Satan with 30 and 86 for the yandere prompts please? 🥺👉👈
30. “I’d tell you I love you, until my throat bleeds, and I can no longer speak.”
86. “You’re my antidote, I’d die without you.”
S A T A N
t.w. yandere, manipulation, dark themes, blood, ft. Hanihaki AU ( God I hope that's hoe you spell it ).
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“Anger is an acid that can do more harm for the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it’s poured.” - Mark Twain
You never really understood the meaning of the quote, even though you first came across it when you were much younger, maybe around 11 or 12 for a project on a famous figure, you didn’t see the harm anger itself had on those who held it in. You were raised to release your anger, we all were, either in healthy or destructive ways, but in the end- you never realized the consequences of tucking that anger away.
That was, until you met Satan, and everything made sense. His being was wrath, though, he seemed so patient and respectful. That ended up leading to his outbursts though, those angry, ravenous, deadly, outbursts.
It made you wonder, did other emotions have that effect too?
“You’re my antidote, I’d die without you.” His voice was raspy and low, blood dripped from his lip, and blonde locks covered his eyes. Standing at the stairs in his room, he gripped the railing with a bloody hand, small rounded violet petals stuck to the thick fluid. He was muttering to himself, looking off into an empty space as he pleaded for his love, his affections to be returned.
You never realized, until now- it did.
Camellia flowers…
Your body was so close to him, your hands were comforting, your touch alone helped soothe the burning tissue in his lungs, the vines that were nested deep into the organ always became less irritated when you touched him.
But, they wouldn’t leave.
Not until you loved him.
And, fortunately, for him, you did, with all your heart.
“Satan, please- just tell me.” Your voice cracked, tears slipped from your eyes, gripping his body to help keep him upright. Why? Why wouldn’t he just confess. Allow emotions to escape him, because now? Now his own life was threatened by the stupid flowers- the ones you loved so much. Your love for them twisted into a complete hatred for the flower, seeing as they were killing the demon you loved, but you couldn’t voice that right now.
“I… I can't.” He whispered, good Hellflame he was in pain, but he still sounded weak and pathetic. Just as he needed to. He needed you to feel his pain, his longing, his love. He needed you to believe him.
“Why? You think I want you to die? To be in pain? For what? Because you love someone and won’t bother to tell them? Satan, you’re going to die.”
“Good. I- I can die peacefully then, knowing-” He cut himself off, harsh coughs ripped from his lugs, petals and small thorns escaping their home in his lungs and cutting up his airway as they left him.
“Knowing what? That you’re a fucking idiot who isn’t caring for himself?”
Okay, ouch.
But he’ll take it.
“Knowing that being with me never hurt…” He sighed, talking was starting to hurt, blood pooled in his mouth.
“Who? Never hurt who?” You begged. His face turned to you, tired and lost, his eyes were begging and looking for something in you. He let his head slip into the space where your shoulder and neck met, his breath shuddered before he moved to grip at your clothing, needy and looking for affection. He even let a tear or two slip into the exposed skin.
“You. It’s you- always has been.” Your heart dropped, and you pulled him closer to you, trying to comfort the demon and in turn it made his own heart flush in delight. Your own emotions were now evident, he felt your love you carried for him, innocent, warm, and his. The flowers started to detach from the lining in his lungs, the thorns tips were now dulling, the vines lost their thickness, and the petals started to wilt.
He was delighted that the plot, that he created with his own adept hands, was unraveling perfectly.
“Satan, it’s me? You’ve… been in love with me this whole time?” You were shocked, your hand in his hair trying to comfort him and your mind raced, he loved you. He loved you back and decided to tell you now, after being on the verge of death?
“Y-yes. I’m sorry, I truly am. But, I was scared. I thought if I had just allowed this all to happen, you’d move on after a while, be with someone who you don’t fear. Who can guarantee they won’t harm you.” He wept quietly, the small, wicked grin, spread on his face didn’t match his voice.
But he couldn’t help it.
He lured his beauty into a trap, and she would never know, for it was beautifully woven as a home filled with love, instead of a house of obsession.
“Satan, you’d never hurt me-”
Yet.
“And I know you are what you are.”
A monster.
“But even then, I accepted that-”
Did you, really?
“And I saw what you didn’t show others-”
Because now, he found his other half, only for him, and he is only for them.
“And I love you.”
Say it again.
“I love you and everything you are,”
Again. He needed more.
“So please, all your wrath,”
Yes.
“All your sorrows,”
Yes.
“All your love,”
YES.
“Everything you have, I’m willing to take,”
Perfect.
“Because I love you, so please, let me.” You whispered at his point, the both of you gripping at each other, the craving for love ran deep, though it was for two completely different mediums.
“You’d let me love you?”
“Only if you'd let me do the same.” He pulled from you as you answered him, his face was soft and full of love, there was no facade. He heard everything he needed to hear, his body was healing, eating away at the flowers that once plagued him.
“Then I’ll love you with everything I have, my entire being. I’d tell you I love you, until my throat bleeds, and I can no longer speak. I’ll make you as happy as I can, be the best I can, just for you.”
Oh, what a scene it was, perfectly executed.
Perfectly made with love.
And perfectly horrid in nature.
