Banda Sunato - Tumblr Posts

is Banda moodboard coming soon, also sorry for being late but happy birthday, hope it was the best birthday you could have ><

Dating Sunato Banda <3

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ : 0-0 hi hi!! how could I ever forget banda?! and thank u for the nice message 🥹 <33

Am i the only one (with my friend who i encouraged) who ships Yaba and Banda in s2? Just me? LIKE COME ON THEYRE THE DEFINITION OF A POWER COUPLE, MURDER HUSBANDS FR

"We're equals." HELLOO?? IS THAT NOT HOMOEROTIC

I love them sm i need more content of them

Broken Promises

Pairing: Banda Sunato x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Words: 2,9k

Summary: You never expected to find your ex-husband in the Borderlands, of all places. Especially not when he was supposed to be on death row.

Warnings ⚠️ Established Relationship, Mentions of Murder, Serial Killers, is Banda after all

Notes: This was requested by the lovely @ch-xr that loves fictional unhinged men as much as I do <3 hope you enjoy it! (Also, I know Banda supposedely only murdered 4 women, but for dramatics sake I made him more... prolific.)

Masterlist | AO3

His eyes on you made you more nervous than anything you had experienced in this retched place until then. It was both a familiar and unfamiliar feeling, filled with the promise of pain and suffering if you did as much as attempt to look in his direction, which you quickly realized you didn’t want to do.

Coward, a tiny voice in your head accused as you made yourself even smaller in your seat. But you couldn’t help the emotions that being under his predatory gaze evoked within you; primal fear, the uncontrollable need to freeze or flight. You knew that fighting was out of the question where he was concerned. You couldn’t even gather the courage to try it.

Unfortunately, there was no place for you to run or hide in this prison. Not until you left the game a winner.

Or died. One of the two.

You could feel your shoulders tense up as the next round approached minute by minute, and so you hurried to finish your meal, barely tasting the chocolate crumbs on your tongue.

The Jack of Hearts was an easier game than most in your humble opinion, and you were lucky enough to trust your game partner (for now at least) – still, the very real possibility of your demise was always hovering over your head like the dark cloud that it was. However, given your current circumstances, dying didn’t seem like the worse fate you could have.

“You know him, don’t you?”

You jumped in your seat as a man sat beside you, almost choking on your cookie as you tried to hide the grimace that took over your expression as your partner’s eyes sharply looked into yours. You coughed as you shook your head, already denying it despite not even asking whom he was referring to.

“You do.”

“What?” you tried, faking ignorance, only making him roll his eyes.

“Him,” Chishiya said as he nodded in the direction of the man still watching you. “Banda. You know him, don’t you?”

You knew that Chishiya was smarter than most, but you were still impressed by how observant he could be. Or were you that obvious in your state of fear?

“What makes you say that?”

“He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you while you’ve been doing the exact opposite.”

“So what?” you shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but knowing you failed when Chishiya raised a brow. “He just makes me uncomfortable, that’s all. You know as well as I do that he’s a serial killer.”

That would be the understatement of the century.

Banda Sunato didn’t just make you uncomfortable; you feared him to a degree that made you almost incapable of functioning, all your senses focused on him 24/7, waiting for the moment he would strike. Because it wasn’t a matter of if – you knew him too well to ever believe that – but a matter of when; when he would catch you alone.

Because he wasn’t just a serial killer and – to you – he wasn’t just some man, some criminal. He was one of Japan’s most infamous serial killers, with 24 victims confirmed, and who knew how many were still left to admit. Banda Sunato was a man destined to live the rest of his days on death row, until the day he would be executed for his crimes and finally go back to the hell he had spawned from.

You so happened to be the woman that had called him your husband.

“Chishiya.” His voice made a shiver run down your spine, and you could feel your heart start racing against your chest as Banda sat right in front of you, his hands in your field of vision as you stared down at the tabletop. You hadn’t even noticed him approach. “I would like to speak with her alone…”

You gulped as you side-eyed the man beside you, imploring him with your eyes to please not leave you alone with him. However, either by ignorance or cruelty, your pleas fell on deaf ears, and Chishiya stood up and left the table with nothing else but a nod and a wordless hum.

A moment went by where neither you nor Banda said a word, his fingers tip-tapping on the table’s surface in a familiar rhythm; one one two, one one two. Tap tap tap, tap tap tap. He used to tap that same rhythm against your naked skin, and you could always tell if something was bothering him by how fast his movements were. And right now, his fingers were drumming against the tabletop like a nervous tick.

You could feel his eyes on you, observing you, pressuring you into doing or saying something, to give him a reason to act. So, you stayed still, controlling your shaky breathing as your hands trembled. You knew this moment was coming the moment you entered this game arena and your eyes locked.

Then his movements suddenly stopped, and you held your breath.

“You’re scared of me,” he said in a low tone, matter of factly.

“C-Can you blame me?” you whispered back, hiding your hands under the table with a gasp when he attempted to graze his fingers against yours. “Don’t touch me!” you added when his hand followed your movements, grabbing your sleeve.

“I don’t like it.”

You said nothing, eyes still cast down. How could he expect you not to fear him after everything he had done?

