Yandere Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Careless Whisper.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a long game of playing hard to get, Satoru finally gets you to go on a date with him. But you didn’t expect him to choose a farmer’s market of all places for it to happen.

Warnings: Yandere themes, threats of kidnapping, manipulation, and stalking.

Continuation of There is an Uproar.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd

Get Up by NewJeans

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

Bathroom by Montell Fish

Hotel by Montell Fish

Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock)

After Hours by The Weeknd

Government Hooker by Lady Gaga

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

The Walls by Chase Atlantic

“You’re killing me; don’t you see that you’re the winner of the game?” – Benét, Killing Eve

*~*~*~*

You hold onto the basket like a lifeline. 

You grasp the handle so tightly it leaves a mark on your palm and the inner parts of your fingers, and you can practically feel splinters impaling them.

They say the devil takes on many forms, and if it were said that the devil could take the form of a white-haired man with sunglasses in whatever religious texts you were given in your childhood, you would believe that without question.

The identity of whoever or whatever forced you on this little outing is not human. You know this. He can’t be. If he is, your view of humanity will decrease tenfold from where it once was.

Should you pray to all the higher powers and heavens above that he is or is not?

“Come on, let’s get moving!” They say monsters speak in either honeyed, calm, and sweet voices or grimy and croaky ones; but this one is neither. “I kinda want to pet a chicken.”

*~*~*~*

“There’s my girlie!” 

You were not surprised in the slightest when Satoru pulled up to your door with a Rolls-Royce. At the sight and the called-out nickname, you even roll your eyes and cross your arms, much to the driver’s amusement. The car is adorned with lamb's wool carpets, embellished with stunning wood and milled aluminum accents, and encased in box grain leather. Only the highest quality materials for the all-high and mighty Satoru Gojo. It is the topmost privilege for a mere mortal like you to even see it. 

“You ready?” As you ever will be.

“Yeah.” Your response is quick and to the point. “You still haven’t even told me where we are going for this… date.”

The smirk that appears on his face instantly gives you the impulse to slap it off. But he is stronger, and will most likely not let you, because he is the one in control and not you. So, as he beckons you closer, you close the car door behind you and sit down on the leather seat. The drive to hit him still stands for as long as you anticipated. You just look out the window and hope it goes away.

It is nice outside. Though if Satoru’s foot was not on the peddle, you would have liked it more.

It’s spring now. The grass is bright green and tall, and you could swear that you can smell it. Tiny circles of flowers are there now and then. Dandelions and daffodils mostly. You could count them if Satoru was not driving so damn fast you think he is speeding.

He put your purse and phone in the back seat because, of course, he would want no distractions to stop you from paying attention to him.

He starts talking about how nice your dress looks and how happy he is to have you as his girlfriend.

You want to puke.

It would take at least two weeks for the smell to go away. He would have to clean it up because you would refuse to. Any damage done to his ego no matter how small is a win in your book.

You could picture it now. Satoru, long plastic gloves on his hands and wearing an apron, scrubbing the expensive carpet stained with bile and looking disgusted with you. Maybe he would give up on you then.

You almost laugh at the thought but decide against it when he starts talking with a smile that does not exactly reach his eyes.

*~*~*~*

He is tailing behind you like a grim reaper.

The black turtleneck he is wearing you suppose could count as a cloak. His face is white enough to be a skull, his hair helping you see it in your mind. All the expectations he has for you could be considered a guillotine’s blade that is ready to be let loose at any moment. Maybe a scythe. Don’t lose your head. That is what you keep telling yourself as you go down the aisles of sewn aprons and freshly baked bread and chickens wandering not too far off from the butcher’s cutting board. Don’t lose your head.

So, you keep walking to not be the victim of Satoru’s wrath.

“They’re so cute!” He exclaims, bending down to get a better look at the rabbits that are trapped within the confines of the barbed fence. “I just want to take one home! It would be like having another you around!”

His cooing makes you want to stab your eardrums out with the plastic fork you were given along with a free sample of chicken pot pie.

But you can’t ignore him either, he yearns for your responses like an addict.

“I’m not a rabbit.” You roll your eyes. Satoru responds by turning his head at you and then turning it again to make a visibly confused expression. “I’m a human. Not a pet. Not something to… lock up.” As his countenance turns somber and a hint of amusement lingers, the playful aura dissipates. Your breathing hastens, and your heart races. Perhaps voicing your thoughts was an ill-advised choice. Maybe an alternate utterance would have been wiser. Any alternative, for that expression, is one you wish to never witness again.

As you struggle to catch your breath, Satoru's steady grip on your shoulder brings a faint awareness to your hyperventilation. He calls out your name repeatedly, trying to reach through the haze of tears in your eyes. However, his words offer no solace or relief.

“Come on! Of course, you are.”

Maybe you will puke after all. But not on purpose like you originally intended.

His smile feels like a stab to the chest. Everything he does feels that way.

“...What do you mean?” What exactly does he have planned for you?

How far back do they go? Days, months, years, decades?

“You’ll see. You’ll like them, I know you will.” His hand clasps over your free one like a noose. “Either when you first know them or further down the line. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what you think. But just know I only have your best intentions at heart, okay? I can promise you that at least.”

“...Mmhmm. Let’s just… get moving.” Once again, you are off within a labyrinth of stalls.

You liked farmer’s markets during the warmer months, with your family and friends during school breaks and vacation times. Is that why he chose this place? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he also likes them. However, you cannot process the words Satoru and farmer’s market in the same sentence.

You pictured him bringing you to some nightclub and forcing you to dance under disco lights and loud music until you nearly faint from exhaustion. As much as you don’t want to admit it, maybe this is the better option.

You can’t imagine any other option. It could be worse. Those threats of his can easily become true, he could just lock you up in his penthouse and refuse to let you leave.

So, you don’t complain. You don’t want Satoru to get upset, even if you haven’t seen him that way.

“We’ll eventually move in together. Get married further down the line. Maybe have a kid or two, if we are really up to it, though I don’t mind if it is just the two of us.”

For once, you hope Satoru chooses his initial thought. You don’t want to bring any child into this hell.

“Romantic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

His finger traces the bridge of your nose downward and the tip of it presses on its end.

“Boop!”

“Sigh…”

He does it again.

“So cute…”

“Let’s just continue.” You try so hard not to seethe. “I heard at this specific market they have good lentil soup. Focaccia too. Let’s go.”

He nods.

“Okay! We’re off!”

There is no escape, is there?

“It should be by the coffee stalls if I remember correctly.” You don’t get to finish because of course Satoru found a brand new interest to fixate on.

Aprons. Specifically, the pink lacy one that he is holding gently like a baby. “[First]! Look! You should wear it. It suits you!”

You shake your head immediately. To this, Satoru frowns. You’re hungry after being hauled around from stall to stall for the past hour or so. Can’t he understand that?

He holds the apron up closer to your face.

You turn away from it. Satoru only puts it closer. He really can be stubborn. That is what got you in this situation in the first place. As stubborn as you sometimes are, you can hardly compare to him. But that is with most things. 

Money, power, influence, he will always have more than you will, won’t he? Damn it. No escape. Not from him.

Not from him.

But you can try, can’t you? You can at least try. “Come on! It would look so cute on you.” You shake your head. His frown only deepens and he sighs.

Then he shoots you a look again. The look demanding of you to be good or else. The look that gets you to obey him every time he uses it. Every time he puts his foot down. 

Don’t lose your head.

Evade the blade.

“Good,” He says, handing you the apron with the smile you unsurprisingly prefer over the hellish expression he just showed you. “Go.”

You do.

Damn it. As long as Satoru keeps toying with you, you won’t ever be able to find peace. No escape. Damn it.

You slip the apron on as he watches, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Montero.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: It was easy to find you.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, and major power imbalance.

Word Count: 700.

*~*~*~*

Satoru left the door unlocked again. He also left the keys on the table and some money. It was so obviously a trap. But how could you resist such an offer to get away from a man who has taken control of your entire life and forced you to be his little stay-at-home girlfriend? When you think about it later, after you were caught a few weeks later, after emptying every ATM you come across, using Satoru's stolen credit and debit cards, after buying yourself a motel room and passing out drunk, after buying one train ticket after another with the aim of getting to Japan's border and either sneaking onto a boat or purchasing a pass to get on. You thought of how to divide your stolen money, whether to sneak onto the ship or buy a ticket to not be arrested and thrown back into Satoru's suffocating arms. Unfortunately for you, Satoru already knew where you were, what you were doing, everything. He was always one step ahead of you.

You never know what is going on inside his head. It is both a blessing and a curse. You never know what he is going to do to you. But you also are not broken because Satoru, ironically enough, still has enough self-control to let you have some independence. Emphasis on some. It is mostly shown through moments exactly like this. But the independence is still false, like a painting of a door on a wall. 

It may look good from afar, but it is unusable. It is only good for looking at and hoping that whatever higher power there is will eventually turn into a real door because you are not God. You are not God, and you cannot create things, living or not. Satoru knows this. You come to know it. In this world, Satoru is the closest thing to a god, you think. 

He expects you to worship him as one too.

You used to, long ago. How could you resist being captivated by him, with his radiant presence and gleaming white appearance, emanating a comforting warmth and possessing eyes as vast as the boundless sky? Though his teachings were cryptic and filled with bewildering references to cursed energy and haunting visions, you swallowed them like sacred doctrine, like the finest wine in all the land, embracing him as your rescuer. He had liberated you from darkness and vowed to keep you immersed in luminosity. Whatever his true nature, it was divine enough for your devotion.

