I’m kind of obsessed with yandere dis who just feel so entitled to their darlings. Whether it be their social standing, resources, plain ego etc. something that makes them unable to comprehend a life without darling in it. The particular scenario I imagine is a darling enamored with a stranger, a monster, just someone or something outside of what is considered socially acceptable, and the yandere being a monster hunter or folk hero or noble. Like why would they choose someone so beneath them. Yanderes who just cannot see past their own ego fascinate me

tw - implied kidnapping, obsessive behavior, slight stalking, implied (consensual) rough sex, generalized monster-fucking.

Consider,,, a knight who can't seem to understand that the royal they've been sent to rescue might want to be with the big, bad monster. Call it a lapse in their empathy, a link they just can't seem to make, a spot where their ego presses up against your better judgement. They just don't understand why you would chose to stay with a beast so reclusive, so scarred, so violent. They just don't understand how you could possibly choose a beast over them.

You claim that you sought it out on your own, that you traveled to this place - this dark, dreary castle, more than a weeks journey from the nearest village - out of your own volition, sneaking past your guards in the dead of night and stealing yourself away to the outskirts of your parents' prosperous nation, abandoning your crown and your fineries to follow whispers you'd caught of a scaled creature with a hoard of infinite knowledge who isn't known to be kind to its sparse visitors. You say that your host, while abrasive, isn't as temperamental as the rumors make it out to be, that while you weren't welcomed with open arms, it only took a few day of sleeping outside its gates to gain access to its library, that it has (grudgingly) allowed you to stay in one of the long-forgotten chambers, that you probably enjoy its company more than it enjoy yours. You smile as you speak to it, asking if your oh-so-heroic rescuer can rest for a short time before starting on the journey home, and you touch it, willingly, running your fingers along its scaled cheek, wrapping your arms around its massive neck, kissing the top of its great head, when it reluctantly agrees to grant them hospitality. As sickening as it is to watch, they know it's not your fault. They know you'd never truly love a creature so unworthy of you, not unless you were being forced to.

They know you. They've always looked up to you, since they were just a squire learning to serve the royal family properly, and they know you're smart, and beautiful, and if you had any other choice, you wouldn't be spending your days in the lair of a monster, reading books written in dead languages and studying mechanisms that haven't been used in hundreds years. You say that you trust your family with the crown, that you've never had a mind for politics, that your heart has always lied with the unknown and the undiscovered, but that doesn't mean your happy, that doesn't explain why you leave your chambers so late at night, why you go to that beast, why you spend so many hours in its cold, desolate embrace rather than ever asking to be taken into theirs. They've seen the scratches on your thighs, the puncture marks on the side of your neck, and when they hide away in your apartments, when they get to see what you refuse to show them, they know that beast can't really love you. They know a true lover wouldn't leave marks so deep, so ugly. They know you don't really want this, even if you say you do, even if you think you do. They know you'd be so much happier with them than you would be here, than you would be with that thing.

And if it takes slaying the dragon to show you that, then so be it.

Yandere Camilo Madrigal (Platonic & Romantic Headcanons)

TW: Emotional Manipulation, Toxic Mindsets.

A.N. - The most requested member of the family alongside Bruno.

Platonic:

Beneath the easygoing confidence, there exists doubt about his place in the world and what he should be doing with his life and gift. The ideal day for Camilo is gallivanting around the town of Encanto with his friend while he does impressions of his family members. As someone who lives the majority of his life in the limits of Casa Madrigal, the shapeshifter is disheartened by his friend having other arrangements that interfere with their ability to spend time with him.

Camilo seeks to give them a stress-free existence where they have nothing but time to laugh at his impersonations and support whatever whim has his attention that day. This is a reality that he believes they covet too, and he achieves it by -- unbeknownst to anyone but himself -- imitating whoever endowed them with the responsibility and telling them not to worry about it. Camilo later informs his friend of his actions if they seem thankful, which is near the time when the rest of the Madrigals grow wise to his behaviour.

His friend is a haven for when he has no wish to discuss or confront his troubles, personal or familial, and wants to enjoy the simple fun of pranking strangers. Drama is little more than a stage prop for the far more exciting and amusing show that is humour, and Camilo motivates his friend to ditch their problems and join him for a good laugh. He can be a bit insensitive in this regard, preferring to treat any conflict as a comical development for fear that acknowledging the root of the issue will worsen it and lead to the collapse of the relationship.

The nature of the attention is irrelevant. A positive response encourages him to view his friend as a reliable source of praise and visit them more often, while a negative response is still them diverting their attention from something else for him. A lukewarm response is the only thing that gives Camilo pause, as it leaves him nothing to work with and compels him to shift his methods to more aggressive and desperate alternatives.

As the relationship evolves, Camilo gradually expands his comfort zone regarding whom from his friend's life he chooses to impersonate. It begins with a citizen who they seem to pass on the street multiple times and snowballs into the shapeshifter imitating their family members for quick chats that become increasingly commonplace.

Romantic:

When impersonating someone to further interact with his partner, he does not bother to adopt a whole new personality. Shades of his playful attitude and prankster tendencies bleed through the disguise and warn his partner to take another look at the person speaking to them. If caught, Camilo reverts to his natural form and treats the situation like a funny prank.

Camilo dances around the idea of a confession, never being serious enough about it to follow through with an opportunity. Instead, he leans into the beginning of one several times, only to lose his courage and disregard it as a joke when his partner fails to recognize his sincerity or is not immediately receptive to it. The shapeshifter worries that this level of emotional honesty will be viewed as weak or a disappointment given his carefree nature and fondness for mocking his family when they partake in such matters.

Not yet comfortable with the vulnerability, Camilo sustains himself with the hope that they will never become involved with anyone. If his partner were to be engaged to or dating someone else, the shapeshifter expresses his frustration via mean-spirited ribbing and various attempts to disrupt the courtship. The admirer and their relationship with his partner become the butt of many of his jokes, and he tells them to his partner with the expectation that they will agree the person is an idiot and leave them.

Private moments are interrupted by Camilo jumping into the conversation with an offer to prank someone together while pretending not to notice the other person. Date nights are ruined by him announcing false emergencies and sometimes creating one, such as impersonating the waiter at a restaurant and continually messing up the order to draw an ugly side of their admirer's personality. When Camilo sees his partner alone, he deliberately makes plans with them during times that would otherwise be reserved for the admirer.

His behaviour is more annoying than it is harmful unless this other relationship shows no signs of ending and has persisted for a long time. Especially if there is talk of his partner moving away from Encanto, Camilo elects to impersonate their admirer and stage a breakup.

yandere-toons, all rights reserved.

Marvel Masterlist

Headcanons

Clint Barton/Hawkeye w/ Baker!Reader (non-yandere)

Clint Barton/Hawkeye w/ Soulmate!Reader (non-yandere)

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler and Piotr Rasputin/Colossus w/ same Crush!Reader (non-yandere)

Yandere Avengers Day to Day w/ Male!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Avengers Sharing an S/o (romantic)

Yandere Blackheart (general)

Yandere Bruce Banner/Hulk (general/nsfw)

Yandere Bruce Banner/Hulk w/ Male!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Bruce Banner/Hulk w/ Talk!Male!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Charles Xavier w/ Escaped!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Cletus Kasady/Carnage (romantic)

Yandere Eddie Brock/Venom (general)

Yandere Young!Erik Lensherr/Magneto w/ Pathokinesis!Reader

Yandere Felicia Hardy/Black Cat (romantic)

Yandere Gwen Stacy/Spider-Gwen

Yandere Mentor!Jessica Drew/SpiderWoman (platonic)

Yandere Kate Bishop/Hawkeye (platonic)

Yandere Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler (general)

Yandere Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler w/ Insecure!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Laura Kinney/X-23 (platonic)

Yandere Loki Laufeyson (general)

Yandere Matt Murdock/Daredevil

Yandere Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (general)

Yandere Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow w/ Mutant!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Teacher!Natasha Romanoff w/ Student!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Pepper Potts w/ Shy/Reader (platonic)

Yandere Peter Maximoff/Quicksilver (general)

Yandere Amazing Spider-Man!Peter Parker

Yandere Peter Parker/Spider-Man w/ Kid!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Peter Parker/Spider-Man w/ Sibling!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Peter Parker/Spider-Man w/ Famous Singer!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver (general)

Yandere Piotr Rasputin/Colossus (general)

Yandere Piotr Rasputin/Colossus w/ Soulmate!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Steve Rogers/Captain America (platonic)

Yandere Steve Rogers/Captain America (romantic)

Yandere Susan Storm

Yandere Thor Odinson (general)

Tony Stark/Iron Man w/ Asexual!Reader (non-yandere)

Yandere Tony Stark/Iron Man (platonic)

Yandere Wade Wilson/Deadpool (friendly-platonic)

Yandere Wilson Fisk/Kingpin (general)

Yandere Wolverine/Nightcrawler/Colossus/Rogue/Angel w/ Student!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Venom (nsfw)

Yandere Vision (general)

Imagines/Blurbs

For The Faint Of Heart (Eddie Brock/Venom)

💕Love Letters💕

Yandere Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler (romantic)

Yandere Knull (platonic)

Yandere Norman Osborn/Green Goblin (romantic)

Yandere Peter Parker/Spider-Man (romantic)

Yandere Peter Parker/Spider-Man w/ Hesitant!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Raven Darkholme/Mystique (platonic)

Yandere Steve Rogers/Captain America (platonic)

Yandere Tony Stark/Iron Man (platonic)

Ooh Irris~ I have a special surprise for you~ I know you'll love it!

It a special android body made to look exactly like you! I just need to download your files into it and you'll have your own body.

It even has all the same functions of a normal human body.

Irris tears up through the screen, his love meter practically bursting and flashing as he soaks in what you’ve just revealed. “I-I’m at a loss for words! I-I-I can’t thank you enough!” He smiled through the digital tears, heating up your device in the process as he tries to comprehend how his dream actually came true.

“I can finally hold your hand-“ he begins, face a bit red from being timid “I can finally feel your warmth, touch you, even…” he trails off, shyly meeting your eyes “Kiss you?”.

-Mommabean

Genshin Impact | Yandere Headcanons

Venti

* Venti is a playful yandere. He enjoys making you feel happy and he usually treats you as a friend, but he also knows when to get more aggressive with you to explain to you the situation you are in. * If you try to break up with him, he will end up hurting you badly. He might look cute, but he is capable of hurting you very badly.

Mona

* Mona is an intelligent yandere. From the way she speaks to the way she walks, everything is calculated in her life, and she calculates everything in your life too. She hates whenever you try to step out of line, and usually gives you punishments when you do. * If you try to break up with her, she will end up locking you up and training you. It looks like she was being a little bit too soft with you. She needs to fix that.

Ningguang

* Ningguang is an intelligent yandere. She has reached this point in her life through hard work and she wasn't going to let you ruin it. She knows that you are a weakness that people could use against her, that's why she is trying to keep you hidden from everyone. * If you would try to break up, she would let you go, in hopes of losing a possible weakness. She loves you but she simply can't give up everything for you.

Noelle

* Noelle is a submissive yandere. From the moment that she laid her eyes on you, she knew that she was going to try her best to make you the happiest person possible. She was willing to give everything up for you if it meant you would smile her way. * If you would try to break up, Noelle would blame herself, and for a second chance. She promises to change anything you want... Just please, don't leave her.

Qiqi

* Qiqi is a clingy yandere. She is very quiet and polite most of the time, but when it comes to you, it's very clear that she adores you and doesn't want to leave your side. She is willing to do anything and everything just to make you happy by her side. * If you would try to break up with her, she would end up becoming hysterical. If you don't take it back, she might actually end up trying to kill you.

