Yandere Toga VS Yandere Villain Deku For Hero Reader

Yandere Fae - Temptation

he just wants to know your name, that’s all. he promises.

tw: yandere themes, possessive behaviour, reader is lowkey okay with it, implied murder, unhealthy relationships, stockholm syndrome (?)

“Come now, darling,” he croons, so very sweetly, “it’s just a name. I promise I won’t tell.”

He leans his cheek against your arm, gazing up pleadingly. You sigh as you feel your resolve waver. He— the fae— Lucian, he says his name is but you don’t know if he’s telling the truth.

Fae can’t lie, you’d been told as a child. The people of your town nary spoke of the faekind, save in warning tales. They’d told of weaknesses, of iron and salt. Lies. Falsehoods born from ignorance. Fae could lie, could weave truths of honeyed poison sweeter than any ambrosia. One thing you did know was not to tell one your name. Your grandmother had told you. She was the same woman who warned you of the dangers, who thwarted the ignorant claims of the fellow villagers

“Please.” Lucian all but whines. You can’t help but giggle in amusement. For such a powerful creature, he’s acting as though he were a puppy. “It’s just a name.”

But it’s not just a name. Name’s are powerful. They hold history, stories, one’s very being. So, you’ll refuse him once more. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Lucian tilts his head. The slightest hint of venom tinges his tone. His slit pupils are dilated double their size, like a predator catching sight of its prey. “Tell me your name.”

Lucian’s been persistent in his efforts. Ever since you moved into a cottage deep within the forest. Unable to bear the repetitive, noisy life of your village, you left. He’s been following you ever since you moved in. He’s bound, tethered to the place. To the land. Through magical means you don’t understand. Lucian adores pestering you with questions, and inane conversation, that you’ve grown to enjoy. But above all else, he seems determined to get your name. Not that you plan to give it to him.

He makes a frustrated noise, a pout forming on his lips. “You’re so stubborn.” Lucian complains. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone else, I swear.”

Liar, you think fondly, It’s cute, really, the effort he puts in.

Biting your lip, you briefly contemplate your sanity. Should others find themselves in this situation they wouldn’t be as calm. They’d panic. You should panic. You should probably run for the hills. For it’s not his status as a fae that forebodes danger. He’s— Lucian is complex.

The good-natured mask he wears is just that. A mask. One he wears for you. Your relationship with Lucian is multilayered. Surface level, it is a give and take. What he gives and what you take remains unclear. Surface level, you’re companions. But that implies trust. You don’t trust him. You’re smart enough not too.

“I’m heading out to town.” You tell him. “To the market.”

Lucian huffs. He storms off like a petulant child, intelligibly whining and a pout on his face. You roll your eyes. Gathering a basket and pulling on a cloak, you step out of the cottage. The way to town isn’t marked by a path. You memorize trees and large stones. Landmarks. You trek through the woodlands, thoughts of Lucian occupying your mind.

You hold a certain fondness for him. For the little game you two indulge in. It’s an odd affection, a tired, old one. He makes you cook for him, bemoaning your atrocious mortal cuisine as he eats all of it. He follows you around the cottage with seemingly no concept of personal space. He lingers around you, as if he were a ghost and you his haunt. He entertains you. With tall-tales spun from silk. He offers you gifts in the form of odd trinkets, flowers, nuts, sometimes gems.

Lucian perplexes you. Because despite the casualness of your relationship, you’d be a fool to not be aware of the power imbalance in between the two of you. There’s something dark, dangerous. An ancient, primal magic tethering him to the cottage. To you.

You shake off your wonderings as you reach a clearing. Down, to the left is a quaint little town. It’s sparsely populated, everyone knows everyone, at least everyone who inhabits the area. Locals are wary of travellers, yet they are not so foolish to deny potential patrons business. Their market, tavern, and inn are what’s to be expected of a place such as this. It’s sufficient for your needs, though. Far be it for you to complain.

You stop by the market, examining items being sold by the vendors. As you take an apple in hand, trying to determine whether the produce is worth it’s price, a hand reaches by you. Curiously, you sneak a glance to the person it belongs to.

You’re met with the appearance of a rugged, rogue. Weary from his travels, if you’d have to guess. He gives you half-grin half-smirk that makes your insides flutter. Normally, you’d offer him a flirtatious smile. Perhaps he’d ask to take you out for the night, to the tavern. You’d drink sweet mead and suggest stopping at an inn for the night. Spend it together. Alas, the sanctity of your normal ended upon your meeting with Lucian.

“‘Scuse me, love,” he says, voice a rough timbre. It’s so different than Lucian’s smooth, honeyed lilt. You like it. “You ain’t from ‘round here, eh?”

You nimbly step aside, appreciating the view. You should leave, you know the consequences if you stay. “No.” You tell him. “I live a little ways away.”

He smiles at that. A small little grin that’s almost a smirk. What a dangerous thing, he is. He starts chatting you up. You know what he wants from you and you’re quite certain he knows what he wants from you. You should be beyond such inhibitions— but it’s been so very long since you’d indulged in a bit of fun. So you let him take you back to his inn, slip something in his beer so when he’s done and your sated, he’ll slip right off. The moment he does, you slink away, trekking through the woods back home. Most people wouldn’t, scared of the dangers lurking. But the forest knows that the true danger resides within your home, guaranteeing your safety.

The moment you make it back, Lucian appears, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Entertaining night?”

His tone is frigid and cold, almost the same as his usual indifference. But you know him better than that. “Very.” You hum. “And yet, I’m here with you.”

“Yet you’re here with me.” He parrots. The shift in his demeanour is almost imperceptible, a change so subtle it appears meaningless. You watch as he slinks away, the satisfaction of his tone lingering throughout your mind. The affirmation, to both him and you, that you were here. That you came crawling back to him. That the pull, the tether he held on your being remained tight as ever.

