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♡ I am 18+ ♡ dark and yandere content ♡ I do not condone/promote or encourage any unhealthy and/or abusive behavior IRL ♡ my blog is for entertainment purposes only ♡
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♡ masterlist ♡
DC
The Bat and Mr. Wayne | Shapeshifter (Yandere!Bruce Wayne x Reader x Batman)
The Bat and Mr. Wayne | The Devil wears Armani (Yandere!Bruce Wayne x Reader x Batman)
Play With Fire (Hitman!Reader x Batman)
Captivated (Yandere!Red Hood x Reader)
Dr. Stone
The Darwinist VS The Hedonist (ft. F!Reader)
Genshin Impact
Golden Hour (Alhaitham x Reader)
[Idol!AU] Love You Like a Love Song | (Yandere!Childe x Reader)
Curiosity Killed The Cat (Yandere!Reader x Alhaitham)
Jujutsu Kaisen
Fluffy headcanons | Lazy mornings with Nanami Kento
Manchild (Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader)
Yandere Types: Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna
League Of Legends
Magnum Opus (Yandere!Jhin x Reader)
Record Of Ragnarok
A God's Plaything (Poseidon x F!Reader)
Misc
Dearly beloved (Love Letter from Anonymous Yandere)
Heresy (Yandere!Knight x Reader)
The Wolf (Werewolf x Reader)
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The following works contain contents that are inappropriate for persons under 18 years of age, like graphic depictions of violence and death, and explicit sexual content. Individual warnings at the start of each fic.
important reminder that most people you follow online are significantly lamer than you think they are including me. and if you feel insecure comparing yourself to someone online: DON'T. theyre probably also lame and weird. most people on the internet are
So I just thought I would do this quickly because I realise that for my long posts I’m going to be talking about Yandere types.
Clingy:
This Yandere type is too emotionally dependent on their Darling. They’re emotionally fragile; requiring constant attention and support. They’re the type to constantly phone and text their Darling, and they can feel overwhelmed if the subject of their clinginess isn’t around. They work to insert themselves into their beloved’s personal life and become very angry when their Darling is not available to them. Their smothering is draining.
Obsessive:
This Yandere type is fixated; their Darling is the only thing on their mind, and it’s taking over. The obsessive Yandere is a prisoner to their own thoughts. Their obsession leads to poor eating, sleeping habits and withdrawal from society. They’re the type to spend so much time fantasising about the relationship they could have and how it might evolve: that first meeting, a rescue scenario, being the one person their Darling trusts with their most intimate secrets, an instant bond and connection, sexual fantasies, etc. This is typically the type stalkers fall into.
Possessive:
This Yandere type needs to own and dominate their Darling. They become aggressive if their ownership is threatened and grow angry if their Darling makes independent decisions. They want the Darling utterly dependent on them and they will remove all of their safety nets to do so: friends and family members who support them, financial assets and savings, much-needed resources, etc.
Manipulative:
This Yandere type will exercise unscrupulous control and influence over their Darling. This is the type of Yandere were their relationship with their Darling will appear normal. If their Darling is already in a relationship, they will use a position of trust to create wedges between in that relationship. And once they are together, the Yandere will do everything to stop them from leaving, from encouraging co-dependence to using their Darling’s secrets and weaknesses against them
Overprotective:
This Yandere type is inclined to safeguard, shield, or carefully supervise their Darling to an obsessive degree. They never leave their Darling alone, and they don’t know how to balance their concern with respect for their Darling’s independence and freedom. They believe they’re acting in their beloved’s best interest, but they come across as overbearing, bossy, or controlling.
Sadistic:
This Yandere type will intentionally cause suffering by bringing about emotional or physical harm to their Darling and will derive pleasure from doing so. They’re the type to spreading rumours and lies about their Darling to isolate them. Or let their Darling escape only to dash their hopes by re-capturing them. They’re fascinated with the physical, mental, and emotional limitations of their Darling and how to reach them. They just want to watch their beloved squirm under their control.
Delusional:
This Yandere type holds the belief or impressions that their Darling already loves them, which is typically contradicted by reality. They take their Darling’s actions the wrong way; if they do something out of kindness, the Yandere will think it’s out of love. If their Darling says they don’t love the Yandere, they’ll think it’s all lies, or they’re Darling is just shy. Their love distorts the reality they perceive.
