#yandere jiaoqiu

[harmonysanreads]

I can't help but think of Yanderes who become so consumed by frustration and devastation when they realize that their abducted darlings will never return their love.

It's not like there wasn't a part of them that didn't anticipate this, but they thought they could tolerate it. That your presence being in a space they're aware of, unable to get tangled with outside influences anymore, would be enough for them. For a set duration, that strategy works as well.

They think the fact that you struggle less with every passing day is a good sign, you not attempting to leave your prison soothes them enough to daydream about the future they have with you in their head. They're thrilled the first time you don't flinch away from their advances, hope weaving images of the eternal bliss they crave.

But by the time your grasp on hope has bid you farewell, they start noticing just how much of you has eroded. You don't refuse their touches, you follow what they tell you to and you live as though you don't even think about the outside world anymore — such a revelation should render them breathless in ecstasy, if not for the harrowing realization of how lifeless it is.

They can get you to do anything for them, but neither your actions nor your words have any meaning in them. It's as though you operate on limited cognition, a doll in every sense. You don't return even a scrap of the love they hold for you and you never will because of what they have done to you.

And it destroys them, the guilt they suppressed for so long devours their thoughts. It's painful to look at you, at your dull eyes that remind them of what a monster they are. This isn't the you that enraptured them in such an intoxicating daze, this isn't the you that thrummed so vividly with life, you're devoid of what made you shine among countless faces — and it's all their fault.

However, they can't bring themselves to let you go either. Just the prospect of what the outside world would do to such a vulnerable you gives them just a miniscule more strength to continue this charade. So in this cycle of guilt and responsibility, hatred and love, joy and devastation ; you two will perish, if you must.

[yandere-romanticaa]

A warm smile etched onto the pink haired foxian's face as he watched his beloved eat the meal he had prepared meticulously, his fingers still twitching lightly from the constant chopping and grinding of meat but his hard work had paid off in the end. Jiaoqiu was blessed to hear all the little noises that came out of your mouth, the satisfied hums and light little hiccups were like gospel to him, irreparable, satisfactory, necessary.

He reaches for his own utensils, still monitoring you carefully from the corner of his eye, never once letting the mask of a carefree gentleman slip off.

His beloved was the personification of every dark and sinful desire Jiaoqiu had ever had. The broken heart which he was still mending started to beat once more in the presence of his beloved, as if it finally found its long lost voice and sprung back to life.

The feeling, my, it was exhilarating. For ages now his one true desire was to cure anyone he ever could, to rid people of all of their pain and suffering, to hold their hand in their darkest hour of need and tell them in his sweet voice that all will be well and that he will heal them -

However, time was a cruel mistress. And Jiaoqiu, was all too familiar with its icy cruelty. It wasn't fair, just how much was he going to suffer? Even if he was not aware of it at times, Jiaoqiu was still just a person. One single person in this wast cosmos, a flickering flame of a soul which was threatening to give into the darkness like the weakling that he always was....

And then, he met someone. Someone who became precious to him, someone who allowed him to just... Breathe. To let loose, every once in a while. Someone who he just loved to be fussy about, a person so singlehandedly tailor made for him that it was practically too good to be true. He loved being by his beloved's side, watching over them, taking care of them. It felt good having someone all for yourself, someone who you didn't need to share with anyone -

Much like a house of cards, everything crashed down once he found out that he was getting ahead of himself. He had not made you his quite yet, even if in his mind there would be no other who could fill the empty black void in his heart.

A sharp thorn in Jiaoqiu's side was this absolute pest of a Cloud Knight, a person so singlehandedly determined to take you away from him, a knight so caught up in his own valor and glory that he had failed to notice all the subtle changes around him.

The devil was always in the details. No one ever paid attention to those little details. And Jiaoqiu, the cunning fox, could be a truly terrifying devil if he felt threatened.

Jiaoqiu watched you bite into the meat, the lightly pink centre catching his eye as his smile turned slightly wicked. His gaze lowered down towards the fresh juices which dripped from the meat and onto the pristine white plate, a happy smile on your face.

You inquired about the source of the divine meat for the entirety of the afternoon but Jiaoqiu would always give you non answers or simply dodge the question.

Jiaoqiu loved you. He loved you like no one before. He loved you so much that his heart would stop beating if you ever broke it. His love was deep, dark and wast like space itself.

And you had indeed formed a little crack on his bleeding heart. Not enough for him to do something truly drastic but... It was enough for him to be angry. Angry at the thought that you had allowed this knight into your personal space. You don't need that fool, you already have Jiaoqiu. There's absolutely no need for that frivolous little knight to even be breathing the same air as you, Jiaoqiu was more than capable of taking care of you all on his own.

He had made it his mission to steal back the air the knight had taken from you. At the back of his head, Jiaoqiu could still hear the sickeningly loud crunches of the endless pile of bones, the messy table which reeked of blood and putrid, his snow white hands tainted with the sticky crimson liquid as he hacked and chopped and cooked.

In the end, he was going to teach you a lesson, even if you were not aware of it. Please, be gentle with him. Do not break his heart anymore than it already is. Jiaoqiu is a sensitive and sweet man, he has no desire to be rough with the object of his affections. And yet, even he knows that a small dosage of tough love, as he likes to put it, was more than necessary from time to time.

[leaf-line]

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥

Yandere! Jiaoqiu X Gn! Reader

❏ Jiaoqiu finds himself enjoying your company that he wants to extend it more.

cw: might be lore inaccurate, might be ooc, a hint of angst, you being called annoying, force feeding, mentions of pinning, no beta we die like Tingyun, written in Jiaoqiu's pov + he doesn't talk, pls don't be confused, reader is loud.

w/c: 962

Immortality is a crime... No, rather, it's a sin.

"Alchemy Commission... Agh—!! Where was that place again?! Wait a minute... Hey there! You! The pretty foxian boy with pink hair!"

Jiaoqiu finds it hard to believe that a human like you were accepted into a prestigious place such as the Alchemy Commission. You weren't even a Xianzhou Native, just a regular human. Why did he even try to put an effort into knowing who you were? Maybe it was because apart of him was curious about you and why the hell were you so loud? Honestly, he shouldn't have.

"Ohhhh, so this was the place, wow, I could've sworn I've ran into here multiple times before, why didn't I see it? Speaking of which, can you even actually see that? Why are your eyes closed?"

He wasn't exactly sure why he welcomed you so easily into his life. To put it into words... You were eccentric, goofy, and a slacker with no sense of direction, you speak out loud what's on your mind, no matter the place and time.

"Alas, we meet again, blind foxian... So you're my senior? But you're so short—"

You were blunt, sometimes it was funny, sometimes it was annoying. But Jiaoqiu never heard you tell a lie ever since the first time he met you. Although if he ever hears you call him any more honest insults, he's gonna spike your lunch with one of his handmade concoctions.

"Noooo!! Please! I don't want to memorize another set of ingredients for a different medicine!! Have mercy!!!"

And did he mention that you were loud? He'd be lying if he said he didn't find it entertaining, since the people there were so serious and gloomy. You were like the clown of the class, and Jiaoqiu was simply there to be entertained.

"You mean to say that in your own eyes, you think that food is medicine? That's... Super interesting!!"

...That wasn't a lie right? Well, Jiaoqiu hoped so. You were cheerful, upbeat, and optimistic at some times, he's yet to be accustomed by that kind of personality.

"Oh, yeah, sure I'll have a taste of your cookings, leave it to me! I'm a good food critique!"

