#toxic romance

[atomicradiogirl]

it’s thinking about homeland hours i fear this show has never left my brain too bad it has no fandom except 1 reddit hater

[dorksiii]

Your Power

Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

The day was young, the sun having just reached its peak.

With nothing to hide its shining light from bathing over the restored Vanilla Kingdom.

Many Vanillian Citizens, as well as star struck tourists bustled its streets. happily embracing the warmth of the sun. All of them enjoyed the music, dances, and peaceful events that only the vanilla kingdom could offer.

Yet, as the citizens continued to enjoy the day, most of them remained blissfully unaware of the less than pleased cookies gathered at the top of the vanilla castle’s cone tower.

And at the top of the cone tower, famously known as The Council, resided three of the five most historic and heroic rulers of Crispia: Hollyberry Cookie, Pure Vanilla Cookie, and Dark Cacao Cookie. Along with the ancients also gathered the bravest gang of all Crispia: Gingerbrave Cookie, Strawberry Cookie, and lastly, Wizard Cookie.

The three, accompanied by the young, but brave cookies, gathered together on the council seats with the table covered in scrolls and books in an attempt to study, discuss and build a plan to traverse into Beast Yeast and stop Dark Enchantress Cookie.

The group of anxious and doubtful cookies hovered over the table conversing tiredly among one another. But they were soon startled into silence as Dark Cacao Cookie slammed his fist abruptly onto the table, resulting in a thunderous boom that echoed the room's walls.

A beat of silence followed, a sense of shock washing over everyone present. But before anyone could settle into their shock and quickly drift their attention from Dark Cacao to gauge the rest of the room's reaction, Dark Cacao spoke.

“We have been here for hours and all we have ever done is go in circles! These useless scrolls and books which crumbly mention Beast-Yeast aren't helping us form a plan.” He roared.

But as quickly as his outburst came, the cacao king let out an exhausted sigh and all but sat back down. He takes a moment of silence to assess the problem, rubbing the bridge of his nose and eyes tiredly. Looking directly onto the group's undivided attention, before making his next move.

He raises his hand to gesture at every useless piece of paper laid across the table “These scrolls and maps that only hold a fleeting mention of Beast-Yeast, if we are so lucky as to even come across such knowledge, serves NOTHING to us and will only further tire our time and energy in completing this mission” He gruffly says.

Dark Cacao soon turns his head to look at Pure Vanilla Cookie, whose face expresses concern.

“Pure Vanilla Cookie, we three have never set foot onto Beast Yeast. Our time then had never demanded it.” He sighs, eyes flicking to graze over everyone present.

“Still, to my knowledge, there was only one of us who ever faced Beast-Yeast, and to my knowledge, resided there until her fall.” Dark Cacao took a pause of silence, silently bracing himself to what he will soon ask of his old Vanilian friend and ally.

Yet, catching onto what Dark Cacao Cookie will ask of Pure Vanilla Cookie, Hollyberry quickly stands from her seat and interrupts.

“Dark Cacao Cookie! You cannot possibly be suggesting-” She shouted, but stopped, as Dark Cacao cookie raised a hand in silent demand for her to sit and listen to what he had to say first.

With a bit of hesitance, she sits down again.

“I propose we find the whereabouts of White Lily Cookie. If I recall correctly, she was there by our side to fight head on with Dark Enchantress Cookie. And as we three, along with Golden Cheese Cookie, still live and breathe today, so must she. She can help guide us to our mission into Beast-Yeast.”

Hollyberry Cookie pauses as she tries to find her words. A moment passes before finally she speaks, albeit calmer than her previous words. "Though that may be true, none of us knows where she is. All three of us have either forgotten, left the throne, or shut ourselves out from the rest of the world for thousands of years!”

Her cries fill the room, and Dark Cacao sighs a moment later, “It seems to be the only option for us right now.”

He looks down and rubs the bridge of his nose again. Hollyberry grits her teeth in thought, glancing down at the books and scrolls again, hoping to find an answer other than the wild goose chase Dark Cacao was offering.

“There- there must be another way…” She muttered, slumping in her seat with an equally exhausted sigh.

Meanwhile the three young cookies were unsure of how they’d step in. So the bravest of the bunch stepped closer.

Gingerbrave offers a comforting smile to the room, momentarily slicing the ancients' depleted mood, “c’mon! Let’s not think negatively about the future! I’m sure with everyone's help this will go fine!” He spoke with such enthusiasm, something he somehow managed to keep despite all the horrors he’s gone through.

Horrors someone his age shouldn’t even be able to imagine. The rest of the room couldn’t really hold it against him, seeing as he was the one of the only to actually have unyielding faith in the three.

Pure Vanilla, who had stayed silent for the entirety of this outburst, finally speaks with a calm and resonant tone.

“Gingerbrave and Dark Cacao both have a point.” Hollyberry clicks her tongue disapprovingly, before Pure Vanilla continues. “But, so does Hollyberry…We… We can’t know for certain. And trying to find her would be like trying to find the finest needle in a haystack, and we don't have the luxury of time on our side.”

Everyone quiets down, sharing their own looks. That…was reasonable, yes. But counterproductive, as it just pushes them back to their previous bout of quiet muttering and arguing.

Except, this time only the three ancients go back to their aimless bickering and planning. The younger cookies all share a knowing look, before Wizard Cookie decides to step in. Surprising Gingerbrave and Strawberry Cookie who had been in their own head.

All three of them having been thinking exactly the thing Wizard Cookie very loudly proclaims.

“If I may…We should check the academy…”

The ancients all visibly pause, before their eyes, and Pure Vanilla’s staff’s eye, fall onto the tiny wizard. Who shrinks in on himself upon the whole of the room's attention.

“The academy?” Dark Cacao’s gruff voice repeats, a hand placed absentmindedly under his chin.

“A-ah yes. AHEM! The- the blueberry yogurt academy.” Wizard Cookie manages to spit out the nervous lump in his throat, as he slightly shuffles closer to Gingerbrave and Strawberry for any sort of support.

Which they give, albeit not in the way he wanted. As they encouragingly pat his shoulder, gently ushering him to continue.

Luckily the kind vanillian king speaks up instead.

“Well, she did spend a lot of time at the academy during our younger days- but! That changed when she…” Pure Vanilla pauses, biting his lip. Before letting the next words die on his tongue, since everyone in the room was already quite aware of what had happened.

“But I don’t see her ever wanting to spend her time there again.” He concluded, folding his trembling hands in his lap. There’s a bit of uncomfortable silence, before Wizard Cookie is yet again ushered to speak.

“W-well you see…Last time we were there we…Saw a manifestation of her memories?” He glances over his shoulder at his nodding friends, the ancient’s stare in shock. So he quickly adds on.

“And-! So…So maybe if we find that memory. It might know where the real White Lily is?”

Pure Vanilla Cookie softly hums and gently rubs his hand in careful thought. So there is a possibility she might be in the academy after all. But why? Could it be because of the memories he and white lily cookie shared? Like the research lab they have worked together in discovering the meaning of cookie life?... Or is it something else? Something… powerful that ties White Lily Cookie there?

Pure vanilla, after some more careful consideration, looks up to the trio, then to his friends, speaking calmly.

“My friends,” he started, standing up slowly. Making sure the room's attention drifted towards him. “Dark Cacao, Ginger Brave, and Wizard Cookie have given great arguments"

The table shares glances.

“And with how we stand, we need all the help we can get. And I believe that can start with going to the Blueberry Yogurt Academy.”

He taps the end of his staff into the floor, his hand is placed atop the many scattered papers littering the table. The braille was a bit worn down, but readable.

“So I've made up my mind.” His eyes open, his vision blurry, but he sends a determined look to the table.

“I will go to the Blueberry Yogurt Academy and find White Lily Cookie!”

Gingerbrave cheered him on, “and we're coming with you!”

Pure Vanilla pauses, before his jaw slacks and his eyes shift to the younger cookies as if what they just said was absurd- which it was…

“W-what??”

“We’re coming with you!” Gingerbrave repeated with more enthusiasm, not quite understanding why his declaration was met with such surprise.

Was he and his friends not the ones to have traveled far and wide? Helping the ancients in various things?

And they were the ones who offered to go in the first place, why wouldn’t they come with?

Pure Vanilla closes his eyes, sighing tiredly. He should’ve expected this, it was… Natural, for them. He gives the children a gentle smile, trying to discourage them.