But you don’t anymore. You don’t know whether Satoru misses your praising words or not. But you don’t see him as the devil either, anymore. You blame him for the bottles and bottles you drink and drink in those motel rooms, using abandoned restrooms infested with rats, and soon having nothing to eat because you used all of your money out of impulse, out of fear. But deep down, you blame yourself for being caught back in Satoru’s web. Because, against everything and everyone telling you not to, you tried to get past security and sneak onto a boat to South Korea.

It made finding you all the easier, Satoru told you. He knew what you were doing the whole time, when you bought enough beer to nearly give you lethal alcohol poisoning, when he came to rescue you from the nearest police station, from the police officers interrogating you and threatening violence and insulting you with every word in the book. As much as you want to blame him entirely, you know some of it was you. He didn’t force you to do anything. You could have just stayed where you were placed and waited for him to come back. You are human, not immune to sin indulgence, and selfishness. So is Satoru. Neither of you are God, and neither of you are Satan.

But oh how you wish that either of you were. No matter who gets the power, at least there is some difference between you. 

Because Satoru and you are many things, but self-sacrificing isn’t one of them. Both of you know that, and you hate it. Satoru loves it.

Experience.

Yan Nanami x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Kento says to meet him downstairs to get ready to go outside.

Warnings: Yandere themes, past stalking, kidnapping, manipulation, and past violence.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

Last winter, your captor informed you that you would have the opportunity to venture outdoors when the darkness fell, the streets were deserted, and the pavements were sprinkled with salt. Despite endlessly waiting for Kento to stop reading his book and unlock the closet near the entrance, allowing you to slip into your jacket, the awaited moment never arrived. This instance marked the first occasion when Kento inflicted more emotional pain upon you than physical.

It hurt because he promised. Kento had never broken a promise to you before. Never. For better or worse, whether that was promising to buy you a cake for when you were good for a few weeks or promising to slap you across the face whenever he caught you mid-escape attempt. 

You asked him if he was going to take you when the sun had set, the fireplace was lit and your cup of tea had long since become cold. For what seemed like an eternity, his gaze lingered, chilling you to the bone from head to toe. Silence. No answer. You teared up and kept scrambling and muttering begs to go outside even if it was just for a moment or two.

With every one, he shook his head and turned to another page of his novel. After enough, he started to sigh to the rest of them. Soon, you stopped, looking down at your cold feet and shuffling to the kitchen to grab your sweater, as useless as it was to keep you warm in this weather. That was when he spoke.

“It’s snowing.” Kento pointed to the apartment window, and the winter wonderland outside looked more horrifying than hell to you and to you alone. Snowflakes rush to the ground every second, painting the sidewalks and roads a shade of white fit for a traditional bridal veil. “You’ll catch a cold, and you could get hurt.”

You stopped walking and faced him. Tears fell from your eyes then, after so long of being unpunished. Despite the warmth of the flames within the stoker placed by the television, your cheeks felt so stinging that you could have sworn that your cries would turn into icicles that would sooner than later impale your feet. You sniffle, and Kento stands up from his rocking chair at long last.

Old habits die hard and come back to life at that very moment. Impulses, animal, and raw and afraid. You ran frantically, wanting to be anywhere but in the same room as him at the very least. But wherever you ran and hid, he would always find you.

In no time, you discovered your back against the wall, caught between the pantry door that refused to budge and the ever-present figure of Kento. It felt like a repeat of the day you awoke in this place, only this time Kento displayed a touch of kindness he lacked before, back when you bit and screamed and always got tied up or hit with his belt. So, because of this slight development, rather than resorting to violence or depriving you of your fundamental rights, he opted for a different approach–a proposition to be exact. 

“We… can bake something.” He utters his words with a hint of uncertainty. “Something warm. Whatever you want. I just don’t want you to get sick. During the colder times of the month, influenza especially gets passed around as quickly as wildfire. There is also the common cold. Those… and curses. You aren’t strong enough to defeat them. We both already know that don’t we?”

Despite its lack of fairness, the exchange was still a trade, albeit an imbalanced one. So, you think. Things are set in stone already for Kento. He won’t budge. You may as well not try to delay the inevitable. So, slowly but surely, you nod, almost choking up another sob as you do so.

“I… Yeah. W-We can bake something.”

“Good. How about some cookies? It is the holiday season after all.”

Memories of joyful holidays spent with your true family flood your mind, contrasting sharply with the current reality of being trapped by a deranged stalker. As long as this manipulator holds power over you, the chances of reuniting with your loved ones grow increasingly slim. Concern gnaws at your heart – are your family members safe and sound? You can only hope for their well-being.

However, your heart reminds you that it's important to prioritize yourself. Consequently, you decide to proceed and accept whatever you can in the present moment. Whatever you can.

No matter the circumstances, you find yourself trapped in a suffocating grip. It could be the frost, the concern you harbor for your dear ones, or the relentless pressure of Kento's hands gripping you tightly until you're on the verge of breaking. Turning the heat up will only burn your flesh and not melt away anything. You are going to get hurt whether it is used or not.

Presentiment of Massacre.

Yan Geto x F Reader.

Synopsis: Of all the people in your village, why were you the only one spared?

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation, major spoilers for the start of JJK S2, some not SFW implications, and violence/slight gore.

Word Count: 900.

*~*~*~*

“You can see them, can’t you?”

The man is tall, so much taller, so much taller than you who is curled up into a ball in the corner of your home, to hide, an intention that was more or less popped like a balloon. He is so much taller than the corpses littering the floor with their blood, their vomit, their tears. Gazing at the disarray with a mix of revulsion and frustration, he found himself devoid of any trace of it on his person, his exasperation evident as he muttered the word monkeys repeatedly along with quick, muffled talks of cleaning and baths and stains.

“Miss. You can see them, can’t you? The beings around us.”

As he receives no response once more, he pivots. A terrifying grin adorns his face, an unsettling visage that seems to transcend the boundaries of humanity. It appears as if it is a mere appendage, capable of detachment at whim, akin to a magnet or a metallic fragment. This facade, a deceptive guise, conceals the malevolent demon lurking beneath its surface.

“...I… Please… Please just ge-”

“Answer my question.” Interrupting, he maintains a sickeningly warm smile and tone, though his words possess an entirely different temperature. They are demanding. Frigid. For nothing burns quite like the icy cold. “I know you can, from the way you are looking around the room and hiding. Stop pretending you can’t.”

Even when his gaze was averted, his vigilance never wavered, always deciphering the motives behind your awkward, apprehensive behavior. He possesses an uncanny ability to interrogate as if presiding over a courtroom, posing probing inquiries that unveil the heart of the matter. Every response you offer seems to hold the power to determine your verdict: a life of freedom, confinement, or even death.

Opting for honesty may prove beneficial. It could potentially strengthen your position, although there are no guarantees. Contemplating the act of praying, you ponder its efficacy, hoping for assistance from any divine entity that may exist. You certainly wouldn't want to become another disfigured body within the grasp of the beast behind the man's monstrous jaws.

So, after weighing all of this out, your lips part instinctively.

“Ah, I knew it. Unlike these monkeys, you are worthy.” As a reaction to those two sentences, about a million thoughts and questions sprout in your mind. “You will be spared if you join us. You do not want to be rotting on top of these filthy monkey corpses, do you?”

In an instant, you vigorously shake your head, causing a fleeting sense of dizziness, as you promptly respond to his inquiry this time.

“I’ll… I’ll… do it.” As anticipated, the act of surrendering proved to be a complex experience, simultaneously challenging and effortless. This situation resembles a collision of opposing forces, resulting in a powerful and explosive event. However, due to an innate instinct and the familiarity acquired from past encounters with your inebriated father, you find yourself succumbing once again. “Anything.” You don’t think of saying that word specifically, and you regret it later than sooner. “Just… Just please. I want to live.”

A gentle pull brings you to your feet as his hand reaches out to grasp yours.

“I am glad you accepted my conditions. Very glad.” The man brushes his side bang out of his face, his grip becoming slightly looser. “I am Suguru, Suguru Geto. Now, what is your name, my new recruit?”

“...[First].” You whisper your name so softly, questioning whether Geto caught it. “Do I… Do I have to use that too? Because…”

“No, you don’t. Though if you want you can be taught to wield something, something weaker than this.”

He responded to your question as if you were a young child inquiring about the purchasing of infants from a retail establishment. “...But do I have to?”

Geto shook his head and called the beast with two waving fingers. It is a dragon, you think, from how long it is and how it has large white scales, even whiter teeth, and long golden hair partially stained red, and how its large blue eyes stared into your soul.

“That depends on the future.” He says, his grip dwindling even further. The monster disappears with another wave of his hand. He chuckles. “Depends mainly on what you do, and why you do it.”

“…What do you think I would do?”

“You’re not good at hiding your emotions, you know.” Something creeps up your thigh, and before you have the chance to scream he puts his hand on your mouth and his other hand grabs one of your arms. “That gives way to not being able to hide your plans very well. You’re planning on running the first chance you get, aren’t you? Before you do such a silly little thing, I must tell you that I can give you protection, and luxuries beyond your imagination… everyone and everything will bow down to you.”

He looks down at the slimy red thing with at least six eyes, the build and size similar to that of a basketball. Its lips were sucking on your flesh with words like love leaving them in between moments. That was the answer to your unspoken question.

