moya

[moyazaika]

𓆩♡𓆪 جینی \ genie ;

₊ ❀ ˚ 22, they/them, enfp, aries ₊ ༉‧

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[moyazaika]

your pfo has made me slightly uncomfortable, it is 5 am

Please keep up the good work

thank youuuu xox

[trigona-necrophaga]

my devoted but dangerously unstable knight will be hearing about this

[moyazaika]

beating up my bitch friend who’s in love with me because fuck it she’s gonna say i did it anyway i may as well get SOMETHING out of it

yayyy nonnie you get me! i love a yan who is just so dysfunctional with their darling that the relationship ultimately gives you no choice but to be just as fucked up as them or even worse. truly there is no greater dynamic i enjoy more than toxic4toxic 💖💖💖

[moyazaika]

I feel like maybe darling would interpret mean girl yans as just. her secretly harboring hatred and jealousy for their friendship, when in reality, it's just because shes obsessed with them.

How would mean girl yan treat reader in an (unwilling) relationship?

i think that's pretty difficult to do considering the fact that she's so shameless about the whole thing, it's difficult for even the most dense darling to misinterpret her feelings. it's not like she's trying to be subtle, and since she's known you so long, she knows how to get the point across. sure, you might not like the way she goes about it but she doesn't need your approval either way.

the same goes for your willingness; she doesn't care if you want to be in the relationship or not, you don't get to decide that. if you're a fucking idiot you can try leaving her, but she warns you that won't end well. i don't think she'd want to physically hurt you, because she really hates playing nurse (not a maternal bone in her body) - but she's not opposed to ruining anything else you had going for you.

and when your workplace and your friends and your family come to learn that your poor ex girlfriend is pressing charges against you for violent, reprehensible things, when they see the horrifying bruises on her pretty skin and the wounds you left behind - the fallout from it all makes you wish you really had been the one to do those things to her.

[precious-corpse]

like obviously it's a huge dick move but i can't deny that the sort of glint some people get in their eye when they find out you flinch away from fast movement + the way they'll make you do it a couple times like a gleeful child testing a new toy is kinda hot

[moyazaika]

PRESQUE VU

♡ ⋮ yandere ‘boyfriend’ x gn reader

cw ☆ it’s going to hurt.

“i don’t blame you, babe.” his fingers are intrusive, but gentle, as he pries your mouth open. his thumb is calloused, and you can feel the rough skin pressing against the soft flesh of your bottom lip and pulling it down with a pinch. “happens to the best of us,” he says, not unkindly. “and besides, i’m here to take care of you, yeah?”

you give him a sorry excuse of a nod, and he smiles at you over his glasses. “i love that, i ever tell you? when you show me you understand me?” he sighs. “i fucking love it.”

you can see your reflection in the glasses. faint, but unbearably noticeable for every last line of desperation. look at you, nodding again; going yes—yes, i understand you.

do you, really?

“see? you’re so good to me.” beyond the image of yourself, you glimpse the twinkle of his approval (and consequently; your assured safety—at least for now) in his eyes. he only wears his glasses in the early mornings and evenings, when he hasn’t got his contacts in yet. and he wouldn’t right now, considering the two of you’d just woken up. “sometimes, i almost think i don’t deserve you.”

you think of something to say, almost immediately. think of the words so fast that you end up losing them—slipping somewhere just out of your reach.

ah, come on—!

you know they’re important. these words, they mean a lot. it’s imperative you recall them; if only so they can leave your lips.

“but then i think,” dawn’s sun is gentle, blurry glow soft through the bathroom window; hitting him so nicely, and bathing the best and worst of him in gold. “who better for me than you?” features you’ve memorised down to the last detail, your inclination to observe and remember vacillating between an obedience rooted in fear and a strange, beautiful sense of duty owed to what could only be an even stranger sort of love. “and who better for you than me?”

please come back. what were you going to say? it’s—it’s right there, you know it is and you just—what was it, again?

you need to remember. these are very important words that must be said—!

“and no matter how many times i ask myself these two questions,” his other hand, just as rough and warm, squeezes the rolled up toothpaste onto the wet, bent bristles of his toothbrush. it’s a fresh white with specks of bright blue. “the answer is always the exact same. and isn’t that absolutely beautiful?”

he carefully cradles your face with one hand, the other holding the toothbrush by its hilt—or is it called a handle? a body? these autonomous concepts are far beyond your understanding. you perceive even the most mundane object in the only way you know how which is only the one way you’ve been taught to live by.