“Oh, I’m sorry friends, but I do not think that’ll be the best course of action for you three to take.” He explains, raising a hand to stop them from trying to add on anything as he continues.

“Me and the others have realized we’ve been depending on you three too much. And-… That is not right.” The vanilla king takes a deep breath, avoiding the small beady eyes of the three. Because he’s sure if he catches just a glimpse of those betrayed gazes, he’d fold like a rag.

“I'm doing this on my own. Seeing as I, out of everyone here, knows the academy layout best.” He sighs in relief as he gets it out, and for a moment he believes his point has been perfectly understood by everyone. Sure, maybe the kids would argue, but- he’d stand firm in his choice.

But what he wasn’t expecting was for Hollyberry to click her tongue disapprovingly.

“While I agree that we shouldn’t be sending children around doing work, these three have proven to be quite efficient.” Pure Vanilla yet again finds himself with his jaw slack.

“A-ah- Hollyberry Cookie, I don’t-” from the other end of the table Dark Cacao speaks up.

“She has a point.”

“Dark Cacao Cookie!” Pure Vanilla opens his eyes again, looking back and forth between the two as if they’ve gone mad.

“Pure Vanilla Cookie,” Hollyberry starts, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It will be easier if they come with you.” She argues, with Dark Cacao nodding along.

Dark Cacao clears his throat, sending a glance at the younger cookies. “If they follow, they can show you where they saw… Her. Rather than wasting your time searching.”

Pure Vanilla was still gobsmacked, clearly not expecting his own friends to not side with him.

“B-but! We- I.” He bit his lower lip. “I don’t want them to continue with such dangerous adventures!” He stressed, his hand sliding up his face, messing up his bangs.

Hollyberry gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze, “do not fret, friend! I am sure they’ll be fine under your care.” His staff’s flower sends her an inquisitive glance, before narrowing.

“I- yes, but-” he looks up, staring at the three children. And his shoulders sag, eyes closing as he sighs. He really didn’t want to, but… He’s sure he can care for them… Right?

“...Very well…” He deflates in his seat, listening to the enthused celebration of the three.

Hollyberry squeezes his shoulder again, leaning closer and whispering.

“It’ll be fine.” She tells him, and he wants to believe her. But he can’t shake the growing feeling in his gut, the feeling something will go terribly wrong.

—-

As soon as the plan was set to visit the abandoned blueberry academy preparations started, it took a day from packing to actually getting the hot air balloon ready. Gingerbrave, Strawberry, Wizard and Pure Vanilla Cookie set out into the air as quickly as possible.

But not before saying their goodbyes, various cookies of the kingdom came to see them off.

“Don’t worry everyone! We’ll take good care of Pure Vanilla Cookie!” Gingerbrave yelled as the hot air balloon left the harbor. Waving excitedly to the group of cookies that just got smaller, and smaller the further up the balloon flew.

Pure Vanilla breathed a quiet laugh.

“Woaahh! Flying never gets boring even after the hundredth time!” He smiled, leaning over the ledge as Pure Vanilla’s hand instinctively places itself on the young cookies back. Just as a precaution.

“Gingerbrave, don’t lean too far over the edge, you might fall!” Wizard Cookies scolded, before continuing to reorganize his bag.

“Ah-! Sorry…” The brave child muttered, leaning away from the edge to the relief of everyone. But his dampened mood quickly brightens as he sits beside his friends and starts talking.

The journey was going smoothly so far, and sure enough they were greeted by a warm night, the three cookies' moods remained high, as they laughed and chatted. And the only thing keeping Pure Vanilla from panicking was their high ground giving them safety from potential enemies.

He indulged in their chatter, laughing along to a couple of stories and jokes. But there was a remaining edge to his words, as the kids fell asleep he remained awake. Staring out across the dark forests below. Almost akin to an endless sea of black, with the occasional clearing. He stared as if the trees would reach up and crush them if he didn’t keep watch.

He assumed there’d be animals, but despite his poor vision, he could feel the choking sense of loneliness.

The forests felt emptier the further they got to the academy, it wasn’t quiet. But the noise felt almost artificial to him, like a repeated vinyl put out specifically to simulate a lively forest.

There- nocturnals don’t imitate noise, right?

No, what was he talking about? Of course they do but- they can’t see them- no… The animals are just oddly silent. He took a deep breath, leaning his staff against the edge as he wiped his sweaty palms off on his robes.

He momentarily stares at the three sleeping bundles, he relaxes, they are… Safe with him.

Nothing would hurt them… His shoulders sag, his gut wrenching momentarily stopping, before he flinches as he realizes he left the forest unguarded. He hastily went to the edge of the air balloon, looking back down.

“...”

Nothing…

Just a normal forest meets his eyes. He sighed exasperatedly, wondering if he should be happy. Or concerned that a “real” forest could feel so fake.

The eye was stuck on the ground below, a relaxed droop in its gaze. He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he let the staff continue looking. Getting comfortable in a spot where he could still watch.

“It is quiet, isn't it?” Pure Vanilla tried to laugh, but it was weak, barely above a whisper. The staff, his oldest companion, looked at him blankly. Its eye closing briefly in acknowledgement, before opening to continue staring at the ground below.

His smile disappeared as he sagged, resting his chin atop his folded arms. The already blurry forest becomes nothing but a meaningless blur. His eyes grew heavy, but he kept them peeled.

And when he opens his eyes again the sun is blaring back from over the horizon. He pauses, before gasping as he stands up abruptly. Shaking his staff awake to get a clear look on the now bright forest.

“Uh- hey Pure Vanilla Cookie?” Wizard Cookie, who had woken up minutes ago, called from behind him. But he wasn’t fully listening, too busy intently watching over the forest.

Sighing in relief when he didn't see any threats.

“P-Pure Vanilla Cookie!” Strawberry also yelled from behind him, he gave a tired hum in response. Rubbing his eyes with his palm.

“Yeah?” He yawned, happy to see no haunted trees reaching out for them-

“PURE VANILLA-!” He barely had time to turn for Gingerbraves yelling when the air balloon shakes as it hits… Something.

He turns around hastily, and… They’d hit a large tree.

“Oh.” It’s all he can say before the basket they’re in plunges down. He hastily grabs hold of his companions, ducking down to shield them from the impact.

Which happens quickly as the deflated balloon catches on the tree’s branches. The abrupt stop slams Pure Vanilla down into the basket's bottom.

He bites back a grunt, relaxing his arms as the kids slowly slide off to his sides. Looking frazzled. He sits, checking the kids to see if they are okay. Before trailing a hand down his back. Silently wincing as he feels a sore spot, which is most definitely becoming a bruise.

“Pure Vanilla Cookie! Are you okay?” Gingerbrave asks, reaching a hand out, which is smoothly avoided by the king. Who offers a bright smile.

“Yes! Thank you, I’m just… Dazed.” His grip on his staff shakes, but he keeps himself steady as he stands on shaky knees. The kids all gather around him, asking various questions. All which he avoids in fear of concerning them.

The words, “I’m fine” "I'm okay” “it’s alright.” Become some of the only things his tongue can produce for a good minute before the kids move on to the next problem.

“I hope the gnomes aren’t upset about the balloon.” Gingerbrave comments, looking over the basket's edge. Causing it to sway, Pure Vanilla would’ve fell over if his staff didn't assist him.

The rest of the balloon's ropes rips as the basket falls the rest of the way down, causing everyone to fall off balance with a surprised yell.

“Ow-!” Strawberry huffs, before looking over at her friends in worry. “Is everyone sure they’re alright…?” She mutters, Wizard Cookie grunted, before clicking his tongue.

“I think we have worse things to think about…” Wizard commented after the second crash, adjusting his hat and half-melted hair.

The rest of the group looked up at Wizard Cookie in confusion before quickly noting the pack of snarling cakehounds surrounding them, all ready to pounce.

“Everyone stay behi-!” Pure Vanilla shouted, before noticing the trio readily stood in front of him with weapons at the ready.

“Don't worry, Pure Vanilla! We got your back!” Gingerbrave exclaimed. Strawberry and Wizard Cookie both yelled in agreement.

After a few minutes, the fight had been won quickly by Pure Vanilla’s magic, yet it left everyone breathless.

“Is everyone alright!?” Pure Vanilla Cookie shouted as he swiftly recovered from the fight, running to the huddled group of wincing cookies.

“We’re fine! Ngh-” Gingerbrave painfully called out, cupping his right side in pain after a particular cake hound charged at him.