That you were—

Not his. You were still your own being. You let out a shaky sigh and head up to bed. You’ve had too much to drink, you tell yourself. The next morn, when you awaken, groggily blinking, something immediately feels off. After living like this— after living with him— for so long, you’ve come to understand to trust your intuition while ignoring the warning bells ringing in your head.

You head down the stairs. Your body is heavy from your hang over. It dulls your senses. You know you need to be on guard, lest Lucian have his way. Speak of the devil, you muse, as he leans on the kitchen island smugly. “Rough night?”

“Don’t.” You warn, grabbing a pot and filling it with water to boil. Lician laughs. His laughter sharp and smooth. “Forgive me, lovely.” He croons. “I do not intend to rouse that temper of yours.”

You eye him suspiciously. Of course, you’re always suspicious in regards to him, but this behaviour is odd. Odder than usual. He usually demands you cook for him, asks for your name, then huffs when you rebuff him. It’s routine and Lucian isn’t one for breaking routine. You rake over his handsome, pointed features. He sports an usual grin. Self-satisfied and almost victorious. Then, you spot a crimson splatter along the underside of his throat.

“Is there something wrong, lovely?” He inquires, tilting his head almost as if to show you the blood stained on his neck.

Don’t give in. Don’t pay attention to it. You learned early on giving in only worsens his behaviour. “No.” You answer firmly. You avoid his question, evasive and ignorant. Your ignorance serves as a shield. “I ought to make something, barely ate yesterday.”

Lucian’s eyes flicker with both annoyance and pleasure. “Make me some too.” He orders, before sauntering off.

It sends a shiver down your spine, your compliance. Barely able to deny him, yet unable to give into him. It irks him. It also pleases him. It’s a game between the two of you. One neither of you can quit. You tow the line each time, out of selfishness. The desire to be free. To be as it was. It ends in his possessive fits, with blood shed, staining your hands crimson. Yet you continue. His attention is intoxicating. As addicting as mead. It drives you mad, tantalizes you, taunts you. But you don’t give in fully. Can’t. At least, not yet.

“Come now, lovely. I know you wish to fall into temptation with me.”

Hi ho nixo! [ignore that if its weird]

Anyway, Hru? I'm kinda caught up w/ school so I couldn't really reread your content aha,

I hope ur doing good and well, see ya next time!

-《◇》 Diana

Thanks for checking in, and I might just have people always great me with hi ho nixo now. And same goes for me, my first year of University and everything’s been so stressful, so to all my followers wondering where the hell I’ve been, well that’s your answer.

Anyways, since I’m using this as a little announcement post as well, I will be releasing more content and opening requests soon, I promise. Thank you all for your continual support and patience!

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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content warnings: yandere themes/behaviours, possessiveness, forced companionship, threatened self harm (not reader), reader can be read as afab or amab

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆:

His royal highness, your sworn liege. You swore an oath, forever binding yourself and your service to him. Knights, of course, he has a plenty. But you? You’re different. Special. He sits above all upon his throne. The burden of his crown is a heavy toll. And unlike the other knights he has in his command, you don’t simply act to obey.

You’re his most trusted advisor alongside being his most loyal soldier. You act to soothe his woes and offer insight. You traverse not just his kingdom but many others on your journey, enabling you to provide a different and rather refreshing perspective. Knights are made to uphold values of honour, loyalty, and nobility but the King has never met one quite as earnest as you.

He remembers the day you were knighted. How you knelt before him and pleaded your eternal loyalty. It’s a fond memory, one he replays whenever your admirers fawn over you or when you go on quests. It acts as a balm to soothe the possessive jealousy that rears its head. And how he loathes your seemingly never ending desire to go on quests. Certainly, before you endeared yourself to him, he hadn’t cared. Attain glory, uphold your honour. It is what knights are meant to do.

Alas, now, he cannot help but detest when you leave. His attempts at making you stay only delay it slightly longer. His orders for your aid, for your company all interrupted by the endless demands for your talents. It drives him mad. You’ve won more than enough glory. You’ve proven your honour and how noble you are countless times.

Stay with him, he’ll grant you every knight’s dream. A castle, large and built with grandeur. And what better castle than his palace? He’ll construct an entire wing, or perhaps an entirely new palace for you. He’ll shower you in all the gold and jewels you could ever want and more. He’ll throw the grandest of feasts and balls in celebration. Whatever your heart desires.

Or perhaps he’ll lock you away in a tower as all mad kings tend to do. Keep his knight all to himself, dressed in the finest silks and draped in exuberant jewelry. Oh, but you’d hate him wouldn’t you? Eyes once filled with shining loyalty showing nothing but contempt and bringing him despair. He couldn’t take it. Yet, he’s slowly and surely waning. Look at what you’ve done to him. Your mighty king beholden to your wishes.

He’s desperate, hungry, yearning for you. His knight, his soldier, his advisor, his confidant. His. Heed his commands, won’t you? For even the kindest rulers committed the worst atrocities when driven mad, and you’ve certainly ignited his descent.

“𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒:

The loveliest damsel across the lands, her highness, the princess. Locked away in a tower by an evil wizard, waiting to be saved by you. Her gallant knight. Do you know how long she’s awaited your arrival? It’s to be expected, of course. Princesses being kidnapped by evil wizards, dragons and other malevolent entities are a common occurrence. As is a knight saving them. It’s destiny.

Certainly other knights have tried before. But all perished at the hands of the wizard who abducted her when she was but a girl and locked her away. She was beginning to think it was hopeless until you came along. Silly her, she knows how it goes. Damsels are saved by honourable knights, then, they live happily ever after. Her entire life she has waited to be saved by you. And now that you have, you’ll wed her of course!

