#yandere singer

[suiana]

(yandere! singer x gn! pr reader)

'FAMOUS SINGER CAUGHT STALKING PERSON!'

'POP SINGER RUMOURED TO HAVE BEATEN UP MAN WHO WENT ON DATE WITH PR MANAGER!'

'TOP SINGER SAID TO HAVE AN OBSESSION WITH MANAGER!'

all these headlines only served to give you a headache as you forced a smile for the flashing cameras. currently you were in the middle of a press conference, attempting to salvage his reputation and calm down the media who was always looking for a juicy story.

yes, you were his pr manager. and yes, you were the person that was said to be the one this damned singer adored.

it was a huge headache, not only for you but his PR team that you led as well.

i mean, stalking? obsession? you'd have to do a major ass pull to get the public to stop shitting on him.

but this was just another regular day as his PR team. for he had always been getting into scandals ever since he debuted. so you were sure that everything would be back to normal soon enough. you had enough experience with him after all.

at first, his scandals were regular ones like relationships and such. however, things started changing when he fell for you.

getting into fights, stalking you...

god, you don't know how hard it was for you and your PR team to save his ass this time round. countless sleepless nights and lots of coffee were sacrificed so that this press conference would be perfected.

and yet... here he was messing everything up! god! you just wanted to smash your head against the table!

"hi... yes, i am here to address all the rumours in person. sorry for my late arrival."

the charming singer smiles, laughing boisterously as he crashes the initially perfect conference. god fucking damn it! if only he just listened to you and remained hidden for the time being, things would've been over by now! but no, he just had to be an attention whore and come waltzing in just as the conference was about to end.

"yes, i do adore my PR manager. yes, i did stalk them. no, I don't regret my actions. any other questions?"

he flashes his pearly whites at the cameras, posing as all the news reporters start throwing questions at him, eager for more information.

you merely let a lone tear drip sown your eyes, heavy eyebags on display as your hands clench the edge of the desk. all your hardwork, gone down the drain just like that. and the culprit was happily smiling.

...

is it too late to smash his head against the ground?

[2-dsimp]

How would lynx react if I tied him up and teased him by wearing something he likes or just being an teasing asshole to him

Lynx the Harpy Would hate it.

The Singer refuses to be on the receiving end of being tied up under any circumstances. He’s a free birdy and he plans on keeping it that way. Would be extremely fussy and complain a lot should you attempt at tying him up. He’d also demand a lot of compensation for going through such a traumatizing experience.

[hana-no-seiiki]

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIVE STAGES OF YANDERE ࿐: IDOL EDITION

“ 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃. “

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere! idol! oc (jisoo han) x superfan/manager! reader

✧ tw/cw: yandere themes, reader is also yandere at the start, mentions of anxiety and self harm, honestly idol life is its own tw

HAPPY HANA NO SEIIKI ANNIVERSARY YA’LL!!

[ series masterlist ]

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE ONE. ✧ DENIAL

“Oh gosh (oh gosh) this is so crazy. I’ve fallen in love again.

I trip so easily.

Adore new things, they sparkle.”

“Why are you so obsessed with him?”

“Dunno, just am.”

Your entire life revolved around Yesterday’s Dawn’s ace, Eve. The idol who had been in everyone’s lips. Whose name had been heard throughout nations you’ve never even heard of.

He was your sun, the reason you had the energy to wake up every single day, the light of your life.

Every waking moment you spent it either thinking of him or offering your services for name.

It was normal for you to spend hours looking at his schedule, knowing where he was, being around him most times, or staring at media of him.

Somehow, you were able to land a job as his manager.

You were finally closer to your god.

But you swiftly find out that no man should be likened to one for only disappointment can be found in such a path.

Eve was a lot more . . . burnt out than you expected. A lot less passionate and energetic than he was in camera if not irritable.

It was normal for him to harass workers when they didn’t meet a standard he imposed, as such, after the first few weeks of your employment everyone that you were with have already been fired, quit, and/or paid to keep their silence on the matter.

Yet your feelings for him only stayed; as your employment with the company. Your meticulous and proactive nature as a fan site owner allowed you to take much of the workload he threw at you.

The little admiration you have left for the man kept you standing.

And if only you were a little less stressed you’d notice his scarlet eyes providing stares of amusement, bewilderment, and growing affection.

You never complained (at least, in a place where he could hear you).

Whenever he asked for impossible items or schedules you’ll simply grin and work things out in your little way.

You adjusted to his turbulent temperament as quickly as an experienced pilot in a stormy sky, a sailor of uncharted, dangerous waters.

You were brilliant. Reminiscent of his times as a trainee.

Bit by bit he started lessening your workload. Allowing you to rest. Hell, even giving you his coffee if he didn’t want it. He never gives away his coffee.

You acquiesced to many of his whims but were never a pushover. Always doing your job perfectly. Keeping him in line.

He would have fallen for you already, had he not been in love with someone else.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE TWO. ✧ ANGER

“Peek-a-boo! It’s only love when my heart quivers.

All my friends yell at me, they say I have a problem.

I’m fine fine fine fine fine fine!”

“ For this comeback period, [L/N] will be assigned to Hayate instead. Eve will have his senior’s manager work with him instead.”

“Understood.”

You were assigned to another member around Spring.

Yesterday Dawn’s most hectic time of the year aside from fall as the group’s concept was as the name suggested, focused more on nostalgia and times of youth.

You were relieved.

You never thought you would have been able to say that after being separated from Eve, but now it was the only thing you had on your mind.

No more late night calls about wanting coffee but throwing the leftovers at you the moment he was sick of the taste, no more work being thrown at you and taken away at random moments, no more working around his schedule so that he’ll have time to meet that dear senior of his in private.

You were free.

Hayate was known to be the harsher one in the fandom, but much like Eve his image was a bit different from his actual self.

Sure he was demanding, but he was fair. He wasn’t controlled by whims and impulse. You were finally able to do your job properly til the end, and you didn’t always feel a judging stare from him like Jisoo would always throw at you.

You were finally able to smile.

However, you see, being a manager for another member did not mean you would completely be free of your original client.

Hayate and Eve worked quite closely, and as such, you’d often help with Jisoo’s requests even if you weren’t obligated to.

Eve immediately saw the change in you.

You were, a lot more bright. Less haggard. Your voice less hoarse. Relaxed.

You were already getting along better with his group member than you ever did with him.

Eve wasn’t really the type to show his anger actively. He was always more, passive.

The senior he was head over heels for was slowly forgotten as he’d spent countless of hours pouring his feelings into his music. What was supposed to be a bittersweet spring album turned out to be one of sour regret and frustration.

Of course, it was still a hit. It even scored him a collaboration with the senior he oh so wanted to have their eyes on him. But all he could think of as he went to bed early in the morning was the way you’d laugh whenever Hayate spoke to you.

Hmph, the guy wasn’t even funny.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE THREE. ✧ BARGAINING

“Hey you, do you wanna play a game? I already know what you want.

Close your eyes and count to 10. Don’t matter anyways

Cause I am going to find you.”

“Did you hear? Jisoo got his first scandal. Apparently he bullied a bunch of students during high-school.”

“Wasn’t he . . . homeschooled?”

Causing scandals was easy. Dealing with scandals was not.

All Eve had to do was talk to some people, had a few pictures edited and voila, chaos.

It was amusing really, his company superiors would ply him with reassurances and sweet words; telling him that everything will be fine and dealt with while his pr managers dropped down like flies trying to prevent the flames of hatred from spreading too far.

All of them, hopelessly unaware.

All but his stupid senior.

“Why are you doing this now, Ji?”

They always looked down at him almost. Like he was a petulant child that needed to be coddled or scolded depending on their mood.

“We should focus on the track.”

And like he expected, you were brought right back to him. As you should be.

The heads figured out that you were the only one capable of handling the shitstorm without falling into the hands of alcohol or other substances in grief.

And as they expected you did.

After all, you had a timeline of his entire life in a canva document. Even if it was only mentioned once in a concert interview before they went famous. You were an Eve superfan.

All you did was confirm the fact that Jisoo got homeschooled by contacting his parents and teachers, and the rest was easy. You even reactivated your fansite for such an occasion.

If only you hadn’t.

Maybe then Jisoo wouldn’t have a definite reason to pursue you.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FOUR. ✧ DEPRESSION

“You’ll never get this concept, you might as well forget it

Just play again, bet it all, roll the dice

BLANCA”

Eve thought he was doing well in terms of romancing you.

Ever since he found out about your fansite instead of feeling disgust and horror he felt . . . great, amazing even. A high the stage could never give him.

Of course, you two were destined.

It was only his duty to protect you as your partner, to spoil you, dote on you.

Even if you don’t realize your intertwined fates yet.

. . .

Eve always hovered over you.

Usually managers took shifts with watching over the idols. Half of your time was supposed to be spent planning rather than overseeing his activities.

Yet you seemed to have a never ending babysitting responsibility.

Your past self would have committed several war crimes for the sake of this opportunity. But after a year or so under his ‘care’ you found yourself slowly veering off into the type of insanity you didn’t like falling in.

You felt a bit like Andy from the original Devil Wears Prada book, only that your resentment simmered slowly. Forming into a hideous red sludge of exasperation whenever he randomly wanted to take a vacation. Forcing only you to come with him. Which meant an even bigger workload, and even more people to talk to for flights, schedule conflicts, reservations and all that.

You snapped.

It was a calm afternoon.

The sun was burning you alive as Eve insisted you two would go on a ‘beach date’ for some summer fun.

He shoved a drink in your hand.

And you just broke down.

Tears fell from your eyes, your breath shallow.

You asked him if this amused him. If your suffering was funny to him. If making you fall over just to get his demands on time made him feel fulfilled as a person.

And before he could answer you ran.

A week after that your schedule was finally normal.

Eve kept his distance. Not just from you but from everyone.

You knew of his anxiety attacks and depression before. But seeing those up close and personal scared you.

Things only get worse from here.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FIVE. ✧ ACCEPTANCE

“So it’s too late you’re in the game now. If you keep up might not lose it.

The jungle gym of fun, like hell yeah

Makin the moon fall down down down.”

Eve spent most of his ‘hiatus’ watching your posts of him. Edits, fanfictions, photography, fancams.

Of course, it wasn’t to see himself perform again. He already did that on a regular basis to make sure he kept himself up to the standards of an idol.

It was to see your captions.

Your fanatic raving made him feel . . . loved.

