#yandere undertale x reader

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Sans Would Include:

A yandere Sans would be very protective over the person he's in love with, to the point of being possessive and controlling. He'd likely be very attached to you, and would become extremely jealous if you even showed a hint of interest in someone else -

He'd probably try to isolate you from other people to keep you all to himself. He'd also likely be quite obsessive and stalking, always wanting to know what they're doing and who they're with, and trying to manipulate them into spending time with just him.

He'd probably go to extreme lengths to get what he wants, and might even resort to violence if he thought it was necessary to keep you to himself. He'd also possibly be very insecure and paranoid, constantly worrying that you'd leave him, and trying to prevent that from happening by any means necessary.

He'd probably also use guilt trips and emotional manipulation to keep you around, making you feel guilty for wanting to spend time with anyone else or do anything that doesn't involve him.

In general, a yandere Sans would be a very intense and possessive partner who would stop at nothing to keep you to himself. While he might seem sweet and caring at first, he'd likely show a darker side if he thought you were going to leave him or if he thought someone else was interested in you.

In the presence of others, he'd likely put on a facade of nonchalance and coolness, trying to appear like he doesn't really care. But deep down, he'd be anxious and jealous, and always watching you to make sure no one else is getting too close. He'd probably also make subtle comments or jokes that are secretly meant to tell everyone else that you belong to him.

He'd likely be very praise-oriented, constantly giving you compliments and telling you how much he loves you. He'd also likely get jealous if he saw anyone else complimenting you or giving you attention, and might try to find ways to subtly discredit them or put them down in order to make himself look better in comparison.

In terms of punishments, he'd likely start with subtle things like giving you the cold shoulder or ignoring you if you did something he didn't like. If the behavior continued, he might escalate to more extreme measures like threatening to leave or making threats. He might also use emotional manipulation to make you feel bad about yourself and guilty for your actions. In the most severe cases, he might resort to physical violence or even kidnapping to keep you from leaving or to punish you for your perceived transgressions.

He'd likely be very reassuring, constantly telling you that he loves you and that you're the most important person in his life. He'd try to comfort you and make you feel safe by reassuring you that he would never leave you and that he'll always be there for you no matter what. He'd also try to provide emotional support and validation, especially if he thought you were feeling insecure or self-conscious about anything.

He'd likely be very affectionate, constantly wanting to touch, hug, and hold you. He'd probably try to initiate physical intimacy as often as possible, and would get jealous if he saw you being affectionate with anyone else. He might also give gifts and do favors for you to show how much he cares, and would likely crave physical touch and attention from you.

He'd likely plan out very elaborate dates, trying to impress you and show off how much he cares. He'd probably want to take you to fancy restaurants or expensive outings and make a big production of everything. He'd also likely have a lot of expectations for the date, and would get disappointed or even angry if things didn't go the way he envisioned them.

He'd likely be extremely jealous, constantly worrying that you'll leave him for someone else or find someone else more attractive. He'd likely get angry or possessive if he saw you with someone else, and might even follow you to make sure you're not up to anything. He'd also likely monitor your social media and phone for any signs of infidelity or even just talking to other people too much.

He'd likely be very controlling, trying to dictate how you dress, who you spend time with, and even what you do with your free time. He'd probably get angry if he thought you were spending too much time with anyone else and might even try to isolate you from friends and family in order to keep you all to himself. He'd also likely be very possessive of your personal space, not wanting you to have any privacy or alone time.

He'd likely also be extremely insecure, constantly needing reassurance from you that you're still attracted to him and still want to be with him. He'd probably get jealous if you even showed a hint of interest in someone else, and would try to put them down or make himself look better by comparison.

He would probably have a shrine dedicated to you filled with pictures, momentos, and anything else that reminds him of you. He might also keep things you've given him as gifts or keepsakes, and would likely have some kind of altar or shrine-like setup in his home where he would occasionally worship or "pay tribute" to you.

He'd likely be very eager to get married as soon as possible, trying to hurry things along so you'd be permanently his. He'd probably want a big, extravagant wedding and would be very controlling and demanding about everything from the guest list to the bouquet. He'd also likely be very possessive and jealous on the wedding night, not wanting to be separated from you for even a moment.

He'd likely be very keen on starting a family with you as soon as possible. He'd probably want to start trying for kids right away and would be very determined and persistent about it. He'd also likely be very protective and possessive over any children you'd have together, not wanting to let them out of his sight or share them with anyone else.

He might become very desperate, trying to pressure you into changing your mind or even considering things like adoption or surrogacy. He might also get angry and frustrated at the situation, feeling as though you're being unfair or denying him something he considers essential to his happiness and future. He may even try to hide or destroy birth control methods so that you'd conceive sooner.

"You're mine, and I won't let anyone else take you away from me. I don't know what I'd do without you - you're my everything. I'll do anything and everything to keep you safe and protect you, my darling. No one else could ever replace you in my heart, you're irreplaceable. I'll always be here for you, my love, no matter what happens or where we are."

[yanderes-galore]

Platonic/Romantic Aphlys (Undertale)

Honestly... There's some soft yandere potential here I think. Sorry if it's too simple, I kept getting writer's block midway through.

Yandere! Alphys Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Breach of privacy, Hidden cameras, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Kidnapping, Isolation, Denial/Guilt, Lucid/Slightly delusional yandere, Drugging, Dubious companionship/relationship.

This idea seems a bit... ironic to me?

Alphys has always been obsessed with human anime and culture.

It would be interesting if she picked up her behavior due to one of the animes she watched.

That or subconsciously mimicked what she saw in an anime.

I highly doubt Alphys could actually kill anyone though.

I feel she's more of a... soft yandere.

She's a shy introvert, an intelligent scientist with low self-esteem.

She's probably unable to bring herself to harm anyone.

Although, it is canon that Alphys is heavily into fandom culture.

She likes shipping and sharing her opinions.

Another thing to note is the fact that she uses cameras to spy on the player in Undertale.

For the most part, Alphys is a soft yandere.

She's mostly harmless towards her obsession and others.

Which is, honestly, a nice change.

Most of the time yandere can be intentionally destructive towards those around them.

Alphys? No, most of the time she works on keeping her obsession secret.

I feel she'd act almost the same between a platonic or romantic obsession.

It's just with a romantic obsession, she ends up writing more intimate things down in her diary.

Alphys, no matter the kind of her obsession, may also feel bad about having it.

She thinks her obsession deserves better... but you're just so cool.

She knows this is wrong, but can't help it?

Alphys is very quiet about her obsession, keeping it as yet another secret in her life.

She's shy around her obsession, often stuttering at first depending on her feelings.

In terms of her yandere behavior, she's a quiet stalker.

She watches what you do through cameras, she writes down notes about you in her diary, and often thinks of little fantasies between you and her.

She's a perfectionist at times and always looks for validation in her obsession.

She wants your approval and does anything to get it.

Including lying to you just to have your attention.

She's also a bit clingy when it comes to texting and calling.

It takes her a long time to properly talk to you and call you... but she does it so often from her lab.

Sometimes she even asks you what you're doing despite watching what you're doing from a monitor.

She watches you so often, taking notes and everything.

She's not possessive or jealous, really.

Most of the time she just quietly deals with her jealousy.

She feels... left out when you're with others.

For the most part she can get over it.

Although... What if she couldn't?

While I mostly see Alphys as a soft yandere, what if she did snap?

Alphys kidnapping may be rare, but I feel as a yandere it would be possible.

Would she feel guilty? Very.

Alphys doesn't like to think of the idea, really.

She's a lucid yandere who is aware of her actions.

Unfortunately... She seems to be more driven by her desires than her guilty feelings.

While it would be rare for her to do, what if Alphys kidnapped you and kept you in the True Lab?

She knows she shouldn't have listened to her jealous feelings... She would've been perfectly fine watching you through her cameras...

Yet then she saw you get close to others... and she wonders if you'll forget her.

The fear of you abandoning her would be what drives her to do what she does.

Mettaton did that once she made him famous.

What if you do the same?

You could say she's also a bit delusional, hoping to convince herself she had to do this.

But deep down, she knows she didn't... She shouldn't have.

It was wrong to drug you to have you all to herself.

While she knows she never meant to hurt you... It doesn't make it right.

She has you all to herself, but you're unhappy.

She could've accepted her jealousy... even talked about it with you...

But she was worried that alone would make you leave her.

Well, now you can't leave... yet won't talk to her.

You won't let her touch you... You won't listen to her...

You're scared, locked away like her experiments.

She knows she's gone too far... She can't let you go...

She knows the right thing to do would be to free you...

Unfortunately, she can't bring herself to do it, this must be better than being alone....

At some point she hopes to ignore the guilt she feels when doing this... This is wrong, after all...

But when it comes to your attention, she'll do anything to have it.

[alex-rambles]

Yandere sans headcanons?