Have a taste, he says. He doesn't know what you will reply. Will you tell him it tastes garbage? Will you tell him it's the most godsend food you've ever tasted in your life? He doesn't know, not unless he tries to have you eat it. At some point you were brutally honest it hurts him through the gut, but surely at some point when he impresses you, it would feel rewarding, right?

"This straight up tastes awful, this one is painfully bland, and this is, hmm... Let me taste again, ...mmmm!! It's super delicious!"

Was it a wrong choice when he interacted with you more? No, otherwise he would have felt so much joy in a long while. Bit by bit, you warmed up your way into his heart, securing a comfortable place in it. There was a saying that the way into person's was through their stomach, so why was it when the more he poured into your stomach and the more he was successful at making you happy, the more was being poured into HIS own heart?

"Jiaoqiu... Thanks a lot."

The second you were calm and silent. Aeons, you were adorable, beautiful, handsome and majestic in your own way that Idrilla would be jealous. He wanted nothing more but to cup your cheeks with his hands and connect your lips to his own. He wanted to hug you dearly, bask in your touch, bask in your scent. But he holds himself to the ground, after all, looking at the picturesque scene in front of him will suffice more than enough.

"What do you mean my hair is turning white? I'm still young you know?"

...Oh. Did time fly that fast when he's having fun? Was it this early for someone he would willingly hold dearly to part ways with him soon enough? Or was time just cruelly toying him? How could he even forget that you were a short-life specie, just how?

"Ugh... Sorry and thank you, Jiaoqiu. I mean, for taking care of me, I'm still really sick, my body is just getting weaker and weaker by the day... I don't know why..."

Time is running out. Why was his time with you getting cut short? Why? Why? No. He's gonna fix this, he can. All he wants is a little more time with you, can't he have that? He doesn't want to feel lonely again. Please... Stay...

"Jiaoqiu... Are you okay? You've been stuffing your nose into books all day. I just... Have a feeling your doing something suspicious, don't get me wrong, I'm not accusing you, I'm just worried."

Immortality is a sin, he knows that, he knows it all too well. The only way to achieve it is through the flesh of an Emanator of Abundance. The last time that went... Didn't go well. Fuck around with immortality and there will be a cost... That he's willing to pay, unfortunately for you. All he needed is to make a medicine that will ensure you to live longer, even if you become mara-struck, it doesn't matter.

"Are you sure this medicine is safe? I don't think that it is..."

Aeons! Just consume it will you!? Do you know how hand it took him to get his hands in these things!? Do you want him to strip naked and beg you to consume it!? You want him to pin you and shove it down your throat!?

Jiaoqiu wouldn't really consider himself sinful... So he wonders why he's dragging you into the pits of hell.

a/n: uh... this is inaccurate as hell, i barely read the lore leave me alone— 😭

[chanif-art]

“You poor thing… You are really sick.”

Yandere! Jiaoqiu x reader

cw: drug

The ChaGold member, thank you @alexex8sts as always for the amazing idea again! :-)

Idea by @alexex8sts <3

You're part of the Astra Express, returning to Xianzhou Luofu for some business with Jing yuan. You had been feeling dizzy but insisted on going. While walking through the city you suddenly passed out, when you regained consciousness, head pounding and eyesight blurry, you were met with the sight of two fluffy twitching ears and a friendly smile.

" They're stable again, but in no condition to walk, I'm afraid. A few days of rest and medicine will help " The man spoke, turning to something. You tried moving your head to see but were met with a tail blocking your vision and a small laugh. The sound of a door closing was heard before the foxian turned to you, and placed a hand on your head " Poor thing... "

For the next week, you were stuck in bed, any attempt to get up was met with Jiaoqiu gently pushing you down or a tail blocking your path. When you tried voicing how you felt better he would immediately shove a piece of food in your mouth or a spoon of medicine. Soon he moved you to a different room so you couldn't see the entrance of the building, soon the Astra Express stopped visiting, soon it was just you and him. Any time you acted up he'd simply give you more medicine (posion) and watch as you withered in pain, before getting you some food.

[if-loves]

consume

// Yandere Jiaoqiu

sum: The fastest way to a person’s heart is through their stomach. Or so they say.

wc: 871

warnings: written before jiaoqiu release (probably OOC jq), mentions of drugs and implied drugging, fem reader

a/n: sorry for the disappearance i had exams xd take whatever this is as compensation

likes & reblogs are appreciated :)

When Jiaoqiu loves, he does so wholly. He gives his heart and some, devotes his being, and allows the love to consume him. He feels the warmth rush over him, and he can’t help the smile that lives on his lips, the happiness that blooms in his chest.

He loves until he is squeezed dry, until the warmth disappears, until that happiness dies and the love spits him out; but he takes it all in stride, for as a foxian, his time in this mortal world is but a flicker compared to the rest of the Xianzhou’s inhabitants.

When Jiaoqiu meets you, he is instantaneously enamored. You are, to him, love personified, the one life in this universe made for him. He’s known it since the moment he saw you, and the feeling is only amplified when he speaks to you. Something in him, desperate and lovesick, calls for you.

You’re introduced as a healer from the Luofu, sent to the Yaoqing on an exchange between ships. You, like him, are a foxian, a pair of fluffy ears on the top of your head, and a cute bushy tail on your back. Naturally, you’re under his care.

While you are capable, you are also terribly shy around him. You only speak when spoken to, and you do your job dutifully, with no complaints. You’re independent, and Jiaoqiu can’t help but lament that. He wants you to depend on him, to see him as a reliable senior, someone you can turn to even if you’re not in a pinch. He wants you, yet you don’t seem to want him too.

So, he courts you the best way he knows how. There’s a saying that goes something like “the fastest to a person’s heart is through their stomach”, and although biologically inaccurate (the actual fastest way is through the veins), holds true - no one can resist food made with love, not even someone like you. Everyone must eat, and why pay for a meal when one sits in front of you for free?

The smile on his face is infectious.

~~~

With every passing day, the meals become more intricate. What started with simple stir fried dishes became more complex meals that could only be found in restaurants, all handmade by him. He watches as you eat all of them with a smile, happiness radiating off your figure as your ears twitch and your tail wags in unmistakable contentment. The food is good, yes. The drug has managed to slip in unnoticed as well.

It’s easy for him, really. Jiaoqiu doesn’t need to search for an alchemist, nor a chef. He is both, and he has more than enough knowledge and skills in both fields to be able to incorporate them in his work. Concocting a drug is just as easy as cooking a heartfelt meal, especially when it’s for the same person.

He is quite happy to know that you enjoy both.

~~~

It’s with a smile on your face that you tell him that you’ve applied to stay on the Yaoqing permanently, to stay by his side. You cite that learning under him was like exploring the galaxy, boundless knowledge awaiting you, and his home cooked meals always bring you warmth, like the embrace of a mother.