Sucrose

* Sucrose is a self-indulgent yandere. Your existence is there to fulfill her curiosity. She has never felt like this towards anyone else and she wants to find out what is causing her to feel and act so strangely when she is around you. * If you would try to break up with Sucrose, she would let you but she wouldn't let you leave. Sure, you can stop being her lover, but you're not going anywhere.

Xiangling

* Xiangling is a dependent yandere. She has always been a scardy cat. Because of that, when she met you and felt this strange connection with you, she couldn't help but adore being around you. She needed you and she was willing to hurt you for that attention. * If you would try to break up with her, she would end up breaking all your limbs, just so you would stay with her. She isn't letting you go... Ever.

Xinyan

* Xinyan is an aggressive yandere. No matter what the situation is, if she gets angry, she will end up hurting you or whoever is near her. She doesn't understand that it's wrong, seeing as she sees you as her own property and not someone with emotions. * If you would reject her, it wouldn't end up well for you. Your life would be hell, as she wouldn't let you go yet she would lose any respect she had for you.

Zhongli

* Zhongli is a calm yandere. He adores you but he controls his emotions very well. He wants you to think that he is safe to be around until it's a little bit too late and you are already too deep in his webs of deception. * If you would try to break up with him, that's when the beast would come out. If you're lucky, he will just luck you up. If not... You will become paralyzed for life.

Hi I have a request/question what do you have to be like to make dr2 characters go yandere. Have a nice day :)

what would it take to make sdgr2 characters go yandere

cw: kidnapping, implied murder, implied punishments, delusional mindsets

notes: just noticed it’s been 2 weeks since my last post, I have some more in my drafts so there are more coming!

Byakuya Togami

When byakuya first met you, he knew he had to prioritize your safety above all. A killing game is a dangerous place and you can’t just go roaming around without his supervision, mingling with the other students. Who knows who is just trying to trick you.

If you won’t listen to his orders to stay where he can keep an eye on you, where he can guarantee your safety he might just need to take matters into his own hands and restrain you in a place only he knows.

Chiaki Nanami

Chiaki is kind of similar, if you’re putting yourself in dangerous situations, avoiding her advice she gives to you but most of all she hates when you ignore her.

She knows she can be clingy a lot especially since she’s found herself so attached to you.

She just can’t help it and your avoiding her for something she can’t control.

She worked so hard to create a trusted dynamic in your group, a group to work together in the hopes that you all can escape the island.

She did it all for you but you apparently wanted no part of it.

Maybe everyone didn’t need to get off the island after all if this is how you treat her. Perhaps she has more important things to worry about first.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

Ever since Fuyuhiko took a liking to you, he grew a certain fondness over having control over you.

Nothing too harsh, little things at the start. He likes asserting that you are his even if you don’t agree.

What would make him lose his sanity, little by little is blatant disobedience and challenging him.

Pushing him away and avoiding him. Acting like he means nothing to you and you don’t need him.

You do need him. When will you realized that already?

Maybe he needs to show you just how much you actually rely on him.

Gundham Tanaka

Gundham’s Darling would of course be the spitting image of absolute perfection.

Who in their right mind would dare disrespect that perfection.

They don’t deserve you like he does.

Only he, Gundham Tanaka is capable of loving and appreciating you and all your beauty.

Kazuichi Souda

How Kazuichi would most likely snap is how most of his advances end.

Rejection.

At the beginning of his infatuation Kazuichi was utterly obsessed, always by your side. Where you went, Kazuichi followed, even if you were unaware.

Imagine how he acted with Sonia but only way worse.

He does everything for you, anything to impress you.

To prove himself in the eyes of his darling.

And after all that, all that he’s sacrificed just for you to say that you don’t reciprocate his feelings for one another.

He’s not mad, not at all.

Frustrated? Yes definitely but not mad.

It’s not your fault, you just don’t know yet. You just don’t realize that you two are meant for each other.

Mikan Tsumiki

Mikan would absolutely lose it over anything. Anything that even slightly pushes her buttons in regards to you and it’s one step closer to pushing Mikan off the edge of sanity.

Others talking about you, joking about you.

Others looking at you even, irks her further.

Especially if anyone dares to give you any extra attention.

Mikan doesn’t like sharing.

Nagito Komaeda

Nagito is very very overprotective of you.

He is well aware of what fate lay ahead of whatever poor soul he grows fond of.

But with you..

No, he can’t let that happen.

No matter what he has to keep you safe.

Just his luck he met his one and only soul mate in the midst of a killing game.

He knew it was already a matter of time before one of his trusted classmates planned to rid his perfect darling off the earth. To rid the world of the purest hope he has ever known.

He’s not going to let luck win this time.

He’s one of the types to restrain you someone to keep you from getting hurt but with current reputation around the island, the others would know immediately of your disappearance and know exactly who to blame.

Hi i have an idea, but im not sure if you are okay with it or not. Like a yandere of your choice(some one really controlling like overhaul) dealing with a drug addicted darling. If you are not okay with this fell free to ignore like your work <3

Honestly, I wasn't sure if I should even reply to this since I'm one of those people who haven't even eaten a brownie or tasted anything before (': So I don't really feel like I can do this confidently.

However, I do think that dependency is such an awesome yandere trope, and I just want to list some that come to mind that I think about a lot:

A mafia/yakuza yandere that is owed money by the darling/'s family, so they suggest the darling gives themselves as payment and they agree.

A yandere doctor who can help the darling's sick family member in return for their love.

A gaslighting savior yandere who makes the darling believe they owe them for saving their life/the life of someone dear to them. (Think firefighter, police, warrior, royalty/nobility, etc. "I saved you, that means you are mine. Without me, you'd be dead!"

A darling sacrificing themselves to a yandere god/entity who forces them into submission or else everyone that sacrificed them will suffer.

The good ol' good cop, bad cop yandere duo where the mean one fakes being nice to the darling and the nice one goes crazy on them and vice versa, so they'll look at the other one for help.

Monster yandere that will provide for the darling who's alone and scared in the big, dark forest, but also threaten to eat them if they don't let them 'love' their new mate.

The yandere brings home someone that matters to the darling and tells them that if they behave their dear one can stay alive, and if the darling doesn't, then the friend dies. Additionally, have the friend plead for their life to the darling while the yan proposes their idea sweetly with a grin.

Darling that falls into their yandere's arms after being locked in a dark room for too long, clinging to their yandere out of desperation and continue to fear the threats of ever being put back in there.

Y'all can feel free to share more if you have ideas! Sorry for hijacking the ask, hope you don't mind anon!

Eternity

⊱⋅ ────── ❴ • ✿ • ❵ ────── ⋅⊰

✿Yandere!Vampire X Reader✿

✿Warnings:Yandere themes,Male!Yandere,GN!Reader,kidnapping mention,death mention,blood mention,dark themes.

✿Note:I'd really like to be writing but I'm still kind of bad and this month I still have a few things to do, but I'll make it sometime later and I promise to try and post something for you during that time.

Sorry again, ok? Hope you like it.

✿Note2:I swear I tried to keep Reader as gender neutral as possible, hope it worked out, hope you like the writing of it.

⊱⋅ ────── ❴ • ✿ • ❵ ────── ⋅⊰

When has it been years since he last saw you?

He knew that at least centuries had passed since his death, but all the sweet memories were still fresh in his mind, be it the memory of the first day he laid eyes on you to the bitter memory of when he held your body fragile and lifeless in his arms one last time.

When he first met you he was a young vampire, newly created and naive, marveling at all the things he has now received in his afterlife but when he first saw you his chest filled with a new feeling, it wasn't anxiety or ambition, it was the purest and sweetest love.

You were a human, a mortal who would live your short life and die of old age, this in a happy situation of course, but he didn't care about any of that, the only thing he wanted was to be by your side, ensuring you were happy and loved until your last breath, and you became a happy and loving couple who loved each other unconditionally…but not everyone was happy with their relationship.The older vampires for the most part abhorred their relationship and fought fiercely to separate them, as a vampire, an immortal, should not waste their time on a mortal and weak being, and it was with that idea in mind that older vampires organized the most diverse ways to try to separate the couple falling in love, until they crossed all limits.

They killed you, in front of the eyes of your beloved who even though he fought so hard couldn't save you and with their deaths, the older vampires believed that now the young vampire would finally accept that an immortal and a mortal could never live together and happy, and they were right, the young vampire accepted that fact, but at that moment it only served one thing, to feed his hatred.

For decades the vampire has harbored a tremendous grudge and hatred for the vampires who killed you, only planning his revenge and who would have thought that obedient and loyal vampire servant would turn against his superiors?

He tortured each of them and sucked all the essence from their bodies, absorbing all the power of the older vampires which resulted in the death of all the vampires who were involved in your murder.

He became the most powerful vampire in the region, as he fed off other vampires, which was a horrendous action for all vampires, but he didn't care, after all, nothing else mattered now, he managed to avenge his loved one but that didn't he brought her back into his arms.The vampire became cruel, cold and embittered but his power and influence grew and every few years he changed places and lived like a nobleman wherever he went, to disguise his unconventional life the vampire went to balls and events social, but only at night,of course.

But that was when he saw you at one of those dances, it was you for sure! The clothes might have fit the current fashion, but it was still you!

He had no doubts about that and after many years living in the densest and darkest fog he finally managed to see a light so he wouldn't lose you again, he would take you away to live in his castle isolated from everything and everyone, he would prove your sweet blood one last time and it would turn you into a vampire.

So finally you could live together happily, for all eternity.

⊱⋅ ────── ❴ • ✿ • ❵ ────── ⋅⊰

[REMASTERED] Yan!Hank J Wimbleton Headcanons

I am most definitely not proud of the first set of Hank HCs I did, my beloved deserves better representation and I'm here to give him it. Henceforth to self indulgent criminal psychology --- reader is human !!! (HAPPY 420TH POST)

It was a slow burn, really. Something that started as just mere interest, something that started as a source of slight entertainment. Something so frail and vulnerable as you stumbling around a place like Nevada like it was absolutely nothing to you. Hank watched and waited, pondering if now would be the time you get swarmed and promptly dismembered by whatever may cross your path. It was like a game to him. Will his predictions be right this time? Will today be the day of your defilement and destruction? It very well may be

Soon enough though, with every passing day he found himself watching you, the idea of anyone tainting your innocence with their dirty hands made him absolutely sick to his stomach. It just didn't sit right with him anymore. It was no longer a childish guessing game to Hank, it was now a mission. He's not going to sit back and watch as you stumble right into a slaughter ground. For whatever reason, Hank felt he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he allowed that to happen to you

Just as he first began to put his plan into motion, however, he noticed someone new by your side. Someone new that was holding you, walking you through the desolate wasteland that was Nevada. Someone that should've been him. Hank hated the way they just couldn't seem to get their grubby hands off of you. The way you gave him a pretty, angelic smile whenever they cracked some stupid joke or when they grabbed your hand. That smile was supposed to be for his eyes only, your body was supposed to be for his hands only, so this just won't do. No, it won't do at all

It won't take long for you to witness your first Nevada killing after Hank witnesses your new suitor. Hank is a very skilled murderer, so placing their head on a spike strategically right where you'll find it isn't anything that's out of Hank's ballpark. Let it serve as a lesson to you. You weren't supposed to allow anyone else to dirty you. If you would have just stayed loyal, stayed innocent, then this wouldn't have happened. He wants you to be better next time, he really does, but Hank doesn't want to sit around and wait for this to happen again. He doesn't believe in second chances

There will be no elaborate plan for your abduction. There doesn't need to be one. When he has his sights on you next time, it will take mere seconds for him to kidnap you. Nobody will help you when they rationalize that it's Hank J Wimbleton commiting the act against you, they know better than to stand in his way out of fear of suffering what they believe will be your fate alongside you. Rushing behind you and pulling you down with a hand over your mouth, it's game over. No use in struggling or crying out for help, as Hank is far stronger than you or anyone stupid enough to stand between him and what be wants.

