#yandere roman sionis x you

[yandere-wishes]

⭒ㅤׂ Do You Think We'll Be In Love Forever? ㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere!DC Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝒷𝓈𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 ♡ ｡ ゜

​𓆩☾𓆪 Nightwing - Dick Grayson | بالشب - دیک گریسون

He's mesmerized by the sight of you between his arms. Definite little doll smiling up at him through tear-soaked eyes. He floods your essence with saccharine kisses, sweet vows, and anguished 'I love yous' all paying testimony to his sugar-laced obsession. He's desperate to taste your sweetness on his tongue, lick through your flesh like a lollipop, and unravel your bones with his teeth.

He had been so young once, chasing virtue and strength into every dark alleyway, following bats and hope into vicious nights. Back then, he hadn't understood his mentor's desperation for paper-thin kisses and phony love. But now feeling the push of your body beneath his fingertips makes him understand how satisfying real love can be. To observe you in the sun's gentle rays. To feel your body curled next to his on cold nights. He plays hero under the moon's watchful gaze only to return home to you upon daybreak.

❀࿔ Red Hood - Jason Todd | نقاب قرمز - جیسون تاد

He glides your fingers across his scars, shuddering under the weight of your touch. Stardust cauterizes ancient wounds, licking away the rotten grime. Jason clenches his teeth, there's something so intimidating about the softness of your touch. It stings worse than any crowbar or bullet wound, intruding, harrowing. It's almost like you're plucking the constellations of his past from under his skin, trying to rearrange the stars into something cathartic.

He can't help the hapless way his nails scratch across your bones, the gurgling laugh that escapes his throat. You're Elizabeth Lavenza and Ophelia trying to mend a broken boy, with your wry smile and terrified eyes. Jason traces his lips across yours, his kiss is ravenous, frantic. Faux-hero desperate for an inkling of love, of bliss, of softness.

´ཀ` Arkham Knight - Jason Todd | سلحشور آرکام - جیسون تاد

He likes to think he's shed his human skin long ago. Left it to die in that burning warehouse with his old mask and youth. But when he hears your laughter, that haunting echo reverberates off the edifice walls. He can't help but think maybe, just maybe a trace of humanity still lingers beneath his armor. Your smile glares at him in every carmine puddle he treks through. He dreams it's your blood marring his gauntlets, syrupy sweet as he licks them clean. Daydreams about your ethereal face painted in reds and purples by his iron-clad hands.

His kisses are razor blades cutting through your lips, forcing his love down your throat, and watching as you choke on the rust and ache. He's trying to merge two bodies into one void, to engulf you. Mirror his scars upon your flesh with dull knives and jagged fingernails. He kisses you again, you swear you're going to drown in his sea of red. Maybe that's all the love he has left. He

｡♦｡ Red Robin - Tim Drake | رابین قرمز- تیم دریک

He plays hero in the night, little bird chasing villains and evil by moonlight. When he blinks it's you he sees lying on the couch watching TV. He's starting to think you're his favorite show, afterall your window is about the size of a flat-screen TV and he's always too eager to peak through for the next screening. Episode 84, you're hugging your favorite teddy bear, lost in euphoria as your knuckles turn white around the controller. Tim watches heart in his throat as you claw out the boss's eyes. Sanctimonious champion vying to save the holy princess.

Tim bites his fingers, addresses each tooth mark to you. He pens his love letters upon his own skin, sealing them in red when he finally punctures through. Maybe life is just a video game, an endless kaleidoscope of cutscenes. And he's just a besotted hero dying to kiss the precious princess who doesn't even know he exists.

ꨄ︎ Robin - Damian Wayne| سینه‌سرخ - دامی��ن وین

His heritage pounds between his bones. The deja vu of an ancestral lifetime runs rapid through his veins as he chases you across the rooftops. His father, his mother, his brothers, always chasing, running after things they know they'll never reach. Your blades clash against his and Damian can't help but wonder if this is the closest he'll ever get to kissing you.

You leave him with paper cuts that feel like venom, like saying 'I love you' while chewing on his bones. He ponders, does his father have the same scars, if Damian pulled away Bruce's skin what would he find? Kittycat claws and dragon bites engraved in the nth-wielded ivory. He feels legacy clawing at his throat as he pictures your fingers between his teeth. Tears blooming in your eyes as he uses diamonds and ceremonial knives to engrave his name upon your flesh. Dotting the I with a heart and entwining each letter. God, he's so tired of being lonely...

🦇 Batman - Bruce Wayne | بتمن - بروس وین

He can't help but pick you apart, chip away at the bones and flesh until he reaches your essence. Dissecting your heart with his tongue and savoring the ichor between his teeth. He's the world's greatest detective and yet he can't unravel his own ardor. This mania, this addiction festering within his crux gnawing at his sanity until every thought is consumed by the cadence of your voice and the stars scintillating in your big doe eyes. This desperate need burning inside of him are you really divinity? Will you bleed glod, if he tears you apart with his teeth?

You're so ethereal squirming beneath, kicking and screaming vying desperately for freedom. He's fought this love for far too long, tried to preserve you in the light. Cover your eyes and ears and make you forget about the monsters that roam in the dark. But he can't not anymore, maybe he never could. Maybe the only way he knows how to love is by trickling his darkness like nectar between your lips and watching as it paints you in his shades.

ᯓ★ Superman - Clark Kent | سوپرمن - کلارک کنت

His kisses melt into your skin sweet like molten sugar drizzled on jasmine rice. Like lava smothering roses, leaving a trail of fragranced ashes. Clark smiles and he notices how you cover your eyes. Like you're staring directly into the sun. Like you're scared of being burnt. Clark can't help but bury his head in the crock of your neck, inhaling your ather. Molten roses and floral ashes he likes the amalgamate of your scents. Like how his presence lingers upon you.

He holds you like a doll, like the little straw dolls his mother used to make. It's easy to be gentle, coddling when everything is so fragile compared to you. He kisses down your neck, your jaw, nuzzling his nose into your soft skin, trying to earn a giggle a gold star. Trying to wipe the fear from your eyes. He kisses you again, mumbling cloying words between your lips, wishing he could just push his love between your fragile bones.

˚✶˚ Superboy - Conner Kent | سوپربوی - کانر کنت

He's fighting back the urge to peel your heart from between your ribs. To trail kisses across it and marr his lips with your ether. He wonders if your heart beats as frantically as his. He wonders if your ribs rattle when he enters a room.

He wants to push little superboy earings into your ears, to lay upon you the piercings he could never have. It'll be his way of telling the world you belong to him, that you belong to Superboy. And yet he settles for draping his leather jacket across your shoulders when senses a shiver run up your spine. He settles for the friendly hugs and airy hello-kisses. He wants to say he's he loves you. he can't. It's all so annoying, tasting the dead words on his tongue.

𓂃✮ Superman - Jon Kent | سوپرمن - جان کنت

He's scaping his nails along the Hershey's kisses re-aligning the red blue and gold wrapping. It'll be obvious, right? If he leaves them in your locker you'll understand the colored metaphor you'll answer the question he can never ask. You'll know it's him, everyone always does, for the byproduct of the world's greatest hero, he's terrible at keeping his identity a secret.