“All you have to do is follow me, okay? No matter where I go, follow me. Do that, and your life will be so much better.”

From the look in his eyes, you already know he had already made the decision for you.

Idol.

Yan Mahito x F Reader.

Synopsis: Mahito is a big fan of yours. Too bad you can’t see him yet.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, some not SFW implications, Mahito as his own warning, and implied future kidnapping.

Word Count: 400.

*~*~*~*

Mahito skillfully maneuvered his way amidst the bustling masses, navigating through the throngs of individuals, past the vigilant guards stationed outside your dressing room, until he was standing right before you. This task proved effortless for him, considering that the majority of people are unable to perceive his presence, including yourself, much to his dismay.

If you had, he would have relished envisioning the expression on your face–wide doe eyes, a startled cry, tears streaming... The potential outcomes are boundless within the realms of his imagination, contemplating what could have transpired... or perhaps what lies ahead, in due time.

Mahito has never been the best when it comes to patience, but he will try for you. Only for you. He just has to wait until your national tour ends. If he remembers correctly, your last stop should be in Kyoto. When your performance is over, he will be able to snatch you up with ease. He thinks, no, knows it will be a breeze.

“I’m your biggest fan.” He murmurs, looking over to your messy vanity. “Tsk, you really should not be rushing like this.”

You can’t see him, as usual. He recognizes your inability to do so, as you continue to gracefully apply mascara to your stunning eyelashes, completely unconcerned.

His smile would be a horrifying sight to you, reflexed in the mirror, and would certainly make you scream like blondes from B-listed horror movies he steals sometimes. “I wonder… How many autographs do I have to steal this time? Certainly a lot, right?”

However, his smirk leaves his face when he sees all of the gifts in the corner on the table in the back corner of the room. Teddy bears, flowers, cards, certainly everything he could get you, even better ones if you ever asked him to do so!

But that’s for later. Because while Mahito has never been the best with patience, he will do anything for you. Even if that means waiting a few more weeks. It is only a matter of time; he tells himself every hour or so. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll snatch you up and take such good care of you with a pretty collar on your neck and a chain and his hand pressing the top of your head until you are on your knees and-

…Once more, he must remind himself to exercise patience. There will be ample opportunity to bring his fantasies to life at a later time. Because slow and steady wins the race, right?

Banquet of Massacre.

Yan Geto x F Reader.

Synopsis: The days are blending into each other, and you just want some sort of change. But soon, you realize you have to be far more careful about what you wish for.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, not SFW implications, takes place five or so years before JJK 0, and violence.

Continuation of Presentiment of Massacre.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

The green obi gently tightening with each passing second stops at your words, but after a chuckle resumes, the slight anger in Geto’s voice is smaller than the width of a hair.

He continues with the loose, wide red sodes. You focus so much on your anxiety, about what the rest of your life will be, that you don’t notice the small golden details of koi on the red sleeves. You don’t even pay attention to the silk that ties your wrists together, a consequence of you attempting to squirm your way out of dinner again. Not that dinner was anything special this evening.

“You know,” His voice rises and falls like the wind. “Perhaps there are some things you shouldn’t say to the only reason you are still alive.”

With that, he pulls, much harder than before, on the ends of the sash, causing you to gasp for air for a moment or two. 

“I could still feed you to one of my curses you know, or all of them at the same time, they would love to get a taste of you.”

At your desperate whines, as you attempt to claw at the ceiling with restrained hands, he lets go, and with his action, your vision blurs no longer.

He spins you around and he licks his lips.

“I-I’m sorry, Master Geto.” You might be uncertain if you mean your apology, but perhaps Geto has the answer.

Just as you are not sure if Geto forgives you, but he knows the answer for sure.

The woman sitting next to both of you on the floor holds a golden hairpin in her ragged, scarred hands. She holds the hairpin just like she held the underlayer, obi string, socks, obi, and sash. She held and currently holds them all so delicately because she did not want to lose her hands. She was your handmaiden, according to Geto, and although the two of you had never exchanged words, you knew her first name was Sookee, but her last name was of no relevance if it even existed. 

Even though she was around your age, Sookee looked much older than she was because of her premature wrinkles and little white hairs sticking out of her bangs, clear signs of all the stress Geto and the rest of the people here put her through. She was an indentured servant of sorts, from what you were told, and she, like you, is often tormented by the people who live here.

You feel bad for her, whenever you hear her screams and cries, whenever she trips and breaks a porcelain teapot and gets beaten for it, or when she is too late to dress you for supper, which always causes Geto to summon a curse that is so ugly and follows her for the rest of the day and makes crude comments toward her.

There was one time that it actually bit her, and after an hour’s worth of begging, Sookee earned the right to bandage herself up.

“Monkey,” The word is bitter on his tongue and lingers in the air for far longer than either Sookee or you would have liked. “Pin.”

Although you sympathize with Sookee, your instinct urges you to prioritize your well-being before her.

“Since you are so ungrateful for the life I have given you, maybe it would be better to make you like Sookee. Would you like that, princess? To be lesser than a pauper?”

You deeply repent for uttering a single word, which emerges from your lips with complete despair. Meanwhile, Geto wears a smile as he delicately places the luxurious golden hairpin, worth more than your two kidneys combined, into your hair. With a dismissive gesture and a piercing look, he sends Sookee away, and she quietly shuts the door behind her.

You don’t stop him from pushing you onto the bed, large enough for at least five people to rest on, because really is there anything you can do? “You’re so pretty. The loveliest one, the only one worthy of what I am about to do.”

You are trapped here, forever bound by him. The door is guarded by a terrifying curse that ensures your confinement, although Geto's power makes it unnecessary. You find yourself in this place, adorned in the kimono he compelled you to wear, lying in his bed, with the makeup Sookee was forced to apply on you. And here you are, hearing his whispered words of affection as he lies upon you.

“Since you are so ungrateful for what you already have, I will give you more and more, my love, until you regret ever wishing for a life outside of this one.”

Just the Way I Am.

Yan Yuji x F Reader x Yan Sukuna.

Synopsis: Yuji is like the sun. His cursed half is like the moon. Both of them hurt you, but in different ways, but neither of them will stop. That mere fact, in the end, hurts you more than if only Sukuna was around because sometimes you think of terrible things. Terrible things like wishing Yuji, who used to always be your ray of sunshine, never existed at all or would die a slow and painful death.

Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, violence, and a not-so-healthy dash of not SFW and misogyny (from our dear Sukuna of course).

Word Count: 850.

*~*~*~*

Yuji was not wearing the clothes he usually wore. Instead of his favorite outfit which consisted of a scarlet hoodie and black sweatpants, he simply wore his briefs, sitting on the couch opposite to the bed you had slept in since the night before, loudly eating some beef jerky you and he had gotten from the convenience store yesterday. All the noise was the reason you had woken up in the first place. Choosing not to voice it, though, you attempted to go back to bed. Perhaps that was the wrong decision though, because as soon as you closed your eyes and turned to face the wall, you felt long nails grip at your shoulder, sinking deep enough to almost make you bleed. It was foolish of you to do such a thing, you realize because Yuji only bought the jerky for Sukuna.

Before you could turn around to greet him, the pain went further into your flesh, making you wince.

“Who taught you to be so rude, huh?” The voice was as cold as it always has been, being as much more gruff than Yuji’s ever could be. “Answer me.”

His breath was smokey from the beef jerky but also smelled like rotting food, the instant ramen Yuji made along with a boiled egg he swore was not too old to eat. You try your best not to gag as you start stuttering out an apology.

“N-No one…”

“Oh really?” The voice changed to that of a mockery of something tranquil, something kind. Something like Yuji’s voice. But instead of begging you to stay the night while claiming it was too dark out for a girl to be walking to her dorm room alone, it was speaking to you like you had just done something you were too dumb to realize was stupid. You suppose, in a way, that that is what you had done. 

You forgot the very first rule Sukuna had told you to never disobey when you had woken up screaming at the sight of something that looked sort of like Yuji but did not act like him at all, and now you are in for yet another trip to hell itself. 

“I told you I didn’t want another brat. I already deal with one as it is.” He lets go, and out of instinct to not get hurt more than you already will today, you turn around to face him. He looks down at you, his arms crossed and shaking his head in a mix of amusement and disappointment. “You deal with him too. You know just how big of a pain in the ass he can be. ‘Oh, [First], let me carry you to my bed! Oh, [First], I’m sorry for hitting you when I thought you were cheating on me, please come back! Oh, [First], I’m not a pervert, but wear those shorts that show off your ass for me!’ Please, it’s all pathetic, isn’t it? He’s just as bad as me.”

Not wanting to get hurt even more, you agree by nodding your head faster than necessary, you think, because as a response Sukuna laughs so loud it hurts your ears.

“Tell me, just why haven’t you left him yet then, hm? Since you’re so eager to admit I am right.” 

Your answer is whispered low, though you already know Yuji can hear you, even when Sukuna takes his turn with the body they share. “Because of you. You’d… drag me back.”

“Good girl.” The customary compliments are merely a facade just like this one, no matter who is speaking. His resentment towards you remains intact. Soon, Yuji will also harbor the same fury, as he takes his rightful turn in that vessel they both inhabit. “You haven’t even been promoted to Grade 3 yet. Quite sad, wouldn’t you say? Not that a little girl like you should be a sorcerer to begin with.”