“Y-Yes we’re okay!” Strawberry shouted, wincing at the bruise forming on her head, caused by tripping over the quick-footed one.

“Never been better!” Wizard exclaimed, trying his best to pick out the branches and leaves sticking onto him and his beloved hat. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault, he just got caught in the crossfire.

Pure Vanilla panickedly set down his staff to closely examine their wounds. “This is my fault” He stressed. “I shouldn’t have agreed to let you join, you should be at the kingdom, safe and sound, not here!”

The three cookies, seeing their friend in distress, quickly interrupted him.

“H-Hey! This is not your fault!” Strawberry said. Offering soothing back rubs to the cookie.

“Yeah! It was our choice to be here! To help and explore together!” Ginger brave quickly added in. Smiling reassuringly at Pure Vanilla.

“We are still here! Alive and un-crumbled. We can handle ourselves” Wizard huffed. “If anything, we should be worried about you,” Wizard Cookie muttered but was soon firmly hit by strawberry cookie. He winced in pain and shot her a look “what? It's true!"

Pure Vanilla Cookie relaxed from the affirmations, shoulders momentarily falling and head slumping down. “You three should not be here” He softly muttered. “I know my way around the academy. I have been there before, and know it like the back of my staff.” He looked up to them, opening his eyes to give a pleading look. “Please, we still have time for me to teleport you three back, it is not too late.”

The three worriedly shared a look before firmly responding.

“We’re sorry, Pure Vanilla Cookie!” GingerBrave spoke, unmoving in his tone. “But when we said we are coming with you.. We meant that we ARE coming with you. Like Wizard Cookie said, we can handle ourselves!”

“Yes, I did say that, did you… Not just see us help you fight those cakehounds off?” Wizard questioned with squinting eyes.

Pure Vanilla sighed defeatedly, before nodding. “ Ah yes, I did… Apologies…” The healer took a deep breath. “Alright. We must get going.”

Gingerbrave and Strawberry Cookie sprang up in enthusiasm, while Wizard Cookie stood up more slowly. Taking his time to brush off his robes and scarf, before he pauses as his hand slides over his pocket.

“Eureka!” Wizard Cookie exclaimed as he took out a compass mysteriously from his cloak. “We still have the compass to guide us into the ghost town!” His previously narrowed eyes changed to convey his happiness.

“Then we’ll get going!” Gingerbrave declared, raising his still intact candy cane. The two other children nodded, before they started following Wizard Cookie.

The forest wasn’t as dangerous as Pure Vanilla could’ve expected. Sure, the occasional cake hound jumped out at them for stepping a little too close to their nest or food storage. But Pure Vanilla used his magic to send the things flying off before the kids could even reach for their own weapons.

Yet, the constant use of magic was draining him, but his reluctance to not let the kids get hurt fueled him on.

Fortunately, they made it into town before he had the chance to faint. The inhabitants of the town didn’t look familiar to him, but the kids seemed awfully friendly with some of the ghosts. Pure Vanilla hovered tiredly behind the three as they talked with different stall owners.

They were asking about White Lily, and he wanted to step in to talk for them. But that would break his focus, causing the shield he had secretly placed around them to break.

That however didn’t stop them from running around to get to their destination, something Pure Vanilla was absolutely exhausted of. Yet he didn’t say anything, only running after.

By the time they’d gotten to the water’s, Pure Vanilla’s shield had worn off. And he felt awful as the three fought off wisps, sure, he healed any bruise they got. But he felt bad, even despite his exhaustion having him hanging onto his staff like it’s a lifeline.

The ferryman kept cracking bad puns as they walked after, Wizard Cookie was very obviously not amused as the skeleton kept laughing at his own jokes.

Pure Vanilla appreciated the distraction, and he found the jokes ‘rib-tickling’ funny… As the ferryman had commented when he chuckled at a particularly bad pun. Much to the surprise and exasperation of Wizard Cookie.

Upon finally arriving at the academy entrance, the group all shared tired sighs and pants. But Ginger Brave, Strawberry, and Wizard Cookie could forgive it when they were given some yummy ice cream by a kind ghost that had seen their fighting. Pure Vanilla had declined one himself, he couldn’t stomach the idea of eating at the moment.

He rubbed at his eyes again, feeling the heaviness, the eyebags, but he was determined to keep going. The four cookies had finally made it to the gate, finally!

With the three energetic as ever, and Pure Vanilla exhausted, they approach.

His assisting eye was glued on the other side of the gate. Staring at the familiar garden visible through the gates metal fence. It gave him energy… See? He told himself, it worked out well… The kids only have a scratch or two on them-! It’ll be fine…

The gatekeeper was still as indescribable as the young cookies remember, why the ghost even still guarded the gate when they could be walked through was beyond the three. But Pure Vanilla wanted to stay civil, so he tried to talk things out with the keeper. Before Wizard Cookie waved the end of his wand through the ghost. Causing them to get flustered and disappear.

And so they had successfully made it to the academy’s entrance. They set off to continue their journey now passing through the abandoned garden. But as the group passed through said garden for the building's main doors, Pure Vanilla couldn't help himself.

He stopped, staring upon its moss stained windows and vine covered structure, his heart feeling a bit heavy.

After all these years, he still couldn’t believe he once studied under this academy’s guiding hands. Its once glorious walls now cracked, dulled, infested with plants of all sorts.

This is what became of such a beautiful place…

This is the effect.. the evidence of how far a cookie still dear to him was willing to go. And all of it for what? Freedom? Pure Vanilla almost chuckled at that. The irony of it all. Chasing freedom for cookie kind but trapping and enslaving a handful in the process.

Either way, he can’t help but feel responsible for it. He should’ve- no. Could’ve done more.

If he had stepped in..

If he had stopped her…

If he had- he resurfaced from his mind as a hand grabs ahold of his. The staff, once transfixed on the old building, looks down, allowing him to see Gingerbraves trusting smile.

Yes, that's right… they've put their trust in him… and so he'll do his best to prove they did the right thing. So he, along with Gingerbrave, Wizard Cookie and Strawberry Cookie take the first step.

Walking up to the front door, he reached a shaky hand out. The knob was old and rusted, so it took some force to pry it open. But with a sharp tug the door creaked open, and he froze again, the children tried to move. But also stopped as they realized he wasn’t moving.

He looked… Bewildered? Horrified? Both?

They all follow his gaze into the academy, it’s the same as the last time they were here?

“O-oh-? Sorry…” Pure Vanilla mutters, realizing he’d been stalling. He sent the hallway ahead of him another cautious stare. He must've been imagining whatever that was.

Walking inside, his footsteps echo on the concrete floor. The children send him some pitying glances, and he bites his lower lip.

Silently cursing himself for worrying them, but he doesn’t say anything. Fearing it’ll only make it worse, or simply backfire with them asking him more questions. And he was awfully tired.

But, fate seems to be cruel today, as the moment they turn the first corner, a hoard of… Clouds? Catch sight of them, and despite their adorable appearances. They seem less than happy about their arrival as they charge in to attack.

“Oh- not those again!” Gingerbrave deflates, before readily grabbing his candy cane.

“Okay! On my mark we- huh?” A bright light momentarily blinds everyone, and when they open them again they’re in some strange hallway filled with paintings that almost feel alive.

“W-what?!” It’s a collective choir of surprise, as the three young cookies look around dazed. Wizard Cookie is the first to say something.

“Curses… We must’ve stepped on an enchanted tile or something!” He huffed, eyebrows furrowing.

“I-I don’t remember that being there last time we were here?” Strawberry Cookie questions aloud, tugging the strings of her hoodie.

“There aren’t.” Pure Vanilla stoically responds, his back to the three as his hand trembles. His dough looks much paler than before, and his breathing is labored.

“Uhm- Pure Vanilla Cookie? A-are you okay?” Gingerbrave asks, stepping a bit closer to get a better look. Before grimacing, as the younger cookie reaches out a hand. “You don't look so good…”

“You’re so pale…” Strawberry comments, eyes drooping in worry as she also moves closer. Last comes Wizard Cookie, who places a hesitant hand on the ancient’s trembling wrist.

“Why?” The intelligent cookie gritted, and Pure Vanilla’s eyes flicker to him briefly in confusion, before closing again, he responded with a hum as his head started to hurt.

“Hm?”

“Was this teleportation thing… Your doing?” Wizard continues to prod, eyes narrowing suspiciously. There wasn’t a response, Pure Vanilla looked so lost. Eyes unfocused and half closed, beads of sweat forming on his face.

