“She’s crazy and she needs to go down.” - Uncle Iroh
Kendra and Donnie 🤪

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“She’s crazy and she needs to go down.” - Uncle Iroh
Kendra and Donnie 🤪
Shimmy is quite acquainted with the yandere side of things--
"It's not yandere, yanderes are crazy, I'm not crazy..."
"Unless you consider love a kind of insanity~"
Thank U 4 Letting Me Be Myself - Omar S
How about Lancer Artoria?
She look like this
Also in Camelot her ideals are ... questionable
The Island The Summit March, sometime
“Okay, ya.”
The island was disgusting, and the fine, delicate skin on Karolina’s nose wrinkled as she surveyed the wide expanse of sand behind black, bug-eyed sunglasses. A handbag dangled off her forearm, her fingernails painted a shocking shade of electric blue.
“So ya, there’s the sand, and the palm trees and, you know.” Her tongue clicked a little, as though the concept of a tour was beneath the princess. Her guide looked politely interested, any rue feelings masked behind training and fear. “The water and such.”
She was supposed to be a native, a local. She’d been captured here, after all. Six months on this island, ya. Supposedly.
Karolina turned, spotting a face.
“Oh, hi!”
Her heels, precarious both in their height and narrow circumference, clicked on the dock. A hand extended as though to shake. “It’s so good to see you, so glad you could make it,” a mint snapped between her teeth, and she quickly snatched her hand back before she and the person -- the peasant? nobody knew -- could touch. She came to a prim stop before them. “Karolina. Of Russia. You remember me, don’t you? I really like what you’ve done with your hair.”
My mom now refers to BTS and Monsta X as ‘my boys’ and I
@liammackenna
she watches the scene with the hardened gaze of a vulture carefully circling a corpse, ready to pounce. her skin is stained a dark plum, damson colored marks slowly making themselves known across her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose. lips are cracked too, spilling blood, scarlet trickling down her chin, down her neck. she doesn’t make an effort to stop its downfall. instead, she’s observing. making careful notes of what she sees ----- who she thinks might be hiding in the shadows. though she has already had an eventful night, has already shed her fair share of blood in her senseless desperation for the list. but if there’s one thing she has learned, it’s that her victims always have more blood to weep. so she studies the crowd closely, knowing full well that something is about to happen ( she can feel it in the very air, it’s practically sparkling, every breath is electrified ). lifeless eyes eventually zero in on a figure that seems vaguely familiar, and she apparates next to him, appearing out of thin air, her fingers closing around his wrist. her lips move uncomfortably close to his ear ( running a very real risk of dripping blood on his clothes ), and there’s a barely audible hiss. “ so you couldn’t stay away, then, could you? “ she whispers, and her teeth slam together, hiding behind a cat like snarl. tonight, her eyes have gained a quality that is beyond deranged - something far more wicked hiding in their depths. she’s on a mission for her master, so there is nothing she won’t do, a cruel desperation fueling her, making her see red. “ where’s little sissy? “ she pauses, her grip hardening, her teeth baring. they are stained crimson with her blood. “ is her name on the list? along with yours?” at that, she spits, saliva mixing with dirt and blood on the ground. “ should i flip a coin of who i shall kill first? now, wouldn’t that be nice. a fun little game for us to play. “