(hurt.)

but that’s not what you were looking for. no, you’re losing yourself—going off track. you frown, dig deeper. it’s frustrating and you hate the feeling.

you were going to say something—you had to be careful of what you said; speak up only if you’d thought what you were going to say through very carefully—

and here was something you’d thought to waste your few precious words on; only to forget—!

“don’t get lost in your head, lovely.” you blink. look up to find him watching you expectantly.

you realise with a sinking feeling that you’ve been gone for longer than you’d managed to catch. you don’t let that happen too often, nowadays. and for good reason. you immediately make a mental note beneath his curious gaze not to let it happen again.

“there you are. hi, darling. i really hate when you leave me like that.”

you’ve learnt to be attentive and observant, attuned to his every desire—and truthfully, as he often asks you when his mouth is sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck; are they really that different to yours?

so when you notice that his eyes are focused on your lips, instinctively, you part them with a shuddering breath; stand right on your tippy toes and slide your palms up, up, up his body and right over his shoulders—

“oh,” you’re knocked off kilter when his chest, as warm and strong and unyielding as ever beneath your pliant hands, reverberates with unexpected low laughter. you take a step back, but you can see in the reflection of his glasses that he sees it as a stumble; the falter of shame at him having caught your hand in a metaphorical cookie jar. “oh, poor baby. i wasn’t—”

he straightens. catches his breath to wipe a tear from his eye. “oh, darling. you thought i was going to kiss you?”

you stammer, pathetically, hopelessly; only end up looking like even more of a fool when the uncertain edges of an excuse in the back of your mind fail to solidify into something sharper; something that would cut and sink and stay under his skin.

it’s not your fault. really—! you’re just trying to remember those words you’d lost a second ago—where did they go?

he watches with great, quiet amusement as the words continue to evade you, despite your best efforts. eventually, your jaw falls slack and the cat really has got your tongue and even though you know the cat is right around the corner you can’t—can’t quite reach it to get the words back—when they were only just here one second—

“hey. that’s alright.” he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, and you forgo any last, sad attempt at trying to talk. “i know, baby. i got you. i get it. you understand me, and i understand you. that’s how this works. you don’t have to explain yourself.”

the words in your head are getting closer. clearer. you can feel it; are acutely aware of the fact that you’re on the brink of a breakthrough. monumental for yourself, to know what to say for today, but worth very little to him.

“i’m sorry for laughing. you’re just so cute. i promise i’ll give you a kiss after, okay? i’ll give you all of the kisses you want, darling.” you nod again, more desperate this time. you want him to think back on this morning and remember his glowing success at solidifying your obedience rather than your own spectacular failure at defying him. his grip loosens, hands slide down to your chin—a finger tapping against your jaw with expectation. “but only if you can go back to showing me you’re listening. makes sense?”

it’s very important that you show him you’re listening. very important not to lose yourself in your own head.

“alright, darling. be patient, okay? this is going to sting for a bit. might hurt you a little. so hold onto me if you need, but do not,” he smiles softly, “even think about pulling away. alright?”

the last time you’d lost yourself in your head had also been the first.

you remember, still, looking up at him through your lashes the same way you are now. though, then, you’d been crying. you could afford to do that, before—wave the markers of resistance around like a white flag. it should have been easy; you’d surrender physically—but you wouldn’t really be there mentally. thought that would make the violating ordeal easier to bear.

he’d caught on, of course. the minute your eyes glazed over and your jaw went slack. he hadn’t even pushed his fingers (still slick from your arousal) past your lips—he rolled his eyes. muttered something to himself and got up, instead. you chose not to come back just yet; fearing he’d just return any second now and try again.

from somewhere far away, you’d heard the whistle of the kettle; both at once a shrill scream and yet as silent as a whisper, over the sound of his restless pacing in the kitchen, and then the strangely quiet steps down the hall again.

“you want to zone out when i’m speaking to you, baby?” he’d cooed. pulled out your tongue, pinched between his thumb and forefinger—warm skin unbearably uncomfortable against the wet, squirming muscle that he yanked further out of your mouth. you were there, now, physically and mentally—because you’d seen the kettle in his hands.