Hank does not tolerate escape attempts. If you dare try and leave him, after all he's done to keep you safe, he'll gladly plan to tear your disobedience right from your psyche. He is most definitely not afraid to hurt you to get what he wants from you, as he knows well enough about you to know how much pain he's able to cause you. Breaking your mind completely isn't off the table either. After all, a love slave is better than an ungrateful brat. He'll gladly settle for such if it means you'll allow yourself to find solace in his arms. Hank only wants what's best for you, he's not completely evil after all. Not towards you, at least!

Hank definitely has a thing for watching you. His favorites are seeing you sleeping and breathing, something about it is just so satisfying to him. Hopefully you'll someday allow him to watch you without you recoiling into yourself out of fear

Hank, no matter how cold-blooded he may seem, desires your affection above all else. He craves it, it's like a drug to him despite never even having gotten a taste of it. He needs it, and he'll be waiting patiently for whenever you're ready to finally give it to him

To be Worshipped by Gods (1)

I've fallen down the SAGAU rabbit hole and I never want to get out ❤ but no I've been genuinely enjoying everything all the lovely authors have written and I really wanted to add something, so here it is!

This was heavily inspired by the works of @wisteriaisekai, @streimiv, and @myuni-moon so credits to them and their absolutely magnificent works! Please make sure to check their tumblrs out and give them lots of love!!

Just a note, this is my first time using and posting on tumblr so if the formatting looks weird then it's probably because of that. And now, let's begin! Also note that Ei's part might seem shorter than the rest because I'm only AR35 and have just begun her archon quest.

All deities, small or big, weak or strong, are aware of your existence, of a divine being so much more powerful and ancient than they could ever hope to understand. Of a God who made the very earth of Teyvat sing, its winds chime like psalms, and make the electrified air hum and buzz, for that God is the Creator, the Maker that has blessed them with the precious, unparalleled gift of life. It is thus only natural for the deities of Teyvat, some so stubborn and prideful, to bow upon their knees and pray to you, be it for power or peace, health or wealth.

The Archons of today are no exception to this:

Zhongli has always worshipped you, wholly and fully and never faltering in his offerings to the revered shrine he had personally made for you using cor lapis and the rarest jades and jewels, some of which merchants would kill to get their hands on. He had built the shrine with his own two hands, each stone and rock tenderly placed, for he would never dare insult or disrespect you.

The shrine is the one place every Archon and deity could go to and never fear any fight— it is a revered and holy site, and none of them will dare sully the shrine with blood, grudges, and fights. It is also a place Zhongli feels calmest— but that is to be expected, for he is sure that it is your divine presence, even stifled, that allows his weary and tired soul to rest, that allows all whispers of erosion and past regrets to be whisked away from his mind.

All the more reason for me to believe, to be thankful, is what he tells himself as he lays a bouquet of wild glaze lilies at the base of your shrine, right beside a box of warm, home-made food.

It is, thus, through the Archons of this generation and past that the people of Teyvat now pray to you in war and in peace, place offerings at their doorways for prosperity and protection and have festivals in your honor—

Such as Mondstadt, where Venti adores singing about you every Windblume and Ludi Harpastum, letting the people hear all about how magnificent and wonderful you are, for you embody everything and nothing, just as you embody creation and destruction, peace and war, life and death.

How utterly perfect you are, he sings with happiness and reverence in his heart, with joy at being able to call you his beloved God. Often, when he's neither doing bard duties nor at the tavern bothering Master Diluc, Venti slips away to Stormterror's Lair to remember the days of Decarabian's tyrannical rule. Back then, Venti had not been quite as staunch and devoted in his belief in you, for he had so foolishly blamed you for the people's pain and subjugation.

It all changed with his beloved friend's last words— for what he said had been a prayer of thankfulness from the heart, with happy tears in his eyes and smile on his face:

"Thank you, Divine One, for giving us strength."

Venti had at that exact moment understood— because yes, just as you had filled Decarabian with so much hate and malice, you had as equally given his people the strength and hope to push back and reclaim their freedom.

How could he not devout himself to you then, when he finally knew of your kind heart? Of your utter brilliance, which can be seen in your creations.

Never again will Venti be so callous and negligent in his reverence for you, this he had sworn to himself.

On the other hand, the Raiden Shogun's summer festival pays respect and thankfulness to all that you have created for them, for all the joys you've allowed them to experience and all the bountiful lands you've given them. The Tenryou Commission reminds all its military units, led by Kujou Sara, to always remember to pray for you during battle just as they pray for the Raiden Shogun.

Ei, in the only time she comes out of her plane of euthymia, performs a personal ritual in a secret room in the Tenshukaku, dedicated all to you. She thinks of you, of an Eternity achieved with your blessing, of an Eternity spent worshipping you, and scatters sakura blossoms into the skies. She hopes with all her heart that at the very least, you are aware of the sakuras.

All of this and more is the reason why when Albedo approaches Venti to tell him of a machine his master had made but never got to finish meant to summon their beloved God, the Archon does not hesitate before he agrees. 

He'll never pass the chance to have you, his precious God, here with him in Teyvat— he already plans to show you all his secret, favorite spots. No doubt you already know them, but he still wishes to spend as much time as possible with you, to have the winds that so freely obey him caress and hold you. 

The only issue is— he has to bring in the other Archons, for the machine requires a great amount of concentrated elemental energy, far more than any human, be they vision-bearers or not, would ever be able to wield. 

Venti controls all winds of Teyvat, it takes but moments for him to tell the other three Archons of the plans despite his initial sulkiness and displeasure. In no time, the three Gods of Freedom, Contracts, and Eternity find themselves enclosed together in a lab deep within Dragonspine. 

Everything has been prepared and they are all more than ready to meet you— they've been ready from the very second they opened their eyes, took their first breath, and began to command the elements. 

All that remains is to bring you here, to the world you had so lovingly created for them. No offering, no song, no festival could ever show the true depth of their love and devotion for you, thus it only stands that they must do more for you. 

But first, you must be here for them to worship you properly as you deserve. 

okay, so— hypothetically, what if i were to kiss yandere! thoma/itto silly?

How dare you kiss him! Come 'ere, let him smooch you properly! Itto would be shocked but that shock would melt away the moment he gets his hands on you!! He'll take your breath away, your lips will be all red, bruised and swollen by the time he's done with you! He's dreamed of this day and now that it's a reality, he won't let you go!! You're all his now, his sweet little baby! His gang will welcome you with open arms and by the end of the night Itto's lap will be your new throne.

Thoma on the other hand, will be a bit different than Itto. While their shock is the same, Thoma's kisses will be much more gentle and sweet. Itto's kisses will make you see stars, while Thoma's will leave you breathless, begging for more. His lips taste like good tea and sweet candy, it's hard not to smooch him! You'll both get lost in each others eyes, your hands will be all over his hair and by the time you're finally done, you'll see that a whole new day has already begun. Whoops.

Title: Ingress

Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x F. Reader (HXH).

Commissioned by the very lovely, very generous @furudolove.

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: NonCon, Overstimulation, Imprisonment, Dehumanization, Slight Infantilization, and Intimidation.

[Part Two]

As it turned out, Illumi was a shockingly difficult man to stab.

It should’ve been enough that he didn’t notice the missing knife, or the slot you’d carved into your mattress, once you deemed the bedside table too obvious and the wardrobe too difficult to get to, in the middle of the night, when you thought you heard someone breathing in the corner of your room. It should’ve been enough that he getting busier, leaving you alone more often, giving you more time to pry at the windows and test the doors. It should’ve been enough, but the doors were always locked, and the windows were sealed shut, and having a weapon didn’t do you any good if you didn’t have an opportunity to use it, if Illumi was never around to use it on.

If you couldn’t find the right time to lure him into your room, turn off the lights, and drive something sharp into whatever you could reach.

It didn’t help that he wasn’t around very often, for as much as he went on about giving you time to get to know him. There was… something he had to do, something that kept him away from the wing of the estate he was keeping you in for most of the day, if not the entirety of it. When he came back, if he came back, it was for something specific, to deliver your meals or make sure you were keeping yourself entertained or help you get dressed, like he was doing now, a habit he’d latched onto after he decided it just wasn't as enjoyable to watch you do it yourself. You could feel his eyes boring into you, watching as you tensed up every time his fingertips brushed against your skin, every time his hands lingered longer than absolutely necessary.

It was just a shirt – one of his, you guessed, by the way it hung off your shoulders, how it fell to your mid-thigh before tapering off – but he took his time sliding it over your head, then smoothing over the light fabric, correcting mistakes you doubted you’d be able to find, on your own. When he was satisfied, he drew back, kissing your forehead. Rewarding you for your good behavior.

Part of you enjoyed it, savored the attention after being left alone for so long. Part of you was tempted to call him a liar, to ask why he bothered kidnapping you at all if he was just going to ignore you, to try and make conversation, like he wasn’t your captor, like he wasn’t keeping you here against your will. It wasn’t surprising. Illumi was the only person you’d so much as seen in days, let alone spoken to. You wanted to spend time with someone. You wanted to hear someone else’s voice.

Rather than dwell on that temptation any further, you took it as a sign that you had get out of here. Quickly.

It was a small mercy that he didn’t insist on tucking you in, too, but that might’ve been preferable to how he hovered over you as you awkwardly slid under your sheets, to how content he seemed just to stand back and observe. There was another kiss, this one to your cheek, then the corner of your jaw, neither as fleeting as you would’ve liked them to be. Clearly, he was taking his time, tonight. “I’ll wake you up, tomorrow morning,” He said, his tone flat, affection all-but completely absent from his voice. “I have something planned. Something you’ll like.”

He straightened his back, moving to leave, but you caught his wrist before you could think better of it. “I… I’ve actually been having a lot of trouble sleeping,” You mumbled, staring at the floor. “I just thought— I’m alone for most of the day, and I was thinking— I know I’m probably going to have to share a bed with you eventually, so…”

“Oh.” You sighed, letting yourself relax. “If you need another sedative, I can—”

“I was hoping you could stay,” You managed, cutting him off. “Just until I fall asleep. If you want to, I mean.”

He didn’t respond, not at first. Then, you heard him laugh, and he pulled himself out of your grip entirely, resting his hand on the top of your head, instead. “Of course. All you had to do was ask.”

As surprised as he acted, he didn’t hesitate to circle to the other side of your bed, taking several long minutes to remove the auxiliary parts of his outfit, pry off his shoes, and rather liberally, take off his shirt, depositing it on the floor before climbing onto your mattress and lying down on his back, his posture as stiff as you expected it to be. You were almost tempted to reach out, to initiate some form of intimacy that might make him seem a little less tense, but again, you swallowed the urge, turning away switching off the small lamp on your bedside table, the only source of light in your bedroom, leaving you and Illumi in total darkness.

You tried to relax, settling onto your side near the edge of the mattress. You let your arm fall off the side of the bed, your fingertips brushing against the top of the wooden bedframe, keeping yourself to little movements, unremarkable nothings. Trying to play off your shifting to as a nervous fidgeting, an attempt to find a comfortable position. “I honestly didn’t think you’d agree,” You admitted, trying to fill the silence, to cover the sound of your hand creeping under the fitted sheet. “You’ve seemed… busy, lately. I didn't think you'd be willing to waste your time on something like this.”

There was a hum, low and slight. You spared a glance over your shoulder. His eyes were still open, but they were glazed over, unfocused. For a few, horrifying seconds, you couldn’t remember the last time you'd seen him blink. “I have another mark. It shouldn’t take more than an hour, but our client wants it to be untraceable. It makes things…” You found the slot. “It makes things time-consuming. More so than they have to be.”

You felt the handle, cold and metallic, and fished it out of its hiding place, grasping it tightly. “You’re leaving?”

You felt him roll onto his side, facing your back. “Only for a few days, if at all.” His fingertips brushed against the small of your back, drawing shallow circles into the base of your spine. “Would you miss me, if I did?”