Self-indulgent:
This Yandere type wants to be worship by their Darling. They’re selfish, satisfying their own desires and whims without restraint. They act according to what they want rather than thinking of what’s best for themselves or others. They want their Darling to pamper them and often express impatience when gratification is delayed. They have a “me first” attitude and become disgruntled when having to do something that isn’t on their agenda.
Impulsive:
This Yandere type acts on desires, whims, or inclination without forethought, which makes them one of the more dangerous ones. They act in response to their emotions and don’t always think about how their actions can affect others. They are also prone to erratic mood changes, overreacting, outbursts, kidnapping, murder and the list goes on. A positive side would be their transparency; they tend not to think before thinking, so they tend to be honest.
(I can’t help but find this type kinda funny because they become legitimately shocked when faced with an undesirable result. Like, their Darling is scared because they been kidnapped and the Yandere is surprised Pikachu face.)
So I suggest we make a pact, since we're both in it for the long haul: whoever dies first, the other one can come and bring flowers to their grave. How's that?
Husband!Xiao who never understood why people made such a fuss over acts of service. If something eased your burden, why wouldn't he do it? It was only after Verr Goldet teasingly called him "domestic" that he realized not everyone instinctively reached for their spouse the way he did.
Husband!Xiao who, without fail, gently lifts your feet into his lap every time the two of you sit down together. Whether it's after a long walk through Liyue Harbor or a quiet evening at Wangshu Inn, his fingers automatically begin working the soreness from your arches.
Husband!Xiao who quietly replaces your worn-out shoes before you even realize how bad they've gotten. He claims the old pair was becoming "impractical," but the new ones are somehow the exact style and color you always reach for.
Husband!Xiao who notices when you've skipped a meal long before you admit it. He'll disappear for a few minutes and return with almond tofu or your favorite dish, setting it in front of you with a simple, "Eat."
Husband!Xiao who has memorized every little sign that you're tired. The way your shoulders sag. The way you rub at your eyes. The quieter tone in your voice. By then, he's already suggesting you head home.
Husband!Xiao who always walks on the side closest to the road or the edge of a cliff without ever thinking about it. To him, it's instinct.
Husband!Xiao who pretends he doesn't understand why you're smiling at him while he fixes your scarf. "The wind is stronger today," he'll say, as though that explains why he's carefully tucking every loose end into place.
Husband!Xiao who learned to braid hair purely because yours kept getting tangled during long trips. He insisted it was inefficient to leave it loose. He's surprisingly good at it.
Husband!Xiao who cannot sleep deeply unless he knows you're safe. He spent centuries remaining alert for danger, and old habits die hard. Even now, he unconsciously reaches out during the night just to confirm you're beside him before relaxing again.
Husband!Xiao who silently takes the heavier bags every single time. If you try to argue, they're already gone from your hands before you've finished your sentence.
Husband!Xiao who has no concept of spoiling someone. He simply notices that your tea has gone cold, so he reheats it. He notices you've been reading for hours, so he leaves a snack nearby. He notices you've been moving all day, so you're getting a massage before you can protest.
Husband!Xiao who never interrupts when you're talking, even if he doesn't have much to add. He'll sit in complete silence, listening to every story from your day as though it's the only thing worth his attention.
Husband!Xiao who starts keeping little things on his person because you've needed them before: a handkerchief, a hair tie, medicine, a spare pair of gloves when winter arrives.
Husband!Xiao who doesn't know how to apologize with flowery words. His apology comes in the form of a hesitant, "I was unfair to you." To anyone else, it sounds simple. To you howver, it's one of the hardest sentences he's ever learned to say.
Husband!Xiao who still answers your call immediately, no matter how many years you've been married. The moment he hears his name, he's there. Some habits, after all, are forever.
Gojo is outwardly confident and charismatic, but behind his laid-back attitude lies a possessiveness born from the absolute isolation of his power, which cuts him off from the rest of humanity and forces him to cling desperately to you. On top of his hidden emotional scars, he struggles deeply with jealousy – becoming emotionally fragile and draining if you refuse to give him constant attention. The transition from playful arrogance to a desperate, suffocating need for attention is seamless and deeply unnerving. In his eyes, you belong to him alone.
Yandere Gojo is excessively needy and wants to be with you at all times. He will use emotional manipulation to make you feel obligated to spend time with him, often guilt-tripping you for talking to others or spending time with others, becoming visibly agitated and aggressive if his ownership is threatened. If his advances continue to be rebuffed, his playful arrogance turns into physical and emotional abuse, resorting to threats and intimidation to maintain absolute control.