Except you don’t. You refuse to, politely declining her advances. She doesn’t understand. Do you not know how these stories are meant to end? She’s supposed to be your reward, your prize for your heroic deeds. But then, you tell her she’s not a reward, eyes shining earnestly. And oh, even that doesn’t make her fall harder.

No one has ever afforded her autonomy before, she’s always been an object, a prize. It’s like a switch is turned. Suddenly, it’s not a duty, but a desire. She needs you to be by her side. You’re the only person who sees her for who she is.

The princess grows obsessive. She wants to be with you and will do anything to achieve it. Thus, she schemes. She fakes kidnappings and attempted assassinations, all conveniently timed and placed so you’ll be the one to save her. Yes, it may be a tad suspicious but you wouldn’t question her. She’s a hapless damsel and you’re a noble knight, after all.

Of course, she’s not the only damsel you’ve ever saved. She isn’t the first either. But the princess is determined to be the last. Whatever true dangers that require your skills will be shoved to the side when she grows more dramatic with her plots to gain your attention. You must see she’s in need of you. Always in danger. She needs you by her side to protect her.

And if you still refuse to be with her? The princess will have no other option than to take the most drastic measures. You’ll find her up at the edge of the top of the castle’s towers. Dagger poised above her chest, plump eyelashes wet with tears, and a wobbly bottom lip. But in her eyes, all you can see is the madness only lovesick lass could have. She can’t live without you. Thus, you must choose: to be with her or to have the crushing guilt of her death haunt for eternity. Either way, you will hers. Whether through life or death.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃:

The fiercest creature known to man, the dragon lord is your natural enemy. He is able to shift from dragon to man in a matter of seconds. Not that it matters, of course. For all knights will fall to his prowess. Then, you come along. At first, the dragon lord dismisses you as yet another fool attempting to slay him. He sighs, bored. Stupid mortals and their useless prides. Did they not understand they would never be able to win? He is the best of both worlds, the mightiest of dragons and men.

Yet, you don’t. You don’t try to slay him. You don’t try to steal his treasures. You reason with him. Your sword is a powerful tool, but you’re a reputed charmer for a reasons. Your words are crafted from a silver tongue. There isn’t a hint of the usual arrogance that men of your station usually hold. This intrigues him. Genuineness is something he hasn’t encountered for centuries. Especially not from a mortal. So, he entertains you. He leaves the village he’s terrorizing, not because he’s swayed by your words, more so you amused him. Yes, that’s it. He returns to his cove of golden treasures, not anticipating to waste a single moment thinking back on you.

Unfortunately for the dragon lord, you plague his mind. He’s an old creature, far older than even your kingdom. And he’s been so very bored for so very long. It leads to him shifting into his human form to gain more information. Only to sate his curiosity, though. Certainly not for any other reason.

His interest is once again peaked when he hears tales of your immense talent. You were holding back against him, weren’t you? Oh, how vexing you are. A simple knight, daring to try and swindle the dragon lord. And how vexing it is for him to have fallen for your coy act. It should irritate him far more than it does. But he’s lacked true companionship for so long. Dragons are a dying species and mortals are unworthy. Well, except for you.

Yes, you’d make a suitable companion. The dragon lord decides that you are his new companion and sets off to find you. Shifting back into his dragon form, he scours the land for you. Upon recognizing your scent, the dragon lord swoops down and nabs your unsuspecting form. You try and protests but he’s far too strong and large for you to fight off. He flies you back to his trove of treasures. The dragon lord sets you amongst his precious possessions, at the center, of course. For you are the most precious of all.

You’re smart, aware you cannot escape him with strength. So you try with wit. You bide time, keep him entertained and try to slip out. It’s a process you repeat multiple times, with the dragon lord catching you each time. He’s never cross with you, if anything, he’s amused. You truly are entertaining. The dragon lord will never take your attempts seriously. You’re a game to him. You may be his companion, but you’re more akin to a bird in a cage than an equal. You’re still his possession, after all. He’s a dragon lord, possessive instincts demanding he hoards you away from everything and keep you all to himself.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇:

The mistress of the black arts, the witch doesn’t expect to fall for someone such as yourself. She doesn’t expect to fall for anyone at all. Witches are, by nature, deceitful. They are beautiful and cruel. They engage in the dark arts. However, they are not all pure evil. Some have a modicum of compassion in their hearts. And you seem to draw out hers. Perhaps it’s because she’s known you since childhood. Before you were a glorious knight and she an infamous witch, you two were just children with seemingly impossible dreams and the weight of the world on your shoulders. But time changes things, it’s made what should be enemies out of you by the nature of your positions. Yet she cannot bring herself to hate you.

Not when you are truly noble, as knights are supposed to be. She’s encountered many a proclaimed knight in her time. All eager to vanquish her. Yet they all fail. And they all contribute to her disdain towards the blinded citizens of kingdom and the selfish aristocracy. What are knights but dogs to the nobility and monsters to the innocents? She’s seen knights and paladins set villages ablaze, slaughter innocents in the name of either their king or their whims. All knights disgust her. All except you, of course.

You’re her dreamer. You’re her innocence. You’re still the same person who believed in fairytales and noble values because you uphold them. That’s why you’re so beloved. By everyone, but most of all, her. You’ve never turned on her. You understand her nature as not evil. You even go as far as to bring her potion ingredients. She’s your dearest companion. The witch relishes in the thrall she has over you. In the thrall you have over her. You two, bound by mutual past, shall be intertwined in the future.

The witch strives to protect you. She patches up every wound you receive, regardless of how small, with her potion brews. She enchants a charm to ensure your safety— and if it happens to allow her to watch over her at all times, then it’s only because she wishes to keep you safe. And perhaps she may curse her rivals for your affection, so what? A light hex never hurt anyone. She’s indefinitely more relaxed than your other options, though. Witches, while some join covens, prefer independence. She would never want to stifle you.