He takes all of your words to heart, a blush spreading across his face as you turn away. He vaguely feels his tail swaying drunkenly, and he feels like he’s the one who’s been drugged. He knows that this is the influence of the drugs he has been feeding you, but he cannot help but feel elated at your words. You complimented him… You want to stay because of him… You want to stay for him…

Jiaoqiu decides to invite you over for dinner, to celebrate the occasion.

~~~

Perhaps he went a bit overboard with the dose, or perhaps he wanted this to happen. Whatever the reason, Jiaoqiu has filled your meal with aphrodisiacs, and a lot more than usual.

To see them take so quickly was honestly a surprise to him, but he could not complain of the way you started to cling to him, digging your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. The heat radiating off of your body told him plenty, and he did not mind. No, he didn’t mind at all, not even a single bit.

When you lift your head from his neck, your lips meet his, a collision of desire and lust, born from expertly manipulated strings. When you part, a thin string of saliva connects the two of you, and Jiaoqiu thinks he would like to swallow you whole.

When he brings you to the most intimate room in his home, and when you show each other your most vulnerable sides, he thinks it’s okay if everything isn’t so natural. Healing nowadays is aided by many external factors, love is no different. All you needed was a little push, just like how people need a little medicine to help their bodies fight off their illnesses.

When his mouth finds the junction between your neck and your shoulder, he licks and sucks, and finally sinks his canines in.

You’d let him consume you whole, wouldn’t you?

[moonsaver]

Vena jugulară

War carries many things home. Jiaoqiu finds hunger. You find cures.

Warnings/tw; yan!jiaoqiu x reader, cannibal!jiaoiu, descriptions of gore, blood, veins, flesh, all of that nitty pitty, (slightly) suggestive scene, war, ooc definitely, rushed(?) etc..

A/n: 3.4k words. Not that big tbh. I kinda wanted to get it over w/ and thats all. I hope you guys enjoy. I kinda did.

- reader is a nurse who previously assisted Jiaoqiu on the battlefield to help wounded soldiers. I have mainly kept them gn, but i might have slipped up here and there.

"Doctor."

"Hm?"

Jiaoqiu hums and turns slightly to face you. His hands continue to fold the bandages. You eye the stain that's rusting on the off white shade.

"Another one."

"As usual."

A few men carry a stretcher into the tent soon after; dirtied from the filth of war. The stretcher has a man writhing and groaning in pain, but presumably passed out. His leg is injured.

Well, rather, his leg is torn.

A long tear. From the bottom of his knee, just shy of the curve, to the top of his foot. The flesh is almost cartoonishly pink, decorated with blood leaks and torn veins.

Jiaoqiu doesn't flinch, immediately getting to work, registering the anesthesia while guiding you to fetch rubbing alcohol and other surgical equipment. You silently oblige, as the other men leave, dredging on with their heavy boots riddled with mud.

A few moments later, as the last stitch tugs at the skin, Jiaoqiu sputters. You look up at him, concerned. A scruched, disgruntled look on his face, eyes still closed. You look down to see the slightest bit of mara leaking from the body.

"Even if I shall put him back together, what are the chances he may survive?"

He whispers, more to himself than asking you. You stay silent. You stare at his mouth, slightly covered in saliva, most likely from his sputtering.

He continues coughing a few moments more, handing the needle over to you as you hurriedly finish up a knot, then immediately leave to stand by him, shadowing him in worry as he continues coughing for a moment.

"Sorry. I choked on my spit."

You nod, before leaving and proceeding to finish up the work, leaving Jiaoqiu to catch his bearings.

You feel almost traitorous when you have such thoughts, however,

You've noticed an awful lot of things about your senior as of late.

His fur that's seeming to fray, split and gather on almost every surface, making it hard to disinfect and keep things sterilized for the most part. The stressful, or rather constrained look on his face when another soldier is sent his way – soldiers with flesh bursting at the seams of tight skin, blood flowering around the scene. The constant choking he feels from the heavy, thick scent of iron, and more spit dribbling down his chin.

Although, you feel it may be something else.

Granted, you don't ask. You hand him your handkerchief, and continue normally. You don't, however, miss the dilation of his usually thin pupils whenever he stares down at the man on the table. Like a starved predator upon a feast.

His eyes catch yours, too. Both of you stay silent.

–

"Hm, how.. disappointing."

You hum, Jing Yuan reverting to his pondering state, as you beat him at another round of the board game he'd invited you to.

"Battle strategies are your thing, General. I'm almost surprised. Are you letting me win, by any chance?"

Jing yuan laughs, a deep, curt sound that bubbles from his chest.

"Nurse, I would know how much fairness and certainty means to you."

"Hmm.. really,now?"

Your hand grabs his wrist, gripping onto the small guards of his arm, as you catch him trying to steal one of your pieces,

"Touchè".

You huff, letting go of his wrist, his hand languidly placing back the piece, before he repositions to lean the side of his head on it,

"Perhaps your instincts from then still remain."

"Mara struck are awfully dangerous."

"I've heard plenty. And seen, too."

"One tried to stab me with an empty syringe when I turned my back for a second."

Jing yuan hums, his hand hovering over the board decisively,

"Quite peculiar, such a trait."

"Strange indeed."

Jing yuan makes his move. It's time for you to think, now.

You lean slightly over the table, observing and calculating your moves. He continues to speak,

"Were you not infected as was the Chef?"

"Not sure why.."

You mumble out, fingers gently perched on a piece as you contemplate the move.

"You must have. That fever struck you for a month."

Your thoughts stop for a moment. Jing yuan almost smiles, watching the tension of your fingers over the piece,

"It's.. hard to remember what happened."

Your other hand creeps up to wrap around your waist, under the table. Something still faintly aches, but you aren't sure if you can fix it now.

"Chef cared for you quite arduously. That was the last time I'd seen a fox like him so ruffled."

You look up and click your tongue, as Jing yuan's fingers teeter around the pieces. He stays still and smiles, playing it off.

"I was the only one who could assist him. It's a given."

"Hm.. I've been driven to a corner."

You chuckle softly, jing yuan's eyes turning contemplative as you move your piece into position.

"Ah-ah, not so fast."

You blink, looking up at the General as he tuts, your hand hovering over your piece. Did you make a mistake?

He leans over, his hand reaching over to pick a stray hair off of your shoulder. It was short, and pink. Fur.

His hand retracts and languidly dusts it off his finger to the side. Ah, you realise,

"Must be Jiaoqiu's."

"I'd be surprised if it wasn't."

"I have been watching over that pink-haired girl.."

Jing yuan chuckles softly, shaking his head,

"He seems quite irritable since then."

"He's.. clingy. Ever since I.."

He hums, his golden eyes calculative as he decides his next move.

"What a shame."

You yawn, the settling winter thawing under the new sun making the atmosphere more comfortable than chilling, leaning back on your arms.

"I can never understand that man.."

Jing yuan makes his move, and waits for you, as he takes a sip of his tea.

"Foxians are quite interesting."

"Hm?"

Jing yuan's words pique your interest, as you slightly perk up,

"Really? What of it?"

"They react differently to mara."

The board is abandoned by now, as you listen intently, leaning forward,

"Do you know how mara works?"

He sets the ceramic cup down, the liquid in it ebbing gently from the motion.

"Foxians of his lineage have tendencies to act far too soon on their desires, from even a smidge of exposure."

..is he lying?

"It was a strange event he decided to treat such wounds in his past. With you on the line beside him."

"But, I was already working there before him."

"Indeed. That is why I.."

He stays silent for a moment. A small chuckle leaves him, as he shakes his head,

"You should be more cautious."

You blink for a moment, simply looking at him. Under the golden sunlight, it's hard to look away.

Wait.

You look down at the board, as he steadily gets up,

"Wait, you- stole the pieces-?!"

----

You sneeze, and cringe immediately.

Jiaoqiu's unreadable expression is pointed at you, as you look to gauge his reaction. You've always hated the taste of his medicine.

