then he hits her with the most shocking reveal of her life. Apparently, he senses mer- blood in her vains.

“….n-no, that can’t be. You must be sensing wrong- I’m human..!”

He sighs. “Merfolk are very intuitive. We always recognise our own kind.”

He reveals that he suspect her of being half- merfolk since the scent of mer is strong on her. Darling thinks it’s laughable, both her parents are perfectly human. It can’t be. Like, she’d notice if one of her parents was a mythological creature with a fish tail as a lower half.

The merman tells her of old stories among his people, of mers who reproduced with humans- whether its be willingly or the human had kidnapped them. The children would always be different. On the surface they appeared like any other human, but on the inside there would constantly be a longing to return to their orgins- the ocean. Darling is conflicted. On one hand she can’t believe what she’s hearing, however, the description of the half- bloods fit her too well.

That night she confronts her father while he’s getting off work. He breaks instantly. She is shocked to discover that her father had an affair with a mermaid whilst being married to her mother. He had discovered her while fishing in an unpopular area and took her with him. He sobs that he couldn’t help it, the mermaid was so enchanting he couldn’t control himself. When the mermaid fell pregnant, he was so scared of what his wife would say when she found out, but when the child came out human, he was puzzled but relieved at the same time. He brought the baby home and played it off as finding it abondoned by the docks.

Darling can’t believe it. Her father was practically a monster. She recalled the tales of kidnapped merfolk held against their will, by the merman. She couldn’t imagine what her birth mother must’ve gone through. Her father begs her not to tell her mother because it would destroy the happy family they’d built.

In the end, she chooses to keep the secret for the time being. The right thing was to tell her mother, but it was also true that it would ruin everything and she didn’t want her younger siblings to grow up in a broken family. The only thing she wanted was for her father to leave her alone and never speak to her unless absolutely necessary. He agreed.

She begins spending all her time by the beach, in the company of the merman. She wondered what his name was, and to her bewilderment, he shrugged and said he didn’t have one. So she decides to give him one herself, Aqualor. It seemed merfolk-y enough. Luckily, the merman didn’t object and smiled instead, accepting the name.

Her best friend is worried though. He can never seem to even catch a glimpse of the love of his life anymore. Where was she? Now that they’d both grown into adults, it became harder to see each other; he had to work to support himself(and her, in the future). He felt horrible about it, but in all honesty he was a little glad the rest of the village didn’t take to her. If they did, surely she would have been taken away from him. Even if she didn’t know it, she was incredibly beautiful. It was impossible for him not to be a little biased, but she truly was the most wonderful thing he’d laid his eyes on. He could only imagine how it’d be if people actually treated her like she looked.

While her best friend felt the separation anxiety, darling count be happier. Finally she had someone who understood her fully. There was someone to relate to when she explained the urge to dive deep beneath the waves and disappear, and how pleasant water felt on her skin. Aqualor understood everything perfectly.

Her best memory was of her first swim with Aqualor. She’d been somewhat sacred in he beginning. Despite her desperate longing for the ocean, she’d never been in it much. It was quite ironic. He’d been so patient with her, never pushing or getting annoyed. He waited until she was more comfortable venturing out in the openness. Now they swam together every day, laughing and playing. Of course, Aqualor was the superior swim more out of the two of them, but darling likes to think she isn’t so shabby herself.

This is how she thought the rest of her life would be like; she and Aqualor enjoying each others company from morning to evening, while she returns home to the village every night. She didn’t have a job- no one would hire her anyway- so why not have fun with your friend? It wouldn’t be the best life, but it’d be peaceful and easy.

However, the ‘easy’ disappeared when Aqualor asked if she’d like to join him in the sea permanently.

“What? What do you mean?” She tilted her head in confusion.

The merman flipped his tail in the shallow water- his upper body was on the sand while the rest of him remained in the water. “Would you not like to come with me? We already spend so much time together, so it would hardly be any different.”

“Yeah, but I can’t just leave. I have to stay with my family.” She glanced back up and could see the tiniest snippet of houses, the village.

“You mean the father who has committed sins, a mother who doesn’t care for your feelings and siblings who forget your existence?” He harshly pointed out. His words stung.

“They’re far from perfect, I know that. But still, I can’t just vanish- I don’t even think I can survive out there!”

He grabbed her hand, his were wet and slightly webbed. It didn’t bother her though.

“Of course you can. Remember your heritage? Besides, I will be there and guide you through it. I will protect you, I will hunt for you. It will just be you and me, happy and content. Doesn’t it sound lovely?”

She went quiet and looked away, unsure.

He continued, “You alway tell me of how the humans treat you. They scorn you and say hateful words about you. That is because you are above them.” He smiled. “You do not belong here- you are mer! You should be with your people.”

“But even if I have mer-blood, I’m still human, look at me.” She stretched out her legs, flexing them and empathising their difference.

“You may have the appearance of a human, you soul, however, it is of a mermaid. You long to be free and to live the life you’ve always meant to live. They can’t keep you here in this…” his voice trailed off to disgust “cage.”

Darling sat and listened to Aqualor’s ramblings. Did he have a point? It’s not like anyone would miss her really. Her friend, yes, but he has so much else to live for. He’s not strange and everyone thinks well of him. He’ll be successful.

“So, what do you say, my coral? Will you join me?”

[allurilove]

I don't know if you accept application but please yandare lover x reader where reader is married and yandere is "the other".

This is bit of a short one, I’m so sorry! I’ve been playing this new game called WutheringWaves and I’ve been grinding for six hours already. 😭

Yandere Lover x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Synopsis: You’re already married— well stuck in one. Your relationship turns for the worst, but thankfully there is a more-than-nice neighbor across the street.

He’s had his eye on you when he moved into the quiet neighborhood, and unbeknownst to him, he never thought it would lead him to having blood on his hands.

He went door to door, being gracious and polite while he introduced himself to his neighbors. He’s been wanting to live in a tight-knit community, and his last residence was quite… horrible? The loud music, constant partying, and it was his fault for living near a college. He sighed as he walked up the white steps, his hand forming a fist and he knocked on your door.

When he first saw you, you took his breath away. You reached out to shake his hand, and he had to hold himself back from kissing it right there and then. He was hoping you would be single, but then he saw your partner come down the stairs.

Your partner isn’t a good person. He would know that. He could see how to tense up around him, how easily you got annoyed, and he could tell that your relationship was on the rocks. There was no love between you as you two wished him farewell, and he walked back to his house with the cookies you handed him. He took a bite of the treat—his tongue tasting the icing on top.

He came over often. Especially when you and your spouse had an argument, and he watched from his house when your partner got into their car and drove away. Every step to your house felt right, it was like he was on the pathway to your heart, and also to your legs. He’s not gonna call you “easy.” But a couple flirtatious words and banter, and you were already pressing him against the wall to kiss him. He kissed you back with eagerness, his hand gripping your hair, and the other one trailed down to grope your ass.

You led him to the bedroom, your hand already have pulled down his pants so he followed you with his cock out. It stood straight up for you, and you pushed him down onto the bed. He watched you straddle him and the rest was history.

