Mozart Should Dress Like This All The Time What The Fuck.

Hello! Since I read your Yandere OC stories, my head began to ask these questions, how many children do the yanderes want to have for us? Would they get a little jealous when our babies are feeding from us?

hiii!!

you got me really thinking there,okay so

for orson he wouldn't want any children at first because of some past trauma but then i can see him seeing a happy family somewhere and thinking it would be cute to have one looks like you, so he wants to "try", and so you'll end up with one,and i assure you this child's life won't be happy.

taron's a bit complicated, he would want the same number of genders, so you either end up with two children girl and a boy, or ten five girls and five boys, in short, he won't stop until they are even.

aurelius on the other hand is the most sane between them all, he loves big families, so he might have quite a bit, not under four for sure.

as for if they're gonna get jealous over feeding them, i don't think any of them would, orson won't be in the house alot anyway, taron would be as smitten with his children as he is with you, and aurelius as a doctor knows feeding is important to them, however they might get a bit jealous if your attention was on your children for a bit too long.

someone post john cena suit gangnam style depression

Eamon commission!! Thank you @violetvase!!

description: yandere gangster x fem reader, yandere themes/scenarios, fem pronouns, yandere possessiveness/obsession, stalking, some angst I suppose, mentioned killing from the last story where he killed ur coworker, going on vacation and he finds you, etc.

You made your way through the sandy beach, trudging along with a beach chair and large bag slinked around your right shoulder. You wondered if there would be any space to take pictures without having anyone in-front, you’d probably have to find the best spot, and you just did.

You set up camp right in a breath taking spot where people were somewhat distanced but still nearby, peaceful and quiet. Perfect for the vacation you so desperately needed. Your guilty conscious told you that you should’ve notified Eamon about the vacation somehow. Maybe a text that said you were going somewhere for a little awhile and that would suffice, but you didn’t.

You planned this trip to be two weeks so even if he tried locating you, you’d have a good time at the start if he ended up coming. You put on sunglasses after working sunscreen all over your body, the silky sensation felt smooth on your skin. It was warm out and you were perfectly relaxed against your beach chair.

Until you felt a large hand on your shoulder, a presence you definitely didn’t predict suddenly appeared behind you, startling you. The sunglasses you wore were taken off by him so you could get a proper view of him.

“Hey, isn’t this beach relaxing?” Eamon said with a friendly voice, but you could tell from the popping vein on his forehead and seething teeth that he was 100% pissed at you.

You didn’t care that he was angry though, he deserved to be shocked that you were gone. The fight that broke down before you flew off to a sudden vacation caused it. He was just being too jealous! Too controlling! His watchful eyes every-time you were at work pissed you off.

You had even found out that your creepy coworker didn’t kill himself, it was Eamon! You were sort of relived that the guy was gone but it was morally wrong to end someone over such a trivial matter. That was probably the cherry on top with his possessiveness.

“Heyy…” You said with an awkward length to the simple word. You weren’t sure what to say because of his casual demeanor, it was off putting and a little unsettling, he was definitely masking the immense anger boiling inside him.

“Glad I brought another chair, almost like this trip would be perfect if we were both together” He passive aggressively said, yanking his beach chair out of its folding position and placing it next to yours.

“How’d you find me?” You bluntly said, taking away the chance of foreplay before the serious topic was discussed. “Guess you could say I’m lucky” He sighed, placing your sunglasses on his face rather than yours.

“You knew I wanted to be alone but you still followed?” You instinctively folded your arms, trying to enjoy the sun even with the unexpected Eamon resting near you. Silence pursued after your words, you could clearly hear the waves crashing against the soft sand while it spanned over a few moments.

“I know you don’t like when I watch over you, but I get worried people are going to harass you like that guy did.” He grumbled, not liking the taste of defeat against his tongue. The loss of victory in not being able to make you feel safe without being overwhelming. He didn’t know how to, all he’s learned is how to track and stalk down his prey before he sees that their last breath under his doing and his alone.

“I’d like you to place some trust under me that I can handle the situation, at least enough for you to not breath down my neck when I’m at work” You looked off to the distance, watching people play with a frisbee, you wished you could be relaxing and having fun just like they were.

