#yandere killer harem

[suiana]

(implied killer harem x dark web organ seller gn! reader)

"i've killed for you. how many other people can say that?"

"...multiple, actually."

he stares at you, jaw wide as he swallows his saliva, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. he then holds up a decapitated head in front of you, blood still dripping, indicating that the kill was fresh.

"damn. so i guess you've received heads as gifts before too, then?"

"yes, unfortunately."

he shakes his head, shoulders slumping forward as he pouts.

"but... i haven't received a brain intact before so if you could please-"

you mumble as you reach your gloved hands out for the head, yanking it before walking back into your office. you then quickly walk out, face stoic as ever before giving him his reward.

"for your service you get one kiss. hope to see you again next time."

you plant a kiss on his cheek before disappearing into the depths of the dark room. the killer stands still, staring at where you once stood before touching the place where your lips had touched. he feels his cheeks heat up, heart racing as he plans on all the things he would do next to get your attention amongst the sea of other suitors.

"ah... i hope i land a date with them next time... "

[sunnypopoki]

YANDERE X READER RECS ━━

ᴀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ! ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ!

𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ( yandere! mafia husband x female! reader)

Y/N fell in love with him in high school, married him after graduation, and moved in with him whenever she decided to go to college. But something about him was odd. Disappearing at night, being gone for days on end, answering suspicious unknown phone calls, being overly clingy... He's not cheating, right? Or was something worse going on?

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD, TUMBLR, QUOTEV

𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 ( dark reverse harem x villainess! reader )

Y/N wanted her arranged husband dead. Who could blame her? After she was forced to marry the Grand Duke, she knew that she'd live a miserable life, especially if it meant being tethered to him til the end of her days. So she started to make a plan. A sinister plan to kill him, his close friends, and topple his empire of fame to the ground. If she wasn't allowed to have rights, why should they? But it was easier said than done... because unbeknownst to her, three men would do anything to appease her.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 ( yandere! emperor x female! reader )

Emperor Cadmus Dimitriou. Whether people knew him by his title as emperor of Kiaba, or his cutthroat win in the war three years ago, they all knew that a man like him was destined for greatness. But Y/N? She was destined for the constant spray of blood, the roaring of the crowd, and the thud of bodies dropping. It wasn't like Gladiators had a choice. However, that all changed when she was bought for a cheap price by a cruel man who wanted to test her fame. And Emperor Cadmus wouldn't take no for an answer.

• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 ( yandere! vampire x male! reader )

The Devil stopped at the doorstep of Y/N's church with a charming smile. Business, he said, that was why he came by to visit. His touch left Y/N's skin in flames, his gaze made his stomach twist, and his voice made his head spin. This man, Linus Ambrose Wittherson, had to be Lucifer himself.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ( assassins! reverse harem x villainess! reader )

Everyone inside Fulminare Academy had secrets; the professors, the students, the scrappy dogs outside. Y/N was no different. However, she never thought those secrets would lead to her demise. Mysterious men were out for her head, or more specifically, the knowledge inside it. May curiosity kill these wicked cats.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD & QUOTEV

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐓 ( yandere! serial killer x male! reader )

Y/N knew there was something wrong with him but he couldn't help it. He was 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. Who wouldn't be hooked onto someone like Micah Ariti? A transfer student from Greece who was perfect in every way; his athleticism, his creativity, his 'no-bullshit' type of personality. Even if he knew then about who he really was, he was already addicted. He would never let him go.

• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)

[prompt-heaven]

the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober 

some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season. 

AUs

academic / teacher / professor / tutor 

addams family

babysitter / nanny

bartender

biker

bodyguard

bonnie and clyde

bounty hunter

boxer 

camp counselor

circus / carnival

cult 

demon / angel

fairytale retelling

fantasy 

farmer

firefighter

guardian angel 

historical 

hybrid

mafia / mob 

magic 

maid / butler 

mechanic 

modern 

monster / mythology / supernatural

paranormal investigator 

pirate / mermaid

post-apocalyptic

priest

prison

rockstar 

royalty

serial killer

sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper 

slasher

soulmate

spy / secret agent

steampunk / cyber punk

sugar daddy

tattoo artist 

time travel

treasure hunter 

vampire

werewolf 

wild west

TROPES

a/b/o

against a wall 

age gap

amnesia / memory loss

anonymous sex

balcony sex

boss x employee 

brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)

car sex

cheating

clothed sex

comforting sex

coworkers to lovers

cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen

dark / soft!dark

enemies to lovers

exes to lovers

fake relationship

forbidden romance

friends to lovers

friends with benefits

game gone wrong

hate sex / make-up sex

huddle for warmth

just the tip

library sex

loss of virginity

mirror sex

neighbours to lovers 

only one bed

opposites attract

period sex

pool / hot tub sex

predator / prey

professor x student

public / semi-public sex

revenge sex

reverse harem

romantic sex

roommates to lovers

rough sex

seduction

sex in an alley

sex in exchange for a favour

sex while camping

shower / bath sex

stalker

stepcest

table sex

unrequited love

yandere

KINKS

aftercare

anal 

begging

being recorded / taking pictures

body worship

dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari

breath play / choking

cheating

cockwarming

corruption kink 

costumes / uniforms

creampie / breeding / forced breeding

cuckolding

cum in panties

cumplay

cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging

dacryphillia

dirty talk / voice kink

double penetration / double penetration in one hole 

dry humping / thigh riding 

dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging

dumbification

exhibitionism / voyeurism

fingering

fisting

flashing 

food play 

footjob 

forced orgasm

formal wear 

free use

glory hole

glove kink 

hand kink

handjob 

hole inspection

humiliation / degradation

hunter / prey

impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink

jealousy / sharing / possessive

knife kink / gun kink

lingerie / stockings / socks

massage

masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation

medical kink

monsterfucking / tentacles

multiple orgasms

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

threesome / orgy / gangbang

partner swap 

pegging

piercings

pillow humping

praise kink 

premature ejaculation / cuming untouched

pussyjob

roleplay

role reversal

ruined orgasm / cuming without permission

sensory deprivation 

sexting / phone sex 

facial / swallowing / bukakke

size kink / size difference / belly bulge

skirt stays on

somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep

spit kink

squirting

stripping / lap dance

teasing 

temperature play

thigh fucking

throat training

titty fucking

toys / object insertion 

OTHER PROMPTS

a ritual gone wrong 

a string of unexplained deaths

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

alian abduction 

art come to life

basement wife 

being paralysed 

blackmail 

caught trespassing on private property

college party gone wrong

crazy ex

curiosity killed the cat

fate worse than death

final girl

getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems

ghostface

halloween party

haunted house / abandoned house 

haunted object 

hitch-hiking gone wrong

hot neighbour that has an obsession with you

i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you

Items moving and/or going missing

i’ll find you in every universe / century

kidnapping

lost in a maze

mad scientist 

magical healing 

marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage 

mind control / telepathy

mirrors playing tricks on the mind

oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind

oops, i summoned a demon 

oops, i’m dating a serial killer

playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them

possession (ghost or demon)

power outage

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

road trip

secret room

serial killers fucking in front of hostages

stalker landlord

stalker wearing the same costume as your partner 

stockholm syndrome

the return of a villain thought dead

torture

toxic frat boy

waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from

we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine

you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on

[coffee-and-tea-time]

Yandere shop! Choose your yandere!

I was thinking, did you ever listen to yandere asmr videos? If so, you will catch on quickly that this is based on the yandere shop, which was so popular in asmr videos during the pandemia. - coffee

If you didn’t, quick summary Coffee gave me: imagine if there is a place where you can enter and you can ‘buy’ (they pay you since you are going to take care of a serial killer so he don’t kill people while you two got your twisted love) a yandere of your choosing. - tea

Word count: 1.2k but this will be edited to correct misspellings or weird sentence structure later, sorry in advance.

tw: yandere behavior, willing reader, delulu, written in you/yours, reader is a little nervous but really interested, you can choose humans yanderes and non-human (although humanoid) yanderes!

You fix your clothing and take a deep breath, your mind filled with ‘what if..’ yet, you were here, in a place that you didn’t trust was real.

A creak takes you out of your thoughts, a smiling man dressed rather formally, greets you cheerfully.

“Sorry to interrupt when you are so absorb in your pretty mind My dear, but you know, a little push may help you”

He said as he extended his hand to you, well, you already made your way here hoping to get a yandere so you gather all your corague as you take the man's hand. He led inside the shop, you can hear the click of the door closing behind you as you follow him.

“Oh, I hope you weren’t thinking of backing up so quickly Dear, want something to drink?”

You gently shake your head as you sit down in one of the couches, on the inside it looks pretty much like a coffee shop.

“Smart choice but you still seem rather nervous, want to say something before I go ahead and show you the catalog?”

“Well, I wanted to know, what can you do for the yandere you like to like you back? What if the one I choose doesn't like me back?”

Your worries were met with a not-so-subtly laugh from the man which make you kind of annoyed and embarrassed.

“Sorry Dear, I just never thought I ever meet somebody that feel insecure about the love of a yandere”

Now you wanted to punch him, is a normal question to ask! Yanderes have their own way to fall in love!

“Let me give you a quick explanation, if they had a darling, both of us know they would be busy stalking them. The yanderes we have don’t have a darling, but are eager for the sense of love on their own way which may not suit everyone so to avoid problems, this shop was put in place as a matchmaker between differents kinds of yanderes and people who enjoy them"

You sight in relief as you nod.

“alright, who is more likely to go even more insane if they don't get a darling soon.."

"Sorry, what did you just say? I couldn't hear you well"

"Oh, nothing Dear, I was just searching for the ones that been waiting the most, is how the list work, I will show you a few options first so you have an idea, you can ask for another kind if you had something else in mind, I'm sure we got something that will suit your taste; Although, do remember that is just one yandere, we had problems with that before"

"How is it that someone got the permission to have more than one? I thought you guys will keep in track that since well, it's dangerous for anyone"

"She didn't have permission but she manage because she stubbornly wanted a yandere harem, the result are expected, averyone in that house died except for one yandere, he is again on the list, and as you can guess, he end up more being more... intense. He is totally your perfect option if you like a very possessive yandere, he's a more serious yandere for that experience"

“That will be dangerous for me too?”