-Sans is EXTREMELY unlikely to turn yandere

-He's chill, he's laid back

-If he did turn yandere, it'd most likely be on as well as after a genocide or neutral route (that isn't flawed pacifist)

-Everyone is dying

-If you're a human, you fell down here a while ago. He's known you forever! Knows you're chill

-If you're a monster obviously he's ok with you from the get go blah blah blah

-But Frisk is killing loads of people

-He gets anxious

-Anxiety becomes paranoia

-Because he's watched it OVER AND OVER, unendingly. It's all okay, he's at the surface, with you, when suddenly, he's back in Snowdin and Player/Frisk is going on a killing spree

-He's not necessarily the jealous type

-He trusts you wouldn't ever go for someone else

-Essentially, he just kidnaps you for your safety

-People can still see you, he's not really abusive, you're just a hostage

-Unfortunately, once he kidnaps you once, he'll keep doing it every reset

-Just to be sure you'll be okay

-But Sans is still his goofy ass self

-There will likely be fights

-You're pissed you're stuck in one place

-But it's okay, you'll come to be grateful soon! Right?

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere hcs ; mettaton

requested by ; anonymous (13/08/22)

fandom(s) ; undertale

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; mettaton

outline ; “Yandere Mettaton headcanons...”

warning(s) ; obsessive behaviour, toxic relationship, stalking, kidnapping, references to violence/murder

you are the centre of his world and he goes to great lengths to make sure that the rest of the underground know that you’re his

has an entire segment of his show dedicated to you: your voice, your image, your hobbies, your achievements and your latest activities

it starts off as a sort of news segment but it quickly devolves into lewd speech that needs to be censored in its entirety

he forces you to stay in his home or at his studio at all times — either in his presence directly or constantly on private cameras so he can keep an eye on you

(you don’t know how many cameras there are or where they are, just that some are there)

if you escape he’ll send his fans after you under the guise of a competition

your face is plastered everywhere so there’s no chance of you getting away for very long

you get fan-mail like mettaton does, but he personally monitors every letter to make sure you only get platonic flattering things and nothing flirty

anyone who does express any romantic ideas towards you or any dislike of him will be targeted and exterminated by himself or someone who follows him

he’s super affectionate and big on praising you — with his compliments ranging from earnest to lewd as his metal hands go lower and lower

he has no boundaries with you and unless you’re really polite about it he won’t respect yours (with one obvious exception)

if you’re resistant then he’ll isolate you completely until you’re so dependent on him for socialisation that you stop fighting back against his affection

calls you ‘darling’ of course but he always prefaces it with ‘my’ — just emphasising that you belong to him at any opportunity he can

he’s a killer robot and isn’t above hurting others to prove a point to you (be that friends, family, ex lovers or concerned bystanders)

he’d never physically hurt you, though, as he finds you much too precious

bullies and guilts you into saying that you love him every day — even several times a day — because he thrives off of your affection and attention

[fangdokja]

You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped in his obsession, your brother’s love is a cage—burning, possessive, and unyielding. Every kiss is a claim, every touch a warning. You’re his, and he’ll make sure the world knows it.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Older Brother x Fem. Reader

♡ Novelette. Sins of the Silent Heart - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 6,926

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, incest, unhealthy power dynamics, toxic relationship, spanking and slapping, emotional and psychological manipulation, social isolation, non-con kissing, physical assault and abuse

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

The dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp painted long, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting the once-familiar room into a grotesque parody of safety. His room—a chaotic vortex of textbooks, rumpled sheets, and the faint scent of stale cologne—now felt like a predator’s den, with you caught squarely in its jaws. The door clicked shut behind you with an almost mocking finality, the latch’s soft groan a promise of no escape.

He stood near the bed, his back to you, shoulders tense as if bracing for an internal war. His silhouette was a study in contradiction—strong, protective lines now cast in a menacing, foreboding light. The distant hum of the world beyond the house seemed to mock the thick silence between you, punctuated only by the rasp of his uneven breathing.

“Why are you here?” His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, low and clipped, every syllable weighted with restraint.

“I… I just wanted to talk.” Your words wavered, the carefully rehearsed lines evaporating under his icy stare when he turned, his eyes locking onto yours.

Those eyes, once a sanctuary of warmth during countless childhood nights, now held a glacial fury, as if he blamed you for some unseen torment. But beneath the chill was something darker, something that churned like a black hole, swallowing reason and morality whole. You couldn’t name it, but you could feel it—a suffocating, primal pull that made your stomach twist and your legs stiffen.

“I’ve been busy,” he said curtly, turning back to his desk, dismissing you as easily as one might swat away an insect. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.” The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, a desperate attempt to breach the widening chasm between you. “I thought—now that we’re both here—maybe we could…” Your voice faltered as he turned again, this time slowly, deliberately, like a predator circling prey.

“Miss me?” he repeated, his lips curving into a bitter smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

The accusation hit harder than you expected, making your chest tighten. “That’s why I’m here,” you murmured, your hands clenching at your sides. “To know you again.”

He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Know me?” His gaze raked over you, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. “You wouldn’t want that. Trust me.”

His words were a warning, but they only fueled your resolve. You stepped closer, driven by the memory of the brother who once held your hand during thunderstorms, who stayed up late helping you with your homework, who always told you everything would be okay. “You’re still my brother,” you said softly, pleadingly.

“Don’t,” he growled, his voice suddenly sharp, his hand twitching as if to reach for you but stopping short. “Don’t call me that.”

The air between you grew oppressive, thick with unspoken truths. Your heart pounded as his gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide as they drank you in. For a moment, his mask of indifference cracked, and what lay beneath made your stomach churn.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was low, almost gentle, but it carried the weight of a confession. “The way you look at me? The way you follow me around like a lost kitten?” He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed into the wall, your breath hitching. “You’ve always needed me. Always depended on me. And now you think you can waltz in here and what? Fix everything? Fix me?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Shut up.” His voice cut through your protest like a whip. He was close now, too close, his breath hot against your cheek. The smell of him—faintly metallic, tinged with sweat—wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. “You don’t know the first thing about me, about what I’ve done. About the things I think about when I look at you.”

The room seemed to tilt, the floor buckling under the weight of his words. “I… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he sneered, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall beside your head, caging you in. “Because you’re pure. Untouched. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this...this sickness. To want something you can never fucking have.”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the frantic pounding of your heart. His confession hung in the air like a noose, tightening around your throat.

“I tried,” he continued, his voice shaking now, the cracks in his facade spreading. “I tried to stay away. To forget. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked trying to scrub you out of my head? But it doesn’t work. It never fucking works.” His hand slid down the wall, his knuckles brushing against your shoulder. “You’re in here,” he said, tapping his temple, then his chest. “In here. Like a damn parasite.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Why are you saying this?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why now?”

“Because you’re here,” he said simply, his lips curling into a twisted smile. “Because you walked into my fucking room and looked at me like that. Like I’m still the hero you remember. Like I haven’t been corrupted.”

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he replied, his tone soft but laced with menace. “You should be scared. Because if you stay, I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room charged with a tension so thick it was suffocating. Then, with a suddenness that made you flinch, he stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “Get out,” he growled, his voice rough and uneven. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands fumbled with the doorknob, your legs barely supporting you as you stumbled out of the room. As the door slammed shut behind you, the last thing you heard was the sound of his ragged breathing, a haunting symphony of longing and despair.

────────────

It began in your first year of university, with a joke. A harmless, stupid, throwaway line.

"Hey, your sister's cute. Maybe I'll ask her out when she’s older."

You hadn’t been there to hear it. Maybe that was for the best. He’d laughed then, a sound so casual it might have fooled anyone listening. “Don’t even think about it,” he’d said, shoving his friend’s shoulder as if it were all a joke. But deep down, something had snapped into place.

It wasn’t anger, exactly—not yet. Just a quiet, simmering unease that he didn’t understand.

You were always close to him, always lingering just at the edge of his vision, a constant part of his life. He was your older brother; it was natural. He was protective—maybe a little too much so. But wasn’t that what older brothers were supposed to be? That’s what he told himself whenever he felt the strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

It only became a problem the day he saw you with someone else.

It was late autumn, and the world was painted in muted tones of orange and gray. He’d been walking to the library to pick you up when he saw you standing beneath a streetlamp with a boy.

The sight froze him in place.

You were holding a notebook, pointing to something on the page, explaining something with that calm, patient expression you always wore. The boy leaned in, his eyes never leaving your face.

And that was when he felt it. That sick, twisting feeling in his gut. The way the boy looked at you—like he wanted something. Like he thought he deserved something.

His hands clenched into fists, the sharp bite of his nails grounding him just enough to keep him from storming over. He didn’t know what he’d say if he did. What excuse could he possibly give?

Instead, he stayed hidden in the shadows, watching as you finished your tutoring session. The boy lingered too long, said something that made you smile faintly, and then finally walked away.

You didn’t even notice him standing there. You just closed your notebook, adjusted the strap of your bag, and walked off as if nothing had happened.

He followed you home that day, keeping a careful distance.

After that, it was as though something inside him had cracked open.

He told himself it was normal to be worried. You were too trusting, too naive. You didn’t see the way people looked at you. You didn’t realize how vulnerable you were. Someone had to protect you—someone who knew you better than anyone else.

But it wasn’t just about protection anymore.

It was about possession.

He tried to ignore it at first. Tried to tell himself it was nothing. But every time he saw you leave to meet that boy, his anger simmered just a little hotter. It didn’t matter that you were only tutoring him. It didn’t matter that you weren’t interested. He could see the way the boy looked at you, the way he lingered when you weren’t paying attention.

He started watching you more closely after that. You didn’t notice—of course, you didn’t. You never seemed to notice anything when it came to him.