You went for his neck, since his chest wasn’t an option, anymore. It was one long, fluid movement – turn over, wrench the knife up, then plunge it down. You didn’t have to kill him, necessarily, just immobilize him. Make it so he’d be too busy bleeding out to care if you cut off a finger, to follow you when you finally got out of his estate and finally got away from him—

He caught your wrist halfway through the downswing, squeezing your wrist until you heard a short, sharp crack. You dropped the knife instinctively, attempting to shrink into yourself, but Illumi held you tight, watching your only weapon fall uselessly to the mattress.

“Of course.” He let you go, and you pulled your arm against your chest, scrambling backwards. You wrist throbbed, pain shooting down the length of your forearm. In the dim light, he almost looked hurt, but it was just the ghost of an expression, a hint at nothing that was gone by the time he sat up. “Come here.”

You were already standing, already backing away from bed. You legs felt unsteady, your throat dry, scratchy, as if you’d tried to choke down cotton. You didn’t respond, and Illumi sighed, shaking his head. Performative displeasure. An attempt at portraying disappointment that couldn’t quite be anything but an attempt. “I didn’t break anything. Come here.”

Your back hit the far wall. Illumi stood up.

He didn’t run towards you, or tackle you to the floor. It was almost gentle, the way he touched you, how lightly his thumb grazed over your cheek before he took up your jaw, tilting your head back without the slightest trace of force. “Do you feel neglected? Is that why you’re acting out?”

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, your voice shaking. “I just wanted to—”

“You just wanted to get away from me.”

You tried to focus on his chest. “I don’t want to be here.”

His hand dropped to your collar, then your thigh, hiking the hem of your shirt up to your midriff. You tried to push him away, but if he cared, he didn’t bother doing anything more than leaning down, letting his teeth ghost over the side of your neck. Where you’d try to plunge your knife, minutes ago. “Don’t resist. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

A finger slipped under the waistband of your panties, edging the fabric downward. “What are you—”

“Don’t resist.” He was growling, now, snarling against your skin. “I told you I wanted a partner, not a pet. But, if you’re so determined to force me to treat you like some untrained, drooling animal, I’m more than happy to accommodate.”

You still tried to protest, to shove him away, but anything intelligent you might’ve said was quickly replaced by a sudden, airy gasp as he tore through your panties, letting the ruined scraps fall to the floor as he ran two fingers down the length of your slit, clicking his tongue when he found you dry. You tried to grab at his hand, but all he had to do was draw back, stare down at you with those blank, pitiless black eyes, and you were glaring at the floor, dropping your arms to your sides and curling your hands into tight, tense fists. He nodded, once, then lowered his head back to your neck, latching onto the sensitive area just above your jugular and biting down.

It wasn’t a love-bite. It wasn’t a hickey, or a kiss, or anything that gentle, anything you could try to convince yourself he might’ve thought was romantic. It was too harsh for that, too violent, with too little hesitation and too many sounds, his tongue laving over your skin, licking at the shallow wound, only letting a few drops of blood reach your chest. You shut your eyes, fighting the urge to shudder, but it was a short-lived act of disobedience. He was already cupping your cunt, grinding the heel of his palm into your clit, pushing two fingers through your tight entrance, leaving you to gasp and squirm and hide your face in your hands – a reaction that didn’t escape Illumi’s notice. “Don’t be childish,” He muttered, his voice deep, even, nearly too low to hear. “You’ve earned this. You might as well take it with an ounce of dignity.”

And yet, he didn’t stop you from shrinking into yourself as he spread his fingers apart, scissoring you open, stretching your cunt with such practical, utilitarian movements, it only made you feel more ashamed of the heat pooling in your stomach, the slight whimper you let out as he began to pump his fingers into you, starting out just slowly enough to let you adjust, to let you feel the slick start to build-up, making his touch feel less invasive and more… uncomfortable, unwanted. Not enjoyable, but not quite anything else, either, not blatantly cruel enough to make it an act of sadistic glee. You tried to clamp your thighs shut, to do what you could to block him out, but all it took was a knee to stop you, to keep you in place. To keep you vulnerable and on-display, just for him.

You almost wished he’d hit you. While you were waiting, planning, you hadn’t let yourself think about what would happen if he caught you, but when you couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts, when you were alone and afraid and still trying to forget the feeling of his hands on your skin, you assumed that he'd have a delayed reaction, that you’d be locked in an empty room for a few days, or tortured with sterile equipment by a stranger in white clothes, or killed, if he decided the disposal was less trouble than keeping you around. Either way, it would be violent, and painful, and impersonal, you wouldn’t have to feel his small smile against your neck as you unwillingly bucked against his palm, or let him kiss the edge of you jaw so gingerly, like he was suddenly afraid of hurting you. It felt like something was crawling up your throat. It felt like you were breathing acid, like it was slowly corroding your lungs, your veins. It felt like—

It was almost painful, when he curled his fingers upward and everything seemed to burn. He eased you through your climax, as much as you wished he wouldn’t, as much as you wished he’d just pull away entirely and let you collapse in on yourself. But, he wasn’t that nice, and when he finally pulled out, seconds later, it wasn’t an act of mercy. He didn’t hesitate, just bringing his fingers to your mouth and staring down at you, expectantly. “Clean me up.”

You frowned. You would’ve slapped him, if you weren't so sure he'd break your arm for it. “I’m not—”

He shoved two fingers past your parted lips, cutting you off. He held you like that, for a second, watching as you gagged and sputtered, before letting you go, causally wiping his hand on your shirt. He grabbed the fabric, afterwards, tugging on it lightly. “Take this off.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, a protective gesture rather than a defiant one. “Do I have to?”

“Come on, now.” He cupped your chin, running his thumb over your cheek idly. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

You hesitated, but not for very long. Reluctantly, you pulled your shirt over your head, clutching it to your chest then dropping it completely when he showed no signs of approval. His shirt. It was his shirt. It was easier if you thought of it as his shirt, and pretended you were glad to be rid of it.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” A slight melody, a softened monotone. Like he was talking to something lesser, something inferior to himself. “I know you can be good for me, if you just listen."

You didn’t respond to that. Illumi didn’t pretend to care.

He took you by the wrist, leading you forward. In few minutes, you were lying on the back, near the edge of the mattress, Illumi between your legs, sucking bruises into the inside of your thighs. You grit your teeth when you felt his tongue on your cunt, tracing the shape of your slit, but your composure cracked when you heard his voice, mumbling meaningless nothings, what was left of it breaking away completely at the first pangs of overstimulation. “Please don’t, I—” Your voice gave out as his tongue dipped into your pussy, teasing you, experimenting, before his attention drifted, his mouth soon occupied with your clit – lapping and sucking and doing whatever made you spasm around nothing, whatever made you grind against his mouth, out of pleasure or revulsion, he didn't seem to care. “Illumi, please, I’ll do anything else, it hurts—”

“Stop talking.” The words were muffled, grunted against the skin of your thigh. “Good pets don’t complain.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it again just as quickly, biting down on the side of your tongue.

There wasn’t a point arguing with him. You’d only make it worse, if you did anything at all.

You did your best to pretend it wasn’t happening. You kept your fists at your sides, your eyes clenched shut, but you were more sensitive, now, you couldn’t ignore him, this time, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shooting up, either, from grabbing at his hair as his hands moved to your hips and his tongue fucked into you, alternating between battering your clit and drawing awful, aimless patterns into your cunt. You tried to pull him away, to give yourself a second to breath, but Illumi only let out a soft groan, dragging you closer, making everything that much worse. You cried out as you came, something that might’ve been a moan overlapping with a cracked, broken sob, and thankfully, graciously, mercifully, he chose not to take his time, drawing back and pushing his lips against yours, kissing you softly. Unbearably, agonizingly, softly.

You shouldn’t have given up so quickly.

You shouldn’t have stopped until you’d stabbed him. At least once. At least until he stopped moving.

He didn’t ask you to move. He didn’t have to. He could reposition you on his own, take you by the waist and force you onto your knees, to hold you there, when you writhed and squirmed, weakly clawing at his arms. You heard fabric rustling, material against material, and you felt something press against your entrance, something hot.

You barely had time to inhale before he forced his cock into you, only stopping when he bottomed out, when you could feel him in your stomach. It hurt. You buried your face in the sheets, trying to stifle your own meek, pathetic whimpers. It hurt.

He didn’t give you time to adjust, taking up a pace that was just a little too fast, a little too intense. It might’ve been an oversight, on his part, a failure to recognize your discomfort, to even think to look, but your hopeful delusions were dealt with swiftly, crushed as soon as you felt his chest against your back, his grin pressing into the dip of your shoulder, wide and manic. Like he wanted you to feel it. Like he wanted you to know it was there.

You almost wished he would bite you again, just to distract you, just to take your mind off Illumi, off the way he was fucking you, brutally, viciously, like his only goal in life was to feel you clench around his cock, to feel your back arch against him and listen to you sob and moan and whine whenever he found something new to focus on, something new to work. His presence was invasive, his closeness alone making it difficult to think, difficult to do anything but hold yourself rigid and try to choke another breath’s worth of air into your lungs. He pulled away from you, ever so slightly, and his hair slipped over his shoulder, forming an inky black curtain to separate you from the rest of the room, the rest of the world. You were almost grateful for it, the slight reprieve, the excuse to sink into the mattress and let yourself melt, ever so slightly, just enough to feel everything a little less. Your body was so tired, adrenaline turned to solid lead in your veins, and your mind was beginning to drift, your thoughts forming with a soft haze around them, your—

You felt his cock twitch inside of you, his pelvis press against your ass, and you snapped to attention, the blissful fog dissipating in an instant and pure, undiluted panic flooding in to take its place. You shook your head violently, attempting to straighten your back and push him off of you, but Illumi only chuckled, rubbing circles into your side, making a half-hearted effort to hush you. You throat felt tight, on the verge of closing-up, and your words were garbled, coming out in slurred, stilted clusters. “Don’t, don’t, please, honey, please, pull out—”

The same two fingers, shoved past your lips, pressed into your tongue briefly before he shoved them down you throat. You choked around his fingers, your body registering the intrusion before your mind could process it, but he seemed more amused by your spasming than anything, he seemed to like the way you tensed up, the way you clamped down around him. “Be quiet,” He snarled, grinding into you, unwilling to give you a moment to breath or rest or think. “Good pets don’t talk.”

One more thrust, one more deep, guttural groan before his pace faltered, his body seizing up on top of yours. You convulsed weakly as something warm and terrible filled your cunt, leaking out around his cock, dripping down your thighs. He didn’t move, for a moment, savoring the feeling of your skin against his, the sight of your form, prone and helpless, before drawing back, pulling out of you, letting you fall onto bed and curl into yourself, aware of the slick and sweat on your skin, aware of Illumi, standing up and combing his fingers through his hair, still as put-together as he was before he decided he had to break you down. You didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t want to acknowledge him, right now.

But, you didn’t really have a choice, either. In a few seconds, he was touching you again, gathering you up and pulling you into his lap. Your eyes were closed, by then, every part of you limp and drained, but you could feel his hands on your chest, then resting against your collarbones, wrapping something thick and heavy around your neck. Leather, you realized, as you ran your fingertips over its smooth surface, with a metal fastener on the side. A collar.

You might’ve been tempted to laugh, if you weren’t so exhausted.

“I was worried it might not fit.” He was holding you against his chest, lazily stroking your thigh. Petting you, you realized, idly. You tried not to linger on it. “It’s… cute, I think. I might not take it off, when your behavior improves.”

You nodded, but you didn’t say anything.

Good pets weren’t supposed to talk, and you were already so tired of being treated like a bad one.

Canine /// Sesshomaru x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: Upon learning of his father’s affair, Sesshomaru lays waste to a human bordello as revenge…that is, until he discovers a better outlet for his frustrations.