"Dont worry Dear, he is truly desperate for love like the rest, his name is Dizie. But if you rather a more gentle treat, Gabriel is your guy, I don't know much about him since he said that only his darling will get to know everything about him. As far as I know, he's kind of yandere that will kiss the ground were his darling walk, a worshiper you can say, if you like someone looks at you like you are a deity, he's definitely your perfect match"

“Isn’t every yandere a worshiper in their own ways?”

"Well, I guess? Is true that others have another específic ways to worship, look, he's the baker, relishes in your enjoyment of their pastries, a very skilled baker that knows how to include the most unique of ingredients to make the sweetest of treats, dreams of putting his heart and soul in every treat he bakes for his darling, his name is Oliver”

"What kind of ingredients tho?"

“The next one you may like is actually a popular singer, he chooses to keep anonymous unless chosen, but if you want to be a celebrity or date one, he is someone you can guess that will love to spoil their darling, he’s on the talkative side, if you like art or stuff like that, you will enjoy his house. although he babbles a lot of how he wish to hear the voice of his darling obsessively for hours”

The seller seems to dodge your question.

“Ah, of course, we also have some special yanderes if humans are boring or less attractive for you, look, he’s Myotis, the classic vampire, he even has wings! Isn’t it perfect to see the sky closer while you enjoy the company of a yandere that looks like he just came out of a book? If you are also into short kings, you gonna love him without a doubt”

"He's not going to drain me out of blood, is he?"

“Dear, why would a yandere who waits so long for their darling, kill them? But if vampires aren't your type, you could go for a mothman! You will be the light of his life, literally. He’s a big softie and kind of clumsy; he just eagerly waits for the arrival of his daylight. A good choose if you like special clingy yanderes, he is not around humans too much, but he said he wanted to be called Lior if he got chosen. Oh, if you are on the stronger side, you may want to keep your eye on Tarak, he said something about his name meaning something like star and protector I think, I guess he chose the name by himself, he’s a prideful dragon and really loves to talk, honestly, I’m not that intelligent to understand some things that he say, but if you like to know new things by listening, asking or reading, he's your man, you can try trying to teach him something new, I don't think is impossible to archive”

“You know what ag…”

You stopped talking when you catch a security camera in a corner moving around frantically yet appear like not seeing anything?

“Don’t mind him, is just Grier, even though I don’t know if that's his real name, I do know he loves trying to spy here using the security cameras so we end up having to put tape on them when a darling is coming to the shop; as you can guess, he’s a hacker, if you choose him, you will be very well protected and taken cared of since you gonna be being watched even when you think you are alone, if that what you wish for, please do choose him.”

The seller looks at you, waiting for an answer, to choose what kind of yandere you want or ask for a specific type now.

“You don’t really go outside too much, so I don’t think you gonna have problems with any of them”

You act like you didn’t hear his murmur as you look at the papers in your hand of every yandere he just talked about.

If your favorite options lose or you want something specific, just send an ask! We love comments and interactions in general so don't be shy.

Seller post

Sneak peek of the first encounters

Grier post

The singer post

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest ⚘

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW

WARNINGS: Yandere Behaviors, Drugging, Abuse in form of ‘Training’, Breaking bones.

PAIRINGS: Yandere Hashiras & Yandere Uppermoons x Reader

You’re a fanfic writer who always enjoyed writing deranged yandere bullshit, and a sadistic one at that — you’re always making sure to make your mc’s suffer just because it’s satisfying, and they were never spared from the torturous path you laid out for them.

Little did you know that your grisly storytelling would come back to haunt you, for you ended up getting isekai’d on one of your fanfics, because for some reasons, life decided to be an ass, and the the grim reaper’s scythe whisked you away to the realm of one of your fanfics — and the sensation of being isekai’d into your own creation was disorienting, to say the least.

After all, the very same fanfic that you got reincarnated into was the most disturbing of them all — your yandere kimetsu no yaiba fanfic.

The atrocious acts you've inflicted upon your protagonist are beyond twisted, like seriously fucked up. You didn't just stop at giving them a shitty backstory and psychological trauma — oh no, you cranked it up a notch by tossing in a goddamn harem of yandere nutjobs. These thirsty-as-hell psychos were so off their rockers that they veered straight into bonkers territory, their obsession reaching levels that would make even a deranged serial killer blush.

They were downright bat-shit crazy over the MC, like, borderline certifiable. It was as if the MC was their holy grail, their reason for living.

Not the cute and endearing kind of devotion either; we’re talking hardcore, stalker-level obsession.

The only one who were somewhat less psycho yandereish was Mitsuri... but then there was Obanai, who was a walking danger zone on steroids...

Every damn piece of that twisted fanfic you cooked up is a total shitshow.

Kyojuro went batshit crazy over the MC because they stood up for him against his dickhead of a father. Shinobu turned into a psycho stalker because she couldn't wipe her own ass without the MC's help, resorting to schemes like trying to paralyze and drug them just to keep them on a leash.

Tengen who thought that he could charm the pants off the MC until he got a taste of competition and spiraled into a possessive man..

And then there’s Sanemi who’s the most cray cray of them all... He practically broke the mc’s bones and beat them up into a pulp, all because he couldn't handle his jealous rage and tried to pass it off as some sick form of ‘training’

And the demons? They’re more worst than the hashiras.

And the worst part of it all?

You were now the reincarnation of the MC.

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐀/𝐍: this is just the outline but i think that i’ll publish this one on my wattpad soon after i finished doll smitten, still debating on whether i should make this one a female or male tho^^ +++ this one’s gonna be a harem.

[ozzgin]

Day 1: Yandere School Doodle

Day 2: Balinese Folklore, Brazilian Folklore, Romanian Folklore

Day 3: Secret Collection, AI [Yandere Android]

Day 4: Yokai Harem Doodle, Homemade Meal [Yandere Serial Killer]

Day 5: Deep Sea Monster, Yandere School Doodle

Day 6: Unorthodox Gift [Yandere Yakuza]

Day 7: Dear Alice [Cute!Yandere]

Day 8: Chimera [Deer Monster]

Day 9: Heart on a platter [Demon King]

Day 10: Dragon!Guardian

Day 11: Dragon!Guardian Doodle, Medieval Menace [Vegetable Lamb Hybrid]

Day 12: Devilish Charm [Zzy]

Day 13: Mating Season [Lion!Hybrid & Tiger!Hybrid]

Day 14: Eyes Everywhere! [Internet Monster]

Day 15: Monster Streaming Doodle

Day 16: A piece of me [Angel], Idolatry [Angel]

Day 17: Razor Sharp Smile [Vampire Clown]

Day 18: Yandere School Doodle

Day 19: Wings, Under Lock and Key [Fae] (Postponed)

Day 20: Fear of the dark [Ghost Harem]

Day 21: Undead [Zombie x Grave Robber!Reader]

Day 22: Mommy's Little Monsters [Spider Horde]

Day 23: Aftercare [Yandere Circus]

Day 24: I put a spell on you [Succubus]

Day 25: Tainted Love [Naga]

Day 26: Full Moon [Werewolf]

Day 27: Android Caretaker

Day 28: Dullahan [Pumpkin Assistant]

Day 29: I come with knives [Slasher]

Day 30: Alien [Xenomorph Queen + Hive], Monster Hotel Guest

Day 31: Art the Clown x Reader

[Navigation]

[candycandy00]

Jujutsu Kaisen Master List

A master list of all my JJK fanfiction, arranged newest to oldest (in each category). All fics have Fem Readers and contain smut unless otherwise noted! My works are for adults only!

Sukuna X Reader

I’ve Been a Naughty Girl! (Kinkmas fic, Sukuna as a Pervy Mall Santa, Rough Sex)

Once Upon a Time (Fairytale AU, Sleeping Beauty, Plot, Somnophilia, Rough Oral) (Three Parts!)

Dancing With the Devil (AU, Sukuna as a Priest, Praise, Breeding)

The Maiden’s Voyage (AU, Sukuna as a pirate captain, Rape/Noncon, Rough Sex, Violence, Sukuna is a cruel monster) (Four Parts!)

Father Sukuna’s Discipline (AU, Sukuna as a priest, spanking, rough sex, reader as a nun)

The Doll House (AU, BDSM, Erotic Torture, Needles, Clamps, etc.) (Four Parts!)

Breaking You (Rape/Noncon, Blood, Torture, Humiliation, Double Penetration)

Serve Me, Save Me (Reader is a Rape Victim who joins Sukuna’s Harem after he inadvertently saves her) (In Progress!)

The Offering (Dark, Dubcon, Blood, Rough) (Five Parts!)

Gojo x Reader

Once Upon a Time (Fairytale AU, Cinderella, Rough Sex, Spanking, Praise, Plot) (Three Parts!)

The Doll House (AU, Dubcon, Chubby Reader, Pet Play, Anal, Bullying) (Four Parts!)

In The Library (College AU, Gojo and Geto bully Reader, Rape, Dark)

Promotion (Power Dynamics, Reader wants Gojo to promote her to Grade 1)

Christmas Past (Fluff, Drabble, Gojo x Geto in flashback) NO SMUT

Pick Me Up (Gojo x Reader x Geto, Halloween fic, Serial Killer AU) (Five Parts!)

Human (Rape, Torture, Blood, Dark, Reader is a cursed spirit) (Two Parts!)

Little Miss Nobody (Plot, Rough Sex, Gojo is an asshole) (Three Parts!)

Geto x Reader

The Sweetest Torture (Mafia AU, Edging, Handcuffs)

In The Library (College AU, Gojo and Geto bully Reader, Rape, Dark)

The Doll House (Dubcon, Humiliation, Public Nudity, Dom/Sub Dynamics, AU) (Four Parts!)

Pick Me Up (Gojo x Reader x Geto, Halloween fic, Serial Killer AU) (Five Parts!)

Toji x Reader

Catch You on the Outside (AU, Toji in Prison, Rough Sex)

Forest Guide (Toji as a Werewolf, Rape, Breeding)

His Favorite Target (Toji is hired to kill you)

The Doll House (AU, Size Difference, Age Difference, Cock Drunkenness, Use of Aphrodisiacs) (Four Parts!)