Once again, you nod your head.

“How would you ever hope to survive me, or even outrun me, the King of Curses?”

“I… I wouldn’t.”

Another praise that is just as empty as all the ones before it. With it, the walls of Yuji’s dorm feel even more like that of a prison’s, and this room feels even more small. If these walls could talk, they would tell you to run, or at least you would hope that they would.

“That’s right. So good.” Sukuna turns to face the only window in Yuji’s dorm. You look too. The sun is going down. Did you really sleep for that long? Not that you blame yourself, dealing with Yuji during the day could be considered a full-time job after all. “You fell asleep before I could get my turn. Now, how are you going to compensate me for that when it is fully night outside?”

As the sun descends like a sharp guillotine blade, you and Sukuna share a silent understanding of the inevitable. Your legs tremble at the impending doom, for both of you are well aware of the answer.

You’ll stay, won’t you?

A Final Wish.

Yan Geto x F Reader x Yan Gojo.

Synopsis: All you want is the best for your daughter.

Warnings: Yandere themes, past kidnapping, mentions of pregnancy/not SFW, takes place a year or so before JJK 0, very, very unhealthy relationships, major power imbalances, child abandonment, and violence.

Continuation of Banquet of Massacre.

Word Count: 1.5k.

*~*~*~*

It is in a wolf’s nature to be gluttonous, but so is that of a dog’s. 

Dogs come after wolves in the theory of evolution, and with dogs comes the unselfishness to be one. However, while dogs are not as gluttonous as wolves, they still are, in other ways. They seek constant attention, negative or otherwise, and will always have the personality of a human infant, regardless of how they are brought up by their superiors.

They express their emotions with the limited range of sounds they possess, sometimes timid and shrill, other times rough and menacing. They are dogs, experts in getting what they want in their way. Their primary pursuit is garnering the affection, care, and admiration they are unable to give themselves. Isn't it beautiful, people ask and say and wonder? They depend on those in their vicinity and refuse to release their grip, for if they do, they will stumble and remain fallen.

They do nothing, yet ask for everything, much like the wolves that came before them. 

You put in the effort, while they enjoy the benefits that rightfully belong to you, rather than to them. However, you permit this arrangement because they assist you in warding off other threats, coming to your aid when you summon them, and fulfilling other tasks that you are incapable of accomplishing alone.

So, who is the dog, who is the man, and who is the wolf? Is that really up to you to decide, or is that the world’s decision, or is the question at hand supposed to be answered by the one who promised you a new life away from the one you ran away from, Satoru Gojo?

He is the same one that holds your daughter’s hand so gently, while his infinity leads you to not be able to touch him at all.

“I have to take her to kindergarten now, Satoru.”

As you state the task at hand that you must do, if you ever want your daughter to have a good life, Satoru sighs and pushes up his sunglasses. “Rina is a good name for her, I would say.”

“That… isn’t the point.”

“It means joy, doesn’t it?”

Unaware of the situation unfolding, Rina wears a constant smile, her irises almost black and squinting with sheer joy. These eyes, when glanced at by you, inadvertently bring pain, as they vividly resemble Geto’s own.

“It’s her first day, Satoru. Please let me take her, you know she… doesn’t have any friends.”

“She has me!” Satoru bursts with joy, hoisting Rina high above him and twirling her around, their laughter filling the air. You dislike how paternal he acts towards her, yet appreciate it at the same time. Being a mother was never your desire, so maybe Satoru lightens that burden for you, even though his motives are self-serving. He had extended his offer to shelter both of you a few months after your daring escape, while you were cradling baby Rina in your arms, who had just been born in an old, desolate house on the fringes of Tokyo.

You had no desire for her to fall ill, and despite everything, you remained as her mother. You intended to fulfill the role of a good mother, even if it was imposed upon you unintentionally or not by Geto. She is under your care, correct? As her mother, you would go to any lengths to ensure that Geto never discovers her existence. Does she possess the ability to perceive curses? If she does, and Geto were to discover her, she would be confined to a luxurious but restrictive environment. However, if she lacks this ability and he still becomes aware... you are uncertain of the consequences she would face. All you are certain of is that it would be something detrimental, something deeply distressing.

You are both dressed in white fleece, while Satoru wears fully black as he always has. “Let her stay. I’ll hire a tutor for her.”

Can you refuse this? Satoru possesses the demeanor of a loyal canine, whereas Geto embodies the spirit of a cunning wolf. Yet both inflict harm upon you, though in distinct manners. However, they both cause you pain. Don't they both cause you pain? They will forever remain entwined with you and with each other, connected by an unbreakable crimson thread, as they both harm you and strive to control you.

So, just as many, many times before, you bite your tongue and nod. Satoru smiles, then takes Rina back inside, down the hall to the elevators, as you follow them. “Yay, Rina! No school for you!”

“Yay!”

He presses the up button, and you resist the urge to run with Rina in your arms.

*~*~*~*

“She’s my daughter, Satoru.”

“I still don’t know why you decided to keep that brat around.” You never are used to Satoru speaking too coldly, especially when it comes to talking about Rina, but then again it only happens behind closed doors, when Rina has been put to bed for the night and all the lights are turned off aside from the one beside Satoru’s side of the bed. “Sure, she may be your biological daughter, but she is still unwanted, isn’t she? You never wanted to be a mother, so why do you want her to be with you so badly, huh?”

“She can’t survive out there, Satoru. Geto may find her too and… who knows what will happen then?”

“Is that your problem?” He grins, and it makes you almost cry more than this argument you’re having does. “I’ll tell you, it isn’t. She takes up time, money, all sorts of resources, and for what? She does nothing for us, does nothing for you.”

“She’s a child.”

“An unwanted one.”

So, who determines the roles of the dog, the man, and the wolf? Is it your decision, the world's decision, or the responsibility of the one who promised you a fresh start away from your past, Satoru Gojo?

Is your daughter truly a burden? Will she never experience happiness? Will you never find contentment? Will that be due to Rina or because of Satoru?

It is instinctual for a wolf to be voracious, just as it is for a dog.

According to the theory of evolution, dogs follow after wolves, embodying selflessness. However, while dogs may not be as gluttonous as wolves in some aspects, they still possess certain tendencies. They constantly seek attention, whether positive or negative and maintain a childlike personality, regardless of their upbringing by their superiors.

They express their emotions through a limited range of sounds, sometimes timid and high-pitched, other times aggressive and intimidating. They are skilled at manipulating situations to get what they desire, like experts in their own unique way.

Rina's core objective revolves around seeking love, support, and admiration that she cannot provide for herself. It is a captivating notion that often prompts people to ponder and discuss. Rina relies heavily on those around her and is reluctant to let go, fearing that she will falter and stay down. In many ways, she resembles the wolves of old. 

The question arises in your mind: is Rina truly a wolf or merely a dog?

Is either answer just as bad as the other?

“Let me put it this way, sweetie.” Satoru leaned in closer then, and you could smell the artificial scent of cherry in his breath. “If she stays… I will make sure Suguru Geto’s offspring never has a good life. Out there, though… Perhaps if she works enough, she’ll deserve happiness. She’s a sinner’s child, a murderer’s child, and therefore doesn’t she deserve a similar fate? If Geto’s plan succeeded, you would be tied down with him forever, you know? If he finds out about her, he will attempt to do so again.”

Your heart sinks so low you could swear it is being dissolved by stomach acid. 

“She’ll hurt you more, too, if she stays, you know. Whether Suguru finds her or not. So, what do you say? Your choice.”

Is it though, you want to ask? But you can’t. You don’t want to go back on the streets, hiding at every corner.

So, once again, you bite your tongue, and like a good dog, obey.

*~*~*~*

You don’t remember what you said. You only remember what you did, how Rina reacted.

She was crying. Screaming and begging for you to not leave her, snot and tears running down her face along with the chilly midnight air and the rain. With every step she took, you took three back, and when she touched you you kept pushing her to the wall behind the restaurant complex in the center of Tokyo. Behind the whole ordeal, Satoru’s smirk never faded.

But this was for Rina’s own good, right? Geto won’t find out about her, if you never recognize her as your child, right? She’ll be happier, and you’ll be happier too, right?

Right?

Never Let Me Down Again.

Yan Nanami x GN Reader.

Synopsis: You have been acting well, and therefore are now treated well. Kento was proud, then, before he found something under the bed that shattered everything he thought of you, everything he thought of the progress you two were making.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, some infantilization, and implied violence.

Word Count: 600.

*~*~*~*

Kento finally found out where his old satchel went, after hours of looking for it.

It was under the bed frame, behind hastily and messily put shoes, your shoes to be precise. You rarely use them because Kento never takes you outside, even though he promises he will, those vows always break. Just like how his satchel was never worn, which was cheap and only meant to serve as a bag if there was an emergency where he only could pack a few essentials before running off from danger. He often tells both himself and you that it is too dangerous, with curses around every corner whose population seems to be growing more and more each coming day. 

You’re asleep now, just above the crime that you committed. If Kento was not able to hold his anger, his sorrow at this betrayal, he would have shaken you awake already, screamed at you, because he knows that whatever could possibly be the contents of the near-forgotten pouch is not good, especially for the progress Kento thought you two were making.

Like Pandora and the Pithos Zeus had given her, he could not resist the temptation to see what was within.