“You know better than to be scared,” he continued, a faint hint of annoyance in his tone. You forced yourself to whisper a retort, gathering the courage to say it aloud when he asked, “What did you say?”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you murdered all those women,” you let out, eyes locking on his. He was not angry as you thought he would be, but you could see he wasn’t happy by the small crease in between his brows. He looked at you like you were a child throwing a tantrum and he was the adult that had to make you see reason. For the first time since you saw him again, you started to feel something else than just fear.

“You know I would never hurt you,” he said, fingers gripping your sleeve as he pulled your arm to him.

“I don’t know you, Sunato.” You shook your arm out of his grasp, suddenly aware that others were watching you. Good. “I never really did.”

You gasped when he said your name, looking into his eyes; it was the first time you were hearing it from his lips since he had been ruled guilty of all those murders. You hadn’t dared to read his letters or accept any of his calls since then.

“You know that’s not true,” he said. You averted your eyes again, looking back at him as he repeated your name. “I treated you well, didn’t I?”

He did treat you well. That was why it hurt even more. Because the man that dried your tears after your mother’s passing, took you on random trips and made you laugh with his dark sense of humor couldn’t possibly be the same man that dumped women’s maimed bodies in shallow graves. That was why part of you still mourned the husband you had lost even though more than three years had gone by. The other part simply acted as if he had never existed in the first place.

“You didn’t visit,” he added after a moment of silence. “You promised you would.”

“That was a promise I had to break.”

His face and his name had been everywhere. Every news channel, every newspaper, every time you logged on to social media, there he was; Banda Sunato, 25 years old, The Tokyo Ripper, accused of the horrible murder of 24 women. You hadn’t believed it at first, not even when his only survivor identified him, not even when they matched his DNA, not even when more evidence was found connecting him to the crime scenes. You only believed it when you saw the truth in his eyes, crude and black as coal as the judge declared him guilty and he had no reaction but to smirk.

It was like a mask falling, and underneath it was a monster that you swore you had no idea existed.

You couldn’t lie to yourself after that. Not when everyone could see him for who he really was. Not when he didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. Not even from you.

“Do you still love me?”

The question made you gasp in surprise before you felt a frown distort your features.

“Don’t talk to me about love when you don’t even know what the word means,” you spat in his direction as you made a move to stand up; how dare he ask such a thing after what he had done to you?

You gasped as you felt his long fingers curl around your wrist in a tight grip, forcing you to sit back down at the table with visible commotion. You felt your face heat up as you tried to ignore everyone’s looks and whispers. He wouldn’t dare to hurt you in front of others, would he?

His hand let go of your wrist to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His face was so close to yours that you could smell him, that scent that made him him, fresh and misty with a hint of ginger. It made you want to take a deep breath and tears pool in your eyes. You missed him.

“That was not what I asked,” he corrected with a dangerous look in his gaze. He was upset, you could see that, but you also knew him better than anyone. “Do you still love me?”

Your breath got caught in your lungs, and you couldn’t look away from his dark brown eyes, the ones you used to love so much. The ones you still loved, you realized with a tightness in your chest.

“Do you?” you asked in a whisper. “Did you ever love me?”

Something shifted in his eyes, and for a moment you just stared at each other. Then he opened his mouth, but before he could talk a computer voice snapped both of you out of your bubble.

“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”

You took that chance to flee, legs shaking as you made your way to the cells on the upper level. You didn’t hesitate as you closed yourself in one, pressing your hands against the sink on the furthest wall and closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath, followed by a low sob.

This game was not what was going to kill you; he was. You had seen it in the way he had looked at you, the way his eyes had darkened when you asked if he had ever truly loved you. You doubt he could ever love anyone, but whatever he felt for you was strong enough to make a chill run down your spine when you thought about it.

It was possessive, primal, like a need. You used to love it when he looked at you like that, mistaking it for passion and devotion. But not now, when you knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if he couldn’t have you.

He had told you that himself, in the first and only letter you had accepted from him. You had ignored every phone call, and had thrown in the trash every note and every other letter; but not that one. Not the one he wrote for your birthday, your second one after he had been sentenced. You felt so lonely, still crying over the husband you had lost, tricking yourself into believing he was dead. Rather dead than a murderer.

And then there was that letter, written in his neat handwriting, spelling out your name, and that was when you realized you couldn’t deny the truth anymore.

You filed for divorce after that, praying to every god that was listening that Banda Sunato never got the chance to be free and chase you down.

Gods – if they even existed – clearly had a twisted sense of humor.

“You know you can’t run from me.”

You tensed as his voice sounded behind you, not exactly surprised to find him stepping in and closing the door before the familiar click of a lock echoed in your ears. You were now locked in a cell with him; you were going to die.

You couldn’t utter a word as a moment passed, eyes focused on him as he calmly walked to stop right in front of you, hands behind his back and a light smirk on his lips. He looked smug, like a fox that had caught the rabbit, but you knew that his emotions were more complex than that. You could see it in the arch of his brow, how tense his jaw was; a small part of him was as nervous as you were.

“Please, give your answer,” the game demanded.