Nanami x Reader

The Stranger at the Bar (AU, Degradation, Size Difference)

The Doll House (AU, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Reader is afraid of men.) (Four Parts!)

Choso x Reader

Once Upon a Time (Fairytale AU, Rapunzel, Plot, Yandere themes, Bondage, Imprisonment) (Three Parts!)

Best Summer Ever (Suggestive, Fluff) NO SMUT

The Doll House (AU, Dom!Reader, Sub Choso, Teasing, Collars, Pegging) (Four Parts!)

Multi-Character

JJK Men as Pervy Mall Santas

Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse (Halloween 2024 Event)

[fangdokja]

"The first time I touched death, I vowed it wouldn’t be the last."

❤︎ Synopsis. In a world where death feels more intimate than life, a young criminal profiler hides a dangerous secret: an insatiable obsession with killers, driven by the thrill of catching them—and the forbidden desire to get closer than anyone ever should.

♡ Book. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF) : Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Serial Killer/s (?) x Fem. Detective! Reader

♡ Novella. Hybristophilia - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 9,380

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, suggestive themes, fear play, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, BDSM, depression and mental illnesses, implied suicidal tendencies, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descriptions of gore, implied abuse, unhealthy family dynamics

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving mental illnesses, self-harm, and suicide, some plot details of the original story were purposefully made ambiguous to fit the platform.

♡ A/N. I was stuck in the plot introduction 70% since Dec. 22, 2024 with this work. I just couldn't get the vibes done right. Until I realized that this was 9k words and can be posted already, ahhhhhh. I literally could've posted this earlier hjadskadjdslad. This is technically really, really, REALLY old work, tbh dsfjjdfkdsl. Like same age as Paternal Privilege. Also, I was so formal before in this blog, now I'm just weird tbh. Crack energy. ngahhhh. low-key my writing vs. my personality wahhaah. Also that synopsis is just sheeeshhh. I'm so excited to write the Forbidden Fruits stories. Legit. Extremely challenging to write, but satisfying. I have an upcoming Yandere! Family, Yandere! Fans, and this one, Yandere! Serial Killers. Finally found what to do. Yes, ALL of it is smutty reverse harem stories. This Part 1 mostly focuses on Reader lore.

The rain poured like a ceaseless baptism, a torrent that washed the blood from the cracked pavement and whispered the sins of the dead into the gutter. The city was a wretched beast—a labyrinth of neon lights and suffocating shadows, where humanity festered and decay thrived. It was here, in this urban purgatory, that you carved your name into the annals of justice. Rookie detective, they called you, but you were more than that. A prodigy. A virtuoso of the macabre symphony that was murder.

You stood at the edge of the crime scene, your breath curling in the air like ghostly smoke. The corpse lay sprawled across the asphalt, limbs twisted in a grotesque parody of life. Blood had pooled beneath the body, glistening black in the dim, flickering light of the streetlamp. The victim’s face—what was left of it—was frozen in a rictus of terror, eyes wide, mouth agape in a scream that would never be heard. A masterpiece of brutality.

The others hesitated, their hands trembling as they cataloged the scene, but not you. You stepped closer, the leather of your gloves creaking softly as you crouched down to examine the remains. The scent of copper and decay clung to the air, an invisible specter wrapping itself around your senses. Your gaze traced the jagged lines carved into the flesh, the deep incisions that spoke of rage, of obsession. You didn’t flinch. This wasn’t chaos to you. It was a puzzle, and every grotesque detail was a piece waiting to be placed.

“Detective,” a voice called from behind, hesitant. “We… we’ve got a partial print. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

You straightened, the weight of your coat shifting as you turned to face the forensics tech. The young man’s face was pale, his eyes darting nervously between you and the corpse. He held out a tablet, the illuminated screen displaying a magnified fingerprint. You nodded, taking the device and scanning the data with a clinical detachment that belied the storm brewing within you.

“It’s a start,” you said, your voice as cold and sharp as the night air. “Run it against every known database. Focus on violent offenders, repeat killers. He’s not new to this.”

The tech swallowed hard, nodding before scurrying off. You turned back to the body, your mind already piecing together the profile. Male, mid-thirties to forties. High intelligence, methodical. The precise incisions suggested medical knowledge or at least anatomical familiarity.

This wasn’t a crime of passion; it was art. A performance meant to shock and awe. He wanted to be seen. He wanted to be understood.

“He’s watching us right now,” you murmured, your breath ghosting over the victim’s lifeless eyes. It wasn’t paranoia. It was intuition—a sixth sense honed through years of studying the darkest recesses of the human mind. You scanned the surrounding buildings, the windows like darkened eyes peering down at you. Somewhere out there, he was hiding, basking in the chaos he had created.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. You answered without looking at the screen, your voice a curt acknowledgment. “Detective speaking.”

“You’re quite something, aren’t you?” the voice on the other end drawled, rich with mockery and amusement. Male, smooth, confident. “Standing there in the rain, piecing me together like a puzzle. You’re just as brilliant as they say, maybe even more.”

Your heart quickened, but your expression remained impassive. “Who is this?”

A low chuckle, dark and velvety. “Let’s not pretend, Detective. You know exactly who I am. You’re holding my work in your hands, aren’t you? How does it feel to touch my masterpiece?”

Your grip tightened on the phone, the rain sliding off your glove like quicksilver. “Why don’t you come show me yourself? Or are you too much of a coward to face me?”

“Oh, feisty,” he purred. “I like that. But no, this is much more thrilling, don’t you think? The chase. The anticipation. You and me, dancing in the dark.”

“You won’t get away with this,” you said, your voice a blade honed to perfection. “I will find you.”

“Oh, I hope you do,” he replied, his tone shifting to something almost tender. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you, Detective. Someone who understands. Someone who can truly see me.”

The line went dead, leaving you standing in the rain with the echo of his voice lingering in your mind. A shiver coursed through you, not from the cold, but from the thrill. The hunt had begun, and you were already neck-deep in the abyss.

As the city’s lights flickered and the shadows deepened, you turned back to the crime scene. The others glanced at you, their faces a mix of awe and fear.

They didn’t understand. They couldn’t. This wasn’t just a job for you.

It was an obsession, a dance with darkness where every step brought you closer to the edge. And you couldn’t wait to see how far you could fall.

────────────

The mansion you called home was a monument to perfection—gleaming marble floors, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and walls adorned with paintings worth more than most people earned in a lifetime. It was the kind of place where silence reigned, not out of peace, but from suffocating control. A mausoleum masquerading as a home. The air always smelled of polished wood and cold steel, sterile and lifeless.

Your family was the kind people envied. Your father was a titan of business, a man whose name alone could inspire fear or awe depending on who spoke it. Your mother was the perfect socialite, a porcelain doll of grace and poise who never let her painted smile falter. And then there was you—the heir, the eldest child, the one meant to inherit it all.

Except no one envied you. Not if they looked closely enough.

“You’re a disappointment,” your father had said, his voice as sharp and cold as the winter air that seeped through the cracks in the mansion’s walls. He loomed over you, his tailored suit immaculate, his cufflinks gleaming like little knives. His eyes burned into you, assessing, judging, and finding you wanting. “Do you even want this life? Or are you content to sit there like a damn ghost?”

You had stared back at him, your face a mask of apathy, your eyes dull and distant. “I didn’t ask for this life,” you said, your voice flat, emotionless.

His slap came fast, sharp, and deliberate. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to sting. “You don’t get to choose. You’re my child, and you will uphold this family’s legacy.”

Your mother had watched from the corner of the room, her wine glass clutched tightly in manicured fingers. She didn’t intervene. She never did.

You were a disappointment to her, too. You didn’t have your father’s drive or her charm. You were quiet, withdrawn, always lurking in the corners of rooms during parties, your shoulders slumped and your expression unreadable. People whispered about you. The heir to an empire, and yet you carried yourself like a ghost.

Your younger siblings—perfect in their roles—thrived under the weight of your parents’ expectations. They were ambitious, charismatic, eager to please. Everything you weren’t. You avoided them as much as you could, retreating to the library or your room where no one would bother you.

Books were your only refuge, but even they failed to hold your attention for long. You flipped through pages without absorbing the words, your mind drifting to an endless void of nothingness. School was no better. Teachers despised your lack of effort, your unwillingness to engage. You could solve equations and recite facts with ease, but you didn’t care enough to try.

“You could be top of your class,” one teacher had told you once, her voice tinged with frustration. “Why won’t you put in the effort?”

You had shrugged. “What’s the point?”

She had stared at you like you’d just confessed to a murder.

The truth was, everything felt pointless. The world was gray, flat, lifeless. Food tasted bland, music sounded hollow, conversations felt like static. The people around you moved like automatons, their voices blending into a dull hum that barely registered.

You dragged yourself through each day, waiting for something—anything—to spark life within you. But nothing ever did. You were a shell, empty and hollow, drifting through life like a leaf caught in a current.

At home, the pressure mounted. Your father’s glares grew colder, your mother’s smiles more strained. “Why can’t you be like them?” she had hissed once, gesturing toward your siblings as they basked in the glow of parental approval. “Why can’t you care about something?”

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t care about anything.

Until that day.

———

It was a Wednesday—cold, gray, and unremarkable. You had come home from school, dragging your feet up the driveway lined with perfectly trimmed hedges. The front door was ajar, but you didn’t think much of it. You stepped inside, the sound of your shoes against the marble echoing through the empty house.

And then you smelled it.

Iron. Sharp and metallic, it filled your nostrils, cutting through the usual sterile scent of the house.

You paused, your heart giving the faintest flutter of something you couldn’t name.

“Mom?” you called out, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

No answer.

You moved further in, the silence pressing down on you like a weight. The air grew colder as you approached the living room, the scent of blood growing stronger. Your pulse quickened—not from fear, but from something else. Something that made your skin prickle and your breath hitch.

The door was slightly open, light spilling out onto the polished floor. You pushed it open, and the world changed.

Your parents were dead.

Your mother lay on the cold tile floor like a broken marionette, her body contorted into angles no living thing could endure.

