#w-why is there a yandere?

[threepandas]

Bad End: Golden Cassandra

People don't listen. Not when what your saying, scares them. Especially when, what you're saying, scares them. They like to pretend, instead. That if they don't hear you? It's not happening. Can't and WON'T happen. That you're just a liar. Speading fear, for the fun of it.

But oh, when has reality ever been that kind? That agreeable?

Tell me, WHEN has it ever bowed to the tantrums of men?

I can't think of a single instance. Knew it wouldn't now, either. So, really? What was I to do? Keep trying? Beat my head against walls of willful ignorance, until the deigned to give? Hoping, against all reason and evidence, that they MIGHT, just MAYBE, do so in the nick of time? Please. I was hopeful, not a fool. Optimism does not render a soul naive.

Like the fall of Atlantis, the sacking of Rome. Great Alexandria burning. Everything was going to be destroyed. Rather dramatically, too, and rather deservedly. I couldn't and DIDN'T defend it. Try to change it? Yes. Try to SAVE them? Absolutely. But not once, not EVER, would I defend it.

After all, it was a system built upon the backs of slaves.

Death was the only reasonable outcome. Revolution, the Voice, of those unheard and in chains. Their magic, their power, used for the convenience of their so called "betters". It was disgusting. Vile.

Set dressing, for an Otome Game.

As though their VERY LIVES, their SUFFERING and SOULS, were nothing but pretty little plot points in someone else's PLAY! The indignities they faced. The starvation and thirst. Being forced to watch friend and loved ones suffer, Scream, DIE!

But Oh, at least the Protagonist gets her handsome meat to oogle. They'll know their place, as they play along. Broken nicely and so very, VERY greatful for her scraps. She can play at revolutionary. Or perhaps at savior, should she feel the need. Assuming she doesn't leave them in chains.

And I? Oh I am supposed to play dress up and face her, in some sick "duel" of love! Abuse and use to my heart's content! The Gods jest. For I will do no such thing!

I can barely recall the plot. Only that the gloss over the rather significant socioeconomic and political fall out that is sure to follow. The Kingdom is not going to survive. Should it not be one sort of Revolutionary revolt, it will be another. Corruption, stagnation, and willful ignorance are simply too wide spread among the upper echelons. Baked too deeply into the foundations.

Gods... I... I tried.

It hurts. Like ripping out finger nails, one by one, when I finally gather enough. Not even all that I wish I could. But simply... enough. There is not enough time, the rumblings of revolution have grown too loud. I... I HAVE too go. And... and I know they won't come with me. My friends, my family, the neighbors. All those who smile, nod, and listen but don't believe a word I say.

The pain is hollowing. A truely special sort of hell.

Looking back, to little cousins on tiny legs, helping you pack. With their round little cheeks and small little hands. Watching them try to lift bags like a "grown up". Your friends and family, treating it all like a trip to the country side and not the last time you'll ever see them. The... the day being... being so accursedly normal. Mild weather and gentle breeze. Like your world isn't ending. Like everything isn't gone.

Wanting to be wrong. Traveling and traveling. Wanting to be wrong. Everything mild, calm and sweet. A hell of self doubt. Every night and every dawn. Are you insane? Were they right all along? Were you reading signs, portents of Doom, where there were none? But still... you travel. A caravan filled with your life's work.

Every scrap of modern knowledge. A copy of every work and definitive artwork. Every play, treatise, and textbook. Every old Diary I could get my hands on and endless days patrolling the book markets. A lifetime's work. All spent in hand-me-downs and out of fashion clothes, just for this. The preservation of knowledge.

But what if I'm wrong?

Fiddling with the piles of ward stones, as I get farther and farther north. Closer and closer to the land I stashed away. Hidden, within layers upon layers, of ever circling bureaucracy. A magic rich grove of Gold-leaf Ginko. They would have been harvested to oblivion, if I hadn't hidden them, and the species is already endangered.

I have been using a tower I built (in a natural clearing, as I would sooner remove my own limbs, then a single branch upon one of those trees) there as a seed bank. Every endangered magical plant species I came across? I sent as many seed as I could, to my bank. Had even begun the lengthy process of creating automatons, so they could build a green house (carefully!) into the mountain.

Seems I will have nothing but time, now, to dedicate to that project.