It was more peaceful than anything, other than the looming threat of catching the attention of your "mentor" (or as he insisted). The occasional thick scent of chili and sizzling meats settled into the air, along with the gentle draft of early spring, hints of the winter's cold lingering in the crisp air in the atmosphere. You sniffle and shift in your seat, as Jiaoqiu approaches you.

"Try."

He places a bowl of noodles in front of you. You eye it suspiciously.

"It took me a while to prepare. So don't waste it, disciple."

You look up at him, warily. His closed eyes and sly grin greet you back.

You eye the dark, rich broth that would have had your mouth watering just a few decades ago. The perfectly cut noodles paired with an assortment of seasonings of all kinds – cut meat, hints of vegetables, boiled eggs. It was perfect.

But you couldn't taste it.

Truthfully, after you became sick, nothing tasted the same as it used to.

Your palette must have dulled. You could barely taste anything. It was as though you ate the same food, everyday, every month, every year, with no change in sight. Jiaoqiu's made a bit of a personal mission to try and challenge your dull palette.

"Jiaoqiu.."

You start, softly trying to protest,

"[Name]."

He sits down across you,

"Do you remember when I first served this?"

He leans forward, his chin cradled on his interlocked fingers, knees pressing onto the table. There's a faint smile on his face.

You sigh,

"Yes, back when.. I had a terrible fever, which just wouldn't leave."

"Mhm. It was the only reason you had the energy to walk around."

You continue staring at the dish. A hint of sentimentality at least seems to spark some appetite in you.

"Hm, too soupy isn't it?"

You comment, looking back up at him

"We aren't scarce on resources anymore, are we?"

"You could learn to not alter a few recipes for sentimental value."

"And what? Feed you that ashen bowl of noodles with barely a scrap of meat or any spice?"

You sigh,

"..alright."

You pick up the stationed chopsticks from the side, and stir the noodles slightly. Jiaoqiu's smile widens, as he watches you.

"The broth looks.."

"Remember when your fever wouldn't go down at all? The high temperature was so stubborn."

You shudder at the reminder. You still remember it – the searing burn of the medicine you hastily applied, the following high temperatures and sweat, the constant discomfort of being so unutterably weak you couldn't even sit upright.

You suppose he doesn't like when you nitpick. You resign yourself to eating it quietly.

–––

The sheets are soft, and cold as your bare back settles against them, your head gently hitting the soft pillow behind you. Your fingers absentmindedly trail down to the bandages on your abdomen, tracing the tight-binded edges of it.

Jiaoqiu's back is turned to you as he readies a concoction. One of many he's tried to use to "fix" you.

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling. You would have felt more awkward, more embarassed about having to lay almost half naked in your 'mentor's bed, but considering the recent flare up a few days ago, you couldn't care less.

Jiaoqiu walks around the expanse of the bedframe, and gently settles down on the other, empty side. He placed the paste on the nightstand, as his fingers reach down to undo your bandages.

There is something tender, you think, about having to lay bare under someone who has seen something so ugly, yet persist regardless. Under his fingers, where your flesh seems to either rot, or bloom. Something beautiful, if it weren't for the past pains of war still haunting you two. Something tender, if it weren't for your own flesh rotting into you.

His nose scrunches up a bit as your wound is exposed at the removal of the wraps. Foxians, especially of his kind, tend to have sensitive noses. Specifically for blood, if it makes sense.

Your age-old wound has shriveled and ached for so long, you almost wonder if it's alive on it's own. How have you been? You almost ask, every time you see it for yourself. The tainted flesh almost searing every time another paste, another cure, is desperately smeared on it. Almost as though it is offended.

Jiaoqiu stays silent, for a moment, his eyes slightly opened as he stares down. His hands have moved to your sides, as though framing your outline.

They move up, slowly, as though encasing your ribs. They expand with each breath, skin stretching and moving with the flesh alive underneath. His face slowly dips down, as if in prayer. His lips ghost the dip between your lower ribs, in ancient reverence. You wonder if he might break you open and eat your heart from the cages of your bones.

His lips trace down ghosting over the edge of your skin, where the previously infected part begins. He inhales, slowly, before speaking.

"I don't know how to fix this."

You stay silent. Your hand comes up to the side of his face, his hair tickling the back of it,

"Jiaoqiu. It's alright."

"It isn't."

You watch his face retract, his troubled gaze on your wound. The flesh has been marred and sunken.

"This isn't something you can fix."

He moves, the bed dipping as his weight shifts, the side of his face resting on your chest, one of his hands moving to your stomach, the back of his fingers grazing your skin as it moves up to the centre of your ribs.

"Bitter, sour.. distasteful.."

He murmurs, his fingers absentmindedly tracing your skin,

His face shifts, his lips resting just above your heart,

"Your blood smells like poison."

You still for a moment. His teeth graze your skin. The hot, damp breath wets your skin.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your heart beats in his ears. He longs to feel it in his mouth. His other hand, still on your side, shifts, the fingers digging into your skin.

For a moment, you wonder what the scene will reel out as ‐ your limp body, a feast under his hungry mouth. Your arteries stringing from the cave of your flesh to his mouth like a bridge, thin veins scattering and puzzling themselves in the crevices of his teeth. You hope he doesn't devour you.

For now, he resigns himself to your skin. His teeth bite. They do not draw blood yet.

---

Jiaoqiu has had more peace, recently.

Here he sits, behind you, entangling the thin stems of flowers within themselves, braiding a flower crown. His nose scrunches, and his ears flit slightly whenever you hand him a fragrant one. You chuckle whenever he comments on it. His head leans forward and rests on your shoulder, as you continue to page through recipes in his book. Medicinal ones.

"Ah, look. It's stained here."

"Hm, gunpowder?"

Jiaoqiu asks, his tail swiping your back, the curled end of it tickling the side of your face,

"I think so."

You continue paging through the recipes, before stopping on a page.

Ah. There's blood.

"Dear, how did that happen?"

Jiaoqiu muses, his fingers paused as he looks at the blood stained page.

"I wouldn't remember."

"Hm.."

The blood smells sweet, despite having sunken into the page almost decades ago. It carries a hint of vitality, still. At least, in his foxian sense.

You turn the page.

---

"Jiaoqiu!"

"Not now–"

"The nurse..!"

Jiaoqiu stops in his tracks, taking his eyes off of his station with slightly furrowed brows, towards the person who's abruptly entered,

"What is it?"

"They're ill! They've fallen to the‐"

Jiaoqiu rushes with those few meager words, swiftly walking past as he asks where you are.

Unfortunately for you, you were trying to gain your bearings on the wooden floor.

This entire month of war specifically, had torn you both down to shreds. Your inventories were looted, leaving you with scarce medicine and many maimed to look after. The enemies were bolstering their presence harshly, and closing in furiously.

Upon stumbling on a rare sight of a wounded enemy soldier, you leaned down to check if they carried anything useful – medicine, maps, anything, when you realised in your haste you should have checked for their pulse first.

And it was in that moment of realisation did you feel a sharp plunge and sting, as the soldier's arm swiftly swung and stabbed you with a small knife.

You wanted to scream, but the overwhelming pain of the intrusion, the visceral splitting of your flesh far outweighed the need to scream. You jerked away, weakly, but hastily, retreating, leaving the enemy with their last bout of energy to laugh bitterly at you.

–––

Jiaoqiu still smells poison on you.

With war came many things. A lost locket on the vast field. A lonely sword in the quiet of the night. A child asleep in front of the door, forever waiting their parent.

And with war, came your eventual poisoning.

Perhaps it was the weapon. Knives edged with venom. It could have made for a lethal weapon.

But something felt odd.

Jiaoqiu's face presses into the warmth of your stomach.

Bitter. Sour. Distasteful. Rancid. Rotting. And Defiled.

Jiaoqiu's mind often wanders to wine reds. The pulling of sinew arteries, the sharp cut of a blade through flesh. The slow leaking of myoglobin or blood through the cutting board.

Sometimes, it had wandered while he tended to patients.