“I’ll try? Okay..? I just also get anxious.. anxious that someone’s going to chase after you just because you’re affiliated with me. It’s not fair for you to be in danger just because of my career and who I am, that’s why I’m so insistent on being with you..” He paused at certain times where he had to think further, making sure not to stumble or say the wrong thing. “I just want to protect you.”

The whole environment was more stressing than relaxing, it was more noticeable to him because of the topic at hand and your body language. The same feeling was flowing through you, tensing at it just like he was.

“And, you get overly jealous, it’s not just because of my safety sometimes. For example, that pushy cashier who was just trying to advertise and you snapped at him” You turned your head to make eye-contact with Eamon, able to see him scanning your body after you spoke.

“That’s true..” He mumbled, trying to refrain from checking you out too much, he needs to focus on the conversation! But it was hard not to lose his mind with how the bikini wrapped around your body, it made you pop, especially with that color.

You looked away and inhaled for a moment, exhaling quickly afterwards, you weren’t sure why but it helped. It made you feel like you had some patience, for now anyways. He looked at you in his peripheral view, trying to see if you were upset like he thought you were, he was clearly hoping you weren’t.

“So.. when did you get that bikini? Looks nice” He leaned closer, trying to change the subject, at least for now anyways.

“Huh? Oh, um.. I think maybe a week ago? I got it at that one shop near my apartment, it’s cute right?” Your tense mood almost washing away by the casual question that distracted you.

“It looks pretty, we should go to beach’s more often if I get to see you like this” He teased, bringing out a more playful tone on the table, hoping it would lighten the mood and make you joke around as well.

“I don’t think I’d be able to handle all the drooling you’d do if you kept seeing me like this, I would prefer to see you sane” You giggled, finding his stupid little compliment humorous, you could see him leaning in with pouty lips.

“Awh, you won’t even notice me going all googly eyes over you, cmon” He kissed your cheek, secretly desperate for some affection so he decided to initiate it. You didn’t mind the soft lips that pressed against your cheek so you gave him a kiss back, a short one of course, you haven’t completely forgiven him!

Yet his big brown eyes were getting to you, especially when he gazed at your lips, he was itching to kiss you more, which is what he did, bringing you in by his hand on your lower back as he leaned towards you. You could feel his tongue slip into your mouth to deepen the kiss, something you reciprocated while giggling against his lips.

Seeing Eamon needily moving his tongue while making small groans at how much he missed your touch was a rare sight. But you had to stop, you couldn’t make out in the middle of the beach after-all! Some kids or people in general could be looking around which would cause an awkward few moments of eye contact.

He whined when you softly pushed his face away, pouty face starting up as his lower lip pushed out. “What’s wrong? You don’t wanna kiss?” His whiny tone being evident, a little off sounding with his naturally deep voice.

“Someone could see, I mean we’re not in exactly in a private place” You chuckled, scanning the area even though you already planned to stop.

“Who cares.. I missed you” He mumbled, his carelessness shown by how he inched towards you once more, using your hip as a handle to tease at your bikini that he desperately wanted to tear off.

“Still upset with you, don’t think you can get away with it” Your first sentence was spoken with a playful tone, even though there was a burning ache in your heart that just had to reveal how much you wanted to escape from this man’s life threatening grasp. Yet it never happens, not once, and not now either.

You were so conflicted though. One moment you’re in a frenzied attempt to find a way out and just a few moments later you’re accepting his affectionate advances as if he hadn’t killed for you. As if he couldn’t hurt you the same way he did to them. What was stopping him anyways?

You? The police? Who??? What if he got just a little too mad one day and you’re in a situation of life or death? You’d lose to him without a doubt.. just looking at his veiny hands had you imagining how he could choke you to death, swallowing you whole after doing so, just like an anaconda would.

Perhaps he’ll let you go one day, maybe getting tired of you or falling out of love. You weren’t exactly sure if you could even “fix” him to stop being so protective, almost as if he genetically modified to be like this..

Peppering kisses at your neck and teasing at your ticklish sides by gliding his hands up and down, providing a sensation you definitely didn’t want others to guess about. God, why was this so stres—

“You look so tense baby, what’s up?” He frowned, hurriedly tending to your shoulders with a nice massage, assuming that would help. And it did, only for a little bit before it just reminded you that it was him doing it.