Her neck had been slit from ear to ear, the severed carotid arteries gaping open like grotesque mouths. The blood spray, arterial and bright, had painted the walls in erratic arcs, a grotesque mural of violence. Her head tilted unnaturally backward, the deep incision almost severing the spinal column.

The skin of her neck had been parted with surgical precision, revealing the glistening white cartilage of her trachea and the dark, meaty coils of severed muscle beneath. Her eyes—wide, glassy, and unmoving—stared into eternity, their sclera stained pink by ruptured capillaries.

Your father was slumped against the far wall, his body a macabre tableau of suffering.

His chest cavity had been torn open, the rib cage shattered and spread like grotesque wings to reveal the glistening viscera within. His sternum had been cracked apart, jagged shards of bone jutting outward, some piercing the flesh around them like cruel splinters. The cavity was hollow now, organs displaced or missing entirely—perhaps taken as trophies or discarded in the frenzy.

The lungs and heart remained, barely recognizable, its walls torn and sagging like deflated balloons. Blood seeped sluggishly from its ruined chambers, mixing with the viscous, bile-stained fluid pooling around his torso. His intestines, severed and spilling, snaked out across the floor in tangled loops that glistened under the harsh overhead light.

But for the first time in your life.

...

You felt alive.

The apathy that had gripped you for years shattered in an instant. Your heart raced, your breath caught, your fingers trembled. You should have been horrified. You should have screamed, cried, run for help.

But you didn’t.

────────────

You stepped closer, your movements slow, deliberate, as if approaching a sacred altar. The blood seeped into your sneakers, warm and sticky, but you didn’t care. You crouched beside your mother’s body, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch her lifeless face. Her skin was cold, waxy, but your pulse raced. Your fingers brushed against her blood, smearing it across your skin like a ritualistic paint.

The door creaked behind you, and you turned sharply, your heart leaping—not in fear, but in anticipation. Standing there was the man responsible, his silhouette stark against the dim light filtering in from the hallway. He was tall, his face obscured by the hood of his jacket, but you could see his eyes—cold, calculating, devoid of remorse.

He looked at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, a slow, crooked smile spread across his face.

“You’re not scared,” he said, his voice low, almost amused. “Interesting.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes locked on his. You felt something stir within you, a connection, a pull. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t want to run or scream. Instead, you wanted to understand him. To unravel the mystery of the man who had brought such beauty into your sterile, empty world.

“You’re different,” he murmured, stepping closer. His boots squelched in the blood, the sound sharp and wet. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re like me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill that you couldn’t explain. You didn’t move as he crouched before you, his gloved hand reaching out to cup your face. His touch was cold, but it didn’t bother you.

“You’ll remember this day,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “And one day, you’ll thank me.”

He stood, pulling the hood tighter around his face, and turned to leave. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t cry out or beg for help. You just sat there, staring at the blood-soaked floor, your mind racing, your heart pounding.

In that moment, something inside you shifted.

You weren’t afraid of death.

You were fascinated by it, drawn to its cold embrace like a moth to flame.

You didn’t tell anyone about the man or his words. He was your secret, a shadow etched into your soul.

With the memory of his smile lingered in your mind, he would be a ghost that would haunt you for years to come.

────────────

You didn’t know how much time passed. Minutes, hours—it was meaningless. You were kneeling in the middle of the carnage, your school uniform soaked in blood that wasn’t yours. The hem of your skirt clung to the sticky floor, and the faint hum of the refrigerator in the next room filled the void of silence. The bodies of your parents lay sprawled before you like grotesque marionettes, strings cut and discarded.

You tilted your head, staring, unblinking. You traced the patterns of blood with your eyes—the way it spidered out in thin, spindly veins, pooling in the cracks of the marble. It was beautiful in its brutality, the symmetry and chaos mingling in a way that stirred something inside you.

A distant noise pulled you from your trance. The sound of footsteps. Heavy boots against the floor, muffled voices carrying through the still air. The door creaked open further, and the cold wash of blue and red lights from the police cruisers outside spilled into the room.

“Jesus Christ,” someone whispered, the words trembling on their lips.

You didn’t turn to look. You stayed where you were, your gaze locked on the corpses. The air seemed to grow heavier, oppressive with the weight of death.

“Kid?” a soft voice called out, tentative, careful. A man stepped into view, his face pale beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. He was a detective, judging by the coat slung over his shoulders. His badge glinted faintly at his hip. “Are you… Are you okay?”

You blinked slowly, tilting your head as you finally tore your gaze away from the bodies to look at him. His eyes widened slightly, and he took a step back, as though your stare had unnerved him.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice devoid of emotion.

He crouched down, careful not to step into the blood. His face softened, his voice lowering into a soothing tone, the kind reserved for skittish animals or traumatized children. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m Detective Shiu Kong. Can you tell me your name?”

You told him, your tone as flat as ever. He glanced at the carnage behind you, his jaw tightening. “Did you see anything? Hear anything?”

You shook your head. “No. I just… found them like this.”

His eyes searched your face, looking for signs of tears, fear, something—anything. But you gave him nothing.

Another officer stepped into the room, his hand flying to his mouth as he gagged. “Oh, God… This is… It’s like something out of a nightmare.”

Detective Shiu shot him a look. “Pull it together, Itadori. Go secure the perimeter. Make sure no one contaminates the scene.”

Itadori nodded quickly and left, his footsteps retreating down the hall. Shiu turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening again. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out, I promise. But I need you to come with me, alright? Let’s get you out of here.”

He extended a hand, but you didn’t take it. Instead, you stood on your own, your legs stiff from kneeling so long. Blood clung to your shoes, leaving faint red imprints as you stepped back.

Another officer approached, this one a woman with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. “We’ll need to ask her some questions,” she said softly, her gaze flickering to you. “But let’s give her some time.”

You allowed them to guide you into another room, away from the bodies, though the image was burned into your mind. The house felt colder now, emptier.

Behind you, the investigators began their work. You could hear their voices, low murmurs tinged with horror and disbelief.

“The killer had to have known them. This wasn’t random.”

“Look at the precision of the wounds. This wasn’t just rage—this was deliberate.”

“There’s no sign of forced entry. They let him in.”

The words filtered through the haze in your mind, but you didn’t react. You sat on the edge of a pristine white couch, your hands folded neatly in your lap, your bloodstained fingers leaving faint smears on your skin.

Shiu knelt in front of you, his face lined with concern. “I know this is hard,” he said gently. “But we’re going to catch the person who did this. I promise.”

You met his gaze, your expression blank. Inside, though, something stirred. Catch him? You didn’t want them to catch him. You wanted to understand him.

And for the first time, you spoke a question that sounded innocent, but carried a deeper, darker hunger. “What kind of person would do something like this?”

Shiu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Someone broken. Someone dangerous. But don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.”

Safe. You didn’t care about being safe. You cared about him. About the mind that had created that tableau of death. About the hands that had painted your parents’ blood across the floor.

As the investigation swirled around you, as officers snapped photos and collected evidence, you sat in silence, a strange, budding fascination growing in your chest.

The world wasn’t gray anymore.

For the first time, it was alive with color.

────────────

The interrogation room was a sterile box—a windowless void bathed in the cold fluorescence of a single overhead light. It smelled faintly of bleach and despair, the walls closing in with an oppressive, airless silence. You sat in the center of it, small and motionless, like a porcelain doll abandoned on a shelf. Your hands rested on the table, palms upturned, the faint streaks of your parents’ blood still etched into the creases of your fingers.

On the other side of the glass, the detectives gathered, watching you in a hushed conference of disbelief and unease.

“She hasn’t cried,” one of them murmured, his voice tight. “Not once.”

Detective Shiu, the man who had been first on the scene, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His brow was furrowed, his expression grim. “She’s in shock,” he said quietly. “Or maybe she’s too scared to process what happened. It’s not unusual in kids this young.”

“She’s twelve, Shiu,” another detective said, his voice wavering. “Twelve. I’ve seen kids lose it over their goldfish dying, and she’s sitting there like… like she’s made of stone.”

A younger officer, fresh out of the academy, spoke up hesitantly. “Her siblings… They’re in the next room. Crying their eyes out, clinging to the social workers like lifelines. But her? She hasn’t even asked about them.”

Shiu glanced through the glass, his gaze hardening as he studied you. “Kids process trauma differently. Just because she’s not falling apart doesn’t mean she’s not affected. Hell, it might hit her later—when she’s alone. When there’s no one left to be strong for.”

“Strong?” The younger officer scoffed. “She’s twelve. She shouldn’t have to be strong. She should be screaming for her parents.”

Shiu turned sharply to face him, his voice a low growl. “And what exactly do you expect her to do? She came home and found her parents butchered. Her entire world’s been shattered. Maybe this is her way of surviving it.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on all of them. Beyond the glass, you sat unmoving, your eyes fixed on the corner of the table.

“She’s been sitting like that for over an hour,” the first detective muttered, his gaze flicking nervously toward the one-way mirror. “Not a single word unless we ask her something directly. No tears, no outbursts. Nothing.”

Shiu rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion etched into his features. “What do you want me to say? That it’s normal? It’s not. But we don’t know her. We don’t know what’s going on in her head.”

The younger officer swallowed hard, his voice dropping. “The scene was… It was bad, Shiu. Worse than anything I’ve seen in years. The bodies were staged, for Christ’s sake. Staged like it was some kind of art project. And she sat in the middle of it like she didn’t even see the blood.”

Shiu’s jaw tightened. “I saw it too, rookie. And I’m telling you, that girl isn’t our priority right now. The killer is. Focus on the evidence.”

But the rookie couldn’t let it go. “Did you notice her hands? The way she was staring at them when we brought her in? Like she was memorizing the blood. Like it was… I don’t know, fascinating to her.”

“That’s enough,” Shiu snapped, his voice a blade that cut through the room.

But the words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

The group fell into an uneasy silence as they turned their attention back to you. Inside the room, you shifted slightly, your fingers curling against the table. Your movements were slow, deliberate, as though you were cataloging each sensation—the cool surface of the metal, the faint stickiness of dried blood.