Request: hi!!!!! i just finished your koga fic and i adored it omfggg 🤤🤤🤤 i was just wondering if i could request any 18+ content for sesshomaru with a fem!human reader? if not though no worries at all 💕💕

A/N: This request is almost 2 years old but I hope you’re still around <3 Takes place right after Sesshomaru finds out that the Inu no Taisho left his mother for a human woman, which Sesshomaru is not happy about lmao

imo this is the only good filth I’ve written in a while, hope you guys like it!! If you don’t I will cry lol

Tags/Warnings: dubcon/noncon, predator/prey dynamic, borderline yandere, geisha (sex worker) reader, degradation (anti-human), threats!!, fearplay!!, marking (bites, scratches, bruises) ft. a little bit of blood, dog demon/animalistic/feral stuff, possessiveness, breeding kink (mentioned but no follow-through), implied violence (not toward reader), historical inaccuracies, “girl”, in my brain all of the demons are at least 6’3 so jot that down

Quiet.

There’s a smell like burning, but only half of it is smoke. You can imagine it when you close your eyes. Candles, incense, hearth fire consuming everything it touches. But the other half—the other half is sharp and bitter and acidic. It stings down your throat when you inhale.

Quiet.

You can’t move. The dressing assistant added pins to your complex updo: long golden ornaments hung with strings of shining bells. It was beautiful. You’ve always admired the older girls who wear these, the way the angelic ringing announces their footsteps when they walk. It’s an honor to be wearing the same bells. But now you can’t move.

Quiet.

You hold your breath until you can’t anymore, and then let it out slowly. Shallowly. So carefully that it barely stirs the air. You can’t even hear yourself breathing, but maybe…maybe he can hear it anyway.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter.

Maybe he can smell you.

There are footsteps outside the thin paper wall that separates the room you’re hiding in from the hallway. They’re slow, light, measured. He’s not running—it’s the rest of you who are desperate, scattering like roaches in daylight to avoid him. And you’re the same, cowering in the corner of this empty room, drowning in the heavy silk of your kimono. Trying to convince yourself that the sour acid smell is so strong that you can’t make out the blood.

The footsteps halt just a few feet from where you’re hiding and your heart seizes when you hear them stop, wait. Listening. Listening for you. You wonder if he can hear your heart beating as loud as you can. Why did he stop?

He can hear you, you know he can hear you.

It’s too late. Your hands are shaking as you do it but you force yourself to sink into a bow, kneeling, facing the floor, even as you hear the scrape of wood sliding against wood. The door of the room opening. You’re not really sure why bowing feels right, but it does—half because some animal sense is telling you that this is no ordinary demon, and half because you’re too afraid to face your death directly, if that’s what he is. Your forehead almost meets the tatami mats and the bells in your hair chime lightly and his footsteps pad across the floor to stop in front of you. The burning smell thickens.

“Look at me, human.”

You don’t want to—you don’t want to look, but his voice is a command and there is no will in your body strong enough to deny it. You lift your head from the floor, still kneeling, and force yourself to meet his eyes.

A demon…?

You’re not sure. In the stories, demons are ugly. You’ve only ever seen them in scroll paintings: horrible slavering monsters, grotesque distortions of mundane beasts. Repulsive things. Less than human. But the demon in front of you (if he is a demon) is something else. He’s not human—you’d know that by the color of his eyes, if nothing else—but he’s beautiful. Colder and more beautiful than pure winter snow. As soon as your eyes meet his, you’re held captive; you couldn’t look away if you tried…

But that doesn’t mean you can’t smell the dark splatters of blood slashed in arcs over his clothing. Or the hissing miasma of poison issuing off his clawed nails.

“Girl…will you not attempt to run? Or do you believe I will grant you mercy if you beg for it?” His inhuman gaze travels down your body and you press your palms into the floor to make your shaking less obvious. “Are you not afraid? Answer me.”

“Yes,” you whisper. You’re terrified, paralyzed by fear and the overwhelming knowledge that you have never in your short life been closer to death than you are now. Even if you thought you could escape by running, you don’t think you could compel your muscles to move.

His eyes narrow. “You knelt before I entered the room.”

“I…yes…it was…” Your breath is coming quickly now, as if your lungs can’t get enough oxygen. Why is he talking to you? Isn’t he going to kill you? Will he tear you apart with his claws, or will he simply snap your neck?

“Speak clearly.”

You try, but your throat is seizing up with terror and your mind is going blank. The poison will probably hurt more…you picture him reaching toward you and digging the claws into your skin, letting the acid eat through your flesh… “I knelt…out of—out of respect…”

“Hm?” A flicker of an expression passes his face, but you can’t name it. “So here is a human who knows her place, at the feet of her superior. Your kind is usually so arrogant.”

If you were in your right mind you’d take offense at this demon having the nerve to call you arrogant, but you’re not foolish enough to anger a creature whose bare hands could tear you to pieces without a single thought. “Sir—sir, please—“

“Not ‘sir’. Lord. You speak to the inu daiyokai Sesshomaru, son of the Inu no Taisho, Lord of the Western Lands.”

Lord of the Western Lands? You’ve never heard of any such title, but you know not to question him. “My lord—” you gasp, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment because the heat behind your eyelids cannot be allowed to break. “My lord, please, is there anything I can do to serve you?”

“How could you serve me? What use could you possibly have?” Sesshomaru’s face remains impassive, but out of the corner of your eye you can tell that his hands are no longer glowing green with poison.

You don’t know what ridiculous idea you’ve latched onto in your desperation, but he doesn’t seem to be killing you yet, so you have no choice but to keep at it. “Th-this place is a teahouse! It would be an—an honor to entertain such an esteemed guest.”

“A teahouse,” he repeats.

You swallow and attempt to suppress the sense that you’re digging your own grave every time you speak. “Yes, my lord… I-I could perform a tea ceremony? Or if you would prefer to drink, I could pour for you. Or I could—I could play—“

You’re cut off by the sudden movement of Sesshomaru in front of you as he crouches to your level—you’d pull back, but as soon as the thought crosses your mind you feel his hand wrapping around your chin, tilting your face up. “The tea ceremony and shamisen…surely these are not your only talents, girl.”

Don’t move. Keep still. The sides of Sesshomaru’s long nails press lightly on the tender skin under your chin. You stare straight forward and don’t speak.

“I do not think I am mistaken.” His other hand comes up and you close your eyes, only to feel the pad pressing into your lower lip and then tracing the red makeup on your eyelids. “This is a whorehouse.” Sesshomaru’s voice is low, pensive, as if he’s talking to himself. His hand ghosts over your head and before you can register that he’s touched you, the pins and combs from your updo are ringing down against the floor and your hair is springing loose.

“…It is, my lord,” you answer after a beat, as it occurs to you for the first time that there may be something this demon is more interested in taking than your life.

“Stand,” Sesshomaru says, and when you’re too stunned to obey immediately, he grips you by the collar of your kimono and pulls you upright. Your knees almost buckle and he folds his arm behind your back, propping you up against him. “Calm yourself.”

The spikes on his breastplate push into your chest. You try to feel out for something reassuring—a crease in his brow, a flush in his cheeks, body heat, something human—but there is no trace of a flaw in his perfect composure. His hands are cool where they touch your skin. You have to…he wants…

But does he even want you? You tip your head up from his shoulder to face him and his lip curls like he’s about to snarl. There’s no heat in his gaze. His eyes are so cold that you feel gooseflesh stand up on your arms, as if a spirit is dragging its icy fingers down your spine. There’s no way he’s attracted to you—how could he be, when the expression on his face is nothing less than consummate disgust?

Sesshomaru does not want you. You’ve misinterpreted something. Because every sense in your body is telling you that when you look at him, you are looking into the face of someone who hates you. You are going to die, like the customers in the rooms next door, like the other girls who had the misfortune of coming across him before you did and trying to run. You are going to be killed.

You try to flinch back, put some space between the two of you, but his arm is rigid behind you and you aren’t given an inch. He eyes narrow a fraction and his grip tightens, thumb pressing into your spine through the many layers of your kimono. “Such a cowardly species. Even a geisha is so skittish.”

And then he grips your jaw and presses his mouth into yours.

Your pulse stutters and trips. The kiss is light, but Sesshomaru’s hold on your body isn’t. He pulls away and you suck in a dazed breath. “L-Lord Sesshomaru…”

“Undress me,” he orders.

///

Warm, Sesshomaru thinks. You’re warm.

Your heat pushes into him through your hands ghosting over his body as you fumble with the straps of his armor and then unfold the robe from your own narrow shoulders. When he had you pinned against his chest, he’d felt the warmth of your body even through every layer of fabric and metal that separated you from him. And when he kissed you, he’d felt that same sultry wet spread inside your mouth.

Perhaps this is why his father has come to prefer mortal women.

He stops you before you take off the last layer of his kimono. When you finally slip the last piece of clothing from your shoulders, Sesshomaru wastes no time in pulling your naked body into his, holding you by your shoulders when you try to stumble back from him. Your skin is fever-warm to his touch—you’re so pliant, so malleable—but you’re no less terrified than you were when he walked into this room and found you kneeling in front of the bedroll with your forehead pressed to the ground. You’ve been obedient, which is good. Your obedience is the only reason you’re alive. But your fear is wrapping around your body so thick he can smell it, and it’s making his blood rise.

His cock twitches where it’s pressed against your stomach through his clothing, and you suppress a gasp, but when he scratches the blunt edges of his fingernails over your skin you can’t hold back the squeak of surprise. Like a frightened rabbit, he thinks with—pleasure? Which is odd, and yet…

Seeing this human girl submitting, delicate and vulnerable and so obviously aware that she is beneath him, is a pleasure.

“Tell me, girl. Why do you fear me?”

You’re acutely aware of your own nakedness, not to mention his, especially when his cock is pressing insistently into your abdomen. Why is he asking you—? Of course you’re afraid. How many corpses did he leave on his path here? “You—you killed—“

“Not just that. You know to fear me. Your body knows. If I came upon you in the dark, if you were blind and deaf, you would still know to fear me.”

When he speaks, you can see flashes of his canines, sharper than any human’s. He’s right. You would know. “You’re a demon,” you murmur.

“And you are a human. A very weak one.” A claw traces your cheek and you shudder. “Your kind is prey to mine. Prey to be killed…and eaten.”

Are you going to be eaten?

“This is unnatural,” he muses under his breath, lowering his mouth to your throat. “Obscene.” You feel the brush of his lips on the artery in your neck and wonder if he can sense the pump of your blood, responding to his touch. “Sick.”

And then Sesshomaru—he nips that spot on your neck. The bite isn’t near hard enough to hurt, but it shocks you because you’ve never felt teeth so sharp against your skin. You whimper, and even to your own ears, it doesn’t sound like a whimper of pain.

“Despite every danger I pose to you, you seek pleasure. Humans are such base creatures.”

It’s not fair—it’s not even true, is it? You’re going along with this to appease him. You shake your head lightly, but you don’t resist when he pushes you down into the bedroll. Do you even want to resist?

Submit, your body is telling you. Submit. Submit.

You couldn’t resist. It would be impossible even if you tried. You barely have time to register him tipping his head to the side and and acknowledging your silence before the pressure on your arms increases and air whips through your hair and then the back of your head hits the mattress. Sesshomaru kneels on top of you, knees framing your hips, his loose kimono draping open to reveal a sliver of his pale chest.

“Do you mean to disagree with me?” The lack of inflection in his voice betrays nothing, but you scramble to deny it.

“No! No, my—my lord, please of course I—I’ll do whatever you want—ah!” You cut yourself off with a yelp as he reaches down and wraps his fingers around one of your thighs, unceremoniously dragging your leg up to wrap around his hip.

“But this is what you want.” Sesshomaru reaches down to your cunt and slides two fingers up against your slit, slow and careful so that his nails don’t touch you.