He blames it on the legacy flooding his lungs. On the promises that beat in his blood. He's born to be a hero, to play the role of savior, but aren't heroes promised love too? Aren't they meant to save the girl from burning skyscrapers and crumbling sidewalks, to fly above the skyline and kiss her in tune with the setting sun? He's so desperate for the sweet fairytale ending, so desperate to kiss the girl who always knows just what to say. He leaves the chocolate in your locker before making a dent in the metal door.

˚｡⋆🪙⋆ ˚｡ Two Face - Harvey Dent | دو چهره - هاروی دنت

He can taste your pain on his tongue, swallow the barbed wire, and relish in the familiar sting of hope, expectation, responsibility. Maybe that's why he can't stop himself from chasing after you. Burning the world demanding you stop him, desperate for a silver of your deficit attention. God, you're so ethereal with his gun aimed at your head, his pretty little girl with big starry eyes laced with dread as they follow the cascade of his coin. 'I know' he wants to scream 'I know what it feels like' but the words never quite spill out that way. And Harv only laughs at his foolish attempts to play hero once more. Sanctimonious bastard, the words reverberate in his skull.

You may claim to be a hero but Two-face knows you'll fall, plunder to the ground like all the rest, that's what happens when you reach for the sky, deem yourself Icarus, and let the flames of glory engulf you until there's nothing left. 'You can't save them' Harv screams only for Harvey to hear. They want to get closer, to slip the coin between your lips and make you taste defeat, maybe then you'll understand why he's so keen on fighting you out of your crusade. Maybe then you'll take their hand willingly, letting them sprinkle kisses across your knuckles like dying stars.

˙⋆☠︎︎⋆˙ Black Mask - Roman Sionis | نقاب سیاه - رومن سیونیس

He wants to cut out your big heart and sink his teeth into it, engrave himself in every vein, and chew on the heartstrings. HIM he needs to be the only one in that plushie heart of yours. The only one with the right to be graced by your ethereal smile. He wants to awaken to your soft nimble fingers tracing hearts and stars across his chest. Pretty pink lips weaving feathery kisses across the scar of his pacemaker. Giggles tickling his neck as you bid him 'good morning' in that all too cheery voice of yours.

Roman almost moans as he hears his name spill from your mouth, each letter cradled carefully between your lips he can't help but want to push his thumb inside your mouth, to feel your purity and shock. There's so much he wants to call you so much he wants to whisper in your ear as he watches your cheeks glow red. To hold you in his lap and trail his fingers across your legs, to dress you in pretty dresses and short skirts and skin-tight tops. To taste the fear and dread on your tongue palpable like the blood he draws with every kiss.

༄✩༄ Scarecrow - Jonathan Crane | مترسک - جاناتان کرین

He likes the stars in your eyes, the mini constellations spelling out your greatest fears. The tears blooming in the corners of your dopey eyes have his lips twitching. You're so gorgeous like this, curled up on the floor trying to make sense of such an eerie world. Jonathan doesn't anoint himself a fool, he knows it's chimeric to think that you'd love him without the toxin, without the heavy drugs he's spilled into your veins. That's why he keeps you like this, scared and depressed. Always in need of him.

What's your greatest fear? He wonders when you tuck your head between your knees and sob all so quietly as to not disturb him. Is it him you see in your grandest nightmares? Is it the mask jumping at you from within the darkness, or is it Professor Crane abandoning you in such a macabre world? Mask on mask off it makes no difference. He just hopes he's the star of every nightmare, as long as you fear him as much as he fears losing you.

｡??｡ Riddler- Edward Nygma| ریدل - ادوارد نیگما

It's frivolous to think he will not solve this riddle. That he will no unearth this plague you have bestowed upon him. This fixation, this obsession, he needs to understand you, to peel away your skin and glimpse at your inner clock workings. To undo your screws one by one and find out what exists between that haunting laugh and those knowing vicious eyes. To rip apart your wires, and feed upon your mind. To understand, he needs to understand you.

He got close once when he had your neck under his shoe, but the evil lith of your laughter rings across the room and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't unnerved. He doesn't know what question to ask first. 'what have you done to me'? 'why do you think you're better than me?', 'Why don't you love me?' Instead, the silence shatters with your voice, proud melody rivaling his own, your eyes lock on him and he can't suppress his shutter. "Well Eddie, riddle me this. What can kill any man, but isn't even alive itself?"

⁺♡⁺ Deathstroke - Slade Wilson | مرگ سکته - اسلید ویلسون

You're like a shooting star, dancing across the night as you stalk his latest kill. Little asssasin, you know your stuff but he finds your thirst for ineage and morality both exhausting and honorable. Most people grow up and spit out their morals with blood and broken teeth. Let the world's cruel realities claw and gnaw at their skin until it's hardened enough to survive. He's yet to see you extend such a courtesy to the world, makes him think that pulling the trigger on you would be some sort of mercy. Bullet through the heart leaving your body coated in his essence and one final kiss pressed onto your paling lips.

He dosen't notice the inkling of you rattling around in his brain until he realizes that this is the eighth him he's seen you smile at the end of his barrel. Pretty little girl chasing after morals and sand, hoping to escape the endless night by spilling just a little more guilty blood. You look like some sort of ethereal doll, immortal in your innocence and vicious in your virtues. He can respect that, truly but Slade isn't naive enough to think you have what it takes to survive. Maybe that's why he wants all so badly to feed you his victim's hearts and eyes and livers, to push them past your pretty lips, staining them the deepest red. Watching your delicate throat constrict as you swallow everything he gives you. Reveling in the sensation of your greedy little tongue swirling around his fingers licking up the access gore. Can almost picture your smile and stupid little head tilt as you thank him for the 'candygrams'.

⭑.ᐟ Respawn | احیا

Respawn drowns in his love. Pulling apart his heart to lay at your feet. It's all he's ever known, broken boy built to harvest spare parts. But you don't look at him like that, you don't even look at him like an assassin. No, you smile fondly as you nuzzle his neck with your nose. You look at him the way his father used to, like he's actually worth something more. He's never quite kissed you, he's not even sure he knows how. Instead, he holds you close to his chest making sure you hear the dull patter of his jagged heart.

He's born from greatness, left to rot in the dark. He refuses to play pawn, anymore. So maybe that's why, when he finally kisses you -with all the grace of a schoolboy's first kiss- it's so desperate and erratic, clumsily licking your lips and nicking his tongue along your teeth trying to think what his father would do. His fingers dig into your arms, preassing prayers into your flesh, screaming 'Don't leave me, you're all I have left'.

⭑☽ Ghost-Maker - Minhkhoa "Khoa" Khan | روح ساز - مینه خوا "خوا" خان

There's nostalgia in your essence, in your presence, something he can never wash away. He's grown addicted to the erratic reverbate of your pulse between his teeth. Kissing the bites he leaves marring your perfect body.

Why can't you just love him, let him haunt your every thought, and erode those pesky creeds, until he is the only thing you'll ever need? Khoa hates to admit it but he sees something in you, something so reflective of the little boy laying in the sand of the gobi desert, shooting phantom bullets and mocking stars. You scream every time he kisses you, recoil your tongue, and cry at the bitterness sweeping in. But Khao loves the challenge, the fight, loves forcing you into submission, even as your knife digs between his ribs. He's only ever content when your pith floods his mouth and your melodic voice rings through his ears. His precious little princess tucked away between his arms forever.