“Pure Vanilla cookie?” Strawberry silently calls out, hesitantly tugging on his robe to try and snap him out of it.

“I-”

“You’ve been acting strange for a while now.” Wizard accuses, taking a step forward. This causes a ripple effect as Pure Vanilla stumbles a bit to step back as he straightens his posture.

“I- I have?” Pure Vanilla’s eyes snap open, a hand squeezing his staff until it sends him a pained glare in return. He doesn’t know quite why it shocks him so, maybe because he was called out for it? Or because he himself wasn’t realizing that he was doing it?

“Yes.” Wizard barks, eyes narrowing.

There’s an uncomfortable laugh from the side as Gingerbrave cautiously steps in.

“Wizard Cookie! You’re being a little pushy-”

“You were thinking it too!” Wizard interrupts, not once breaking his gaze from the older cookie.

“Tell me,” he clicks his tongue, and Pure Vanilla nods. “Do you trust us?” Everyone pauses, before all eyes turn to Pure Vanilla. Who’s busy trying not to let his mind seize function.

“I- yes, of course-” “no, you don’t.” It’s a sharp cut, not very precise but it stops Pure Vanilla in his tracks.

Snap.

“What?” Pure Vanilla almost chokes on his breathing, pausing as he looks at the other two cookies. But they’re avoiding his eye contact, both seemingly deep in thought.

“I-... Wizard Cookie’s right…” Gingerbrave mutters, rubbing at his arm.

Pure Vanilla gulps, turning to Strawberry Cookie. Who was looking anywhere but his direction.

Snap.

Pure Vanilla didn't know what to say, didn't know how to deal head on with his opinion towards the cookie’s feelings.

“I…Apologize..” He mutters, but Wizard Cookie wouldn’t take that answer.

“Are you really? Or is that another shallow truth?”

Snap.

“What-! No! I wouldn’t-” He pauses, noting something… Peculiar about their eyes.

“Wouldn’t…What? Lie?”

Snap.

Pure Vanilla’s breathing caught in his throat, and his eyes closed in shame. He… He wasn’t a liar… He was the holder of the light of truth… Lying… No, he couldn’t… All this avoidance isn't… Lying-!

It’s a… Protection! And… It’s not like there is no truth in his words… That.. makes it okay, right?

…

What.

What. What was he thinking?! No, that’s… That is lying isn't it?

But… He… Hasn’t lied before has he? He… How many times has he done this?

And if he has… Is this souljam truly his?

Maybe he should give it back to-

He looked up at the cookies surrounding him, and he noticed something… A blue mist? No. He looked between the cookies, staring straight at something- no, someone else. Another…Cookie..?

Those eyes...That…Hair!

Pure Vanilla gasped in realization, heart leaping out his chest to his brain. Causing him to yell out with as much might as someone with his energy level could.

“White Lily Cookie!!”.

The trio, upon hearing Pure Vanilla’s shout, snapped out of their moment of anger, to instead look behind them.

The three gasped as they also saw the familiar cookie.

“It's White Lily Cookie!” The children shouted, a shared surprise washing away almost all of their previous negativity… Almost.

They briefly looked back at Pure Vanilla Cookie, “we’ll continue this after,” Wizard muttered with a furrowed brow, his friends agreeing, albeit with more reserved and unreadable faces.

The healer nodded absentmindedly, eyes still glued to the ghost of his old friend. And he only snapped out his entrancement when the three started running after the cookie ghost. Causing it to move out of his sight.

The ancient quickly pushed himself from his spot. Starting to follow them, but he was tired, and hadn’t yet recovered from his previous use of magic. So in this weakened state he stumbles and trips on his robes.

Hastily trying to stomp on solid ground to regain his balance. Yet, instead of doing so, he missteps on a loose, crumbling tile as it slips like butter beneath him.

And falls.

Now, the events that unfolded were indeed unfortunate, but he fleetingly notices his staff’s eye looking at him with such wicked glee. However he doesn’t quite catch its expression in time before he loses his grip around it, as he falls into a hole that had been hidden by some overgrown shrubs growing from cracks in the wall. And suddenly darkness greets him like an ice cold bath.

He shouts, or he assumes he does, the shock more so makes him gasp. And he presumes some form of a yell might’ve come out as he felt his lungs squeeze painfully. Either way, his sudden disappearance goes unnoticed by the three running cookies.

At some point he assumes the hole is endless, until he roughly slams onto a cold stone floor. He gasps, sharp pain immediately surging across his whole body. Trying to pull himself back up he can only see darkness, and as he tries to reach for his staff, even more darkness.

“Mrgh-!” His left side burnt with pain, having absorbed most of the impact. His eyes stung, with tears of pain or exhaustion, he wasn’t quite sure.

But as his hand continues to roam over the cold floor, he notices- a blur…

Although a mere light at first. He notes how it grows closer, a cookie? Their body is almost a beacon of light. Is it really another cookie? But who? It couldn’t be White Lily, this cookie’s gaze was too… Intrigued?

Why- who is- his body and mind shuts down before he can come to any conclusion. It had finally registered the impact.

That, mixed with his exhaustion, makes it a short battle.

A battle which he shamefully loses.

But before his mind had completely gone unconscious, he heard something, his souljam’s sharp voice.

"Wake up soon, holder of the light of truth, she needs you.."

Thud!

After 2 months brainstorming, planning, writing, and ultimately uploading the first chapter is FINALLY here! Honorable mention to the people who encouraged me to take the leap in making my first fanfic, and SUPER honorable mention and love to @bemyemxx for offering to spend their time with me to make it possible. Matter of fact, this fanfic wouldnt even be uploaded today if it wasn't for them, so as much as this book is mine, it is also theirs for contributing their ideas and writing skills to make this chapter reach it's potential! So a big bear hug and thank you pookie! Here is to writing another chapter and more with you! ❤️ Enjoy everybody and let us know what you all think!

[the-bar-sinister]

I adore toxic relationship stories. Stories where the love is there, and it's absolute poison to everyone involved.

Stories about people who love one another completely and desperately, yet are so deeply flawed as people that they each drag one another down, and make one another into their worst selves.

Stories where the characters are full of romance, and love and joy, and that love somehow turns everything around them into an emotional blasted wasteland.

[yanderes-for-everyone]

Title: My Charming Neighbor Has a Secret

Synopsis:

One day Fujiko gets a new neighbor. He's perfect! He's handsome, generous, and cool. They eventually start having beers every day on their terrace and occasionally he eats dinner at her place. Eventually, she finds out that he likes her and they kiss; what a dream come true. Fujiko enters his house and finds out that he has pictures all over his wall of her, has collected her trash, and keeps a diary of all of her actions. Will she be able to accept him, even though he is her stalker?

My Thoughts:

For those that like a more classic, more unhinged style of yandere, this is for you. He's pretty crazy. He had stalked her 5 years before moving in to the apartment beside her.

The fl is also sorta crazy lmao. She does end up dating and marrying him. I really like this one, because usually the fl doesn't end up the yandere if his actions are this severe. I love happy endings.

I don't see how you could go wrong with this one.

Yandere Rating*: 9/10

Overall Rating: 8/10

*This means the yandere's overall intensity

[savage-sinister]

partner just handed me the phrase "toxic service top" and it's never going to leave my vocabulary.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Hit List pt. 2

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Pairing: Jason Todd/Red Hood X (f)reader

Tags: NSFW, toxic romance,dark romance, dark Jason, psychotic Jason, mean Jason, brain-washing, violence, Jason's death, threatening, stalking, intimidation, blackmail, unethical behavior, mafia au, exes, assassination, semi-public sex, fingering, kissing, love confessions, mourning, ruined orgasms.

The door opening snapped you out of your concentration. Your head shot up, eyes wide with surprise as the imposing figure in the red helmet stepped into your lab. Then your heartbeat froze as you recognized the terrifying figure you've been seeing on the news for the past month. The red hood - the crime lord of Gotham - was in your lab.

"Uh... can I help you?" you asked, your voice wary.

The red hood sweeped the room. You shifted uncomfortably.

“I’ve got some questions,” his low baritone was distorted through the modulator.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ Six Years Prior◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Jason lay on the warehouse floor, his Robin suit was torn around different parts, the exposed skin under it seeping blood onto the cold floor. Speaking of cold, Jason was pretty sure he was going to die here.