“You said she’s the eldest,” another detective said quietly, breaking the silence. “She’s probably been under pressure her whole life. Heir to the family fortune, right? Big shoes to fill, parents pushing her to be perfect. Maybe she was just… conditioned for this kind of detachment.”

“Maybe,” Shiu muttered, though the doubt in his voice was palpable. “But that doesn’t explain why she’s so damn calm. I’ve seen soldiers with less composure after a firefight.”

Another officer entered the observation room, holding a folder thick with case files and photographs. She set it down on the table with a heavy thud. “Preliminary findings from the scene,” she said. “And it’s… a mess. No forced entry, so the killer either had a key or they were let in. The wounds are precise—surgical, almost. We’re looking at someone with medical training, maybe an ex-surgeon.”

Shiu opened the folder, his eyes scanning the grisly photographs. “Anything else?”

The officer hesitated, then lowered her voice. “The way the bodies were positioned… It wasn’t random. It was deliberate. Like he wanted to send a message. And the kids’ rooms? Untouched. He had the chance to hurt them but didn’t. This was about the parents.”

“Deliberate,” Shiu echoed, his voice a low growl. He glanced at you through the glass, his gaze darkening.

“She’s a victim, Shiu,” the officer said firmly, sensing his hesitation. “Don’t let your gut get in the way of the facts.”

He nodded slowly, though his eyes remained on you. “Get a full psych eval on her as soon as possible. And keep an eye on her siblings. They’ve been through hell.”

As the others filed out, Shiu lingered, his gaze locked on your tiny figure in the interrogation room. Your face was a blank slate, devoid of emotion, your eyes distant, like you were staring into another world entirely.

“Kid,” he murmured under his breath, his voice heavy with pity and unease. “What the hell’s going on in that head of yours?”

Inside the room, you shifted your gaze to the one-way mirror, your expression unreadable. Somewhere deep inside you, beneath the calm, beneath the emptiness, a quiet, gnawing hunger began to stir.

────────────

The funeral was a cold, desolate affair. Rain fell in relentless sheets, drumming against the black umbrellas that formed a sea of mourners. The sky, a bruised expanse of gray, seemed to weep for the tragedy that had hollowed out an entire family. The scent of wet earth and wilting flowers hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sterile tang of grief and formaldehyde.

Six children stood in a line, each a mirror of their parents’ legacy. Their faces bore the delicate symmetry of their bloodline, but grief had marred their perfection. Red-rimmed eyes, trembling hands, and heaving sobs betrayed their anguish. They clung to the adults around them—grandparents, aunts, uncles—like lifelines in an unrelenting storm. All except you.

You stood apart from the others, a silent silhouette against the backdrop of the open grave. Your posture was unnervingly composed, your expression a mask of indifference. The black dress you wore hung loosely on your slight frame, rain streaking the fabric like tears you refused to shed. While your siblings cried openly, you remained still, your gaze fixed not on the caskets being lowered into the ground, but somewhere beyond—into the void.

Detective Shiu watched you from a respectful distance, his sharp eyes missing nothing. The rain plastered his raven hair to his forehead, and his trench coat was soaked through, but he didn’t move. There was something about you that gnawed at him, something that refused to be dismissed as mere shock or stoicism.

When the priest finished his sermon, the mourners began to disperse, their sobs fading into the sound of rain. Shiu approached you cautiously, his boots sinking slightly into the mud with each step. You didn’t acknowledge his presence at first, not until he stopped beside you, his voice low and measured.

“You’re a strong kid,” he said, his tone laden with the kind of empathy that came from years of witnessing human suffering. “Stronger than most adults I’ve met.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes still locked on the horizon.

He followed your gaze, finding nothing but the skeletal outline of trees in the distance. “Your siblings,” he continued, “they’ve got people to lean on. Family. Support. But you…” He hesitated, studying you carefully. “You’ve been handling this on your own, haven’t you?”

Still, you said nothing.

Shiu sighed, his breath misting in the cold air. “I know it feels like the world’s ended. Like nothing makes sense anymore. But it’s okay to let it out, you know. To feel something.”

Finally, you turned to look at him, your expression as blank as the tombstones dotting the cemetery.

Shiu’s jaw tightened, his instincts flaring. He’d spent decades reading people, peeling back the layers they tried to hide. And you… You were like a locked vault, impenetrable and cold.

But then he saw it—a flicker, brief but unmistakable. A spark of something behind your eyes when he shifted the subject.

“The case,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. “We’re working hard to catch whoever did this. It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll get them. I promise you that.”

Your posture changed, barely perceptible. Your shoulders stiffened slightly, and your gaze, previously distant, sharpened just enough for him to notice.

“What do you know so far?” you asked.

The question was casual, but to Shiu, it was like a flare in the dark. Most kids in your position wouldn’t want to hear the details, wouldn’t want to relive the horror. But you… You were curious.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Not much yet. We’re looking into suspects. Someone close to the family, maybe. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. It wasn’t random.”

Your head tilted slightly, your expression unreadable. “Knew what they were doing?”

“Yeah,” Shiu said, his voice lowering. “The wounds were precise. Almost surgical. This wasn’t someone acting out of rage or desperation. It was planned. Methodical.”

For the briefest moment, your lips curved into something resembling a smile, though it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Shiu’s stomach churned.

“You’re interested in the case,” he said, more of an observation than a question.

You shrugged, your gaze drifting back to the open grave. “I just want to know why.”

“Why?”

“Why they did it,” you said simply. “Why my parents. Why like that.”

Shiu studied you for a long moment, his mind racing. He could see it now, the faint glimmer of fascination in your otherwise dead eyes. It wasn’t grief that drove you—it was curiosity. And that disturbed him more than he cared to admit.

“I’ll let you know when we find something,” he said finally, his voice tight.

You nodded, turning away from him and back to the grave as the caskets disappeared into the earth.

As Shiu walked away, a cold dread settled in his chest. He didn’t have proof, not yet. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t just a victim of this tragedy. You were something else entirely. Something he couldn’t name.

And deep down, he wondered if the killer hadn’t just taken your parents. He wondered if, in some twisted way, they’d awakened something in you.

Something that would never go back to sleep.

────────────

Detective Shiu Kong leaned back in his chair, the muted hum of the interrogation room’s fluorescent lights buzzing in his ears. Across the table, you sat motionless, hands folded neatly in your lap, posture unnaturally straight for someone your age. The muted gray walls and steel table seemed to swallow you whole, a tiny figure in an oppressive void. Your face was calm, eerily so—no tears, no tremors, no reddened eyes like your siblings. Just that neutral, detached expression, as if you were waiting out a dull lecture at school.

The detective studied you, his brow furrowed. His years as a profiler had trained him to see what others couldn’t, to read the nuances of behavior that betrayed inner turmoil. But with you? It was a blank slate. No tells, no cracks in the armor. If anything, your stillness felt intentional, like the quiet before the eye of a storm.

“It takes a village to make a killer,” Shiu said, breaking the heavy silence. His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the clinical environment around you. “Someone doesn’t just wake up one day and decide to do what they did to your parents. It’s… fragile, the way a person breaks.”

You said nothing, but your gaze flicked to him for the briefest of moments before returning to the cold metal surface of the table. It wasn’t much, but he saw it—a faint glimmer of something. Interest? Annoyance? He wasn’t sure.

Shiu exhaled, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. “I know you don’t like to talk much,” he continued. “And I’m not here to force you. But… I’m curious. You’ve been through something no one should ever have to experience. I’d like to hear your thoughts. About the case.”

You finally moved, tilting your head slightly, your eyes narrowing as you studied him. For a moment, he thought you wouldn’t respond. Then, softly, you spoke. Your voice was quiet but carried a certain weight, an eerie calmness that unsettled even him.

“They weren’t sloppy,” you said, almost to yourself. “Not at all.”

Shiu leaned forward, elbows on the table, nodding for you to continue.

“The cuts,” you said, your tone clinical, detached. “Precise. Efficient. The carotid artery was severed on my mother. Do you know how hard it is to make that cut on the first attempt? There’s a lot of tissue in the way—muscle, skin. It’s easy to miss. But they didn’t. They knew exactly what they were doing.”

Shiu’s eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you unravel your thoughts.

“And my father,” you continued, your voice taking on a rhythm now, faster, like a scientist presenting a theory. “They cracked his sternum. That requires force—an immense amount of it. Whoever did this either used a tool, or they’re physically very strong. Maybe both.”

You leaned back slightly, a faint crease forming between your brows. “But it wasn’t random. They didn’t damage the lungs. Or the heart. That’s unusual for a chest cavity opening, isn’t it?”

Shiu’s lips parted slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in surprise. “You’re right,” he admitted. “It is unusual. We assumed they were interrupted before finishing.”

You shook your head, the first real emotion flickering across your face—a faint, almost imperceptible trace of impatience. “No. That wasn’t the point. It wasn’t an unfinished job. It was… intentional. A display. Like they wanted us to see inside him.”

Shiu stared at you, his mind working overtime to process your words. “A display,” he repeated. “You think it was symbolic?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice tinged with a strange, almost morbid fascination. “Or maybe it’s a message. They took care to leave certain things intact. Why? If it was just rage, they’d have destroyed everything. But they didn’t. It’s methodical. Almost surgical.”

The room felt colder now, the air thick with tension. Shiu leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours. “And what do you think they’re trying to say?”

For the first time, you hesitated, your gaze dropping to the table. Then you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “That they’re better than us. Smarter. More… evolved.”

The words hung in the air like a blade poised to drop. Shiu studied you, his chest tight with unease. There was something about the way you spoke—not just the content, but the tone. Detached, yet brimming with an almost manic curiosity. It reminded him of someone dissecting a rare specimen under a microscope.

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” he said carefully.

You shrugged, your shoulders barely moving. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Everything else is just… noise.”

Shiu’s brow furrowed, his gut instinct screaming at him. “You’re not like your siblings,” he said finally. “They cry. They grieve. You… don’t.”

Your gaze snapped to his, sharp and unyielding. “Is that what you want? Tears?” There was no malice in your tone, only a quiet challenge. “Would that make it easier for you to understand?”