As I get closer, passing through the beginning of the valley towns (that lead into the high lands)? My Family Ring breaks. The terrible Crack of it, a sharp knife to the gut, splitting the morning silence. Father is... oh Gods, Father is...

Yet, even before I can come to terms with this terrible new reality? Beneath my travel cloak and jacket, nestled precious like the love it represented, my Clan Mantle begins to snap and crack like popcorn. Enchanted stone beads cracking apart violently, with the lose of the life they were made to represent. Shrapnel tearing at my clothes as I desperately rip at my cloak, my jacket, blood already welling up from various wounds.

Pop, dead. Crack, dead. Snap! Dead.

I manage to rip the heavy necklace from around my shoulders. Already half the bead are gone. More, like lethal firecrackers, shooting off even as I fling the enchanted jewelry into a nearby leather bag. Scramble for a nearby heavy blanket to cover it. Blood stains everything, dripping from shallow nicks and shrapnel wounds alike. I... oh gods, I barely notice I'm crying.

The sounds have startled the horses. One of them even got hurt. It.. it takes hours to fix. I have to stop in the next town. Shaking. Shaking. I.. I think I may be shaking. C-crying. "To remember where you came from." That's... oh god. That's what Clan Mantle's are FOR. A symbolic gift, really. They... they could never have known.

That it would actually serve it's original purpose. It's ancient purpose. The reason they USED to be made. To... to show who was still ALIVE. Oh gods. I... I can't check. Can't bear to look. The sound has stopped. Is it over? Are... is there...? Please, gods, don't make me look. Don't make me KNOW, how few members of my own family are left.

I was right. Gods, damn them.

Gods damn them all.

I was RIGHT.

Bandaged, healed, I travel faster. Time is running out. It doesn't matter, now, which "route" she took. Everything will have fallen apart. I reach my grove and don't even bother to set up a tent. Wards before all. Better to sleep on the floor, then be caught unaware. I work around the clock. Feeling like clawed fingers are ever so gently, wrapping around my throat, one at a time. Tick, tock, tick, tock. And oh, the tighter they squeeze.

Barely... BARELY! Do the wards thrum to life, deep and powerful, before I feel some almost god like crash into them. My hands shake. Still kneeling in the dirt, from where I placed the last stone, I slowly look up. And... and curling above the golden trees? Shades of copper catch the light. Massive and leaning. Stepping on my wards. Looking down in annoyance, as they refuse to part.

(Distantly, I hear the horses scream in terror. I... I wish I could do the same.)

I flee. Scrambling without dignity, back to the seed bank's tower. Trying to keep out of sight. A hopeless endeavor, I know. What other reason could such a power Dragon be out here for? If not to finish what was started? But... but hope has carried me so FAR. Can it not carry me just a bit farther?

No attacks come. No insults or threats. Yet...

The presence does not leave.

I can not hide forever, for all that fear exhausts and bids me too. All my supplies are out side. My wards, at least seem, to have held? But how can I trust it? Knowing just how strong a dragon's magis is. Sure enough, the second I step outside? There he stands. The copper dragon. Just beyond the wards.

Worse still? He is a man I recognize. Which can only invite pain and suffering, as he played no small part in the revolution. Not to mention, his significance to that damnable Game. Was he "supporting character"? A "hidden route"? An antagonist I could not quite recall? I can not place it. He was THERE, but not lead about by the nose, like the others. Not broken, as they were.

Now, here he stands, light catching off his ornaments and nails. As he tap, tap, taps them lightly against my wards. In sequence. Amused. His eyes locked with mine and glowing from within. Fire and magic made manifest. The king was a fool to think he owned this man. A "royal gaurd dog" indeed. Ha! They brought death into their house, then kicked it.

A slow smile, spreading like poison through sleeping veins, creeps across that deceptively youthful face. Sharp, sharp teeth are revealed to the air. I think I may amuse him. Perhaps I have for quite a while. I have made it no secret, after all, that I know he is dangerous. Treated him as the threat he truely IS. Others thought it was funny. Would find excuses to shove me at him, just to see me panic. All the while, he pretended, like a GOOD little dog, to be polite.

His eyes had always been laughing.

And now? He doesn't even bother to hide.