He jumped out of the bed after cuddling with you, his hair sticking to his face because of the sweat, and he quickly put his clothes on as he heard the front door slam. He gave you one last kiss before he had to crawl out of your window, and now he was on your roof. He stood still, not wanting to get caught by your significant other as they busted through your bedroom. He could hear you two bickering and he tiptoed off your roof before he hopped down onto the ground. He trips because of his damn pants falling down, and he groaned as he scraped his knee.

He tells himself that will be the last time he fucks around with a married person.

So, he’ll try to convince you to divorce your partner.

You were in his car that was parked at an empty lot, and his hand was already caressing your thigh. He knew you were the one for him. While he loves and cherish every fleeting moment, and quick hookups, he wants to be with you for life.

“You don’t even like them anymore? Right?” Your lover asked, his voice was strained, and he was so upset that you didn’t look at him.

“What’s wrong with me? I’m actually here for you every night, and when they scream and break your heart— I’m there!”

“I’m always there! I’m here for you.”

He leaned in closer, his lips quickly kissing yours as if he was scared that you’ll slip through his fingers. “What’s with the change of heart?”

“All of a sudden you’re gonna toss me to the side??”

You never said anything that night. You decided to just sleep with him one last time before you try to fix your marriage. He saw how you were out of it, not because he fucked you so well, but because you were thinking. And he didn’t like that you had other people on your mind.

He grew tense as he saw you hold hands with your partner. You two were working on your relationship, actually meeting with a counselor, and he sat in his car to see if it was successful or not. And to his surprise…you two started to kiss and when you pulled back— your “lover” saw the shimmer in your eyes. That’s how you used to look at him, you used to look at him like that whenever you came, and you looked at him like that when you tried to convince him to sleep with you again and again and again. Those cute pouty lips, and the fluttering of the eyelashes— are reserved for just him and him only.

He started to devise a plan. He wrote down the times your partner left for work, when they came back, where they frequently went too, and who is in their immediate circle. So far they are a total dud that does next to nothing. Great.

He huffed as he’s been following your partner for hours. All they have been doing is texting on their phone and walking around aimlessly.

Fuck they are boring. What did you even see in them to lock them down?

Finally they came to a stop, probably flying off a quick email again, and all is a sudden he heard creaking. It sounded like it came from above. He slowly looked up to see an AC unit that was installed in the window, and his eyes widened as he saw it be pushed out. He managed to dodge the attack, and the machine breaks apart as it landed on your partners head. Their skull cracked right open, and the body laid flat onto the ground.

He panicked, looking around to see if anyone saw what happened, and he took a couple steps back. He saw the blood seep out, and shit he didn’t want to be seen with a dead body of all things!

He turned around and ran.

And guess who was comforting you at the funeral? He was. He had to hide his smug smile as you cried on his shoulder, he said some comforting words in your ear, and he rubbed your back soothingly. He felt a sense of triumph as he passed the casket.

It’s not like he could’ve saved your significant other. It’s not like he had time to push them away. It wasn’t like he was the one that threw it at them.

Right?

Allure: Lol im gonna go back to playing games and suffering while studying! see yall later!

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Yandere Step-Brother - Drabble

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

SUMMARY: Your step-brother doesn't like sharing your attention.

WARNINGS: Stepcest; Blackmail.

AN: Hope you guys like it 😊and please don't be a silent reader! If you liked this, please make sure to reblog or comment, I beg you.

Based on this Headcanon

--

“Who is he?” 

You try to ignore him, opting to walk past him until his hand grabs your arm, forcing you to stop in your tracks and face him.

His lips are pressed thin, and you know he watched the small but impactful interaction between you and a random classmate of yours, who brought you back the pencil case you forgot in class. 

Of course he’s jealous now. Your step-brother just can’t stand the sight of you and another guy, no matter who he is. 

“I asked you something.” the hold on your arm tightens, and you almost wince. “Who is he?” 

You look at him for a moment, shrugging your shoulders.

“I don’t know, a classmate.” 

“A classmate?” 

You nod, but clearly your step-brother isn’t satisfied enough with your answer as he questions you further. 

“And what exactly did this classmate of yours want?”

You wave the small pencil case in front of him.

“He was just returning my case.” you reply, huffing. “Now can I go? I’m tired of being interrogated, like I committed a crime or something.” 

His eyes narrow down at your dismissive attitude, and you get a pinch of concern over the poor boy’s life. 

“Do you want me to call your mom?” his question throws you off, and you look at him. 

“What?” 

He pinches the softness of your cheek, and you have to fight back the itch to slap his hand away from you.

“Don’t you think your mom deserves to know?” he asks you, a sly half-smile on his lips. “I think she’d be thrilled to know.” 

“What-”

“Bet she’ll love to know just how much of a cock whore you are.” he looks down at you, eyes flitting over to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. “How her precious daughter is always so eager to jump onto anyone’s dick. Such a slut.”

Tears prickle your eyes, and it takes every bit of self-control for you to hold them back but your step-brother sees their shimmery on your orbs anyways.

He puffs his chest, leaning so close that your noses are practically touching. You know better than to step back, as a prey does. 

“I’m not a slut.” you clench your teeth, voice shaken with anger and hurt. 

He tilts his face to the side, analyzing your upset frown. 

“You think I won’t tell her?” he raises his eyebrows, “You think I won’t tell her that you seduced me into fucking you. That you were so eager and desperate to jump on my dick, just like you were about to do with that classmate of yours.”

A lonely tear runs down your cheek, and you look away from him. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” your voice is small and shaken, and you hate the way he nuzzles into your hair, kissing your head with a soft kiss. “Why are you so invested in ruining my life?”

“Because I love you.” he declares, the determination in his voice scaring you.

“And I’ll do anything to keep you mine. Even if you don’t want to.”

[rebelcharmings]

raven’s road to getting tailor quick (taylor swift) EveRAfterS (eras) tour tickets: a mini twitter series

thankfully apple managed to ask tailor quick for one more ticket so now she, raven And dexter are going☺️and so apple is forced to thirdwheel for 3 hours. she managed to have fun tho even without darling!🥰

inspired by my post here and some of my own thoughts as a fellow swiftie who didn’t get tickets at first but now i do!!!

and here is part 1 of my fake tweets au !!

[ellitx]

Entrapment | Alastor x Reader

Okay, hear me out. Alastor being a darling husband he is with his darling wifey is cute and all, but what about a darling wanting to escape from Alastor himself?

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alastor is enough to be a warning already, depictions of blood and gore, toxic and unhealthy dynamic

When you were still alive, he always had his eyes on you and controlled you like his little puppet. You hated it, you hated being commanded and controlled for every little thing you did and if you even dared run away from him, he’d always manage to find you. You hate every atomic part of his existence so much that you’d be willing to kill yourself just so you could escape and get that taste of freedom.

But you can’t and he won’t let you.

Alastor would never allow the tip of the knife nor even a simple piece of office equipment reach your hands. And if someone has the audacity to touch his play toy, it’s time to say goodbye.

You know he’s a malicious murderer, and he knows that you know about it. If you’re feeling brave enough to tell it to the police then go ahead, because by the time you report this to them and leave the station, the next day you find yourself throwing up yesterday’s dinner upon hearing the cops were all dead.