Shiu didn’t flinch, but he felt the weight of your words settle heavily on his shoulders. “No,” he said softly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze dropping back to the table. The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. Shiu sat back, exhaling slowly.

“You’re smart,” he said finally. “Smarter than you let on.”

You said nothing, but the faintest flicker of an annoyed smile ghosted across your lips—a blink-and-you-miss-it moment that sent a chill down Shiu’s spine.

He knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you weren’t just a victim in this story. You were something else entirely. Something he couldn’t quite put into words, but that set every instinct on edge.

And as he walked out of the room that day, he made a silent promise to himself: he’d watch you. Not out of pity or duty, but because deep down, he knew that whatever path you were heading down, it was one he couldn’t ignore.

────────────

Detective Shiu Kong had seen too many young lives derailed by tragedy, twisted by trauma, but you—there was something about you that unsettled him deeply. It wasn’t just the apathy, the emptiness that radiated off you like a thick, suffocating fog. It was the moments where that apathy cracked, and something far more dangerous seeped through—an unnatural hunger, a sharpness to your gaze that reminded him of a predator observing prey.

Your family, as it turned out, hadn’t cared for you in the way families were supposed to. It was in the brittle silences of the house you were now trapped in, the way the distant relatives who took over arrangements barely addressed you, their perfunctory actions revealing more about duty than love. Your siblings clung to one another, huddling for warmth against the cold, but you stayed apart.

Always apart.

Watching.

Thinking.

Silent.

———

Shiu didn’t know what compelled him to watch over you.

He was a man who worked alone, who didn’t believe in getting attached to anyone, least of all children with gaping wounds that no amount of therapy could stitch closed.

But every instinct in his body screamed that you were a ticking bomb, and he couldn’t ignore it.

He noticed the small, alarming habits first. The way you would skip meals for days on end, your thin frame growing even thinner. The way you could sit for hours, unmoving, staring at the same spot on the wall like you were seeing something no one else could. The way you seemed to breathe only out of necessity.

Yet when the topic of death, of cases, came up, you transformed. Your eyes would sharpen, your monotone voice would take on a rhythm, a tremor of something almost joyous.

“You know, not eating won’t make the pain disappear,” he told you one day, sitting across from you in the dim light of the room you had claimed as your own. The windows were closed, the air stale.

You didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him. But then, in the stillness, you said, “What was the autopsy report for the victim in the Wyler case?”

Shiu blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not eating, and that’s what you’re interested in?”

“Yes,” you replied simply, turning your head just slightly to meet his gaze. Your eyes weren’t those of a child’s. They were ancient and cold, dissecting him. “The way they were dismembered. There were inconsistencies in the photos. It didn’t seem... human.”

For a moment, Shiu wondered if he should leave, report you to someone better equipped to handle whatever this was.

But then he sighed, his professional curiosity outweighing his unease. “The dismemberment wasn’t human, not entirely,” he admitted. “The killer used a custom blade, likely self-made. Something serrated, designed to maximize tissue damage while minimizing effort. Efficient but cruel.”

You sat up, for the first time showing a glimmer of true interest. “Efficient but cruel,” you murmured, as if tasting the words. “Like they wanted to see how far they could go before the body failed. A test, maybe.”

Shiu raised a brow. “That’s a very specific theory.”

You shrugged. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Make theories?”

Shiu leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “You realize this isn’t normal for someone your age, right?”

“Normal is boring,” you replied, your voice flat but tinged with something darker. “And you keep talking to me. So, maybe I’m useful to you.”

Shiu didn’t have an answer to that. He didn’t want to admit you were right.

———

Over the weeks, he started bringing you details of cases—not the classified, sensitive material, but enough to give you a taste of what he was dealing with. It was against protocol, sure, but Shiu wasn’t stupid. He saw how your apathy shifted when you had something to analyze.

It wasn’t about healing you; it was about keeping you from descending into something far worse.

“What do you see here?” he asked one evening, spreading out crime scene photos on the desk between you. The images were brutal—blood splatter patterns streaked across concrete walls, a body slumped in the corner, its throat carved open with surgical precision.

You leaned in, your fingers tracing the edges of one photo. “The blood arc here,” you said, pointing to a particularly vivid spray. “It’s too high for someone who’s left-handed.”

Shiu frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Because if they were left-handed, the angle would’ve been sharper, closer to this direction.” You gestured with your hand, mimicking the trajectory. “They used their right hand to strike, but... they weren’t dominant with it. See how the arc stutters here? Like they hesitated.”

Shiu stared at the photo, then at you. “That’s... not bad,” he said cautiously. “But why would they use their non-dominant hand?”

“To confuse you,” you replied, your tone matter-of-fact. “Throw off the profile. They’re probably ambidextrous, but they want you to think they’re clumsy. A false lead.”

Shiu shook his head, a grim smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got a knack for this.”

You looked at him, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something almost resembling emotion.

“I want to do what you do,” you said. “Study them. Understand them. I think... I could be good at it.”

Shiu’s chest tightened. He wanted to tell you no, to tell you to choose something else, something lighter, but he knew it would be a lie.

You weren’t meant for light.

You thrived in the shadows, where the unspeakable lived.

“All right,” he said after a long pause. “But if you’re serious about this, you need to take it seriously. No more skipping meals. No more locking yourself away. You put in the effort, or you don’t do it at all.”

You tilted your head, as if considering his words, and then nodded. “Deal.”

Shiu watched you carefully as you returned your attention to the photos, the faintest hint of life returning to your features. He didn’t know if he was helping you or enabling something far worse, but one thing was certain: you weren’t a victim anymore.

You were something else entirely.

────────────

The years between 12 and 18 passed like a blur of clinical precision and relentless hunger. You became the youngest graduate in criminal profiling, earning honors, accolades, and the kind of begrudging respect that even the most senior officers had to acknowledge.

But for all the brilliance you displayed on paper, your presence unnerved people. Outside of work, you remained distant, a spectral figure with dead eyes and an air of quiet detachment. In social settings, you were polite but devoid of warmth, a mannequin in human form.

In the field, however, you were a force of nature. Cases brought you to life in a way nothing else could. It wasn’t just work to you—it was an obsession, an itch buried deep in your psyche that only bloodied crime scenes and twisted puzzles could scratch.

To most, your drive was admirable, a testament to youthful ambition. To those who worked with you, it was terrifying.

———

It had been a week since the “Red Veil Butcher” case had been closed. A particularly brutal spree killer who targeted victims with surgical precision, leaving behind bodies that were less human than anatomical exhibits.

The debrief was supposed to be routine, a moment of closure for the department. The victim’s family was present, a grieving mother clutching her child’s scarf like it was the last tether to her sanity. Officers murmured words of comfort, offering coffee and awkward pats on her shoulder. You sat in the corner, silent, observing the proceedings like they were an annoying obstacle.

When one of the senior officers asked you for your thoughts, you didn’t hesitate.

“The mother missed key signs,” you said bluntly. “The killer stalked her daughter for months, even sent warning letters. She should’ve contacted the police earlier.”

The room went silent, save for the soft, choked sobs of the grieving mother. Every pair of eyes turned to you, wide with disbelief.

“Jesus Christ, have some empathy!” one of the officers hissed. “That’s her child.”

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “It’s the truth. She ignored the signs, and the result was fatal. If anything, she should—”

“Enough!” The commanding officer’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Leave. Now.”

You left without another word, though the rage simmering behind you was palpable.

———

Shiu Kong didn’t call you immediately. He waited, as he always did, giving you time to simmer in your own thoughts.

When he finally summoned you to his office, the look on his face was enough to tell you this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it.

You shrugged. “I said what needed to be said. She was negligent—”

“Stop,” Shiu snapped. “Do you think that helps anyone? Do you think saying that to a grieving mother is going to bring her daughter back? Or make her feel anything other than guilt?”

You narrowed your eyes. “It’s not about feelings. It’s about preventing the next victim. If people understood the consequences of their negligence—”

“This isn’t just about logic!” Shiu slammed his hand on the desk, making you flinch ever so slightly.

“Do you know why you’re still here, why you haven’t been pulled from this line of work entirely? Because you’re good. Damned good. But if you can’t figure out how to make people listen to you without alienating them, you’re useless. Do you understand that?”

You looked away, lips pressed into a thin line.

Shiu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I know you don’t care about people. I know empathy doesn’t come naturally to you, and I’m not asking you to fake something you’re not. But you need to learn how to communicate in a way that gets results. That means learning how to mask your apathy, at least enough that people aren’t too angry or upset to work with you.”

“That’s... illogical,” you muttered. “Why should I—”

“Because obstruction is your worst enemy,” Shiu interrupted, his tone softening slightly. “And you hate inefficiency, don’t you?”

You froze, his words striking a chord deep within you.

“You don’t do this for glory or fame,” Shiu continued.

“You do it because solving cases is what makes you tick. So think of this as another skill to master—another tool in your arsenal. Learn how to handle people, or you’ll be left behind. And I won’t be able to protect you.”

You hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod. “Fine.”

———

You weren’t perfect, but you adapted. You learned how to soften your edges, how to mimic the empathy that people expected. You nodded at grieving families, offered hollow condolences, and kept your cutting observations to yourself until you were behind closed doors.

It was exhausting, like wearing a second skin that didn’t quite fit, but it worked. People stopped glaring at you. They started listening.

But in private, in the confines of your work, you were the same. Clinical. Relentless. Brilliant.

———

Shiu handed you a file one evening, his expression unreadable. “This one’s tricky,” he said. “The killer calls themselves ‘Red Rose.’ They leave roses at every crime scene, but no fingerprints, no DNA. Just the flowers.”

You opened the file, scanning the photos. The victims were posed in strange, almost reverent positions, their bodies adorned with thorny vines.

“They’re making a statement,” you said after a moment. “The roses aren’t just a calling card. They’re part of the ritual.”

Shiu nodded. “That’s what we think too. But what’s the message?”

You studied the photos in silence, then pointed to a small detail in one of the images. “Look at the way the vines are arranged. They’re covering the victim’s mouth and eyes, but not their ears. It’s symbolic. They’re saying... ‘Listen.’”

Shiu raised a brow. “To what?”