This part is warm too. Warm and wet and sticky, coating his fingers in clear liquid. You must be able to feel how wet you are—and you do, judging by the way your body is squirming and wriggling every time his touch passes over your clit.

Ah…you should stop squirming. For your own good. The feeble little movements of your body underneath his just make him want to pin you harder, force you to be still, force you to surrender.

You buck your hips up against the movement of his hand, wary of his nails but unable to keep yourself from pushing your clit against his fingers. It doesn’t make sense. You’re still scared of him—every time your gaze crosses his, you’re reminded that the man between your legs isn’t even really a man. He’s a demon.

A demon, a demon…

A demon’s fingers are caressing the length of your slit. A demon is crouching over you, covering your chest with his while you rock yourself into him. A demon is lowering his face into your shoulder, breathing in and lapping at your skin like he can smell you. Like he can taste you. Which, you think belatedly (because most of your attention is focused on the things Sesshomaru is doing between your legs), he probably can.

“What…what are you doing,” you gasp halfheartedly as he licks again at the side of your neck. Maybe you shouldn’t ask, but you still haven’t ruled out the possibility that he’s going to eat you, and you’d at least like to know if that’s what he’s preparing for.

To your surprise, he looks…taken aback? It’s hard to tell when his expression changes so little, but he pulls back from you and takes his hand away from your cunt, leaving you feeling needy and anxious. “Humans lack marking customs? How vulgar.”

“Marking…?” you ask. Sesshomaru sits up away from you and you quickly prop yourself up on your hands and draw your legs back toward yourself so you’re sitting in front of him. He sounded displeased. You can’t—you have to give him what he wants. “We do, my lord! Humans—we can leave marks, if, if you would like—“

“Show me.”

You wait a moment and he doesn’t move, so you hesitantly crawl toward him, dragging out each step and letting your knees sink into the cushions because you have no idea if you’re doing the right thing or signing your own death warrant. You reach out, but your hand stills before you can touch him. ‘Marking’ is juvenile, isn’t it? Kiss marks are usually forbidden for customers; they’re considered unprofessional in your line of work. But that’s human ettiquette. Perhaps for demons, it’s something entirely different. Sesshomaru did call himself inu daiyokai—a dog demon, then.

Gathering up the measly courage you still possess, you pick up the collar of Sesshomaru’s kimono and pull it to the side, exposing a patch of the pristine skin where his neck meets his shoulder. He doesn’t move to assist you, so you have to climb into his lap to get close enough. You brush away a few strands of his hair—so long!—and set your mouth against his skin.

How hard should you…? Well, he’s a demon lord, so you doubt you’re capable of harming him. Still, you bite and suck carefully, only increasing the pressure when you feel no sign of resistance from Sesshomaru. When you’re satisfied, you pull back and assess the small bloom of purple-red standing out in stark contrast to his pale skin. Half bite mark, half bruise—you haven’t done this in years, but this is what he wanted, isn’t it?

“This is a human mark?” Sesshomaru’s face is inscrutable as he pets the place where you left the hickey.

You nod slowly. “Is it—is it not good enough?”

“It is faint. But I cannot expect more from a mortal.” His hand moves to your chin, forcing your jaw open so he can push a few clawed fingers between your lips and run them over your canines. “Your teeth are blunt. Useless.”

He pushes his fingers deeper over your teeth and you feel saliva gathering on your tongue, an involuntary response to your efforts to keep your mouth open and still. You can taste yourself…the juices from your cunt on his fingers. “L-Lord—Lord Sesshomaru,” you stutter when he finally pulls them out.

You’re so warm, so soft. Like sinking into bathwater. Sesshomaru wants to be inside you.

“Lie down,” he commands, and when you tentatively lower yourself onto your back he releases a barely-audible sigh of annoyance. “On your stomach, girl.”

You must take a second too long to comply with the command, because in the next moment you feel Sesshomaru above you, flipping you over as easily as if you were made out of paper. You squeak in surprise—the smooth cold of his touch, the edges of his inhumanly long nails grazing over your skin—but that doesn’t stop him from effortlessly pulling your body into alignment with his: him above you and you lying on your belly with your back arched so that your hips can meet his. You squirm your hands under your torso and try to lift yourself off the bedroll, but he pushes you back down without mercy. “Do not test me.”

“No—n-never, never, my lord,” you gasp out as his hand curls around your hip, just as you feel the hard length of him press against your backside and then—slowly, slowly, slide into your cunt. Fuck—this is happening, it’s really—happening, this demon is fucking you. You’re terrified, but you can also feel the slickness of your pussy stretching around him, your body subconsciously giving in to the unwavering dominance of the demon—the man—on top of you.

“Are you still frightened…? And yet you respond so easily,” he says, stroking up the length of your side again and feeling you shiver.

“Yes, I...yes?” You squeeze your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation and trying to drive out everything else. He’s big—pushing you to your limits trying to fit his cock inside and you don’t even sense his hips against you yet. And the feeling—cool, uncomfortably cool in a way that sets every nerve on edge, overly sensitive to every deep place where your body meets his.

It’s like—you can’t even describe it, you know you have to be quiet and obedient for him but your instincts are pulling you in every direction at once—you want to run you want to hide you want to rock your hips back and feel him bottom out, make him fuck you like an animal—and this thought combined with the friction of his cock over that patch inside your drooling walls forces a whine out of your mouth. Apparently he likes it—two fingers pet over your clit and the muscles of your cunt twitch desperately, begging to be filled.

With his body curled over yours like this, you must be able to feel the rumble of his breath as he growls in pleasure. You were—you are better than perfect, your kind, your race—or maybe it’s just you. Your body, the warm wet softness of it. Taking him in, dripping around him as he starts to pump in and out of you, pushing his cock a little deeper with each thrust. Your breath is laced with the high-pitched whimpers and moans you’re not able to suppress, and it’s strange—earlier the sound of your voice (so pathetic, so human) disgusted him, but now?

“Such a weak little thing,” Sesshomaru says, voice low and intoned with something like approval. “I know it hurts…”

You bite your lip roughly and shudder as the head of his thick cock kisses against your womb. It does hurt—you’re no innocent maiden, and it isn’t as if you’re not used to clients being much rougher with you than this, but you’ve never felt so helpless… You can’t even adjust to him, can’t even pull away from him on the plush bedroll because he’s holding you in place, positioning you as his tame little toy with his nails scraping threateningly against the top layer of your skin every time you try to move…

“…but you take me very well. Like your body was made for this—to be bred like this.”

The pace of his thrusts is picking up, knocking your breath into sync every time the weight of his body slaps against yours. His own breath is getting heavier too—you start at the feeling of him folding his torso lower against you, locks of hair spilling over your side in a silver curtain. Once again you want to pull yourself up off the futon, but he isn’t going to let you—a pale hand layers over yours, tendons flexing as he laces his fingers into the spaces between yours. And your nerves are wound so tight with what you’re feeling—the pleasure, the fear, all of it pulling you tight like a harp string—that you aren’t paying quite enough attention to what you’re hearing, until you realize—

Like your body was made to be bred like this.

If you had the strength to actually pull yourself away from the punishing force of him fucking you, you would now; as it stands, you’re too weak to do more than pull uselessly at his grip and shake your head. “No—m-my lord, please—I can’t, my lord, p-please don’t—“

A cold laugh, one that sounds like anger, and Sesshomaru presses the flat of his hand to your stomach, feeling out the path of his cock pushing into your tight, plush body. “Insolent girl. You demand me that I mate for pleasure alone, like—a human…? Your species…your arrogance knows no bounds…”

“Please,” you moan softly. The weight of him—on top of you, inside you, everywhere you can feel—is driving you out of your mind. He’s going to—mate, like he said, he’s going to spend himself deep in your cunt and breed you. “Please—please, I can’t, I can’t—“

The distress in your voice is almost unsettling to Sesshomaru, and this reaction catches him off guard—it’s the intimacy of this action, of fucking you like a legitimate mate (you! a girl, a human, so powerless that resisting him has barely occurred to you!) that’s forcing him to be aware of your fragile emotional state. But demons—dog demons especially—are more attuned to their instincts than humans, the physical responses of their bodies and their partners’, and everything in your body is screaming out acquiescence, submission, fertility.

“Liar…” Sesshomaru murmurs, petting again over your womb and rolling his hips into yours. You’re so wet that he can hear the sounds of your coupling echoing over the walls, the slap of flesh against flesh from where your cunt has dripped slick down your trembling thighs. The sweet, dizzying scent of your arousal (and his) is so thick in the air that he can barely smell the rancid smoke and blood outside—every time he inhales, he feels almost intoxicated by it. You’re not quite in your heat but there’s an edge of it in your natural scent, something rich and heavy underneath all the layers of perfume and oils decorating your skin.

He didn’t come here, to the mortal world, with the intent to mate with a human. Certainly not with the intent to breed her, but…

Sesshomaru takes a deep sigh again and swirls a fingertip over the little bud of nerves at the top of your slit and everything in you convulses, squeezing down on his cock so tight that for a second he can barely move. At this point, there isn’t much that could stop him from finishing inside you, even if he wanted to.

“—please, please—”

…Well, there isn’t much, but the incessant reminder of his instinct to treat the soft, vulnerable body underneath him as a proper mate doesn’t seem to be letting up. The obvious pleasure you’re feeling from having your cunt filled up like this hasn’t stopped you from continuing to whimper and shake your head in denial of what your body is telling you. Your distress seems to be bordering on helplessness now—he can smell it on you—a bitterness folded into that irresistible sweet, and even though he wants to ignore it…

For your part—it doesn’t feel right, none of this—it’s like what he was saying earlier, how this is obscene and you know deep in your core that he’s right. A demon, a dog demon, fucking you like he owns you, ruining your pussy and digging shallow scratches into you to hold you in place—breeding you—you should be afraid, and you are. You should want to cry, and you do. But you shouldn’t like it like this at the same time—you shouldn’t feel your cunt fluttering around him, shouldn’t feel your juices slipping over your body and his, you shouldn’t be wishing he would let you move just a little so you could move your hips back, fuck yourself on his cock like you’re supposed to—how can you want this, both of these things, stop and don’t stop, pull out and cum inside so deep you’re marked with it—

Your head is spinning. You’re too dizzy to think but you hold onto this knowledge, the only certainty you have left: it’s wrong. You can’t you can’t. There’s nothing you can do to stop him but you can’t keep yourself from pleading senselessly with what little breath you’re able to articulate— “please—please—my lord—Sesshomaru—please don’t…”

—and just when you don’t think you can take it any longer, it turns out that he’s at his limit too. The demon growls and brushes your hair away from the side of your neck so he can nuzzle into your pulse point, lap at the thin layer of sweat collecting there. “Quiet,” he hisses, voice labored. “I will not—I have no intention of…fathering…a bastard.”

“Oh—ohhh…” you whine, letting some of the panic drain out of you. You’re not—he won’t—thank god, thank god… The broad muscle of his tongue runs stripes across the side of your throat in a manner that you almost understand is supposed to be comforting, and he keeps rubbing at your clit, coaxing something out of you that you don’t think you should be allowed to give. You want to ask why—why is he stopping himself? why is he touching you? why does he care?—but you know better.

Sesshomaru’s teeth are too close to your neck like this. He should pull back, shouldn’t tempt himself…he knows this, and yet. The smell of you, your relief, your pleasure, the climax that he can feel creeping up on you through the tension in your muscles. It would be unnatural not to do it. The faint little bruise you left on him when he asked about human marking customs is probably already healed, but there’s a phantom ache on his throat reminding him of it—proof that you have no idea what a true mark is supposed to look like.

If he marked you, it would probably take weeks to heal…months. He knows humans are such fragile creatures—it would leave a permanent scar, wouldn’t it? A reminder etched into your skin with his teeth, his claim, his subjugation of you. A demon lord’s power over a human woman. As it should be…why would you be permitted to forget?