Yeah... asking Batman to let him patrol alone was just another notch down the line of Jason's cocky mistakes. But after doing it for so long, being Robin has become a second nature. He could beat up henchmen with his eyes closed and his arms tied. So, of course, he thought he could handle Joker alone to save his mother. Hell, he might have even stood a chance, but the moment he'd entered the Joker’s hideout, some familiar scent hit him, and Jason became numb in an instant.

Joker had been at it for so long that the boy should no longer register the pain from the crowbar. Only... he did. He felt every cut, hit, punch, every bruising hit.

Joker needn't have bothered with the gag, Jason lost his voice from screaming a while ago.

The newly carved "J" scar on his cheek hurt like a bitch.

"Well? Looks like bats are going to be late to save ya, kiddo." Joker laughed. "Bad traffic, I guess."

Jason didn't bother talking. Too exhausted. Everything after that was blacked out. Then he stopped breathing.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Jason was in excruciating pain. He was losing his mind. All of the hurt from his torture, from the explosion that followed, attacked his senses all at once.

He was in Ra’s al Ghul’s hidden stronghold, recovering from his resurrection. The room was dimly lit, incense filling in the air as Jason lay on a cold stone slab, his body wracked with phantom pain from his death. Ra’s entered and stood beside him, offering him water and speaking with a calculated gentleness. "You’ve been through a lot, Jason. The cruelty of this world knows no bounds."

Jason spoke with a hoarse "Bruce… Did he…?"

Ra’s tone stayed calm. "Save you? He didn’t even try."

Jason struggled to sit up, his face contorted in confusion. "No. I dont believe you. He would have… he he’s my fath-"

Ra’s directed Jason’s attention to a screen showing pictures of batman running side by side with... Robin, "While you were rotting in a shallow grave, your so-called father was playing hero with the one who replaced you."

Jasons tone was angry yet desperate as tears filled his vision. "No. He wouldn’t - he didn’t forget me."

But seeing the images of the boy in the Robin suit, he shut his mouth.

Jason recalled moments of Bruce’s kindness - of patching him up after a rough mission, smiling at him when Jason mastered a new skill or got an award at school. "He saved me before. He would’ve done if he could-"

"But he didn’t, young one." Ras said. "I did. Who truly values you, Jason? The one who abandoned you to die or the one who gave you your life back?"

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Jason's breathing quickened as his fists pounded the hanging punching bag in Al Ghul’s dojo.

He had overheard an exchange between Ra's and his daughter. The topic of which was Batman, a word which recently became a trigger to him.

Jason continued olbiterating the punching bag, which had tore open where his fists landed, mixing with his bloody knuckles.

I wasn’t worth the risk? I was his son! How could he-how could he just let me die?!

Ra’s placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder making him stop his movements. "Its difficult to cope. You were nothing more than a soldier to him. A pawn in his war. But to me, you are a warrior. A leader."

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

"We found this in your bloodstream the night you were killed." Thalia Al Ghul held up a vial of clear liquid. Jason nodded, hunched over a table with his shirt pulled over. A medic was stiching up a nasty gash he got from a recent mission.

"It's relatively new," she continued. "Not FDA approved. Not even patented. But my men tracked it to a lab in Gotham University. It matches the research on several Academic papers published by a PHD student."

Jason frowned at the colorless liquid, hissing against the anchoring pain of the stitching. "What is it?"

"It's basic form blocks pain receptors. Joker played around with it and manipulated the chemical to immobilize people by overstimulating their nervous systems. It can cause a hallucinatory haze, so they're unable to defend themselves. Sound familiar?" She asked.

Jason ground his teeth and nodded, recalling how disoriented and agonized he felt during his torture.

Then, another memory surfaced his mind. One rainy day at school, when talking to you about your lab research.

"Im calling it 'Chill Mist,'" you said, proudly holding up a vial. "It'll be a breakthrough in healthcare, Jay. It blocks pain receptors and induces a calming state. For when people undergo trauma or surgery." You explained excitedly, spraying a bit of it in the air for him to smell.

"What's the name of the student working on it?" Jason's tone was grave when he asked Talia.

He anticipated the name before Thalia spoke it, but it didn't prepare him from the painful stab of betrayal in his chest.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Raw anger fueled him as Jason stared at the limp body of his duel oponent lying lifeless at his feet.

Ra’s clapped proudly once. "See what you’re capable of? This is just the beginning, Jason. You will become unstoppable."

Jason stared at the blood on his hands, the sword shaking in his grip.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ Six Years Later ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Dmitry, a lower level henchman in the Russian mafia, sat across the table from the red hood, swallowing thickly. He felt for his gun in his holster and was relieved it was still there.

He's heard stories about the Red Hood from rival gangs, and he damn near shit his pants sitting across from him now. Worse, so when the man finally spoke, addressing him in his native language. "Привет Дима," (hello, Dima)

Dima looked around himself nervously, wondering why he was here instead of his boss. "Г-где Сергей?" (Where's Sergey?)

"Сергея больше нет. C сегодняшнего дня, я твой новый бос. Продолжим на английском. "(Sergey no longer exists. Starting today, im your new boss.We're gonna continue this conversation in English.)

Dmitry paled, his eyes cast down to the duffle bag resting beside the Red Hood's boots, suspecting the worst. "Бляд..." He swore under his breath. "W-we didn’t know it was your turf!"

The hood let out a sound that might have been a chuckle, but it was distorted behind the mask.

He leaned against the desk, spinning his knife lazily in his hand. "The whole fuckin' city's my turf."

Danny tried to protest, but Jason interrupted. "Here’s how it works now. You want to work in Gotham, you pay me a cut. I keep the cops off your back, keep you alive, and make sure you don’t sell this filth to kids. You mess up, you disappear. Simple enough?"

When Danny hesitated, Jason flipped the knife into his hand and buried it in the table beside him. "That wasn’t a question."

Danny nodded frantically.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

The by-now famous Red Hood walked into Arkham asylum to blaring sirens as inmates shook the bars of their prison cells, shouting his name. Under the fluorescent lights, he could make out some familiar faces. But he was only here for one.

Joker looked up as red hood approached, a grin spreading across his face. "What's this?" He asked. "A fan coming to visit -"

The gunshot rang out before he could finish talking. The smoke raising from the red hood's gun. He climbed out into a nearby window and jumped out, the jokers cold body on the floor behind him.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Jason's eyes narrowed as he watched you through the window of you lab. You looked different now, older than the girl he once knew, but no less intoxicating. He clenched his fists, feeling the phantom pain of his death crawling all over his body.

You didn’t know. He reminded himself. You didn’t know what the Joker planned that night...

But you made it. That damn toxin that burned through his veins, twisting his screams into something unrecognizable even to himself.

Jason ground his teeth behind his mask. How was it fair that you got to walk away? That you got to live while he had to claw his way out of a fucking grave?

His gloved hand flexed over the hilt of his knife. He wouldn’t kill you, no. But he would make you pay. One way or another, he would make you pay.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Your hand reached for your phone charging on the table, but he noticed. He grasped you by your lab coat, easily pushing you against the wall. His grip was firm as he pinned your hands above your head. The sharp edge of his helmet pressed against your side. "What? Don't you trust me? After all this time..." the words released in a low chuckle.

Confused, you struggled against him. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t-"

He stepped closer, pressing you against the wall and locking your movement. The sound of his boots against the floor echoed in the quiet of the empty room.

You heard a click of metal and risked a glance to see him lift the helmet before dropping it to the ground.

Your breath left in a rush as your world tilted. Impossible...

"Jason...?" you whispered, barely audible.

He smiled down at you. Not the boyish grin you remembered. But a sharp, humorless. "Surprise."

You stared, taking in the stark differences. The Jason you remembered was cocky and boyish. The man standing above you now had sharper features, his body bulkier, and his eyes were hollowed pools of blue - once bright and mischievous - now held pain and anger aimed at you.

You stammered. “You - how - youre dead!”

"Aparently not." He drawled. “And congrats on being the first person to know who’s under the Red Hood.”

The Red Hood. That’s who he’s become. The vigilante-turned-crime lord everyone in Gotham feared or admired. And he was standing in front of you, the same boy with whom you did your homework, the one who pulled your hair at school, who took your first kiss, and more.

Jason’s gaze roamed over you, his expression unreadable. "What's wrong, baby? You look like you’ve seen a ghost," he said, his tone filled with amusement.

You voice shool as tears filled your eyes. "What happened to you?"