“To them,” you replied. “The killer thinks they’re silencing liars, people who ‘speak falsehoods’ or ‘see evil.’ They want their truth to be heard.”

Shiu leaned back, impressed despite himself. “You’ve got a knack for getting into their heads.”

You allowed yourself a small, almost imperceptible smile. “It’s what I do.”

By 18, you had built a reputation as one of the youngest, most promising criminal profilers in the field.

But Shiu knew the truth—you weren’t doing this out of a sense of justice or duty. You were chasing something deeper, darker.

And he watched, always wary, always waiting, knowing that one day, he might have to make a choice: save you from yourself, or let you burn.

────────────

It began as a whisper, a quiet, insidious thought that crawled into the back of your mind during the early years of your work. It wasn’t the murders themselves that fascinated you—though you would sometimes lie awake at night replaying the crime scenes in your head, each bloody tableau etched with clinical precision.

No, it was the murderers. The way their minds worked, their audacity to play God.

It was intoxicating.

You told yourself it was professional interest.

Shiu Kong often praised your ability to get into a killer’s head, to see the world through their eyes. It was why you were the best.

But you knew better. There was something else, something primal and shameful, that pulled you toward them like gravity. You could feel it in your chest, a tight, hot coil of hunger every time you interrogated one.

———

The first time it happened, you told yourself it was a mistake.

A lapse in judgment.

He was a sadist, a monster who had strangled six women in their own beds. You were supposed to be observing him, studying him.

Instead, you found yourself leaning closer, your breath hitching when his hand brushed yours. He smiled—a predator’s smile, sharp and knowing. He saw right through you, into the dark, hollow place you kept hidden from everyone, even yourself.

“You love danger, don’t you?” he had whispered, his voice like velvet laced with barbed wire.

You didn’t answer, but your silence spoke volumes.

Later that night, you visited him in his cell. The guards had left for their rounds, and the shadows swallowed the room whole.

It was dangerous. Reckless.

But when he pinned you against the cold, unforgiving bars, you had never felt more alive. His hands were rough, his grip bruising, and you let him do whatever he wanted.

You didn’t care about the consequences, only the searing heat in your veins and the dizzying high of being so close to death.

———

After that, it became a pattern.

You were careful—always careful. You never left evidence, never allowed your encounters to interfere with your cases. To the world, you were still the brilliant, detached profiler who closed cases with surgical precision.

But in the shadows, you lived for the moments when a killer’s hands wrapped around your throat, when you could feel their breath on your skin and the sharp edge of a blade against your flesh.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even lust, not in the conventional sense.

You didn’t care about them as people, and you certainly didn’t want a relationship. It was the power, the thrill of standing at the edge of the abyss and staring into the void. You were the perfect submissive, but not because you wanted to be controlled. You wanted to be consumed.

And then, when the moment came, you turned the tables.

They thought they had you, that you were theirs to break and discard. But you were always one step ahead. You let them believe they had won, let them take their pleasure and their power. And then you crushed them. Every time, without fail, you closed the case.

They ended up behind bars, or dead, and you walked away unscathed. It was a game, a twisted chess match where you always had the final move.

———

But there was one killer you hadn’t found yet. The one who had started it all.

Your parents’ murderer.

He was the first, the one who had opened your eyes to the beauty of chaos and the fragility of life.

You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. In a way, you were grateful to him. He had given you purpose, a reason to exist.

And yet, you wanted him more than anyone else.

Not to love him. Not even to kill him. You wanted to stand before him, to feel his hands on your skin, to let him carve his mark into you like he had carved it into your family. You wanted him to take you apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

And then you would destroy him.

Each case you worked on felt like a step closer to him, even though you knew it wasn’t. You chased every lead, interrogated every suspect with the same cold, detached intensity.

But when they weren’t him, you felt a pang of disappointment, a hollow ache that no amount of blood or violence could fill.

Every killer you encountered was a pale imitation, a placeholder to fill the void until you found him. You imagined what it would be like to face him, to feel his hands on your throat, to hear his voice whispering in your ear. The thought made your heart race, your breath quicken.

And, you never stopped. You couldn’t. He was out there somewhere, watching, waiting. And you would find him.

He was the endgame, the final piece of the puzzle.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Forbidden Fruits”: @uniquecutie-puffs , @belovedoftheanemoarchon , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07 , @jsprien213 , @crimson-kisses , @tinandabin , @sashakittycloud , @songbirdgardensworld , @monamuskay

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

[dollyyun]

🗂️ wip tag game! 🗂️

make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. tag as many people as you have WIPs. people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

ruby's note: thank you my beautiful kaykay @wwooyology for the tag <3 as much as i adore my current fic ideas/wip, I can't guarantee when or if these would be released because i'm obv a slow writer and writers block often get my ass, and lastly, my hyperfixation is terrible (adhd things). motivation plays a huge role too. but I do hope that these drafts would be released before the day I decide to retire from writing :3 also you are welcome to ask about any of my wip! I love yapping about my fic ideas to someone (mama aj is my victim most of the time)

WIP LIST

HYUNG LINE

one shot fics: 1-800-hot-and-fun - (reverse harem/poly, camgirl!reader) lost in the heat - (older alpha!hyung line x omega!reader; one shot, reverse harem/poly, 5 years age gap) bloody prey - (ghostface!hyung line who are also vampires, human!reader, psycho killers, yanderes) series: sector 1: the outbreak - (inspired by resident evil, dystopia-ish, horror, apocalypse, fantasy-ish element, morally grey characters, federal agents, mercenaries, and more, reverse harem) twisted games - (mafia princes!hyung line series; different tropes w reader - ex-lovers, arranged marriage element, ex-childhood best friends, fiancé’s brother, reverse harem) gods and monsters - (supernatural villains!hyung line x hunter!reader, inspired by lad otome game, hyung line characters inspired by lad male leads, reverse harem) game on, players - (ice hockey players!hyung line, reverse harem)

HEESEUNG

one shot fics: i wish i hated you - (ex-lovers to strangers to lovers, fake dating, angst) 2 hands - (f1racer!heeseung x popstar!reader, long distance relationship kinda but they’re on a break, angst) my undercover lover - (hitman!heeseung x sweet girlfriend!reader, soft love kinda, angst) hush - (older brother’s best friend, one-sided love-ish, light angst) sweetheart - (dad’s best friend, heeseung is 39 and reader is 21, soft love) you're losing me - (arranged marriage, husband!heeseung, heavy angst)

JAY

one shot fics: call it what you want - (older sugar daddy!jay; strangers to lovers, 12 years age gap, jay’s a huge simp and a loverboy) close to you - (underground fighter!jay x highschool teacher!reader, single dad!jay, 5 years age gap, angst) better man - (hitman!jay, ex-lovers to strangers to lovers, secret child trope, angst) into you - (bodyguard!jay x mafia princess!reader, strangers to lovers, grumpy x sunshine)

JAKE

one shot fics: hopelessly yours - (ice hockey player!jake x ice hockey player!reader; rivals-enemies to lovers, next-door neighbours, angst) supernatural - (husband!jake, arranged marriage but they get along well, soft love, fluffs, green flag jake) dangerous woman (hitman!jake x agent!reader, golden retriever x black cat, jake is a huge simp for grumpy-nonchalant reader)

SUNGHOON

one shot fics: right where you left me - (hitman!sunghoon; ex lovers to strangers to lovers, angst) down bad - (best friend’s older brother!sunghoon, cold grumpy x wild sunshine, angst)

JUNGWON

one shot fics: stuck with you - (best friends to lovers, unrequited love kinda) babydoll - (street racer!jungwon x shy good girl!reader, semi-college au)

MAKNAE LIKE

series: devil’s knights’ game - (spinoff, poly/reverse harem)

OT7

series: the heirs - (ootg revamped) eternal curse - (revamped)

tagging: anyone who wants to join <3

[dove-net]

𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓽 : 𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒 𝒷𝓎 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝒽𝑒

here you can find links to each of the niches we currently cover. if you have a recommendation for a niche, send it to the network inbox. to get your fic listed/promoted, please visit how to promote.

remember: the use of any of these tropes in fanfiction is not a mark of someone's morality and does not mean they condone the application of these tropes in real life.

εїз — a/b/o εїз — age gap εїз — age play εїз — baby trapping εїз — bdsm εїз — blasphemy εїз — blood play εїз — bottom!idol εїз — cheating εїз — consent nonconsent εїз — cuckhold εїз — dark themes εїз — dead dove εїз — drugs εїз — dubcon εїз — exhibitionism εїз — fear play εїз — group sex εїз — harem εїз — horror εїз — hybrid εїз — kidnapping εїз — men in lingerie εїз — morally grey εїз — m-preg εїз — monsters εїз — non-english fics εїз — not fem reader εїз — paranormal εїз — period sex εїз — pegging εїз — pet play εїз — polyamory εїз — power imbalance εїз — predator/prey εїз — serial killer* εїз — somnophilia εїз — stalking εїз — stepcest εїз — stockholm syndrome** εїз — sub!idol εїз — threesome εїз — watersports εїз — voyeurism εїз — yandere

＊serial killer fics included this network must not be based on real life. this bridges reality in a way that can be fetishizing, disrespectful to the victims, etc. ＊＊stockholm syndrome is not an academically accepted theory, but for the purposes of fanfiction we will wave this.

୨⎯ 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝓷𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 ⎯୧

[suiana]

need more killer harem and organ seller

(yandere! killer harem x gn! organ seller reader) (first fic of 2024 oh em gee 😋😋)

"it's going to be 2024."

"yeah."

you reply to his statement as you stand motionlessly, staring up at the night sky as your provider for the day stands beside you. you tug at your turtleneck sweater nervously, avoiding his gaze as you attempt to ignore how he inches closer to you with each passing second.

you two remain silent after that, him staring affectionately at you and you standing awkwardly beside him. you nervously eye the railing you leaned against, watching as the crowd below you engages in merry discussion. gulping awkwardly, you play with your hands as you mentally curse yourself for deciding to accept his offer of watching the new year's fireworks with him. you should've known better than to accept one of your lovesick admirers hand in something so romantic.

plus, it's not like you did anything like this for any of your other partners. sure, you kissed a few, held some tenderly, indulged multiple on dates, maybe even fucked one or two... but you've never agreed to watch fireworks like lovers do! speaking of which...

it's almost creepy how each and every one of your business partners turn out infatuated with you one way or another. was it the air? was it because they were all mentally insane? you don't know and you couldn't bother to care. because the more you know, the deeper you fall into the rabbit hole of their lives.

so you don't know why you've decided to indulge this organ provider for today. especially since... he looks more deranged than the rest.