Blooming flesh, at incineration of skin due to sharpnel, or burnings. The vigorous pumping of the heart at the sight of blood draining down slowly, outside it's confinement, ever so oblivious to the lethality.

Jiaoqiu had craved flesh. Flesh beyond the slaughter of a Lamb, of a Cow, of any animal.

Flesh, right under the safe confines of human ribs.

Sweet, sweet viscera of the Liver. The expanse of Lungs. The tightly wound cartilage right above and below the muscles. Bones that leaked marrow.

The heart.

But he hadn't dare consume.

With war, came hunger.

Hunger he had not experienced like any other. Hunger that devoured him whole. Hunger so vast he could feel his insides churning and dissolving for the capacity of the appetite he would need to fulfill.

A hunger for you.

Poisoned, and permanently so. It's safe to say his attempts to 'fix' you, weren't necessarily innocent.

He shifts, his face moving to your neck, nose tickling the edge of it as his lips linger on your nape. Unprotected spinal cord. His canines expose and gently press on the tender skin, the pressure increasing, waiting for the breach of the skin.

You laugh, airy and sweet.

"What are you doing?"

Jiaoqiu retracts, slightly. Staggered, shallow breathing as he struggles to restrain himself.

He stays quiet. You grow nervous at the strange silence.

"Jiaoqiu?"

"[Name]."

His head turns slightly, eyeing the open recipe book on your nightstand. The night's gentle breeze wafting through the open window agitated the pages, slightly uncovering the blood-stained page for a second.

"What is it?"

You quietly ask, sensing the slight tightness in his voice,

"You poisoned yourself."

Your breath hitches, a shock rendering your body paralyzed for a second.

What?

You shift and turn to face him. His eyes are open, staring endlessly into yours. You break into a cold sweat, his slitted eyes almost cutting through you. Your heart beats harshly in your chest, as your breathing staggers slightly.

"Jiaoqiu?"

"While concocting that medicine for yourself.."

He whispers, his hand pushing down on the pliant bed as he leans forward, making you lean back in turn,

"What are you–"

"In your haste, did you ever think to use the right ingredients?"

He's towering over you, as you look at him, eyes almost blown wide, pupils dilated, breathing heavily. You don't notice it until you realise how out of breath you feel, despite the chill of the night air causing chills on your skin.

"The.. ingredients.."

You stumbled into your tent, almost meeting the ground, your arm on reflex grabbing onto something sturdy, as you gasped and panted. Your other hand presses onto the wound on your abdomen, as you cry out, abruptly interrupted by a sharp inhale at the pain. Tears singe your eyes, but your heart is beating too loud, and you're too pained to cry yet. You grunt as you pull yourself up, your bloodied hands sifting through the cacophany of items on your own desk, shuffling in haste for something,

Eventually, you hurriedly concocted a simple but powerful herbal paste, smothering it onto the blaring and irritated, bloody wound, seeping and crying incessantly of blood into your hands as you lathered it onto the wound in great pain. You ignored the uncharacteristic burning of the paste, hurriedly trying to wrap the bandage onto yourself, before too much blood was lost.

"Do you realise? That paste.. if you messed up a single point in the recipe, you'd poison yourself. Each ingredient was selected to neutralize the other."

Erratic, shallow breaths leave you as he looks down at you. What have you done?

This is poison. This is the curse.

The curse you carried after the war. It was never mara that could affect you.

And it was the poison Jiaoqiu had longed to taste.

His face dives down into your neck again, his fangs ghosting your jugular vein,

"Do you realise what truly courses in your blood?"

A cold bead of sweat drips down from the side of your forehead. Death could possibly taste sweeter, you imagine.

"I can't wait to taste it."

And his teeth sink.

--

[owls-longings]

Yandere!Jiaoqiu: Short Drabbles and headcanons

Warning: Dark content, Yandere, Force-Feeding, Drug Use, Non-Con, Kidnapping, Forced Marriages, Very unhealthy romantic relationships and power dynamics

(Written before 2.5)

Some short drabbles about Jiaoqiu that I wrote a while back- before it was kept in my vault of a head for a long time LMAO. Feel free to let me know what you think!

Yandere!Jiaoqiu who loves force feeding you his cooking.

He practically shovels spoonful after spoonful of his food down your throat, even managing to hit the back of your throat with it.

You can only cough and splutter, but all it does is give him more openings to shove another spoonful in.

By the end of each feeding session, you're just wretching and sobbing.

It burns-- it hurts-- yet, despite your incessant sobbing, Jiaoqiu merely looks into your teary eyes with a cold smile.

"You know- I wouldn't have to do this, if you would just behave and eat your meals." He says as he picks up the cutlery and empty bowl; walking out and leaving you writhing on the floor.

Yandere Jiaoqiu who keeps you drugged all the time while he's away

You don't even get the luxury of relishing the time away from him. You wake up, then get drugged out of your mind for several hours.

By the time the drug wears off-- he's already come home, and then it's all about spending time with him until it's time for you to sleep again.

Rinse and repeat. Again. And again. And again.

You find that you dream a lot in these drugged out states. You dream of being as far away from him as possible.

You dream of your home, your family, and your friends.

But it scares you that as days, weeks and months go by, the faces of your loved ones in your dreams; your only solace in your shitty living arrangements with Jiaoqiu, are growing increasingly blurred with each passing dream.

Yandere!Jiaoqiu who uses your family as leverage to strike a one-sided deal

You beg the Foxian to let you go see your family-- even just once. You bargain and plead, promising him that he can accompany you, and you wouldn't run away anymore. Just please, let you see them again.

"Please, I'll do anything-- I just need to see them one more time--"

You should have known you were practically making a deal with a demon as he smiled at your helpless plea; how he had so eagerly agreed to make the arrangements.

The next time you see your family, they're crying and congratulating you on your wedding with Jiaoqiu.

Singing him lavish praises of how your marriage to him has helped them so much. Didn't you know? Jiaoqiu has been providing them with a seemingly endless supply of credits and helping with medication you could only dream of affording with your previous, meager paycheck.

Your parents are practically sobbing tears of joy as they talk about how they can finally afford to send your brothers to a prestigious school.

And as they cry and thank Jiaoqiu profusely, you can feel despair creeping up on you as you realize this man has your entire family wrapped around his finger.

"If you want them to stay happy; you'll have to behave more from now on, no?"

He practically whispers into your ear with a chuckle.

[sxcchxrine]

jiaoqiu having hannibal references in his trailer and there’s a book on how someone ate a borisin …. okay but hear me out …

dan heng 🤝 jiaoqiu wanting to literally devour their darling… i got brainworms i need this now, i might write it soon

[wailing-bunny]

Appetizer

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Dark Content Warning!

Contains: Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, x fem Reader

Warnings: yandere, forced marriage, dub-con, vague NSFW, abuse

WARNING! Some tags are not added for surprise factor, please read accordingly!

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

“Qǐng màn yòng, my lady.”

The sweet smell of peppers dancing in an appetizing sea of delicious vegetables, the aroma that makes you salivate and sigh in desire, the boiling hot pot that is steaming, making your cheeks red from the heat.

A series of fine meat, still steaming soups, carefully chopped and mixed vegetables, deliciously spiced rice, and many drinks, to accompany the unimaginable feast in front of you.

One of the only pros you saw in this forced marriage, a very skilled healer was chosen to take care of you.

A healer he calls himself, but medicine cannot be made without food, and remedies cannot be found without some spice, he says.

You do not complain, why would you? All these delicious meals lined in front of you, they were something different every day. So many options, but he never repeated his meals.

Every day, a different medicine.

Every day, a different sensation.

The sly fox simply chuckled with a hand on his mouth, as he watched you devour the food like a starved animal.

A starved animal, you were. Considering your husband’s choice of keeping you locked in his room when he had things to attend to.

And being a general, he had a lot of duties to attend to, naturally.