What came first was packs of dried fruit and nuts. The small ones that Kento gave you for snacking, when dinner time or lunchtime was not too far away, by an hour or so. There seemed to be at least ten, so at the very least there were ten days you pretended to be hungry so you could put them in the satchel when Kento was not looking. After all, you were not allowed to go into the pantry by yourself, Kento always said that he did not want you to mess up the little organized society he made up of cans and other nonperishable foods. What came next was some cartons of sugar-free fruit juice, which made sense as Kento never has plastic disposable water bottles, preferring to use a water purifier that he keeps near the sink for both him and you to use. Both the food and the drinks you kept in hiding when Kento gave them to you as either a treat for a good job with whatever chores he gave you to do or as a snack when you got hungry when Kento was starting to make dinner or lunch or whatever other meal you two ate together. Despite thinking that you two were making progress, Kento now sees that you have lied to him, and that hurts more than the insults that you hurled his way along with the biting and scratches you gave him when he first stole you away.

Kento has always said how he despises liars, and such values are still held up tightly even when it comes down to you and the rotten words that came out of your mouth. He should wash them out with soap, until you are crying and have the urge to vomit, maybe even use the other tools at his disposal to prove that he is not just brains, but brawn too. Due to your actions, the bond between you and Kento has regressed to its initial stage. It is solely your responsibility for this setback, isn't it?

Upon discovering the concealed knife in the bag amidst everything else, Kento resolves to act according to his fury and animosity, aiming to make you regret every transgression and even regret the very day you were born.

Hayloft.

Yan Mahito x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Mahito wants to farm.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, Mahito as his own warning, implied minor character death, and implications of violence/forced cannibalism.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

“Sounds fun! Looks so too!”

Mahito’s fingers tap and tap on the glass, unsurprisingly never leaving any fingerprints or smudges. He is a curse, after all. It makes sense. Not that you have to be reminded of such, with how little he knows of human culture, the world at large, or with how much he shapeshifts into a disembodied head at night to scare half-awake you. 

You are both sitting on a giant bean bag in the shape of a green slime of all things that Mahito brought in an hour or so earlier. Mahito, as expected, takes up most of it with a malformed arm wrapped around your shoulders and back. 

In your hands is a Nintendo Switch, the sticker case on the joycons, and the screen itself somewhat peeling off, but still the pink bunny and strawberry drawing designs stay intact.

The YouTube app is on, showing a playthrough of Stardew Valley. This part of the sewers had two bars of wifi from the little ramen place above it, something you are grateful for in some aspect. Because of it, you have one more piece of entertainment that is now Mahito bringing you back stale snacks and stuffed animals (that you pray to whatever higher power that they were not alive before Mahito got his hands on them) and nearly smothering you with hugs. 

This is calming. When you just read the dialogue of the characters and listen to the music and pay attention to the satisfying sight of the farmer planting pumpkin seeds and apple tree saplings, it is calming, you are calm, Mahito is, at least partially, calm.

Mahito wanted something to watch today and brought the Nintendo Switch for you to play with as he simply observes. It could be worse, you reminded yourself before you attempted to protest, stopping yourself. It could be much worse. He could turn you into the Nintendo Switch, or much, much worse.

It can be so much worse. He can be so much worse. Your life as a captive can be so much worse. Everything can be so much worse. That is a line you never want to cross because everything can be so, so much worse than it already is.

Mahito raises his free hand, and you pause the video, just as you were taught to. He then points again at the field of two-dimensional, square-like crops all in multiple rows of hoed soil. 

It’s springtime in the game, you think, from how the cherry trees have pink blossoms and petals falling onto nearby ground all around it.

Mahito counts with his fingertip, jumping from one plant to the next and then from one row to the next.

He whistles, and it makes you flinch because that is the same noise he makes whenever you scream, a reaction to when he brings a body part of someone you loved here, throwing it down beside the small dog bed you were given for good behavior, the blood staining the fabric as it falls with a grotesque, sort of plopping sound.

If Mahito wants to grow vegetables and fruit in the few places this sewer has sunlight, he can be your guest.

“Potato, cauliflower, garlic… green beans, kale, parsnips, rhubarb, strawberries…” He says each word like he has never heard of them before. Considering he has never really set foot in a grocery or convenience store for anything other than chips, it is not all that surprising. With another wave of his hand, you rewind it to the moment where the farmer character starts watering the seeds when they are freshly planted. He waits. So do you. “Sounds good! We can make some cheese cauliflower, parsnip soup, pizza, hashbrowns… just imagine it! Yum… I can just picture it now.”

With yet another wave of his hand, you stand up and so does he. Relief goes through you, like a ghost, both horrifying you and making you feel the smallest bit of hope that for once Mahito can act normal.

…

“M-Mahito, vegetables don’t grow that fast.” You say, looking down at the plate of baked fish with what smells like kale and garlic underneath, along with lemon and salt. “H-How-”

“It’s simply the power of love!” Mahito exclaims, inhaling loudly to smell the dish in front of you two. He sighs softly. “A pure demonstration of my love, all I do for you, and all I will do for you in the future.”

You could have sworn that there was the smallest voice from the fish if Mahito’s bragging of how much work went into making you a dish from Stardew Valley was not so loud.

Help me.

“Dig in, cutie!”

You would do anything for Mahito’s grin to not turn into a frown, so you pick up your fork with trembling, scarred hands.

Secrets of Wisteria.

Yan (Serial Killer) ??? x GN Reader.

Synopsis: They don't know what to do with you.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, gender-neutral yandere, violence/mentions of gore, thoughts of murdering the reader, manipulation, implications of sex work, mentions of starvation, drugging/alcohol, stalking, and dehumanization.

Word Count: 1.3k.

insert your fav!

*~*~*~*

It is said that everything in the universe has its place as a part of a side of a never-tipping scale.

A shining star provides warmth but also burns the flesh of those who get too close. The moon resembles that of an Earth erased of all life, a planet in all but name to some, promising to be a guiding light, but in reality is just a cold, desolate land. 

Do such beautiful stars ever scorch the adjacent moons? Do such pale, blue moons ever cause the brightness of adjacent stars to die with a shallow, husky breath? Do they simply stay with one another, because despite being able to hurt one another, the chain of space forces them to stay together?

Questions that, because of you and because of them, may finally be answered. It hurts them but also entices them.

Despite everything you had been through together, you had hurt them in ways no others have ever done.

They suffer whenever they are near enough to smell your perfume, wanting to close up their nostrils, throat, and mouth before they go down in a flame of their own making. 

The perfume is mixed with the scent of others’ sweat and pleasure, staining it in what feels to be shades of a dirty, dark black. If only you could see it, the blind fool you always were and still are.

They suffer whenever they hear your voice, see the way your lips move, your moans and little gasps. It sounds more tempting than that of a siren’s call.

Your face, the way you bat your eyelashes to get what you want. Your eyes are brighter than any supernova.

Their entire being is a black hole that wants nothing more than to swallow you.

You hurt them whenever they think of you, never wanting to burn an image of you so deeply into their brain. But, like a parasite, you unknowingly persisted. Now it is so rooted, that it has replaced some of their nerves and has left them wanting so much more. They are addicted to this poison you have created and forced down their throat. It is only fair that they get to do the same to you.

They put something in your drink to make everything down the road that much easier.

Being a blind fool, you didn’t notice that your wine turned into a deep shade of pink.

Pink in your cup, and red in theirs. The colors of love.

They didn’t have it in themselves, despite all of the unfortunate souls they have banished to hell, to put cyanide in your glass.

It would have been a much more merciful death in their opinion, though. It was fitting for a rat like you. But also will give you so much less pain than those who have met their end by a torturous blade.

You gulped it down with such ease. They were, to say the least, your favorite patron, giving you no reason to doubt them.

It was so hard to make money these days, especially in a town like this. You were grateful for them.

But still, you decided to hurt them.

It’s your fault, honestly—all of it. You are the sole reason that their kills aren’t as sharp as they used to be, so much more impulsive than they used to be.

They almost got caught just the other day. They had sprung into action without a thought in their mind to go for a person who looked just like you from behind, down to the clothes they wore.

It's all your fault. It's all your fault.

Whore.

That is what they want to say.

But they cannot, not yet at least.

…

“Come, we are almost there.” With each step down the stone stairs, a water droplet falls from above, the underground tunnel’s top.

These walls are older than some dynasties if their memory recalls. Made of the bones of traitors and peasants who have passed on from much more painful pains.

It was easy to sneak some of their victims’ bodies in here and place them in such a way that no one would ever know the truth.

“Why here, my dear sponsor?” Your eyes follow the lantern in their left hand, swinging left and right like a pendulum.

They don’t answer.

You don’t ask any more questions, your limbs feeling heavy from all of the walking and the alcohol.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

The rocks below you feel like they are moving. “Sure.”

You must have gone so deep into the earth by now that you can practically see the gates of hell. The lantern’s light is almost out, and the air feels heavy and damp.

“We are almost there.”

You feel so dizzy.

They feel so elated.

Not a word is said until they suddenly stop. A split path.

They point to the left.

You wait, but they do not move.

A second. Two. Three.

Is that uncertainty they see in your eyes?

That is new. It makes them excited for what is to come next.

“Simply go down that hall and you will see the cellar… I will be right behind you.” They added that last part to quell your questioning gaze.

They have never lured anyone here alive before. But like everyone else who has seen these catacombs and their cellar, you won’t leave them alive.

They can’t leave you as much as they try.

It is only natural that they use the chain that holds you two together to their advantage for once.