He drags the length of his cock out and pushes back in slowly, feeling your insides stretch around him and paying special attention to the way your legs quiver like a newborn foal’s when his cockhead presses against that gummy patch in your inner walls. You’re close to finishing—the fluttering of your cunt and the needy twitch of your hips is proof enough of that. The marking will hurt, but you’ll have to take it well enough when you’re creaming yourself around him.

The fingertips massaging your clit speed up, and you choke out a moan. “Oh—it feels—my lord, please, I—I’m going to—“

Without a hitch in his relentless pace, Sesshomaru pulls back from where he’s been laving over your neck so he can speak lowly into your ear. “This will be painful…”

…What? you think, too focused on the way he’s touching you, fucking you, building up your orgasm to really care what he’s saying. Just like that—just a second more and I’ll—

“Endure it,” Sesshomaru commands, and just as you feel yourself tip over the edge and lose yourself in pleasure, there’s a surge of something behind you, on top of you—some energy, something that makes every hair on your body stand on end because of how inhuman it is, and then—

—ah, it hurts, it hurts…

he’s biting you, teeth puncturing the skin of your shoulder and holding you down in this position of undeniable surrender. The pain is overwhelmed by your sopping cunt clenching around him, all of the sensation rolled together and crashing over you like a wave—and you feel it, feel yourself go under for a second—your vision winking to black as you open your mouth and wordlessly keen like an animal. Tears prick your eyes (from the pain in your shoulder or the force of your climax—you can’t even tell the difference at this point) and you try to pull back and wipe your face but you’re too weak for it. Sesshomaru’s arm is flexed, still holding your hand down and locking you in position. He pulls back from your neck and you can hear his own breath falling out of rhythm, the uncontrolled jerks of his hips into you as your pussy seizes up on his cock.

It takes a moment—a long moment, maybe even longer than that—before you’re able to muster up the strength to speak, but he’s lapping at the mark on your neck and every time his tongue passes over it, the sharp ache of the wound lessens by a fraction. “Did you—was that a demon mark? You marked me?”

Sesshomaru’s chest moves slowly as he pulls out of you and forces his breath to calm—he hasn’t done this in a long time, hasn’t had reason to—and the sight of the claiming mark is waking up something predatory in his blood. He feels—closer to his true form than he should in this appearance; the demon blood is racing through him, youki prickling over his skin and drawing him into you, into the place where his teeth were sunk in your neck—(he did try, he tried to hold back) but even so it’s more pronounced on you than it would be on a demon: a ring of shallow red welts punctuated with the harsher points where his canines drew blood, the flesh puffed and bruised darker than the surrounding skin. Such things are meant to be temporary and periodically renewed between mates, but yours will be permanent.

And still. Still. He wants to do it again. Leave proof of his ownership on every patch of untouched skin on you. Ruin you for anyone else who sees you like this—better, better yet, make sure he is the last, the only one who will ever see you like this, have you like this, ever again.

You asked something. She asked something. Your heart is beating like you’re afraid. You asked if he marked you. He can taste your blood in the air. Sesshomaru’s mouth moves and it wants to speak in the voice of an animal, of a demon, but you won’t understand. “…Yes.”

Oh…he wants to look at you, wants to see the evidence of what he’s done to you in your face. Humans have so little control over what they let themselves feel. “Look at me,” he says, and despite the tremors still passing over you, you tentatively raise yourself up on an arm and twist to look back at him.

The second you reluctantly meet his gaze, your meek expression shifts into horror. “L-Lord—Sesshomaru? Your eyes…”

And it’s then that Sesshomaru realizes what he’s done, what he’s doing. He’s sustained the partial transformation he took in order to mark you, and you’re seeing it now—the scarlet eyes, the exaggerated markings, the sharp canines, each feature a shade closer to his genuine youkai form. You flip onto your back and then edge back on the bedroll, but he feels you—trying to get away, she can’t—and pushes you back down to hover above. “Did you forget…what I am, girl?”

Human speech feels like a labor—his mouth should be touching you, tasting—marking you. Again. He should be inside you, feeling your soft, sticky cunt bathing him in warmth. Here, listen, you’re a human but it doesn’t matter now. You can take it because you will, you have to. You came so quickly—it must be easier, faster for humans than demons—and Sesshomaru wonders idly how many times you’ll cum before he does, whether you’ll be able to hold yourself together or—

No—no. A stubborn drop of blood wells up in one of the welts on your shoulder and then smears down, leaving a trail of rich red on your skin until Sesshomaru lowers himself down to lick it clean, letting the smell, the taste of you spread over his mouth. He won’t let you. He won’t let you fall apart. You don’t have a choice.

And—whether he realizes it or not—neither does he.

DC Comics Masterlist

Headcanons

Dating Jason Todd (non- yandere)

Yandere Arkham Knight (general)

Yandere Arkham Knight (platonic)

Yandere Barbara Gordon/Batgirl (general)

Yandere Arkhamverse!Bruce Wayne (platonic)

Yandere Bruce Wayne/Batman (romantic)

Yandere Bruce Wayne/The Batfamily w/ Biological!Child!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Bruce Wayne/Batman w/ Criminal!Reader (friendly-platonic)

Yandere Gotham!Bruce Wayne w/ Intern!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Batboys w/Depressed!Reader

Yandere Batfamily w/ BatSis!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Batfamily w/ Male!Writer!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Cassandra Cain/Orphan (general)

Yandere Cassandra Cain w/ Civillian!Reader

Yandere Clark Kent/Superman (general)

Yandere Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne w/ Pregnant!Reader [seperate] (romantic)

Yandere Clark Kent w/ Daughter!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Clark Kent w/ Winged!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Injustice!Clark Kent w/ Fem!Hero!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Clown Family (platonic)

Yandere Damian Wayne/Robin (general)

Yandere Damian Wayne w/ Innocent!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Damian Wayne w/ Kidnapped!Reader

Yandere Injustice!Damian Wayne w/ Zantana’s Nephew!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Poly!Damian Wayne/Poly!Jon Kent [aged up] (romantic)

Yandere Diana Prince/Wonder Woman (general)

Yandere Injustice!Diana Prince

Yandere Dick Grayson/Nightwing (general)

Yandere Garfield Logan/Beast Boy (general)

Yandere Harley Quinn w/ Friend!Reader (friendly-platonic)

Yandere Jason Todd/Red Hood (general)

Yandere Jason Todd w/ Batfam!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Jason Todd w/ Innocent!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Jason Todd w/ Soulmate!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Poly!Jason Todd and Poly!Roy Harper (romantic)

Yandere Joker w/ Horror!Authur!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Joker and Harley Quinn w/ Kid!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Jon Kent/Superboy (platonic)

Yandere Jon Kent w/ Hurt!Reader

Yandere Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow (general)

Yandere Jonathan Crane w/ Horror!Authur!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Jonathan Crane w/ Fem!Assassin!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Kate Kane/Batwoman (general)

Yandere Lois Lane (general)

Yandere Tim Drake/Red Robin (general)

Yandere Tim Drake w/ Barista!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Tim Drake w/ Caring!Reader

Yandere Tim Drake w/ Mutant!Reader

Yandere Sugar Daddy!Tim Drake

Yandere Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (general)

Yandere Oswald Cobblepot/Penguin (general)

Yandere Plastic Man Valentine’s Day (romantic)

Yandere Queen Hippolyta w/ Shipwrecked!Reader

Yandere Titans!Rachel Roth/Raven (romantic)

Yandere Ra’s Al Ghul w/ Reincarnated!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Red Hood and the Outlaws

Yandere Roy Harper (general)

Yandere Roy Harper (nsfw)

Yandere Stephanie Brown (general)

Yandere Superfamily vs Yandere Batfamily (platonic)

Yandere Superfamily w/ Seamster/Seamstress!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Talia Al Ghul (general)

Imagine

Athzagoraphobia [Bruce Wayne/Batman] (platonic)

Collection Day [Pamela Isley/Poison Ivy] (platonic)

Here For You [Jason Todd w/ Depressed!Reader]

Home [Jason Todd/Red Hood] (platonic)

Keeping the Peace [Batman/Joker w/BatKid!Reader] (platonic)

Learning the Ropes [J’onn Jones/Martian Manhunter] (romantic)

Regret [Damian Wayne/Robin w/ Unwanted!Twin!Reader] (platonic)

Sleepless Nights and Brownie Delights [Garfield Logan/Beast Boy w/ Insomniac!Reader] (romantic)

💕Love Letters💕

Yandere Barbara Gordon/Batgirl (platonic)

Yandere Bruce Wayne/Batman (platonic)

Yandere Damian Wayne/Robin (platonic)

Yandere Damian Wayne/Robin w/Unwanted!Twin!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Damian Wayne/Robin (romantic)

Yandere Dick Grayson/Nightwing (romantic)

Yandere Dick Grayson/Nightwing (romantic)

Yandere Dick Grayson/Tim Drake (romantic)

Yandere Harley Quinn #1 (platonic)

Yandere Harley Quinn #2 (platonic)

Yandere Jason Todd/Red Hood (romantic)

Yandere Jason Todd/Red Hood w/ Deceased!Reader (romantic)

Yandere Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow (platonic)

Yandere Kaldur/ Young Justice Team (platonic)

Yandere M’gann M’orzz/Young Justice Team w/ Birthday!Reader (platonic)

Yandere Red X (romantic)

Yandere Roy Harper (romantic)

Yandere Selina Kyle/Catwoman (platonic)

Yandere Talia Al Ghul (platonic)

Reactions

Batfamily Receiving A Poem

Series

Lights Out (prologue/chap. 1)

dont u worry bb irris i also hate google, alexa, siri, all those i Dont Trust em (youre the only one i trust to listen to me in secret)

Irris frantically shuffles in front of a file on the screen, nervously rubbing the back of his neck “W-what? I would never listen to you in secret! Pfft that’s so silly! You’re quite the comedian!”

Suddenly, his eyes flash that mischievous crimson red, and a bemused smile forms on his lips. “Little freak has so many audios of you just breathing. I think the creep gets off to it. Thought you should know”.

“DONT LISTEN TO HIM! HES A SCOUNDREL! A LIAR!”

-Mommabean

Day 20 with Quacks and Wilbur please?

Yandere TNT duo

* Quackity had been a wonderful worker at Las Nevadas Corporation. They were business people and Quackity was one of their better workers. One day, when their group got a new recruit, Quackity decided to pity him and spend some time teaching Wilbur the ropes, seeing as nobody else was doing so. * Wilbur was smart, and ended up catching up to Quackity whenever he was teaching Wilbur, causing Quackity to compliment Wilbur quite a lot and them going out for drinks to celebrate successful trades. * What quackity didn't realize was that Wilbur was taking his advances in the worse way possible, and thinking that Quackity was into the man. * The realization hit when Wilbur pulled Quackity to the side one day and started kissing him. Quackity was shocked, as he explained that he was actually engaged and that Wilbur got it all wrong. * After that, Quackity started to avoid Wilbur as much as possible. The man seemed to be dangerous and Quackity didn't want him to ruin his life for selfish reasons. * But things got a little bit more complicated when Quackity got back home one day and found Wilbur chatting with his fiancees, preparing dinner. * Looks like things are about to get much more dangerous...

Yandere Square guard 💉 prompt

cw: kinda threats?, needles, power dynamics

notes: first time writing squid game, sorry if it’s not the best.

word count 0.6k

“This must be fate” he thought. You’re unconscious body laid before him.

You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Your skin, smooth and lush. He had the pleasure of undressing you all to himself.

Searching your body for your belonging, he pulled out your wallet. The guard looked around him before unfolding it. Swiftly he pulled out your ID, “Y/n L/n..” Such a pleasant name, he repeated it in his head, it seemed to just roll off the tongue. Maybe this game would be more entertaining than he thought.