“Mm, nothing, just thinking about stuff, I mean I have to get back to work soon after this vacation is done” His slick fingers with vanilla scented lotion rubbed at your collarbones, enticing you to relax even if your mind refused to allow you.

“Work hmm? I’ll help you catch up if you missed a lot, just tell me if anyone’s giving you trouble” He kissed your neck, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Hah, alright” You weakly grinned. You weren’t getting out anytime soon, you and him both knew that.

Own you

God!yandere x y/n

Summary: you try to run away from a God, but underestimate his power

Warnings: blood, mentions of needles and knives

Word count : 0.6k

[before we start, I want to say that this god has nothing to do with any religion, it's my own creation and only for fun! It is not meant to offend anyone♡]

How could you ever think that you could escape? Don't you know that he knows everything, sees everything? Your human legs carry you the quickest they can throughout the forest. You have no idea where you are or how you got here, but you knoe he has something to do with it. You remember being in his weird palace and opening a door and ... suddenly ending up here. Wherever this is.

You're barefoot. The ground hits you like lego under your feet. The strong wind tries pulling you back to him, but you refuse to succumb. You have to keep on going.

The wind starts going two ways, capturing you in the middle. Your hair flows around your face and vocers your vision. But you can't give up. You can't submit.

Snow starts falling from the cloudy sky. It's summer, it shouldn't snow. You know it's all his work. And it's a clever one this time. Knowing your clothes are way too thin to keep you warm in a blazing snowstorm keeps you from running. You close your arms around you and continue walking. The icy snowflakes clash against your bare skin like knives and needles. It's not a friendly snowstorm he's unleashed upon you. You want to scream in pain, but if you do, you'll get the sharp snowflakes in your mouth and risk cutting your throat.

After a few minutes of walking, you sink down on your knees in the snow. Your legs can't carry you anymore. Sobbing erupts from your throat. Your tears freeze on your cheeks. You look down and notice how your skin has gotten marks after the harsh snoflakes. What were they made of? Glass shards?

"Please stop!" you shout. "It hurts!"

You lay down with your face down and arms over your head to protect your eyes. You can't move anymore. It hurts too much and your body is too cold and weak. All you can do is cry in pain.

"Learned your lesson?"

You peak up and see the godly figure standing in the middle of the storm. He looks down at you, golden eyes scanning you. He kneels down and places his warm hand on your cheek, melting the frozen tears. You lift your cold, trembling hands and place them on his chest, needing warmth. He can regulate his body temperature to whatever you need. You can no longer feel your body.

He removes your hands. You try to protest, but nothing comes out of your mouth. It's like your voice has frozen too.

"You don't deserve my warmth until you've begged for forgivness and promise to never leave me again", the god says. "Do it."

"I-I'm sorry", you stutter and reach out for him again. "I'll n-never do it a-again!"

He tilts his hands and pick off a frozen tear from your cheek. he studis it and scoffs.

"How could you ever think that you could run away from me, human?" he asks. "I know everything there is to know. You didn't think I'd know where you were? You didn't think I'd find you? You belong to me, human and no one can keep you from me. I own this world and everything in it. I own you."

You start to lose your hearing. The god hugs you and lets you look for warmth in his arms. The snowstorm arounds you start to disappear and the summer warmth seeps back.

"Darling, look", the god whispers and nods up at the sky.

You look up and see a rainbow dancing across the blue sky. You can't help but gulp in adoration.

"I made it just for you", the man continues and kisses your temple. "I can give you everything. I can give you the stars. Literally. I will give you everything as long as you stay with me and never try this again. Now, let's go home, dearest. You need to rest."

Gil and Artoria trying (and failing) to behave when they are seated next to each other on Thanksgiving?

two minutes in and they started to brawl Σ(っ °Д °;)っ

the good wife

Pairing: Yandere!Husband x Reader Description: You don’t remember marrying Malcolm, but he remembers every version of you—and each time you try to leave, he brings you back. To be a good wife, he says, all you need to do is stay. Warning/s: Yandere | Gaslighting | Memory Manipulation | Captivity | Non-consensual Surveillance | Emotional Abuse | Obsessive Behavior | Psychological Horror Note/s: Heya! For those who have purchased Dark Roast so far, I'll be sending a better version once it's available. I can't provide the exact time, but in the future. ^^ Anyway, enjoy reading!