Their truth works. Your second thoughts vanish like the trapdoor and the ladder down the hall, to the beginning, an entrance to a hell you will never be able to open again.

It is quite fortunate to them that you are such a blind fool.

It is quite fortunate to them that you overlooked that skeleton that looked a little too fresh.

It is quite fortunate that they are such a good planner. They didn’t starve the man for nothing, it seems.

“...Alright. But… I will get my pay after this, won’t I?”

They nod.

“Of course.” They reply. “What sort of patron would I be if I did not give you what is due?”

Such a blind fool you are.

They’ll keep you. You are simply too stupid and too tempting to be free. “...Thank you.”

Along with the words of genuine gratitude, the flame finally extinguishes.

“...Huh?”

A swift chop is the last thing you hear, your body collapsing is the last thing you feel and see before you go unconscious.

“For everything.”

They don’t drag you like they do the others, instead putting in the effort to pick you up and curl your head into their chest.

“...”

This brings back memories both bitter and sweet for them. The first time you laid on the bed. The first time you kissed them. The first time they managed to drag someone else unconscious down here, although with much less care.

“...I mean it.”

They cleaned up everything in the cellar just for you, all of the gore disposed of. Though their trophies will remain. The brain of a doctor in a jar. The eyes of a photographer. The left hand of a young widow, the ring still on the rotting finger.

It will serve as a warning to you to behave, hopefully, for your sake. Making them angry is a bad idea for everyone involved. They would hate to bandage your broken limbs and stitch you back together like some stuffed toy. 

As they hum a tune only you have heard, they think of what collar to place on that pretty neck of yours. It is an important decision. That collar will stay on you far past when you are mounted on their wall, after all. But that is years if not decades away.

“...Thank you. You made everything so much easier.”

The scale tips in favor of the pale blue moons.

*~*~*~*

Hunter x Hunter - Feitan, Hisoka, Illumi.

My Hero Academia - Dabi, Bakugou, Shigaraki, Overhaul, Enji.

Jujutsu Kaisen - Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku, Mahito, Mei Mei.

Genshin Impact - (Fatui Harbinger/Fake Archon) Scaramouche, Arlecchino, Columbina, Dottore.

Honkai Star Rail - Sparkle, (Mara Struck) Jingliu, (Mara Stuck) Blade, Kafka, Dr. Ratio.

Bungou Stray Dogs - Fyodor Dostoevsky.

Final Fantasy VII - Sephiroth.

Demon Slayer - Muzan, Sanemi.

Hazbin Hotel - Alastor, Valentino, Vox.

Twisted Wonderland - Jade, Floyd, Leona, Rook, Lilia, Vil, Jamil.

Chainsaw Man - Makima, Barem.

Baldur's Gate III - (Ascended) Astarion, Cazador, Shar, Rapheal, Minthara, Mizora, Zariel.

*~*~*~*

free pdf of the cask of amontillado if anyone's interested!

Catch a Grenade.

Yan Nanami x GN Reader.

Synopsis: You should have just left that damn satchel where you found it.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, some infantilization, humiliation/manipulation, and violence.

Word Count: 900.

Continuation of Never Let Me Down Again.

*~*~*~*

“Go.” Only one word, said so coldly yet loud enough to hear it above the stomps of Kento’s clad feet making their way down the hall. “I say this only once.”

The only reason he does not tug you is because he will surely accidentally break your wrist or your arm.

You know this from experience, all without words and all with actions.

“Since you have planned so much, you should have planned for other possibilities.” You cannot see his face because you are facing the corner of the living room, your forehead leaning against one of the walls. You cannot see his face, but you know he is furious, from the tone in his voice to the position he forced you into. He put you in the time-out corner, a corner that you have not been put into since the first month you arrived here.

The walls are a dull marigold and smell of spoiled milk. This corner also has a large white spot that is uncovered by the paint, and so you attempt to push your nose against that instead.

In what felt like months ago, you attempted to tear off the paint out of boredom. Kento was angry, but not angry enough to buy more paint to fix it.

“I do so much for you…” He says, and there is the sound of his armchair squeaking slightly. He must be sitting on it, grimacing. There isn’t any other cause to think about, not when this sound has been the only one you had heard for months, aside from Kento’s tones, the television, and your cries. Yeah. That must be it, you think. “God. What the hell were you thinking? I have work tomorrow too…”

You don’t say anything. You close your eyes and breathe in the only piece of air that does not smell so rotten. You can imagine being somewhere else, doing something else, other than being here, and being forced to stand on your tiptoes against a coat of yellow latex. Anything else.

“Answer.” He demands, and you can hear the soft sound of his right foot thumping up and down on the musty carpet floor. “Or do you want to be in more trouble than you already are?”

Out of instinct, out of a want so embedded within you, to survive, you stutter out some hardly audible words.

“You don’t have any logic in you, do you?” He sounds so disappointed, and your mind goes to the image of him having his arms crossed. “I’m right. Aren’t I?”

Your toes hurt already. But it feels like something is holding you up by your neck and forcing you to stay there. An invisible noose made of fear. An invisible weight in your chest too.

…

“I’m sorry, Kento…” You murmur, sniffling as tears and snot and drool run down your face.

“No, you’re not.” He refutes. You can hear him turn to another page of whatever he is reading.

“Please. I am… I am…” You repeat I am a few more times, feeling humiliated, like just an infant who doesn’t know their place.

A sigh. “Are you? Are you? How do I know you’re not lying, hmm? Again?”

Even the soft carpet underneath your toes feels like a bed of thorns at this point. Everything hurts.

“Please, Kento…! I am…! I am…!”

A whine escapes your lips, like a defeated dog sent off to rest in their crate without a treat: a dog, a mutt, a pet.

“Are you?” Another familiar sound of pages turning. You must have been here for hours at this point, so the thing he is reading must be quite long indeed.

So long.

You can imagine him rubbing his thumb and pointer finger into his brow area in frustration, disappointment, in apathy pretending to be sympathy. “You don’t appreciate what I do for you… Do you?”

You can feel a glare, and the ghost of something squeezing your neck to force more desperate words out of you. “P-Please, I’m-” 

You hear the squeak of Kento’s armchair again.

You feel hands, the same hands that always felt so strong, on your shoulders, and you are turned around with ease. He looks at you, but you don’t look at him. You look at his shirt, his work shirt, still halfway unbuttoned with his tie hanging loosely from the stained collar. You can smell his cologne, although it has almost fully faded away. You can remember tying it before he left for work this morning, he looked so happy that you were behaving so well for him.

You almost scream out thank yous, but then Kento ruins your small moment of happiness again.

“We aren’t done.” You see the book he was reading this whole time, it is thick and red and looks so heavy. The pain on your cheek came so fast that you didn’t even see it move. You stumble back, the back of your head hitting hard against the white spot on the wall. 

You were too focused on the pain, on crying even more, that you didn’t notice the book being raised again.

Old Friend.

Yan Kenjaku x F Reader x Yan Geto.

Synopsis: The stranger looks all too familiar, aside from three peculiar mannerisms. How his fingers creep along the table’s edge. How his voice is too soft, too kind, and not at all cruel. How there are black stitches on his forehead.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, misogyny, use of the word monkey, and descriptions of past physical/mental abuse.

Word Count: 900.

*~*~*~*

Flattery comes out from Suguru’s mouth one sentence at a time, the words themselves soothing but the tone not so. After being dressed in clothes you picked out, after being presented with food you loved before captivity, you feel as though you were just revived… reborn. This feeling is foreign and isn’t let into your heart all at once, but little bit by little bit, because you know that Suguru’s gifts are often never superficial, but you also know how fast Suguru’s temper can spew once he has had enough of your antics.

On your knees, that demand is always accompanied by Suguru’s pointer finger facing down to the floor, monkey.

Somehow that collar consistently finds its way into Suguru’s right hand, even without one of his servants giving it to him.

But yet, here and now, you don’t feel the same ominous aura. It’s something darker. Something that for once isn’t directed at you, but the servants Suguru always treated well. So, would that make his aura lighter? You’re not sure. Similar to when it comes to Suguru’s moods and false smiles and truthful lies, you don’t know what to think.

“Master Geto?” You ask, looking past him to the balcony exit behind him. With all the candles put on the table, his face looks nearly fully illuminated, but the shadow covering his eyes is still there regardless. 

“Yes, pet?” Suguru responds, his hands cupping his face as he looks at you. 

“I…” You start, your thumbs caressing one another underneath the long white tablecloth. “Just wanted to thank you… that’s all.”

Suguru chuckles at that. No. Not a chuckle per se. Some sound unknown to you, or perhaps the identity of such was forgotten by you after so many years of being here kneeling at his feet on the floor like a trained mutt. 

Speak.

I’m sorry, Master Geto.

Make it more desperate so I know you won’t make false vows unbefitting of my precious varmint. I’ll even help you. What happens when a dog attempts to hurt its owner?

“Don’t worry about it, [First] dear. You deserve a dinner such as this, for you deserve to celebrate too.” He has never said your name other than when he is displeased with you, so him doing such makes you wince. Suguru takes another sip of his sake, not paying much mind to your innate actions.

They get hit back, Master Geto.

Then what will happen to them next time, if they do it again?

Something will break.

“You look quite divine tonight,” He says, using his knife to split his remaining steak into quarters. He stabs one of the pieces with his fork and chews on it without making much noise.