So you could only have a proper meal only once in five days, or maybe three, if you’re lucky enough.

Of course he didn’t keep you unfed outside of those days you were pampered with many dishes. There would be a loaf of bread and a bowl filled with milk on your nightstand every week. You just have to spend it carefully.

It will teach you strategy, and patience, he said. And maybe it will teach you enough to win your freedom one day too.

But for now, the only thing that mattered was the feast in front of you. There was so much, you had already felt full, but you knew you would be starving these next days, so you continued to eat regardless.

The general had always said he liked you more chubby, anyway. A sweet thing for him to say.

You just wished he would be sweet enough to let you save some of the meals for later, though. But unfortunately, once Jiaoqiu was gone, they were too.

And being the good wife you are, you were expected to return to your shared bedroom after you were done receiving a physical examination.

You didn’t know why you were acting like this suddenly, though. Immediately jumping into the general’s arms, and looking at him so prettily, with a blush tinting your cheeks.

You didn’t know why you clung to him so tightly, begging him to touch you.

You didn’t know why you were suddenly on top of him, riding him as he stared at you with a lazy smile, appreciating your pitiful, small efforts.

And you didn’t know, why, no matter what you did, no matter how much you chased for that pleasure, the fog in your head wouldn’t clear, and the tight knot inside your stomach wouldn’t come undone.

You begged and begged the general, to help you, to do something. You told him this wasn’t normal, and you needed to be checked for a disease of sorts. And when he didn’t take you seriously, you begged him to bring you to that pleasure instead.

Which he simply replied with a,

“Ah ah ah, you must work for what you want, young lady. I taught you manners, didn’t I? “

So you did. You worked for it hard, and even when you exhausted yourself to the brink of passing out, the feeling didn’t subside.

You laid at the bed, whimpering like a kicked puppy from the feeling as you felt the general get up from the bed. A hum accompanied by a chuckle.

“A check up, you requested, correct?”

You raised your head in confusion, the door to your bedroom was opened.

You heard another chuckle, from a familiar voice, but not your husband’s.

“Ah, and here I was worried that I wouldn’t get my payment… Fortunately, the general of the Luofu is true to his words.”

Horror, and confusion, as you felt your body slowly succumbing to the prior exhaustion.

But a hand on your chin, and a finger being inserted inside your mouth, before you feel yourself swallowing something.

You hear a tut.

“Not so fast, dear. I haven’t gotten the chance to play with you yet, after all…”

And you feel yourself become lucid like you’ve never been before.

[santsukii]

ᯓ✿ kiss ya with a knife

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hi..yan jiaoqiu…

ˋ°•*⁀➷ yandere! jiaoqiu x gn! reader

°˖➴ listening to: slay !! - kiraw & 6arelyhuman

₊˚ yandere, drugging, kidnapping, violence, written before character release, also written while i’m so cold i can barely feel my hands :/

this cook is absolutely using the trust you placed in him to get you all to himself. once everyone you care about has cut you off or simply ghosted you, that’s when he seizes his opportunity. jiaoqiu would often cook for you, so a small dessert to make you smile isn’t conspicuous at all.

that’s what makes it perfect, smiling innocently as your vision grows blurry and dark, the spiked dessert he had given you starting to take effect. the cook would feign concern, carrying you back to his home and simply telling anyone who asked that you were quite sick and he needed to keep a close watch on you.

you’d wake up in his bed, a chain on your ankle connecting to the intricately carved bed frame. you felt weak, drained of all energy as you looked around the dark room, seeing that same foxian you trusted, watching from the corner with those intimidating yellow eyes.

[harmonysanreads]

Dosis Sola Facit Venenum

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Yandere!Jiaoqiu x Reader

cw(s) : yandere themes, force feeding, drugging, implications of munchausen syndrome, biting, gaslighting, non-consensual touching, intrusive thoughts, victim blaming. read at your own discretion.

「 word count : 900+ 」 「 read on ao3 」

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Tagging @yandere-romanticaa I did not expect to write Jiaoqiu content so soon TvT

Your naïveté knows no bounds. Pushing, objecting, fighting and defying a phenomenon your senses can't even perceive. Blinded in spite of a functioning vision, immobilized even at the absence of tangible restraints. You protest and mewl and reject, but you're oblivious to what against. It's enough to lure out the claws kept in check, entice them to sink into layers of tender flesh.

Your turned head and stretched palm before his insistent advances are delightful to spectate, so much so the healer can't for once peel his eyes away. “I feel full.”

“Full? From two measly spoons of medicinal stew?” he tilts his head as though to better gauge the increasing pressure between your reddened lips. Blood rushes to and paints your skin in a flush, he can very well predict your next words.

“You call that medicine? It's spicy enough to burn my whole digestive system!” you all-but roar at his placid face, Jiaoqiu gives but a hum in exchange.

The bite of the capsaicin renders you restless, his scheming gaze doing little to soothe your distress. You are a pitiful, confused thing ; aiming your arrows without direction in hopes of eliminating whatever it is that sends you in disarray. A hunter lost in a maze of a forest, soon to lose their titular identity and succumb to the shadows' calling.

Your stare is dumb when his thumb swipes across the residue stew clinging to the corner of your lips, a shudder nearly cracks his facade when his tongue acquaints with the taste.

“Barely stings. If I add any less of a spice than this, it's going to taste like distilled water.”

Jiaoqiu nearly tsks at the way your fingers clench the ends of your garment, it should've been him — not some measly piece of fabric in the clutches of your attention. But the silence that now spreads around the room intrigues him, for once you have nothing sassy to say.

“Whatever. I'm not eating any more of that Jiaoqi—mmph!”

Silly little thing. Cloaking yourself in sickness in order to escape your duties, provoking a famed healer to cure your mystery, non-existent ailment. You're a sinner just as much as you're a sin, bit by agonizing bit, ensnaring his soul in your dainty grasp yet sporting the audacity to not see it. Jiaoqiu knows he could never escape from beneath your fingertips, but he can attempt to seize your flighty little being in a death grip.

There's a scintilla of defiance in your pupils even as his hand grasps your jaw, shining through the discomfort induced by the silver spoon shoving a mouthful of that detestable stew and not relenting until the movement of your throat determines its consumption. Your breaths are stirred in abrupt patterns, titillating the Foxian's interest. You eye his lingering fingers absentmindedly squeezing close the flesh of your cheeks, a few dots of darkness almost blurring your vision.

“Was that necessary?” you bite out vengefully.

“I think I need to cure that attitude of yours before whatever sickness it is that prevents you from doing that one particular work. As for whether this is necessary?” Jiaoqiu's free hand slides down to your right wrist, the fabric of his glove makes unwanted gooseflesh appear on your skin.

“Look at how skinny you're getting. Even an old fox like me could snap this in half and you're whining about me keeping you under observation? You really don't know what's best for yourself.”

You sputter at his pointed words, “I'm not that weak... and I definitely don't need your specialized medicinal stew to cure me—heck, I'm not even actually sick!” you snap with vigor but can't find the energy to snatch back your wrist.

“Oh really?” a squeeze to your cheeks shuts you up, the heat in his orange eyes threaten to engulf the spark still keeping you alight.

“But that's where you're wrong. You are sick and you do need me and my healing art. If you aren't in fact sick, how come you can't even keep your eyes on mine anymore?”

No amount of spice could rival the image that paints itself before him, muscles fighting the pull of slumber and sagging before his voracious gaze. Not even a single coherent word can escape from your heavy tongue and shut lips, no finger vigorous enough to lift against his grabby hands.

Jiaoqiu observes the pliant face in his grasp. The scent of fear and desperation tickles his nose and beckons him closer to the sin, fangs so insistently obscured now sinks on the first bite of his demise. You flinch upon the intrusion of something sharp on the skin of your throat, collapsing to a pair of awaiting arms. Indentions marr the previously flawless canvas, a sheen of saliva shines obscenely and the Foxian is certain he's too far gone.