No one will ever believe you that the infamous radio host of your city is a murderer. For a puny citizen like you, what power do you hold to convince everyone? They’ll laugh it off and say you’re crazy.

But it’s crazier how they are all deceived by the facade he puts on. His knife plunged into the chest of your coworker, their blood spluttering on his cheek.

Alastor’s wide smile was strained and wicked, the image of the blood dripping from your head and lips when he entered the broadcasting booth was as clear as his collection of polished knives.

The audacity to lay a hand on you and push you down the stairs. Do they have the right to push you off? Of course not! He’s the only one who could torment you until you break!

He’s the only one who could tarnish your being and leave a wounded mark on your soul and heart, a reminder for you there’s no one but himself who could make you so powerless and helpless.

Do they have the right to make you so confused? To put all the blame on you, as if you were the worst person in the world? To try their best to tear you apart piece by piece? Because, after all, it’s always the fault of someone else, right? The audacity to hurt you more than any human has ever hurt another human being before… The nerve to be sure you will never find true happiness again because you're now scarred for life.

He thrust the blade again, the rains of scarlet droplets continued to pour until his face and glasses were doused.

But he didn’t let it hinder him from making sure they were as good as dead. He lifted his head and took a glimpse at the sky above. It was gloomy, gray, and dark. Not much sunshine.

Alastor smiled, stabbing the knife at the corpse's chest before wiping off his glasses with his clean napkin. Then an idea clicked onto him.

It's the perfect time to give you a little visit.

He laughed under his breath and stood up straight.

He knew his outfit was not in good condition, but oh well... Perhaps, he’d instead leave a gift for you on your porch. Oh, how he wished he could make an unexpected appearance, just to witness the shock and horror on your face as Alastor comes to the hospital drenched in a coat of glistening crimson.

The anticipation of your reaction fueled his excitement, the more he thought about it, the bigger his grin became. If this would truly happen, it will surely be a sight to behold.

Still fragile from your time in the hospital, you stepped through the threshold of your home.

You missed the sight of its familiar structure, the only space you feel safe and protected, away from Alastor and your colleagues.

A sense of relief washed over you. The familiar sights and comforting aura of your own space enveloped you like a warm embrace. But something was different, something unexpected awaited you.

There on the polished surface of your entryway sat an elegantly wrapped box, its rich paper adorned with intricate patterns and tied with a luxurious ribbon. Your fingers traced the smooth edges of the packaging and you checked for any signs who sent it. Alas, no name was found.

Who could have left this for you? And why now, upon your return from the hospital?

You had a bad feeling about it.

As you carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the layers of paper, you stared wide-eyed at the contents hidden within.

Severed limbs, skin deathly pale and stiff.

Your stomach turned violently and you threw the box away from you, the gift spilling across the floor.

"Oh god, oh my god, what the fuck?!"

You were shaking. What was this? Was this a threat? A sick joke? Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, each beat pounding like thunder. You took a step back and stumbled, falling hard to the floor.

It didn't stop there.

Wounds inflicted on every part of your body, the scars on you began to open, rendering the healing done by doctors and nurses useless.

Wounds made by knives, claws, scissors, guns. Every imaginable instrument of torture. You cried out loud. Your voice pierced the quiet of the night, disturbing the tranquility of the neighborhood.

It was a perpetual and horrid nightmare. Just closing your eyes for even a millisecond, the image of his wide creepy smile flashed before you. You could hear his dark cackles, enjoying the sight of your vulnerable form as he tormented you in and out of your work.

“Run as far as you want, dear. In the end, I’ll always be ahead of you.”

The worst part was not knowing when he would strike next. He could appear anywhere at any time.

And it was all because of his sick game.

You didn't know what to do anymore. How long did you have to keep running from him? How many more days did you have to hide from the world? You were so tired of this, tired of having to live in fear of the monster that hunted you.

But God had finally heard your pleas and granted the wish you’ve been wanting for so long. So when the news came to you that the notorious radio host was dead, relief and happiness flooded every vein in your body.

You rejoiced, celebrating the death of the one who had terrorized you for a long time.

The nightmare was finally over.

The radio station was sullen by the news of their popular host, but you didn’t care. Your work became more efficient. You didn’t feel the need to be so wary and anxious by every move you made in the station. You have finally gained your freedom and the chain that was tied to him has shattered.

This was the best thing you could ever ask for.

Even on your deathbed, it was the best dream. Years without Alastor torturing and tormenting you was bliss. A man’s greatest wealth of freedom.

But then, the dream quickly turned into a nightmare, for it was never over. The demon who you thought was dead rose once again. It was only then you realized that he was never human in the first place. He was a monster.

And now, it was you who were caught in his web.

"My, what a wonderful reunion. Did you miss me, darling?”

The demon before you was mysterious.

Unfamiliar.

But his aura and voice screamed for you, the alarms in your body ringing, to run away from him as far as you possibly can.

The wide smile plastered on his face was all too familiar. Too familiar to be hated in the living and the dead. You’d be a fool if you didn’t recognize it.

You knew who he was. You just kept on denying what was the truth, brushing all the facts laid before you beneath the rag, and keeping your pretty little head away from the politics of Hell.

A demon who is powerful, dangerous, and cruel.

A demon who was feared by the other demons in Hell. A demon who is not to be messed with.

Alastor. The Radio Demon.

It was a miracle, or rather a curse, that you were brought back to life. But now you are a prisoner to this Hell. Trapped inside an inescapable cage with a dangerous beast, you could only hope that your second death would come quickly and peacefully.

But it seemed that fate was not on your side, and Alastor was the ever cruel demon. He did not scar you easily and instead prolonged your suffering, making your life a living torture.

Beads of sweat rolled from your temple. Your hands began to tremble and you felt yourself slowly succumbing to your fear. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

You were cornered, trapped.

Alastor had you where he wanted.

You watched him closely, eyes locked on him and every single movement. If he did something, you would see it.

"Are you frightened, dear?" he asked. His eyes met yours and he smiled. "There is no need to be afraid."

"Stay back! Don't touch me!" you shouted at him. The corners of his lips curled up, his smile turning sinister.

"Now, now, let's not act too hastily."

His gloved hand reached out and caressed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. His red eyes bore into your soul, burning with hunger.

You couldn't bear to look at him. You didn't want him touching you.

"Don't," you whimpered.

"Don't be afraid. You have no reason to be afraid."

Rivers of tears streamed down your cheeks as the fear overwhelmed you. You didn't want him touching you. This man... He was the same one who hurt you, who ruined you.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you here?"

The smile on his face grew wider.

"Do I need a reason? It’s obvious why we’re here," he replied, cocking his head to the side, eyes piercing through your eyes and consuming every little bit of your reactions in his head.

You gulped and stepped back, trying to create some distance between you and him.

"What are you going to do with me?"

He chuckled. "What a silly question! Would a little reacquaintance hurt?"

Reacquaintance? He was talking like this was a casual meeting. Like you were old friends reuniting. But this was the man who hurt you.

"What's the meaning of this?” You sobbed, shaking your head.

Alastor laughed loudly, his grin never faltering, and it makes you sick he finds everything amusing. An entertainment for his delight.