His love language is physical touch, and he will constantly touch, hold, and embrace you to ground himself, rapidly becoming forceful if you attempt to pull away or refuse to comply.
He has an anxious attachment style; he handles his deep fear of abandonment by trying to insert himself into every single facet of your personal life, completely collapsing if he cannot monopolize your time.
"I'm told these jealous feelings are wrong. But how can wanting you to myself be that bad?"
Nanami Kento is a Possessive/Manipulative Yandere
Nanami may seem rational, reserved, and highly professional on the outside, but underneath lies a dark, deeply manipulative side. His strict adherence to rules and desire to protect the vulnerable are completely inverted here, turning into an inescapable system of coercive control. He is highly calculated and intelligent, stripping away your autonomy systematically under the guise of “protection”.
Yandere Nanami enjoys being in complete control and wants you utterly dependent on him. To accomplish this, he will ruthlessly eliminate your safety nets, stripping away your friends, family members, and social resources. He enjoys making every single decision for you, completely bars any independent choice, does not tolerate disobedience or defiance, and is quick to enforce corporal punishments the moment you step out of line.
His love language is acts of service. He genuinely thinks his complete psychological lockdown of your life is necessary, and his acts of routine and care are in your best interests, leaving you with no outside support system.
He has a dismissive-avoidant attachment style; he protects himself from the instability of love by imposing a rigid, flawless structure that leaves no room for your independence.
"I'm not discussing this with you. I'm telling you. You need safety more than space. I don't want something to happen to you."
Ryomen Sukuna is an Impulsive/Sadistic Yandere
Sukuna is a fundamentally dangerous, sadistic monster; he loves death and bloodshed after all, deriving pleasure from inflicting pain and suffering on others. His intense obsession with you does not stem from genuine love, warmth, or romantic attachment. Instead, he takes sick pleasure from bringing about your emotional and physical suffering. He is fascinated by your physical and mental limitations, intentionally putting you through terrifying psychological and physical abuse simply to watch you squirm and break under his control.
Not even you are safe from his malicious nature. Sukuna preys on your emotions, using his immense power to terrorize you and intimidate you into doing his bidding. His physical and psychological abuse serves as a direct means of exerting his absolute rule over you. Because he sees you merely as a highly prized toy, he will dispose of you without a shred of hesitation or remorse the exact moment you cease to serve his needs.
His love language is quality time. His warped expression of affection demands your absolute, undivided presence before him, ensuring your entire existence is consumed by witnessing and enduring his power.
He has no attachment style; he rejects human vulnerability entirely, connecting with you solely to assert absolute, terrifying dominance over your body and mind.
"Next time you disobey me, I'll have to kill you. And the best part is, if I do, then you'll become mine forever."
[Idol!AU] Love You Like a Love Song | (Yandere!Childe x Reader)
There's no way to describe what you do to me
You just do to me what you do
And it feels like I've been rescued
I've been set free
I am hypnotized by your destiny
♡♡♡
Heavy strikes and powerful kicks rain down on the weighty punching bag, its leather already chafed from the ongoing abuse, but the young man keeps attacking the boxing equipment, still full of energy even after giving a three-hour concert with numerous encores.
Because beneath his cheerful and warm demeanor, beneath the mask of the charming idol, is a Wolf in Sheep’s clothing.
Not only is the beloved singer a celebrity who rose to stardom overnight thanks to his effortless charisma and high-energy stage presence, but he also has a body that girls go crazy over thanks to his intense Muay Thai training; the martial art which represents absolute brutality, endurance, and crushing power. He loves the extreme physical conditioning of this sport, his shins and knees dense enough to shatter solid stone slabs after years of practicing Muay Thai.
Stage name, “Childe,” was an immediate success. His entertainment company, The Fatui, knew at first glance that he possessed the perfect heartthrob appeal to captivate the hearts of young women, and they’ve worked relentlessly to create that pristine image — carefully burying Ajax’s violent, bloodthirsty impulses beneath the polished veneer of a perfect idol. Childe, in return, loves the brutal climb to the top. He thrives on crushing his rivals in the charts, dominating the industry with the exact same ruthless energy he brings to the ring. The absolute wealth and fame of being the world’s top artist were intoxicating.
Popular artists constantly beg to collaborate, established labels fight over his contract, and legendary producers vie for his favor. Even Hollywood casting directors are enamored with his youthful charisma and exquisite physique, leading to co-starring roles alongside martial arts legends like Bruce Chan and Jackie Lee. Yes, Childe has the entire world in a total chokehold.