Your previous thoughts on his performances made him feel complete. Like he found a missing piece of a puzzle he kept trying to put something else to fill it in.

Another part of his hiatus was spent preparing for his graduation. The termination of his contract.

It was clear you didn’t love him as an idol anymore. It was his fault really. He couldn’t see how he was hurting you with his work and desires.

If there was another thing he can thank his idol work for was the amount of money he had saved.

Now, he had a new home built far away from civilization. It was completely soundproof. The bed he ordered was custom made, tailored to your preferences this time rather than his. Food stocked to the nines. A few instruments here and there so he could compose even while retired.

He can always make a new song, a new life for you two to enjoy together.

“My voice, my body, my soul. It had always been yours. I just didn’t realize it.”

✧ [AUTHOR’S NOTE]:

For more EVE content check out the #hns.eve tag 🩵

Lyrics are a mix of translations from the og song and Mitch Joseph’s cover.

OFFICIAL EVE CHARACTER AI

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024

[bay-sil]

Yandere Singer (Italics is in Dutch)

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚜, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚙𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎.

𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 "𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎!" 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛, "𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞!" 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝙳𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 "𝙸 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝙻𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎" 𝙷𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎.

𝚈/𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛, 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝙰𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍. 𝙰𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖. 𝚄𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚈/𝚗.

𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌, 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝, 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍…𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. "𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔" 𝚈/𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚢𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚎.

𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌. 𝙷𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚘𝚙 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢. 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚙 "𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘?" 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 "𝙾𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎!" 𝙷𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 "𝚂𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚛𝚎 ���𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐?" 𝙷𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 ��𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 "𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝙸'𝚖 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎" 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 "𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎?" 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 "𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏" 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 "𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚈/𝚗" 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚍𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚍. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚈/𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚍, 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔. 𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢, 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 "𝙲-𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜?" 𝚈/𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢 "𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎" 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝙲𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚘𝚗 "𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜" 𝙷𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎, 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜.

𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝟸 𝙰𝙼 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 a𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 "𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞?" 𝙷𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 "𝙽𝚊𝚑, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎" 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚜, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝙰𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑, 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝. 𝙳𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?

𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎. 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗. 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠, 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

𝚄𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝙽𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 - 𝙷𝚎𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚈/𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑. 𝚆𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠'𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙼𝚛. 𝚅𝚊𝚗 𝙳𝚒𝚓𝚔

𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚌𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 - 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑!! 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝! 𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚈/𝚗!!!!

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝!! 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙, 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚞𝚙 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍.

(Also he put your name in as "💜 Y/n 💜" and you put his in as Stephan Van Dijk)

I hope you guys like Stephan, he was a lot of fun to write for and I have a lot planned for him :)

[yanchive]

I got permission to expand on this idea, so I'm gunna share my thoughts and what I came up with regarding this cool idea. I got the concept of this from the OP of the previous post, @coveredinsoot , so credits goes to them. I used he/him for the Yan, and they/them for the Darling so all readers can enjoy. I haven't written something like this in ages. Forgive me.

TW: Yandere themes(obv), mentions of drug use(non consentual), minor mentions of sexual themes, not proofread very well I wrote this first thing in the morning. I hadn't even gotten out of bed lmao

-A recap of my tags in the previous post, my idea followed the premise of a yan whose darling is an employee working under the record label/idol agency(whichever one you prefer) he is signed onto. They could have a position working somewhat in the same sphere as their Yan. My first thought was maybe a touring staff, but I felt specifically that they could be a photographer who was hired solely to work under Yans label.

-They do the shooting for promos, they participate in the creation of music videos, go on tours to get photos at concerts, etc. They work alongside Yan, but rarely interact outside of the professional setting. Darling has a job they have to do, and getting personal with the artist they're assigned to work under is a risky thing, so they choose to keep their casual interactions to a minimal to avoid scandals.

-While Darling is putting their attention all into their career, Yan is forced to get his unrequited feelings out via music. Filling notebooks after notebooks with sickingly sweet words, turning them into lyrics that get pumped out to fans, who all imagine themselves as the reciever of such romantic tales of woe.

-Yan constantly sneaks details about his Darling into his music, from mentioning small physical traits on their body like the color of their hair and eyes, to maybe even scars and birthmarks no one would or should know unless they've seen them partially or fully naked. They would constantly bring up traits revolving around the Darlings personality most of the time, but no matter how many details they place in their songs, it just seems to go over Darlings head

-Yan constantly asks Darling what their thoughts are on his new music, hoping to one day see their eyes light up and realize they were the center of all his music and finally return his feelings, but Darling only ever gives vague compliments to him, telling him his music is great but really never delves to deep into the lyrics or sound.

-Yan finally comes to terms, after watching over his Darling for months, maybe even years, the Darling just never gives his music an actual proper chance, and that's why they never pick up on all the lyrics that would eerily describe them to a T. Yan decides to be a bit more risky, and take his lovey dovey songs into more darker territory.

-Its an obvious switch. Going from themed albums that would have him in more colorful attire and poppy beats, to more darker fashion and seductive tones. Clearly the Cloud 9, cutesy romance didn't do the trick, so maybe he could lure his Darling in with a more mature persona.

-Lyrics become much more sexual in nature, singing of long nights underneath the covers, decorating each others skin in marks, all the things that gets the crowds riled up. He isn't afraid to drop hints/details about kinks he picked up that his Darling seemed to be interested in(well at least that's what Darlings search history says).

-His fame skyrockets after the new change, and he sees his Darling has started to pick up a bit of an interest in his music(fucking finally). They notice a little bit of how Yan seems to keep a certain image of someone within his lyrics. Mentions of the same hair color(and if Darlings one to dye their hair, will even mention the change in hair color in the song(s), same eye color, same attributes both physically and personality wise. But despite that, Darling still hadn't gotten deep enough into the music to put the puzzle pieces together. Though they did make a joke about how much they related to this mystery person from the small amount of details they picked up.

-Yan definitely had to bite his tongue and hold his hands behind his back to keep from exploding after hearing that. So damn close, his Darling is right fucking there, the density this Darling had was driving Yan up the wall, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't find a little excitement in it. At this point he done already turned it into a game.

-The music just gets darker from there, and while the crowds of unwavering loyal fans eat up each word like its their last meal, Darling is finally becoming suspicious. Not just from the odd lyrics Yan has been singing, but also behaviors being exhibited behind the curtains. Around the first change in sound, when Yan took his music down a darker route, Yan had begun being more pushy with spending more time with his Darling. Following them around like a lost puppy between photoshoots. Trying his damnest to get Darling to hang out with him outside of work. Throwing parties just in an attempt to get Darling out of their professional persona around him. Constantly buying them things, showing up out of no where to chat with them, it was overwhelming.

-It was only getting worse, especially since Yan was beginning to slip up and say things about Darling that he shouldn't know. Afterall, Darling never told him such things. Coupled that with the fact that his lyrics in his new album sing of kidnapping and basements and a whole bunch of stuff that aren't at all romantic anymore, Darling is getting wary. They can't seem to go anywhere without this nagging feeling they weren't alone and something was wrong. They even begin looking into changing to a different label or becoming an independent photographer just to get away from overwhelming nature of their Yan.

-And Yan picks up on it. He realizes he isn't winning them over like this anymore, and he's now down to his last resort. He's always been a tad sadistic, even in the beginning he had a bit of joy daydreaming about kidnapping Darling and having them caged in his awfully large mansion, only having Darling ever see and hear from him. He's spent many hours in bed imagining ways to condition and brainwash Darling into relying on him, maybe even getting them so reliant on Yan that he'd be able to have them follow him once again on tours just so they could always be together every waking moment of their lives.

-But to get to that point, he was going to have to start at step 1.

1. Throw a party. At this point they had become common, as this was something he used in the past to get Darling to come out and spend time with him. He'd use the same excuse he's used in the past. He wants his favorite photographer to come and take amazing photos of the party so he can put them on his Instagram for bragging rights.

2. Get them chilled out. Darling never drinks alcohol at these parties. They have an expensive camera they need to protect, and taking decent camera shots require a steady hand. So Yan will make his own concoction for Darling. Darling only said they won't drink alcohol, they never mentioned anything else...

3. Take them out of the crowd and into a more quiet... secluded area of the house. They were never big on parties, its so easy to get overwhelmed, and now they're drowzy and stumbling over themselves and their words. Can't even stand up let alone walk. They clearly need some rest. Luckily Yan has everything they need to keep them comfortable. Now that they've finally made it home they can rest easy on their new bed while Yan finishes up closing down the party for the night.

4. Now a new life can be started. One much more suited to Yans taste. A life his amazing music has sung tales of since the day Yan fell in love...

[hana-no-seiiki]

Omfg I love this!! I’m literally crying wtf You guys basically captured Eve’s personality.

And yes dw anon, that part of the fic was mostly crack lmfaoOo

Another thing Feroze might be able to cash in if Manager falls in love/sides with/prefers Eve, is Eve flirting with literally everyone he meets. You aren’t actually special to him!! He treats everyone the same. (Except Eve does that as a coping mechanism for how declined atrocious he is for Manager)

Eve is a lot of things, but never a goody two shoes. A part of idol training is how one would train their image and Eve has got it down to a science. He’s gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss to the max. He knows what he wants and he will fight tooth and nail to get it. Over a decade of idol training/being on the scene and he has not slowed down when it comes to passion and ambition. During your time with him, he’d often threaten you with throwing away his nice guy image if you didn’t act like how he wanted but with a sweet, light tone that you didn’t really notice how horrid he was being. Though you’ve mostly forgotten it.

(His tattoo canonically matches with another idol but for the sake of this scenario let’s say he got it after you refused to eat lunch with him. It was painful, it was certainly a stain on his prim and proper image (the country he comes from condemns such ‘horrid acts’ against the body), but he had a message and it was definitely received)

Also Eve is definitely a simp for Feroze. Before Manager left him for the rockstar, he had playlists upon playlists of the dude’s stuff from wayyy back then. Which still continued to the present and lessened the blow of your abandonment. At least you left him for someone worth your time.

Just imagine Feroze showing up to Eve’s studio for once. Amused, maybe even slightly concerned, over the amount of merch Eve has of him. Like he has the same guitar(s), posters . . . a used t-shirt ? Wait is that his hair —

Then rockstar looks through the internet to find smol early debut Eve always talking about him, reacting to his entire discography consistently on WLive, screeching his songs in fansigns.

. . .

He can work with this.

genie. please tell me Feroze isn't actually replacing manager and he and eve are actually bonding over their obsession with manager and will be even worse on them, pls I need to kno for my health

anyway HEADCANON TIIIIME!!!