He told you. Step by step. Recounting the literal horror he'd experienced. By the time he finished his story, it was clear to you that Jason blamed you for hia death.

Jason felt a twisted satisfaction in seeing your head shake, guilt evident in your teary eyes.

His hand slid to your body, the leather of his glove cool against your skin. “Tell me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Does it bother you? Knowing that every time I look at you, I see the reason I died?” he emphasized by wrapping around your throat.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Jason’s lips crushed against yours before you could form a single word. It wasn’t tender; it was raw, punishing, a collision of teeth and desperation that left you breathless.

He lifted you with ease and put you on the table you were working on. Worrying about chemical hazards was the last thing on your mind when you were being kissed by a dark reincarnation of your high school sweetheart.

"Jason-" you drew back on a gasp.

His lips brushed your ear before biting your neck, “Do you know how many nights I dreamed of making you feel an ounce of what I felt?” His words terrified you.

"What will you do to me?" Your voice trembled.

"I don't know..." He sounded distracted as his finger glided over your lab coat, unbuttoning it and pulling it down off you, leaving you in your t-shirt and jeans. You were suddenly cold, feeling bumps along your arms. Jason's haze was heated, and you followed it to your chest, where your nipples pebbled under your bralette. You held your breath as he raised his hand to circle one of your nipples, not saying anything.

"If you were me," Jason drawled, attention back on you, though his fingers continued circling your nipple. You suppressed a whimper desperate to be let out. "What would you do to you?"

"I..." Your voice hitched when his finger brushed the spot you wanted him so desperately.

"What would you do if you've defeated all of your enemies, but one." He asked, tone heavy.

Your heart ached at his words, and you shook you head. "I'm not your enemy, Jay-" you wispered.

Something you said made him freeze, a moment passed before he gave your nipple a brief but harsh pinch. “You don’t get to say my name like that,” he hissed, his other hand tightening on your hair.

Removing his gloves and dropping them to the floor with a soft thud. You watched at his scarred, large hand lowered to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them one by one. The sensation made your body jerk, and you bit your lip to keep from making any sounds.

Jason noticed and brought his lips up to yours, biting down on your bottom lip before saying. "Dont hold back now, baby. You never did before -"

"I've missed you." The confession left your lips in a quick breath.

That made him freeze again. Just like when he did when you called him by his nickname. Carefully, you reached to cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the "J" scar under his eye.

"Stop," he said under his breath.

"Jason," you wimpered, your voice strained. "I missed you so much-"

"Stop." He growled.

With tears in your eyes, you begged. "Please! Jason, I still love-"

He kissed you again, desperate to silence you. He was pretty sure the next words out of your mouth were going to break his conditioning completely. He couldn't pet that happen - not after how far he's come.

His fingers reached your sex, coating themselves in your slick and sliding up to rub your clit. "If you don't shut up for your own good, I'll have to find something else to keep your mouth busy."

The ministration on your sex, the words, and the fact that the love of your life was speaking them to you all sent your mind spiraling. But the sensations he caused in your body overtook any intentions in your mind, and you arched against him, desperately pushing yourself closer to him.

"That's right," he chuckled, his mind back where he deeded it to be. "Give up control, baby."

You were so close.

"Give me my revenge." He laughed, grinning against your ear.

You moaned just as you were nearing your climax.

He withdrew his fingers, ruining your orgasm.

"No!" You protested.

Pleading, your eyes sought his out in the darkness. He wore a wolfish smirk as he reached up and licked his fingers. His eyes were hooded as he glared at you. He didn't say much. Just hummed as he slowly approached you. Frightened, you tried backing away as far as you could. "Dont! Jason, I'll call the cops. I'll tell them -"

"Tell them what?" He pulled you by your hair. It was not a playful tug like he used to do in school, but a harsh grasp that had you gasping. "That the Red Hood fingered you? That he didn't let you finish?" He said in a mocking tone.

You swallowed harshly, not saying anything. This version of Jason was so cruel that you couldn't comprehend it.

"You're not gonna go to the police." He informed you. "You're gonna come to work wearing a skirt tomorrow." He finished before giving you one last kiss.

Before you could come up with anything more to say, he had put on his gloves and helmet, saluted you, and walked out the door.

[morallysuperiorlips]

Oddly Specific Romance Prompts Vol. 3: Toxic Romance

“You are so fucked. You are so unbelievably fucked.” “Yes, I know. And that’s why I’m saying we can be unbelievably fucked together.”

"You're the worst thing that has ever happened to me." "That means you'll never forget me, then, huh?"

"Your love has absolutely ruined me."

"I know you're going to leave, but I also know you always come back. You're incapable of functioning without me and you know it."

"You and I were a match made in fucking hell."

"I could not survive if you left. I can't live without you." "The solution is simple, then. Don't give me a reason to leave."

"Nobody else could ever put up with you like I have."

"Every little part of you belongs to me. Your love. Your hate. Your body. Your soul. It's mine. You're mine."

"You could try to find somebody better, but I know you won't. You can't."

"I hate you. It physically pains me how much I hate you." "I know." "But the thought of leaving you is so much more unbearable." "I know."

"I don't know what sounds better: breaking your heart by leaving or watching you break yourself by staying."

"I never loved you." "That's a fucking lie if I've ever heard one. You and I both know you can't fake that passion. Admit it."

"You're psychotic. You're despicable. You're unloveable." "And yet, here you are. Loving me."

"You're everything that's wrong with my life, and yet I don't have the strength to get rid of you."

[slutforspungen]

Sid Vicious’s Letters to Deborah Spungen following the death of Nancy Spungen (his girlfriend).

(TW MENTIONS OF SUICIDE)

(FIRST LETTER)

Dear Debbie, thank you for phoning me the other night. It was so comforting to hear your voice. You are the only person who really understands how much Nancy and I love each other. Every day without Nancy gets worse and worse. I just hope that when I die I go the same place as her. Otherwise I will never find peace.

Frank said in the paper that Nancy was born in pain and lived in pain all her life. When I first met her, and for about six months after that, I spent practically the whole time in tears. Her pain was just too much to bear. Because, you see, I felt Nancy’s pain as though it were my own, worse even. But she said that I must be strong for her or otherwise she would have to leave me. So I became strong for her, and she began to stop having asthma attacks and seemed to be going through a lot less pain.

I realized that she had never known love and was desperately searching for someone to love her. It was the only thing she really needed. I gave her the love that she needed so badly and it comforts me to know that I made her very happy during the time we were together, where she had only known unhappiness before.

Oh Debbie, I love her with such passion. Every day is agony without her. I know now that it is possible to die from a broken heart. Because when you love someone as much as we love each other, they become fundamental to your existence. So I will die soon, even if I don’t kill myself. I guess you could say that I’m pining for her. I could live without food or water longer than I’m going to survive with out Nancy.

Thank you so much for understanding us, Debbie. It means so much to me, and I know it meant alot to Nancy. She really loves you, and so do I. How did she know when she was going to die? I always prayed that she was wrong, but deep inside I knew she was right.

Nancy was a very special person, too beautiful for this world. I feel so privileged to have loved her, and been loved by her. Oh Debbie, it was such a beautiful love. I can’t go on without it. When we first met, we knew we were made for each other, and fell in love with each other immediately. We were totally inseparable and were never apart. We had certain telepathic abilities, too. I remember about nine months after we met, I left Nancy for awhile. After a couple of weeks of being apart, I had a strange feeling that Nancy was dying. I went straight to the place she was staying and when I saw her, I knew it was true. I took her home with me and nursed her back to health, but I knew that if I hadn’t bothered she would have died.

Nancy was just a poor baby, desperate for love. It made me so happy to give her love, and believe me, no man ever loved a woman with such burning passion as I love Nancy. I never even looked at others. No one was as beautiful as my Nancy. Enclosed is a poem I wrote for her. It kind of sums up how much I love her.

If possible, I would love to see you before I die. You are the only one who understood.

Love, Sid XXX

P.S. Thank you, Debbie, for understanding that I have to die. Everyone else just thinks I am being weak. All I can say is that they never loved anyone as passionately as I love Nancy. I always felt unworthy to be loved by someone so beautiful as her. Everything we did was beautiful. At the climax of our lovemaking, I just used to break down and cry. It was so beautiful it was almost unbearable. It makes me mad when people say “you must have really loved her.” So they think I don’t still love her? At least when I die, we will be together.I feel like a lost child, so alone.