When you weren’t around, he buried himself in distractions. He went out with his friends, dated girls who were nothing like you, did anything he could to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Every laugh, every touch, every kiss felt wrong. None of them were you.

By the time you started your second year of university, and him at his Master's, he’d perfected the art of keeping his distance. He didn’t want you to see the way he looked at you, didn’t want you to know the things he thought about late at night when he was alone.

But keeping his distance didn’t mean he stopped watching. He always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.

You were his. Even if you didn’t know it.

Another day, he caught you talking to someone else. Another boy. It didn’t matter that the conversation was casual, that you barely even smiled. All he could think about was how easily someone else could take you away from him.

When you came home that evening, he didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask why he was so quiet, why he avoided your gaze, why his knuckles were red and raw as if he’d been punching something—or someone.

You never asked questions like that.

Maybe you should have.

Now, standing in his room, he runs his hands through his hair, staring at the picture of you on his desk. It’s an innocent photo, one taken years ago during a family trip. But to him, it’s more than that.

It’s proof. Proof that you belong to him. Proof that no one else has the right to take you away.

He knows he can’t keep this up forever. He knows the truth will come out eventually.

But when it does?

You won’t have a choice.

────────────

It began with distance. He thought it would fix things—make him normal again, make you normal again. He pulled back, growing cold and indifferent, watching you from a distance as you stumbled through life. You didn’t even notice, did you? How he deliberately stopped answering your questions with warmth, how he only gave you clipped, efficient replies. How he didn’t teach you the things he should have, the things that would have made you stronger.

You didn’t need friends. He made sure of that.

He liked it that way—your awkwardness, your inability to connect with others. It kept you safe. It kept you his.

But then...

Then, he saw the change.

You became distracted, eyes far away, your lips twitching into little half-smiles when you thought no one was looking. At first, he ignored it. Told himself it didn’t matter. But then he started noticing the way you doodled during your free time, how your handwriting softened, curling into childish hearts.

And then the name.

Daniel.

The rage that erupted in his chest was immediate, primal. He wasn’t proud of how quickly he found your diary, how thoroughly he read every naïve, saccharine line.

"Daniel held my book today! He smiled at me, I think! Maybe I’ll ask him to the dance? Would he say yes? It’s stupid, but I think we’d make a great match."

You wrote about your future. About marriage. Little plans you hid in the margins of your notebook like some ridiculous fairytale.

Marriage, when you didn’t even know what it meant. When you’d never spared him, the one who’s protected you your entire life, that warm, shy smile.

He could’ve broken your door when he threw it open that night. You weren’t even there to hear the sound splinter through the silence, or see the way he stood there, shaking, fists clenched white-knuckled. He tore through your things after that—pictures, scraps of paper, clothes—he wanted to find anything, anything that might explain why you’d betrayed him like this.

You didn’t have the right to want someone else. You barely knew what you wanted! That boy didn’t even like you. Couldn’t you see it?

The world saw you as the awkward, strange little thing you’d always been. And he liked it that way. It kept the wolves at bay. He kept the wolves at bay.

But this boy? This Daniel? He didn’t even look at you the way you thought he did. He didn’t deserve your thoughts, your shy little fantasies. He deserved nothing.

When you finally confessed to the boy, he was there.

He’d hidden in the shadows like a predator waiting for the right moment. Watching as you stood there, clutching that stupid notebook to your chest, stammering over your words.

Daniel’s rejection was inevitable. His awkward laugh, his half-hearted apology—it was all so predictably pathetic. But you didn’t stop there.

Even after being turned down, you followed him. Like a kitten, tail wagging, desperate for scraps of affection. The same way you used to follow him.

That night, he didn’t go home. He didn’t sleep.

His body ached, torn between the raw heat of his anger and the cold clarity of his realization.

You’d never shown interest in romance before. Never spared anyone those soft looks, those quiet smiles. Not until now. And the thought of you giving that warmth—his warmth—to someone else?

He didn’t just want to destroy Daniel.

He wanted to destroy you.

You traitorous, ungrateful little bitch.

The next time he saw you, you didn’t notice anything was wrong. How could you?

“Hey,” you’d said softly, the same way you always did when you weren’t sure if you were bothering him. He didn’t reply.

Instead, he crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps. You flinched when he cupped your face, his fingers rough against your skin.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice was calm, too calm, each word slicing through the silence like a blade.

You blinked up at him, confused, your lips parting to stammer out a reply. But he didn’t let you.

“Do you think he could protect you the way I have? Do you think he even sees you? You’re so... stupid.” His grip tightened, just enough to make you gasp. “But I’ll fix that.”

That night, he showed you what it meant to belong to someone.

There was nothing gentle in the way he touched you. Nothing kind. It wasn’t love—not in the way you’d dreamed it would be.

It was sharp edges and whispered threats. The suffocating weight of his body pinning yours to the mattress, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured things too dark to repeat.

“I’ll make sure you never think of him again,” he growled, his voice low and venomous.

You cried. He didn’t stop.

Because you were his. And no one else deserved to have you—not even you.

The next morning, he watched as you sat silently at the table, your hands trembling as you picked at your breakfast.

You didn’t look at him.

Good.

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a satisfied smile.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he said, his tone light and conversational, as if nothing had happened. “You’ll see.”

But in the dim light of the kitchen, his eyes glinted with something darker.

Something permanent.

────────────

He hadn’t kissed you that night. He hadn’t touched you—not in the way he craved. That would come later.

Instead, he had punished you.

The memory played like a cracked film reel in his mind, skipping over the sound of your muffled cries, the way your body jolted with every strike of his hand. He’d treated it like a lesson, hadn’t he? A father disciplining a wayward child, nothing more.

Except it was so much more.

Each tear that slipped down your cheeks, each broken sob, fed something primal inside him. It made him feel strong, in control—your trembling figure draped across his lap, your protests falling to deaf ears.

“You need to understand,” he had murmured between blows, his voice calm, deliberate. “You don’t need anyone else. You don’t get to have anyone else.”

It wasn’t until your body went limp, your resolve shattered, that he finally stopped. His hand lingered against your flushed skin, his breathing uneven. He could feel the temptation coiling inside him, the desire to leave more than just a warning.

But he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Not yet.

You were still too young, too delicate, and he loved you too much to break you completely.

In the days that followed, you clung to him like you always had. The defiance in your eyes was gone, replaced by a docile obedience that filled him with both satisfaction and guilt.

It was better this way. No friends, no distractions.

Just the two of you, the way it had always been.

────────────

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the suffocating quiet of his room.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp as he exhaled sharply.

He could feel the cracks spreading, the fragile dam of restraint he’d built over the years threatening to shatter. You were older now—no longer the awkward, wide-eyed girl he’d once protected. You were beautiful, maddeningly so, and every time he looked at you, he could feel his self-control slipping.

But what was he supposed to do?

His parents had never cared, not about him, not about you. The only thing that mattered to them was the profit you both could generate. He doubted they’d even notice if he crossed the line.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

His gaze drifted to the doorway you’d just passed through, his chest tightening with something dark and suffocating.

He could take you now if he wanted to. No one would stop him. No one would care.

But he cared.

He loved you in a way that terrified him, a way that left him tangled in knots of lust and guilt and longing. He wanted you—to keep you, to claim you, to destroy anyone who dared look at you the wrong way. But more than that, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you.

And that’s where the conflict lay.

Would you still look at him with those soft, trusting eyes if you knew what he was thinking? Would you still cling to his arm, still smile at him, still call him brother if you knew the truth?

Or would you hate him?

The thought sent a shiver of rage and despair through him, his hands clenching into fists.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal.

What was the point of waiting?

Every moment he held back felt like agony, his need for you consuming him piece by piece. You were already his, in every way that mattered. You’d been his from the start, long before you even realized it.

He stopped in front of the mirror, his reflection glaring back at him—a predator barely leashed, a man fighting against the very instincts that defined him.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a dark, humorless smile.

“As long as I don’t get caught, right?” he muttered, his voice dripping with bitter irony.

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

When he finally left the room, his mind was made up.

He’d wait, just a little longer. Long enough for you to grow even more dependent on him, long enough for you to forget whatever fleeting fantasies you’d once harbored about other men.

And when the time came, when there was no doubt in your mind that he was the only one who could ever love you, he’d take what was his.

Until then, he’d bide his time.

But God help anyone who got in the way.

You were his. And soon, you’d know it too.

────────────

Classes had started like any other semester. Despite sharing a dorm, he and you had kept your distance—a mutual, unspoken agreement that suited both of you.

On the surface, things appeared normal.

He excelled as always, juggling academics, sports, and a parade of temporary girlfriends like it was nothing. You thrived in your own way, delving into the competitive grind of your entrepreneurship course with an unrelenting focus. To the outside world, you were two strangers, bound only by circumstance. No one would guess you were siblings, much less tied by anything deeper.

And that was fine by him.

As long as you stayed close—within reach—he could tolerate the cold distance between you.

It began as a flicker, a subtle shift in your demeanor that most would have missed.

You’d always been poised, calm, your expressions muted and unreadable, much like his own. But lately, there was something else—an irritation simmering beneath the surface, barely contained. You’d still wear that neutral, aloof mask, but he could see through it.