Feroze is secretly feeling superior to Eve because you stayed with him despite how much of a headache he is, and didn't abandon him for a better deal like you did to Eve. Eve secretly feels superior because he was your 'first'.

Eve is dying to 'have' manager (ifykwimwinkwink) and is trying to get Feroze to give him juicy details of what you like. Idk how Feroze feels about this help lol

Feroze realizes very quickly that Eve is sweet and submissive compared to him, a goody two shoes, and makes him his minion. Now Feroze has a smaller version of himself flitting around doing his bidding, all with the goal of ensnaring you. You're hopeless now

When you get closer to Eve again and get really, really attached really quickly, it takes ten seconds for Feroze to get so scared he's about to call on a dark god to help him keep your favor.

You're now sandwiched in between an overtly dark yandere and a yandere who keeps his darkness well hidden. It's refreshing but overwhelming lol

(nonnie is talking about this post)

nah nah dw both of them would never even dream of replacing you!! so i can’t speak on eve’s behalf (you’ll have to ask yun for that) —

buuut what i can say is that though eve was not was feroze was expecting, they’ve both got something in common, and honestly? feroze, after realising just how similar they really are in their motives and desires, may be starting to develop a strange, twisted affection for him. (you see where this is going?)

granted, it’s a pleasant surprise. was he pissed at first, and ready to ruin eve’s life before he met him, after hearing you sing his praises, “my last client was an idol, and he was such an angel, rosy.” —?? yes. even after the initial meeting, both men still had their own little superiority complex. (feroze, because you’d stayed with him waaay longer, and eve, because he’d been your first, well, everything)

buuuut over time, realising the obsessive nature of the idol’s very.. parasocial relationship with you, how you generally didn’t mind being around him, how sweet and (surprisingly not irritating, feroze mused, watching the man warm up for their sessions with a speed exercise on the electric guitar) eve was — he sees… how should i put this — promising grounds for collaboration.

and i don’t mean that just for music, but maybe in keeping you happy and satisfied (in more ways than one) <3

isn’t is better you stick with the rockstar and the idol, instead of wandering off? besides, feroze would be lying if he said he hadn’t taken a liking towards eve, with his charming personality. eve’s looks and sweet words were just the cherry on top really. he was so eager for your approval and god it was adorable how easily you fell for it when feroze could see right through him.

because you are so horribly wrong of you think, even for a moment, eve is feroze’s minion. oh, he’s just as fucked up and possessive as your rockstar, only he’s better at hiding it, putting on this sweet, happy go lucky persona around you all the time, when his thoughts are anything but.

you know what they say: like calls to like.

their ‘relationship’ works so well because they’re polar opposites of each other. it’s like a constant game of good cop, bad cop except one’s a moody, scandalous rockstar and the other’s a well loved idol and an absolute sweetheart. they balance each-other out, but with their infatuation with you, and the means they’re willing to go with it, they’re so much more similar than they’d seem at first glance.

but how unlucky for you. :( if you thought dealing with one psycho musician hopelessly enamoured with you was enough, now you’ve got two.

good luck, dear manager — because god, you’re gonna need it <3

[allurilove]

Yandere Manager x singer you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere male manager x gender neutral singer reader, he’s secretly pining after you, your own little stalker, forbidden romance ig, male masturbation, takes pics of you sleeping, non con touching.

You met your yandere manager at the bar. You had been a part of a small band that never really made it big, but you always had shone brighter than the rest. You were magnetic, already having that star potential, and happened to sit right next to the man who worked for one of the best record companies. He just got off work, his sleeves pushed up above his elbow, and his glasses folded neatly next to him. He never really liked to drink, he was a different person when he did, but today was a special occasion. You were here. He already knew who you were, and he used a second low-key instagram account to see your stuff. He glanced at you. Your get-up was cute. He assumed that you came back from a concert or party, as there was a bit of confetti in your hair. You wore minimal and possibly sweat-proof makeup, and your eyes were striking with the black eyeliner.

Your manager sort of fell for you the first time he met you. It wasn’t easy to catch his attention, but you managed to do it. He had slid you his business card, paid for the rest of your drinks, and put on his best speech to convince you to sign with him. You became a solo artist in the blink of an eye, your singles and albums making it to the top forty, and you had the fame you wanted for so long. It just came with the price of having a stalker. As a manager, he had your location at all times. For safety purposes… of course. He threw a cap on, tiptoeing around the city to spy on you and your friends.

Your manager was responsible for your fan club. He would never tell you this, because it was simply embarrassing to admit, but he made a blog to gush about you. ‘A hundred reasons why you should stan y/n’ was the beginning of his secret outlet. He was the one that started the #manager and y/n would be cute hashtag on twitter, uploading a bunch of pictures of you and him having a ‘sweet’ moment. He spent hours scouring the internet to watch countless of edits of you, and he even made some himself. His cold and methodical demeanor would disappear the moment he was in the comfort of his home. He would lay in his bed, giggling and kicking his feet, twirling a piece of his hair as his eyes lit up at the sight of you on his screen.

Your manager acts like a helicopter parent. He’s always on your ass. He never texts you paragraphs or long sentences, so he could spam you and make sure you had definitely seen his messages.

“Where are you?”

“Out drinking again?”

“What happened to being responsible?”

“You have a show in two days.”

“I’ll be disappointed in you if you are drunk.”

“You better be at my house in two seconds.”

“Two seconds or I’m coming to get your ass.”

He liked you being drunk (only when you were around him). You would mumble and whine, his name on your lips constantly as you complained. And he got to be your hero for a while. He also forbids you from having any groupies. If you and him can’t fuck, then you can’t see anyone else. It was as simple as that. He couldn’t stomach the idea of you being with other people, and that’s why he had you at his apartment 24/7. When you were traveling for your shows, you best believe it that he was with you too. To him, it felt like you guys were practically married. Living together on the same bus, cooking together, sleeping near each other in close quarters. He would never cross the line when you were conscious; but when you were sleeping… it was free game.

The yandere manager took pictures of you. You were so worn out after your concerts, that you didn’t feel him moving your body. You trusted him because he gave you zero reasons not to. You trusted him enough that you didn’t expect him to start peeling off your clothes. He wanted his camera roll to be filled with your body. He gently put his hand on your thighs, squeezing the fat as he snapped a picture of you in your underwear. His fingers would sometimes find its way inside your mouth, subtly testing out your gag relax, and filming it for his pleasure. He flipped you onto your stomach, pushing your legs apart with his knee, and had his camera working hard to catch up with his thumb. He rapidly pressed against the button, trying to catch all the angles of your ass and sex.

Your manager touches his dick when you send him raw recordings of your voice. You were a night owl, your brain never shutting down until three a.m. and you sent him new songs you were working on. He plugged in his earbuds, lying back onto his bed, and hit play. He hummed the newest lyrics, his eyes closing as his hand slowly traveled down towards his crotch. He palmed himself, feeling his dick hardening in his grey sweatpants. He wanted you badly.

Your manager thought you were perfect, drop dead gorgeous and fucking hot. You have this sex appeal that makes his knees weak. He imagined you whispering the words to him: the heat of your voice warming the side of his face, your hand feeling up this tip, and wrapping around his long cock. Would you think that his dick was impressive? Would you be happy with how much cum that shoots out? Would you love it so much to gulp all of it down?

“Fuckin’ hell. Take it down your throat.”

“You love this don’t you? My big star.”

Your yandere manager wanted to sleep with you so badly. But he swore to himself to not get involved with another one of his clients. He groaned, his eyes opening to stare at his blank white ceiling, and his desperate cock softened in his hand. He hadn’t gotten any action lately, and he was oh so waiting to find the perfect moment to be with you.

Allure: extra stuff! idk i feel iffy about this fic

this is definitely reader and yandere managers text messages.

[reveluving]

cold little kisses ; yandere!singer x reader

summary: Omar's love knows no bounds.

warnings: s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: I LOVE @oncomingnight 's OCs to BITS, but Omar has been haunting me for DAYS. OP if you're reading this, hi!! Quick question; is the man in the original post like someone someone? ‘Cause he now comes to mind whenever I think of him ✋🏼😔 Hope you don't mind me giving this sweetheart a go! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

'But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.' ;

Smut includes: unprotected sex (p in v), cockwarming, slight teasing & marking, drools & sweat, body worship, soft!dom!Omar!

Omar believed you were God's gift at its purest form, and to be the luckiest son of a gun when you bestowed before him that very day?

Absolute miracle.

There was no way he could have wiped the lovestruck smile off his face every morning, waking up to you in your most vulnerable.

The extravagant sight of Quebec was already a treat as it was, enjoying the spot with his wife was another. He was more than content to watch you marvel at the snowy night, eyes twinkling in the fairy lights as the snowflakes fell on you like an extraordinary being blessing the Earth, but that would be unceremonious of him.

“Omar, look.” You gasped for the umpteenth time tonight, bending down at the line of the nation's quintessential souvenirs, handcrafted in ways that would surely grab the attention of first-time tourists. Those familiar with the renowned singer were kind enough to leave him and his beloved be, going only as far as taking a picture of the two from a distance to share on their social media later and rake in OMGs or any other forms of awe.

That, and many were smart enough to stay away, having witnessed the more intimidating side of him online at the mere mention of you in manners that never sat right with him.

“Would you like that one?” He asked, his deep voice never failed to send shivers down your spine.

“Omar, we already have so much.” You raised the bags in your hands, plus motioning to the majority that he had offered to hold. Brows furrowing a little in a way that you feel guilty that he has to play tour guide for you, no matter how many times you have visited.

“Well, who else is going to beautify our new bookshelf, if not you?” He chuckled, languidly walking over to stand next to you. He briefly surveyed the souvenirs through the glass, only for his eyes to flit towards you within seconds, prompting your face to burn, despite the chilly air hitting you, “We're buying it.”

Omar ducking his head was a telltale sign of him wanting to steal a kiss, but rather than feeling his lips on yours, he pecked the cold tip of your nose. Embarrassed by the affectionate display in public, you hid your face in his chest, your giggles vibrating through him.

That didn't stop him from showering you with more, planting kisses after kisses on the top of your head while he rested his free hand on the small of your back.

But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.

Your eyes were brimming with tears, glassy to the point where you couldn't pinpoint the nature on the other side of the window beyond silhouettes. Your mind was no better, your brain already in the midst of turning mush in favour of him prodding your cervix.

