𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ'ꜱ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ. ❛𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘺- 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵, 𝘞𝘪𝘭?❜ ❛𝘏𝘮? 𝘖𝘩! 𝘏𝘪! 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺.❜ 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐫𝐭: 𝐎𝐨𝐩𝟒𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐒𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭.)

I refuse to have a book on my page about an abuser.

Ello! Im doing oneshots now cuz they easier Im taking limited requests because im a very busy woman doing business woman things so yah Cover art credit goes to @redvilvity on twitter :>

▍ 𝐄𝐑𝐑Ø𝐑 ! ↳ ❪ 𝖺 𝖽𝗌𝗆𝗉 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 . . . ❫ ❛ OH DARLING LOOK HOW DIRTY YOU'VE MADE ME BECOME ❜ 🍷 ָ࣪ ۰ 🍒 › imagine being in a society in which sanity no longer exists in this world. ────── ◦'𖥸'◦ ────── 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗿𝘀 . . . the reader will be using she!her pronouns. if you are not comfy with it, please adjust and change it to your preferred pronouns !! &&. 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 humanoid au, slight yandere behavior, violence, gore, and mature content. ❛ ALTHOUGH, I KNOW WE'RE APART. YOU'RE PART OF MY HEART AND TONIGHT, YOU BELONG TO ME ❜ dsmp 𝙭 reader © hanamocha ⸝⸝ 2020 &&. art creds: @shinohahara_shirushi desc and book cover by @conyoizana.

This takes place just after the election also most of this won't be cannon. Wilbur and Tommy were in despair they where exiled, they had lost their country. HE had lost his country. You knew you had to help them, you couldn't bare seeing them like this or maybe it was because you couldn't stand seeing Wilbur like this. He was starting to go insane everyone who was around him could see this yet no-one did anything about it. Will you be able to help him or will he continue down this dark path?

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬. ... 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴀ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ɴᴇᴡ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ. Dream looked at the dead body, who soon faded away. He blinked, before sighing and going back to L'manberg. Not before grabbing her sword, and most of her belongings she's left behind though. Somewhere rather far away, laid an unconsciousness figure leaning on a tree. She possessed beautiful y/h/c y/h/l hair, which seemed to dance in the light breeze. She wore a clean gray sweatshirt with the initials W.D in bold white letters were in-scripted. The jeans she had on were slightly ripped, and she wore simple sneakers. Her skin was translucent, revealing the oak tree through her arms. She seemed perfectly at peace, and didn't seem to be injured much. There were a few minor scars on her legs that looked to be bleeding, but it wasn't trickling. It was practically frozen. A bit odd if you ask me. But judging by the looks of it, she seemed to be a 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 '𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸'. Cover art: @PenWingStar on Deviantart 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐒𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭.)