"You ran away." His voice rings out, the barest hint of rasp, like the drawing of a blade. It fills the silence. Demands attention. "Did you think I wouldn't be able to find you?"

To be honest? I had hoped no one would look. That I had given them no reason to even try. Perhaps that had been naive. I was a part of the system too, in the end. Guilt by association. That didn't explain him, however. Had I wronged him? Beyond the obvious. (And the obvious sat between us, like so much rotten filth. How could ANYONE over look that?)

"Their courts burned, just like you always warned they would. You should have seen it."

He stopped to chuckle. Closer to a sneer, then a sound of true amusement. His distain and delight intertwining as he savored the memory. He leaned closer. Letting his forehead press against the barrier. Enjoying, reliving, his moment of triumph, once again.

"Ha, ha~ Oh, but you should have seen their faces. When they realized you were right. That you had warned them and warned them, but they had refused to listen! It was glorious, darling. They howled with such regret and fear. A magnificent symphony~ you made for me."

I backed up against the carts. The wounds from broken beads stinging harshly with every shift, like the screaming of the dead. Scared. Gods, I'm s-so scared. I can't possibly have invited this... r-right? I never flirted or... or suggested anything! So-! So why is-?! Gods, why is he here?!

"You can't run from me, clever girl. Not for long. You saw me and I see you. Too clever by half. They really should have listened~!" He broke off to laugh, a sharp mockery of the dead. Fangs catching the light. "But they didn't, did they? My poor clever girl. We truely were buried by filth, weren't we? How glorious it must be. To finally be free."

"But~! Did you really think you could escape ME, my clever girl?"

"You're not nearly so foolish. Open the barrier, darling."

"Let me in. Our revolution is over, I have won."

"Now you can't escape me~"

[tsuutarr]

All of the fairies in Cot’s village have told him that he’s a workaholic with no understanding of his own limits. He usually waves them off, too focused on his potion crafting to really care about what they’re saying.

But when he falls inside your basket, he’s vividly aware of how stupid he is for ignoring his own limitations. He had flown too far to find some herbs and now he’s stuck in a human’s basket. He really doesn’t want to know what you’ll do to him, but he’s too tired to fly away.

Maybe you’ll put him in a jar. Or rip off his wings. Or feed him to your dog. Or something. Thousands and thousands of negative thoughts flood his head as he looks up at you, a mixture of wariness and exhaustion present on his face.

The last thing he expects is for you to push a few berries his way. The sweet, tantalizing scent of the berries makes Cot’s mouth water. His hunger wins over caution as he chows down on your gift. He doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything so delicious. 

Once he’s done eating, Cot decides that you’re actually really, really nice. The smile on your face as you watch him eat makes his heart feel all fuzzy and warm. Your voice when you talk to him is really pretty, too.

After that, Cot begins to linger around you. At first, it’s purely to repay you! You were so nice to him, so of course he wants to pay that forward. He helps you take care of your garden and helps you clean your house, eager to please you. 

As he continues to assist you in any way he can, Cot can’t help but love spending time with you. It’s fun, it’s easy, it’s just… nice to be with you. In fact, he spends most of his time with you, making himself comfy in the dollhouse you got for him. And when he has to go back to the Fae Realm, all he can think about is you as he goes about his tasks.

He doesn’t really mind it, though. He likes thinking about you.

But then he has a thought. Maybe it’ll be better if you’re with him, always. When he sees you hanging out with your friends on his visit to the human realm, this thought spirals out of control until it becomes something dark and possessive and all-consuming.

Yeah, it really will be better if you're always with him.

He begins to gift you enchanted tea leaves from the Fae Realm, determined to slowly transform you into someone who’s more fae than human. Then, he gifts you a lovely necklace, enchanted with a piece of his magic – a piece of him. 

You gratefully accept the necklace, unaware of the enchantment on it – an enchantment to ensure that all your friends are too sick to ever spend time with you because he’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And as Cot sets his plan, you’ll be none the wiser. After all, why would you ever suspect your cute, tiny fairy friend? He’s just so adorable and harmless, you know?

