I Want You To Try Something For Me.

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

We have yandere school,, but what about yan! Restaurant? 👀

You've only ever visited this particular restaurant once, but the food was just so good that you can't help but come back from time to time! And, oh.. The workers and manager there can't help but favor you a lot more than the rest ♡

I'm not sure if you meant it in the sense that the restaurant is a regular, normal business, and the staff became obsessed with you, or if the restaurant is quite literally advertised as a yandere service. I went for the latter, for the memes. Content: gender neutral reader, parody?, horde of (adult) yanderes

Yandere!Restaurant provides you with an extensive list of employees to choose from. From grey-haired and soft-spoken, to brash and youthful; the restaurant guarantees you will find your matching server within their impressive catalog.

Alright, where is the menu? Most customers are indeed taken aback when presented with a leather-bound book of blank pages. The gesture is quickly followed by a second, much thinner folder: a questionnaire, and an agreement to be stalked.

You see, Yandere!Restaurant has a particular modus operandi - you provide them with the basics: your full name and date of birth. Everything else will be uncovered by the yandere themselves. Once they have found you, the true serving process begins.

The first part is always the longest, hence their recommendation to book months in advance if you're a new customer. It's the research phase. Your chosen server will follow you around and gather all the needed information.

"No, thank you, it's too sweet for me", you tell a friend offering you some of their snack. From within the shadows, a cloaked figure scribbles down furiously.

The second and final phase is your usual dining experience. You are seated at the table and presented with your dishes. They have been carefully curated to match your taste in that very moment. Maybe you'd recently hoped you could eat your childhood favorite again. Maybe you'd seen a social media post about a trending dessert, and wished to try it out yourself. No matter the reason, know that it has been skillfully uncovered by your loyal server.

"This is..."

You gasp quietly and cover your mouth with a napkin. The taste is exquisite, filling you with a wave of nostalgia. How did they know? This is exactly what you wanted.

Why, of course. It was made with utmost love and attention. Won't you visit them again, (Y/N)?

[More Yandere Scenarios]

"Not that kind of tragedy and you know it. Trying to get close to me means trouble for the both of us, and potentially death for you

Writing Prompt #2897

"I'm a tragedy waiting to happen."

"Well, maybe I could be your knight coming to sweep you off your feet and save you."

Living Weapon Whumpee that doesn't know what to do when Caretaker rescues them.

They only know fighting, and violence, and even sometimes order people around when their handler allows them, what are they supposed to do if Caretaker doesn't need them?

Caretaker is a good person, and they have a lot of security like guards 24/7 and cameras monitoring their house, why would they need Whumpee?

They say they want to help, to make Whumpee get better; but how is Whumpee supposed to be better when they can be useful?

Caretaker doesn't need them. They are safe, and that's a good thing. Then why do they feel so impotent?

If only Caretaker needed them. Or if they lacked guards, then at least Whumpee could be of some use. But no.

They are useless, and when Caretaker sees that, they are going to get rid of Whumpee.

Love when someone new finds my blog and goes through like thirty of my posts, liking them all and then follows me. Like hell yeah, that wasn’t a spur of the moment decision, it was after seeing enough of my stuff to make an actual judgement about me.

There's this interesting phenomenon where when you're a child, or some other vulnerable minority dependent on a job for shelter, you are actually under duress almost constantly. You can't say "I don't want to work today," you cannot say "I don't want to do the dishes, actually," you cannot choose not to participate. In a lot of cases, the punishment is explicit. Your parents might yell at you. Your boss might fire you. But in other cases, it's implicit. The mood will sour. You lose leeway. People get mad at you. And that creates a really shitty environment where you're constantly being coerced to do things!

And here's the kicker; you're not allowed to acknowledge that. You cannot acknowledge that you are being coerced, you cannot acknowledge that your free will is not being respected, because that's punished too. Your boss insists that you act excited. Your parents punish you for acting surly. You are forced to fake enthusiastic consent, constantly. It's a fucking nightmare. Your hand is being forced, you do not have the option to say "no," and if you ever, for a second, try to acknowledge that, everyone acts like you're the aggressor.

Imagine this..

You are the healer and support of your traveling party. Unfortunately.. you also seem to be the side character in their story.