"hey, can i ask something?"

he asks, staring at you with that same creepy smile that sends chills up your spine. yet, you nod in response to his question. he simply laughs at that, turning to look at the night sky before mumbling softly.

"would you choose me out of everyone else?"

you pause, looking at him with narrowed eyes before shaking your head. you're not going to entertain any nonsense. you knew you should've left earlier-

"mn... that's too bad. i would've chosen you in a crowd of others. it hurts me to know you wouldn't do the same."

he holds your wrist tightly, mumbling in faux hurt as he smiles eerily at you. you freeze, not moving as you glare at your business partner. damn, you can't believe you actually agreed to be here with him in the first place.

"let go."

"nah. i like holding you."

you grit your teeth, but do nothing to break free as you continue to stare at him. he merely hums in response, smiling as he looks across the city skyline.

all of a sudden, he pins you to the railing, face way too close for comfort.

"mn... you're so cute like this... can i kiss you?"

you squirm under his grip, heart beating loudly as all you can focus on is his eager face.

"g-get off!"

you huff, pushing at his chest as you sweat nervously. shit, he could easily push you over the railing and you'd be mush like some of his victims- that's when you felt his lips brush against yours, kissing your cheek as his hands go to the back of your neck.

you stop in place, looking up as he pulls away only to realize that it was a new year. your fingers gently touch your cheek as you eye him. he didn't kiss you on the lips? what was he up to?

"haha! how silly you are. i just wanted to give you a new year's present. don't be so tense."

he gestures to the necklace around your neck. ah... so that's what he did...

"and there was ice cream on your face from just now. didn't tell you cause i thought you'd notice but you're much more clumsier than i thought! don't worry, i cleaned it for ya. free of charge~"

he winks at you before grinning.

"happy new year. i hope you'll make the right choice when the time comes."

he then waves at you before turning around, leaving you alone to you thoughts as the sound of the fireworks takes your attention. right choice huh... was this a sign that your business partners were planning something? you sure hope not...

you wouldn't want to have to make such a difficult choice. especially since choosing just one would mean you'd make enemies out of the rest. you sigh out, rubbing your temples before leaning against the railing again. oh well, you'll just enjoy the pretty display for now. after all, that's what you came for. you'll deal with the problems later.

"...happy new year, i guess."

yeah, what a happy new year this year will be :)

[dystopyx-blog]

yandere slashers

FORMAT

Name: slasher personality type — slasher type — yandere type — slasher inspiration/s

THE YANDERES

Spencer: Cold and Calculated — mortal — manipulative — Ghostface

Definitely wears a mask and one of those little half cloak thingies -- with the hood -- basically a poncho but like edgy ig. Also mans is a serial killer, ofc hes manipulative. Hes a charmer.

Leonard/Lenny: Strong and Silent — above mortal — protective — leather face, Michael myers.

LEAVE ME ALONE I LIKE BIG STRONG SILENT PROTECTIVE TYPES this is MY yandere slasher harem, let me have this

Arficer: Parasitic — supernatural — possessive — pinhead, Freddy Krueger (vomits a little)

Your slightly Parasitic supernatural yandere firmly believes you belong to him and no one else <3 ain't that cute? your the cute lil human he's attached to, you belong to him as much as he belongs to you <3 (okay but maybe you belong to him an eensy bit more)

Eddie: Unhinged — revenant — obsessive — Billy lens, Brahms heelshire

AFGAFHXRTY I LIKE EM DERANGED. 10000% the type to sit on your counter like a fuckin cat 🫵🫵

Happy (or Dizzy? Still undecided): Animalistic — demonic — delusional 1 — pennywise, art the clown

I love clowns <3 even when they're absolutely fuckin unhinged. Maybe especially idk. This one's the type to wrap an inhumanly long tongue around your entire fucking head and neck and tell you taste delicious, and in his mind it is highest praise, especially since he'd never ever eat you!! (Unless you die, he'd totally eat your corpse, but he'd never kill you!!!) He just loves you so much 🥺 you're his pookie ❤️

Glen: Mad Scientist — inhuman — delusional 2 — Herbert West

genuinely just full heartedly believes you two are in a relationship. Youre his house spouse. While he works in his lab in the basement, youre being his cute house spouse upstairs! Hrs truly blessed and loves you dearly <3

Hey wait a second... how'd you end up with this harem in the first place?!

Silly you, it's on you for buying the suspiciously cheap mansion on the very outskirts of town and the edge of the forest! Eddie, Arficer, Happy, and Lenny basically came with the house. Glen's lab is in the basement. And Spencie used it as an emergency hideout looking before you moved in. Man, maybe they're right to feel entitled to you? (They're not, they're literally yandere slashers.)

[eaterofman]

Masterlist

Yandere Coworker Harem

Introduction

A Meeting With The CEO

Yandere Vampire Neighbor

Introduction (NSFW)

Yandere Serial Killer

Yandere Serial Killer x Detective Reader

[blerdyotome]

Romancing a harem of horny yandere boys in the indie otome game, Heart Cage! Slightly edited version of my Twitch stream of the extended demo. You are a detective who has just moved to a new town. You are involved in a serial killer case, and three mysterious residents (Or more?!) are approaching you! Don't trust anyone! But... can you?

[matcha-berry]

current fave yandere x Oc/reader fics on quotev & wattpad (because when i have a huge brainrot, I tend to forego where i'm reading. anyway, quotev is peak idc)

Wattpad:

Infatuation (duh, it's like the og. i've had it in my library and religiously reread it since i was a 9th grader. I'm a colllege grad now)

Seven Deadly Sins (pls, i can't with this being unfinished. i hope the author's doing okay though, it is very worrying how they just suddenly stopped)

Tsunami (a juvia!oc x yandere jjk fic AND IT IS AMAZING. Haven't gotten around to reading the sequel book since i have put off reading the jjk manga for a good year)

Arsenic Blues (it's a genderbend Percy Jackson in the Record of Ragnarok vers. It's so good)

Quotev:

Casualties (i love, love, love this.)

Anomalous (same author as casualties, and both are updated, give or take, every two weeks. the characters in there stories are just *chef's kiss*

Pretty Red Rose (it's a genderbend yansim fic and well, i haven't even played that yet, but this one is a 10/10 for the manipulative, emotionally detached reader)

Object of Desire (if ur in the mha fandom, the author's other fic, Changing History, is also amazing)

First Mate's Aid (it hasn't updated since 2021 😥 but like, it went a whole year without updating then suddenly updated two chaps so not all hope is lost)

Steel on Glass (THIS. IS. ART.)

Spooky vibes (great, supernatural harem, the author also has other great fics)

Submerge (not much yandere-ing at the moment, but i love the writing and its mermaids/sea creature myths)

Deadly Roommate (retired Assasin x serial killer. Need i say more?)

Candy Land (also one that hasn't updated for almost a year)

The Martyrdom of a final girl (the mystery elements is great and it also hasn't updated in a year so :/)

Lady out of Time

It's a pain to be a princess (genderbended disney princesses, it deals with a lot of sensitive topics)

My Beloved Queen (This. Is. Art. Part 2. It's also on Wattpad !!)

Changing Plotlines (also very good!)

[darkspicyevanstan]

⚡️ Alternate Universes ⚡️

View the AU prompts below the cut!

 Actor

Ancient Civilization

Archaeologist

Artist

 Assassins & Hitmen

Atlantean

Author

 Bakery

Ballet

Band

Bartender

Biker

Blogger

Boarding School

Bodyguard

 Cafe/Coffee Shop

 Canon Divergence 

Celebrity

Changeling

 Characters with the Same Actor are Related 

 College/University 

Con Artist

Country Singer

Crime Thriller

 Crossover

Cult

 Dark Fairytale

 Detective

 Dimension Travel

Doctor

Escort

 Fandom Specific 💥

 Fantasy ⚡️

Flower Shop

 Forest

 Fusion 

 Firefighter 

Fisherman

Fortune Teller

Game Show

Gangster

Glee Club

 Gothic Fiction ⚡️

Guardian Angel

Harlequin Romance

Harem

Heist

 Historical ⚡️

Hollow Earth

 Horror ⚡️

Hospital

 Hotel 

Human/No Powers

Hunter

Hybrid

Journalist

Law School

Lawyer

 Librarian

Lifeguard

 Mafia

 Magic 

Medical School

 Mental Asylum

Middle-Earth

 Mirror-verse 

Mob

 Modern

Multiverse

Murder Mystery

Musical Festival

Musician

 Mythology - All Types

 Neighbors 

Ninja

Nobility

Noir

Nurse

Olympics

 Omegaverse 

Contemporary

Dark

Modern

Non Traditional

Omegaarcy

Post Modern

Traditional

Painter

Parallel Universe

 Paranormal

 Pirates 

 Police 

 Politics 

Popstar

Pornstar

 Post-Canon 

 Pre-Canon 

President

Professor

Psychiatrist

Psychologist

 Punk Fiction ⚡️

Rare Antiques Shop

Reality TV Show

 Reincarnation 

Rockstar

 Role Reversal 

 Royalty

Scientist

Sculptor

Serial Killer

Slice-of-Life

Social Media

 Soulbonds/Soulmates 

 Space Travel

 Speculative Fiction ⚡️

 Spies & Secret Agents 

 Spirits 

Sports

Stalker

Subterranean

 Sugar Daddy 

Summer Camp

 Supernatural

 Superpowers 

 Tattoo Parlor

 Tea Shop

Teacher

Therapist

 Thieves

 Time Travel

Twitch Streamer

 Villain Wins

War

Wild West

 Wings 

Witchcraft

Yandere World

Youtuber

💥 - See Fandom AUs

⚡️- See Literary Forms