So, the witch does what she does best. She casts curses and creates enchantments to keep you out of harms way. You may embark on your quests, you may indulge in your whims, but she is certain you will always return to her. And if you don’t? Well, she is a master of the dark arts. She can easily summon you and tether you to her. But she won’t. Probably.

Overall, the witch is concerned about your safety. She may guard you from a distance, but she guards you viciously. You are the only connection to her past, you are the only one who understands her. She cannot bear to lose you to anyone or anything.

“𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍:

A rival, a friend, an equal. This is what they are to you. The paladin, once a squire alongside you, now a sworn knight of the Holy Order. How your paths have differed. Yet, in some ways, you remain the same. Namely, the competition between you. The paladin is always one step behind, has been since your days as a squire. You best them at spars, at races both on horse and foot, in accolades as well. They’re a paladin, and yet, you receive more recognition than them. It drives them mad. You drive them mad.

For one, they should be above the petty jealousy you stir. They should be satisfied with their status. But they are not. They always compare themself to you. They want so desperately to share the light you unwittingly bask in. Alas, none of it is for them. They resent you, they loathe you. Even worse, they respect you. Beyond your skill, you’re the paradigm of a true knight. You’re noble and good-hearted in a cruel world. You’re pure in a way no one else is. It inspires nothing but admiration. The paladin has admired you since your shared youth, they even tried to convince you to take up the Holy Vows

They’ve yet to succeed, but they won’t stop trying. After all, you’re all they’ve been chasing after. You’re the peak they seek. They train relentlessly to improve. Not to become your equal, but to become your better. They want to surpass you, to prove themselves worthy. They want you to look at them the way they’ve looked at you. The paladin wants to be the center of your world.

They work tirelessly. And yet, you always seem to far away. Their obsession grows deeper, more dangerous. The more attention you gain, the more desperate they become. How can the paladin reach you if you’re so far away? It calls for more drastic measures. Perhaps sabotaging your reputation, or ruining your quests. Ensuring you have no one to turn to beside them. Maybe even a maiming is in order, something to incapacitate you and keep you in the paladin’s grasp.

Don’t worry. They’ll be worthy someday. Until then, the paladin will watch from afar, stewing with jealousy and yearning. Be careful though. One wrong move could have the paladin turning towards the more unsavoury means of attaining you. They’d be remiss to, of course, but they cannot let you slip from their hold.

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.”

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a/n: I’m back, from a very long hiatus. Special thanks to @forbidden-sunlight for motivating me to get back into writing :)

more yandere fae + new works coming soon

parental yandere wizard becoming attached to (unwilling/unknowing) apprentice reader and deciding to keep them as their little baby <3

I hope this is good!!

TW: Kidnapping, parental yandere, descriptions of blood/violence, infantilization

...

You've always liked exploring the forest, it was different to most forests, almost straight out of a storybook. The trees were twisted with age, the flowers vibrantly bright and always in bloom no matter the time of year.

The air felt alive here. Magical. It felt more like home than your actual home.

Of course, there were some dangerous creatures that lurked the forest's depths, but you'd never ventured far enough to come across one before.

It seems that your biggest fear should've always been your own kind; humans. You always thought your demise would come from a hungry wolf or poisonous plants, but in reality?

It was a hunter's trap that crunched down on your ankle while you were daydreaming. A bear trap, the metal jaws clamping shut, crushing your bones and drawing blood.

The scream that rips itself out of your throat is loud enough to scare birds out of the surrounding trees.

Pain shoots up your leg, hot and cold at once, making it throb with each frantic heartbeat. You grip the jaws of the trap, your fingers scrabbling against the rusted iron until they're raw, trying to pry them open.

You realize with horror no one will find you out here.

Well, that's what you think, when suddenly the sound of quick footsteps and leaves crunching underfoot reach your ears. The steps slow, stop, and then...

"Oh my goodness!" a voice exclaims with dismay. Despite the panicked tone, their voice sounds soft and gentle.

You lift your head and are met with a pair of worried green eyes, wide behind thin spectacles. Their frame isn't too much taller than your own, and they have messy hair and freckles.

Even though their appearance is somewhat youthful, you can tell they're somewhere in their early forties.

"It's alright," they say, crouching next to you. "It'll all be alright, okay, sweetheart?"

Their voice is still soft, almost like someone talking to a frightened child. And, in this situation, you probably look like a frightened child, curled in on yourself and whimpering from the pain shooting up your ankle.

The stranger touches the metal gently and mutters something beneath their breath; the trap pops open so quickly that you squeak. The relief on your ankle is immediate, until you try to move it and another pained sob tumbles out of you.

You glance up at your savior who has removed their cloak, bunching it up in their hands.

"Just hold still, dearest. I know it hurts," they murmur softly, reaching forward to wrap it around your foot with great care, supporting your ankle the best they can. They give you a wobbly smile. "I'm going to take you home, okay? So I can help fix you right up."

Without their cloak, you notice they're covered in faded scars and marks.

Before you can open your mouth to ask, however, you're suddenly lifted into their arms with great strength, as if you weighed nothing more than a small toddler.

It startles you enough that you cling onto the front of their blouse.

"Careful, careful," they coo, giving you another quick smile before setting off, keeping your body pressed against theirs. You bury your face in the fabric of their shirt without thinking, sniffling quietly, still trying to ignore the pain radiating up your leg. "I'm so lucky to have found you... it's like my prayers have been answered! Maybe I am blessed, after all..."

They sound weirdly happy about this all, but you're in too much pain to really care.

And so you relax against your savior and allow yourself to drift off into a restless slumber.

...

When you wake up, you find yourself lying comfortably on a soft bed with warm blankets wrapped around you.