At first, he dismissed it. Maybe you were stressed. Maybe it was nothing.

But then he noticed the reason.

It was another guy.

The bastard was a thorn in your side, a so-called academic rival who had taken to hounding you relentlessly. He was obnoxious and petty, constantly goading you with thinly veiled insults and challenges.

Initially, he’d thought it might be a good thing—an opportunity for you to toughen up, to learn not to rely on him or anyone else.

How fucking naive he’d been.

The longer he watched, the more he understood.

The interloper didn’t even realize he liked you, not yet, but the signs were there. The way he hovered around you, the excuses he made to stay close, the looks that lingered too long—it was all obvious to him.

What infuriated him most was you.

You, who never cared about anyone. You, who had always kept your distance from people, brushing off their advances without a second thought.

You weren’t pushing the bastard away.

You tolerated him, even seemed to accept his presence, and that made his blood boil.

He told himself it didn’t matter.

No need to make a scene. No need to draw attention.

But it gnawed at him, day by day, that stupid fucker sticking to your side like a damn parasite. He could feel it building inside him, a storm of frustration and possessiveness he couldn’t fully suppress.

And then it happened.

You were late for dinner one evening, and his annoyance was already simmering by the time he went looking for you. He’d told himself he was only checking in because it was still his responsibility to take care of you.

That’s what he told himself.

He found you in an empty classroom.

And you weren’t alone.

────────────

The moment he saw you with him, it was as if the ground beneath his feet had shifted.

At first, it was confusion—a fleeting, disorienting moment where he didn’t fully understand what he was looking at. The interloper, leaning closer, his expression soft and open, the kind of look reserved for someone you cherished. You.

You, standing there, not moving, not rejecting him. Your hand was still, almost brushing against his, your lips parted as if you might speak—or worse, respond.

The first spike of jealousy hit him like a blade.

Not the dull ache of annoyance he’d felt when you first started tolerating this bastard’s presence. No, this was different. This was visceral. It clawed at him, shredding through his carefully constructed self-control until all that remained was raw, unfiltered rage.

His pulse roared in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out reason. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He could feel the metallic tang of it on his tongue, sharp and bitter, mixing with the bile rising in his throat.

He’d always prided himself on being in control. He wasn’t some reckless animal, driven by instinct or emotion. He was better than that. Smarter than that.

But watching that fucking bastard lean closer to you—watching you let him—it unraveled something inside him.

This wasn’t just anger. This wasn’t just possessiveness.

This was a deep, gnawing sickness, a jealousy so consuming it felt like his very soul was being eaten alive.

He couldn’t stand the way the interloper looked at you, like you were something pure and delicate. Like you were a prize to be won.

That was his.

You were his.

The thought burned through him, scorching and absolute.

He’d spent years keeping you close, making sure no one else could reach you, molding your world so that he was at the center of it. And yet, here you were, letting this pathetic excuse of a man step into the space that only he should occupy.

It was a betrayal.

And you—oh, you—were just as much to blame.

You, who never cared for anyone. You, who always kept your distance, your heart locked away. You, who had followed him like a shadow for so long, who had looked at him with that shy, adoring gaze that made him feel untouchable.

Now you were looking at someone else.

And it wasn’t just the look—it was your body language, the way you leaned ever so slightly into the interloper’s space. The way your eyes softened, your lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

He wanted to rip that expression off your face.

Not because it didn’t suit you—it did. It was beautiful. It made his heart ache.

But because it wasn’t for him.

The jealousy twisted, dark and monstrous, until it became something else entirely.

He didn’t just want to destroy the interloper.

He wanted to destroy you.

Not completely—no, never completely. You were his, after all. But he wanted to shatter this version of you, the one who dared to look at someone else with warmth. The one who dared to let someone else get close.

He wanted to strip you down to nothing and rebuild you in his image, piece by trembling piece, until there was no room for anyone else.

And then the bastard leaned in closer, and the room seemed to tilt.

The distance between you shrank, his lips hovering just above yours.

────────────

You were letting it happen.

Something inside him snapped.

Before he realized it, he was moving. The door slammed open with a deafening crash, and the interloper jerked back, startled, his face paling when he saw the storm etched into his expression.

“Hey, man—”

The words barely left the bastard’s lips before his fist collided with his jaw, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the empty room. The impact sent the other man sprawling, blood pooling from his broken nose as he groaned in shock and pain.

“Stay. Away.” His voice was low, lethal, the kind of tone that promised far worse if the warning wasn’t heeded.

The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the crumpled figure at his feet.

He turned to you then, his chest heaving, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

You stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, your lips parted in disbelief.

“Get up,” he barked, his tone sharp, brooking no argument. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t move, still staring at the man on the floor, and something in him snapped again.

He crossed the distance between you in two strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him with enough force to make you stumble.

“I said, we’re leaving.” His voice was quieter this time, but the edge of danger was unmistakable.

Your gaze finally shifted to him, your eyes searching his face for something—an explanation, a reassurance, anything.

But all you found was rage.

As he dragged you out of the room, his grip unyielding, his mind raced.

This wasn’t over. Not even close.

You had betrayed him. Again.

And this time, he wasn’t sure he could let it slide.

No one else gets to have you. No one.

────────────

The door to your shared dorm slammed shut behind you with a bone-jarring finality. The echo reverberated in the small space, amplifying the oppressive silence that followed. You winced, clutching your throbbing wrist where his grip had bruised it. But before you could pull away, his hand was on you again, relentless and unyielding.

“Let go,” you hissed, yanking your arm back, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound resolute. The command only seemed to enrage him further.

His response was immediate, a blur of motion and a sting that burned like fire across your cheek. The force sent you staggering, your knees hitting the cold floor as your vision swam. Pain blossomed, sharp and unrelenting, and you tasted copper on your tongue.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” His voice, usually so measured, so cold, was now raw and trembling with fury. He loomed over you, a monolith of rage, his shadow swallowing you whole. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see? Wouldn’t know?”

You pressed a trembling hand to your face, the sting of his slap radiating through your skull. You glared up at him, defiance flickering like a dying ember in your tear-filled eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice quaking as you pushed yourself up. “I didn’t do anything!”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand shot out, tangling viciously in your hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, unhinged gaze.

“Didn’t do anything?” he snarled, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that sent chills racing down your spine. “You let him touch you. You let him. Are you that desperate? That much of a pathetic little whore?”

You choked on a gasp as he tightened his grip, pulling hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your neck. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “I saw it. You didn’t push him away. You didn’t stop him.”

“You’re wong,” you bit out, your voice trembling with fury and fear. “You’re imagining things that aren’t there—”

Another slap cut your words short, sharper this time, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You crumpled again, your cheek pressed against the floor, and before you could recover, his hand was back, dragging you up like a ragdoll.

“Do you spread your legs for anyone who pays attention to you?” he hissed, his voice venomous, laced with a dangerous kind of desperation. “Are you really that easy? That desperate for it?”

You glared at him through the haze of pain and tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. But he wasn’t looking for defiance. He was looking for submission.

For proof that you were his, and his alone.

His free hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was a terrifying mix of fury and something else—something far darker, far more possessive.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Say you’re mine. Say it, or so help me, I’ll make sure no one ever looks at you again.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to scream, but the words caught in your throat as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.

“Say. It.”

The room spun, your vision blurring as the oxygen left your lungs. Panic set in, and your resolve began to crumble. You clawed at his arm, your body trembling with the effort to stay conscious.

“Yours,” you gasped, barely audible, but it was enough.

His grip loosened just enough to let you breathe, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a sickening mix of relief and terror. His grip in your hair eased, but only to drag you closer, his arms encircling you in a cage of muscle and iron will.

“Don’t make me do this again,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less threatening. “I don’t like hurting you. But I will if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

You stayed silent, too shaken to respond, your body trembling in his grasp. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. This was only the beginning of the storm.

────────────

Without another word, his lips slammed onto yours, a bruising, punishing kiss that stole what little breath you had left. Your eyes widened in shock, and you squirmed, thrashing against his iron hold, but it only seemed to fuel him further. His teeth bit down hard on your lower lip, drawing blood, and his tongue invaded your mouth with an almost feral desperation.

Every movement was a claim, a declaration, his hands gripping you like you might vanish if he let go. He growled against your lips, his voice a low, guttural snarl as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning yours effortlessly.

“Since you’re so eager to spread your legs for any man who looks your way,” he hissed, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, “why not for me? Your own older brother. Or does that only make you more of a filthy little slut?”

You shook your head vehemently, tears spilling down your cheeks, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want your consent; he wanted your submission. Your humiliation. His lips crashed against yours again, his teeth marking you, biting and bruising as though he could etch himself into your very being.

His hips pressed against yours, the weight of him inescapable as he ground against you with a possessive growl. Every word that left his mouth was venomous, dripping with jealousy and rage.

“Do you know how sick you make me?” he spat, his voice trembling with fury. “How fucking jealous I get every time I see someone else looking at you? Touching you? You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

Your protests were muffled, your struggles weakening under the sheer force of his assault. His hands roamed your body with an almost methodical cruelty, every touch a reminder that you belonged to him and no one else. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air heavy with his dominance, his possessive need swallowing you whole.

“No one else gets to have you,” he growled against your ear, his voice a deadly promise. “No one.”

