#yan an aesthetic

[hisenemy]

How was your day?

[zennotixs]

[yanstuffy]

Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. Ruin me. R̶̞͉̮̣̪̊̄̑͋̇̆̕͝͝ǘ̴͚̠̻̗͚͗ͅḯ̶̺͇̘̱n̵̡̮͙̱̤̲̪̩͍̆͛̈́͋͋͆͆͗̔͘ͅ ̷̩̤̝̰̲͈͇͆͗̕͜m̷̨̧̠̥͓͈͎̤̼͓̀͒̒͒̿̎̂̏̒͗ê̶͉͇̜̮͓̝̜̱̯̄̈͐̅̀̽͆̓̈.̴͖̭̞͈̭̜̳̈́͊̋̏̅͛͗̉̏ ̷͎͖̻͇͕͇͉͙̽̃͆̌̎̊̿̓̓̕R̸̤̤͙͍͙̦̓̈̊͛̈́̍͑u̴̡̨̧̥̽̈́̀́̏̅͒͊i̶̗͔͍̟̯̔ņ̶̛͓̦͈͖̦͇̺͎̾͆͗͗̏̆̓̈́̀ ̶̞̖̣͙͔̥̗̠̠̐̿̈͗͒̾m̴̹̠̻̱̤͕͖̖̍͑̀͆̌͋́̋̈́͠ḛ̶͖̦̮̹̩͙̆̔̋̚.̶̨̨̖̩̘͍͚̜̻̊̃̔̀̊͐ ̶̡͍͔͈̙̩̀͑̐̊͛̍͠R̴̨̻̱̘͂̏̽͐̈̾u̷̙̰̮̲̱̜̼̮̓̽̽́̽̚ị̸̙̃̀͜ͅn̸͖̳̖̥͉͗̅̉͒͑͒̇̃̈͒ ̷̳͖͓̯̱̐́̽̑̚m̵̫̮̆̑̍̊͜ḙ̸̭̻͎̺̳͎̱̈́͠.̴̝̞́͌̽̑́̋͆͝ ̵̡̨̟̼̼̻̰̻̊̍̋̀̐̃̃̄ͅṚ̶̰̹̠̟͚͈̐̏̊͊̋͗̊̚u̴̗͎͇̗͌̄̑̃̀̿̔͜͠i̴̟̓̈́̿͆͗͝n̷̦̯͔̥̖̦͂̄̉͑͌ͅ ̷̨̘̙̟͎̹̝̣̔͐̔m̷͎̺̲̃͗̚ę̸͙͕͙̀̕.̵̧̝͊̔̇̍́͑͛̓̽͝ ̶̧̠̯̤͙̣̯̜̗͌̈́̀̊͐͒͠͝͝R̷̼̹̉̑̎͌ų̸̪̮̖̬̈́̈́͑̆̅̔̕̕͜͠͝i̶̮̋̈̈́̽̅͝͝n̴̰͒͆͛̇ ̵͉̮́̋͜͝m̴̖͚̺̯͉̆e̷͎̣̰̩͓̹͕͋̊̉͒͝.̶̡̞̘͕͙̪͖̼̬̃̈́́̚ ̷̪͙̩͈͍̙̦͖̙̾R̶͕͇̘͒̑̍͘ư̵͇̣͉̪̻̇̓͗͂̇̆͘͘͜͜i̵̠̦͔̮̤̞̖̣̽̍̎͜n̷̢̨̻̖̰̲͐̏́͂̌ͅ ̷̳̮͔͕͙̈̋͊̀͂̀̍m̸̢̟̪̋̕͠é̵̳̆̄̏̀̀̈́.̶̢̱̮̫̳̗̠͛̈́̈̽̍̍̂ ̴̫̦̬̻̣̯̘̞̆̄̇͆̅̿͋͒͝R̴̡̭̭͑̅͘͝ú̶̡̨͇̙̪̰̱̳̟͊̉̒̍̓̍͋i̷̢̢͕̰̩͖̮͙͗́̃̏̍͜͜͠n̵̛̰̩̼̥̦̼͊̐̍̊̕ ̴̙͚̦̞͈̖̖̬̱͋̍͝ͅm̵̖̝̙̦̬̐̽̊̆͋̌̔e̶̖͖̅̂̊̊̒̋͗̚.