"You never fail to amuse me, dear. Aren’t you the one who killed me?” His antlers grew, his pupils changed to radio dials and his shadow stretched out of him, becoming more demonic in appearance.

You trembled. Your heart beat faster, your legs felt weak, and your mouth was dry.

"I... I…."

He stepped closer, and you stepped back.

Nothing came out of your lips. The words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. You didn't want to look him in the eyes but his gaze held your chin up high, forcing you to face him. He smiled, and his eyes turned back to normal.

The knees that kept you upright gave in, unable to stabilize you any longer as your body slumped onto the rough pavement.

"Oh, darling," he sighed, the radio static in his voice disappeared as he crouched down. 

Your gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding any chance encounter with Alastor's piercing stare. Instead, your eyes trailed to his cane, a silent witness to the tense atmosphere between you.

You dared not meet those fiery red optics that seemed to delve into the depths of your very being, dissecting every nuance of your expression. Fingers clenched tightly, you seek some form of solace in the texture of the barren earth beneath you, as though it could take you amidst the storm brewing within.

Alastor took your chin between his fingers and delighted your vulnerable form. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy and cheeks stained with tears.

"Fate has intertwined us together, dear. Run from me, I’ll always find you."

You didn't know what was more cruel—being brought to hell when you only wished for peace or being toyed around with him after death.

The nightmare you once thought had finally ceased returned to resume its cycle in the afterlife.

"I'll never get away from you..." You said, voice low and wavering. All hope was lost and so was your faith to continue living in this fiery pit of Hell.

"That's right. Good girl," He patted your head, taking a few strands of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. You fought the impulse to recoil, suppressing the urge to swat his hand away. 

The consequence of such defiance weighed heavily on your mind; after all, provoking one of hell's overlords was a gamble you weren't willing to take. So you held your ground, masking your inner turmoil beneath a facade of obedience, unsure of what consequences awaited should you dare to challenge the infernal authority before you.

In the dim light, his hand tenderly brushed away the tear tracing its path down your cheek. But as your eyes met his, a glint of something primal flickered in the darkness, casting an eerie glow upon his sharp, yellowed teeth.

Upon the moonlight, his crimson irises blazed like embers, drawing you into their hypnotic depths with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"But fear not, darling. I can promise you a good time. And now that I found you again, we can pick up from where we left off. It will be just like old times."

[shuturmouth09]

Happy national lesbian day to these 3 bitches

[cumtastiics]

tw * yandere. / mdni.

yandere toxic ex w/ (g/n) reader

"i just don't get why you'd do that to me... did you think it was funny?" he forced your head up by pulling your hair harshly. "you're so stupid..."

"i-i'm sorry, please-" you were a sobbing mess. you were already so vulnerable, and he wasn't helping at all. "i won't leave a-again, i didn't mean to, it was a mistake, really!"

his grip on your hair suddenly got tighter, pulling your head back. "you should be grateful i let you back in my home... don't you feel embarrassed? ashamed...? you're like a stupid dog..."

he wanted to slap you, to make you feel some more pain, but he was feeling gracious. "you should be thankful i'm not hitting you. be grateful you came back before i found you."

yikes! is this the return of cumtastiics mean yanderes?!

[graphedpaper]

Renter Problems 3

yandere!celebrity x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're trying to find a place near your university to stay, and you've managed to find a mansion owned by a celebrity to live in. His name is Jacob, and you've known him since middle school as the arrogant douche who occasionally spread rumours about you. He's blown up recently as the new, hot celebrity thanks to the movie he's starred in, though, while you're just struggling to pass by. For an unknown reason, he's obsessed with the idea of you being his girlfriend, and after you announce you will be moving out, he decides to imprison you in his house. You learn he's even more abusive than ever, especially with his new influence. Details: Physical and verbal abuse, NSFW, manipulation, fem reader, kidnapping, non-con, oral Warning: NSFW, Non-Con

"I'm back!" A voice that sends terror to your nerves calls up towards the bedroom. He sounds happy... energized, even. It causes you to relax your tense muscles.

Your face is sticky with dried tears, and fresh tears on top of that. You're starving, and you've had to go drink water from the bathroom sink just so you wouldn't dehydrate. Your voice feels gone and you were too scared to try and escape with the threat of an alarm.

So pathetic. You might just be letting this happen to you. You might like this after all, being a victim.

No, no. Keep strong.

You shake your head of the dangerous thought. The betrayal of your own mind.

You tried, you did try. The door. You tried knocking it down so many times. But it was solid and felt like a 3 meter thick stone block.

He unlocks the door. He walks towards you.

Please. Please don't.

"I'm so fucking exhausted, shit." He sits down on the edge bed next to you and lies back.

You flinch away. Your empty stomach sinks five meters and you regret flinching from him. He could get angry again, and he might-

He glances at your cowering body from the corner of his eye. You weren't scared then, so why so scared now? Can't you see he's trying to be nice? It irks him, truthfully. He's not a fucking monster for God's sake.

"So, you're not going to ask me about my tiring day at work?"

"Why are you doing this." You ask him, your words flat to the wall as you gaze at the small bumps of the dried white paint to avoid looking at him, heart hammering.

Jacob could just ignore that. He could shut you up, train you. But he's a nice guy. He's chill, he's a sweetheart. He's a harmless flirt! (That's how the latest news articles had described him as. How could anyone not fall at their knees?

"Because I like you." He replies. And it's a truth of sorts. He does like your body. He likes how you look, and your voice. He doesn't like how you act as of late though, like a pretentious whore.

"Jacob, please, I don't like you in that way. I have... I have a life, I have plans. I- I have to go to college in a few months, please!" You cry out, losing all composure.

He laughs out loudly at your cries. "Y/n, what life? Your own parents don't even think of you as their child, you have no friends, and you have no house!"

He sits up and roughly grabs your face.

"Stop. Whining."

His hands feel tight around your jaw, like he could crush it. His hold on you forces your lips to pout slightly and you feel humiliated.

He quickly lets go and gently pats you on the back, like he's cheering up a sad child or something.

"Sorry," He says after a bit of quiet. "I just feel like you could at least pretend to care."

Insane. That's the only word that comes to your mind. He's insane and nobody except you knows. Your friends at their fancy university, they don't know, your parents, they don't know, no one knows.

You stare back at him. His wavy hair sits slightly messed from his tantrum, his doe-like eyes that dig into your own. It's deceptively sweet and trustworthy. But he also had a darker side to him, you could feel it, not from the way he sat, or analyzed his every surrounding, not even his need to control everything. No, no, it was an instinctive scream that rang echos in your soul to run away. He was not a sweet boy, he was a dangerous man, and you needed to get away. In fact, he'd never been a sweet boy. At best, a playground bully. Appearances were deceiving, and that gave you chills.

Is that why he had imprisoned you like this? Because you had broken free of his control? Then perhaps you could free yourself by aligning back with his wants, whatever that was. You could pretend. You could pretend to be his girlfriend.

"Umm... So you had a long day?" You try. You're fearful for a negative reaction.

But almost immediately, his face brightens up.

"Yeah, I had to film 3 interviews today and everyone was fucking disgusting. They're so fake, I could see right through them. Every one of them, they're hideous." He rants, as he comes closer to you slowly.