“Uh…”

“Everything about you is quite beautiful… I can see you becoming my wife one day after all of this is over. That is, if you continue to be so cute and defenseless, it’s your place after all.”

What kind of thing? Speak up.

Anything. A bone… Something they like… Their spirit…

Correct… and what is that thing covering your hand?

“You’re not really eating, dearest… Is something the matter?” He asks. You find yourself questioning if Suguru's concern is genuine. After all, he has faked empathy towards you before, so this wouldn't be the first time.

“No, no… It’s good.” In order to avoid his anger, you proceed to fill your mouth with sake and sesame rice. This amuses him. Does he find your desperation endearing? That would be in character for him, now that you think about it.

A cast, Master Geto.

And what did you do to earn such a thing?

You… broke my hand, after I tried to use the pieces of that broken bedroom window to stab you.

“I’m happy you’re enjoying it.” He grins, leaning in closer. “I have an offer for you. How about we go outside for a walk after this? It has been quite some time since you have seen the full moon, hasn’t it?”

Finally, you can envision a vast expanse of twinkling stars right before your eyes. In the realm of dreams, they reside so near, immune to fading or descending. But you ponder if reality holds the same allure. It has been an eternity since you were last allowed to venture outdoors. Oh, how you yearn for a glimpse of the sky once more.

Tell me, do you think you earned such a thing?

…Yes.

Good. It seems you’re learning.

But the temptation stopped as fast as it came. Dread replaces it in an instant. 

This man isn’t Suguru. You know that much for certain. With every hell he has put you through, you have come to know him and his mannerisms. Those mannerisms are nothing like this man. The thought scares you. Is this man a curse, the same kind Suguru uses against you after every escape attempt? Or is he just a normal man who is acting like him as a placeholder of some sort?

Where… is Suguru?

“...Why are there stitches on your forehead?”

King of Infinity.

Yan (Villain) Gojo x F Reader. 

Synopsis: You don’t get the starring role. You’re partially happy about it; because you don’t have to break a leg.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships/kidnapping(?), descriptions of genocide, descriptions of corpses, manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome(ish), and degrading language against the reader.

Word Count: 1.1k.

can technically be considered a roleswap AU but up to you as geto isn’t talked about rcfncodnorjr…

*~*~*~*

“I never considered you someone who would be fond of apartments.” Satoru pushes his sunglasses up with his pointer finger as he wraps an arm around your trembling shoulders.

The same hand that holds you so very tenderly in the eyes of his followers is the same hand that turns on the lighter to envelop his cigarette in a small flame – a flame you had learned long ago to not attempt to put out, lest you would like it seared into your palm like the tattoo he forced on your neck.

‘The Star.’

“It’s a good strategy though,” Those words are the closest thing to a praise you have heard in months. They are akin to Satan reflecting on his reign of hell and comparing, considering whether or not it would be better to serve in heaven. But then he would laugh as his servants danced, not wanting any angel or God to take such bliss away from him.

Satoru had you dressed in what he considered to be the highest quality fabrics monkeys can make, while he had attire made from the sorcerers he had wrapped around his finger. Yours were not suitable for Tokyo’s snowstorms and his clothing covered up more skin than he would ever let you cover – because you aren’t him, the one he loves the most more than anything else in this beautiful world; Gojo Satoru, the special grade sorcerer that killed more than thirty thousand people in a single hour outside Jujutsu High and was never punished after that fateful evening.

You still remember that night. It is etched into your memory like a child had drawn it on a white wall. Despite everything, you will not ever be able to erase it. You will grow old and never dream of anything but him, the center of your now small universe, the only flower that is allowed to bloom under the eternal blood moon. Everything else will rot – even the earth’s shadow will not remain once Satoru’s dreams are realized. His will is all that matters now, he is the priest of the god of destruction and you are so very far below him. 

A monkey. That is where you will stay and continue to be after you rot and he steps on the soil placed on top of you so you cannot breathe or scream. Only gratitude can fall from your disgusting lips because Gojo Satoru’s only fuel is the groveling of every living creature that makes up the infinite number of galaxies. He will gladly replace your tongue with the worms who decompose you if you have more to say than that. After a while, he’ll comfort you and say that it doesn’t get too bad underneath because that is your one true purpose in life; to not speak and only do.

“You didn’t cry too much this time,” The ends of Satoru’s mouth move upwards, having the freedom to do as they please because his lips aren’t sewn shut. Yours on the other hand can hardly get something that tastes pleasant. “That’s an improvement, wouldn’t you say? I’ll be sure to get you some mochi after this mission, pet.”

You’re not sure if he is talking about the car ride here or the corpses strewn across the floor – occupants of this apartment and a poor security guard that just so happened to be in the general vicinity and heard flesh being torn apart like paper.

There are glimmers coming from the knife block in the kitchen area, the sunlight hitting them just right to make them glow a silvery hue. But the idea dies as soon as you feel its warmth – almost nonexistent because of the burning cold – and slink back into the shadows where you belong, where you are meant to be.

“I never took you to be one for planning. Usually, it is Nanami who does that.” 

A puff of smoke comes out, but you can still see his glowing eyes. You can always see them no matter what you do, even if you close your own, so you decide to imagine them as a different color; something less bright and more normal, something like black or brown. Sometimes you get away with it, and other times he somehow knows.

“I don’t mind it though.”

From across the street, you see the clocktower that stands at the gate of the nearest train station… or bus stop. You don’t care enough to remember which it was. Most likely the former though – you highly doubt any mere bus station would have a clock that large when said buses only hold less than fifty people.

“Will you miss me?” The tone in his voice is teasing, you think because his lighter isn’t on his lap or in his hand – it is on the little coffee table beside the sofa you two are sitting on. But you must still behave according to Satoru’s design because the placement of the flames can easily change. The comfort is cold, but it is better than a scorching hot truth.

“Yes.” 

The real reason you had chosen an apartment and not some corporate office that was under the thumb of the Star Religious Group was because you wanted to be somewhere that was halfway normal. It’s selfish, you know that. But the floors are aged and not polished daily, the air smells different and the heating is at its lowest setting because the owners wanted to save a bit of money. It was oh so very selfish of you. But when you are forced to be the companion of Gojo Satoru, someone who is every definition of the word, you have to combat it in a way that won’t leave your skin black and blue.

“It’s almost eleven,” Satoru groans, stretching his arms up to the ceiling. Some blood managed to get up there along with a bit of a leather shoe, probably the husband’s. You two ignore it for different reasons that are just as strong as the other. “Be good.”

When he reaches towards the table, you think he is reaching for his lighter. But with a slight detour of his hand, he opens his wallet instead. A few thousand yen is handed to you when your eyes are closed, your mind prepared for another fight or flight response. All you get is another poke of your cheek.

“You know where the market is, don’t you? The one I took you after our date last week.” 

You nod. “Would you like mochi, master?”

“No,” Satoru chuckles. “Get me something you like.”

DID YALL NOT HEAR MY DEMANDS I NEED JJK REQUESTS NOWWWW

I GOT REQUESTS!! Four more requests and then I start writing them! So put a request in quickly before I stop accepting them!

[CHAPTER UPDATE]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

This is a yandere story, so don't read it if that makes you uncomfortable!

Read Chapter 25 on Quotev! story also available on Ao3

༻story updated: september 7th, 2024༺

Not caught up? Read the first chapter here or on Quotev or Ao3!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

🔮 main masterlist ♡ story masterlist

hi do you guys remember that on yandere jjk alpha au fic where the mc is an omega and is very skinny???? like shes an overworked worker that has no friends when she grew up. i remember the characters was gojo, geto, kenjaku, nanami, yuji n sukuna ☹️☹️ pls help me i cant find it im desperate 💔

Yandere mafia sukuna au ( Jujutsu Kaisen ) maybe he falls for his favourite waitress who works at his favourite bar or cafe?

Yandere Mafia Boss! Sukuna

tw: Yandere Themes, Mafia Themes, Crime, Attempted Assault (Not by Sukuna), Violence, Broke Reader, Obsession, Possessive Behaviour, Usage of Curse Words, Mentions of Killings, Child Neglect, Punishment, Starvation, Abuse, Branding, Themes of Captivity