Everyone is fighting for his attention, for a place by his side; everyone is obsessed with him, except you.
Another massive strike sends the punching bag tearing from its hinges, the iron chains snapping under the violent impact before the boxing bag lands with a dull thud in the corner of his training room.
Childe breathes heavily, spent from bludgeoning the leather for hours, but he remains restless — his skin still buzzing with a manic, jittery energy. He stares into the mirror wall, seeing the damp ginger hair sticking in every direction, his toned chest rising and falling rapidly under the fluorescent glare. His big blue eyes are wide open, his pupils constricted into sharp pins. He wants to hunt.
He grabs his jacket and leaves his penthouse, completely unbothered by the sharp sting of gym sweat and leather clinging to his skin. Within minutes, his imported sports car screeches to a halt outside the label's headquarters. His gaze wanders up the glass facade, locking onto a single illuminated window on the twelfth floor.
Your studio.
♡♡♡
“Still working hard, I see.”
You hear the smooth tenor tone with its distinctive light, upbeat cadence, instantly recognizing the owner of the youthful voice that has enchanted the whole world. Childe.
Without turning around, you ask flatly: “To what do I owe the honor of the most sought-after idol visiting me in my humble workplace?” You refuse to let the intruder distract you from your arrangement, almost annoyed by his audacity to disturb you while you are working on the lyrics of your newest song. That’s how Childe is — smug to the point of almost being arrogant. But that’s exactly what makes him so irresistible to his fans; his smugness is part of his charm, because he knows he is the hottest idol right now, because he can back up his boasts, and because he knows everyone wants a piece of him.
Childe chuckles without any joy. Again. You are doing it again — brushing him off, treating him like a common nuisance. But that dismissiveness only makes him want you more. You see the flawed person, Ajax, not just the lovable popstar, Childe. His grin widens.
“I’m here for you, of course. I won’t give up until you agree to work with me,” he cocks his head merrily, pinning you down with his beautiful eyes as he waits for your answer.
“I refuse,” you tell him flatly, meeting his unblinking gaze head-on. “The tracks you sing are generic, factory-made love songs catering to vulnerable people who fantasize about a wealthy, handsome savior. It’s completely outside my style. I like your voice. It’s playful, energetic, crisp, and clean, but the Fatui pushed you into a modern boy-band aesthetic, and you merely accepted the payout. You sell a fantasy to easily swayed hearts, but you are no lovesick fool. You are too flawless, too calculated. Like you were engineered in a lab to be the ultimate idol. It's all so… artificial.”
…
Childe is truly a man of duality, and his voice mirrors it perfectly. The melodic chuckle starts as a light, youthful timbre that slowly turns into a sharp laugh with a thrilling edge.
“You think my songs are shallow?”
You meet his empty eyes head-on. “They are. Those songs are not about your emotions, your experiences, or how you perceive the world. The label produces them to be popular among young women craving love. Those songs are not you.”
He lets out another deranged cackle. His dusky blue eyes travel down from your face, stopping abruptly at the golden feather resting around your neck — merchandise of his labelmate, ‘The Balladeer’.
“Is that why you like Scaramouche so much? You like the songs he writes and sings? You like his little angsty and edgy performances?”
Another loud, boisterous laugh escapes the ginger’s throat.
“You poor thing, liking an arrogant bastard like him…” He leans down until he is at eye-level with you, pressing forward so his nose almost touches yours, his deadened blue eyes boring directly into your skull. “Or are you into the bad boy type? Do you dream about a dangerous, broken villain choosing you above everything else? Do you think you can fix h–?”
Childe’s head violently snaps to the side under the force of the blow, a red, angry handprint blooming across his left cheek.
“Shut up! Don’t talk about him like that! Scaramouche doesn’t need fixing because he is not broken!” Your breath hitches, adrenaline and indignation roaring through your veins as you stare at his perfect side profile. “He sings about his pain, about his raw emotions! He sings about his authentic experiences! What would you know about that?!?”
You look at the dark bruise slowly coloring his skin, and immediate regret floods your chest. You lost your cool for a second and lashed out at one of the label’s top idols – people who go through rigorous training with punishing schedules, only seeing their families a few times a year if they are lucky.
“Childe, I’m sorry…” You gently move his chin to face you so you can see if he is in pain. “Wait here, I will go get some ice for your cheek.”