"Unlike you, you're breathtakingly perfect." He winks at you.

He reaches over to hold your hand and you let him. You have no energy, really.

"Y/n, I have so much stress pent up inside me." He tells you. His eyes brush your body in a way that makes you feel like throwing up. Throwing up what, you don't know, because you haven't had food in almost a day.

"You do?" You ask slowly, unsure what he means by that.

A cord of tense atmosphere wraps itself onto both of you, and it holds you two there. The air feels thick.

"Yeah, I mean, I just really need to release the stress."

He spreads his legs just slightly, and your heart stops at what he's suggesting. His jeans have a bulge in it, that wasn't there this morning.

As you sit on the edge of the bed with your legs tucked in under you, you feel a sweat arising from the deepest core of your body, the type that forces you to run. To run away from this.

But you can't.

"No- please- Jacob, no, please, I'm a virgin," You back away into the headboard as you begin to sob.

He comes closer to you and you want to puke. Really.

"I thought you cared about me. I thought we agreed that in order for this relationship to work we need to care about each other?" He demands.

Your stomach grumbles. Jacob smiles at this, having already planned everything.

"You're hungry right? You haven't eaten at all? I got food and it's downstairs." He says.

"Yeah- yeah I'm hungry." You reply, shaking.

"Then, do this for me and I'll let you eat." He holds your handcuffs and drags you close to himself.

You freak and you thrash, trying to get away, but he holds onto your tied wrists tight. "Jacob, please, I'm so scared, I don't want to do this. It's too early." You beg him.

"You're a virgin?" He asks, and you're confused. You already told him, so why's he interrogating you like this?

"Yes." You respond, hesitant.

"Ok, doesn't matter, you'll still be one at the end." He says, in a relaxed tone. You're left to ponder what he means by that. It's a contradicting statement, to have sex and still be a virgin.

Jacob sees your confusion and smirks. "What, like you've never heard of being a blowjob?" He says mockingly. "Get down on the floor."

You gasp at his crude words and try to shrink away, off the bed.

"Kneel down, or I'm going to cut your fucking finger off." He threatens. His threat still fresh in your mind, you force your own body to move down onto the floor.

He releases the hold on your handcuffs and you kneel down on the floor. It forces you to look up at his open legs.Jacob undos his black leather belt.

"Now, pull my zipper down." He orders, hand on your shoulder.

You try to, with your cuffed hands, but it won't work. The hands which are bound render you incapable of unzipping his pants.

"Jacob-" You begin.

"You have a mouth, right?" He interrupts you with a patronizing smile.

The absolute humiliation of this, the way he treats you like an animal leaves you furious. His sincere suggestion of you to kneel and use your teeth to undress him. You still do it though, because what choice do you truly have? You lean your face into the intersection of his pants and hold your breath in fear. You take his pant zipper in between your teeth and drag it down, like a dog. His underwear looks like it'll burst, and maybe he knows that, because he quickly pushes it down to reveal his hard-on. His dick slaps his lower abdomen from the release of the constricting fabric. It's almost painfully red at the tip.

It's big, and maybe scary isn't the right word to utilize in describing this scene in front of you, but all you feel is white-hot fear.

"Well?" He asks.

"I don't know how." You tell him.

"Just put your mouth on it, no teeth." He replies.

But you just can't force yourself to do it. You shake your head no and tears well up in your waterline again. Jacob smiles, in a knowing way, and he reaches over to the nightstand drawer. You freeze and analyze every microscopic movement of his body. He opens the top drawer while still holding onto your hair, tight.

Jacob didn't really want to do this to you. Well, maybe just a little. Okay, he wanted to do this a lot.

He grabs a sharp knife and puts it to your neck. However small, it's still a blade, which causes you to instinctively jolt. You scream and try to move your neck away.

"Do you really want to do that?" He asks, still having your hair in a strong grasp. "One wrong move and it cuts into a very important vein."

You must think he's so sick. What would you do if you knew he was getting turned on from this? That's why he loved you so much, you were the only person he could really do this to. You were a nobody from his past, but you were a nobody from his past.

"Jacob please, please, I'm not ready." You let out a sob, as the blade broke the soft skin of your neck. Your body shakes in terror.

You feel your breathes quicken and your chest tightens up. Jacob notices how your small body is heaving rapidly, and his gaze softens, a little.He lifts off some pressure from the knife and pushes your head onto his cock. You're tired, you're starving, you might die. Your fogged-up brain lets your body be lead like a marionette as you let his tip press into your plush red lips you don't fight back.

"Suck it with your tongue." He orders.

And you do, you cautiously lick the tip of his length with a few swirls, tasting him. It's repulsive.

"Oh fuck." He moans, throwing his head back slightly.

So he likes that.

You hope he'll be happy with your tentative licking, but he becomes greedier and greedier with each second. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth until you start to gag and cough. The foreign object in your throat keeps you from breathing and you desperately want to throw it up. But his hands have a strong hold on your head.

"Oh god, yeah, oh, you're doing so good- oh, baby, you-you sure it's your first time?" He moans out, panting and he begins to thrust himself in shallow ins and outs.

He doesn't expect an answer, this is all his fantasy after all.

You press on his legs to push him off, and he finally removes his cock. You lump over and you cough. He forces back into your mouth after a few quick breathes though, he's searching for his release and it's coming soon. Tears are just a part of your appearance now, as he thrusts into your throat you can feel your mind going somewhere else.

He starts to become rougher and his legs tense.

"Fuck, shit, oh fucking fuck!" His face is in bliss, a contrast to your own.

He goes deeper and faster and he manages to make out one last sentence.

"Swallow, don't you dare spit it out."

A thick, hot, but salty liquid floods your mouth, and you wince at the gross substance that coats your tongue, but you brace yourself and swallow.

Jacob stares at you and pats your head, as if that makes up for it.

You collapse of exhaustion on the floor and Jacob gets up to change into his sweatpants first. Then he puts the knife away and brushes his hair slightly.

Finally, he scoops you up, and sees that you're unconscious. You look tired but peaceful, like a fairy, or a dying angel. Your eyes are closed as your lashes curve just a little bit upwards, your lips in a relaxed position. Your skin is radiant, and Jacob finds himself smiling at your beauty.

He gently puts you on his bed, and covers you with a thick blanket.

"Sleep well. I'll get you breakfast tomorrow, I promise."

If you enjoyed this, you might enjoy the rough draft version on wattpad. Yes, I know, wattpad stories suck, but that's the place it's at for all the public to see. There are far more chapters, so I just wanted to let anyone curious know, since re-editing these chapters take some time.

[kawaiialeisha]

”Just a loser!” 🌀╎O ~ 🎶

All aboard!! 🚂

[larzuen]

Happy late Valentines day bbgs

finally having the motivation to do more Casino Of The Vamps AU stuff again 🤧 still fleshing out the story and I think It gave me permanent mind block lmaoo

(Bonus comic):

[2-dsimp]

What if Lynx was with a fem harpy!reader and he found out she had taken in a lone egg? Kinda wanna see his reaction to that...