He cooed at you, akin to a delicate flower if not for the way one of his hands gripped at your ass tightly. Blunt nails leaving marks for him to appreciate in the next sunrise. His other hand lightly held the back of your head, leaving you no choice but to stare back at him in a drunken haze.

Omar welcomed your drools and tears dripping down his chest, occasionally leaving damp marks on his shirt, all unbuttoned but barely removed from his shoulders. The half-disheveled look on him was a sight to behold, the oh-so-put-together-singer nowhere to be seen.

You felt full, and you were full, the stretch around him evident when bouncing you up and down his cock required his aid. You would've fallen back or sagged in his arms if not for his own holding you snug against his chest. Although, that didn't mean he wasn't seconds away from losing himself into the feeling either—falling back into the velvet seat with one arm around you, chest heaving in shallow breaths and skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

His body akin to a Greek God, created to worship his one and only with loyalty, riches and silk, and protect you from the dangers of humanity alone, or even the unforgiving weather that occured beyond the safety of his luxurious cabin.

Lost in the way you squeezed him each time he rolled his hips, he surged forward, wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled tits. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his face further into your breasts as he shamelessly looked up at you through his lashes.

“Omar…” You hiccuped, brushing your lips against his forehead, moving your hips when he stilled you for a moment. It felt sickly sweet. something only he had the privilege of—of your body and soul, “Move, please…”

He couldn't say no to you, not now, not ever, even if he wanted nothing more than to listen to your pretty voice and hold you real close.

So long your lips, your mind, your you—could do nothing more than reciprocate his own desires, he'd only stop at his own expense when hell freezes over.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» Bonus HC from the train pic on OP's post:

I love the thought of Omar, with his reading glasses as he writes the lyrics of his upcoming song on a journal and casually drinks his coffee. But he's also watching his beloved play a one-player card game in front of him with a warm smile. UGH.

» deadass could not help it. this is one of those 'if I don't do something about it, no matter how short or quick it is, I'll sure as hell think about it for a LONG time.' ksjslsksls ;; tagging @firefly-graphics for the gorgeous divider ♡

[coffee-and-tea-time]

♪.•*¨*•.¸¸♬ Oh, I could hear you for a lifespan and more  ♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Hello! Coffee and Tea talking!

We really sorry for disappearing so long but we got two things planned for y'all, first one, we got some asks directly talking to us wich we love and found very cute so we plan to make a separate post for Q&A and replying to cute asks, so if anyone feels shy about asking something or saying something, it’s your time, just shoot! We love yapping with you guys fr fr ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ - Coffee

Secondly, we are glad to inform you guys of our Valentine’s Day special!! it will consist of any of our characters answering your asks about them directly! so if you have something cheesy you’d like to say to any of our babies, go right ahead through asks! - Tea 

if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins

count word: 3k

tw: panic, lowkey sarcastic reader, spanish words (translation at the end), yandere behavior, an idiot, little paranoia, writing in you/yours, reader always getting interrupted, overall fluff, rich yandere, willing reader 

Doesn’t it sound like an easy choice? The one that stands out the most!

 Your smile widens, imagining who might be behind this enigmatic title of “the singer” there was no spinning it, the mysterious yet extravagant summary the smiling seller told you totally bought you. Is this your wattpad moment? where you suddenly start living with Harr-

“Ejem, if you might excuse my forwardness, But I advise you to quicken this process since waiting for long can turn… complicated for our candidates, and management, and the general public. Though by the looks of it I think you’ve already made a decision, Dear. So tell me, who’s the lucky one? that gets to not turn even more crazy than they already are”

“Well, I want the singer… Please”

You give the seller a shy smile, hoping you don't look too pretentious with your choice but you don’t have time to dwell on it much. Before you knew it, the seller was already shaking your hands congratulating you for your decision before slipping away to make a quick call  to who you guess is the yandere. Now that you think about it… Why had nobody chosen him before? like, it’s a very obviously perfect option, maybe he was new in the system or som-

“Dear, sorry for my disrespectful interruption of your thoughts again, but I must inform you that the limo is here, seems like Angelo wants to give you a blissful and boastful first impression! It was a pleasure to meet you, Darling”

The seller attempts to try and kiss your hand, but the chauffeur snaps your hands away from him saying he got clear orders of not letting anyone touch you, the seller just chuckles and raises his hands before getting back into the shop.

You stood there a little dazed before finally realizing the kind of future that lay ahead of you. Following the chauffeur, who swiftly guides you into the vehicle, You find that inside there’s even some snacks for you to enjoy through the ride but a little knot on your stomach deters you from indulging. You chose and signed the papers quickly since it was what your heart desired but, shouldn’t you have asked more before choosing? You take a deep breath, reassuring yourself that  you’re just nervous, everything will be just as good or even better than what you picture it. 

Then you look out the tinted window… Where are you right now? What's this neighborhood? Every corner is covered in fancy arrangements and decor which amuses you. Eventually, you pull out your phone to check how much longer it takes getting to this place coincidentally as the car stops its movement and interrupts your train of thought yet again.

The door of the car is opened before you get the chance to even lift a finger and you are greeted by the angelic face of a man, worthy of praise and worship, smiling down at you and offering his hand as to help you get out of the car

"Hi~, welcome welcome, how are you feeling on such a joyful day as today? I hope that you are as thrilled as I am"

He says with a charming smile, holding your hand delicately for you to exit the car then  guides you into his house, his eyes ogling you like a three course meal. 

"Would you like something to drink? A water perhaps? I don't really have much sugary drinks since I have to take good care of my vocal cords, but if that's what you'd enjoy, then I'll absolutely find a way to get it for you"

"Oh, I'm really fine, don't wor-"

His step falters before stopping dead in his tracks, his smile softening in… awe? He shuffles closer as your voice trails off by the sudden action.

"Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry to interrupt your words, I just couldn't help but get closer… you speak so softly, I'd wish to hear you more clearly"

He puts his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, though it quickly moves up to your neck, his thumb caressing the side of your throat.

"You shouldn't overthink too much, your duty here is being happy with me, and when I'm not around, feel free to enjoy your free time as you wish; my only condition here is you take care of yourself and… to not look at anyone else in the eye for too long… but well, you should’ve already expected that, you signed for it, honey"

You shy your gaze away from those hazel eyes that seem to adore you so much, but he gently holds your face with his other hand, gently moving your face to look at him as he caresses your cheek with his thumb.

“Angelo. of course I-”

As you were about to get your first lovely tender moment with your dream yandere; someone interrupts, you couldn’t see who, Angelo quickly pulls you into a safe hug, with your face on his chest, like protecting a precious yet fragile gem. You also failed to see his murderous glare, silly cute fool. 

“What?”

“Angel, hay una llamada urgente, es tu manager, es algo relacionado al concierto del mes que viene” 

….Huh? Spanish? 

“¿Otra vez jodiendo con lo mismo? Ya lo cancele, que deje de molestar… Ahí voy, es capaz de venir hacía acá si no le contesto, podes irte”

Clueless of the situation, you keep still comfy in the hug as he pats your head, he really uses a good cologne, just when you hear footsteps falling away. is when he loosens his grip and looks back at you with a soft smile before kissing your cheek.

“Sorry I can't give you a good tour at this moment Honey, my manager is calling for some urgent work matters, hope you can forgive me. In the meantime, a maid can show you around our backyard or you can ask her to guide you to your room. I decorated it myself, very standart, so you can change it as you like, Darling. I’m thrilled to see your precious self around each corner in the mansion, because everything you choose or touch will be always have your print on it” 

He kisses you hand before calling the headmaid, a woman who gives you the impression of a sweet grandmother who bakes cookies and pies. As you two were left alone, she giggles and offers to walk you around the garden, which  you gladly accept. 

“Oh, look this one was chosen by one of the butlers, the name is a real tongue twister for me ‘rhododendron’ or something like that, I'm too busy to keep worrying about memorizing such a name. Oh dear, sit inside the gazebo, it has such a good view of the garden, would you rather have some tea or coffee? I’ll bring you some to enjoy this evening”

You thank her as you giddily enter the gazebo and sit on one of the chairs around a little tea table. You were enjoying the view as you imagined cute things to do with Angelo, but it seems like today is the day that everyone decides to interrupt you. A loud noise startled you, a man dressed formally was gasping for air, cold sweat on his face as if he saw Ghostface or something. 

“You have to get out of here��

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

You watch him hurry to you and grab you by the arm but by reflex you pull back in the opposite direction, like if it were some siblings fighting you two on each side of the table, moving when the other moves. You remember his voice, he is the one that interrupted you earlier with Angelo.

“You need to run, he’s a fucking psycopath”

Oh, what a surprise. The yandere is a psychopath, wow.  Wait, it’s surely not common that other people around them knew about their yandere antics, what are you supposed to do now? Fuck, maybe you really should have bought that manual for 'how to take care of your yandere' when they offered it to you on the website to know what to do in this moment.

“Okey, I think I know what are you worried about, believe me, it isn’t a problem, I-”

“YOU DO NOT KNOW! That psycho, some time ago- he started saying he needed to prepare for his angel of music and at first I thought he was paroding tha phantom of the opera, but then he began firing a lot of people, he only allowed the old servants and people that weren’t able to speak english to remain, I learned the language in secret since I can’t let this happens to someone. He wants to trap you and control you in…”

And then, you stopped listening, this wannabe of a hero is kinda getting on your nerves. Yeh yeh, psychopaths are bad, you know, you care? Nope, you literally had to go through so much paperworks and half of it asked if you were sure of it, even going through a psychological test! This guy isn’t just about to stress you out on your perfect day where you finally got your dream lover for life. But before you could tell this guy to leave you alone, the maid that treated you like a granddaughter was calling for you. You were about to happily go when the weirdo grabbed you by your arm and told you to remember what he said… 

Anyways, you ignore him and act as if he doesn’t exist as you make your way to the smiling grandma waiting for you.

“Oh, sorry for making you come all the way here dear, but sir Angelo asked if you could please have the merienda with him, don’t worry. Angelo already informed us all about what would be of your taste, hope you enjoy it”

…

Ah, you really couldn’t wish for today to be more perfect, you practically spent the whole day with Angelo clinging to you and wanting to know so much about you like a cute puppy. You did not expect him to suddenly drive you to a restaurant that got your favorite food as a specialty for dinner but you sure as hell aren’t complaining. How did he know? You don't know and you pretty much don’t care, much less as when you are on your new room, in the comfiest pajamas you could ever think of, cozy laying on a damn soft bed while your hair is getting so lovingly caressed, both of you spending your time talking since neither wished to separate from the other.