The nights are the worst. I used to hold Nancy close to me all night so that she wouldn’t have nightmares and I just can’t sleep without my beautiful baby in my arms. So warm and gentle and vulnerable. No one should expect me to live without her. She was a part of me. My heart.

Debbie, please come and see me. You are the only person who knows what I am going through. If you don’t want to, could you please phone me again, and write.

I love you.

NANCY

You were my little baby girl

And I shared all your fears.

Such joy to hold you in my arms

And kiss away your tears.

But now you’re gone there’s only pain

And nothing I can do.

And I don’t want to live this life

If I can’t live for you.

To my beautiful baby girl.

Our love will never die.

(SECOND LETTER)

Dear Debbie, I’m dying. Slowly, and in great pain. My baby is gone, without her I have no will to live. I love her so desperately. I know I can never make it without her. Nancy became my whole life. She was the only thing that mattered to me.

I’m glad I could make her happy. I gave her everything she ever wanted, just for the asking. When we only had enough money for one of us to get straight, I always gave it to Nancy. It was less painful to be sick myself than it was to see her sick.

When you love someone that much you cannot lose them and still be able to go on. I know that if I lived to be a thousand years old I would never find anyone like Nancy. No one can ever take her place. I love Nancy and Nancy only. I will always love her. Even after I am dead.

I have only eaten a few mouthfuls of food since she died. I may die of starvation in this place. I just hope it comes soon, so that I can be with Nancy again.

We always knew that we would go to the same place when we died. We so much wanted to die together in each other’s arms. I cry every time I think about that. I promised my baby that I would kill myself if anything ever happened to her, and she promised me the same. This is my final commitment to the one I love.

I worshipped Nancy. It was far more than just love. To me she was a goddess. She used to make me kiss her feet before we made love. No one ever loved the way we did, and to spend even a day away from her, let alone a whole lifetime, is too painful to even think about. Oh Debbie, I never knew what pain was until this happened. Nancy was my whole life. I lived for her. Now I must die for her.

It gave me such pleasure to give her anything she wanted. She was just like a child. She used to call me “daddy” when she was upset, and I used to call her “mamma” and she used to nurse me at her breast and call me her “baby boy”.

I tried to kill myself but they got me to hospital before I died. Nancy knows that I will soon be with her. Please pray that we will be together. I can never find peace until we are together again.

Oh Debbie, she was the most beautiful person I ever knew. I would have done anything for her.

Nancy once asked if I would pour petrol over myself and set it on fire if she told me to. I said I would, and I meant it. If you would happily die for someone, then how can you live without them. I can’t go on without her. She always said she would die before she was twenty-one, and I never doubted it.

Goodbye, Debbie. I love you.

Sid XXX

[nerdby]

I think toxic romance should qualify as a subgenre as horror, and I can't stand horror nerds that don't believe in subgenres. Like the kind of people who think that anything that isn't oozing shock value and gore doesn't count as "real" horror. The kind of people who say Flowers In The Attic is a psychological thriller or tragedy instead of a horror-tragedy.

Like how is tragedy not horrifying???

What is not horrifying about children being locked up, starved to death, and so completely cut off from human interaction that they develop an incestuous bond as a coping mechanism???

[zaphs-lost-cat]

I love the taste of your name in my mouth.

Even as I notice the cracks in my heart and the blood on your knuckles.

[darklinaforever]

Oh my fucking god... But look at this shit !

I don't know what's worse...

Believing that it's so problematic that women like fictional romances with villains.

That it's the reason why women would end up in abusive relationships if they were in them...

Seriously, wtf ?!

They literally say it's normal if men act like shit to her, because that's the kind of men they themselves are trying to attract. It's disgusting !

Or finally, the stupidest analysis I've ever seen on fairy tales ! Especially Beauty and the Beast, for fuck's sake...

Oh, and then I forgot the comment that implies that it is up to fathers, men therefore, to educate girls properly so that they are not idiots looking for toxic men...

Like @lizzie-queenofmeigas said : The whole thing of thinking every perceived misbehavior in a woman's life is because of her father is some bullshit.

I don't know if these people realize that it's actually this kind of discourse that is deeply toxic and dangerous, not the consumption of fictional romances.

[perry-fics]

Steve and Neal: My analysis

I decided to put together an analysis on Steve and Neal’s relationship and why is still ongoing in a way, even though so many bad things have happened between them. So I’m gonna start with a little introduction to who they both are and then see how those two look put together 🧐

Who is Neal Schon?

Neal’s parents divorced when he was young, and from what we know, neither of them paid much attention to him after that. His father was also a musician, and from what Neal has said, he was strict and kind of impatient trying to teach him different instruments. Neal himself admitted that he chose to learn guitar because it was an instrument that his dad didn’t know, so he couldn’t control his learning.

When Gregg picked him from school and introduced him to Santana, he was just 14/5. I think this is crucial: Neal was a kid in that world and he never really learnt to function outside of it. He doesn’t know what a normal life is. When he first left Santana, he tried to settle down with a regular girl, but Herbie ruined that for him, claiming he had his best interest at heart (I don’t buy it). Herbie saw Neal as a rockstar, not a husband, and he pushed him to keep moving, keep playing, and keep making money. And that’s basically what he’s been doing for the rest of his life.

He married like six times, all of them ended the same way: messy divorces, huge payouts, and children he never really stayed in touch with. He wants love, but he doesn’t know how to exist in a relationship after the honeymoon phase.

As a guitarist, Neal is great but underrated, and he knows it. He feels he’s not given enough credit so he constantly posts videos of himself playing and tries to make clear to people that he was the one that came up with this or that. He’s begging people to acknowledge him, to validate him. His massive ego just covers his insecurities. Same reason he clings so hard to Journey, he’s nothing outside of it.

So Neal is a kid who never grew up. He found his identity in music and never built a real life outside of it. He jumps from marriage to marriage, tour to tour, chasing the next new and exciting thing, because without music and the attention it brings, he doesn’t know who he is.

Who is Steve Perry?

Steve admitted that, as a child, he couldn’t say things, so he sang them. Music was his voice and his way to express himself. I think that followed him into adulthood since he’s clearly not the best at saying things out loud. He feels a lot, he’s very sensitive but all he can do with that is put it into a song or bury it so deep no one can see it.

Steve’s parents divorced when he was very young, younger than Neal was. His father was an alcoholic, he left their home early on and Steve’s mom became his closest relationship until her death in 1986. There’s another trauma in Steve’s childhood: he admitted to being abused. He never gave details but that experience could explain a lot about his issues: his need for control, his perfectionism, and his difficulty trusting people.

Steve didn’t make into the music industry by luck; he had to fight his way in. He spent years struggling, with no money and waiting for a break. Herbie said that during that time, Steve was using drugs and manipulating his cousin (?) to get them. Assuming this is true, it shows a guy desperate, he had nothing to lose and was willing to do anything to survive.

When he joined Journey, he didn’t take that opportunity for granted. He soon wanted control over the band. He had fought too hard to get there and he didn’t want to risk anyone taking it from him. I don’t think it was just about his ego, he felt it was necessary to save his opportunity, his fate, to save himself.  

Steve found his identity in being a singer, like I said it was his way of communicating his emotions. So of course he was very protective of his voice. But Journey’s touring schedule was brutal, forcing Steve to keep singing even when it was damaging him. This is the root of his problems with Herbie in my opinion. So it wasn’t just a physical problem, it was an existential problem. Who is he without his voice? That fear and the overwhelming fame was probably the reason why he eventually walked away.

Steve is not better than Neal at relationships. His longest was with Sherrie, he tried to build something normal with her, but it didn’t work. Maybe it was his incapacity to commit, the pressure of fame, or something deeper.

Years later, Steve started a relationship with a woman (Kellie) knowing she had terminal cancer. They were together for a year and a half I think, and he said he even considered marrying her. It’s a sad story but I can’t help wondering what’s behind his decision here. If his problem is commitment, then maybe he felt safe knowing it had an expiration date. Or maybe he wanted to prove (to himself and others) that he could do that, love someone till the end without running.

He later said Kellie was "the love of his life." That’s a safe thing to say because she’s gone, there’s no risk or complications in that relationship. It’s a nice thing for Steve, he can keep it closed and sealed, something that worked well and there’s no chance of screwing it up.

Like Gregg said, Steve handles everything behind closed doors. He is obsessed with his image, and I don't mean his looks, more about the way he presents himself to the world. He knows how to build a narrative, how to sell an image of himself. That image is the angel Steve 😇 we always talk about.