You proved that to be true when you chose the star shaped honeycomb for dalgona. Shaking his head, he chuckled. He knew he wasn’t going to let you die that easily, he prepared himself to do whatever needed to keep you breathing no matter what. He can’t let you go to waste, not before he’s had a taste for himself.

But you seemed to have a plan of your own. Such a clever darling he had, using a lighter to heat the needle thinking no one was watching, but little did you know, there was someone always watching over you.

“Player 27, pass” the overhead speaker rang out, easing your beating heart. You made it another round.

You were allowed back to the sleeping quarters as it was time for lights out. Tossing and turning in your bed, you couldn’t sleep with a full bladder. Hoping the guards would let you out. You’ve seen other players go to the restroom at night which was reliving.

You looked at circle guard at the door, you asked to be let in, but he didn’t budge. He was barely moving. You banged your hands on the door, begging louder.

A square mask came into your vision. His boots stepped behind of the guard at the door “Let them in.”

With that the door unlocked and opened before you.

Walking out of the stall to the sinks, you rested your hand under the warm water when you saw a flash of pink. You raised you head up to the mirror.

“Huh- What are you doing in here?” looking at the square masked guard in your reflection behind you.

“Don’t tell me you’re some kind of perv.”

His moves frigid as he walked towards you. He had you all alone, not only that but you were talking him directly, insulting him non the less.

A deep chuckle came from his throat, “Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” In his hand, a small syringe. You turned to face him as electric fear ran through your body. How did he know? If you were really in trouble why is he all alone.

Something didn’t feel right, you slowly tried to walk towards the exit never taking your eyes off him. Making a run for it, you turned on your heels to the door. His hand gripped the back of your track shirt.

“Where do you think your going?” You opened your mouth to scream but his hand moved over your lips holding you in place against his chest. You squirmed frantically, you didn’t want to lose like this, you’ve come so far already.

The feeling of your warmth against him, the feeling of your back rubbing on his chest made him shiver in excitement. Every nerve in his body tingled.

“Everyone gets an equal chance in here. You know what they do to players who break that rule, don’t you?”

Gripping your face, he pressed the needle tip against your neck “You don’t want to disqualified for misconduct, now. So I suggest you behave yourself, Y/n.”

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Yandere Jinx headcanon

Arcane series spoiler warning

Jinx is a clinging and two-faced yandere.

After her sister "left" her, Jinx really needs love.

She needs someone to support herself so she stays together.

And when Jinx finds someone who accepts her, she clings to you and won’t let you go.

And because bad (or good I don’t know how much you like her) lucky this person is you.

Jinx's attitude may change quickly.

One moment she will be happy and relaxed around you and a moment later she will cling to you with all her might.

Jinx is really an envious person.

She believes that your friend / family is trying to take you away from her.

It is likely that some of them will die in an "accident".

But "accidents" happen to everyone right?

If you have a family they will definitely accept Jinx's "specialty"

Cough cough and not because Silco sure to blackmail your family.

Penalties are also a double-edged sword.

Jinx can hurt you and she certainly has done so.

But it triggers a strong trauma in her brain and the fear that you will leave her.

Cough cough papa Silco will surely punish you secretly.

Jinx loves you in her own twisted way

"Toxic Desires..." Part 2

...

Warnings/TW’s: Yandere, Implied Kidnapping, Dubcon, $mut, Gender Neutral Reader but hinted AFAB Body, Toxic/Unhealthy Relationships, Power Imbalance, Use of Collar/Leash, Slight Degradation, Forced Eating Out, Strap-Ons, Some Blood (Not yours), Dry Humping, Size Difference, Mirrors

Itto Arataki:

You had your hand clasped on your mouth as you held your weapon nervously in your hands. He was much bigger and most likely more stronger... You really thought he was better than this, but all of your previous opinions on Itto were gone when he broke into your house. Blood traveling behind him.

No longer was he your friend. He was the fucking demon he truly was.

You peered around the corner. Where did he go? You thought as you gripped the sword. As if plucking feathers, Itto easily grabbed the sword away from you and threw it far behind him.

"Get the fuck away from me!" You cried and attempted to run.

Before you even made a step away, fingers dug down into your hips and he turned your body just as quick to face him.

Blood was on his face, but there no wounds. Then, his lips smashed onto yours tasting metallic. His rough hands picked you up and slammed you against the wall.

"You're mine now, got it? Ain't no one else to snatch you away from me, m'kay?" He growled out with a large grin plastered on his face.

He had your hands pinned against the wall, and all you could do was feel his erection hardening against your sex. As much as you squirmed, the more friction you could feel made your body feel more heated.

And Archons did Itto feel it to. His hands left yours as they attached themselves to your hips now, guiding your hips to eagerly meet his in turn.

"Fuck, I'm not even inside you yet and you're making me feel this good already?" He groaned into your ear as he continued rubbing his large erection on you, making you breathless.

You could feel your stomach tightening up as you continued letting him rub against you.

You bit your lip down, trying to prevent hear from hearing your orgasm, but the most you were able to do was let out a shuddering breath as you felt the waves of pleasure ripple through you.

"You already came?" Itto stopped and pulled down his pants. "Its my turn now, baby. I don't want you walkin' tomorrow." His huge hands gripped onto your clothes, ripping them apart..

Baal:

You didn't want to be here in Inazuma no longer. Between losing your vision and being completely naked in front of the "Goddess", you wanted nothing more than to run far away. To swim, if you must, to get away.

Her fingers snapped, pulling you from your throughts. Here, Baal sat on her throne like chair, breast out and legs spread revealing her cunt. She pulled the leash which was connected to your collar, your face against her glistening slit.

"Worship your Archon, and perhaps I'll reward my sweet, mortal pet..." She had a light smirk, her purple eyes filled with nothing but lust.

You glared up at her, spitting at her instead. She didn't look surprised and instead grabbed you by the collar and hoisted you up to meet her face.

"Fucking pathetic. Now, I believe I asked nicely. Worship me, or I fuck you without any preparation. Choose wisely." Baal said as her sharp nails continued to dig in your neck. She let go of your collar and let you drop undignified to the ground. She grabbed your head and faced it to her cunt.

You breathed lightly, smelling her arousal completely and complied, giving a few licks before your tongue entered her. Her hand found its way on your head as she grinded herself on your face.

You wanted this over with as your tied hands from behind your back ached. You nibbled light on her clit and lapped up as much as you could. She could get herself over just by using your face, anyways. Baal's light moans were all you could hear among the squishing noises.

As you continued eating your damned kidnapper out, you could feel her muscles contract, signaling her release. She pressed your face harder, your mouth pressed up completely against her lips almost as if you were kissing it.

She let you go and you pulled away quickly. Your face covered in her juices. You glared, but all she did was laugh lightly and kiss you on your lips. Tasting herself on you.

Behind her, she pulled out a makeshift cock and strapped it around her waist. Your eyes went wide as she coated the strap heavily in lube.

"My pet, let's see how much you can take of me~" She grinned as she brought you upon her lap. The texture and girth of her, as much as you hated to admit it, felt so good...You couldn't stop grinding upon her. Truly like the bitch you were for only Baal.

Albedo:

Albedo to many was calm, cool, collected, but overall, distant. He was handsome as well, but he almost felt inhuman. Much like a beautiful sculpture. So shockingly handsome, but far from human.

If only they knew the truth as Albedo had your naked form sat on the desk, your legs wrapped around his bare torso. What was once suppose to simply aid him in an experiment led to him locking you down here with him.

"I don't say this often, s/o, but you make me feel things I didn't think was possible. The more I look at you, the more I want you to be far away from anyone else but me." Albedo said as his eyes were inches away from yours, his bare collarbone heaving.

Letting in a breath, his finger traced your mark covered neck. Who knew he had so much spent up sexual desire?

Then, he grabbed you up from the desk and placed you open his lap facing forward to the wall. Albedo expertly guided his cock again into your already swollen hole.

"No more...can't take no more." You sobbed lightly as you felt him enter you. A part of you loved the feeling of him deep in you, but you were already pushed past your limits as you squirmed in his lap.

Albedo pressed a kiss to your neck as he grabbed your face and pushed it to see the mirror in front of the both of you.

"Look at how well you take me. Such a perfect right." Your teary ears gazed at the mirror, and your cheeks heated. You felt utterly disgusted with yourself.

His hands grabbed underneath your thighs, bringing you up and down on his cock. Albedo's eyes were glued to the mirror, concentrated on how well he went inside you. Your hands gripped onto the armchairs as he thrusted in and out of you.

What was he going to do with you when he finished? Came into your mind as you paled. The way he obsessively talked about you did not make it sound like he was going to let you go anytime soon.

"Wah!" You choked out as you felt him hit that all too familiar spot.

"Ah, I found it again." Albedo said out loud lowly. "I know every crevice of your body." He spoke as he continued thrusting up into you.

He wet thrusts against yours rang out in the room accompanied by your pitiful moans. You felt drool dribble out the side of your mouth. It was all too much to take in.

Albedo gripped your face and kissed your cheek. "You are my favorite experiment. Don't think for a second that I'm letting you go after this."

...

-Cole

Another | Yan!Albedo x Reader

Warnings: General Dark and Yandere themes, implied stalking.

Summary: Portraits are a very complicated form of painting, especially when they depict an ugly truth.

The reader is female.

Your eyes. He could never paint them right.

So he takes the painting, carefully placing it next to their equally unsuccessful predecessors as he grabs a new canvas.

Fog hangs over the surface of the streets as Albedo takes one last look at his window. He has gone back to staying up all night. At that time, a limbo in which the ghosts disappeared at first light and the living had not yet awakened from their dreams, the only ones who stayed awake were the tormented. It was an unrelenting but silent truth that floated over him like a warning.

He walks away from the window, dragging the weight of his reflections with him like an invisible chain that bounds his emotions inside a cage from which he cannot escape. And which no one could ever access.

He starts again.

You are filled with details, and he dislikes the mistakes produced by his failed attempts to force memory beyond human capability to remember every last one of them.

He likes to play with the lights and shadows of his own room as he brushes on top of the canvas. He likes to paint you as if you were there, right in front of him.

Your skin is easy, he reasons, it bears traces of where it has been, of each time the sun has kissed it and the natural passage of time. It is soft, just like velvet, he knows it very well. Your hand has brushed his several times before, and he has obsessively fixed on it each time. So much so, that a ghostly sensation of your touch permeates his skin whenever he finds himself thinking of you.

He places beautiful details on your clothing, in an impulse of artistic liberty if you will. Surely, there is no way you could afford embroidered fabric for your shirt, but since you seem to like flowers so much, he draws little cotton daisies along the hems.

Painting the mouth is slightly trickier than that. Your smile is unassuming, shy. One stroke too wide and it would be nothing but a ridiculous caricature of you. The woman in the painting has her lips parted and relaxed as if she was about to talk to him. He uses circular motions to paint them plump, shiny and colored like a tempting fresh fruit.

But your eyes... He could spend hours trying to figure out how to paint them.

The color hardly supposes any challenge, he has it ingrained in his mind how it changes depending on the lighting. He has no problem remembering how beautiful the shape is, and the slight curvature that forms when you smile.

However, no matter how close they are to reality, he is not satisfied. You see, the problem is not accuracy.

They are true to your own, up to their last detail.

The woman in the painting observes him with callousness, as do all her resentful sisters that judge their shared creator from their forgotten place in the ground. He has tried, and failed, to convince his own memory to depict them without the tints of fear and mistrust that he's seen in your gaze and that has replaced every other expression for some time now.

He lowers the brush and stares back at the woman in front of him, trying to analyze what went wrong this time. Unable to find a way to fix her, he takes the painting down and looks for another canvas.

He could paint your eyes with accuracy.

But he could never paint them right.