Your ankle isn't throbbing anymore; instead, you feel nothing more than a slight ache, now. You shift around until you're propped up on your elbows and can see your bandaged ankle resting atop a pillow.

You notice you've been changed into pastel pajamas which feel soft and clean against your skin.

Footsteps reach your ears, and you lift your head to watch as a stranger steps through the doorway, wearing that familiar kind smile you remember.

It was the same one they wore while they were scooping you up in their arms...

They hold two steaming mugs, each a dark red color. You recognize them as the person who saved you from that hunter's trap, so you allow yourself to relax back against the pillows again.

When you had first caught sight of them, you weren't sure whether or not they'd planned to bring you harm, but they seemed too sweet to mean any.

"I made you some hot chocolate," they say, walking towards the bed and setting the mug down beside you. They sit down in a chair situated next to the bedside with their own hot chocolate, blowing gently on the steam. "No one ever ventures out here. Were you lost?"

"N-No," you say, hating the way your voice quivers slightly. You clear your throat and reach for your own cup. "I live in the village closest to the forest. I... I was exploring when I stumbled across a bear trap. I wasn't looking where I was going."

Their gaze becomes sharper, but not to you specifically. "Ah. Those damn hunters." Then, they frown. "Sorry for my language."

You huff a laugh. "'Damn'? I've said far worse, I'd hardly call that a curse word." At the look they send you, you quickly say, "Maybe I look younger than I actually am. I'm not a kid."

Their smile returns. "Oh, love. If that's what you want to tell yourself."

You frown at their cryptic statement, staring at them suspiciously over the rim of your cup. You take a tentative sip, the drink sweet and creamy on your tongue, much better than the ones from the market.

"Well, whatever. I still appreciate your help. I would've bled to death out there without you. I had no idea there was anyone living out here." You blink slowly at them and continue, "So, um... what's your name?"

They grin. "Solaris, and I'm glad I could be of assistance. After all, I couldn't just leave you out there, crying like that. Positively shattered my heart!" They sigh dramatically, clutching at their chest. "Now, you have to heal. I already applied medicine to your ankle. All you need now is rest, sunshine."

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Sorry, but... how long will it take to heal? I have somewhere to be, so..."

Solaris glances over at you with an arched brow. Their lips are pressed in a thin line, though it doesn't seem as if they're mad or upset. "Well..." They pause to contemplate on something. "I'll be honest with you. I've been lonely. For so long I've craved not only an apprentice of my own, but my own baby, as well. Just before you showed up, I was pleading to whatever Gods above to grant me this wish. And then..." Solaris smiles. "There you were! Like an angel fallen from the sky. Like my very own angel."

You're quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly at them. "...And that means what, exactly?"

"It means... I'll keep you."

You let out a weak chuckle. "Yeah, okay, funny joke..."

"Oh, I'm not joking," they interrupt, turning to meet your stare. They don't hold that usual soft smile anymore. Instead, their expression has hardened, their lips now pursed in a thin line.

You swallow thickly at the sudden change, gripping your cup tighter than before. "But I can't stay. I have family and friends that will be worried about me."

"They have each other, don't they? Meanwhile I have no one..." Once again, they sigh dramatically. This time it makes you flinch. "All I have is my research and magic, and that gets painfully lonely."

"M-Magic?" you repeat, startled.

"Yes. An experienced one, in fact. Very skilled with potions and spells. Why do you think your wounds healed so quickly?" Their mouth twitches into a faint smirk. "Now I suppose you understand why trying to run would be useless. Besides, Mama just wants their precious baby safe and healthy..."

Your nose scrunches. Mama...?

"Um... sorry, but... no, thanks." You stumble out of bed, and are shocked to feel only a mild ache in your leg, the wound no longer bleeding, the skin cleanly stitched together. You limp towards the door as quickly as you can, but Solaris snaps their fingers and the pain is back, but five times worse than before. You fall against the floor with a cry.

"Now why did you make me do that?" Solaris shakes their head.

"No!" you snap. "You're insane. You aren't my mom!"

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to a more masculine term—"

"How does 'asshole' sound?" you suggest dryly, using the nearby dresser to haul yourself onto your feet. The wood feels smooth against your clammy palms.

They hum lowly. "I'd like an apology, please. You're being a brat, and you haven't even spent a full day here yet." You only glare, which gets another long sigh out of them. "Fine. I suppose we'll do this the hard way."

The pain increases tenfold, and you nearly collapse again with a choked sob. Suddenly, the weight on your legs feels unbearable; even the task of breathing seems painful, each breath sending another sharp ache down your spine. A whimper escapes you.

You hate the tears stinging at your eyes, but the hurt is so bad that it takes every ounce of concentration not to curl up and scream.

"Apologize, sweetheart," Solaris coaxes softly. "No reason to act like such a stubborn brat. I don't like doing this to you, you're forcing my hand."

A tremble racks through your body as you sink down to your knees. "I'm sorry," you gasp, unable to bear it any longer. "Please, I'm sorry—stop!"

Finally, it ceases. The throbbing dulls to a light pressure once again.

With it, the tension drains from your muscles, and you slump backwards against the dresser.

You hug your knees to your chest and shiver when Solaris reaches forward to pull you onto their lap, smoothing down the locks of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead.

"See?" they whisper, pressing their lips against your temple. "If you'd only listened to mama like a good child... but I forgive you, my love. I always will. Now let's get you back in bed—it looks like you're going to sleep next to Mama tonight."

They lift you into their arms and tuck you beneath the covers, planting another kiss on top of your forehead. It seems they won't be leaving; the bed dips underneath their weight while they snuggle up beside you, humming a quiet tune underneath their breath.