[weebsinstash]

yandere Lex Luthor would N0T allow you to divorce him and honestly I think he would have any divorce lawyers you "secretly" speak to on the matter quietly sent away to be tested on in a laboratory somewhere or something equally horrific

you: oh, wow, Lex... you got me a new moisturizer to try and buy my affection again, how quaint

Lex, not even mildly concerned for the health and safety of the grotesque chimera freak in his secret lab whose skin they've been testing brand new experimental chemical combinations on because the whelp suggested he could represent you in divorce court: I hope you like it beloved, i had it made custom for you 🥰

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[habibisagi]

me and the lowkey yandere (symbiote) spiderman isagi fic i wanna write 😞

[kaixserzz]

LISTEN.. I know you love your fluff and comfort 🙄🙄 /s /lh but I'd like to hear abt what you'd think on this

Dottore and reader breaking up due to issues in both ends, whether be our fault or his, they're not longer together.

A heated decision, in which everyone inloved was hurt, it all came to a boiling point.

You leave dottore to his own devices, it qas a sudden decision but you and he were done.

All the while, he can't find himself to be angry at you then, but soon after, he grows upset.

It took him 48 hours to realise your were truly gone. When his segments told him you were nowhere to be found, he knew it was most likely, actually, over.

He'd take this as the worst betrayal ever done to him, growing resentful of what you did to him, how could you leave him?

Soon that resentment turned to restlessness, he didn't know how to explain it, but he was desperate to get you back. He sent fatuus out to find you, to bring you back to him, but you never came up.

You spent centuries of your life with him, surely you hadn't actually left him, he kept reassuring himself to be logical, to believe that you'd be logical enough to come back.

You never did. And when he visited your guys room, he found your stuff gone. The sight of that almost made him break down.

How did it turn out like this?

My phone is on 2% so I couldn't format this right :( anyways! I thought abt making a fanfic abt this, I love hurt/no comfort, but even this makes me feel sad 😭😭

STOP SHUT UP !!!1 111! DONT U EVER... TALK ABOUT ANGST TO ME... STOP !! PLEAHDNSMADSADSAT HIS IS ONLY FLUFF ZONE.. HURT/COMFORT... 😭😭😭

says the guy who thinks about killing reader ever conceivable long fic to make him suffer ^

dottore is definitely the type of guy who could never move on from a break up like that. like, how could he??? you've been part of his life for too long and you're one of the things that makes him genuinely happy!!

you don't even wanna see him anymore? talk it out? are you happy now that you're not with him anymore? did you feel like you've wasted centuries with him?

has he lacked as a lover? was he too prideful to notice what was wrong? to save something the cherishes? or was your relationship just fated to be doomed?

OKAY thats enough.... if you write this,, i will BAWL.. no no angst please noo NOO

[hawksmp3]

[icefang111]

Binged the dungeon meshi anime today and gotta say... was not nearly as fucked as everyone was implying???

Was really good, don't get me wrong but like, what's a little blood magic between friends ya know? It's chill, like bearly a 6 on the fucked scale. I was expecting more :/

[constantvariations]

So either Wilt turned into a giant phillips head screwdriver offscreen, they’re trying to imply that Beacon wasn’t the first time Adam stabbed Blake, or the writers forgot their character’s canonical injuries. Again

[qualityrain]

lowk annoyed everytime people act like the main reason why kotaro and shinpei do those stuff is romantic jealousy like guys ik this is a romance manga but cmon. not everything is abt romance. ok. theres so many other reasons and to boil it down into romantic jealousy is so 💀

[touyaz]

isagi needs a yandere gf so badly and I could be that for him i could do it just give me a chance youichi just give me one chance

[redstrewn]

im fr so weak to fictional men w deceptively soft exteriors like that shit makes me go fucking crazy

[radiostaticsmile]

Wagh tfw good post but you on the DNI

[brainrotfm]

i don’t even WANT to write him so pls tell me why i have a gojo fic rotting in my brain

[habibisagi]

any time i see gifs of gojo at the top of the building staring down with his weird grin i think about him actually watching you walking out of your miserable job for the night and it’s a routine he builds until he finds the right moment—the right night to take you away from all of that. give you something to not be so miserable and tired about; even if you didn’t ask for it, he’d be doing you a favor <3 it’d be fun, to loosen you up

[isekyaaa]

Trying to come up with cliche isekai/regressor plots for every male genshin character is fighting with myself not to do certain ones like, "I Got Pregnant With the Emperor's Child!" for Zh*ngli.