『Featuring your yandere Harpy getting rid of unwanted competition』

——;———;——-

Cw: Territorial Lynx, HEAVY angst, violence, gore, no adopting eggs for you since it’s gotta be his baby chick and his alone.

——;———;——-

The famous pop star is always so attentive when it comes to his mates needs. He’ll shower you in expensive gifts and luxury items to show his affection. And preens in delight at seeing how you hoarded said presents within your precious nest.

But one day while perching upon your resting spot he saw an egg. An egg that wasn’t his nor yours laying upon your silken covered nest. And the harpy’s plumage spiked up in an alarming manner, his eyes dialated with a snarl breaking from his lips. Bristling as he stalked towards the innocent hatchling that’s yet to be introduced into the world.

Lynx’s instincts are going haywire since this could only mean that you’ve adopted this lonesome orphan. But that can’t be right, if you wanted eggs he could’ve easily made it so you could pop out a whole batch from his heartfelt efforts alone. Maybe you were too shy to ask which is why you had this parasite invading your, his home with you in the first place.

Well no matter, it’s no use to dwell on it since the infestation will be gone out of sight and out of mind. Raising his sharp talons he stared down at the egg for a moment. An empty emotionless expression crossing his otherwise bright features.

“Sorry buddy but there’s no room for you and my chicks to coexist. Blame your mother who’ve abandoned you for this”

Before abruptly curbstomping it indefinitely ending the hatchlings life prematurely. Hearing the egg crack and crumble alongside the squishy feeling of the stillborn vermin crush in between his taloned feet.

This has to be done, for all you know it could’ve been a cuckoo egg. So he was doing you a favor saving you from being taken for granted. And you were his mate, so you shouldn’t even have been showing away another egg that’s not his.

But being the generous person he was he’ll forgive you. After all you’re his precious muse.

[ak319]

Dark Arthur Morgan x sis reader

Part II

!!Warnings: Not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, restrictions // I don't condone such behaviour

+Arthur is in his 20's

AN: I have no idea where this story is going to go as I started this as a one-shot but I kinda love writing it and you guys loved it too, so let's see. Do give feedback and enjoy reading♥︎

Part I

The past two days had been a blur of pain and silence, ever since your brother had shattered the one thing that kept you anchored, your dreams of school, of maybe one day working in a clinic, or standing before a classroom, of seeing more than just this small corner of the world. Now, that hope felt so distant, as if he’d snatched it away with a single sweep of his hand.

The old routine returned, the one you'd hoped was gone for good. He left early in the mornings, going off to odd jobs or working with Dutch before the sun had fully risen, forcing you to make breakfast at 6 a.m. When he came back, he’d drop some cash on the table, tired and bitter, his mood tied to how harsh the day had been. Dinner had to be ready by then, unlike before when he used to help set the table or even cook, back when your mum was exhausted and you didn’t know your way around the kitchen.

"Don't, I'll do it. You’ll probably burn the house down or chop your fingers off," he used to say, his voice teasing but kind. Now it was, "Hm, edible than the last one," said with an empty glance as if nothing had ever changed.

Every time you thought about it, about what had been lost, your eyes welled up, but you swallowed the tears before they could fall.

You didn’t know if he felt guilty for what he did or said that night. At this point, you didn’t even care to know. It’s not like you could ever forget it, or that any apology would bring back the brother you once knew, the caring, normal, fun version of him. That part of him seemed lost forever, and there was nothing you could do to bring it back. So, you buried yourself in chores, keeping your hands and mind busy. Mending old clothes, washing dishes even when they were already clean, mopping the floors, tending to the small garden out back, anything to keep from dwelling on the silence that had taken over the house. Even while washing the clothes, you couldn’t avoid noticing the dark stains, no matter how much you tried to focus elsewhere. Blood, his or someone else’s, you couldn’t tell. Your hands froze in the cold water as the red seeped from the fabric, swirling around your fingers, tainting the water.

As for your books, you read them only at night, waiting until you were sure he was asleep, your door closed tight. There was still that lingering fear in your chest, a whisper in your mind warning that Arthur might not like seeing you with those books. You didn’t want to give him another reason to lash out.

And then there was the matter of your father. You wanted to know if he was safe, if he was even coming back. It gnawed at you that Arthur wasn’t doing anything about it, wasn’t trying to bring him home. You longed to see your father again, to confide in him like you did when you were a child, when you’d run to him after Arthur ate more than his share of your snacks, pulled your hair, or called you silly nicknames. You missed that sense of safety, of having someone who could stand up to your brother with confidence. Maybe he could convince Arthur to let you go back to school, to return to that life and those dreams that now seemed so far away.

⋆⋆⋆

You froze mid-chop as the front door creaked open and shut, the heavy clank of boots echoing through the hallway. They grew louder, each step closer, filling you with a prickling sense of dread. But you kept your eyes on the chopping board, trying to steady your hands, your pace slowing, each slice more hesitant than the last.

"Here, bought the stuff." The bags hit the wooden table with a thud, and you finally turned, not to him, but to the groceries, giving a brief, acknowledging glance.

He lingered a moment longer, then stepped closer, holding out a small packet. The sweet, familiar smell drifted between you, and you recognized it instantly, your favourite treat, the kind that used to make your face light up. But this time, you hesitated, your fingers curling against the counter rather than reaching out.

"What?" His voice came out rough, and when you didn't react, he slammed the packet onto the counter, frustration clear in his movements. It was a clumsy, half-hearted attempt at making amends, and you couldn't bring yourself to reward it with gratitude. You turned back to the chopping, each motion mechanical, as he shifted away, his boots beginning to echo down the hall again.

Before he could leave, your voice broke through the tense silence. “When will Dad be... back?”

He halted, turning with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance at the mention of your father. A scoff curled his lips. "Dad? What, you miss him or somethin'?"

“Hm, of course.” Your response made him pause, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “Oh really? You miss that drunkard’s presence?”

You swallowed, forcing the words out even though they made your throat tighten. “Drunkard or not, he’s still our father.”

“Right, a shit one.”

“At least the one who never... raised his hands on me or even Mum,” you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them. The moment they did, his expression darkened, and he stomped toward you, eyes blazing.

“I’ve been more responsible for this house than he ever was! For years!” His voice grew louder, echoing off the walls of the small kitchen, his presence looming. “And you stand there, giving me attitude just because I stopped you from doing such shameless shit- so damn right , I'll raise my hand if i want to!”

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” you cut him off, your voice cracking with desperation. “You’re just refusing to believe it! How could you... not... trust me all of a sudden? Your own sister-”

“Oh no, you’ve changed. Prioritizing that stupid school and homework over everything, acting like you’re better than us. You were always spoiled, and now when I say no to something, this is how you act!” He jabbed a finger in your direction, his words sharp and accusing.

“I have always been like this!” Your voice broke, the emotions too raw to keep in check. “You’re the one who changed... in the worst way.” The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, blurring your vision as you turned away from him, your shoulders shaking with each sob.

Arthur stood there, watching you crumble before him. His stance, rigid and defensive, softened as he took in the sight of your back trembling with each breath. Your eyes and the way you spoke back reminded him of his mother again. This was the same way she had argued with Dad, fierce and unwavering, standing her ground against the lifestyle he had chosen, against his irresponsible behavior that seemed to spiral deeper every day. Even before you were born, when he was just a toddler, he remembered the echoes of those arguments drifting through the dimly lit rooms of their home.