☾⋆ Phantom-one | روح یک

he never shows you his face. He blames it on his upbringing too used to old rules that he can never escape their clutches not even for you. His kisses are always clouds dancing across your skin, so light and airy they may as well be the wind. But tries to leave traces of himself with every kiss. Desperate pleas for you to look at him, to touch him, to love him back. All so he knows he's alive, still real enough to love.

He's always trapped between the land of the living and the realm of the deceased. Always so gentle with the love he's stolen, so careful to not break his lover, as his mentor did to him. He laces his fingers through your hair, sucks gently on the length of your neck, all while pushing 'I love yous' into your soul, marking you as his forever.

🎀𖹭🎀 : @your-yandere-kiss @fancyfeathers @yandere-writer-momo @nxdxsworld @lilyalone @neverano @natsukicookies @googeecat44 @starrydollita @mune-writes @a4g3lstarfire @yourhornysister @froggy-voidd @rissareader @6helpneeded9

@blacklunardice @princesstrunkz @mona1704 @testification

[acid-ixx]

(name) wayne, gagged and tied to a chair:

the villain, untying their gag: hahaha! i have kidnapped you for ransom and your father only has 5 hours left to save you by paying me!!!

(name) wayne: damn bruh my father hasn't spoken to me in 13 and a half years i don't think he's coming for me at all, better if you shoot me instead lmao cause i don't think batman would save me either

villain: ...

yan! villain, untying your ropes: welp, kidnapping is basically illegal adoption, am i right?

(name) wayne: as long as i'm fed three times a day and you read me bed time stories before i sleep then i guess that counts?

yan! villain: sweetheart, you are getting more than that.

[yandere-wishes]

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS!!! King can honestly do whatever the hell he wants to me and I'd thank him 😤💋😤💋

No but seriously Momo this is absolutely stunning!! Roman being tender with his darling is soooo cute and him not acknowledging that he's the biggest menace to him is everything!!! Love that Rommy is his own trigger warning 🤣🩷🤣🩷

For my girl @yandere-wishes

Yandere DC Shorts: Addicted To His Poison

Yandere Black Mask/ Roman Sionis x Fiancee Fem Reader

TW: Yandere and uncomfortable themes, NONCON DRUGGING, unhealthy relationship dynamic, power imbalance, ROMAN SIONIS, and behavior that should not be romanticized

A content sigh slipped through (your name)’s lips as a black leather glove glided upon their spine. The touch was light yet familiar…

“It seems you still shiver when I touch you.” A husky voice chuckled from above. “You were just here yesterday.”

“I don’t like to be away from you for long, Roman.” (Your name) softly told her fiancé, Roman Sionis. “You know this.”

He smiled down at her before he bent down to press a kiss to the nape of her neck, his arms pulled her closer to his chest. She was the only one who ever paid attention to him since they were young… the only one who never wore a mask around him.

“You’re the only one.” He whispered. “I’ll chase you to the ends of this earth if you try to run from me.”

(Your name) turned her head around to glance at Roman, who was always had that black mask on.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving.” She softly told him before she curled into him more to nap. “I love you.”

Roman began to caress with her tresses while she softly dozed off. Heavens she was so sweet and naïve… she had no idea the lengths he had gone through to keep her at his side.

There was the smallest part of him that felt guilty for what he had done to keep her reliant, but Roman had always been selfish. If his beloved wasn’t addicted to him, she’d leave him… and Roman would never let that happen.

If he couldn’t have her… then no one would. This world was full of people who wore masks and would harm her, she was safer at his side. With him. With the drugs he microdosed her with to keep her addicted to his company.

Ecstasy was typically a party drug, one that people typically took to enhance their experience. It had a euphoric effect on the brain… he would know because Roman had been slipping small traces of it into the drinks he prepared for her every time she came over.

It was the perfect crime. The perfect way to keep her at his side without the violence he was used to. And (your name) was none the wiser since she always thought it was love she felt for him. The poor soul had no idea she was with a monster.

Roman kissed the top of her head with a content sigh. She was the only good relationship that ever came from his awful parents and she would always be his… even if he had to up her dose if she had second thoughts.

Roman smiled at how she subconsciously nuzzled his hand like a cat. She was addicted to his poison.

[recreationalfanfics]

Yandere! Roman Sionis x Reader

Note: I have a huge crush on Roman Sionis (not the BoP version) so I wanted to try my hand at writing him <3 Also, I am going with the version where he can take the mask off.

Tw. Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics

Roman Sionis was a lot of things.

He was a trust fund kid who relied on daddy’s money all his life until he decided to take that money for himself.

He was a horrible business man so he turned into a mob boss, you know, as you do.

He was a whack job who had a sick and twisted obsession with you and was currently holding you captive.

But you honestly think that the worst part about him was that he was incredibly snarky and condescending. To you at least, his countless victims would most likely complain about his sadistic and brutal torture methods, but you doubt that you’d ever experience that for yourself. Mostly because Roman knew how to psychologically torture people in other ways.

“There we go, don’t you feel all pretty now?” He hummed, tilting his masked face and speaking in a way that made you know he was smirking. 

The scene is tense for everyone. His gangsters stand behind the other tailors who are sobbing quietly as they sit on one knee, you can feel the uneasiness of the two tailors behind you as they silently pray and beg repentance for every sin they’ve committed, but what makes it worse is that all eyes are on you. You want to avoid speaking, one of Roman’s favorite pastimes is to find a way to misinterpret your words on purpose so he could have an excuse to kill someone, to guilt you into thinking that you were the one who condemned them to death despite him pulling the trigger. You feel your stomach churn, knowing that someone was going to die for Roman’s own amusement, and he knew it too.

“C’mon, give Daddy a twirl, yeah?” He hums. 

Daddy.

You scrunch your nose in disgust. You absolutely hated it when he called himself that, it made you want to shrink into yourself, and rip your ears off so you’d never have to hear him say it again. He probably knew you hated it too, guessing by the way he chuckled at your incredibly obvious reaction, and it’s probably the only reason why he says it. Still, you do as he says because you have no choice and try to twirl for him enthusiastically. The last time you tried to be nonchalant about a gift as a form of subtle protest was when you were getting fitted for a ring, that resulted in one person losing their life and the employees getting all of their ring fingers cut off, and you know what Roman said to justify/blame it on you?

“You deserve only the best, sweetheart. If they can’t give it to you, then I don’t think they should be alive.”

Maybe in another life, where you were an equally depraved criminal, you would’ve found his words to be genuine and sweet. However, you knew that Roman Sionis was incapable of being genuine and sweet, and that this was another one of his mind games. A warning for future reference that if you wanna try and resist him, even in the most tiniest and insignificant ways, he will not stand for it. 

“Absolutely stunning.” He praises, standing up to walk towards you. 

You resist the urge to step away from him, no matter how strong it may be, because you know that’s another way to get someone killed. Instead you stand there, obediently like the good spouse you were, and don’t flinch when he brings a gloved hand to the diamond necklace around your neck.

“But you know me, I’m a sucker for you wearing anything expensive,” He says, almost in a tender tone as if there was some truth to his words, but you don’t think about that. Instead, you think about his next sentence:

“What do you think about it?”