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The morning felt like any other—ordinary and mundane. You had kissed him goodbye like you always did, the scent of his cologne lingering long after the door clicked shut. His touch stayed too, warm and possessive as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing the hollow beneath your eye, pausing there just a moment too long.

“Be good, love,” Malcolm murmured, voice low and smooth, velvet laced with iron. There was a sweetness in it. But also, a quiet command, like the smile that never quite reached his eyes.

“I will. I always am, darling,” you replied, automatic and soft. The words tasted familiar, worn from use, yet strange on your tongue. You loved him. At least… you believed you did. You had to. There was no reason not to. Not really.

He chuckled—a quiet, amused sound that always pulled a smile from you. You were trained to respond to it, like muscle memory. “I know. But still. Behave, alright?”

You nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you tonight.”

And just like that, he was gone. The silence that followed felt deeper than usual. The house swallowed him whole, leaving only you behind.

You wandered through the quiet halls, trying to shake the feeling that had started to gnaw at the back of your mind. You were often like this lately—adrift, grasping at something you couldn’t quite name. He told you it was nothing. That it was normal, considering the accident. That your memory would return in time.

Except… it hadn’t.

You couldn’t remember the day you married him. Or the way you’d met. Or why you sometimes woke up gasping in the dark, drenched in sweat, your throat raw like you’d screamed your voice away. You’d asked him once. He had smiled and kissed your forehead, whispering, “Some memories are best left buried.”

That day, the weight in your chest didn’t go away.

It was there again now, heavy and suffocating, like invisible fingers tightening around your lungs.

You wandered to the bedroom—your bedroom. Or so he said. You barely remembered how to navigate the house without thinking. But your body moved on its own. Habit. Routine. Familiarity programmed into your bones, even when your mind resisted.

The drawer in the corner of the room called to you. You didn’t mean to open it. Not at first. But your hands were already reaching for it before your thoughts caught up. The compulsion was too strong. Something inside you needed to know.

And when the drawer opened, you froze.

Photographs. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. All carefully arranged. All tucked neatly between delicate tissue paper, as if they were precious artifacts. At first, the faces didn’t register. Different hairstyles. Different expressions. Different clothes.

But the same eyes.

Your eyes.

They were all you.

Laughter frozen mid-breath. Smiles that never reached your eyes. Dresses you didn’t remember owning. Bruises you couldn’t place.

Some photos were newer. Others older. You recognized none of them, and yet they were undeniably you. A collage of versions—happy, scared, serene, desperate. But all of them shared one common trait: they were being watched. In each frame, subtly blurred in the background, a shadow lingered.

Him.

Sometimes only his hands were visible, placed possessively around your waist or brushing your hair. Other times, he was fully in frame—close, always too close—smiling with a calm, calculated gaze. The kind of smile that made your skin crawl now that you saw it from the outside.

A ribbon. A perfume bottle. A dried rose, still tied with a bow. A necklace—broken at the clasp. A fingernail. You didn’t know whether it was yours, and that uncertainty was the worst part.

And then, the flash drive. Sleek. Unmarked. Black as night.

Your hands moved like they weren’t your own. You crossed the room, plugged it in, and opened the file. A single video.

The screen flickered. Static.

And when it played, you saw a familiar face.

You.

You were strapped to a chair. No… a bed. Bare shoulders trembling, your mouth gagged, eyes wild with terror. You writhed against the restraints, muffled cries choking in your throat. You didn’t remember this. You didn’t remember this. But it was you.

Then came the voice. Soft. Steady.

His.

“You always try to leave, my love. But you never make it far.”

The camera panned slowly, almost lovingly, to reveal him sitting beside the frame. Calm. Smiling. Watching you.

“I’m not angry,” he continued. “You don’t need to remember. You don’t need to understand. You just need to stay.”

He leaned closer to the lens, his eyes dark and glinting with something sharp beneath the surface.