Constant danger. Constant use of your mana to shield others and heal them. Your only purpose is to make sure the main characters don't drop dead.

The only one who seems to have your back is the orc barbarian. Also, another character who seems to be on the sidelines as the 'main characters' forge their story. He constantly makes sure to protect you and that your voice is heard as well.

But after, yet another, dangerous battle, the group gets separated. You were shielded from falling debri by the orc barbarian. The dust settles as you both are hurting, tired, and quite done with following the main protagonists this far.

"We should find shelter near water.. then camp for the night." The orc suggested as you both carefully evacuated from the battle sight.

Without the main characters around for the narrative to focus on.. It felt as if your arc was just beginning.

TW: Whump

CW: crying, blood, bruising

It was all behind him now. He was out. He was free. All he had to do was get to his friends and heal up. The bruises on his wrists bled a little, as he stumbled down the dark street. He roughly wiped away tears from his face, hardly able to stand. His very soul shook, the tremors spreading to his bones, his muscles, his tendons.

He leaned against a wall, lightheaded from exhaustion. He wasn't used to walking everywhere. Flying was just so much more convenient. But any qi usage would mean capture as Thomas would no doubt be scanning for any large qi use. In this pitiful state, it wouldn't even be a fight. All Dené could hope right now is that he almost died and got a boost after he healed up.

He fell to his knees and screamed. A gutteral scream that was borne from his heart. A scream, not of pain or anger, but of release. As did his tears, so too did his scream lift a weight from his shoulders. He shuddered before standing up. At least, trying to. His legs gave out and all he could do was kneel as rain began to fall. A calming, cleansing, light rain that romantics danced and proposed in. The moon played across the water dreamily, almost mocking Dené's predicament.

But as quickly as it had come, it was no longer. At least, not on his back. He looked up. It was a woman holding a rather large umbrella, one who looked quite established, that she was not one to be trifled with.

"Hi. Um, you look like you need some help."

"I just need to get to my friends and I'll be alright."

"Well based on the sound of your throat and your posture, I'd say you need a bit more than that, young man." Dené growled and lashed his tail before shoving himself upright and looking at the woman who happened to be considerably taller than him. "Well?" she questioned. She looked like Lady Dimitrescu, but felt more like a mother bear, perfectly willing to kill, but only as a means to protect.

"Fine," Dené muttered and the lady called her chauffeur.

"And we'll need to do something about that... mane you have. At least make it look nice."

After the drive, she showed him to a bedroom and its bathroom. "I trust you know what to do from here." She got him a change of clothes, a cloth, and a towel.

When he looked in the (rather expansive) mirror, he saw someone he didn't recognize. Someone who was weak, helpless, ill-maintained. Not the former general of a military based on strength and order. He ran his fingers through the tangled mop that was his hair and came to an abrupt stop at a wad of knots. He started the shower, stripped, then stood under the hot water.

It was then that tears started to flow. Silent tears of helplessness, weakness, inferiority, and fear. Tears of despair, conflict, and emptiness. He cleaned himself then set to working out the knots, but he didn't quite have the patience, so got out of the shower, dried off, put on the clothes he was given, and went to find the woman.

But then, his nose caught the strong scent of food, the strongest of which was the smell of chicken noodle soup, with celery, carrots, onion, garlic, and basil. It was this smell which led him to a dining room where the woman sat, as if she was waiting for him. Now she wore a silk nightgown, making her look more like a rich MILF from some cheesy anime than an evil, centuries-old vampire dominatrix.

They ate, but before Lady Borea sent him to bed, she had him sit with her in front of the fireplace as she worked out the knots in his hair. Before she was done with the first one, he was asleep.

Your parents listed Hades as your godfather as a joke, That would not be an issue if it were not for the 3-headed puppy delivered to your doorstep by Persephone and Hades themselves, planning to protect you from the Olympian’s shenanigans due to Zeus’ bulldickery

This

But I actually went back to the other WIP.

I have so many WIPs, I don't really have to stop writing. I just never know which one to start with.

Does anybody else ever get writing fatigue from your current WIP, so you just... start another one to refresh yourself?

Cause I just did.

Again.

I need help.