“darling, if you think i’m going to just let you check out on me,” he flippantly spoke over your screaming and thrashing, his knee on your chest was painfully digging into your ribs. your body was shaking violently. his hands were as steady as his gaze. eyes trained on your mouth, just like now. “then you don’t know me at all, and that’s very disappointing. so i thought,” he said casually, lips curling into something sweet. “maybe i should show you exactly what sort of man i am. just so you know not to ignore me, again. just so you remember to pay attention.”

and when you screamed again, he’d silently tipped the spout of the kettle over, fingers loosely wrapped around the hilt—and down, down, down had the boiling water gone; spilling straight into your mouth and right onto your poor little tongue.

so today, on this slow morning where the sun hasn’t even risen yet and the stars are still out in the sky, you listen very closely to what he says.

he lines the toothbrush up against your teeth. “open your mouth for me, baby. a little wider.”

you obey.

“that’s perfect, love. come just a little closer, will you? tilt your head up.” he kisses your nose. “good job, baby. now stay still.”

he’s looking down at you through his glasses with a quiet intensity, focused entirely on the task at hand. he still looks golden in the light of the rising sun.

the warm hand holding your jaw in place is soft and his movements are careful as he moves the bristles of the brush over your every tooth with a gentle affection.

he is cleaning you, helping you heal when he takes the utmost care not to let the brush he wields touch your tongue for even the barest moment; the muscle is lying uselessly limp, slack and scarred in the cavern of your mouth—heavier now from the burden of an unspoken confession.

because the words that had been just out of reach have come back to you as quick as they’d first disappeared. in a second, you almost stumble beneath the weight of them; the burden of needing to blurt out what you’ve worked so very hard to get back; something you need to say because you looked for it and found it and you need to tell him. you need to speak. let it out—

say it—!

but you can’t.

so because you can’t quite speak again just yet, even though he does his best not to make it hurt for you any more, you look up and smile at him; sweet, eager, and bright.

his lips curl. you glimpse the approval in his gaze. let yourself feel safe, again, in his hold as he presses another kiss to your nose. “i got you, baby. don’t even need to use your words for me to understand you. i know you already. like i said, nobody better, yeah?”

you can’t tell whether he’s referring to you or himself, so you stay very still as he continues brushing your front teeth, positioning your head at different angles as he makes sure to get every tooth. spends extra time on your canines, you notice.

“we’re going to have such a beautiful day, darling. i think i’m going to love you very kindly today. want to show you that i can be nice, baby. how’s that sound, hm?”

and even though you can see in the reflection of his glasses that despite his careful efforts, your gums are bleeding from the bent bristles of the toothbrush, the blood having mixed with the toothpaste, now staining your teeth a soft, foamy pink; because you won’t quite be able to say it just now—

it’s all you can do to split your lips into a grin and hope he understands.

[moyazaika]

terrible pfp im a big fan

thank you, has anyone told you that you have great taste xx

[moyazaika]

[yandere-devs]

Yandere psychiatrist who intentionally misdiagnoses you so they can prescribe medications you don’t need; feeding you SSRIs and mood stabilizers that they know will have negative side effects for you, until you wind up with sui***al thoughts or are sent into a medication-induced psychotic episode.

It’s easy for them to get you into an inpatient facility after that, somewhere they can transfer to that doesn’t allow visitors and leaves you cut off from the outside world. They’ve successfully manufactured an unstable image of you, one that only intensifies the more you accuse them of wrongdoings.

They’re kind too, even if a bit condescending, in that practiced medical professional kind of way that oozes warmth and care for their patients; which only serves to make your claims look even more unsubstantiated. They’re trusted and looked up to by their colleagues, you never really stood a chance the moment those heavy facility doors shut behind you months ago.