You freeze momentarily before relaxing, letting them draw patterns along your arm, up and down and up again, the motions soothing enough that you soon find yourself slipping into slumber.

"There we go," Solaris says. "That's much better, hm? Goodnight, baby."

...

The next morning greets you with the smell of something good. Your stomach rumbles quietly from underneath the blankets.

You yawn, sitting up straighter in bed, wincing slightly at the stiffness in your leg. Although your wounds had closed, your leg was still wrapped in bandages to help ease the soreness away. You swing your legs off of the mattress and lower them down onto the cool wooden flooring below.

As soon as you're able to stand steadily, you walk out of your bedroom and wander until you stumble across the kitchen; you see Solaris bustling around the room, grabbing silverware and plates for your breakfast.

They turn and beam, seeing you standing awkwardly by the entrance.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Solaris says cheerfully. "Did Mama's little star sleep well?"

Star? That's a new one...

You merely hum instead, moving to sit in the nearest chair available. In front of you is a plate of pancakes already.

You glance back up to look at Solaris, who's watching you carefully. Only when they give you a smile and gesture for you to start eating do you grab your fork and dig in, only because you're starving. You take large gulps of water too.

"Slow down, slow down, sweetie! You'll get sick!" Solaris admonishes. Their brows furrow. "My goodness, when was the last time you had a proper meal?"

You ignore the question, continuing to scarf down your food and avoiding their eyes.

You can see them staring you down out of your peripherals.

It isn't long until you finish up your plate and you scoot out of the chair, ready to make a break for your room—until you're caught by a firm hand grasping the collar of your shirt.

The back of your throat makes an embarrassing noise, which draws a warm chuckle from Solaris's end. Your ears grow hot. Stupid.

"Ah, ah, ah! Don't be naughty," they chide, wagging a finger in front of your face. "Mama's gotta re-bandage your injury."

You scowl at them but follow nonetheless. Better to remain obedient for now.

They lead you through a narrow hall and open a pair of wide, heavy oak doors. Inside lies a study filled to the brim with books, all different sizes and colors, organized neatly on tall bookshelves lining the wall.

A round mahogany table sits at the center of the room, littered with strange gadgets and bubbling potions.

"This is where I study," Solaris explains. They motion over to a couch. "Why don't you lie down right here for Mama, sweetie? It won't take very long. Promise."

Once again, you oblige, albeit reluctantly. You plop down on the soft cushions and place both of your legs across them.

Solaris bends down to inspect the stitches before gingerly peeling the old wrappings off, tossing the bandages away into the trash bin. You peer down to examine the wounds yourself.

They're clean-cut and sewn together carefully. Almost professionally, you note.

"Will they leave scars?" you ask.

Solaris blinks. "Most likely. I've got magic, but that doesn't mean it's unlimited." They seem almost apologetic as they gently press around the irritated skin. "The wounds should stay sealed up so long as you don't irritate them."

After adding some more ointment, they wrap your ankle up anew. Next they check on your hands, brushing feather-light touches against the raw skin.

"I can get rid of these scrapes with a spell. Will that be okay, sweet pea?"

"It's fine, I guess," you say, pulling a face. "Won't hurt, will it?"

"Not at all. Just a small tickle, is all." Before you can add anything else, Solaris waves a hand over your palms, muttering a chant beneath their breath—and within seconds, your hands begin to tingle.

The sensation lasts barely half a minute and fades as quick as it appeared. You wiggle your fingers and gawk at how smooth and free of blemishes your skin has become.

"How did you become a wizard?" you ask them curiously.

"Hm..." They scratch their chin, clearly thinking their answer over. "Well, I grew up studying the craft ever since I was a tiny thing. My father practiced dark magic and my mother was a white witch. After their passing, I wanted to learn everything I could about what they studied and became obsessed with spells and research... But that was many, many years ago."

"Years ago?" you echo. "How old are you? You look fairly young."

Solaris lets out a laugh, patting the top of your head in fondness. "Flatterer! You sure know how to win people's hearts." They wipe imaginary sweat off their brow before answering, "Magic has slowed my aging down quite a bit. I'm actually around a hundred."

"Oh," is all you manage to utter, unable to conjure up another response. A part of you isn't entirely surprised by the fact, seeing how far advanced their abilities are.

Before either of you can speak again, Solaris cups both of your cheeks. "And you can age slower too. With me, here! Isn't that wonderful? I could even make you younger than what you are now, if you'd like. Not that it'd matter either way, since you're my baby, regardless."

You suppress the shiver trying to run down your spine. "The only thing I'd ever want from you is to take me home."

Your reply makes them frown deeply. "Now why would I want to do that? This is your new home, right here with me. And when you adjust, we can decorate your room however you want!"

"I don't want a new room," you protest. "I don't want a new home. And I especially don't want a new parent."

"You may not think so now," they reply. "But you'll warm up to it soon enough. I have faith in you, buttercup. You'll see."

The words send dread shooting down your spine.

...

After breakfast, Solaris gives you the grand tour.

"There isn't much to see, really," they admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck. "My study is full of chemicals, so you can't be allowed in there alone. Even when you do agree to be my apprentice."

You look out the nearby window, and realize how high up you are in the stone tower.

Below you, the village you used to live in is visible beyond the forest; it looks like miniature buildings now, the villagers themselves nothing more than ants milling about.

"This used to be a watch tower. Hundreds of years old, mind you. I renovated it myself with a little magic and a lot of elbow grease. You should've seen the place beforehand—it was practically dilapidated!" Their cheerful chatter trails off after that, allowing you to gaze out the window once more. Then they say, in a gentler tone, "Is your old home somewhere down there? That must've been a long walk to get so deep into the woods."

"Mhm," you murmur, tracing circles against the dusty glass with your fingertips.