“Okay Angel, I answered so many of your questions, now you answer mine….. Oh yeah, you mentioned that you liked  the process of composing a song a lot. Tell me, how is it? How does it feel?”

“Well Honey, you see, so sometimes people write music using music theory and some just go with intuition. I'm an intuition guy and… it feels kind of like pouring your heart out, how the song turns out is only partly intentional, you can say it's like love itself, you can’t fully control it, it just pops into your heart and you just need to let it out”

“And since it is like love, let me throw you another question related, how do you feel love?”

He chuckled softly as he kissed your cheek before standing up from the bed and beginning to talk as he guided you towards the door.

“A curious bunny, aren't we? Well, I don't think there's a way to properly explain love, and in our case it is even harder to put in words, you feel it. like that cute blush when I kissed you cheek, the little giggles we shared today, the loving glances,gestures, words… the endless need of protection, the endless wish for the other, the eternal devotion, the way the heart jumps overly excited nonstop and every word you precious voic-... Sorry my dear, I seem to have grown a little excited over there, hope you can excuse my behavior… I’m just so so so so intoxicatedly in love, you should rest now Honey, believe me, you will have no way to doubt my love. I will be in the room next door if you need a human body pillow to cuddle you to sleep; dulces sueños, Amor”

As he closes the door behind him, you are left there with a foolish smile, giggling as you hug your pillow while recalling the events of the day and think of what’s in stock for you. Will it be too much to really get into his room for cuddles and see his reaction? The only thought made you kick your feet yet again, before you could make a choice, a hand appeared from below the bed, scaring the shit out of you and just when you were about to scream to alert Angelo. The guy gets out from under the bed, revealing himself as the guy from before but this time wearing some spy costume.

“I’m here for you! I’m sorry I couldn’t come any sooner, it would have been so difficult to be in the same bed with that monster so close to you, you must feel so nauseous”

Yeah, so nauseous that you were just about to try to sneak into his room.

“Do not fear, I been working here for some time, I know every corner, we can escape together, I can’t let you be here alone with that, I must save you”

Buddy… there's less painful ways to die, seriously.

You stood there already seeing how this is gonna end because of this delusional man who doesn’t know how to get out of matters that don't concern him, this is no movie and he is gonna piss off the person he really should avoid getting mad.

“Hey, listen, I get that you are doing something that really shows how good morals you have, but this is entirely consensua- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

“What I must!”

Is he fucking deaf or something? He suddenly grabbed you and is trying to get you out of the room by force! You can’t believe that the one kidnaping you isn’t the loving stalker you signed up for…

Oh oh

You swear you can hear how you are about to get a heart attack as adrenaline rushes to your veins, while you were fighting the maniac to let you go, he manages to get you just outside your door, and when you turn your head to ask for help, in the end of the hallway there he is: Angelo, who seems to have lost the lovesick eyes, his eyes now blown wide and unblinking with a crazed look and bloodshot pupils. His smile didn't fade away; though it was no longer warm as it had been the whole day. Then you remember one of the major rules you were told as you signed the papers to have a yandere. 

DO NOT TRY TO ESCAPE

Does this count as trying to escape? You didn't even plan to! This dumbass moron is going to make your angel have a heavy mental breakdown! Fuck, think quickly, think quickly.

As Angelo start running towards you and the guy also tries to drag you on the opposite direction, you take the opportunity he is not focusing in you to grab one of the fancy little vases decorating the hallway and smash it into his face, that wouldn't kill him, it’s just enough for him to lose his grip on you. You run towards Angelo, that was a second or so to catch up to you anyways, hyperventilating as your face collides with his chest, he tightly holds you, whispering how glad he is that you are good and that you weren't really trying to escape from him. His focus quickly switches to the apparently crazy man wincing because of his wounds and screaming how this is not right.

“Llevenselo… al sótano especial, se ve que nuestro amigo se muere por conocerlo, haganle el favor. Yo iré a verlo mañana…” 

You stay here frozen as from the corner of your eye you catch a man and a woman walking out of the shadows and swiftly knock the guy out before dragging him to who knows where, and in the back of your mind, you know it’s better that way; though… Why were they so close to your room?

“Oh, my sweet sweet honey, i’m so sorry you been thought al that… ah, you must be wondering who those were… you can say they are security elements my love, you know, there’s a record of people that regret the choice of having a yandere and try to escape and I didnt want to take any chances of something happening to my oh so precious dear, come here, you’re shaking a lot, lets go inside my room were I can tuck you into the bed, cuddle you and, most importantly, keep you safe”

You follow him as he makes sure you don’t lose your balance as the adrenaline washed away, getting you again in the bed as he holds you close with one arm and with his free hands he continues to caress your hair softly.

“My loving darling, I hope you can see how the security was so needed, you could really end up hurt… oh my poor sweetie, tomorrow we should just stay inside beside each other, what about eating all your favorite treats? We can watch that movie you love so much or search for something new. Oh, I saw you enjoying the garden, there’s a special hidden spot where I planted saloryss, you're gonna love it. Just us clinging and doing things together, being cute lovey dovey forever and ever, Hunny”

As he continues saying sweet things to you or planning things to do with you, you realize… this is the choice you made and you couldn't be more happy about it, more so when he starts peppering your face with kisses as he notices you lost in thought, even if it started strong, this is the kinda love you always wish for: eternal love… your boyfriend is truly so cute hehe.

Love is truly blind, huh?

........

Translation of the dialogues in spanish (not so literal in so parts to help keep the vibe of the phrase):

“Angelo, hay una llamada urgente, es tu manager, es algo relacionado al concierto del mes que viene” = “Angelo, there’s an urgent call, is your manager, is something related to the concert the next month”

“¿Otra vez jodiendo con lo mismo? Ya lo cancele, que deje de molestar… Ahí voy, es capaz de venir hacía acá si no le contesto, podes irte” =  “bothering me with the same shit again? I've already canceled it, he should stop annoying me...I’ll go in a moment, he's capable of coming here if I don't answer him, you can leave."

“Merienda” = Is a light meal between lunch and dinner, think of it like tea time tho if its sweet or not, depends on the taste of the person.

“...Dulces sueños, Amor” = “Sweet dreams, Love”

“Llevenselo… al sótano especial, se ve que nuestro amigo se muere por conocerlo, haganle el favor. Yo iré a verlo mañana…”  = “Take him away.. to the special basement. It seems that our friend is dying to visit, do him the favor. I will go see him tomorrow…”

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

image from pinterest ⚘

[2-dsimp]

Are you still doing scenarios? If so, can I suggest a yandere celebrity with a reader that's a fan of theirs?

Maybe The yandere is a singer in a famous band that sees the reader as his 'muse'.

【meet the Harpy pt1!】

【Y/N】 Being happy to be at their favorite rock band concert and is Vibing in the front row crowd

《Harpyboi》 Searching like a madman for any trace of his muse within the crowd.

《He spots you.》

《Harpyboi》 ‘OMG they’re wearing my courting gift. They want me! They need me..!’

‘T h e y l o v e m e . . .’

《Harpyboi》 Who immediately rips the backstage pass from his managers hands after the show. And kidnaps you to his private nesting spot where y’all could have your own private “meet and greet session”.

。

。

。

TBC

I don’t got a name for the harpy boi sooo I’m gonna ask y’all for some suggestions using any of these letters below (>^ω^<)

→ HLPSUVWX

[hana-no-seiiki]

busy working on a few illusts…

mr 2ft is absolutely freezing his ass off because he stole manager’s glasses

(they fucked up his wardrobe)

[ most recent wip ]

[ yandere rockstar (feroze) x reader x yandere idol (eve) fic ]

[pipsqueaks89934]

Yandere orc hunter x human singer reader

Warnings: kidnapping, getting knocked out, chained to the floor, and forced to sing.

You were singing at the local bar since you needed money and they needed entertainment so it was a win-win situation, you were on your break when a large Orc came in with a hog on his shoulders walking and placing it on the bar before one of the workers came up to him.

“Thanks for the meat, same time next week?” the bartender asked him as she picked up the pig.

“Yeah,” he answered while sitting down at the bar. “Can I get a drink before I go?”

“Of course, anything for our hunter,” she said with a smile before walking to the back. “Let me just put this away!”

Once your break was over you went back on stage to sing. As you sang you noticed the Orc was looking at you with an intense gaze while drinking from a beer mug. You reach your last song as the bar is about to close and once you finish singing you get your stuff together and get ready to leave.

“You’re a good singer,” you heard a deep voice say from behind you and jumped in surprise as you turned around to face the big orc you saw earlier. “What's your name?”

“Y/n…” you say once your heart slows down.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said while towering over you. “My name is Korgak.”

“Well, I have to go home now,” you say awkwardly while trying to leave the bar. “It was nice meeting you, sir.”

“Korgak,” he said as he walked closer. “My name.”

“Right, I'll remember that,” you smile nervously at him. “But if you will excuse me I have to get home before it gets too late.”

You left the bar in a hurry after that. As you walked home you felt something hit your head before blacking out. When you woke up you were in an unfamiliar place.

“Ah, you are up,” you heard a familiar voice say as you tried to get up only to struggle by the chains around your wrists that were connected to the floor. “I've been watching you for a while little human.”

“Let me go!” you say while standing your ground.

“No you're mine now and now that I have you I'm never going to let you go!” he said before going back upstairs and leaving you in the dark.

After that, you cried a lot for many reasons but mainly when he wanted you to sing for him.

[crimson-kisses]

彼岸花

Characters/fandoms/pairings: Yandere! Honda Kiku || Japan [Hetalia] x F! Reader.

Warning: This story will contain explicit yandere themes, proceed with caution [includes mentions of graphic violence and implied stalking]

Author's note: this idea for a short drabble had been on my mind for days after seeing this yandere japan fanart by @purplemistbutterfly and I just had to write it. Wc- 4, 557.

Also, remember that lot has been going around the world lately, try to educate yourself and contribute as much as you can.

The glow of neon lights wrapped around you like a comforting embrace as you lounged on a plush sofa, the strains of your own recordings playing softly in the background. Each note echoed through the modest bar, creating a dreamy atmosphere that felt almost otherworldly. The chandelier flickered, casting delicate colors across the room, and for a moment, you felt suspended in a haze, as if the world around you had faded away.