̸͈̯̝̟͑ ̷̧͖͕̱̫̯͖̎̃̀̇͐͘R̷̗̖̱̜͙̤̀̇́̏̀u̴̢̱̪͙̞̳̱͉͌̓͌͝ͅí̸̛̩̤͇̇͗͋͋̚͝͝n̶̛̞̞͉̾̽́ ̴̗̮͖̤̻̱͘ͅṁ̵̨̢̖̟͕̍̈̀̀̈́͐̅̈͘ȩ̵͓̫̙͌͝.̵̩̽̄̇̏̈̓R̶̞͉̮̣̪̊̄̑͋̇̆̕͝͝ǘ̴͚̠̻̗͚͗ͅḯ̶̺͇̘̱n̵̡̮͙̱̤̲̪̩͍̆͛̈́͋͋͆͆͗̔͘ͅ ̷̩̤̝̰̲͈͇͆͗̕͜m̷̨̧̠̥͓͈͎̤̼͓̀͒̒͒̿̎̂̏̒͗ê̶͉͇̜̮͓̝̜̱̯̄̈͐̅̀̽͆̓̈.̴͖̭̞͈̭̜̳̈́͊̋̏̅͛͗̉̏ ̷͎͖̻͇͕͇͉͙̽̃͆̌̎̊̿̓̓̕R̸̤̤͙͍͙̦̓̈̊͛̈́̍͑u̴̡̨̧̥̽̈́̀́̏̅͒͊i̶̗͔͍̟̯̔ņ̶̛͓̦͈͖̦͇̺͎̾͆͗͗̏̆̓̈́̀ ̶̞̖̣͙͔̥̗̠̠̐̿̈͗͒̾m̴̹̠̻̱̤͕͖̖̍͑̀͆̌͋́̋̈́͠ḛ̶͖̦̮̹̩͙̆̔̋̚.̶̨̨̖̩̘͍͚̜̻̊̃̔̀̊͐ ̶͍͔͈̙̀͑̐̊͛̍͠��̡R̴̨̻̱̘͂̏̽͐̈̾u̷̙̰̮̲̱̜̼̮̓̽̽́̽̚ị̸̙̃̀͜ͅn̸͖̳̖̥͉͗̅̉͒͑͒̇̃̈͒ ̷̳͖͓̯̱̐́̽̑̚m̵̫̮̆̑̍̊͜ḙ̸̭̻͎̺̳͎̱̈́͠.̴̝̞́͌̽̑́̋͆͝ ̵̡̨̟̼̼̻̰̻̊̍̋̀̐̃̃̄ͅṚ̶̰̹̠̟͚͈̐̏̊͊̋͗̊̚u̴̗͎͇̗͌̄̑̃̀̿̔͜͠i̴̟̓̈́̿͆͗͝n̷̦̯͔̥̖̦͂̄̉͑͌ͅ ̷̨̘̙̟͎̹̝̣̔͐̔m̷͎̺̲̃͗̚ę̸͙͕͙̀̕.̵̧̝͊̔̇̍́͑͛̓̽͝ ̶̧̠̯̤͙̣̯̜̗͌̈́̀̊͐͒͠͝͝R̷̼̹̉̑̎͌ų̸̪̮̖̬̈́̈́͑̆̅̔̕̕͜͠͝i̶̮̋̈̈́̽̅͝͝n̴̰͒͆͛̇ ̵͉̮́̋͜͝m̴̖͚̺̯͉̆e̷͎̣̰̩͓̹͕͋̊̉͒͝.̶̡̞̘͕͙̪͖̼̬̃̈́́̚ ̷̪͙̩͈͍̙̦͖̙̾R̶͕͇̘͒̑̍͘ư̵͇̣͉̪̻̇̓͗͂̇̆͘͘͜͜i̵̠̦͔̮̤̞̖̣̽̍̎͜n̷̢̨̻̖̰̲͐̏́͂̌ͅ ̷̳̮͔͕͙̈̋͊̀͂̀̍m̸̢̟̪̋̕͠é̵̳̆̄̏̀̀̈́.̶̢̱̮̫̳̗̠͛̈́̈̽̍̍̂ ̴̫̦̬̻̣̯̘̞̆̄̇͆̅̿͋͒͝R̴̡̭̭͑̅͘͝ú̶̡̨͇̙̪̰̱̳̟͊̉̒̍̓̍͋i̷̢̢͕̰̩͖̮͙͗́̃̏̍͜͜͠n̵̛̰̩̼̥̦̼͊̐̍̊̕ ̴̙͚̦̞͈̖̖̬̱͋̍͝ͅm̵̖̝̙̦̬̐̽̊̆͋̌̔e̶̖͖̅̂̊̊̒̋͗̚.̸͈̯̝̟͑ ̷̧͖͕̱̫̯͖̎̃̀̇͐͘R̷̗̖̱̜͙̤̀̇́̏̀u̴̢̱̪͙̞̳̱͉͌̓͌͝ͅí̸̛̩̤͇̇͗͋͋̚͝͝n̶̛̞̞͉̾̽́ ̴̗̮͖̤̻̱͘ͅṁ̵̨̢̖̟͕̍̈̀̀̈́͐̅̈͘ȩ̵͓̫̙͌͝.̵̩̽̄̇̏̈̓