You gulp and you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him not to do this to you. Not to make you have to stand outside the shop as you hear gunshots and crying, shamelessly throwing his arm around you with small droplets of blood decorating his nice white suit, and leaving you lying away from his body as your haunted by what you could have done differently even if you knew Roman wouldn’t have let you. His dark eyes stare back at you with nothing but a mischievous glee and you were on higher alert than ever.

“I love it!” You say, forcing your best smile and cheery tone.

He fidgets with your necklace between his fingers, his eyes now studying the way the diamond sparkles rather than your incredibly unconvincing expression, and he just says: “Yeah? That right?”

 Still, you nod eagerly and continue to try and guess what he wants to hear: “Yeah, it looks really good on me, I think! I really like the style, a-and the material, and the uh-” You lose your train of thought as he slowly lets go of the diamond hanging from the sterling silver chain, letting it fall back down to your chest as he slowly starts to walk behind you, and the goosebumps start to rise on your skin. You didn’t like this, you didn’t like this at all, but you still tried your best to keep going, “the, um, the color is nice.”

“The color, hm?” He mumbles, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he lowers his mouth (or where it’s supposed to be) next to your ear, “You sure about the color, sweet thing?”

You nod your head again, giving a shrill “mhm!” because your words are dying in your throat. You hated it when he got too close like this, it made you nervous, and you wanted him to get away from you. You wanted to push him off, to scream and run, but you also knew you couldn’t do that. His silence made the very blood in your veins run cold but set your mind on fire as you were trying to figure out how to salvage this already doomed moment. 

“Really? Because you hate this color.” Roman states, his hands moving from your shoulders to your waist.

Someone’s sobs become a little louder than the rest and when Roman turns his head to look at them, you quickly turn around to face him again and put your hands on his chest. It does what you intended it to do because his eyes are back on you.

“I changed my mind!” 

“Nah, I don’t think you did. If I recall, you absolutely hate this color because it reminds you of me.”

There’s an edge to his voice now, a petty “gotcha” kind of one. He wasn’t wrong, though, because he tried to give you something in the same horrendous color early on when he abducted you and you blew him off. Saying how you wouldn’t want something so gross and so…him. You gulp, realizing two things: 1. Roman had an excellent memory regarding you and 2. You just lied to his face. 

And he hated it even more when you lied.

You stammer out apologies and excuses, anything that could help the situation but he steps away from you before taking out his concealed gun. One of the workers lets out a fearful cry and tries to back away but one his False Facers comes and grabs them by their shoulders, walking closer towards Roman despite the fearful protest of the poor innocent civilian. They were going to be the first one to die.

“I mean, c’mon, none of ya had the decency to look at how unhappy they were when they saw the color? None of you guys stopped to ask them what was wrong and fix it and put a smile on their precious little face?” He shakes his head as he loads his weapon. They beg for their lives as you try to plead with the devil himself.

“Roman, please, they probably didn’t want to go against you! Th-They knew that you knew best and I- I promise I love this color-” 

You sound so pathetic, yipping at the big dog not to use his fangs, but you had no power here. No one did except for Roman Sionis, a man who never did anything other than to get more power for himself and to make others miserable, even the one he claimed to love the most. 

Then it hits you.

Your body reacts faster than your mind as you take the fleeting opportunity to have one hand grab his mask and the other to grab his tie. Not even Roman was aware of what was happening as he tensed up the moment he felt your lips against his. You gripped the mask tightly in your free hand as you kept a strong hold on his tie, even pulling him closer towards you as if you were trying to chain him to you. As if forcing yourself to do this usually romantic and loving act is enough to break his need for blood. And it does.

Once Roman understands what’s going on, he drops his gun and cups your face with his hands as he kisses you back. Tilting his head to the side to deepen it and his body relaxes. You might not see it but you cloud your mind completely. His eyes stay open for a while as he sees one beautiful tear stream down your cheek before they go half lidded and he surrenders himself to this bliss.

You’re making his heart do the thing again.  You did it to him the first time he met you, then you did it the second time, then so on and so forth, and here you go doing it again to him. You wonder why he’s so addicted to you, don’t worry, he does too. He wonders why he bothers with such an ungrateful little brat who doesn’t appreciate his gestures and only pays attention to the crimson that stains his hands, why he bothers with someone who sleeps on the farthest part of their bed as if Roman was some horrible monster they didn’t want to touch, but it’s times like this that he remembers why. It’s because you were the only one who could make him feel this way, who could give him a taste of what love felt like, but also made him feel so powerful when you did stuff like this as a last resort.He pulls away for air, your lips chase after him despite being out of breath as well to try and buy a little more time, but he’s just gonna tease you later and ask if he was just that damn good of a kisser. 

Roman stares at you again, this time really looking at you, and his hands still cup your face gently. His pants softly under his breath as one thumb from his hand gently caresses your cheek. You stare at him with hopeful eyes and while he does love keeping you at the bottom of his heel and remind you whose in charge…he figures that this time it wouldn’t hurt to let you have your way.

“On second thought, boys,” He starts and he loves the way you edge closer to him unintentionally, “...Let ‘em go, they can be off the hook. This time.”

You let out a breath of relief but then shyly hand Roman back his mask, your hand letting go of his tie and wrapping your arm around his. As he puts on his mask, he relishes in the feeling of you resting your head on his shoulder and being more affectionate with him. Maybe you were so relieved that you managed to get through to him or maybe you were just exhausted with everything that went down but you fall asleep on his shoulder during the ride home and when he’s done admiring the sight, he gently puts his head on top of yours.

[tarrensbookmarks]

Batman

➼ Alfred Pennyworth ‣I'll Be Seeing You by eupheme Invisible Man!Alfred x F!Reader ‣Slip Into Your Skin by stargirlfics Alfred Pennyworth x Black F!Reader ‣The Gentleman by stargirlfics Alfred Pennyworth x F!Black Dancer!Reader ‣Penny For Your Thoughts by eupheme Alfred Pennyworth x F!Reader ‣In Bloom by eupheme Alfred Pennyworth x F!Reader and sex pollen ‣Of Beachgrass and Seafoam by viceofdionysus Alfred Pennyworth x F!Reader

➼ Bruce Wayne/Batman ‣Iron by stargirlfics Battinson x F!Reader

➼ Jason Todd/Red Hood/Arkham Knight ‣Dark!AK!Jason Todd x F!Reader by nocturne-pisces

➼ Harvey Dent/Two-Face ‣Yandere!Two-Face x GN!Reader by recreationalfanfics

➼ Roman Sionis/Black Mask ‣Morning After by gilverrwrites Roman Sionis x Reader

dividers by saradika-graphics

[kneamet]

could you please do jealous/possessive roman sionis???

blood moon ball

Trigger Warning: angst, obsession, drabble, yandere

Word Count: 613

Character: roman sionis/reader

blood moon ball

A mad night under a cold moon, the scarlet sky of flesh waved love in a haze. Stars were scrawled on the ceiling — so far away, almost real! the constellation of the monster pointed the way, dragged back into a deep, cruel and pathetic embrace; an embrace full of darkness and depravity, death and blood. It was the blood moon ball — Roman was the main guest, and angering him was like an execution. This is a one— actor theater for a single spectator — you. A spectator doomed to eternal imprisonment, contemplating the whole horror of life with faded eyes.