His lips crashed against yours again, bruising, punishing, and suffocating. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only raw desperation and rage poured into every motion. His teeth scraped against your lips, a deliberate, cutting edge to the kiss that made you whimper, the taste of blood sharp and metallic as it spread across your tongue. He wasn’t just kissing you; he was claiming you, forcing his presence into every corner of your being.

When you tried to pull back, his hand was there, tangling in your hair with a bruising grip, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Every gasp you took was his to steal, every sound you made swallowed by his insistent, devouring mouth.

His tongue pressed into you, hot and invasive, tasting, consuming, as though he could erase any trace of anyone else with sheer force alone. The kiss deepened with every passing moment, turning darker, hungrier, as his free hand gripped your waist hard enough to leave marks, pressing your body against the wall with an unrelenting pressure.

The sharp pain of his bite pulled a gasp from your lips, and he seized the moment, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that felt almost mocking. It wasn’t enough for him to take; he wanted you to feel it—to feel the way he dominated every inch of you, every sound, every breath.

“You taste like lies,” he growled against your lips, the words vibrating through your chest as his teeth grazed your bottom lip again, threatening another sharp bite. His breath was hot and ragged, mingling with yours, and the fury in his eyes hadn’t dimmed—it had only sharpened, focused entirely on you. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone else have this? Have you?”

Your hands pushed weakly at his chest, but it was like trying to move stone. He laughed, a low, bitter sound that sent chills racing down your spine. “Pathetic,” he sneered, the word dripping with venom. “Look at you. Fighting when you know you’ll lose. You always lose.”

He kissed you again, harder this time, his teeth sinking into your lip just enough to sting before he licked the blood away with a slow, deliberate motion. “Mine,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “Every inch of you. Every breath you take. Don’t forget it.”

He shifted slightly, his hips pressing against yours, trapping you further as his mouth moved with calculated cruelty. Each kiss was an invasion, each touch a brand, his lips trailing down to your jawline and then to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, sending a jolt through your body that you couldn’t suppress.

“You think they could kiss you like this?” he hissed, his voice rough and filled with bitter jealousy. His lips latched onto the base of your throat, sucking hard enough to bruise as his hands roamed your sides with deliberate possessiveness. “Think again.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face inches from yours, his breath fanning against your swollen lips. His thumb brushed your cheek, almost tender, before he pressed it against the raw bite mark he’d left. You flinched, and he smirked, leaning in to whisper against your ear.

“You’ll remember who you belong to. Every time you see these marks, every time you feel them—” His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “—you’ll remember me.”

Then his lips found yours again, relentless, brutal, as though he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into your waist, his nails biting into your skin, and every movement was a reminder of the storm raging beneath his skin.

“You make me like this,” he growled between kisses, his voice thick with fury and something darker. “You make me fucking crazy. You make me want to ruin you, just so no one else can even look at you.”

His words blurred with the heat of his kiss, the tension between you a heady mix of fear, pain, and something far more twisted. And in that moment, you knew there was no escape—not from him, not from this, and certainly not from the obsession that burned in his eyes every time they met yours.

"You're a such a fucking cheating bitch. But, you're my cheating bitch."

List of Fandoms and Characters

Ace Attorney: N/A

Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa

Dishonored Series: Kirin Jindosh

Genshin Impact: Ayato Kamisato, Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima, Ushijima Wakatoshi

Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Chrollo Lucilfer

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru

Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zenin, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Se Jun-Lee

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Xavier

Naruto Shippuden: Kabuto Yakushi, Tobirama Senju

One Punch Man: Amai Mask

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: N/A

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans / Murder! Sans

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

Yandere! Older Brother & Little Sister

Novelette 1 : Sins of the Silent Heart

You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

🔞He says it’s love, but the scars on your skin tell a different story.

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

General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk-blog1

[lucidlabyrinthine145]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝!𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

AN: Hello! Sorry for the long wait, college was kicking my ass and I had a severe case of writer's block. Here's this preview of a new AU I made while I write Part 3 of Elle Woods!Reader :)

For the first years of your life, you grew up in a small barn in the outskirts of Georgia. Your mama was the only family you ever had, you knee nothing of your extended family. Your mama was a nice woman, really. Though she'd beat you sometimes and was a bit of a drunk, she wasn't too bad. But sometimes she'd get so drunk she couldn't get out of bed, and you'd have to do the house chores and take care of the animals all by yourself.

You didn't have too many friends. The school you went to was far away and there the teachers would sneer at you, whispering about how you were the child of a whore whenever you passed. But you didn't care, they could go eat dirt for all you cared. Your classmates didn't care about you much, and your only friend was a girl named Luna, she was a girl from a richer area and was an aspiring ballerina. Overall, while your life back then wasn't particularly good, it wasn't all that bad either.

That was until the accident

You came back from school to see your home in flames. Firefighters and paramedics were called, and you were forced to see the charred body of your mama being hauled into an ambulance on a stretcher. She died in the hospital. You didn't even have time to process her death when they revealed there was only one person willing to take you in. Your biological father Bruce Wayne. Some rich schmuck living in Gotham.

You've heard of the place through the whispering of classmates―a shithole of a city where the crime rates are an all time high and where the elusive Batman was dwelling. You were being taken from your quiet country life and forced to live in some cold mansion in a dank, rainy city where everyone hated each other and criminals lurked everywhere.

After being carted off to the local orphanage, the days went by in a blur. Soon enough, a sleek, black, expensive-looking car rolled up to the entrance. Guess it was time. You dragged your small suitcase, full of stuff you managed to salvage from the fire, including your mama's old hat she used to wear as a girl and an empty pistol. You didn't know why you took the pistol, you just wanted to feel safe, you supposed. You hopped in the back seat, and you saw the driver was an old man.

"You are (name) (last name), correct?" The man spoke in a posh British accent. "Yessir." You mumbled back. He didn't say much after, just started up the car. You were almost relieved you were leaving now, you weren't sure you were able to take anymore of the pitying glances sent at the orphanage.

This wasn't fair. Why did this have to happen to you? You just wanted your mama.

-------------------------------------------------------

AN: That's it for now! Part Three of Elle Woods!Reader is coming out in a few days, so be prepared :)

[yandere-toons]

Yandere: "is that your family?" S/O: "nope, nah-uh, nada. I've never seen those people in my life"

Years of hard data say you're lying, but they're not about to incriminate themselves by revealing so: Huey Duck, Hunter | Golden Guard, Aziraphale, Sheldon J Plankton, Doctor Nefarious, Tenth Doctor, Shang Tsung, Dr Flug, Perry the Platypus, Midoriya Izuku

Suspects the lie but rolls with it: Ian Malcolm, Louie Duck, Anthony J. Crowley, Nick Wilde, Nagito Komaeda, Captain Jack Sparrow, Lightning McQueen, Ratchet, Kaa, Bugs Bunny, Mike Wazowski, Johnny Loughran, Klaus Hargreeves, Sans Undertale, Arataka Reigen, Tyrion Lannister, Legoshi, Rouge the Bat, Wallace Wells, Kendall Roy, Connor Roy, Finnick Odair

Races over to introduce themselves: Toga Himiko, SpongeBob SquarePants, Dewey Duck, Judy Hopps, Kokichi Ouma, Beetlejuice, Celia Mae, Gaston, Mavis Dracula, Undyne, Beast Boy, Deadpool, Alvin Seville, Phil Dunphy

Believes you: Pinkie Pie, Bluey & Bingo, Jataro Kemuri, Chick Hicks, Caligosto Loboto, GIR, Daffy Duck, Bill & Ted, Olaf, Shigeo Kageyama, Starfire, Scott Pilgrim, Ken, Castiel

Laughs at your thin deceptions: Emperor Belos, Bill Cipher, Black Hat, Scar, Shere Khan, Tai Lung, Lord Shen, Pagan Min, Invader ZiM, Shao Kahn, Eleventh Doctor, Rainbow Dash, Shenzi, Randall Boggs, Duncan Pepperidge Anderson, Agent Smith, Doctor Eggman, Han Solo, Alastor, Izaya Orihara, Gideon Graves, Roman Roy, Shiv Roy, Gristol Malik

Alternative interpretation is equally funny — the yandere is pointing out random groups of people and slowly narrowing down their choices.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Featuring: Yandere Dust sans x reader

Trigger warnings: Amputation threats, yandere behavior, Stockholm syndrome.

Masterlist

Where are you.

It was all that occupied Dust's mind, he looked everywhere in the house, you were gone. Oh no. No no no no no no no. This can't be happening. He took so long to gain your oh so precious trust, and now you've fled away from his grasp. The first day he let you walk freely by the house while he was out and you run away? He's never going to let you out of chains ever again when he finds you! He's going to rip one of your members, maybe one of your legs maybe one of your arms, it didn't matter.

A creek is heard coming from the front door, he turns his head, his eyes widen at the sign of your figure holding a bag of groceries.

"Dust? Dear are you okay?

The skeleton quickly gets up and wraps his arms around you tightly, burying his skull on the crock of your neck, rubbing his nose while inhaling deeply your scent.

"Oh carinõ... Where were you...?"

"I wanted chocolate so I went to the store to buy it!"

He feels your hand pet his skull over his hoodie, Dust calms down, slowly letting go of you, staring into your eyes.