a/n: Okay, so this turned out darker than I intended it to be but this reflects more on how I think Yandere! Sukuna acts so it is what it is. Also, I used a new style of writing here lmk what y’all think.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna is a cruel man. The head of the infamous Ryomen crime family. An illegitimate child of his father, the former head, and a one of his many mistresses, Sukuna’s childhood was miserable. His father tossed him and his mother out on to the streets. He was forced to watch as his mother suffered in agony, too poor to afford the medicine she needed. The day of her funeral, his father came to take him in, not even sparing him a glance. From that day onwards, Sukuna swore to never allow himself to be weak again. And he kept that vow, clawing and killing his way to the top. Then when the time came, Sukuna rose up against his father and took control of the Ryomen Mafia, massacring anything and anyone who stood in his way.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna owns the entire city, having expanded exponentially since he took over. He has the media, the police, even the mayor in his pocket. Anyone who isn’t is too afraid to act against him. They’ve seen what happens to those who do. The city has an order, an order that is dictated by Sukuna. You’ve lived in this city all your life. And you’re desperate to get out of the cesspool of crime and corruption that takes place there. But you can’t do that, not yet at least. Hell, you can barely pay rent. So begrudgingly, you start to work at one of Sukuna’s many clubs. You hate it there, the uniform is too damn small; although you’re not really sure you call a pair of shorts that barely cover your ass, a top that squeezes your chest painfully, thigh-high leather boots, and fishnets a uniform, the leering gazes from perverts, and your shitty manager. But hey, the pay is decent and your dignity probably wasn’t worth that much anyways.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna boredly watches the club’s scenery. His men holler and hoot at the stripper who dances on the pole in front of them. Sukuna honestly couldn’t possibly care less. Same old dancers, same old expensive liquor, same old tarts trying to tempt him. Seriously, is there nothing exciting anymore? Has his city run dry of entertainment? Sighing irritably, Sukuna leaves, there’s nothing for him here anyways. Slinking through the backdoor of the V.I.P lounge and into an alway for a smoke. That’s when he sees you, dressed in your delicious little uniform. You’re cornered, by a low-level goon of his who just earned a promotion. Sukuna couldn’t be bothered to learn his name. He rolls his eyes, intelligence was so hard to come by these days. This idiot was trying to assault some unfortunate server in the clubs employ instead of taking one of the more well-versed participants of the act he was forcefully soliciting.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna goes to step in, that is until to kick the guy in the balls. Sukuna stares in utter shock and amusement. Who knew you had that in you? The goon howls in pain and snarls at you, promising a world of pain. Suddenly, your angry demeanour is gone, replaced by one of terror. You back up and prepare to flee. Then, Sukuna swoops in, effectively knocking the goon out from behind. He asks if you’re alright and gives his arm to hold onto so you can calm yourself. You steady your breath and thank him profusely. Sukuna coolly offers to walk you back to your car, a beat-up rusted thing, much to your embarrassment. You thank him once more before climbing into your car and driving off, leaving Sukuna intrigued.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna who’s had his interest peaked. He’s intrigued by you, that fiesty and kind spirit of yours provided him with the greatest entertainment he’s seen in years! Sukuna has his most trusted associates stalk keep tabs on you. He learns everything there is to know about, your hobbies, your likes, your dislikes, your medical information, your favourite food, even what time you go to sleep. As he delves deeper into the rabbit hole of obsession, Sukuna begins to follow you himself. A master at the act, Sukuna watches you, anytime he can. He watches you interact with the world. The way you cheerfully greet the owner of the small convenience store you frequent. How your laugh sounds as though it is a symphony from the greatest composers when you’re with your friends. The teasing smile you offer to a particularly attractive coworker that stopped coming into to work for some unknown reason the next day. And by god, Sukuna swears, you’re perfection. And he deserves nothing less.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna owns this city, so by default he owns you too. And it’s time to bring his prized possession home. Carefully, Sukuna, organizes your disappearance return to him. Anyone who’ll miss you is either bought off or scared off. The police couldn’t care less, after all, what’s one missing server to the amount of cash that they’ll be earning. And so finally, it’s time. You’re walking back to your dingy apartment, you were let go on the orders of Sukuna. He couldn’t bare to let anyone else see you in that number which was your uniform. Strangely enough, the stingy landlord allowed you to remain there, sweating and shaking as he did so. You suspiciously began to look for other jobs, because you didn’t trust the guy, but nobody was hiring. And then suddenly, like a switch, your landlord flipped and demanded that you pay all the accumulated rent. You furiously began to look and apply for jobs but was rejected every time. You’d just been rejected once more, leaving you dejected and walking back home; you had to sell your beaten up car to try and pay back your landlord. Too engrossed in your misery, you didn’t notice the men trailing you. Swiftly, one came up behind you. He quickly grabbed you and placed a chloroform cloth up to your mouth and nose before you had a chance to react. You went out like a light and the men loaded you up in a van to be delivered to their boss.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna is incredibly pleased to finally have you. You’re unconscious, tucked under the expensive sheets on the luxurious bed within the extravagant room Sukuna prepared for you. Sukuna hums as he gently holds your chin, tilting it up with four fingers, using his thumb to softly rub circles on your cheek, then tracing it down to your lips. You look so serene, steady, slow, breaths, your hair splayed across the pillows, and wearing the customized silk pyjamas he bought for you. You’re finally where you belong, with him. When you awake, you’re confused. Your bed has never felt this soft before. Then you look around the room, this isn’t your room. Panicking, you try to jump out of the bed, only to find that you’re bound to the bed with chains, the cuffs are padded softly though. You pull at the chains but your efforts remain fruitless.

“So you’ve finally awaken, hm?”

Freezing upon hearing that slightly familiar voice, you turn your gaze towards the directions of its owner. Your eyes widened and your throat dried, it was the man who saved you.

“You! Did you do this to me?!” You demanded as his eyes bored into yours.

“As in returning you to where you belong? Yes, I did.”

“What the hell are you talking about,” you snarled.

“Quite,” he ordered, dropping his neutral tone for a more menacing one. “You’re mine, I saved you didn’t I? You should repay the favour.”

“Let me go!” You cry, struggling with all your might. “Please,” you beg as you finally break, beginning to sob.

“Enough, there’s no need for that. As long as you behave, you’ll be rewarded.” Your captor says gruffly before stalking out of the room, leaving you to wail and beg for release.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna stays true to his word. As long as you ‘behave’ or do as he says, you live better than you ever could’ve. You eat gourmet food and drink rich, costly alcohol; that you consume in copious amounts in an effort to forget where you are and how you got there. Your wardrobe, although chosen to be suited to Sukuna’s taste rather than yours, is filled with luxurious clothes and items you never would’ve been able to afford. Yet nobody can put a price on freedom, and to be free is all you want. Any escape attempt is futile, you cannot bribe the guards meticulously watching you. And even if you were to slip past the guards eyes, you’d be caught in a number of minutes. All that results in is the torture and murder of guards and in you being punished.

Mafia Boss! Sukuna takes a sadistic pleasure in punishing you. Of course, he likes when you’re docile but he adores your fiesty spirit. It’s really more of an ownership thing to be honest. Nobody else can touch you; Sukuna is the king of the world and you are his consort, his and his only. His to love and his to punish. Punishments can range from starvation to broken bones, all fit in accordance with his mood. But don’t worry, none of it is permanent. Well, most of it isn’t permanent, the brand labeled ‘Property of Sukuna’ looks absolutely gorgeous burned into your skin! Oh, how delicious your cries and pleas were. Otherwise, Sukuna is wonderful towards you, all your wishes, save your freedom, are granted. You live in comfort, it only being cast aside for Sukuna’s pleasure. Afterall, he’s your saviour, so shouldn’t you be a bit more considerate?

Yandere Kyoto Tech First + Second Years Reacting To Reader Trying To Leave Them

tw: captivity, gaslighting(?), yandere themes

Yuji Itadori- Oh, he’d be so utterly heartbroken, poor sweet boy. He’s so distraught, wondering what he did wrong and how he can fix it. You know he loves you right? Why do you want to leave? Isn’t he enough? He understands that you want freedom, but he can’t let you go. Not with curses lurking at every corner, not after what happened to Junpei. All he wants is to keep you safe, why can’t you understand that? He tries to reason with you, he really does try. But when you move to leave, he tightly grips your wrist and pulls you deeper into the house in which he keeps you. No matter how hard you struggle, he’s just too strong for you. Guiltily, Yuji drags you into a room, which he then locks you in. You pound on the door, screeching and yelling. And as guilty as he feels, he can’t let you out. It’s all for your own good, you’ll understand eventually.

Megumi Fushiguro- He was expecting it, to be honest. Megumi isn’t a delusional yandere. He knows that you want freedom, to live your life as you choose. And how he desperately wants to give you that, to live a normal life with you. In the beginning, he did try. But the world you live in is filled with danger and you aren’t strong enough to protect yourself, so he’ll do it for you. You pitch a fit of course. So stubborn, a trait that Megumi loves but right now doesn’t have the patience for. He quickly knocks you out before you can register what is happening. When you wake up you’re in a locked room, with no windows or any way out. It pains Megumi to do this but he won’t let you put yourself in danger.

Nobara Kuigasaki- She definitely has a lot less patience than Megumi and Yuji. She immediately starts yelling at you, demanding if you know what you’re doing. You clearly don’t if you’re trying to leave. Do you not understand how dangerous it is out there? Do you not get that you’re too weak to protect yourself? Nobara and you argue for what seems like hours, leaving you both red-faced, with tears of frustration building up in the corners of your eyes. You’re exhausted, so is she. All she wants is for you to be safe, so please, let her do protect you. And despite having less patience than both Yuuji and Megumi, she’s the only yandere who can truly get through to her darling. So you both compromise, you’ll get your freedom so long that you allow her to train and accompany you, and you’ll allow her to do so, because you really do both love each other.

Toge Inumaki- He is probably the most infuriating yandere to have. I mean he just kind of stands in front of you, completely deadpan. It’s like arguing with a wall. You can scream and shout, and beg and plead all you like, he just stares at you with the most bored expression. You’re so frustrated at the end, but you’ve exhausted yourself to the point of tears. At this point, Toge simply says stay. Even though you don’t want too, you can’t resist his cursed speech.

Maki Zenin- Similarly to Toge and Megumi, she knew this was coming and doesn’t care that it’s happening. You aren’t leaving, it’s as simple as that. You’re weak, not an ounce of strength residing in you. And you expect to be able to survive in the world? She just sighs and ends up dragging you to a locked room that’s going to be your new home for the rest of your life. Maki doesn’t care how hard you protest or how much you cry and beg. She’s not going to let you be taken from her, never.