Lost to yourself, the whole world, but not to Roman, you were connected with strangers by a thread. They were sitting on chairs —coquettes with fake eyebrows, shiny earrings and mocking pupils, gentlemen with bloody hearts, greasy smiles and tasteless clothes. A row of flickering chandeliers poured abundant rays on the joyful faces of famous thieves, murderers who were going to shed a bloody sweat. And only you, like a small white flower sprouted in dirt and gloom, looked around the club in confusion, unable to move. Not being able to say a word against Roman that squeezed you in an insatiable embrace.

He kissed your neck, breathed hotly on your bare shoulders and ran his gloved hands along your waist. You shuddered, trembled and thoughtlessly looked into the distance, envied the crowd of harlots that were overcome with passion, madly rejoiced, traded in lost beauty and honor; they are carefree, who decided that life belongs to them; they are the same as you were a few months ago. Roman, not paying attention and ordering Zsasz to guard the most remote chairs, whispered in ear:

"Mine, mine, mine…"

The skin was covered with goosebumps, the heart beat faster. Your gaze was poisoned by endless longing. Forgotten dreams rise again with royal towers, block, help to live in the male world of the Novel. Roman protects you, protects you and pleases before you, ready to get the enemy's heart and present it on a platter. His control knows no bounds, but you feel — or should feel — safe. You're not in danger, but I'm worried, baby! he keeps saying, once again closing you at home. He says he has to protect.

Roman is a fragrant, luxurious fruit, a tombstone urn asking for tears; it is an evil spirit chasing from all sides, burning your chest with an unclean flame; you are forced to breathe it, inhale and swallow. Roman is a spider, he weaves webs and entangles victims, lives several lives that are nothing to him. His nets envelop the whole Gotham and it is not possible to get out, and why would you do that? Every girl in the city dreams of being in the bed of Roman Sionis, so why do you refuse?

Prohibitions multiply like bacteria, ordinary relationships will turn into continuous obligations and services — don't do this, don't do that. You sigh, trying to say something, but you are silent, afraid, remembering the bruises left on your neck. Suddenly you twitch when you feel the touch of tongue on the skin and the wet trail left. Roman, like a cat, makes this gesture, as if trying to ask for forgiveness, to lick wounds. Paying attention to a man walking with a drunken gait to your table, you don't even have time to say a word, as he, leaning against, demands something:

"Pretty, you want…"

He is interrupted by a dull bullet fired in the forehead. He falls with a thud, softly, almost inaudible thanks to the loud music. Your eyes widen and you swallow; Roman runs a gun through your hair.

"Mine."

im sorry if this isnt exactly what u wanted, i can always write something different fur u, anon! also, please indicate which type u would like to read - a drabble (500~ words) or a fic (2000+ words), since they are very different in content. drabble is more of a rest than a full-fledged job, so they may not be very interesting, perhaps boring and clumsy in terms of the plot. but if you liked it, then im very glad!

[the-fo0l]

Yandere!Roman Sionis x reader

Notes: i hate him but i watched Birds of Prey and felt the need to write this, maybe a bit out of character cuz i prefer soft yanderes

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping and murder

He's just about as delusional as yanderes get

Honestly there's hardly any difference between regular Roman and yandere Roman

He genuinely believes that you two are soulmates, meaning, he immediately ditches all other women he's been talking to

His emotions switch up so fast, he can do from 1 to an 100 in a second, in fact, a lot of people know him for his dramatic and aggressive outbursts

But now that you're here, there's finally a way to calm him down, seriously, he could literally be in the middle of the biggest temper tantrum of his life but as soon as he sees you, with that scared look on your face, all the anger goes away

Blows damn near all this money on gifts for you, you'll get all of life's finest luxuries whether you like it or not

And naturally you're protected in Gotham, no one dares to even look at you, shit you may as well be the Joker's s/o

Anyone stupid enough to even dare say something even remotely negative about you better hope Roma. doesn't find out, otherwise they will be begging for the sweet release of death soon enough

Wants to wear matching jewelry

And matching outfits

If he has a meeting of any kind he wants you to be there 1. to make sure he doesn't go ballistic 2. cause he hates being away from you for long 3. you're the eyecandy ;)

He let's you have some freedom, like you can go shopping, clubbing and out with friends but he does insist on regular checkups to check on your well-being

But make so much as one attempt at escaping him and you'll be tied up and in his arms before you know it

Gets super dramatic with birthdays or anniversaries. Everyone in Gotham has to hear him talk their ear off about how he has the best s/o

As he says, you're just too cute, how could he not?

[littleredwing89]

I was galvanized by the lack of Roman posts so.... Roman being a creepy boss + Singer! Reader :)

***

The red glittery sequins of your dress sparkled around the nightclub as you sashayed your hips on the stage. Your hair was pinned back with some loose curls falling down to frame your elegant features. Standing in front of the microphone, you wrapped your delicate, gloved fingers around it. The backing musicians began to play, the sound reverberating through your body, electrifying your soul. Your ruby red lips parted as you began to sing.

“I wanna be loved by you, just you, And nobody else but you, I wanna be loved by you alone”.

Your sultry voice poured through the club, dripping honey sweet. The crowd never taking their eyes off you. You saw him. Roman. Stood on the balcony of his office, his dark gaze drinking you in. He had a cigar in one hand, a glass of champagne in the other. He screamed power. His penetrating stare caused your skin to tingle as you continued to sing, especially for him.

“I wanna be kissed by you, just you, Nobody else but you, I wanna be kissed by you alone”.

You swirled your hips side to side as you sang, letting the notes flow over you. Having your boss stare at you so hungrily, devouring you, sparked passionate flames as you performed.

“I couldn't aspire, To anything higher, Than to feel the desire, To make you my own”.

You let your hand stroke down the front of your curves as you sang, slowly on purpose. If he was going to watch, you wanted to give him a show to remember.

——

Taking the pins out of your hair, your silken locks fell down your back. The thin, sheer robe covered your body as you stood in front of the dressing room mirror, preparing to take off your makeup. Your beautiful dress hung up on the front of the wardrobe.

You gasped suddenly when the door to your room flew open, your hands flying to your robe, pulling it tighter around your body. Roman barged in, slamming it closed behind him. You swallowed nervously as he made his way across the room, caging you against the dresser table with his body.

“You certainly got my attention tonight kitten”, he smirked drawing his gloved finger down your cheek and across your full lips. Your breathing hitched when his thigh wedged itself between your legs, the expensive Italian material stroking your inner thighs. Images of riding it invaded your thoughts, purring his name into the night. He seemed to read your mind and gave you a sly grin.

***

[writerbyaccident]

Dropping Pretense (Yandere Black Mask/Roman Sionis x Reader)

Request: Hi, can you make a Roman Sionis imagine where the reader is in the final battle scene and Roman sees this as the perfect opportunity to just scoop her up?

What the fuck had Dinah gotten you into.

When she had texted you that she needed backup helping save some kid, this was not what you had been expecting. Sure, you figured that there would be a few goons, a few guns. What you had definitely not been expecting though was entire goddamn army. And that didn’t even begin to cover the bitter cop, the kid with a diamond in her stomach, the vicious assassin, and the fucking psycho clown. From the moment Dinah had started working for Roman Sionis, you suspected that it would end poorly, but you certainly hadn’t predicted something on this level.