“Spades,” he said, eyes locked on yours. You said nothing, too transfixed by him, waiting for a sign of what he was about to do next. “Say your deck, baby,” he told you after a moment. “C’mon, use your words.”

“H-Hearts,” you forced yourself to utter in a whisper. You almost wished for your answer to be wrong; that way you wouldn’t have to face him anymore. He couldn’t hurt you if you were dead.

You jumped in place as a bang somewhere down the hall announced someone’s mistake, and the doors unlocked soon after. You let out a shaky breath; you were still alive. The game hadn’t killed you yet.

“Aren’t you happy to be alive,” he whispered in your ear, fingers combing through your hair just on the verge of too roughly. “Alive and with me, together again as we were meant to be?”

You shook your head, hands on his chest weakly pushing him away.

“Let me go,” you breathed out in a shaky tone, whimpering as he pushed you against the sink. “Please. I can’t do this…”

“Do what? Be with your husband?”

“Sunato, please, stop-”

“Shh, calm down,” he cooed against your head, arms hugging you closer despite your attempts to push him away. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You gave up then, falling into his embrace. You sobbed against his chest like he had come back from the dead, hugging him like you were afraid he would disappear. The last three years weren’t real; you were still happily married, and he hadn’t killed anyone. You could almost forget where you were and what he had done. Everything would be so much easier if you did.

He was caught by surprise when you kissed him – you could hear it in his gasp and the way he suddenly tensed before relaxing and cupping your cheeks in his hands, urging you to deepen the kiss. You didn’t stop him there, letting his hands roam over your body as he made you sit up on the sink, lips only leaving yours to suck and nibble at the skin available on your neck and chest.

You closed your eyes as the man that had destroyed your life all those years ago ravished you with abandon. He had blood on his hands and he had betrayed you beyond forgiveness. But did any of that matter now?

You refused to believe it did.

Not when his kisses felt like fire on your skin, the cold ceramic of the sink under you barely noticeable as he stripped you naked from the waist down, fingers at your burning core the moment your panties were discarded aside. You were dripping wet before he even touched you, legs shaking as you worked him free of his belt. You wanted him inside you. You would die without him.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he whispered against your cheek as he rutted into you, slender fingers gripping your hip and raising a knee up as he fucked you at a rapid pace, hips snapping against the back of your thighs.

Your core burned in pleasure and pain, your whines and moans muffled by his mouth as he made you feel every inch of him. You had missed his body against yours, his cock inside you, hard and hot and maddening. He fucked you like it was the last time, forcing you to take every inch of him again and again until you were hoarse from screaming and your neck and chest were marked with his teeth. It reminded you of your life from before, when he would come home and fuck you like you were nothing but a whore, leaving you crying, bruised, and dripping with his cum before kissing you senseless and taking care of you for the rest of the night.

Only after did you realize he fucked you like that after a successful killing.

It was madness. All of this. But why would you care when the world itself had become mad?

“Promise you’ll stay with me?” you hesitantly asked as you regained your breath, his forehead pressed against yours and his cum dripping down your leg.

The way he looked at you – full of desire and contentment – made you gift him a smile of your own. He smiled back, a genuine smile, and, for the first time since he was gone, you felt at peace.

“I do. And I never break a promise. I’m not letting you go.”

POV: Banda escaping whatever prison he was in to get to that cross walk

Hayato Isomura x fem reader

hii @mrsmildmustard ! i’m so sorry this took a long time i wanted to start over because i didn’t like the one in my drafts and i haven’t been feeling motivated to write but i will be finishing all requests!

You were laying in bed waiting for your boyfriend to come home from and event of his new show ‘Alice in Borderland’ you has already watched the first season when it came out and you just finished season 2. You thought it was worth the long wait especially seeing your boyfriend play Banda.

You heard the front door open and you waved for Hayato to come to your guys shared room.

“Hi y/n i’ve missed you” he came next to you and layed his head on your chest.

“Hi baby i’ve missed u to, how was the event?” you asked him putting your phone to the side.

“It was fun, how are you?” he asked getting up from your chest ti go put some more comfortable clothes on then went to lay on you again.

“i’m okay a little tired” you started to run your fingers through his hair and he asked if you guys could watch something on netflix. You nodded and reached o er to the remote and went onto netflix.

“what do you want to watch?” you asked looking down at him but he gave to no answer.

“I didn’t know you watched alice in borderland” you look and saw that it was in your watch again category.

“oh yeah i started when it came out” you responded to him looking for something to watch.

“How did u like it?” Hayato asked you sitting up, his back again the pillows.

“it was good, i really liked it! especially Banda” you said putting on a movie you picked out. he layed his head on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist while mumbling a ‘thank you’.

You wrapped you arms around him as well and played with his hair again knowing how much he likes it. A few minutes into the movie you heard soft snores coming from your shoulder, you looked down and saw that he was asleep.

“Goodnight baby, i love you” you whispered and kissed the side of his head, you grabbed the remote and turned the volume of the tv down so he didn’t wake up while you watched the movie.

a/n- i hope you enjoyed and once again i’m so sorry this took so long! have a great day/night!