[rxmye]

hello!! can you make hcs about a desperate yandere? thank you so much!! 🫶

" 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 . . " — desperate yandere headcanons . . masterlist | requesting rules . .

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / yandere content / pathetic yandere / obsessive and delusional behavior / worshipping / suggestive (?) content / kind of culty behavior tbh /

Desperate yandere, who's willing to do anything for an ounce of your attention, who's willing to dig through the trashcan for hours just to find something that he can preserve, yanderes who have they're time solely devoted to you and things that can impress you.

Desperate yandere, who go so far as to memorize your schedule, habits, just to catch a glimpse of you while your walking through a certain street or hall . . desperate yandere's who'll never get tired of the noises you make, the pattern of your breathing, the sound of you walking, the way you sigh when something bad or inconvenient happens . . the face you make when you see them . .

Desperate yandere, who crave every inch of you, who can't get enough of you . . Who's hyperaware of your presence, your voice, your touch, the little things you do, the way your facial expressions change ever so slightly when you're upset.

Desperate yandere, who's willing to change so much for you, finding your playlists, memorizing your taste in music, finding out your favorite foods, forcing himself to like and enjoy it, just as much as you do . . letting every one of your interests become one with himself, letting himself be so consumed in you, that he almost forgets who he is entirely . . because what is he, if not loving you . .

Desperate yandere, a yandere so involved in you that he loses himself, one who can only think of you, it's no wonder that they're such a madman, who wouldn't be, when you're the only thought that he allows to rot his already rotten mind, corrupting him whole. . You are his demon and his angel, all at once, you are everything.

A yandere so desperate, that he finds himself slowly growing detached from himself, watching you from a distance no longer satisfying him, a yandere who's so consumed in his delusions that he finds his way into your live, creeping into every edge and corner of your very being, as you did to his, if you could ruin him, corrupt him, bend him to your whims . . . isn't it only fair for you to cleanse him of his suffering as well?

A desperate yandere, who's vision of life is distorted, who see's you as a being so above those around him, a Godly figure, a deity, if you're a saint then he is your servant, and if you're the devil . . then he's your slave.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[the-dread-quinn]

[running-with-kn1ves]

hii! i wanted to ask if you could do a yandere kidnapper x yandere darling? like rich depressed yan that can't imagine living without their darling and ended up taking drastic action, only to find out that darling is way more insane and obsessed passionate than they thought

A/N: I've never been super big on the yan x yan trope but I think this came out kinda cool! Hope this is what you were looking for <3

Synopsis: Sneaking into your beloved's bedroom bent on getting pictures for your stash, you're quickly found by him, who's surprisingly enthusiastic to find you breaking in.

CW: Kidnapping, mutual obsession, shrine dedications, murder (offscreen lol)

WC:3000+

“Nice… new pics for the blog.” 

Your camera click click clicked with a shutter noise each time you rapid fired its capture button, eye so close to the screen you might as well be looking through the viewfinder solely itself. 

“I can see it now… his unkept bedroom revealed, beautiful little face plastered beside this… heap.” 

You looked at the pile of dirty clothes that had yet to be picked up by the estate's cleaning ladies. Well, if you were as filthy rich as he was, you’d probably do the same. Who would waste time cleaning their room when you have the whole world to see? Or in his case, a million press conferences to attend. 

Your eye was drawn to a slightly ajar closet, an odd lock seeming to have been hastily unfastened, now leaving the doors peeking open. Something red was inside. Oh boy, you could hardly contain your excitement. 