You had always thought that Roman was something of a creep, from the first day that Canary started working at the Black Mask club. Even before you had heard a single thing about his reputation you hadn’t liked him. He was always staring at you, refusing to look away even when he was talking with someone else. And when he was talking to you, the conversations were filled with too frequent laughter, too strong flirting, and far too eager smiles.

With most of Sionis’ army left in the dust by now, you ran beside Dinah and the others towards the ever looming Founders’ Pier. Up ahead you could hear the unmistakable voices of Harley Quinn and Sionis, though the words themselves were incomprehensible. Just as you and the other three women were reaching the start of the pier though, two hidden gunmen popped up from the ruins of a crashed car, wasting no time in shooting at your group. Launching yourself forward, you crashed onto the dilapidated wood of the pier, then rising to a half crouch to run to help Harley and Cass. Even when you rose up though, the gunmen didn’t even attempt to shoot you, just like how Sionis’ men had ignored you all night long. Even as you told yourself to just be grateful and keep moving, that fact wormed uncomfortably at the back of your mind.

Little did you know though, that Roman’s men had been given strict orders to leave you unharmed. To be precise, his exact words had been, “If you harm a single hair on my little flower’s head, getting your face carved off will be the least of your worries.”

If you had known what he had said, perhaps you wouldn’t have run so quickly. For the minute that you reached Sionis, his bloody face broke into a darkly obsessive grin.

“There’s my favorite little flower,” he purred. “I had been hoping that you would show.”

“Kid, are you okay?” you asked, forcing yourself to ignore Sionis’ creepy expression and creepier words.

“Shit!” Harley gasped, dropping her gun at your sudden appearance.

With that opportunity coming so perfectly—truly, Sionis thought, it must have been fate—Sionis wastes no time in pushing Cass away, rushing forward to grab you instead. Bashing the hilt of his knife against the back of your head, the monster gladly supported you as you fell backwards, utterly relishing the chance to hold you freely after so long of wanting to.

“Who cares about a dumb fucking diamond,” he whispered in your ear, “when I’ve got something far more precious?”

As he dragged your dazed form away, Sionis turned back to where Harley was helping Cass off of the ground. Chuckling, the Black Mask places a kiss on your bruised forehead.

“You got yours,” he called out triumphantly, “I got mine. And make no mistake, she is mine.”

[onmyyan]

“Menace Mode unlocked”

Green Goblin!Reader x Bruce Wayne, more pairings will be added later cuz I have no self control

A/N: cursing, reader straight up hates her dad, Bruce is crushing hard n he don’t even know it 🙄🤚🏼, minior character death no one important dw, slight Yandereness just barely though

Someone new had entered the fray in Gotham’s underbelly, problem was, no one knew what side they were on.

The first sightings were reported a few days ago, people had caught glimpses of a ‘green ghost’ near the docks, an area notorious for its not so secret trafficking ring, everyone knew who ran this joint, one of the city’s more rancid lunatic’s, Roman Sionis, was a special brand of dirtbag, he had his filthy fingers in every human right violation one could profit from, and while vile in every way, he didn’t make many public appearances, be it his fear of germs or aversion to all things ‘gross’ he tried not to dirty his shoes by showing up but this night was special, he was going to make a lot of money with all the goodies he sold here so it only made sense to give his fans a brief speech and collect his checks in person, imagine his surprise when said big speech was coming to its epic conclusion, only to be interrupted by a small blinking ball being hurled at his feet. He didn’t have time to question the object, only enough to barely recognize the pumpkin like face etched into its surface, it lit up neon green and incinerated everything in a five foot radius, including Mr.Sionis .

 Those that survived the initial blast didn’t suffer long as three more pumpkin bombs fell before the connoisseurs of the illegal goods, raining upon them with a hail of sharp, black projectiles, witnesses describe a ghoulish blur of green seen hovering the area like a vulture, what remained of the assailants had to be scooped into bags. 

The local news outlet, Gotham Gazette, had their newest obsession’s blurry form blasted everywhere they could, it was the first time a relatively clear photo was captured of their “Green Goblin” the name had a ring to it you mused to yourself, (e/c) eyes raking over the newspaper for anything relevant, all they had were the usual theories and conspiracies. Ranging from aliens to cultists, both of which could be true but neither were. 

While having the city’s attention wasn’t apart of your game plan, you’d accounted for the possibility, mentally patting yourself on the back for adding that mask last minute. Despite the radar on your back you couldn’t blame em’ for getting excited, and to think all this frenzy was from a few bad guys getting turned into ash, they had no idea what you could do, all you planned to do.

 Gotham had its fair share of freaks and scoundrels sure, but they all(in your mind at least) we’re going about the whole thing wrong, the cat and mouse games the catch and release tango- as a citizen you’d gotten used to it, before you’d changed, before you could defend yourself, you bought into it, that one day something would switch and all the chaos would stop. 

But you knew better now. You knew more. You were intelligent long before the serum, it came with being an Osborn, but now you looked at things differently, there was no problem you couldn’t solve if you really put your mind to it. 

It was almost customary in Gotham that every now and then some bozo in a party city costume  took their shot at the gig, but those stories almost always ended the same, with them running home with their tails tucked between their legs, or dying at the hands of one of the real monsters that roamed your hometown.

You were different from the rest, and you held your head high. You weren’t some adrenaline junkie looking for their latest fix or out for what little glory awaited a vigilante, Your mind worked in its own unique way, which kept a wall between you and the world, especially your family.

 The trains automated voice system began its repetitive warmings, slowly but surely pulling your from your thoughts. Soft (e/c) eyes were always swirling with something, and people found themselves drawn to that something, almost like quicksand. Those tired eyes trailed across the trains LED schedule, only one more stop stood between you and the meeting you’d been dreading since your fathers untimely and frankly self caused death. The official report was bullshit, the only person who ever really knew what was going on with your father was said man, at least he thought so. You were the one who found him, strapped down against his lab table, a broken syringe sat below his open palm, and near his still body, besides the manic notes and data sprawled across every surface, stood one lone syringe, filled to the brim with a vibrant emerald liquid. The sight should have filled you with something, horror or sadness maybe anguish even, no, what you felt in that moment was the crushing weight of disappointment. Now you’d never get to prove to him how wrong he was about you, how foolish he was to cast aside such a gifted child. Now there was only one way to truly get back at the bastard for all he’d dragged you through. 

Beat him at his own game. 

That thought was all it took to lead you where you stood now. 

The Oscorp Corporation and Wayne Enterprises had just recently struck a deal exchanging both information and tech, it was a huge deal for both parties so of course dear old dad had to up and die before he could sign it. Sure your older brother (and his painfully obvious favorite) Harry, should have been here you know, considering he now ran the company, but no. He got to do the fun heir stuff like mourn with your mother in the Bahamas for a month, which left you here, impatiently tapping your foot in the all too clean and shiny Wayne Enterprises lobby. “Hi, Can help you ma’am?” Although the receptionist’s tone was as customer service as one could get, you could still see her smile falter at your appearance. 

Coming straight from your workshop with your coveralls loosely tied at your waist probably wasn’t the socially acceptable thing to show up in, but hey you showed up. Her hand not so discreetly hovered over the hidden security button, to think a little oil and dirt is all it took to be tossed out of here. A smirk grew on your face at her ever growing discomfort. She cleared her throat, as if to silently repeat her question.