He clenched his fists, an unfamiliar doubt creeping into his mind, wondering, Had he really changed?

“Well, yes, I have,” he finally muttered, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. “So stop trying to change me!" he snapped, though his voice lacked the conviction it once had. “You think it’s that easy? You think I’m doing this for fun? I’m doing what I have to do to survive! You’re just too soft to understand, having no clue how the world works outside, what kind of people are out there... and I see them every damn day.” He spoke as if trying to convince himself as much as you, a strange mix of frustration and something close to regret lingering in the air.

“Aren’t you one of them?” you retorted, wiping your face harshly, the anger seeping into every word. He went deadly quiet, the air thickening as his voice dropped to a dangerous, controlled tone.

“See? You don’t get it. I’m doing this to keep you safe! This roof over your head, that food you’re cooking!”

“There are other ways too-”

“DAMN IT!" He slammed his fist on the chopping board. " I wasn’t raised to be cut out for such jobs! Don’t you fucking know this? That damned father of ours, he set me on this path! Stop being so ignorant, dumbass!” As if your father was the one who had led him to lovely Dutch.

“But you’re capable of doing something different, more honest. But if you keep doing this, you’re digging yourself deeper--”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH! Enough!” His face twisted in frustration, his words coming out like a snarl. “Whatever work I do, whatever I earn, it’s more rewarding than any job, so shut it and don’t ever lecture me.”

He stormed out of the kitchen, but you weren’t ready to let it end like that. “Arthur! At least take me... to see him...”

He stopped abruptly, turning back with a fierce glare. “What did you just say?”

“Dad... I want to-”

“Oh, so now you wanna stroll to stations? Absolutely not!” He spat the words like venom, his face contorted with anger. “They’re keeping him there for some time, and I can’t always bail him out. It’s not safe for me to go to the sheriff’s, either. So be happy they aren’t executing him this time.” The bitterness in his voice cut through the space between you, leaving a chill that settled deep in your bones.

⋆⋆⋆

It was the next day when you went to the small backyard to bring out the dried clothes when you spotted Isla walking with Mrs. Anne towards your house over the fence.

"(Y/N)?" Isla was the first to spot you and exclaim, which made you instantly glance back at the door of your house, even though he had gone out to the bar or somewhere, you still feared he might have returned.

"No--um-"

"Why haven't you been coming to school, dear? We thought you were sick." Your eyes caught Isla's over the heap of clothes you held in your arms. Her eyes held a different worry, a worry that indicated she might know the truth of your absence. A hint of guilt was also there, perhaps she blamed herself for that day, for begging you to walk back home.

"No-it's just I am fine and--actually there is a lot of work to do at home so, I thought, I'll continue the studies later." By now, both of them were standing near the fence where you had walked to near as well.

Mrs. Anne’s brow furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she studied your face. "That doesn’t sound right, dear. You’ve always loved school. Are you sure everything is okay?" Her tone was gentle, but you could feel the weight of suspicion in her words.

You nodded quickly, trying to keep your voice steady. "Yes, I’m sure. There’s just... a lot going on right now."

Isla's concern was more intense, her expression pinched with a guilt that made your chest tighten. "It’s because of that day, isn’t it? When I begged you to walk home with me? If I hadn’t asked, none of this would have happened-"

You shook your head, forcing a reassuring smile even though the mention of that day made your throat tighten. "No, Isla, it’s not your fault. Really, it’s just... family stuff. Arthur needs help with things."

You caught Isla’s gaze darting toward the house, where shadows loomed behind drawn curtains. Her voice softened. "We can help, you know. I can come by after school, or we can figure out a way for you to keep studying."

Your heart pounded, anxiety prickling at the back of your neck at the idea of Isla or Mrs. Anne stepping inside, seeing the reality you lived in. What if Arthur came back while they were here? What if he got angry at their intrusion?

"No, Isla, you don’t have to worry about me. Please, just... don’t."

Mrs. Anne’s concerned frown deepened. "Well, dear, if you change your mind, we’re always here to help." She glanced meaningfully between you and Isla. "And don’t forget, you have people who care about you."

You offered them a smile that felt more like a grimace, clutching the clothes to your chest as if they could shield you from their concern. "Thank you, Mrs. Anne, Isla. I appreciate it."

As they turned and walked away, you stood there by the fence, their kindness hanging in the air like a warning. You cast a nervous glance back at the door, still half-expecting Arthur to burst through, demanding to know why they were there, why they were asking questions. And as much as you wanted to believe in their words, you knew better than to let your guard down.

For now, keeping them away was the only way to protect them and yourself.

The next morning, Arthur makes his way into town, his mind already on the day’s jobs, the money he will bring home, and what might await him at Van der Linde's current camp. But as he slowly rides past the general store, he catches sight of Mrs. Anne standing outside, chatting with some of the older townsfolk. He hastened, hoping to slip past unnoticed, but she spotted him. Her expression shifts, and she steps forward, calling out to him with a voice that carries over the quiet street.

“Arthur, a word, if you’ve got a moment.”

He considers ignoring her, pretending he hasn’t heard, but he stops the horse nonetheless. Gritting his teeth, he turns and walks back, forcing a tight, hollow smile as he meets her gaze.

“What is it, Mrs. Anne?” His tone is mocking, his patience already wearing thin.

She looks him up and down, her expression a blend of concern and disapproval. “I saw (Y/N) yesterday when I visited. She looked... worn out. I asked why she hasn’t been to school, and she said she’s got too much work at home.”

Arthur’s smile drops, his jaw clenching hard enough to make his teeth ache. “That’s our business,” he says sharply, his voice carrying an edge of warning. “She’s got plenty to do at home right now."

Mrs. Anne’s expression softens, but it’s the kind of softness that only makes his anger spike. “Arthur, listen to me. She’s a bright girl with a future ahead of her. She doesn’t belong stuck at home doing chores. Don’t do this to her.”

Arthur steps closer, his eyes flashing dangerously, and lowers his voice to a harsh whisper. “You think you know what’s best for us? You don’t know a damn thing about what we need to survive. I’m the one responsible for her. I won’t let her wander around with empty dreams when there’s real work to be done. God knows what you are really teaching her, there. She studied enough.”

Mrs Anne stiffens at the tone of the large man but doesn’t back down. “What are you talking about!? I am teaching everyone the basics of life, what is needed to survive! What you’re doing is taking away her chance, Arthur. Your mother-”

He cuts her off, his voice dropping even lower, a dark snarl in his words. “Don’t you dare talk about her. This is my family now. I make the decisions, and she stays home where I can keep an eye on her.”

Mrs. Anne’s face tightens with frustration, but she knows better than to push him further. “I just hope you realize what you’re doing, Arthur,” she says, her voice barely a murmur as she steps back. “Before it’s too late.”

"Oh, you should be lucky your son is still alive. If I catch you or the girls from your school prancing around my house or near (Y/N)… trust me, you don't want that." He let his words hang in the air and watched as the older woman gulped, her face paling as she stumbled back, horror mixed with confusion in her wide eyes.