[moyazaika]

[moyazaika]

valentine is so mean to meeeeeee

and yet i come back smh

and he makes you say please and thank you him for it after, nonnie <\3

[moyazaika]

me when my yandere best friend goes crazy after meeting my partner so she tries to kill him but my partner is valentine…

[moyazaika]

bro for once i need to see kean drop the ball 💔 like please, on the off chance we actually one up this mf, how would that go? also I want you to know that I've been so obsessed with kean that my keyboard auto fills his name if I type a 'k' 😭

the keyboard thing nonnie wait because i'm honoured?? like that actually touches my heart?? tbh you've made my whole day LMAO

at the end of the day, he's just a man.

which is to say, kean can absolutely drop the ball!! he kinda already did, when cap rejected his confession at grad - but if you mean on a more serious level, you'll have to wait to see what timeskip kean is up to ;)

[moyazaika]

About mean girl yan

I personally would book a one way ticket to the underworld. Maybe it’s cause I’m mentally ill but I would not hesitate to end it all if everyone I loved took her side, if after all my struggling to get through college and get a job it was taken from me, if the person I loved left me. I’d just break and end it. No note, no warning message to anyone, just a clean break.

omg if i had a dollar for every time i wrote for a character and the overwhelming response was just 'i'd rather kill myself' i'd have. well. a lot of dollars HAHA

but also, she would notttt let you go through with it - you're what her whole life revolves around, so if she has ANY doubt you might react that way (because she knows you veryyy well) trust she's going to make sure everyone around you knows of your declining state of mind so that the right safeguards are in place to prevent you from harm, even at your own hands.

and then when you can't see a reason to live, she's sooo happy to give you one <3 you have a beautiful life together waiting, silly! stop thinking such negative thoughts. just let her give you a nice foamy warm bath and dress you up, stay with her, and you'll be better in no time baby <33

[moyazaika]

Teddy bear.

Some creatures are created out of love. For a lover, friend, family, whoever dear to them.

And I guess I was too, but I wasn’t created out of pure love.

The man that created me created me as a way to spy on his obsession.

Behind my beady eyes are cameras, and next to the voice box in my stomach is a GPS tracker.

I don’t know why I’m conscious. None of the other inanimate objects around the girl’s room are. None of her other stuffed animals, none of her figurines, just me. I guess love really can do magical things. I don’t even know where I heard that. Maybe from one of the movies the girl watched while holding me in bed.

I feel bad for her sometimes. She’s sweet, too sweet. She cries into my soft brown fur when she watches a sad movie, or sees animal rescue videos. She presses my hand to hear my audio recording, her lover saying I love you, when she misses him.

I don’t know why he created me. She already loves him. They’re already dating. She’s already writing her first name with his last name even though she’s a full grown adult. I don’t know what I’m meant for.

The cameras behind my eyes are pointless, he can already see her every day. The gps in my stomach is pointless, if she had it her way she’d always be with him.

But I can’t change that.

I can’t change that my home in her’s. That at night I sleep with her, either in her bed or on the couch, and during the day I either lie on her messy bed, or sit on her dresser.

I hate behind conscious when there is no reason to be.

I wish I was like her. Naive and oblivious. She doesn’t know the things her boyfriend has done, she doesn’t know the things he will do. 

She’s an airhead. I don’t know what happened in her childhood but it probably wasn’t good if she still acts like a child, and I’m not referring to her holding a stuffed bear while she sleeps. Her whole behavior could be seen childlike. I guess that’s why he likes her, cute and stupid. Easy to love and be loved by.

Well, at least most of the time. Recently they’ve been arguing about things, causing her to cry in my fur every night. It was annoying honestly speaking, I didn’t like when my fur was wet.

…

I wait for her to turn off the lights when she leaves the house before I start moving. The cameras behind my eyes can’t see in the dark so that’s the only time I can move. If he were to see that I can move on my own he might get rid of me, and while I might not understand my existence, I don’t want to die. 

I stand up on the dresser before flopping down onto the floor. I waddle around on the ground. Walking a little under the bed before sitting down there.

Under the bed is my favorite spot. It almost feels like a house my size. The bottom of the bed my ceiling.

I haven’t existed for long. Three months maybe. And I still remember every day; especially the first day I was “alive”.

He got me from one of those build your own stuffed animal places. He grabbed me just because I was a bear and got me stuffed before going home and installing cameras and a gps in me. I don’t know why I was conscious the whole time. The moment he grabbed me I started having thoughts.

I still remember the feeling of lying on his wooden desk unable to see anything as he carefully installs cameras behind my eyes, when he sewed back my beady eyes I could finally see again. And what I saw was him carefully putting a gps in me. It sounds gruesome but it wasn’t. I was just observing someone else.