”Nah.” Was your simple response as you waited to see how this would play out. After all this was much more entertaining than having to act like your Fathers passing was anything more than an inconvenience.

The universe looked down on your silent plea and instead brought your problem right to you.

A group of tall, sharply dressed, almost square shaped men filed out from an elevator, all talking quietly amongst themselves, the tallest one being non other than the dude you came to meet.

”Ah! Mr. Wayne! I’m sorry I was just about to-“

The now beaming woman behind the front desk not so subtly gestured to you, then the security guards behind him, only stoping by a wave of dismissal from the man himself.

”I’m sure there’s no need for that Regina- How can I help you miss?” His charming baritone voice all but poured from his lips in what should have been a suave smile. 

“You could hand me those papers I gotta’ sign and release me from this poorly decorated take on modernism.” Your mind moved faster than your head sometimes, most times really, and you weren’t about to switch up now that one the world’s most infamous bachelors stood before you, he huffed a laugh through his nose at your blunt response, the people around him never spoke to him like that, hell nobody did, terrified to say the wrong thing before him and face the consequences. Yet here you were. A genuine smirk graced his rugged face, the slight salt and pepper look fit him like a glove and if in any other circumstance you probably would have told him so, but now all you wanted was to sign this thing and get back to work on your board. 

“Norman mentioned his son taking over.” Bruce had all but discarded the party he’d entered with, a silent wave summed one of them over, file in hand. The man handed Bruce the papers before scurrying away, the two of you now walking towards what you assumed was a conference room. 

“He is,” your intense stare had never wavered from his own, until this moment, he could see you go into yourself for the right words. 

“It be a little hard to sign these where he’s at so- I came to the rescue.” This pulled another huffed chuckle from the man, his interest growing with every word from your mouth. “Well  thank god for that right?” His tone held flirtation, eyes never leaving you even as he signed his name.

”You look too young to be in this business anyway.” He said trying to gauge as much information from you as he could, “You still got some life in you.”  He slid the forms over with that. A humm of amusement left you as you quickly penned every line. He realized once you finished you’d have no reason to stay, and for whatever reason, this thought shot panic through him. Not quite ready to say goodbye, he cleared his throat. 

 “You don’t want to give these a look? Make sure I’m not up to no good?” There that tone was again, you sucked your teeth at the older man, a dangerous glint in your smile, “Careful there Mr. Wayne. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”

His response was cut off by a chirp from his watch. A look of annoyance crossed his face as he began to as for your number. “I’d say see you around but that be a lie so, peace.” You awkwardly took his hand in a firm shake before turning and leaving in a swift motion, Bruce could only blink after your disappearing form all to eager to indulge in his urge to follow, only to quickly remember the alert from his watch, Batman didn’t have time for this much to his dismay, while Bruce didn’t get nearly as much information as he wanted, he would in due time. It take some serious detective work to figure out if this was just attraction, or something else burning in his gut, either way this wouldn’t be your last encounter.

[yandere-wishes]

⭒°𖦹ᯓlacerationsᯓ𖦹°⭒

Author's note: I have made a wondrous discovery. It's called waking up before 10 am. You get the beautiful solitude of staying up past midnight but with an extra bout of energy. And a little extra time to waste on useless things!

WARNINGS: dead dove, Dead Dove, DEAD DOVE, gore, blood, yandere behavior, multifandom (sorta, there weren't many on either side so I just lumped them together) seriously DEAD DOVE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. °꒷꒦︶ ๋꒷꒦︶ ๋꒷꒦

Harvey Dent - Two Face | هاروی دنت - دو چهره

You can feel the keratin sinking through skin, tearing the layer of flesh covering your back. Harvey pulls down the incision, well Harv does technically. Letting it marr his fingertips as his tongue nicks itself along your teeth. His other hand, the human side you think bitterly, Harvey, traces constellations across your thighs, nails ever only grazing skin to connect rogue stars. You suck in a sharp breath when his lips abandon yours, feel the longing of his blue eyes sinking into you.

"Don't think" he rasps, voice smooth as silk so soft it makes you maon. "Let the coin choose," he demands voice so gruff you practically feel the sandpaper skating across your skin. The coin dances across the air like loose flower petals to the wind. Only to land scarred side up. You feel the burning ache again, his nails digging into your chest, leaving jagged trails in their wake. Harvey kisses you again, pushing his pain past your teeth and down your gasping throat.

Jason Todd - Red Hood | جیسون تاد - نقاب قرمز

You wonder if he thinks no one would realize if he died. No one would care. That's the problem with dead things walking, it's hard to weep for something twice gone.

Jason's lips are cold, they're always cold, he's never quite as warm as he should be, then again what dead thing is? You can taste the blood and lukewarm Coca-Cola as he forces his tongue past your sealed lips. Sweet iron flooding your mouth, probably from a gash inside his mouth. Your nails dig into the clean-cut scar engraved across his chest. It's instinctual trying to ward off the dead. His hands lay heavy atop your hips memento mori seeping into the bones. Your palms brace his shoulders but there's no defying death.

Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow | جاناتان کرین - مترسک

It makes sense, he thinks as your little fingers thread the needle through his skin and pull trying to seal the bleeding. Scarecrow, scarecrow, a patchwork of old fabrics to brittle for clothes. What's the difference when it comes to him? He's no less patchwork no less a menace than the straw-stuffed mascots he claims to be. But, and although he knows this isn't perfectly logical, Jonathan can't help but wonder if any scarecrow has ever wished for their seamstress to trail languid kisses across the scars, across the patchwork. To brush their ethereal lips along each stitch. To make the pain worth it.

He loves the way you cry and squirm. Withering in pain the needles pierce through flesh, lacing thread and skin. His tongue laps at the blood still spilling from the half-open wound. Relishing in the shaky breath you take and the delicate hiss of pain. The needles sink in again, threading faster. There's some mirthful irony stored somewhere in all of this. He just can't tell what it fully is.

Roman Sionis - Black Mask | رومن سیونیس - ماسک سیاه

You listen to his music, to the thundering 80's metal reverberating across the room as if trying to break the bars of some invisible cage as if trying to seep through dimensions. Roman lets out a lazy breath of smoke, you let the scent burn your nostrils and sink into your flesh. MINE it screams just like everything else he does. You take your own intake, harboring the smoke between your cheeks letting the poison trickle down your lungs until you can't breathe. Then out into the air chasing pathetically after Roman's smoke. Cause isn't that what life is? An endless chase? Trailing after the thing that broke you, that scarred you beyond repair. What happens when you catch it? Do you kill it or kiss it? Will it let you do either?

Roman props himself up on his elbow, black eyes roaming over your scarcely dressed form. "Cute" he mutters, the timber of his voice always echos. You blame the mask, the ebony ivory. Roman brings the cigarette down, the molten heat penetrating the fat of your thigh. You moan or scream, as the sizzling of your skin rings within your ears. The burnt flesh reeks. You wither beneath the pain letting it engulf you and sink inside till your bones cry. Roman twists the cigarette making sure the ashes tumble down your leg little embers leaving dead stars across your flesh. When he finally lifts the dreaded thing you can't help but trace your fingers over the burnt bound. But he swats your fingers away instead, inserting his own, digging his nails into the raw patch until you cry out again.