In the background, the clinking of glasses and the soft murmur of conversation filled the air. A waitress, young and diligent, bustled about, balancing trays of drinks with practiced grace, exchanging light banter with the bartender, who was busy mixing cocktails. Their laughter mingled with the music, a gentle reminder of the life that pulsed through the club as it prepared for the evening rush.

With a soft sigh, you swung your legs off the sofa, the hem of your dress swirling around you for an instant. The sharp click of your heels against the floor grounded you, pulling you back into the moment.

You absentmindedly twirled a strand of your hair around your fingers, a pang of longing washing over you. How you wished you could sing forever—such a melodramatic thought, you mused.

Just then, a waitress removed the ashtray from the coffee table, her movements graceful. She caught your eye and offered a warm smile, one that reflected the admiration so many in this lively city had for you. Young yet industrious, she, like others, found joy in your performances, and their support felt like a quiet reminder of your modest fame.

It was the perfect balance—enough recognition to feel appreciated, yet not so much that it became overwhelming. You cherished this intimate space, where your talent was seen and valued, untainted by the harsh demands of larger stages.

With a roll of your shoulders, you decided to freshen up. You applied a light layer of makeup, your dress—a flowing creation with delicate crow motifs—draped around your legs. The fabric shifted with each subtle movement, catching the light in a way that made the motifs seem alive.

You slipped on your heels and styled your hair with careful hands, confident in your skill, the way you always did before a performance. After sending away the helpful crew who insisted on doing it for you, you prepared to step into the night, ready to captivate once more.

The stage shimmered like a midnight sky, lit with soft, silvery lights that twinkled like distant stars. You felt like a solitary bird, singing a lullaby that might go unheard by the vastness of the world, yet here, every note held significance. The melody flowed from your lips, soft and effortless, as your body swayed gently to the rhythm.

The rest of the world faded away, leaving just you, the music, and the connection with those who listened. It was ironic, really—this was when most eyes were on you, and yet you felt as though you were suspended in a private world of your own making.

The audience was a mix of familiar faces and newcomers, all drawn in by the magic you created on stage. Among them were well-dressed gentlemen, some leaning back with arms crossed, others inching forward, their eyes following your every move with intrigued intensity. Nearby, women whispered excitedly, their giggles escaping as they listened. Business elites, seeking respite from the fast-paced world outside, sat quietly, their faces softening as they allowed themselves to relax, appreciating the intimacy of this setting over the grandeur of larger performances.

At other tables, university students exchanged glances between sips of their drinks, entranced by your voice, some even whispering your name as though they’d stumbled upon a secret treasure. Local workers, still in their uniforms, unwound from their long shifts, leaning back in their chairs with drinks in hand, their faces softened with quiet smiles as your melody soothed their weary souls.

In the background, the diligent staff moved seamlessly through the space, balancing trays of drinks, refilling glasses, and clearing tables. The bartender, a seasoned expert with quick hands, mixed cocktails with the precision of an artist, casting the occasional glance toward the stage, a faint smile always tugging at his lips. The waitstaff worked with a rhythm of their own, exchanging light banter with regulars and newcomers alike.

They were your quiet champions, always turning down the big offers from record companies that sought to pull you into the commercialized world of fame. They knew, as you did, that this setting was where you truly wished to be.

Your performance was more than just a routine; it was an extension of yourself, a moment of vulnerability wrapped in music. The spotlight gently framed your figure, casting a soft glow that danced with the notes as they escaped your lips. Your hands lifted, almost as if guiding the melody itself, and for those moments on stage, nothing else mattered.

The sway of your dress, adorned with delicate crow motifs, moved like shadows across the floor, adding an air of mystery to your presence.

And though you weren’t chasing the grandeur of fame, there was a certain power in these performances. The connection you felt with the audience—each gaze, each whisper of your name—made you feel seen in ways that the glare of the public eye never could.

You weren’t a star striving to shine in the vastness of the sky; you were the moon casting light over an enchanted crowd, and in this bar, in this moment, that was enough.

What you didn’t notice was the quiet presence lingering at the edge of the room, like a shadow among the warm glow of lights. Hidden in the dim corners, a pair of dark, inscrutable eyes watched you—deep and unfathomable, reminiscent of still waters reflecting a moonlit sky.

His gaze followed your every movement, simmering with an adoration that burned slowly, as insidious as poison, blending seamlessly with the night. And just before you left the stage, he muttered softly to himself, barely audible over the music,

“カラスは…これから来るものの前兆だ。”

His lips curled into a subtle, unsettling smile, as though the omen had already taken root.

“ダーリン。”

════════════════════════════

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision when Feliciano had eagerly dragged Kiku out of the house, his voice embarrassingly loud in front of everyone. With excitement gleaming in his eyes, he insisted that Kiku join him at a nearby bar, one he claimed had a cozy atmosphere. 

He went on about the drinks, the people, and especially the woman there whose voice he described as angelic, able to make anyone forget their troubles. Kiku raised an eyebrow—he knew Feliciano, and any woman could be deemed an angel in his eyes, so he wasn’t sure whether anyone could truly live up to that praise.

Despite his reluctance, Kiku followed, feeling a mixture of resignation and annoyance. The last thing he wanted was to be dragged out like this, especially for something so undignified. He could already imagine the kind of chaos Feliciano would create in such a quiet setting.

As they entered the bar, Kiku sighed. The warm lighting and low hum of conversation created a peaceful atmosphere, but he wasn’t impressed. His eyes scanned the room, seeking something of interest to distract himself. That’s when he spotted Ludwig across the room.

Ludwig was seated at a table, his gaze fixed intently on a brunette in a maid outfit who was laughing with a group of friends. Kiku noted how serious Ludwig appeared, his focus unwavering as he studied her every move with an almost unsettling intensity. When their eyes met, Ludwig gave him a brief nod, which Kiku returned with a slight bow. It was typical of Ludwig to maintain such seriousness, even in a casual setting.

Next to Ludwig sat Francis, effortlessly charming a group of businesswomen with his smooth foreign accent. His laughter filled the air easily, a stark contrast to Ludwig’s quiet intensity. Kiku watched the scene with mild amusement. It was familiar, but somehow still entertaining to see Francis working his charm.

Feliciano, oblivious to the dynamics of the group, continued to rave about the bar’s ambiance. Kiku couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh. Maybe there was something to enjoy in this unexpected gathering of familiar faces, but he wasn’t convinced.

Then the music began.

A soft, haunting melody slowly rose, weaving through the air like a gentle current, filling the space around them. Kiku, sinking into his seat in one of the private booths, instinctively turned his focus toward the sound. The bar was cozy, the conversation still flowing around him, but it was the music that truly drew him in.

He glanced toward Ludwig again, who seemed to have relaxed a little, a few drinks in, with the brunette now sitting on his lap. Despite the change in posture, the intensity in Ludwig’s gaze remained. Kiku shifted his focus back to the music, feeling the soft notes caress the air. Despite their slow pace, they held power, quieting the noise in his mind.

The voice that accompanied the melody was captivating—rich, smooth, hypnotic. It settled into Kiku’s chest, making his thoughts slow and his senses sharpen. The world around him dimmed as he focused only on the sound, letting the voice wrap around him like a spell. For a brief moment, he forgot where he was, lost to the music.

As the notes filled him, something shifted inside, like a spark igniting in the stillness of his chest. An unfamiliar hunger stirred—dangerous, intoxicating. The voice, the melody—it awoke something deep within him, something he hadn’t been prepared to feel.

Kiku found himself utterly fixated. His usual caution and restraint were slipping away as the voice continued to draw him in. He couldn’t tear his attention away, lost in the depth of it, as if everything else faded into the background.

From that night on, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He watched you from afar, noting the softness in your manner, the strength in your resolve. You were kind, diligent, and full of quiet grace, drawing him in further with each passing day.

Kiku, always careful, had never allowed himself to indulge in such obsession, but now, something darker began to take hold. He hired someone to hack into your devices, learning your secrets, uncovering the hidden corners of your life. Each discovery only deepened his infatuation.

You lived simply, but there was an undeniable elegance in everything you did. Each morning, you made matcha tea, savoring it slowly as you tended to your modest garden. Cherry blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, chrysanthemums bloomed in vibrant bursts, and bonsai trees stood carefully pruned, each one a testament to your patience.

You had a quiet generosity too—leaving bowls of rice or fish out for the stray cats that wandered into your yard, a small act of kindness that you believed brought good fortune. He watched, fascinated by the peace you found in these little rituals.

In the afternoons, you volunteered at the local community center, helping the elderly with their daily tasks. You prepared sweet treats like mochi and dorayaki, listening to their stories, sharing in their wisdom. You were always engaged, always giving, connecting deeply with the community around you.

And when the seasonal festivals came around, you danced with your neighbors, laughed with friends, and participated in the celebrations that honored yourself. The kindness you spread was subtle but powerful, a thread that tied you to the people around you. To him.

Kiku couldn't stop watching, couldn't stop learning more about you. You were everywhere he looked—your life, your kindness, your quiet grace—it all consumed him, filling the space in his mind, until it became impossible to ignore.

════════════════════════════

"生一緒にいたい"

He repeated it over and over, the words slipping past his lips like a prayer, each time more fervently, each time more desperate. The phrase carved itself into his soul, filling the hollow space within him.

"私のもの…"

His eyes never strayed from you, not once. Always from the shadows, always watching. You didn’t notice him—never did. But he noticed everything. Every little movement you made. Every soft laugh that danced in the air. Each smile was like a dagger of desire. You were his. Only his.

"全てが私のものになる…"

He knew everything about you. The way your hair curled just right, the way your fingers brushed your lips in that nervous habit. The smallest details—details only he could see. He whispered your name to himself, savoring it, imagining the life you would share together, locked away from the world. Just the two of you.

"絶対に、君を失わない…"

Kiku's gaze was unwavering. You were everywhere. In the streets you walked, in the quiet little coffee shop you adored, in the park where you sat with that innocent, too-perfect smile. Everything was etched in his memory. Every single place, every single moment. He would wait. He would wait until you understood—until you realized that the only place you could ever belong was with him. Alone. Together.

“永遠に”

He loved you. More than love—it had become an obsession. A consuming, all-encompassing thing. Each little piece of your life, each small revelation only fanned the flames. How could someone so perfect exist? So effortlessly beautiful, so kind? You were everything he had longed for, everything he needed, and the thought of losing you was unbearable. His thoughts of you filled his every moment, his longing growing, desperate, never-ending.