What kind of secrets would the famous, wealthy heir Elijah Walsh have in his teensy private closet? Mayhaps some drag dress up that no fan would expect? Dead bodies? Or even, the rumored cocaine stash his poor daddy was accused of hiding? 

You knew Elijah like the back of your hand, unable to imagine any kind of hidden truths that you haven't already discovered. For you, a superfan, (and ultimately, the soulmate he doesn't know about yet) were aware of far more than the average tabloid who didn’t cross trespassing boundaries for love like you had. 

You ripped open the doors without hesitation, snapping pics before even turning the light on. 

But what you saw, was something you weren’t sure you’d want to keep on camera. 

It was you. Well, a picture of you, from some yearbook or singled-out group shot that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact year from. Around your awkward grinning face was a series of items, pinned on a pretty red board like it was a crime scene of sorts. Or maybe… a shrine?

“What the f… is that my underwear??” You looked at the old pair of stretched out undies you had since middle school. Definitely not the pair you’d want some kind of stalker or investigator to get their hands on. 

You saw a few old chapsticks taped to the board, one of which you had been searching for in some old bag you swore you left it in. “I was looking for those!” You grabbed the chapstick and a broken brush, the exact same you thought you had thrown away months ago. 

Out of all the things you hoped to find-- used Q-tips, one of his musky jackets, maybe even some dark sex toys-- this wasn’t on your list. But you couldn’t help the spike in your heart, the flutter that made your toes point inward. 

You had been running this journalist (really a stalker-ish) blog on Elijah since before he got big in the press. You went to the same elementary school and for a short time in middle school, and ever since you couldn’t get his name out of your head. Now, you had a justified reason to keep tabs on him, since his family was currently in the public eye for a variety of deeds. 

Along with professing your obsession with him since childhood, your blog dated the shocking events of his controversies--  keeping it all under an anonymous pen name, of course. You had information news sites couldn’t get their hands on; the dedication you put into watching him was a trait of pride you could never let go. 

Memories of him comforted you at night, and seeing his pretty face in the grocery store magazines hoarded under your bed made you drift off to daydream land where, maybe, you’d be more than just some heavy breathing keyboard jammer fawning over him from a distance.. 

And here was, you. Your things. In his room. Even from the times you climbed the tree beside his window, you never saw this… anomaly of items. 

“What’s this even… mean.” You whispered, dumfounded and growing antsy. Elijah would be coming back now any second, the route of his driver dinging on your phone. 

‘Wait.. does he, know? That I’ve been watching him? Is this all evidence to… incriminate me??’

Worry was creeping up inside of you. But there was no time, not when a heavy vase clunked against your head from behind, letting out a resounding ‘crack!’ from the contact. The chapstick fell from your fingers, camera sliding with you as it lingered loose around your neck. 

The last thing you could think of before darkness hit, was ‘man, I hope I don’t fall on my camera… can’t replace it again. ‘

The unconscious darkness blinding your eyes was snuffed out what seemed hours later, replaced by a buzzing yellow light hanging from the ceiling. You groaned outloud, feeling groggy; an aching pain throbbed in your slumped neck and a sore bump on your scalp. 

‘Got a killer headache…’ 

You tried to pull your hands up to the bump to feel for a bruise, but fell flat with your arms tucked behind your back. You jerked them around, not realizing that they in fact were stuck together-- tied by rope, or some kind of fabric. 

“Thank god, you’re awake. Thought maybe I hit you too hard-- I don’t know what i’d do if that happened.” A familiar voice rang out in the musty, echoing room. 

“What…?” You croaked, trying to look up without facing the wrath of your headache the more light entered your eyes.

“Here, drink some water.” 

A bottle came in front of you, so close to your lips all you had to do was bend down to touch it. You did so without thinking, tasting the sandpaper of a tongue you were stuck with. As soon as the cool water touched your throat, you thought about potential poisoning. Who was this person bottle-feeding you water, why couldn’t you do it yourself?? 

You were too thirsty to care about the consequences, gulping it down as the bottle lifted higher to accommodate you. 

Letting out a pant, you sat back, trying to rub water off your lip with a shoulder shimmy. 

“Where am I? What’s going on--” It all started to come back to you, being in Elijah’s room, trespassing on private property, seeing the closet hoard of you. “Wait, please don’t report me, I promise it isn’t what you think it was…”

“Report you?” The masculine tone scoffed, a hand falling to your shoulder. “I was worried I’d never get a chance like this… you made it so easy, how’d you get in? The window?”