I don’t really like him. I don’t know what she sees in him. His black hair looks greasy and his eyes are too blue for comfort. And he’s always breaths heavy, no matter what. You can hear him before he even enters the room with you.

…

I stop thinking for a second when I hear his breathing. Why is he in her house again? I hear him start turning lights on and I flop down onto my face. He can rewind the footage from the cameras so I need to make sure they can’t see anything.

I hear him breathing as he walks into the room and turns the lights on.

“…teddy bear….I know you’re alive” he whispered.

I don’t know what he expected from me. I couldn’t talk, and I wasn’t gonna give myself away by moving.

I feel a hand grab my stuffed leg before lifting me out from under the bed. I see his chest as he holds me upside down.

“I know you’re alive, I do, I really do.”

He…didn’t seem well. He never has but he seemed even more unwell now.

“You’re the reason why she doesn’t love me anymore right? She loves you more than me now right? You’re the problem!” He yelled before throwing me against the wall. A soft thud as I landed on the floor. It didn’t hurt of course.

I didn’t move.

He huffed and stepped on my stomach, I could feel something inside me crack. “She holds you every night, every goddamn night. She sends me photos of you , more photos than of ME. HER SOULMATE!” 

Yes, I remember those, her sitting me on the dresser, my head flopping to the side “smile, teddy!”, as if I had a choice that I always was.

He kept his foot on my stomach as he crouched down to grab my head. “But you’re just a fucking stuffed animal, doesn’t matter that you’re alive! No blood, no crime!” He cheered. The seams at my neck started to pop as he pulled on my head, my white stuffing oozing out at the openings as my upper body got elongated. 

Maybe this is one thing that I have over humans, I can’t experience pain when someone kills me. This would probably hurt.

A loud rip comes from my neck, I’m nearly decapitated besides a stubborn stitch in the back of my head. The fabric of my body is pulled by the fabric of my head as he pulls and yanks, but the stitch doesn’t give. He curses and gets off me, coming back with a pair of scissors. He steps again on my stomach, something else cracked in me. He pulls again on my head, the stitch holding on as the fabric stretches into a line. 

“Bye bye teddy!”

*snip*

-✨🥐anon (sorry for any typos! Happy to see you back! Haven't really been writing recently so I dug this out the archives.)

wait i actually rlly rlly love this concept and the subversion of the classic surveillance teddy trope?? i can for sure see this as a psychological thriller manhwa, you never fail to miss nonnie 🫶🏼

[moyazaika]

MEAN GIRL YAN MEAN GIRL YAN MEAN GIRL YAN MEAN GIRL YAN ‼️‼️‼️

yk what i see the vision, but i think we can make it more toxic than just her being a mean girl. i think of a reader who's willing to look the other way, to turn a blind eye rather than confront the fact that your best friend always seems to get just a little too close for your comfort with your partners and hookups and situationships. it's like she has to stake her claim over everything that you have and anything that you could possibly want. every job you land yourself, she has to show up to your workplace and embarrass you in front of all your coworkers. anytime you've achieved something, she has to make it about her.

and it's not that you don't see it - just that any attempt to call it out results in you being seen like the bad guy, and you're so. fucking. sick of it. she always has to cause a scene, to break down into tears and put on that little act of hers which has your mutual friends and even your family siding with her. you sit there, watching as some of your closest friends console her, their arms wrapped around her as she cries her little heart out, tripping over her words, about how "sorry" she is for how she made you feel - oh, she had no idea you felt that way. you're the only one, it seems, who sees her trying not to laugh at how pitiful you look, condemned by everyone else you love at her behest.

things change when you fall in love for the first time.

[moyazaika]

hi genie!! idk if you’ve answered something like this b4, and u can just ignore this if u have then. but how would valentine be with a VERY I guess clingy darling? (or just is affectionate?)

nonnie lovely its like hitting the jackpot for him, i think val would enjoy that very much but it wouldn't be so fun for you unfortunately bc he is definitely taking advantage of how clingy you are - it's not long before you're made to feel like the crazy one, like you're 'too much' before he gives in, and reciprocates your affection... and then it goes back to how it used to be, and you feel like he doesn't like it (he does. very much. he just thinks it's cute when you get upset about it <3)