Life In Misery | fan!yandere x reader

4/23

12:00

Michael was darkly ethreal, around 5'9 and covert. and he passed by you in wallgreens once a few months ago (he only partially saw you from behind, but it was enough to send him spiraling into a week of obsession-induced mania. He recognized your hair color!)

You never saw him as a threat; he radiated the energy of an old soul. And, like all other fans, he sent letters. You admired his child-like brain and felt fond of them, considering his address was in the ballpark area of yours - maybe a city or two down.

He made it a habit to comment on all your videos, but this stupid person always managed to get to you before him. It pissed him off - and their comments had no weight to them. 'First' or, 'Early' - what a load of bologna! Though he sent letters with his name on them, he commented under a fake alias. To him, you were both playing a flirty game of "blind dating" per se. He could only dream.

His left hand - the one with polished nails, thanks to you - gripped the mouse as he hovered it over the button.

Refresh. Refresh. Refresh.

He did this atleast 4 times a day for 10 minutes straight. With math in mind, he dedicated about an hour of every day to waiting for a new video.

Still motivated, but knowing it was getting him nowhere, the figure sulked upward and grabbed a book from it's personal shelf.

There was a duplicate of the one currently held in his hands, untouched and in its own acrylic display case. Many more books looked used and well-read, bookmarked pages adding an unnatural volume to them. This one was different. It was among all favorites; and your best piece of work.

You wrote of the dilemma in a small town with a girl who used a walking staff. She was born with a limb-degenerative disorder and as she grew older, people bullied for having a deformed leg. She goes through extensive stages of psychosis and in the end, broke almost all of her bullies bones in the night, leaving him paralyzed.

He was almost finished with it but was waiting for a special moment for this one. There was about 20 pages left and he ached for a new volume or a 'part two'. That's when he'll finish it for sure.

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7:37

A towel was briefly being tussled against his wet hair, another wrapped around his waist. He checked your twitter a few times and only found some upload reminders and retweets from fans.

You retweeted a post by some random indie account that was obviously a snippet of your video. The lack of true proper credit also made his blood boil and he brought his other hand up to the keyboard. Letting it all out, he didn't stop until there were atleast a furiously typed thread of insults for the person to come back to. What kind of dim-witted grunt posts YOUR talent for all prying eyes to see and doesn't even apologize or give proper credit? Had it not been for the technologic barrier, he'd have done much more than insult. He needed to find out who this person was. Their anonymity was equal parts offputting and infuriating.

Now cross with everything in his mind, he's decided it was time to sleep.

" One..., two, three...... four. "

He idly refreshed the page a few more times before turning off the monitor and finishing what he had started earlier.