“...Yeah.” You sheepishly replied, looking up at your captor. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

Oh shit. That was Elijah right in front of you. In the flesh, pretty pearly teeth grinning only inches away from your face as his hand rested on your left shoulder, gently massaging it.

“Is your head okay? I feel bad but.. I wasn’t thinking, could only think about how to keep you here.”

Keep you here? Oh no, does that mean the police are on their way??

“Now.. I don’t have to worry about sending people out to your apartment anymore.. No more security cameras, no more blackmail… just you.” He stroked the side of your cheek that was inflamed from falling against the floor. “Damn. I thought i’d have to go through the trouble of taking you in the middle of the night, I had just sent my driver out for my tools too- but, looks like that’s not even an issue anymore!”

Well, sounds like your fears about the cops was no where near the truth. But now, you were even more confused. Taking you? Stalking? Blackmail? It almost felt like you were listening to yourself talk for a second. 

Behind the dark glare covering his eyes, you could see Elijah’s trademark dimples, his pinkish lips covering the slight overbite he had, constantly showing off his front few teeth. You knew those downturned eyes were there somewhere, even with their shine dulled by the shadows of what looked to be a dark cellar around you. 

His hair was unkempt, thick, dark strands covering his ears and going so far to the base of his neck. Wow, you had never seen him look so scruffy, even when watching from outside, seeing him brush his teeth in shirtless pajamas. He looked worried, shirt untucked and pants wrinkled as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“And I’m sorry to say.. But don’t even think about trying to run away now. I made up my mind long ago, and if I find out that--”

“Urk, I wasn’t planning on it. I saw, the uh, dedication board. Or, shrine?”

At that, Elijah stopped. His baby blue eyes went wide for a moment, forgetting that was where he originally found you until now. 

You hid your head down in discomfort.  

“I have the same one…of you, in my apartment… in a box under my bed. There’s even a piece of hair from middleschool that I c..ut, from you.” You held back a nauseous gag at the admission. But here you were, this was your chance to prove how much you loved him, how much dedication you put towards understanding his every move, every like and dislike, the intricacies of his family history. “Do you know why I was in your room?” You asked, wondering if he already had seen your worship blog. 

Elijah took a step back, lowering to sit on a pulled out fold-up chair across from you. His knees touched yours, still dressed in his black slacks and matching loafers, rolled up sleeves on his cream-colored button up that showed he had taken liberties to get more comfortable for the night. 

“I’ll be honest I hadn’t contemplated that… just about how perfect of a chance it was, that you-- my uh, small, obsession since fifth grade.. Was here.” He looked down, a small red tint creeping from his cheeks to the rest of his face. He was bright crimson, like a kid again confessing to his crush behind the bleachers. “But you remember me?? From so long ago? I can’t… Its hard to imagine, i’ve been watching you for years and thought you had completely forgotten about me.”

“Are you kidding?” You watched Elijah rub his eyes, trying to hide his face behind his knuckles. “You’re all over the news, even if I wanted to avoid you. But I haven’t stopped following your every move since, I can’t remember. Every house change, new school, shopping trip with your mother… anytime I was free I dedicated it to watching you, or my--”

You cut yourself off, stepping one foot off into the deep end on a subject you desperately wanted kept hidden. 

“If I knew any better I’d say you sound like a bit of a stalker.” Elijah tried to hide his grin behind his hand, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “What were you going to say?”

“My…blog.” 

“Blog?” He parroted. 

“It’s a…. Dedication blog. To you.”

“Oh, like an obsessed fan?” He jeered, laughing with bright teeth as he braced his shaking from on his knee.  “Don’t tell me-- you snuck in here for content to your blog?”

“No-! Well, yes. But some of it was going in my private stash…” You pouted, knowing you’d never get that chance again now that you’ve been discovered. Your days of fawning were going to come to a close. 

“So you must be the one who keeps finding a way to get pictures when I never see any reporters around. By, breaking into my home.” 

“That sounds really bad.. But I promise I wasn’t going to try to steal, or hurt you!”

That only made him laugh harder.

“I can’t… can’t believe I never saw you..” He wheezed, face flushed as you sat rotting in embarrassment and shame. “I had drivers chase after you for hours when you disappeared-- but you were five steps behind me the entire time!”