Anakin Skywalker - Darth Vader | آناکین اسکای واکر - دارت ویدر

The smile he offers is too genuine, too golden. It stings more than the phantom pain scratching at your wrist. Ani's fingers trace the wires of your exposed hand with all the gentleness you'd expect from someone so holy. Twirling wire ends together before binding them with the silver alloy.

He breaks, lifting his head to leave shallow kisses across the valley of your hand where flesh meets metal. Laughing so sweetly when you wince that it makes your stomach churn. Sometimes he lets the iron slip, letting it tickle your arm and imprint it's fine tip across your glowing skin as if it's all a joke, some inside quip between two friends. But you take it sharply cursing at the galaxy beneath your breath for all its cruel cruel mockery.

Darth Maul | دارت مول

Maybe it's the hunger, that makes everything worse. The desperate need for his attention, molten gold gaze bearing into your soul. Taking apart the broken thing and chipping off more pieces than you care to count. Slowly you pace forward, surprised when he lets you lay your hand atop his. Lets you draw closer to his saber.

You feel the burning light kissing your lips, daring you to open your mouth. Your tongue slowly lulls out empaling itself on the red light. Maul laughs at the burning scent that wafts through the starship. Inhales it desperately, engraving it across his mind. Why does this hurt less than his kisses? Why does being burnt by laser light feel so must sweeter than the touches your lover weaves across your fractured body? Lightsaber burns on your tongue, burnt sugar wafting through the air it's all better than the all-consuming darkness that Maul pushes between your bones each night.

[yandereclues]

Hey!!!!!How are u doing!!!I just wanted ask for 26 and 151 yandere prompt for Roman Sionis once u have seen birds of prey plz!!!❤️🥰💙

Hello dear!!! I am much better now! Happy Valentine’s Day! ✌️💞 (also Roman’s a bit of a softie in this one, because I live for a softie Roman)

Pairing: Yandere! Roman Sionis/Black mask x Gender-Neutral Reader

Warning: Displays of obsessive behaviors,

26. "Why are you so afraid of me? I won't hurt you. Ever."

151. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. I can hear you breathing, my love.”

Roman was, how would you say?

Different. Of course he differed from your past partners, due to his line of work. But he was also different in the way he loved. At times he would be showering you with gifts and affection. But at other times, he would be cold and distant. At a point when he was more cold and distant, you attempted to reach out to him. You came to visit him in his office. He simply brushed you off though, telling you he had work to do. You felt as though you might cry. He had been working non-stop for weeks now, you only saw him when he came home to sleep. You had finally had enough. Enough of him working all day, every day. Enough of the worrying. Enough of the fear. You, against your better judgement, voiced your complaints.

“I want to break up,” you said simply, your voice echoed through the room. There was a moment of silence, in which Roman stopped writing on the documents in front of him. Before he spoke, his voice was low and calm. “No.”

You were stunned at his words. Had he just? Refused to break up with you?

“Excuse me?” You inquired. He now looked up from his papers. His facial expression was emotionless as he spoke. “We’re not breaking up.”

You stood your grounds though, not allowing your fear of the man to make your decision for you.

“You can’t just say no. I’m leaving tonight,” you stated. You collected yourself, now standing to leave. He looked up from his papers once again, making sure to look you dead in the eyes. “ No, you’re not. And that’s final,” he spat with aggravation.

You scoffed, now making your way towards the door. You rushed to your shared bedroom, grabbing your small luggage set and stuffing it full of whatever clothes you grabbed first. You went into the bathroom and took your toothbrush and toothpaste, also putting them into the luggage set. You walked out of the room and down the corridor towards the front door, dragging the luggage behind you. You were finally ready to leave, ready to get away. You weren’t quite sure where you might go, but you would figure something out.

You called a taxi, letting them know where you were. You sat on the front steps, awaiting your taxi. As you waited, you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, knowing it was probably Roman. He was probably standing there, whiskey in hand, as the door stood ajar.

“You’re not leaving,” he spat behind you. You felt a sudden grasp on the nape of your neck, pulling you into the house from where you had sat. “What the hell?!” You shouted, trying to get the hand away from your neck, “What’re you doing?!” You pulled out of Roman’s grip turning to face him, now in the foyer. “You can’t leave me,” he spoke, gesturing for his guards to block the door. With a gloved hand, he reached out to touch your face. You flinched away, and turned towards the kitchen. He frowned at your reaction, pulling his hand away. "Why are you so afraid of me? I won't hurt you. Ever." He spoke calmly. You dashed into the kitchen with no hesitation, the sound of your shoes squeaking against the wooden floors rang through the room as you ran. Tears pricked your eyes as his words rang in your head. You had seen what he did to people, and the mere thought of him doing anything remotely similar to you was terrifying

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked. You ran around the spacious kitchen, turning to now run into the dining room. And then into the den, followed by the sunroom. Noticing he was merely speed-walking behind you, you sped up the stairs. In an attempt to somehow lose the man in his own house.

You dashed down the corridor, and into his office. Your eyes scanned around the room, searching for a place he might not look. Just to buy enough time for you to figure out an escape plan. Your scanning stopped though as your eyes laid upon his desk. You hurried over to his desk, walking behind it and crawling beneath. You made sure to pull the chair back under the desk slightly. You heard the clicking of the thick oak door pushing open, followed by the tapping Roman’s leather shoes on the wooden floor. He paced around the room, looking around the room as if he had no idea where you might be. He soon paced out in front of his desk, taking a moment to tap his fingers on it.

“Com e out, come out, wherever you are,” he waltzed behind the desk, pulling his chair out as he went, “I can hear you breathing, my love.” He bent down, looking under the desk where you sat. His gaze quickly met your teary, fear ridden eyes. He reached out to grab your ankle, and gently pulled you out from under his desk. You were shaking at this point, terrified of what Roman might do to you.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” he cooed, picking you up bridal style, “it’s alright.” Of course he was angry that you had tried to escape, but he just couldn’t bear to see you cry. He had always hated it when you cried. It made him feel like he had failed. Failed in making you happy. Failed in keeping you safe. He pulled the chair back to the desk, sitting as he did so. He placed you into his lap, facing him of course. You tried to push him off, in a final attempt to get away. But he simply took your hands in his. Gentle enough to allow comfort, but firm enough to stop you from struggling. He pulled you into his chest with ease, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder. He whispered sweet nothing into your ear as he calmly petted your head.

“It’s okay dear,” he whispered, “I won’t hurt you.”

[yandere-wishes]

Do you think Roman Sionis would drug his darling? Like get her addicted, so no matter what she's always running back to him? Maybe offering her a product only he can provide?

Or would he be so possessive that he wants her to ONLY think of him? Would he break her and screw her up mentally to the point where she's completely ADDICTED to him?

Thoughts?

[yandere-wishes]

Both are going to get written eventually. Regardless let me know in the comments if you want to be tagged and in which story.

[yandere-wishes]

Probably not going to get to writing this fic until late November/early December but might as well make the taglist rn.

So you know the drill if you want to be on the taglist for Yandere!Harvey Dent x reader x Yandere! Roman Sionis then let me know in the comments.

[yandere-wishes]

Ever since moving to London, I've started to notice more and more luxury brands and high-end fashions. And lately, all I can think about when I see them Is how Roman Sionis would feel about them? Would he shop here? Would he wear the jewelry from this store? What about boots from this place? would he take his darling here?would he shop or rob? Would he even care?