“I’ve loved every version of you. Every time you run, I find you. And I bring you home.”

Your blood ran cold.

“I know you don’t remember. That’s alright. I’ll remind you. Over and over, if I have to.”

The screen flickered again. Another scene. Another you. This time crying. Another version screaming. Another begging. Another… smiling.

Each version more twisted than the last. You watched as he carefully recreated scenarios—like a director obsessed with a single actress. A thousand variations of the same obsession. A thousand attempts to preserve the perfect you.

You yanked the flash drive from the port, heart hammering. Your stomach churned, bile rising in your throat. You stumbled backward—

Knock knock.

A soft, deliberate sound.

You froze.

Another knock. Louder. Measured.

Your heart leapt into your throat. You turned to close the laptop, to hide everything—but you were too slow. The door creaked open.

And there he stood.

Framed in the hallway light, still in his work clothes, tie loosened, his smile too pleasant to be real.

“Love?” he called gently. “What are you doing?”

You swallowed hard, pulse racing. “I-I was just… cleaning.”

He took a step in. Then another. The door shut behind him with a quiet click.

“You never clean in here.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

He stopped behind you, his presence a wall of heat and silence. You felt his breath on your neck. Then his hand on your shoulder, light as a feather.

“You opened the drawer, didn’t you?”

You said nothing. But the tremble in your body gave you away.

He leaned in, lips grazing your ear.

“You always open the drawer eventually.”

Your blood turned to ice.

“How many times has it been, hmm?” he whispered. “Seven? Eight? I lose count. Each time you forget, and each time you find your way back. And I… I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

You whimpered, the sound dying in your throat. His hand stroked your hair with practiced gentleness.

“It’s okay,” he said sweetly. “We’ll start over. Again. Just like before. I’ll fix everything.”

You tried to move, but he tightened his grip. That same voice, that same gentle cadence, coiled around you like barbed wire.

“You’re mine, love. You’ve always been mine.”

And this time, you weren’t sure you’d ever escape.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

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is this funny

Thinking about how “Dorothea” means “God’s gift”

What her mother must have prayed for when she gave her daughter this name

How, despite this prayer, Dorothea didn’t have a Crest, which led to her and her mother being thrown out of her father’s house, leading to Dorothea’s mother dying a few years later and Dorothea growing up as an orphan on the streets

How one of Dorothea’s worst subject is Faith and subsequent white magic, displaying how little she believes in the Goddess she is supposed to be a gift from

How the other student who least believes in the Goddess and later even starts a war against the Church is Edelgard, bearer of the Crest of Saint Seiros and the Goddess’ Crest of Flames

How that same Edelgard is the one person in all of Fodlan who promises Dorothea to create a world where no child’s value will depend solely on their bearing a Crest or not. A world where Crest-less children will have just as many chances and opportunities for greatness as Crest-bearing children and won’t be belittled for their luck or lack thereof at birth

How, to Edelgard, who does not believe in the Goddess, falling in love with a woman whose name means “God’s gift” feels like a delightful irony, for Dorothea is everything the Goddess and the Church have cast aside, yet she shines brighter than the sun and her passion burns hotter than Edelgard’s flames

How, to Edelgard, Dorothea is the perfect example that the Church’s belief of Crest-bearing nobles being chosen and blessed by the Goddess, making them superior to others, is nothing but a web of lies, for if that were true, the Goddess would be a blind idiot for not blessing Dorothea so despite her being just as good or even superior to most nobles

How the bearer of the Goddess’ Crest and the Crest-less “God’s gift” join hands and work together to bring down the Church that oppressed them and countless others, then build a new system from the ground up to replace the old, broken one Saint Seiros created using the Goddess’ name

Oh the irony. Oh the symbolism. How perfect they are for each other.

DO NOT DO THIS!!!

If a website has a paywall, like New York Times, DO NOT use the ctrl+A shortcut then the ctrl+c shortcut as fast as you can because then you may accidentally copy the entire article before the paywall comes up. And definitely don't do ctrl+v into the next google doc or whatever you open because then you will accidentally paste the entire article into a google doc or something!!!! I repeat DO NOT do this because it is piracy which is absolutely totally wrong!!!