Your resilience is an infuriating trait, especially in response to the forces that try to weaken the fire in your soul. When one drop of Tumbledust fails, a second is added and if this continues for more than one meal — even the most roaring flame will be rendered suppliant.

The dosage of medicine is an area of caution for any physician, prescribing more than what is necessary can accelerate the erosion of health. But without sickness and ailment, what value does a healer hold? Without the presence of this flame that brightens his stale life, what purpose is there for Jiaoqiu to continue pursuing this existence?

Naïve, pitiful, agonizing, sinful, intoxicating — he'd never run out of adjectives to describe you. You brought him to ruination, and an eternal damnation he'd choose still before the prospect of losing you, too.

[yandere-romanticaa]

I've always liked to imagine this beautiful foxian as the clingy type, as the kind of person who if he could have it his way, you would be glued by his hip 24/7. Day after day, he's always more thankful for the fact that his senses are so much better than that of an average human. He adores your scent and whenever he steps into the threshold of your shared home, Jiaoqiu always power walks towards you, immediately crashing into you and placing his nose deeply into your neck, inhaling the scent with absolute reverence.

As sweet and darling as he could be, you found him impossible to be around. For ages now, you've conducted and plotted the best way to break up with him, to ensure that the most minimal amount of damage is done to both parties.

And then, the absolute worst case scenario happens.

You heard the horror stories about Hoolay, how he escaped, of his sick plan and... And for what he did to Jiaoqiu.

You bite your lip so hard that it draws blood. Tears blur your vision as you inch closer and closer towards the hospital. Each step you take feels as though the grim reaper himself is coming to welcome you into his solemn embrace. You knew that whenever you were about to encounter was going to change your life forever.

You had no idea just how right you truly were.

Stepping into the pure white room felt like a dream. General Feixiao and Moze were there, their faces grim and laced with worry. Feixiao stood over the bed, her back turned to you as Moze hovered in the farthest corner of the room, his gaze locked on you once he sensed you coming. Upon hearing you, Feixiao turned to face you, her face quickly morphing from concern to relief.

"Thank the stars." She says softly.

"Even in this current state, all he would do is chant your name."

And there he was.

Jiaoqiu, your Jiaoqiu, on the bed, broken, bloodied, bruised.... His eyes were covered with bandages while the rest of his body positively reeked of medicinal herbs and incense. His ears perked up as they listened carefully to your footsteps, lightly twitching from left to right. Carefully, he sniffed the air like a frightened animal.

Recognition came over him as he called out to you, his voice hopeful and in pain.

Jiaoqiu choked back on a sob as he sniffled loudly, his arms shooting upright into your direction, which startled both Feixiao and Moze. Before either could react you ran towards him and embraced him, carefully placing the top of his head onto your chest. His arms scrambled all over your body, eager to touch every nook and cranny they could get themselves on as he pressed his nose deeply into you, inhaling both your scent and the air around him.

He sobbed like never before, thanking every aeon in existence for bringing you to him. His grip was impossibly tight to the point where you knew there would be bruises left, but you didn't have the heart to tell him to stop.

Pressing a gentle kiss onto his forehead, you laid Jiaoqiu back onto the bed as he held onto you like a vice.

"Please, please my love, don't leave me!" Jiaoqiu pleaded, his voice hoarse from the crying.

With a sigh you let him hold onto you, like a mother cradling its child. A deep feeling of loss and resignation bubbled in your heart as fear seeped into your heart.

How on Earth were you going to go through with your plan now? There was no way you could tell Jiaoqiu about how you felt, not like this...

With the way things were now, you had no choice to endure the pain, just for a while longer. You would have your peace one day...

But that day was not today.

[madamofthestars]

Plot idea:

Yandere Jing Yuan getting married to his beloved and Jiaoqui who also in love with the darling decided to crash the wedding to confess his love for the darling.

[aislebewithshu]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 loveit?

x gender neutral reader.

wc: 468

cw: yandere, mentions of cannibalism (in a metaphorical sense), character death, dismemberment (but not too graphic), vomit/throwing up, dark content basically. DIRECT references to the song loveit? and love eat and also based on the revenge theory bcs ppl have different interpretations towards this song lmao (and it made a dent in my brain forever. thank u to that one that came up w the theory).

dead dove, do not eat.

author notes: hi it's been a while since i last wrote anything.. i mean anything at all.. this (obviously) might not be the accurate representation to the songs HNFF pls i tried considering other theories... thank u for reading!! scroll away if uncomfy <3

red. It is the color he could only see.

how putrid, he thinks. seeing so many people surrounding you, it irks him. how could you talk to these… lowly creatures undeserving of your presence? he eyes you like a predator, watching your possible next move. oh, how he loves that horrified look you have for a second the moment you laid your eyes on him.

“come on, eat it, darling."

he urges you as you hesitantly look at the ‘food’ served to you, then back at the male. what could he put here that he insists that you eat the meal he prepared? you take a bite, and he smiles.

it was the meat of the person you last talked to, he whispered. the moment he said that to you, you immediately threw up, not letting said human meat inside your system. disgusting, vile, even uncanny.

he was pleased, after all, you wouldn't let anyone in your life except for him, would you? the first question in your mind was, why? why, would he go lengths, as to butcher one's body just because you talked with them? he hates that you're giving all your attention and affection to that insignificant pest.

he also has to stake claims to you - a mark that you are his. that's why he proceeded to gouge out your right eye. it was excruciating, but what mattered to him is that he put a mark on you forever, and he plans to do more.

after all, love makes everyone blind, even to those who think they've seen what true love looks like.

"i'm going to eat you, sexually unrestrained."

oh, why can't you say anything? you're not fighting him back, so you must like the pain he's inflicting from you? poor thing, but he loves you too much to let you go. he promises to eat you up, deep into the marrow, flesh and blood.

that is, until you snap.

cupping his cheeks with your stained hands, you gaze into his eyes. it is uncharacteristically loving, to the point that it freezes him on the spot. what are you going to do next? he thinks.

bringing your lips to his, he indulges in the sick, yet passionate kiss, as you bring your hand to take his knife. you wrap your arms around him as he does the same, tracing lines at his back with the knife you're holding, bringing your beloved to his beautiful demise.

"you're loveit in human form."

surely you haven't lost your mind? of course, love does make everyone blind, even him. your ultimate intentions— on why you had to indulge in his twisted whims, why you didn't fight back, it all made sense to him now. after all, he fell into the fake love you presented before him, a punishment you endowed on him for killing your actual beloved.

enstars - shiina niki, tenshouin eichi (hear me out), fushimi yuzuru, saegusa ibara, shino hajime, sakuma ritsu (honestly i cld put the whole niki's kitchen circle here)

twst - trey clover, jade leech, jamil viper

bllk - mikage reo, kaiser michael, bachira meguru (hear me out pt. 2)

hsr - jiaoqiu

+ your faves.

©AISLEBEWITHSHU on tumblr. do not repost / feed to AI.

[soapssuds]

For the request, can I please have Yandere Jiaoqiu and Feixio x reader headcanon (poly)

Yandere!Jiaoqiu & Yandere!Feixiao x Reader

These two together always spells trouble

Especially for you

Jiaoqiu, to me, seems to be the more controlling type

Wherever you go, he is sure to follow

He's always right next to you

His hand resting on your lower back or on your hip

It's like you never get your personal space back when he's with you

As for Feixiao?

She hates not always being next to you because of her job as a general