Drivers… your brain clicked two and two together as he tried to stop from giggling while hunched over. 

“...Drivers?” You question. No way this is what yout thought it was.”So you’ve been spying on me?”

“Don’t sound so offended, little stalker,” He settled down, a permanent smile still on his mouth as he dragged the steel chair somehow closer. “ You’ve been hard to catch, but i’ve been keeping tabs on you, as unseemingly as it is. I couldn’t do it myself but I wanted to make sure you were, okay. Before it was safe to bring you home. Though I had nothing to fear about you forgetting me at all!”

You swallowed, mouth having gone back to a dry desert as you contemplated what this all meant. YOUR Elijah was spying on you in your home? Sending out underlings to watch and make sure you were safe? The man who you’d lay your life down for? You fantasized, imagining him at your window, you-- freshly out of the shower…

“What do you mean by home? You don’t mean.. Here, in the estate, right?”

Elijah observed you so fully, it made you nervous. He had never given someone this much attention in interviews, nonetheless in the photos and videos you managed to snap of him alone. And he was looking at you, with those eyes. 

You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Smelling his sandalwood with his knees pressing against yours, his finely ironed shirt toned against him-- right here, in the flesh. You always thought you’d be at a distance, never able to come in contact with him.. And now, you were tied up in his family’s wine cellar. 

“Of course my darling. Where else? I can’t possibly send you back to that dungeon of an apartment. And you,” He stood, intent on coming closer. “Came in so willingly, huh? Didn’t think you’d return my love so… earnestly.”

“W-well who said anything about staying?” You sputtered, looking at his eyes glower in an exceedingly dark fashion. “I mean…. You love me? I’d accepted I’d never be seen by you but… you’ve been watching, the entire time?”

He stood up from his chair with a slight creak, causing your neck to strain upwards to look at him. A small touch caressed the end of your chin, his finger smoothening as it lifted your head to meet his gaze. 

He hummed, Elijah’s eyes full of an expression you’ve never seen him wear before. Something in the mix of a sentimental possession, and a lover. But it was so tender, you couldn’t look away. It was so safe, so familiar. You recognized that look in the mirror, visible in your own eyes when you planted kisses on his printed photo taped to your vanity. 

“Haven’t been able to keep you off my mind since you plucked that leaf off of my spoiled head. Love doesn’t even begin to describe it. I need, you.” 

His gaze was so genuine, your eyes soothed by the glazed over grin he gave you, leaning down to hunch on his knees to be closer to you. 

“I…” You breathed, wondering if this was a dream. “I’ve wanted you to see me.. for so long. Is this real?” 

You stopped working. There was no chance that he had been watching you, wondering and waiting for you to recognize him, when you were longing for his attention, having convinced yourself long ago you’d only be able to possess him from a distance. 

Soft fingers that hadn’t worked a day in their lives creeped up your knees, Elijah’s face only inches away as his eyelids lowed, looking sultry as he watched you squirm. 

“I pray it’s not.” He exhaled. 

“...Well, I’m not staying tied up in this chair, no matter how much you beg. Though… I can’t say I’d mind staying with you. Being with you.. Here, together.”

“Good. It wasn’t really a matter of choice, anyway.” He grinned, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek. 

You involuntarily hummed in content, pressing closer to his lips as you arched out of the chair, longing to touch his warm body. He was kissing you; somebody get you out of these ropes before you jump the man. 

Elijah couldn’t help but grin like a maniac, drugged on the way you relished his touch and pressed your chest forward to him. He rushed kisses to your chin, bites to your ear and licks to your neck with a groan. 

But a sudden stop brought your blissfully closed eyes to an open. 

“I’m sorry… want you too much, it’s getting to the better of me.”

“I’m not sorry,” You mumble, hoping that if this was a dream, you wouldn’t ever wake up. “Please, don’t stop.. I’ve killed for this, don’t stop now.”

“You tempt me too much,” He chuckles, gripping the sides of your chair seat to stablize himself leering over you. “So lucky you were my little creepy stalker, and no one else’s. Wouldn’t be able to control myself otherwise.”

“Stalker, murderer of your old lovers… I have many names.” You joked, but the bitterness on your tongue remembering those placeholders you got rid of was sour. 