Before you could turn away from him, he quickly snatches your hand that was on his chin just moments ago, pulling it close to his throbbing cheek, his thumb drawing slow circles on your soft palm.
“That… that felt really good~,” he breathes sensually, his eyes locked on you, dilated and unblinking, projecting an overwhelming, piercing intensity. “It hurts so good~” He tilts his head toward the inner surface of your hand and kisses it, his face flushed with arousal.
!
You try to recoil, but his strong grip belies his slender build. Childe closes in, leaning his heavy, sweat-damp body over your mixer console, effectively blocking your exit route.
“C-Childe, please!” You cry in distress, but it doesn’t reach him.
I don't care! What I want, I take. And I want to play with you, pretty little thing.
♡♡♡
THUD
The sharp sound of a powerful weapon meeting solid wood echoes throughout the campsite. The forceful impact splits the stem, sending a creak through the trunk before a panicked shriek cuts the air.
The source of the piercing cry is a young woman, her body shaking like a leaf. The poor soul is petrified with horror after a spearhead impaled the tree with force and precision — just a breath next to her head.
A hand reaches out and wrenches the jagged spear from the battered trunk, its sharp tip gliding free. “Aww, did I scare you?” purrs a deep voice with mock innocence.
“What a beauty you are. How come I only notice you now?” The man leers down at the trembling girl with a smug smile, imagining all the things he will do to her once the sun sinks. His hungry eyes devour every detail of her body, lingering on her silky hair, those kissable lips, her soft curves...
He reaches out with his large, calloused hand, eager to take whatever he wants — just like he always did back in the Petrification Kingdom. As its strongest warrior, no one ever dared cross him unless they wanted it to be the last thing they ever did in their insignificant lives.
But instead of meeting the warmth of soft skin, his fingers collide with freezing metal.
The deadly point of a kudayari blocks his greedy hand, stopping Moz dead in his tracks before he can touch her.
“It seems I have gone too lightly on you. You still have the energy to fool around, wasting your time with the absurd pursuit of physical gratification instead of the relentless refinement of your skills. If you have already lost interest in learning the Owari Kan Ryu style, then tell me now. I will not teach anyone who isn’t dedicated.”
Moz turns his head to watch his future conquest use Hyoga’s interception to scurry away like a frightened little mouse. “Heh.” His annoyance quickly melts into pure amusement as he realizes Hyoga isn't quite as cold and ruthless as he pretends to be.
This is going to be fun.
Turning back to his fellow spearman with a mocking grin, his words laced with pure mischief. “Oh, really?” He drawls, the words rolling off his tongue with a hint of arrogance, a smug smirk plastered on his handsome face. “Hey, Hyoga, let’s make this interesting. When I beat you — and I will one day — I’ll get her,” he nods at the girl’s retreating form, “as my trophy.”
The white-haired man stops abruptly, his purple eyes pinning Moz to the spot with their icy intensity.
The shit-eating grin on Moz’s face gets even wider; he can’t believe the ever-so-calculating spearman took his bait. Reveling in his own arrogance, he continues to provoke the aloof fighter, deeply amused by this rare crack in Hyoga's composure. “I can already see her writhing under me, mewling in pleasure and—”
Moz barely avoids the spear thrust aimed at his head in time, the tree behind him exploding into thousands of wood chunks.
“You’re talking as if you’ve already bested me.” Hyoga withdraws his kudayari, the sharp blade glinting menacingly in the sunlight. “But you’re not even close. Your technique is sloppy at best and outright offensive at worst. You won’t be able to beat me any time soon — maybe never, if you keep fooling around.”
“Well, well, well,” Moz says, dragging the words out. “And here I thought all you value is strength and capabilities. Yet here you are, getting all mushy for a girl.”
The tip of Hyoga’s blade didn’t waver. It rests a mere inch from Moz’s throat, the steel reflecting the harsh sunlight.
“I value competence,” Hyoga states flatly, “And right now, her contributions to the Kingdom of Science far exceed your sloppy, undisciplined behavior. If you attempt to compromise the focus of its workers to satisfy your fleeting physical whims again, I will personally filter you out of this ecosystem. Do not test my patience, Moz.”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, Hyoga snaps his weapon back, the wind from the movement ruffling Moz's hair. He turns and strides away, leaving a tense, suffocating silence behind.
Moz smirked, his grip tightening on his own spear. The lazy playfulness was gone, replaced by a competitive glint. “A filtering, huh? Now that sounds like a challenge.”