"Well, I think that's just about everything." Solaris pauses. "We can discuss an apprenticeship later. For now, why don't you read a book from the library downstairs? Any one you wish." When you frown, they lean forward to plant a kiss on top of your forehead. "Or maybe you'd prefer being rocked and read to in Mama's arms?"

"No," you grit out between clenched teeth. You huff and cross your arms over your chest petulantly.

They smile. "I figured. Go on, then."

You move to exit the room.

...

Hours pass, and you're painfully bored.

There wasn't anything interesting in the library, and you're too anxious about touching anything in the study. Your only form of entertainment at the moment are the birds tweeting outside, along with the clouds floating by lazily overhead.

It would almost be peaceful if you weren't stuck here against your will. If you could only escape—then, you wouldn't have to deal with Solaris's coddling any longer.

Thinking about it, your face scrunches up.

You had been on the receiving end of plenty of hugs today, as well as kisses and a good portion of baby talk.

Each encounter left a sour taste lingering on the back of your tongue.

You can't take this any longer. You rip off both of the long curtains to the side of the window, and tie them together tightly, braiding them into a rope-like length of fabric.

Thankfully, Solaris is preoccupied somewhere else, giving you plenty of time to set things up.

Your knot-tying skills are less than subpar, but you make do. Once secured, you throw the makeshift rope outside and tug on it a few times for safety purposes.

With an audible gulp, you slowly shimmy down, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking down below. Thankfully, the ground reaches you before anything bad can happen. When your feet touch the grass, relief floods your veins in one dizzying rush.

Freedom is finally in sight. There's no sign of Solaris anywhere.

You're about to sprint away from the watch tower as fast as possible, when suddenly an invisible force renders you completely immobile.

"Sneaky, sneaky," comes a familiar voice behind you.

When you don't respond, Solaris clicks their tongue. They snap their fingers once, removing the invisible chains around your body.

They pick you up and rest you against their hip while ascending up the stairs. "Oh dear. Now look what we've done—you ripped poor Mama's favorite curtains..."

You wriggle desperately in their grasp. "Let me go!"

"Why?" they say, sounding genuinely confused. "I made you those cute clothes. I fed you. Why run away? Do you enjoy breaking my heart?" There's a brief pause while they push open a door to a bedroom and place you inside. "Maybe a night alone in here will make you reconsider your choices."

Before you can argue or defend yourself, Solaris closes the door, and you hear the tell-tale jiggling of keys and turning of locks on the other side.

You pull at the knob and pound your fists on the wood repeatedly, until your hands sting and throb with a dull pain.

Then, the exhaustion settles deep in your bones and you fall asleep on the bed.

Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨

TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink

(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)

Entrapment

A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?

~~~~

You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.

He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.

You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.

Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.

The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.

~~~~

The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.

Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.

Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.

Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?

It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.

It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.

“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.

“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?

No.

He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.

He just wouldn’t.

“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”

~~~~

Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?

Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.

It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.

In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.

But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.

Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.

~~~~

Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.

Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.

No more calculating.

No more cunning.

No more being methodic.

No more.

Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.

At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.

One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.

After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.

He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.

Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.

You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.

“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”

Hi I really enjoyed reading YANDERE PLATONIC TENGEN AND HIS WIVES ,do you think I could request yandere platonic tanjiro and nezuko hcs please💓

Yup and I’m so glad you liked Tengen and his wives.

TW: Yandere Themes, Overprotectiveness, Violence, Potential Anime Spoilers

Yandere Kamado Siblings

•You’re the third eldest of your family, a responsible and caring child. You and the Kamados’ had a wonderful and peaceful life. You would help Nezuko care for your younger siblings, and aid Tanjiro with selling coal.

•But all that changed when you and Tanjiro went out to sell coal and came back to discover that Muzan had killed your family- all except for Nezuko. Although she’s been turned into a demon, Nezuko doesn’t attack you. It’s as if her instincts are telling her not too. When Giyuu arrives you beg and plead for sister, only to be shoved aside. This angers both Tanjiro and Nezuko. However, Giyuu outmaneuvers both of them and knocks them out

•After that Giyuu directs you all to Urokodaki. During your journey Tanjiro holds your hand, until the demon attack and Nezuko kills it. Once they arrive at Urokodaki, Tanjiro comes to the conclusion that your safety comes above all else. He’s training to be a demon slayer, and Nezuko is a demon; but you? You’re their baby sibling, the only one left. They can’t lose you.

•Much to your protest, Tanjiro forbids you to become a demon slayer and makes you stay with Urokodaki when he isn’t there. Due to the danger he faces on missions, Tanjiro decides that you should remain with Urokodaki. And as much as it hurts him to leave you, and separate you and Nezuko, it has to be done. No amount of pleading or begging will change his mind.

•With Urokodaki, you find some semblance of peace. You miss your siblings, truly, but you enjoy the sense of freedom you found here. But that doesn’t last long because you’re reunited with them during the events of rehabilitation training arc, curtesy of Giyuu.

•Tanjiro and Nezuko are ecstatic to see you again! They’ve missed you so much. And you’re happy to see them too, of course. It’s just that, they’ve changed a little.

•Nezuko clings to you, constantly hugging you and patting your head. She will start sobbing if you try to leave her. And Tanjiro is no help considering he’s just as attached. You love them, you really do, but you need personal space.

•They’re also insanely protective, you’re barely allowed outside of Butterfly Manor when they’re there. You can just go outside for five minutes and they’ll be on your case. Nezuko will be wailing and cuddling you tightly while Tanjiro will scold you for leaving without them. What if you had gotten hurt or worse?! They’d never be able to live with themselves!

•Tanjiro wants nothing more for you to be happy, but your safety takes priority. Plus, you’ve got him and Nezuko and they’re all you’ll ever need. So just be good and let them take care of you.