"I'm so glad you're okay carinõ.. please never do something like this without telling me again.."

Dust knew, the stockholm syndrome had finally kicked in... You could've run, you couldn't flee, yet you came back. You may have just wasted the only opportunity you had to got to get away.

[darkpetal16]

Play as a CUSTOMIZABLE scientist who catches the deranged attention of a siren while visiting an Arctic research base. 

Game includes:

Play as a smart scientist who makes really dumb decisions. 

Play as a smart scientist who makes excellent decisions that lead to self-preservation. 

Get adopted by a misanthropist socially awkward Dadster

Be stalked wooed by a delusional siren

Be kidnapped

Drive a snowjet! 

Race a friendly companion.  

Binge watch a series without realizing how much time has passed you by. 

Be drowned

Enjoy your stay at a five-star arctic research base that has zero casualties so far. 

Why do you keep finding bodies—

This is a 15+ romance/horror with an obsessive love interest. Please read the complete warnings list inside the game if sensitive or easily triggered. 

This game has one complete route to a "good" ending, and 9 "bad" endings with plans to add additional routes / bonuses. Siren!Sans belongs to @llamagoddessofficial on tumblr/ao3. AU was used with permission, although adjusted for funsies. (:

[mint-8]

Undertale - Platonic Yandere Toriel

Toriel has had a rough life. It started sweet, at least. Married the love of her life and becoming the ruler of the Underground alongside Asgore, and had her first born, Asriel. Only for a couple years later to have met her second child, the fallen human, Chara. Life in the Underground was good, working alongside her husband to keep monsterkind happy and hopeful. It was tough work, but seeing the smiles of her people made it all worthy for her. And yet, it was all taken away from her claws when Chara fell sick. Asriel, devastated by such an event, absorbed Chara’s soul and left the underground. Only to end up dead from his injuries from the human village, Chara’s village.

Toriel, overtaken by grief, left Asgore the moment he installed the new law for the Underground. For all humans to be killed and their souls to be used as the keys necessary to break the magical barrier and free monsterkind.

Toriel lived a calm yet solitary life in the Ruins. Even though she had the company of fellow monsters who stayed behind with her, plus the fun jokes for the unknown voice from outside the Ruins, she was still consumed by the loneliness and isolation. Eventually you run out of conversation topics with those around you, reading the same books over and over again becomes tiring and even the funny banter between her anonymous friend has become stale.

And yet, one day, a new human fell down Mt. Ebott. And another, and another, and another. Every child that fell was protected and taking care of by her, with all the love and warmth she once gave to Asriel, Chara and her subjects. But despite all her efforts, all of them left. They left the ruins, her home. They left her. Until a new human fell down.

- Yandere Toriel whose original intention was to protect you and teach you the ways of the Underground, just like any other human child that has fallen before. Yet, you seemed a bit different.

- You, who was so patient and sweet to Toriel. You would always listen to everything she said and would share her interests in reading, cooking, snails and jokes! Accompanying her in these activities and eating her special pie recipe!

- You, who brought a new light to the fellow monsters in the Ruins, running around and playing games with the Froggits, having conversations with the rocks, comforting and making the Whimsums smile, bantering with the Looxs, having picnics with the Vegetoids, hanging out with the Migosp (and giving their personal space when they needed), waiting for the Mice to exit their home, listening to music and spending time with Napstablook, conversing with the Dummy (although they stay silent) and with the spiders from the Bake Sale (plus buying some sweets from them, as well)!

- Yandere Toriel who realizes that she can’t let you go. You are the reason why the ruins are so lively! She, alongside the other monsters, haven’t felt this happy in so long! Thus, one night, when you are resting in your bedroom, Toriel and the other residents of the Ruins have a chat and reach a conclusion. All the other monsters agree with her, she must destroy the entrance so you’ll stay forever.

- Yandere Toriel who convinces you to stay the entire day outside of Home and hang out with the other monsters! All of them have tons of things to do today, won’t you play with them? Ruins’s monsters who insist on you staying outside Home, and not to worry about whatever Toriel is occupied with!

- Sweet, adorable you that doesn’t realize what’s happening until a huge explosion is heard deeper within the Ruins, near Home! Silly human child who runs towards Home to make sure Toriel is safe and sound, and that no other monsters got hurt in the process! Little you who finds Toriel deep in the basement, with the once pristine door that lead to the outside, completely destroyed with rocks covering the entrance.

- Yandere Toriel who finally looks at you after giving you her back. She is smiling, a grin so wide it makes you shiver. She gets close to you, and even though you have the instinct to back away, you let her hug you tightly. After a few moments of silence, she finally whispers “Now we will be together forever, my child. Mommy and the others will look after you, no need to be afraid”

- Yandere Toriel who will host a party at Home where everyone is invited, to commemorate such a happy occasion! Their human will stay with them forever, they’ll bring them happiness for years to come!

[saikowatermelons]

Bad Sanses x Human! Y/N Plot idea (Yandere edition)

I've had this plot idea in my head for a while now, I just never really shared it ^^

Y/N - Gender unspecified. Y/N is considered to be the kindest in the group for reference. Y/N will not get with Nightmare.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

What if Nightmare had an entire inquiry looking for a new member for the gang. He went on and tried searching for a worthy candidate and found you. Interested, he took you in (via kidnapping) The job he offered is unspecified but can be secretary work.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

Dust x Y/N

- At first, he couldn't care much about you, always taunting you for personal gain. He's manic, and it's what drove you away from him at first.

- Other than being insane, he seems to be sadistic, and is obsessed with getting you hurt due to the fact you're human and you remind him of the human who committed genocide on his race.

- His episodes are common and they become more frequent the more he becomes obsessed with killing you. He, at the same time seems obsessed with making you his.

- Sometimes you'd get concerned whenever you're near him and he starts referencing his dead brother, talking nonsense to himself and laughing.

Horror x Y/N

- Compared to the others, he seems to still have a sense of mind. (Sort of) When you first meet him, he's pretty much rude to you, often cracking jokes about how you joined the team (via kidnapping) and pretty much threatening you from time to time just to see you scared.

- He likes to manipulate you into getting into situations to make you hurt. One of his favorite things about you would be your screams.

- Though, there would be times when he would show a hint of his old self before brushing it away.

- When he's hungry, sometimes he'd try to find a way to kill and consume you before you snap him back to reality and he continues his hunger streak.

- When he finally becomes obsessed with you, it's for the wrong reasons only. Mainly for the fact he can bend you to his own will. He hates that others can hurt you and wants to hurt you only. He also obsessed over you due to the fact that you somehow try to help the others. That glimmer of hope even in such a dark place makes him think that you aren't bad person. But it's best, in his opinion, to push you away even if he has been so obsessed with you.

- He also obsessed over the fact you're a human and tht you can bleed. Sometimes he would want to have that blood for himself, but alas, his self control is too strong to even consume you alive even when he's hungry.

Killer x Y/N

- Like the others, a pretty much unstable individual. He can be unpredictable to you but was tolerable during the first time you met him.

- He would find strategies and ways to taunt you, but other than that, he doesn't seem that much violent unless during one of his episodes.

- It's hard for you to keep up with his constant mood swings, but slowly over time once he fell for you, he tries to adjust himself.

- He hates the fact that most people would compare him to the others or belittle his existence. When he became obsessed with you, he only wanted your attention and no one else's.

- He loves the fact that you treat him like he's his own person and not another "Sans AU". Slowly, the more gets attached to you and the more he wants the other members of his gang to really get away from you.

- Over the time he's obsessed, he wanted Nightmare to quit bugging him since all he wants is you.

- His whole loyalty over Nightmare being the one who fixes his soul starts to shift into you. He starts treating you as if you're a higher being, praising and finding himself having episodes over the thought of not having you.

Cross x Y/N

- The first time you met him, he was reserved and distant. He didn't interact much with you and if he did, it'd be about your work only.

- Over time once you got to know him better, you notice how he acts and how he gets frustrated over little things. He also loves to call you out on your bullshit and often times is arrogant to what you're feeling. He only does what he wants.

- Though, the more you got closer, the more you saw him beneath his exterior. Beneath everything, you saw some fractures of his old self that was still there, yearning for his old home.

- So, when he became obsessed with you, he saw you as his new home. He acted more like himself and at the same time, slowly attached himself to you because of it. He wanted you to know that he's yours.

- He forgot all about his past when he's with you and during missions, he'd slaughter everyone without letting the others help him as the only thought in his head would be you.

- He would hate it when you'd interact with the others, sometimes he'd use excuses on them just to be with you only and in his honest opinion, he never really liked them anyway.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

I guess that's all! I just based the whole thing over research and some headcanons. I apologize if it isn't true to the original characters, though I tried my best to stray away from fanon versions of these characters 😢

[cloudyskydreams]

Howdy!

Thank you for answering my last ask! (It was literally everything I wanted and then some!!!!)

How would the Yandere boys be with a willing darling that knows she’s being manipulated but lets them get away with it cause they’re cute/doesn’t really care?

(You can choose any Skelly for this one; all I need is Papyrus)

Thank you and have a lovely day/night!