“Many talents, too.” Elijah’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the one that caused my fiances to dissapear? I wondered how they kept doing that,” He looked keenly, seeing right through your little ‘joke’. “Even I couldn’t shoo my mothers’ arranged partners away.”

You tried to look away, embarrassment showing on the way you bit your lips clean and your heartbeat wrapped. “I did it in your name….  I couldn’t stand them thinking they were worth being so close and casual with you! It was infuriating every time I saw it I-- I just  couldn’t take it anymore. Even if it meant I’d never have you.” 

Elijah buried himself in your hair, holding you tight. The squeeze was so personable, hungry and desperate to hold all of you.

 “You have me now, you have me completely. I want you-- what a favor you have done, and you hadn’t even known.”

It felt so good, praised for such hard and hateful work you carried out. Their bodies were mangled, your rage manifesting in the corpses buried under the old golf course near your dingy apartment complex-- and he was happy you did it. Oh, you wanted to hold him, to smell him fully. These binds were stopping you from caressing the lover, the dream you had fantasized holding you to sleep so often, spooning the jackets and dresshirts of his musk in replacement for comfort. 

Elijah still snickered in your ear, playing with the tips of your hair.

“But now, I have to see this blog. I’m too curious-- though I can’t say seeing it will help my small obsession for you. A stalking blog-- too cute.”

You were still so shameful of it, now that he brought it up. You didn’t want your soulmate to see the virtual shrine you had dedicated to him, your unseemly thoughts and hungry urges that were far too detailed and graphic to be shared with their perpetrator. But what choice did you have? He’d find it, one way or another. 

“F..fine. But you’d you atleast untie me now? My arms are getting sore.”

That seemed to cease his light-hearted expression, frowning against your skull as he inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. It was the same as he remembered, now a decade later. 

“You’re not gonna try to leave, are you?” He murmured, caressing pinching your ear with a light tone. But something dangerous was held behind it. It was frightening.. But oh, as if the possessiveness didn’t fuel how much more your insides craved him. 

“Do you think I’d really try to go anywhere? Not when you’re so accessible to me now.” You looked over. Elijah’s lashes looked so long up close, sweetly deadpanned eyes watching as if you were being tested, hunted. 

He seemed to find your answer appealing, getting up and pulling something out of his back pocket. Leaning down once more, you saw the switchblade bobbing between his hands, a pretty and simple hunting blade. He leaned over you, pressing it against the knot above your wrists. 

You focused on feeling for the blade as to not get cut, only for your attention to be pulled back to the spoiled one-percenters lips pressing yours directly. It was a shock, more than anything. You wished you had seen it coming, wish you had been better prepared to share your first kiss with your darling! 

Elijah left your mouth nowhere to run as he pressed up against you, fervidly ensnaring your lips between his.

You gladly accepted the pull away for a second kiss, leaning up as much as you could while hiding your desperation. He was so soft, lips gentle and big as they enveloped your bitten ones. 

“Sorry,” Elijah broke away slowly, not straying far. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” You watched his eyes stare wonders at your lips, fingers brushing against your trapped ones from behind as the task at hand was forgotten. 

“Me too.” You uttered, pulling forward to kiss him again with an open, insatiable mouth. 

[salmonellr]

[yanderex0]

[yanteetle]

So I’m like hella new to tumblr so idk if I’m doing this right but I saw your art and instantly fell in love. God you’re talented. If I may so humbly request, I am dying for a vampire Mikey. 🙏🏻 only if you want to of course. Remember to take breaks and tend for your health and happiness above all else.

"Sorry about that... you'll forgive me, riiight?"

I've been hesitant to keep posting my yandere art, but it felt wrong to not finish the vampire turtle art I've been making recently! I mostly postponed it because I didn't have inspiration, and I didn't know what pose I wanted to use for him. But I'm happy I managed to get it done. Thanks for sending in this ask, and please have a nice day!

[yuyinesque]

WOMANEATER | “𝗒-𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗁-𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗒…”

⚘ précis. ≡ you're a therapist in a psyche ward, and your new patient isn't one you're particularly experienced with.

⚘ disclaimers. ≡ yandere!incel & psyche ward!therapist y/n, afab!reader (no fem-aligned prns used), physical violence, compulsive masturbation, hypersexuality, misogyny & women-blaming, usage of “bitch”, mentions of post-traumatic stress disorder (ptsd); obsessive behavior; delusion (secondary erotomania); age regressing; & urine, manipulation (guilt-tripping & gaslighting), mentions of suicide & self harm, implied rape fantasies & perversion.