EEENFBEB YOUR DEMON SLAYER WORK IS SO GOOD, I REMEMBER READING SOME OF IT FROM LIKEEE,, ALMOST A YEAR AGO? I DON'T REMEMBER BUT DHJDJF YOUR WORK IS AMAXINJDD 🫶🫶

Thank you. I love your work too.

Aaa- hello there! i found your posts again! i just wanted to see how one of my fav tumblr users that i literally stop everything to see what they post- haha, i just really like your writing style <33 anyways, lot of love from me! i hope you are doing good :D

Stop, you’re too kind and you’re gonna make me cry.

Jk you already did.

But for real, thank you so much and I’m so happy you like my writing style. Also sorry for the long break, I just had some stuff to take care of. But now I’m back to posting and plan on doing so more frequently!

ur sukuna mafia fanfic changed my life i love you and him

Thank you! Writing him was such a challenge, I adore the way he turned out and people’s response ☺️

YANDERE PLATONIC TENGEN AND HIS WIVES TW: Yandere, Possessive Behaviour, Injuries, Mild Gore(?), Violence

You probably drew Tengen’s attention first and foremost. How? You’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you were going about your day when the massive, flamboyant Sound Hashira crashed into your life.

You were awestruck, I mean how couldn’t you be? You’ve just barely reached the rank of Kanato, and before you stands a Hashira, one of the strongest members the corps!

Tengen doesn’t understand his feelings right away, denying his new-found obsession for you. He only insists on you going with you on every mission, spending every single minute possible with you because of how flamboyant you are.

But his jealousy flares every time you gush about Rengoku’s strength, or Shinobu’s intelligence.

He’s the one who recognized your flamboyant potential. He’s the one who improved your swordsmanship skills. He’s the one who raised you to the rank of Hinoe with just two months of training.

Still unable to recognize his growing obsession with you, he finds the solution to all his problems, you can just become his Tsukago! His and his alone. And of course, you’re elated. Not just because of the promotion, but rather because Tengen thinks you’re worthy enough to become his successor.

And obviously, as his only successor, you should meet his wives. Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru all adore you. You’re just the sweetest thing, aren’t you? All flustered with the attention they’re giving you. So humble too! Adamantly denying your skills. You got to where you are because of Tengen, only because of his training were you ae to accomplish all that you have.

Tengen’s heart swells with pride watching you with his family, you and his family. It is perfect and flamboyant, because you are with him and you are safe until suddenly you aren’t. Until suddenly you’re on your first mission together as his Tsukago, and it’s harder than anything you’ve ever faced.

It’s perfect until one of the many demons that swarm you endlessly manages to land a hit. And suddenly, you’re in his arms bleeding. There’s so much blood, your blood. He gently cradles your body in his arms, trembling with anger at your pitiful form. In a blind fit of rage, Tengen slaughtered the remaining demons.

He angrily demanded the Kakushi to give you the best treatment possible, as your breathing became slower and steadier.

Tengen has Shinobu treat you, and he remains by your side along with his wives until you finally regain consciousness. Immediately, everyone sprang to action, Suma began sobbing tears of joy, Makio shouts alternate between demanding for a doctor and questioning your condition frantically, Hinatsuru attempts to soothe you, reaching to place a placating hand on your shoulder.

All of this overwhelms you, which is noticed by Tengen, who orders his wives out of the hospital room. Tengen manages to calm you down and explains your condition. You’ve been injured, badly. He says Shinobu orders at least two months bed rest. You try to sit up to protest, but the pain sears through you at the sudden moment. Begrudgingly, you agree.

Tengen remains by your side, caring for you, and when he can’t, his wives are more than happy to step up. Soon, the realization dawns on Tengen that he likes you being like this. A little baby who relies on him and his wives, on their papa and mamas. The delusional gears begin to turn, and his protective instincts are driven to a high.

After two months pass, you’re still being babied by Tengen and his wives, despite you feeling fine. And it’s not that you’re ungrateful for their care, but you want to go out on missions again, you want to do your job. But Hinatsuru shuts down all talk of being better by masterfully changing the topic of your conversation. Makio always scolds you, albeit gently, because don’t you recall the severe pain you felt? And Suma is by far the worst, she begins bawling at the thought of you being potentially in danger. So really, you have no other choice but to ask Tengen.

“No.”

“No?” You repeat dumbly, baffled by the audacity he held.

“Yes, no. I forbid you from going on missions.” Tengen declares, leaving you speechless.

He forbids you?! Who does he think he is? Sure, you’re grateful for all his and his wives help, but that doesn’t mean he can just forbid you from going on missions. You’re a member of the corps, just like he is. And while you may not be a Hashira, you are certainly skilled. Besides, what’s the point in all his training just to not go on missions anymore?

“You are my flamboyant Tsukago,” Tengen says, “and as your flamboyant master, you must respect me and my decisions.”

You felt mild anger surge through you at the implication of you not respecting him. All you have felt since you meet the swordsman was respect and admiration. You honed your skills so you could fight alongside him and be a worthy successor.

“I do respect you!” You protest. “But you trained me so I could be your successor, the next Sound Hashira!”

Tengen gives an irritated sigh. Your stubbornness was flamboyant, but rather troubling.

Huffing, you turn to leave, “This is my job, so I’m going to get my next mission, no matter what you say!”

Tengen lets out a soft sigh once more, before swiftly landing a hit to back of your neck. He silently catches you and holds you in his arms. If only you could be a little less difficult. Don’t get him wrong, he loves your flamboyant spirit, but he just can’t let you get hurt again. And you were correct, being a demon slayer was your job, but not anymore. You won’t need a job. You’re a baby, his baby. So he and his wives will take care of you. As he glances down at you, slumped in his arms, a serene look on your face. Yes, he assured himself, this is what you needed.