Hi again ::3 glad you enjoyed your last ask hehe

I have sooooo many drafts im trying to get through and finish my motivation is escaping me rn it's like writing is sucking away my sweet sweet dopamine instead of releasing it >::[ but!! I managed to get this bad boy done and a win is a win

Hope y'all enjoy ::3

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Undertale:

Sans:

He can vibe with this honestly. It's a little boring but he's alright with that. Is about as manipulative as he would normally be mostly just for the heck of it. Doesn't go out of his way to hide his more manipulative and yandere actions because he wants to see your reactions. He might even start a "game" to see how much he can get away with before you do get upset with him.

Papyrus:

This works out wonderfully with papyrus because he's delusional and doesn't even see himself as doing anything unethical or against your will. In his mind y'all are in a very happy committed relationship and with a darling like this it works out so well because you just go along with all his shenanigans. He loves you so so much and he's so happy you return his affections.

Underfell:

Red:

It soothes him that you don't care I mean he trys his best to hide his behaviors from you but he might slip up y'know and you having a laid back attitude about it really enables him. He'll be more aggressive towards people he deems threats more attention seeking with you always having to touch you in some way.

Edge:

Enjoys this quite a bit. It makes his whole life easier if you're willing to just follow the schedule he has set up for you. He'll praise you for your compliance and be a dutiful doting partner. Really for him it's all about having complete control and you make that easy for him!

Underswap:

Blue:

He doesn't really care either way, he's gonna do what he wants to do independent of what you want or how you feel. Appreciates you alot though for not caring when he goes off the deep end.

Stretch:

I mean it's a win in his eyes. He starts off feeling bad like he normally does over his actions but then you don't care so that means he's not really doing anything that bad right? Definetly enables him and makes his mental state worse.

Horrortale:

Axe:

This works out so nice means he doesn't have to train you as harshly. Axe is quickest to kidnap and it's basically an inevitable when he gets obsessed so you not caring makes this whole thing easier on him. Doesn't really change his harsh punishments though and he's still not above hurting you.

Willow:

Willows the least harmful yandere and honestly kinda just a little freak. Gomez Adams type devotion to you. He is unlike papyrus partially self aware and knows what he does is weird so having a partner who doesn't care over his obsessive tendencies is really soothing to him. He's more open about it and more clingy definetly using your willingness to do what he wants as much as he can.

[yanderes-galore]

6/8

We're at 2/3s.

Grillby with a very shy darling (Undertale) (Romantic)

I mean... I can try. There isn't much about him so it may be short if that's okay :(?

Yandere! Grillby with Shy! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Slight stalking (He likes to watch you), Murder mentioned, Dubious relationship.

Grillby is... really hard to read.

Even towards those he's fond of he's usually quite quiet.

Although... I do imagine he reads people well.

When it comes to Grillby, I imagine he likes an obsession who's a regular to Grillby's.

He's rarely seen outside of Grillby's... it would only make sense if his obsession was often around.

Maybe you live in Snowdin, or somewhere else, either way you always find yourself at Grillby's.

You like the food there... but you never seem to talk to anyone.

Grillby, someone who's not so talkative himself, picks up on your quiet behavior.

You often pick a spot where there's not many people or a corner of the bar table.

I imagine your bond is mostly just... quiet.

You silently feel comfort in each other's company whenever you come by.

You may come around often because Grillby respects your desire to be left alone.

Grillby can tell you're shy based on how you act.

Even when you don't think he's looking, he observes your reaction to others.

He can see how you shy away from other patrons, looking flustered as you try to enjoy your food.

Grillby is definitely someone who quietly watches his obsession in Grillby's, picking up on little reactions and remembering them.

Grillby is attentive to your shy behavior, often offering you a seat close to him at the bar table.

You're kept out of the way and often served your favorite meal on the menu.

Grillby watches over you, maybe even brushing away nosey patrons who want to talk to you.

In a way he's actually... really protective of you and your reserved nature.

He doesn't force you to speak.

In fact, as said before, he's fond of the silence you share.

He's fond of you... even if he won't come out and say it.

His "yandere behavior" is very subtle.

You would have no idea of his bad decisions and desires due to how reserved he is.

The more you come to Grillby's, the more Grillby realizes he loves you.

He never really acts on it.

In fact, he's completely happy with staying subtle.

He likes heating drinks for you, he likes providing you food...

To him it feels like he's caring for you.

He's just providing food, drink, and warmth with his flames... but he enjoys the way he makes you smile.

In terms of darker behavior?

Well, in his eyes (?) he's just protecting you from unwanted attention.

As bars/pubs are, imagine if someone was too pushy with you.

You feel trapped by the wall and the bar table, scared.

Grillby is quick to step in, flames flickering a bit brighter as he orders them out.

To you, that's all that happened.

To Grillby? Well... he made sure they can't bother you or anyone anymore.

I mean, really, who would suspect Grillby of such a thing?

Cleaning his clothes is easy, if there is any dust... he incinerates it.

You just think said patron was banned, in a way they were.

Grillby acts like nothing happened, he's silent anyways so the act isn't hard.

Plus, when that patron is gone, you go back to softly smiling.

Such a sight makes his flames burn a bit brighter.

Your bond together is definitely... quiet and relaxed.

You only really see one another at Grillby's.

But maybe... eventually... Grillby will approach you outside of the building.

Grillby is definitely someone who'd seem normal to his obsession.

You're both quiet, it's actually almost a perfect match due to your nature.

You may even date him, completely unaware of any crime he's done.

Murder? Stalking? You have no clue.

Which means abduction or forced isolation doesn't need to happen since you're so willing.

Ironically he's really chill in his behavior, only wanting to protect you from any unwanted scenarios.

As far as you know he's just your favorite bartender... or perhaps even boyfriend...

You'd never suspect a thing.

Allowing Grillby to confidently take you for himself, with no one to tell him otherwise.

[alex-rambles]

What would yan sans do if he caught reader during a escape attempt?

GOT ONESHOT INSPIRATION SORRY

Finally. Finally, finally, finally.

You planned it out with meticulous detail. Sans is off, making sure the human doesn't make any "mistakes." Papyrus is at a cooking lesson. No one will know you left.

Perhaps you loved Sans, at one point. But for some reason, he one day decided that you needed protected from some kind of danger. What that danger was, you don't know (although you suspect it may have to do with the human he's always watching), but Sans' way of getting rid of the threat was to take you to his house and refuse to let you leave.

That broke any love you ever had for him. Sure, you could see your friends. Family. But it sucks being stuck in the same house. It sucks having so little freedom.

You fling the door open, backpack on, ready to go, for the wind on your face, but-

"Whatcha doin'?"

No, he wasn't supposed to be back yet!

"Sans-"

"Y/N. Can you answer me? Please?"

You choose to be honest. "Leaving. I hate you. You're ruining my life."

Sans gives a dry chuckle. "Yeah? Babe, you can hate me all you'd like. Fact is, a ruined life is much better than not having one."

"I disagree. Move."

"Nope."

The perpetual grin on his face remains (ah, skeleton anatomy. Even though he's not even anatomically correct anyway). "What would I do with myself if I let that kid kill ya?"

Sans' body and voice are tense, contrary to his face.

"What about Papyrus, then?" you spit.

His eyebrows (bonebrows? what?) scrunch into his eyesockets in thought. "I uh, didn't think about him, honestly… I already saw him die once, maybe I oughtta- whatever. Beside the point. You can't leave. Not til that kid is gone."

You shake your head angrily. That's not fair. You have a whole life to live. This house's scenery is getting old, and you went out

You slam a fist forward. He slides out of the way with ease.

"Hey, trying to kill me? I'm not too high in the defense department!"

You run through the space Sans once blocked.

"Huh. Welp, that's fair, I suppose," he says.

Getting him to move, then pushing past him.

You can feel the wind as you run, it's nice. The closest you've had to wind for a while now is a fan in the house.

Until several bones block your path.

"Now, obviously these old things aren't too strong," he says, walking over. "I'm weak. By extension, my attacks are as well."

You touch one. It hurts a bit, but that's about all. It's solid.

Oh. He's just trapping you where you are.

Sans extends a hand.

"Let's go home, hm?"

[fangdokja-anon]

Hahaha! 🤣 your reaction to dottore aka the doctor and your about me posts makes me think you are not just online simp but also a hardcore masochist irl. By the way how did you get invested in yandere content? Like what was your first or most memorable encounter with it?

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams. ; ♡ WC. 1,996 (contains video game spoilers)

Ah, so we’re calling me out this early? On my side blog no less? Bold move, Anon.

Let’s get a few things straight: I am not an online simp. If I were, you’d see me in the trenches of fandom spaces, writing dissertations on characters, engaging in debates, and swooning over every little thing they do. I don’t do that. I don’t simp.

I compare.

Because at the end of the day, I’m not fawning over fictional men—I’m simply coping. My husband won’t let me talk about him, so I settle for characters that remind me of him. That’s not simping, that’s making do with the resources available. And if certain fictional men share the same energy, demeanor, or sheer presence as my husband? Then naturally, I gravitate toward them. Not because I worship them, but because they remind me of him.