Arthur doesn’t respond. He turns on his heel and walks away to his horse, a cold, simmering rage coiling inside his chest. Her words hang in the back of his mind, a nagging echo that he shoves down with grim determination. He knows what’s best, he has to.

When he returns home that evening, the anger is still there, burning just beneath the surface. And the thought of you defying him, of sneaking around behind his back to talk to Mrs. Anne, only makes it worse. His footsteps are heavier than usual, each one sending a message through the quiet house that he’s not in the mood for any more surprises.

You peek out of your room, the creak of your door catching his attention. His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing.

"You just don't get it, do you? What did you do? Cry to her or somethin'?!"

You swallow hard, clutching the doorknob, ready to slam the door shut if things escalate. Although, aware he can break the door if he wants, anyway. How did he even find out? But fear keeps the question trapped in your throat.

"I didn't cry or say anything!" you manage, your voice having a hint of tremble.

He turns around with a grunt, a mocking smirk pulling at his lips. "Well, you must have acted all miserable. Sending people to speak on your behalf. Very clever." His tone is dripping with disdain, each word another stab, another false accusation.

You look away, biting down on your tongue to keep from snapping back, but he catches the tension in your jaw, his eyes glinting with something darker, more dangerous. He steps closer, his voice dropping low. "Do whatever you want, but my decision is final." The words are like a cold blade pressed against your neck.

He brushes past your room on the way to his, and your heart sinks as you hear the thud of his door slamming shut. You flinch, letting out a shaky sigh of relief. But as his words sink in, the temporary reprieve vanishes. You realize that waiting for things to change, waiting for Arthur to soften, to bring back the brother you once knew, it’s a hope that is growing colder by the day. And then there’s your father, the man who always seemed to carry his own storms. You imagine him alone, behind the bars of some cold cell, counting the days without a visit from his family, without even the knowledge that someone still cares. The thought makes your chest ache. Arthur’s rules and his threats, suffocate you, but you’ve reached a breaking point. If he refuses to let you see your father, then you’ll have to find a way yourself. It’s a risk, a dangerous one, but the image of your father sitting alone is more unbearable than the fear of Arthur’s wrath.

Part III

(AN: MEME DUMP cuz why not. Reader deserves it.)

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Yandere! Mirio Togata) Rejected Offer

Pairing: Dark/Yandere Mirio Togata x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

SUMMARY: Mirio doesn’t want you to accept an overseas job offer. You’re too weak to do anything but accept his decision.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Manipulation.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

You nervously bounce your leg as Mirio devours the huge plate of food you just warmed up for him.

Despite the late hour of the night, your hero boyfriend talks cheerfully, recounting all about his patrol’s details with enthusiasm. 

“...and then, I totally kicked their ass, you should've seen it. Nasty villains. They sure tried, but- Hey, are you okay?” he interrupts himself, large hand covering yours as he looks at you. 

He's finished eating, only crumbs left in his plate.

“Oh yeah, it’s nothing.” you lie. 

Mirio nods, glancing at the wall clock. 

“Oh geez, look at the time, will ya? It’s super late. You really shouldn't have stayed up waiting for me, sweetheart.” he exclaims, shaking his head. “You’re too good for me.”

Warmth fills your heart at those words and Mirio leans forward, pressing his lips to your own for a brief sweet kiss. 

You cling to him, supporting your hands on his firm chest. He parts the kiss and gives you a peck on the forehead, nuzzling the crown of your head. 

It’s a bit selfish for you to ruin this moment. 

The thought crosses your mind and for a second, you consider leaving the matter for tomorrow. Well, today but later - you correct yourself. 

Mirio is already tired and you don’t wanna stress him right now. 

The thick hesitation lingers around and it’s only when Mirio starts trying to move you to the bedroom with a sleepy yawn that your mind jumps to action.

“Mirio, I…” you tug on his sleeve for attention, heart beating impossibly faster, “...have to tell you something.”

“Remember I told you I was hoping to get that promotion in my job?” Mirio nods with much enthusiasm, and you can’t help the shy smile that tugs your lips. “Well, I-”

“You got it! I knew you’d get it! Smartest, most hard-working girl I know. I did tell ya you’d get it, didn’t I?” his voice booms without even letting you finish and you yelp with a chuckle when he raises you in his arms, peppering enthusiastic kisses all over your face as he spins you. 

Your head is spinning when Mirio finally puts you back on your feet and you feel insanely giddy with his reaction.

“We definitely have to celebrate this achievement. I’m so proud of you!” he kisses you, blue eyes lightening up with happiness. 

And then you remember the downside of the promotion and it sobers you up immediately, smile dying down a bit. 

“Well, there’s also a small detail about it…” you try to keep your voice steady, “The promotion…is for the department supervisor position. In the California branch.”

Mirio looks at you, happy face freezing. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” the unusual silence from Mirio is disconcerting and you awkwardly scratch your arm, “I know it’s a bit sudden but…we can make it work, right? It’s almost a 10 hours flight, sure, but we can video call whenever we can. Right?” 

You pleadingly look at him, waiting - hoping - for him to accept your decision. To melt his shock into a warm smile, to hug you again and reassure you that you’ll both be fine.

That you’ll indeed make it work. 

He doesn’t. 

“I don’t know.” 

It’s strange to see Mirio wearing that serious expression on his face and all of your tension returns with double force. 

“But- Mirio…” 

He inhales deeply, pressing his back to the counter. 

“Long-distance relationships are complicated. They barely ever last.” Mirio crosses his arms, shaking his head with a solemn hardness in his eyes.

“Just look at Tamaki and Nejire. They were so happy and in love. Then she went to Europe and not even two months later they broke up. They don’t even speak anymore and Takami is so heartbroken over her. I don’t want that to happen to us.” 

You stare at him, unsure of what to say. 

“But…I really want this promotion, Mirio.” 

It practically sounds like a pathetic whine and Mirio sighs, softly reaching for your hand. 

“I know you do, sweetheart, I know.” he soothes you, but the stiffness in his voice isn’t a positive sign. “And I love how career-driven you are. I respect that.”

A clear lie. 

“But we have to think about our future.” he says, “Think about the long-term perspective, babe. The bigger picture.”

Your face contorts at his words. You know where this is heading and it’s exactly what you’ve been fearing. 

“We’re practically engaged at this point and… to ruin what we have - our relationship - for something as frivolous as a promotion, for money, it isn’t worth it.”

Mirio sighs when you refuse to meet his eyes, your lower lip caught between your teeth to stop the tears that threaten to rise. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not trying to be mean here.” his hand drags up and down your arm in a comforting way, matching his apologetic tone.

“I’m just trying to do what’s best for us, as a couple. You understand that, don’t you?”

Part of you wants to become spiteful, to push him and his suffocating love away. Because it’s Mirio’s fault that you can barely accomplish anything productive in your life. 

But when you finally look at him, the big dark blue-eyes that look at you with a mix of sheer love and adoration, despite the concern that shades it.

It makes you feel ungrateful. Because Mirio is everything you don’t deserve. 

So you do the only thing you know how to do. You cave in to his wishes.

[imallyoursssss]

If he's not like this i don't want him >>>