⚘ category. ≡ nsft headcanons.

⚘ wc. ≡ 781.

𖦥 m.list. oc.list

🧷 yandere!incel who is a scrub-wearing individual who wears stoic expressions like they’re permanent masks, though at times the said mask tends to falter vastly when he’s around any woman; even fem-presenting figures drives him an inch deeper towards insanity. he’s picked numerous fights with women and only women, even when they’ve done nothing but walked past him. the fights were always prompted by truculence and defense, as for he would disclose evident signs that he was terrified of said woman, completely convinced that they were after him in some sort of ill manner, so he strikes before they even get the chance to blink. because of this, he’s been isolated away from female figures, and only male characters were capable of catering to him, as he was indifferent towards them. well, every male but you, a female.

🧷 yandere!incel who is quite the handful for inexperienced, psyche ward!therapist darling, as for they haven’t dealt with a patient with such a high caliber of disorders; their worst case so far was a suicidal woman who was diagnosed with type one bipolar. one session with the individual was enough to question your overall abilities. i mean, he despised you. at least that’s what you believed.

🧷 yandere!incel who is tired of you cheating on him with other patients! this is why he’s so angry towards you specifically, but he won’t say. however, he’s also completely infatuated with you; have i also mentioned completely horrified with you? you’ve noticed each time you would change your tone slightly, he would convert into a fretful mouse, apologizing incessantly as tears glossed his dark, beady eyes, also slipping up by referring to you as “mother” in a small, infantile voice. you concluded it was because you reminded him of such, and she was primarily the reason why he feared and hated women so much. motherly abuse.

🧷 yandere!incel who would have his calmer days since he was genuinely interested in his spouse. he’s never had a woman so madly in love with him, so it not only fed his ego, but causes his dick to swell with cum each time you evinced signs that confirmed you were oso desperate for his attention. with the way you sit up when you walk in, reassure him that everything will be fine, or even going out of your way to smile in such a lecherous manner. it angered him, especially when he begins groping his hardened crotch in front of you and complaining about you and your whorish antics. you would ignore him in response or threaten to cut the meeting short, which prompts a loud, slur-screaming, victim-blaming outburst in response.

🧷 “you’re such a bitch, you hear me?! a bitch! and a bitch li-like you shouldn’t even be alive! luring me, t-teasing me—all women are just a bunch of fffffucking sluts!!”

🧷 yandere!incel who also showed signs of hypersexuality and exhibitionism. he was a chronic masturbator, pleasuring himself to the most horrific things with your face in mind. just the thought of keeping you in your place by forcing you to perform taboo acts on the receptionist desk as everyone watched rotted his mind.

🧷 yandere!incel who would try to convince you that he doesn’t hate you only to voice his hatred towards you the next week. then he’d not only do that, but then claim that he’s never done such with tears in his eyes, finding your scoldings utterly unnecessary and so mean. there was even a time where you lost your patience and raised your voice at him, immediately causing him to not only an apologetic rant, but to begin pissing himself in the chair he was trembling and sobbing on, the strong scent of ammonia filling the room during the process.

🧷 yandere!incel who needed your touch or he’ll perform said disgraceful acts. there was a day where he pleaded for just a hug from you if he was good the whole week. once you confirmed it, he did just that. no fights, no arguments, nothing. he even apologized for freezing up and screaming at the poor, feminine soul that walked near him. you knew it was against the rules to be this affectionate towards patients, but you couldn’t break a promise. and so, you did—hugged him. awkwardly, even. he was rather short, so his face was buried within your chest, and the boner pressed against your thigh only made you feel nauseous, but not as nauseous as his next, ominous set of words.

🧷 “y-you better hope these h-hands hold mercy on your.. body once i luh-latch them onto you…”

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft

[hisenemy]

gulp guilty 😣

[zennotixs]

[yanstuffy]

Me??? in love with you for the rest of eternity???? absolutely.

[thel0botom1zed]

THE ONE AND ONLY BILLFORD! MY FAVORITE SHIP SINCE I COULD REMEMBER!

[sweetmourningdoll]

you’re mine, all mine <3

[the-dread-quinn]

It’s all fun and games until I’m tearing at my own chest, gnawing at my own heart because I can’t stand seeing you look at anyone but me.