But she doesn't have to worry as long as Jiaoqiu is giving her timely updates on you

Speaking of which, she just loves watching how you interact with Jiaoqiu

He always keeps you on your toes and she likes keeping notes at how you react to it all

And when it's finally her turn to be with you?

She wants to be in constant contact as well, but she manages to reign herself in.

Besides even if she isn't always around you, she knows you wouldn't be able to disobey her

She's that scary of a partner!!

[moonsaver]

Warning: yan!jiaoqiu x reader, hints/implications of cannibalism and drugs.

Note: its 1.3k words, which is surprising considering i dont usually write that much. Anyways i tried to incorporate a different kind of horror feeling into this work. Hope you guys like it.

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Jiaoqiu lives up to his name. Medicinal chef, although one part is hidden, and he willfully lives up to the other half. But both seem to work in cognition when he meets you.

There you are – where he always hopes you'll be. A small twitch of his ear, the flurry of his tail. His eyes creak open ever so slightly to behold your silhouette in the golden frame of his irises. 

There you are – where you always will be, he hopes. Or rather, he wills.

Jiaoqiu has taken a rather different approach when it comes to medicines, and food.

The chilli sizzles in the oil, loud and crackling in short bursts through the growing warm air surrounding his workspace, his tender hands working swiftly through the assortment of spices. But really, he wouldn't need much, especially considering the chillis he's going to be using. Although, he changes his mind, going back over to dutifully sprinkle in a few spices anyway. At least, he does this for you.

Quiet, ever so silent. Curt responses. Flitting eyes. You're a curious little thing. Well, it doesn't matter how brooding or moody you may be. To him, you're interesting. To any sly fox, interesting means plaything. He's learned how to really risk the delicate balance of spice and flavour. And he's also sure how to deal with bitterness.

Strangely enough - you seem to like it. The bitterness slowly but surely pierces through the food, seeping into your mouth like poison. He's sure to take inspiration, but for now, he watches with a closed eye smile. A smile you're always too familiar with, ever since he's started making things special for you.

His chin placed delicately on the palm of his hand, elbow slightly straining the smooth wood underneath, as his hand gently fans away the ghat of the chili, still wafting in the air, making a few people cough in the distance. “Do you like it?” He asks, often. “I've added just what you might like”, “you'll keep coming back”, and, “my, aren't I seeing you too often?”

...

You don't know what's gotten into you. Dazed, but also hypervigilant at the same time. You think you're losing your mind – the reality you were so grounded in, losing your footing, the dissonance of your mind pushing you far into the cacophony of distressed thoughts, until his calm voice snaps you of it.

“Hm? Perhaps my new recipe will help soothe you. If the feeling persists.. meet me after hours.”

You take another bite, another walk back home, and another episode of hyperventilation. You breathe in, eyes flitting to the mirror you can't seem to reach – or rather you can't seem to keep yourself standing despite your fearful heart lurching in your chest.

And as per Jiaoqiu's predictions, you do meet him after hours. But you can't tell with the blend of reality and your hallucinations. You're not sure if it's the moon, but you're sure Jiaoqiu stares down at you, silver and gold melding into your delicate vision.

—--

Jiaoqiu has many characters of a cat than he does of a fox

Or rather, you say that because you probably haven't interacted with a fox before.

All the times you were sick and bedridden, Jiaoqiu made it almost his personal mission to look after you. He wouldn't be around for too long, thankfully. Long hours at work or the other. But he comes back and makes the best soup you could ever have, especially with your illness.

But you find the meat makes your body slightly reactive, at least when you're sick. Jiaoqiu brushes it off and insists you eat regardless.

His cheek rubs against your shoulder when you wake up, telling you how dearly he missed you. You yawn, eyes still closed and heavy from sleep while you wake up, but you can notice the slight grazing of his pointed teeth on your skin. 

You watch as he dutifully grinds up herbs and other malleable herbs into the mortar. He grew them himself, he tells you. It's simply better to alter and enhance them when you can get your hands on them, he tells you.

That's a beautiful flower, you tell him. His dutiful hands temporarily withhold in the air above the mortar, the soft stem bent and almost breaking in his fingers. He chuckles softly. You've been tasting it for a while in your food now, he informs you. You hum as he grinds it into the powdery mixture. Was that the source of bitterness?

-

Jiaoqiu has a taste for many peculiar things. But he also has a taste for humans. Or, more or less, just you.

Ever since you've become a regular, Jiaoqiu has been eager to offer you a sneak peek into the kitchen. He sits you down for the milder part of the cooking process, chatting away with you as he waits for one or the other thing to marinate, rise, or separate. His hand not so subtly itching to yours over the countertop, forcing your hand to slip into his glove. When you whine or complain about the constriction of the material, Jiaoqiu only responds with a quiet smile, his ears twitching the slightest bit. 

Sometimes, he lets you look around the kitchen, with sanitary limitations, of course. You eye the meat that looks a bit too red, or the one with a few too many strings in it to be written off as normal. You gaze at the blood seeping into the water. Myoglobin, he tells you. But you think your eyes are keener than that.

He feeds you well, isn't hesitant to add in a few extra medicinal herbs to your food, serves you the special tea he prepares only for momentous occasions.

And the best meat he finds.

Its a beautiful red, in his opinion. You stare as the knife cuts through the meat, the strings loosening and tearing. The blood– myoglobin, he corrects you, taints his hands, ungloved. Its far easier to determine the cleanliness without gloves. They tend to give you a false sense of it. He tells you.

You watch, the smell of the raw meat making you scrunch your nose the slightest bit. He chuckles fondly when he sees that on your face.

He finds you to be one of the people he's met, that he's taken a liking to. As for the one that he considers distasteful.. well, he's sure he can find some use of them. Especially if you dislike them, too.

-

You're sure something is wrong.

The soups make you dizzy, your body bursts into hives, your heart rate goes up. Something in it is causing you severe distress, but you can't understand what exactly it might be. You've staved away from his shop for a while. 

Until one day – Jiaoqiu senses your hesitation. His smile is no longer on his face, despite his closed eyes. He quietly allows you to inspect the kitchen after hours, his back turned to you, grinding, crushing, snapping the herbs into the mortar. You especially eye the red meat he stores away, and this time he doesn't tell you off. He continues to grind the herbs, shuffling through a few cabinets for them, before continuing. You've insisted on calling it blood and not myoglobin. Because you can taste it in your food.

He tells you, you're hallucinating. It's a side effect of your sickness he's had to help ward off lately. But you're sure he's wrong. He hums, and continues quietly. The darkness of the kitchen only illuminated by scarce yellow lighting, and the sterile, white glow of the fridge as you continue staring at it. Your eyes wander at the various meats before–

You spot something behind it.

His meats are sourced from various animals, with smaller organs, incomparable to the size of humans.

Was this animal mutated? Or simply particularly large?

You gently kneel down, hearing Jiaoqiu snapping the stem of a flower and continue grinding the herbs, your eyes settled fiercely onto the incomprehensible.. thing.

Your shaking hand reaches out, the coldness of the fridge making you shiver, although it's not exactly the cold, is it?

Your fingers touch the strange surface of the unidentifiable meat. Pericardium. Your fingers reach further and gently grasp it. It's about the size of your fist.

You breathe out, your heart thudding in the quiet of your mind as you stare at the one in your hands.

…

Has it always been this quiet?

You look back and are met with Jiaoqiu's golden eyes.

His default smile returns to his face, but this time, his golden eyes are staring directly at you.

You should have stayed out of his kitchen. Who knows what he'd been feeding you?

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