Now, onto the masochism comment. Do you think I write horror purely for the fear factor? For the thrill of it? Because if so, you’re mistaken. I write horror because it’s an intimate genre—it forces confrontation with the things most would rather avoid. It dissects, exposes, and breaks apart. It’s a genre of control and loss of control. And if I happen to enjoy that process, if I find something oddly compelling about the brutality of it all—

That being said, there is a line. There are characters that cross it. Dottore? Manageable. Gilgamesh? Handleable. But some characters? Some of them make me feel too much. And I don’t like feeling too much. I’d rather shoot them on sight than deal with the psychological damage they would inevitably cause. Not because they’re bad characters, but because their existence is disruptive.

Dottore, though? That man could dissect me, break me down to my component parts, run inhumane experiments on me, and I would thank him. He could reduce me to nothing, and I’d accept it. There’s no logic behind it, no deeper reasoning—just the simple, unavoidable truth:

Some people you kill on sight.

Others, you let ruin you.

Dottore falls into the latter category.

Now, STORY TIME (fangdokja lore).

Would you believe me if I said I hated yanderes before? And I don’t mean casual dislike—I mean full-on disgust. I found them creepy, mentally unstable, and fundamentally stupid. The idea that someone could revolve their entire existence around another person? That they could need someone so desperately that their sense of self dissolved into obsession? That was pathetic. It was unhealthy, it was irrational, and it was a complete rejection of self-sufficiency.

That was me as a kid.

Back then, I believed in fairy tales. I genuinely thought love was about mutual growth—about two people supporting each other in their careers, their personal lives, and their families. About building something together, side by side. The idea of romance being anything else—something consuming, something destructive, something one-sided—was outright repulsive to me.

Then I saw clips of Yuno Gasai. Instant NOPE.

Fast forward to my teenage years, aka the black-clothes-all-day, goth-adjacent-but-mostly-emo, people-are-annoying-so-I’ll-just-watch-horror era. Relationships were still stupid to me. The concept of needing someone for emotional validation? Idiotic. The idea of depending on someone for your reason to exist? Even worse. It all seemed pointless.

Then came horror.

I was already neck-deep in the genre by this point because, well, I hated everything and everyone. Horror was an easy escape—something darker, something honest. And naturally, when you spend enough time in horror, you will encounter yanderes. It’s inevitable.

Enter the golden age of Wattpad—the no monetization, anything-goes, unfiltered chaos era. I was already secretly reading fanfics at this point (because, for some reason, that was the one thing I was embarrassed about). I mostly read fluff—anything smut-adjacent was straight-up disgusting to me. I didn’t get it. At all.

Which makes sense.

Because at that point in my life, I had zero knowledge about sex. Like, I knew the technicalities—I knew the reproductive system, I understood the biological mechanics—but that was it. No porn, no hentai, no exposure to anything explicitly sexual. To me, "sex" meant literally sleeping next to someone. That’s what I was taught. And I never questioned it because I didn’t care. School was my priority—study, work, repeat. Learn, apply, profit. Simple.

Then I came across the term yandere.

I didn’t know what it meant. And when I read my first yandere fic? I was disgusted. Completely put off. It was one of those low-quality Wattpad dumpster fire stories, so that didn’t help, but the concept itself? The obsession? The violence? The sheer lack of logic? I hated it.

And yet, somehow, that wasn’t the end of the story.

✦✧✦✧

Fast forward a year.

At this point, I’d been playing video games my entire life, so naturally, I eventually stumbled into visual novels. And from there, it was only a matter of time before I ran into otome games.

And one of the most well-known otome games—one of the classics, the game that served as many people's introduction to yanderes—

—was Amnesia: Memories.

Guess whose route I hated the most?

Toma.

I was a Shin and Kent kind of player. Shin especially—he had the right balance of edge and depth (along with plot) that made him actually interesting. Even Ikki had his charm. They all had their faults, but at the end of the day, their routes were wholesome in comparison.

Also, Orion? Loved him.

Ukyo? Insane, sure, but he still had a genuinely good side. He made sense within the narrative, and at the very least, there was an internal logic to him.

But Toma?

Toma made me angry.

The moment he caged me, I was done. The moment he started spewing nonsense about trusting him while literally locking me up, I was sitting there, completely baffled, wondering:

"I thought this was a romance story—WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"

At the time, I didn’t even know what a yandere was. All I knew was that whatever archetype Toma was supposed to be? I hated it.

I hated him.

I hated all of them.

He was a creepy, possessive piece of garbage that I would not go near with a ten-foot pole. My entire reaction boiled down to one word:

CREEP.

And yet—do you see the irony in all of this?

I never got into yanderes romantically. Not back then. Not even close. It was impossible for me to feel anything for them. But fanfic-wise? I still found myself reading yandere content occasionally. Not because I was interested in the romance—but because of the horror.

Even then, I refused to engage with yanderes as a romantic concept, but as a horror concept? That was different. That was something I could respect. And admittedly? Even back then, there was one thing about yanderes that I could appreciate—loyalty.

No cheating. No exes they still care about. No third parties they’d even consider entertaining. A real yandere’s world revolves only around his darling. And that? That was at least logically sound. Even at my most yandere-averse, I could respect that much.

✦✧✦✧

But.

There was one character. One single character who changed everything. And to this day, I hate him for it.

I was minding my own business, peacefully gaming, completely unprepared for the irreversible shift about to occur in my perception of yanderes. And the man responsible?

Yuuya Kizami from Corpse Party.

…Which, in hindsight, says a lot about me. But let’s not unpack that right now.

At first glance, I liked him. Appearance-wise, attitude-wise, he seemed like a solid character. A bit of a loner, sure, a little blunt, maybe a little rough around the edges—but a reliable older brother figure. A nice guy, even.

And I was so, so wrong.

The moment his real nature was revealed—his yandere nature—I felt pure, visceral disgust. Immediate, instinctive NOPE. He went from a character I liked to a character that made my skin crawl.

…And yet.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny, traitorous thought formed:

"Wait… am I into this?"

And then:

"…Shiz. This is so unhealthy."

The cognitive dissonance was real. I was horrified, repulsed—and yet, somewhere in all that, something had shifted. I refused to acknowledge it, though. When he died, I cheered. I thought, “See? No problem. I didn’t like him. No big deal. Moving on.”

But I did not move on.

Because without realizing it, I started seeking out more yandere content. Not actively at first. Just… reading one more fic here. Clicking on one more story there. It wasn’t that deep. Just casual curiosity.

Right?

…Right.

✦✧✦✧

Fast forward a few years. The emo phase faded (mostly). I was still goth-adjacent, but I wasn’t walking around exuding pure, unfiltered misanthropy anymore. Just a chill, hyperfocused workaholic with a hardcore "study, grind, succeed" mentality.

Then came the Undertale phase.

Yes. I am admitting it. I was one of those people. Part of the squad that made Toby Fox publicly say, “Some of you concern me.”

And you know what? I do not care.

Because the Undertale fanfics? They were insane. Not just insane—they were PEAK. Some of the most unhinged, soul-crushing, haunting stories I’ve ever read came from that fandom. To this day, my favorite one-shot fanfic of all time—of all time—is an Undertale fanfic.

And guess what?

It’s a yandere fic.

A yandere Sans fic, to be exact.

Yes, I am recommending this fic. No, I do not care if it raises concerns. This author wrote two stories total, and yet that one fic was so peak that it permanently burned itself into my memory. (Also, very Dust Sans-coded, which explains a lot.)

Now, I should clarify—before my husband, I never cared about physical appearances. Ever. What mattered to me was lore. Depth. The immaculate storytelling. That’s what made a character interesting. That’s what made me invested.

So who did I end up simping for?

…Ah.

First, it was Sans. And then—then the rabbit hole opened.

Cue my descent into Horror Sans and Dust Sans territory.

And let me tell you something: Horror Sans fanfics were a whole other breed.

Unrequited love? Check.

Soulmate AU with horror elements? Check.

Absolute emotional devastation? Check, check, and check.

And Dust Sans? Oh, Dust Sans was a different level of unhinged. Extremely mentally unstable. Psychopathic. A relentless killing machine consumed by his own broken psyche.

…And looking back at it now?

Yeah. That really should’ve told me something about my tastes.

I cry.

✦✧✦✧

Now that I really sit down and think about it...

Have I always been attracted to killers?

Because looking at my favorite horror tropes—the ones I actively enjoy writing—the pattern is very clear.

And yet, I never went through the typical killer-simp pipeline.

I never got into Creepypasta. Never had a FNAF phase. Sure, I know the lore (because obviously, who doesn’t at this point?), but the gameplay never interested me. And as for the mainstream horror icons—the ones everyone else was thirsting over? They didn’t do it for me.

But despite all that, somehow, I still ended up here.

And I never noticed.

Looking back now? It’s kind of hilarious.

It started small. A little intrigue here. A fascination there. Then came the red flags. And before I knew it, we were way past the point of concern.

We had gone full BLACK FLAG territory.

Blacker than pirate flags. Blacker than void itself.

The mental shift went from:

"Oh, he’s a little intense."

To:

"Okay, this guy’s got issues, but he’s interesting."

To:

"Aww, he wants to torture and murder me? That’s so sweet."

And that’s when I knew. There was no coming back.

But if you want to know the number one contributor to everything—every single twist, every turn, every single factor that solidified my fate—

It’s my husband.

And I am not opening that can of worms.

Ever.

All you need to know is that I have been cursed and corrupted by that cunning, possessive, terrifyingly loving man.

I love him.

Truly.

That’s all you need to know.

[ellagasm]

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