He loved you. He couldn’t lose you. You were perfect. He loved you. He couldn’t lose you. You were perfect. He loved you. He couldn’t lose you. You were perfect.

He loved you. He couldn’t lose you. You were perfect. You were perfect. He loved you. You were perfect.

He loved you. You were perfect. He loved you. You were perfect. He loved you. You were perfect.

He couldn’t lose you. No. He wouldn’t lose you. Yes. He shouldn’t lose you. You were one of a kind.

Each day passed as if he were observing a film he had forgotten to look over from long ago.

Kiku had fallen deep in love with you. Everything he did was for you. In his mind, there was no difference between love and possession. You were the one thing he could never let go, the one thing that would make him whole.

And when that moment came—he would make sure there was no escape.

════════════════════════════

He had been attending every one of your performances, without fail. No matter the venue—whether it was an intimate gathering or an art house event tucked away from prying eyes—he always found his way there. He relished the exclusivity, the idea that only a select few could appreciate your art. To him, it was magnificent, and every second spent watching you felt sacred.

Soon, your shows became the highlight of his life. He rescheduled meetings, canceled national duties, all to linger in the shadows of your presence. Even during the most critical discussions, his mind often wandered. Politically important matters, ceremonies, decisions—they all paled compared to thoughts of you. Your voice, the arch of your hands, the grace you exuded—it consumed him.

The first time he approached you, you blushed under his gaze, avoiding his eyes as if overwhelmed. That small flicker of vulnerability stayed with him, replaying in his mind, each time more vivid than the last.

Watching you became a ritual, a sacred act. He sent small, thoughtful gifts—flowers from distant lands, hand-written letters, packages left at your door. He wanted you to feel seen, cherished, even if his gestures sometimes unsettled you. He even started bringing trusted officials and friends to witness your art. He wanted to show you off, to see their awe, as they recognized what he had come to adore.

But the closer he tried to get, the more distant you became. You had gently expressed discomfort with his gifts and appearances. His heart sank. That quiet rejection cut deeper than he’d anticipated. He called to you, begged you to reconsider, but you never wavered. Slowly, imperceptibly, you slipped from his grasp.

With every step you took away, his longing grew. Each polite refusal, each avoidance felt like a door closing. He told himself it was just a phase, that you would understand eventually. But time passed, and that hope began to fade, replaced by an aching frustration. How could you pull away from something so sincere? How could you not see how deeply he adored you? Did you truly believe you could escape?

“いや…いや...いや...いや...

いや! いや! いや!, いや!”

════════════════════════════

When he learned you’d be performing for a private group of university graduates, a spark of jealousy ignited deep within him. His jaw clenched as he imagined those men—laughing, cheering, acting as if they truly understood the value of what you offered.

How could they? They weren’t worthy of sharing the same room with you, let alone witnessing you in such an intimate setting. The thought of it, the idea of them being so close, felt like an intrusion into the sanctity he had carefully built around you.

He couldn't let it go. He had to be there. No matter what, nothing could stop him.

He slipped into the crowd unnoticed, taking refuge in a shadowed corner. His eyes never left you. Every movement you made, every gesture, was recorded in his mind. The group of graduates, so self-assured and too eager, didn’t know their place. They had no right to be near you.

He observed them as they settled, talking amongst themselves, casting glances in your direction. Their words grew louder, and Kiku’s grip on his calm began to slip. One man leaned over to his friend with a grin, eyes scanning you up and down. “I bet she’s just as beautiful up close, don’t you think?”

The other chuckled, clearly amused. “I wouldn’t mind finding out.”

The laughter that followed made Kiku’s chest tighten. They were nothing but animals, trying to mark their territory, and you were the prize they sought. But it didn’t stop there. As the evening went on, the men grew bolder. One of them, emboldened by a drink, approached you during a brief break in the performance. He placed his hand on your shoulder with too much familiarity, leaning in too close.

“Such a shame," he said, eyes glinting. "A woman with so much talent, and yet so few people to truly appreciate it." He let his hand linger just a moment too long, his thumb brushing against the back of your neck.

You recoiled slightly, discomfort flashing across your face, but you smiled politely. "Please, I'm fine," you said, your tone steady though Kiku could see the slight tension in your shoulders. "Please refrain."

The man smirked, taking your response as an invitation to press further. “You sure? You’re not one of those shy types, are you?”

You took a step back, holding your composure, but it was too much for Kiku. His pulse quickened. The tightness in his chest grew unbearable. He watched as the others, noticing the scene, began to snicker, sharing looks that made his blood boil. These men didn’t just admire you—they were treating you like an object, their entitled hands and crude remarks making his skin burn.

Kiku’s fists clenched, his breath shallow. His eyes locked onto the man’s hand, still resting on you, his touch inappropriate, invasive. A surge of fury coursed through him. How dare they think they could touch you? How dare they think they had any right to make you feel uncomfortable in any way?

The night had begun to unravel, and so had his patience.

The laughter continued to echo in his ears, mingling with the murmur of the crowd. But Kiku’s gaze remained steady, fixed on the men who dared to ruin this moment. He would let them think they were in control, that this was their night. But they had no idea what they had provoked.

He leaned slightly forward, lips curving into a cold smile. There were consequences. And they didn't even see it coming.

Not like he could help it. The thread had snapped, like the final stroke of a katana slicing through the air, severing the restraint he had so carefully maintained. The fire surged through his veins, fierce and unrelenting, as if Kagutsuchi, the god of flames himself, had set his soul alight. It consumed him—body, mind, and spirit—filling every corner of his being with an overwhelming heat, a rage that pulsed with ancient power.

His hand found the knife on the nearby table. The cold steel felt almost... familiar, as though it had been waiting for him, as if it were an extension of his own will. He raised the blade, the glint of metal flashing like the edge of a sword under moonlight, reflecting the fire now burning in his eyes. With each step toward them, he moved like a shadow, swift and decisive.

At this moment, nothing else mattered.

The first slash was quick, clean, and almost too easy. Blood splattered, painting the floor in red streaks, but Kiku didn’t care. The crimson stain of their lives was nothing compared to the purity of his desire. The warm, thick liquid sprayed across the room like the petals of a sakura in full bloom—scattered and gone in an instant, yet forever marking the earth beneath.

The thought of their hands on you, those impure hands, tainted him to his core. Their very existence had defiled something sacred. His heart thudded in his chest, a rhythmic pulse amid the chaos, his breath quick and uneven. How dare they even think of you like that?

Five of them. Five arrogant, filthy students, too blind to realize their actions, would cost them everything. He couldn’t let them live. Not after what they had tried to do.

“許せない、許せない、どうして…どうして君に触れた?”

The second slash came faster than the first, cutting down one of them as he collapsed to the floor, lifeless. Blood sprayed in a violent arc, mingling with their screams and desperate pleas. Kiku’s rage burned hotter, unstoppable now. They scrambled to escape, but it was too late. Another slash. Another life snuffed out in an instant.

He moved through them like a shadow, his strikes swift and merciless, as precise as death itself. They couldn’t escape. They shouldn’t have touched you. Their blood splattered across the floor, and it felt almost... cathartic.

The fourth one—a desperate, shaking figure—reached for the door in vain. Kiku closed in, catching him in an iron grip. A swift slash across the throat, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless, joining the others.

And then there was just one. The last student. Kiku walked toward him slowly, savoring the terror in his eyes, the hopelessness settling in as he realized there was no escape. His apologies fell on deaf ears; his words were useless. They meant nothing now—not when they had tormented so many others before they tried to harm you.

The final slash was quick, precise, and the last of the five fell without a sound. Kiku stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily, the knife still dripping with their blood. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the steady drip of blood hitting the floor.

He didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t care that he had taken their lives with his own hands. What mattered now was that they would never touch you again.

You were his. And no one, not a single soul, could take that away from him.

════════════════════════════

The knife slipped from Kiku’s fingers, clattering to the floor with a metallic thud, but he hardly noticed. His chest rose and fell, breath coming faster, as his gaze found you.

You.

Your figure trembled in the dim light, and in his eyes, you were like a spider lily in full bloom, a beautiful apparition drenched in red. Crimson painted you in streaks, trails of black running down your cheeks as you watched him, wide-eyed and tear-streaked, a delicate petal shaken by the storm.

Kiku’s breathing stopped, his heart halting in his chest as his world narrowed to you, only you. He was so close, close enough to catch the faint shiver in your frame, close enough to see the tears glistening in your eyes. It was intoxicating, a sight more beautiful than anything he had ever witnessed in his endless lifetime.

His fingers twitched, aching to reach for you, to trace those stains of red like brushstrokes on silk. You, trembling before him, so perfect, so untouched by anyone else’s taint—now his. His alone.

A slow, almost reverent exhale escaped his lips. No other nation, no other woman had ever sparked this feeling in him. In centuries of existence, through wars and alliances, through lifetimes of encounters, he had never felt this pull, this ache, until you.

The feeling was ancient, relentless, filling the depths of his soul like the tides. He had wanted many things, fought for many things, but this… this was different. A possession he had claimed, yet one he longed to cherish, to hold, to keep forever close.

He took a step forward, then another, as if entranced, his heartbeat finally catching up to the flood of emotions overwhelming him. You were his. And no one—no force, no man, no fate— would or could take that away.

His fingers brushed against the red phone in his pocket, pulling it out with a deliberate slowness. A dark smile curled on his lips as he held it up, his gaze never leaving you. His eyes traced every inch of your form, as if committing you to memory. His black suit was stained with crimson, the blood that had spilled from the chaos now forgotten, its significance drowned in the quiet tension between you.

The phone’s screen lit up, and with it, the soft click of the camera captured the moment. Another flash. The light illuminated your face, your trembling form, and your wide, fearful eyes. Kiku could almost taste the fear in the air, and he relished it, savoring every second.

You lay there, weak and trembling, your body unwilling to move but your mind screaming for escape. The dress you wore—delicate, lace-trimmed, a soft shade of pale pink—clung to your form, stained now with the same blood that marked his hands. It was a stark contrast to the nightmare unfolding around you.

Kiku’s smile remained serene, calm in a way that made your heart race, as if nothing were wrong. He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, slow, savoring the moment. The room was heavy with silence, your breathing the only sound filling the space. The blood spattered across his face, and yet his expression remained as composed as ever, as if this was some twisted art he was admiring.