So Steve is always chasing and running:  he chased success, but when he got it, he hated what it did to him. He wants love, but he can’t really let anyone in.

Steve and Neal together

Even after so many decades, breaks, fights, a divorce, a couple of lawsuits and a coup attempt, Steve and Neal are still linked.  Their relationship isn’t just about music, its way deeper. It’s about their identities and their need for validation.

When Steve joined Journey, he and Neal built something together. It was magic and timeless; it made them both famous and rich. It didn’t last because Steve started to pull away.

Steve explained in 94 that he felt pressured to work if he was close to Neal and Jon. So Steve fears is not a real friendship, it’s a work thing. This is the same thing he said a few years ago while explaining why he refuses to have coffee with Neal.

But Neal is different, he doesn’t have a life outside of music so of course he wants to record with Steve, he doesn’t know how to connect in any other way. Journey was never just a job for Neal, it is his home and the only thing in his life that has lasted him more than a few years. So pulling Steve back into that makes Neal feel like he’s getting back all the magic they used to have together.  

At the same time, Steve feels betrayed because Jon and Neal moved on without him. Journey is Steve’s legacy so replacing him with another singer means losing control over his creation. This is Steve’s pain and I think is ongoing.   

But Neal has never let Steve go. Even after having different singer and all that, Neal keeps publicly begging Steve to return, not to the band but to him. He follows Steve fan pages, watches his interviews, always brings him up…

They reconnected briefly in 2022 and it ended badly with Steve suing him over the trademark thing. I’m sure any fan back in 2022 felt like that was the end of this relationship, the final nail in the coffin, but nope! Neal still won’t let go.

So why doesn't Neal let go?

Neal is underrated and he knows it, like I said early. His only way to feel relevant is next to Steve. Without Steve, he’s nothing. Neal may not be aware of this, maybe he feels like his love is pure and selfless but the truth is that in his mind Steve is connected to his best times, the golden years. And he feels that getting Steve back would mean magically going back to these times.

But what about the bad times? The fights? The way Steve controlled the band? Neal doesn’t care. He has been through all that hell and he has decided that he can take all that as long as he gets what he wants. And what he wants is Steve.

Steve doesn’t want to reconnect, but he hasn’t completely shut the door either. Why? Because Steve still wants to be the most important thing in Neal’s life. He won’t give him what he wants, but he also won’t give him closure.

Steve wants and needs Neal to keep chasing him. If Neal ever truly moved on, Steve would…I don’t know, die?

We establish Steve is very controlling, in every aspect really. During the 80s and 90s Steve would let the band in limbo for years; he didn’t officially left so they were just waiting for him. He had the control…until they got tired of it.  

Now, he’s out of the band but he’s doing the same thing with Neal. He won’t see him, won’t work with him, won’t even meet for coffee…but he still throws little bones that keep Neal chasing him.

Steve won’t let Neal have him, but he won’t let him forget him either. That’s a power move. If Steve gave Neal closure, Neal could move on. But Steve doesn’t want that. He wants Neal to miss him, to want him, to feel that hole in his life.

So what does Steve feels for neal?

I think Neal reminds Steve of his best era too, Steve has said that himself. The best and bigger times of their lives together. So he misses that, he misses Neal but he’s afraid he will expect more than he’s willing to give. Like recording, making music, putting Steve out in public in ways he has done before in social media.

So in conclusion…

Neal still believes there’s hope. He still talks about Steve like there’s a chance they’ll reunite, still follows his every move, still begs for him to give him a hug, a smile, a song...

And Steve lets him! Why? Is he evil?

I don’t thing he is evil. He’s been hurt, he’s been abandoned, and he’s learned to control and hurt others before anyone can hurt him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, I think he cares too much and suffers for it. He fears Neal in a way, fears he would use him or that being close to him would bring back old wounds that never close for Steve.

He’s conflicted. He loves Neal in some way, but he’s too scared to open that door again. So instead, he keeps it a little open, enough for Neal to know he’s still there, but not enough to let him in.

So, is he manipulative? Yes.

Is he cruel? Yes, a little

Is he evil? No.

He feels a lot, but only allows himself things that he can control. And he can only control neal from a distance.

So neither of them can fully let go. They're gonna be together in some way forever ♾️

[girlypopinspos]

"You can write about this, but only to condemn it. Don't romanticize or sexualize it!!"

Oh, sweetie, not only will I romanticize and sexualize it, but I will do it even more so now, just to piss your controlling, self-righteous, dictator ass off! 😊

[yanderes-for-everyone]

Title: I reincarnated as the Little Sister of a Death Game Manga's Murder Mastermind and Failed

Synopsis:

One day, Mai remembers that her perfect stepbrother is actually the main antagonist in a death game manga. In the story, he eventually grows bored of only killing insects and other animals and decides to slowly pick off his classmates. Mai, now remembering all of this, decides to try and make her brother's life more interesting by constantly trying to surprise him with her weird antics.

My Thoughts:

If you've read any of my other recommendations, then you know that my favorite kind of yanderes are two-faced; they are seen as a perfect, kind, and handsome, but in reality they are secretly manipulating things from the shadows to try and get the fl all to themselves. This manga is the perfect example of that trope. This manga makes it so that the ml doesn't understand his feelings at first; he's a psychopath and has never felt connected to any other being. It's really fun to see him slowly become infatuated with the fl and have him not even realize it until halfway through.

I don't want to spoil it too much, but he is incredibly possessive and manipulative. I also enjoy whenever we get a yandere in manga; it always feels more intense than manwha yanderes.

Yandere Rating:* 8/10

Overall Rating: 9/10

*this means the ml's yandere intensity

[bone-trash]

COD Headcanons #5

Fantasy AU - Part 1

Kingsguard!Ghost x BratPrince!Soap

(GOT/HOTD inspired — continued in my series The Hunt on AO3)

Prince John is not first in line to the throne, though as the “spare” to his father’s heir he must be protected at all times.

He’s disinterested in the political goings on of court life and is the epitome of a degenerate royal, drinking and whoring all he can with the most beautiful girls and boys available and generally being a twat

He picks out his bodyguard personally, the Knight in question had been a bastard once but was relegitimized due to his valor in battle and many wins on the jousting fields

The Ghost is a weapon in combat and a vision to see. Sword arm thrusting through the enemies’ shield as though it were butter, blood splatter bright against the ebony armor, (gone rusty at some edges if John is honest with himself, better fix that right away the look of the knight will reflect back into him) faceplate depicting the vision of Death itself, a grinning skull molded across his helm

When he wins his match and is bade to come close and kneel before his new Lord, The Ghost does, but with visible tension in his shoulders and removes his helmet as requested. Though his eyes are downcast John can see the fire of indignity as clear as day (hmm may need breaking in then)

Still, he’s pretty enough despite the unfortunate scars, a fresh slice above his eye drips a crimson line downward and looks lovely against the paleness of his brow. The wide set of his shoulders and thick corded muscle of his neck testify to the brute strength hidden below the hand-me-down armor

When the tourney ends Prince John retires immediately to his rooms The Ghost following rather somberly behind, helmet securely in place again

John, though his reputation is cruel, has had enough of the game and drops his robes almost immediately, striding up to his new Guard and wrapping his arms around the gorget at his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to the grim faceplate.

John has him there on the furs in front of his grand fireplace. Like many of the men sworn, or hoping to be, to his father’s service The Ghost (or Simon as he so prettily begged to be called instead) had been unspoiled. There on the floor, miles of pale scarred flesh spread before him like a palace feast, and John can hardly believe his luck (Hm, maybe not so hard to break after all)

He leaves behind cruel bites and bruises all over the taut muscled thighs and firm chest of his loyal lapdog, the whining beast already half in love with John before the spend even dries on his stomach. Nectar sweet noises of pleasure die in his throat as John gets up and redresses without ceremony

Eyes gone cold again The Ghost reaches for his shorn mail as well and makes to take his post back outside his Lord’s quarters when John snatches for his hand, still uncovered by his left gauntlet, and presses his warm lips to Simon’s knuckles. He can’t let this be the last time.

He’s always had a fondness for pretty things

[the-bar-sinister]

The inherent romance of the toxic, doomed relationship where the participants have been making each other miserable for years. Where the love has turned to bitterness and thorns and poison and spite, but they refuse to completely give up on one another.

The eyes meeting in silence.

The single touch of each other's hands after a long time with no contact.

The rough gestures of romantic intent that come with no apologies.