"言ってみろ。もう二度と逃げないと言いな,"

Kiku whispered softly, his voice smooth, almost tender, but laced with an authority, a threat, a plea, a promise.

Say it. Say you'll never run away again.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even move. Fear had paralyzed you, and his gaze held you captive, making it impossible to tear your eyes away. Every instinct screamed for you to fight, to flee, but there was no escape. You were trapped in his world.

Kiku’s fingers pressed down on the phone’s screen one last time. Another flash. The light lingered, and in that brief moment, you saw the truth: he had captured you. Not just your image, but something deeper, something irreversible. You could never escape now. You were his.

And in that flash, it was sealed.

Forever.

[bpdbeehive]

Characters that possibly have all 9 of the symptoms of the BPD criteria

Must have 5 or more symptoms:

1. Chronic feelings of emptiness

2. Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events (e.g., intense episodic sadness, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

3. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment

4. Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

5. Impulsive behavior in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)

6. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)

7. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation (also known as "splitting")

8. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, threats, or self-harming behavior

9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

Ame-chan/kawaiiangel- Needy Streamer Overload

Annie Wilkes- Misery

Ayano- Yandere simulator

Bojack Horseman- Bojack Horseman

Catra- She-ra and the Princesses of Power

Cersei Lannister- Game of Thrones

Dandy Mott- American Horror Story

Dennis Reynolds- It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Harley Quinn- DC

Homura Akemi- Madoka Magica

Jason Dean- Heathers

Jinx- Arcane

John Doe- Telltale Batman

Kanato Sakamaki- Diabolik Lovers

Marla Singer- Fight Club

Misa Amane- Death Note

Mizore Shirayuki- Rosario Vampire

Nagito Komaeda- Danganronpa

Pearl- Pearl

River Song- Doctor Who

Sarah Lynn- Bojack Horseman

Spinel- Steven Universe

The Joker- DC

The Master- Doctor Who

Yuno Gasai- Future Diary

[allurilove]

“What happened to all the other yanderes that’s not getting a continuation fic?”

Congratulations to yandere boyfriend and reader for graduating, and starting adulthood! Now that they are done with college (well the reader is), they continue to live together. Yandere boyfriend works at a cafe while his partner has a more “adult” job.

Yandere professor hasn’t seen the reader after they graduated. The reader moved back to their hometown, and they lost touch. Yandere professor does check readers social media. It makes him feel better to see that they are doing okay. He can’t bring himself to message them, and he assumes that they have already moved on from their relationship.

Dumb Yandere had gone missing for a couple of days actually. You found him shivering underneath a park bench, and absolutely drenched from the rain. He got lost after you sent him on an errand to go buy cheese. You had a search party looking for him, you got the police involved, and yet here he was. You brought your husband home, ran him a warm bath, and he slept soundly in your arms.

Yandere chaebol hasn’t made it official with reader. They do bang, sleep in the same bed, and occasionally parent his kids together. He doesn’t want to go through the whole marriage thing again, so he won’t propose. Yandere chaebol did apologize to his ex-wife, and he’s sort of on good terms with her now.

Yandere survivor is still following the reader around. He pleads with them to let him fuck them again with his dick that’s on a stick. He tries to woo you, but the reader barely budges. He lost his foot after a human attack, and you made him a peg leg. He’s still alive for now.

Yandere knight almost died multiple times. He had shielded you from an attack. Someone wanted you dead and gone, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. He eats your food to make sure it’s not poisoned (and it was), he double checks every horse to make sure that there wasn’t a bomb strapped to it, and he forced himself to stay awake for months. He would stare at you while you slept, quietly from the corner of your room. Yandere knight was upset that reader was married off to another man, and nearly killed your fiancé. Yandere knight is now in the dungeons.

Yandere prince had killed all of his siblings and parents, except for one. One of them had slipped away from him, and he now sleeps with a dagger underneath his pillow. Yandere prince became a King, and the reader is his queen. Yandere prince is now a father to twins.

Yandere classmate had gone to his dream school. Which meant that someone else had to keep a careful eye on the reader. His trusty butler that had been with him since he was a baby was the one to take care of the reader. The reader is locked away in his house, and hasn’t seen their friends and family in a while. Yandere classmate got back home after graduating, and he proposed to reader.

Yandere neighbor still continues to live right next to reader. He did go on a couple of dates with them, and he became great friends with reader. Yandere neighbor does occasionally still peep into the readers house, and he mentally keeps tabs on all the people that comes and goes.

Yandere farmer had proposed to reader, got married to them, and now their farm has a huge litter of kids. He loves his kids, and he teaches them how to properly take care of the animals.

Yandere mothman has become a permanent resident in the readers home. He has his own room that has a lot of natural light, and it was quite cozy. Even if he can’t mate with reader, his fuzzy dick has made it inside their mouth a couple of times.

Yandere prodigy continues to have wet dreams about his enemy. He doesn’t know how to stop them, and he has even thought about working for a different music group. He knows he should get away from the reader, and he continues to give the reader the cold shoulder. He stays as a nasty little freak behind the readers back, and relishes at any sight of their exposed skin.

Yandere best friend pursued his dreams and he became a chef. He opened his own restaurant after college with the help of his parents. The reader was his first customer, and he has a selfie of them eating his food posted up onto his wall. Yandere best friend and the reader are going steady, and sometimes go on dates.

Yandere camp counselor is still in the friend zone.

Yandere manager is still the readers manager (what a surprise). He is a bit more lenient after the reader proved that they could be responsible, and he lets them drink once in a while. Yandere manager hasn’t made a move yet, and probably never will.

[rialikesbts]

Aggressive

Prince ! Jungkook × reader

Masterlist

Your heart was beating at an incredibly fast rate. You were so excited to finally come home after such a long time. 

You were a maid in the castle, and abiding by the rules ,you were only allowed to visit your family once an year.

You were the primary breadwinner of the family with your father was too old to find work and your mother who had always been a housewife. And you were definitely not going to let your younger siblings go to work instead of school.

Since you sent all the money you earned to your parents, you couldn't afford a carriage and had to go travel by foot. 

You always sent all of your earnings to your parents.The castle provided food and clothing and to you ,that was enough to live by .Your family needed it more than you did anyways.

Which is why you couldn't afford any carriage ride for the journey and hence ,had to travel by foot.

It was a long and tiresome journey , but seeing your parent's faces at the doorstep made it all worth it.

Everyone in the house treated you like royalty. Your sister gave you a  massage and your younger brother was sitting in your lap feeding you grapes. Meanwhile your mom was in the kitchen preparing a feast while your dad had gone outside to buy your favourite cake. 

You wished you could stop time and spend a few more days here but sadly, you were only allowed to leave the palace for two days and one night, meaning you had to leave as soon as the morning came. 

Everyone was sitting in the living room, listening to you talk about your daily life in the palace.

Your stories were all about Prince Jungkook, the youngest prince of the royal family. 

The prince was a spoiled brat when you first came to work at the palace. It was as if a five year old was inside the body of a twenty two year old.However with time, he became more polite and mature. 

He befriended you as you were the only one closest to his age in the palace and grew fond of you very quickly.

He made you his personal maid, which you were very grateful for because that position meant an increase in your income. 

You were in the midst of telling your family about one of Jungkook's pranks on his elder brothers, when loud knocks were heard on the door. The person outside seemed to be very impatient. 

Your father opened the door and you recognized one of the palace guards bursting into your house and frantically looking over the room before spotting you. 

"Maiden Y/N! Please come quickly! The king has requested for your presence. Prince Jungkook is incredibly angry and won't calm down until you are there!" 

You quickly got onto one of the palace horses after saying quick goodbyes and apologies to your family and got to the palace quicker than when you came home. 

You rushed into the throne room where the king, the queen and all of the palace staff were watching Prince Jungkook in horror. 

The young prince had damaged the walls, the chairs,tables,decoration pieces, ornaments; you name it. The exquisite room was turned upside down. Currently the young prince was smashing all the vases present with his sword. You were surprised at that sight. You had never seen the young prince like this before.

The king spotted you and sighed in relief as he shouted to calm his son down. "Jungkook! Maiden Y/N is here" 

He stopped destroying the vases , but the look of anger and frustration was still visible in his eyes. He huffed before striding over to you, holding you by the arms with a strong grip,throwing his sword to the side. 

"Where the hell were you?! Why did you leave me? Do you know how worried I was? Do you know what they fed me! These maids and guards can't do anything right! You are supposed to do my things, not others!" He yelled loudly.

You were so frightened that tears started coming out of your eyes. 

" Your Majesty, I went back home. I'm allowed to go home once a year so I-"

You couldn't even finish because you were so afraid and scared at his sudden outburst. 

" Alright, because this is the first time, I'll let you go. But you are not allowed to leave the palace grounds now"

Tears welled up in your eyes. Why can you not meet your family even once a year?

"Guards! Go to her house and kill the family members." 

"NO!" You shouted in agony. 

You got on your knees. "Please your majesty, spare them it was not their fault. If you kill my family, for whom will I work? Please, please kill me instead. It was my mistake. I'm really sorry. Please spare them." You cried and cried. 

Jungkook's eyes widened as he realised.

You would quit if your family is no longer here.

You would leave then.

Leave him.

He couldn't let you go. 

Ever.

" Yes, you are right.It is your fault, maiden. Henceforth you should receive the  punishment, not your family"

He grabbed your hands and pulled you into his room. 

You dropped at your knees before the man. "I beg your forgiveness, your Highness. And I'm very grateful to you for sparing my family. I accept any punishment your Highness gives me. " 

He pulled you up. "Your punishment is that you shall be my wife and birth our children." He says with a creepy smile on his face. 

He forcefully inserts a ring down your ring finger. 

"There. I will inform father of our engagement and we will be wed within the week." 

"Your Highness, this is outrageous! No one will accept me as your-" 

"They will. They have to. Or I will make them." He interrupted you. 

You were uneducated, but not stupid. And you knew what he meant behind those words. 

He would kill anyone who gets in his way. 

His serious face was replaced with a cute smile.It almost felt as if the old Prince Jungkook had returned. 

"Now let's retire to bed. I can't wait to make love to my fiance." He said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him, and you tried hard to not resist his touch because of the fear of him hurting your family  was instilled in you. 

The entire night was spent with you screaming and wailing in pain, begging for him to stop as he forced himself onto you.

And when the morning came, you had accepted your fate. 

You were trapped with this monster forever.