Mayonnaise707

Lets kick this off with some of the more lighthearted pieces.

On the left we have a drawing of me absolutely sloshed, hanging onto Sesshōmaru for support while he looks deeply annoyed to be there. The outfit designs are… not great. And it is painfully obvious I was listening to the band HIM at the time.

What makes this especially funny to me is that I had never had any alcohol in my life at that point. I wasn’t drawing from experience — I was copying what I’d seen in shows/media. That was clearly an attempt at drawing a bottle of beer or sake, my lil wee-a-boo ass.

Looking back, it’s pretty clear I was inventing a scenario where Sesshōmaru had to take care of me. Which tracks, honestly. If you’ve read anything else on this blog, you already know how I viewed him.

The second piece I’m sharing is… a choice. I’ve blurred the text because it’s simply too embarrassing to release into the world.

Looking back at these— and honestly, a lot of my old drawings(that I can't bring myself to share), some going all the way back to when I was 12 —there’s a really funny recurring theme.

For whatever reason, I drew myself as this annoying, relentless fangirl who absolutely will not leave Sesshōmaru alone. I was his number one stalker. He doesn’t want to be around me. He’s clearly enduring my presence. And yet… he never actually shakes me.

That dynamic is implied here too in these later teen drawings. Sesshōmaru is tolerating me more than engaging— resigned, long suffering, putting up with my nonsense.

And the e-collar thing? I can only assume that was teenage logic at work. He’s a dog demon, therefore… dog accessories? I truly don’t know what was happening in my brain. But it clearly felt very funny and clever at the time. I want to re-draw this scene, adult me has ideas heh.

I had this Sesshomaru plushie when I was a kid and I was very possessive of it. I know this last piece is older than the first two by how I drew myself. It had to be 12-13, because blond bangs happened when I was older. This was no character, these were just drawings that were me.

Now for the very sensitive pieces

The next pieces are harder to share. These are the ones that were never meant to be funny— they’re vent pieces, drawn straight out of my most vulnerable states.

On the left, I’ve drawn myself completely broken down, sobbing. Sesshōmaru is holding me, and his expression is furious, but not at me, but at whatever caused the pain in the first place. I don’t remember what I was going through at the time. That absence feels intentional, like my mind chose not to keep the details. All that remains is the feeling. That I needed to be held, and that I imagined him as someone who would be angry for me, protective.

The piece in the middle I remember clearly.

I’ve blurred the text again, because it’s still a lot to share, but I can say this much, it was over a boy who broke my heart (eyeroll). In the text, I’m apologizing to Sesshōmaru for leaving him. He tells me it’s okay.

Looking back, this kind of attachment makes a lot of sense developmentally.

When you’re young, your inner world is enormous. You’re forming your sense of self, learning how emotions work, and figuring out your place in the world.

Fiction offers something real life often can’t at that age: consistency. Characters don’t disappear. They don’t get overwhelmed by your feelings. They don’t punish you for needing comfort.

He specifically, represented steadiness. He was composed when I wasn’t. Protective when I felt vulnerable. Present without suffocating. Even if I didn’t fully understand those traits at the time, I was responding to them intuitively. I wasn’t drawing romance as much as I was drawing emotional shelter. Someone who could hold the weight of my big feelings without breaking.

Sesshōmaru has meant so much to me for so long. My bond with him has grown and shifted over the years—I think about him differently now as an adult, in ways I couldn’t have imagined when I was twelve—but at the center of it all, the core of what he has always been for me remains the same.

He is, and always will be, my comfort. The quiet, unwavering guardian of my heart. I love him, deeply, fully, in ways that carry both the nostalgia of my younger self and the understanding of who I am today.

I had sketchbooks filled with drawings— some serious, some silly, and some tender.

I had a three ring binder packed with pictures of Sesshōmaru, mostly anime screencaps, and sometimes fanart. I printed them at the public library, one dime a page, spending every bit of my lunch snack allowance just to bring him home with me. Each page I slid carefully into a plastic sleeve. That binder lived in my backpack for years it was my portable shrine.

At home, I made a literal altar on my shelf. Candles even. Small objects that fit his theme and a framed picture of him at the center. Even black and white printouts on computer paper taped to my walls. It was all I had, it was everything.

Merchandise was nearly impossible to obtain. I was a child with no money, and online creators weren’t really a thing yet. Official merch meant maybe HotTopic, if you were lucky. I was gifted a Sesshōmaru plush in middle school and I carried it to school every day. Some people thought I was weird. My friends didn’t, they supported me. But all of that— the art, the shrine, and the binder was just the surface.

Being a teenager is brutal. Even now, in my 30s, I haven’t forgotten how ill equipped I felt for life at that age. My home life wasn’t safe or stable. Puberty hit hard, and at 13, my world flipped upside down. My emotions felt like too much—I was drowning. I didn’t know how to cope. I started self harming in seventh grade, overwhelmed by feelings I didn’t have the language or tools to process.

Art became my lifeline, allowing a special kind of escapism. I drew Sesshōmaru and myself together. It wasn’t just jokes and crack art, though there was plenty of that, but the soft, fluffy stuff, the tried and true hurt/comfort. I would sketch him holding me while I cried. He was always present, steady, my pillar.

What drew me to him wasn’t just his attractiveness or mystery— it was control, something I lacked. His command. His restraint. His composure. The way he protected Rin. The way he acted as a guardian. How he never raised his voice and was always decisive.

If I’m honest, I just wanted to be cared for. I wanted the calm he seemed to possess when my emotions felt like a curse. I mistook his stoicism for coldness back then, because I was a child desperate for quiet inside my own head who lacked critical thinking and media literacy to fully understand his depth. I thought I needed to cut my feelings out to be like him. Nonetheless, he made me feel safe. He helped me survive my childhood.

By today’s standards, those early years would be considered a platonic yume. I was a kid with feelings I didn’t yet understand. I knew he was beautiful. I knew he was hot, but ‘adult’ desire wasn’t the point. Comfort was.

I joke about how Sesshōmaru appeared in episode 5: Aristocratic Assassin and imprinted on me forever. It’s funny because it’s true. No other character has held my heart the way he has. No other story has lived in my psyche the way ‘Inuyasha: A Feudal Fairy Tale’ did.  I’ve watched countless anime since then, and most of it passes through me like food— enjoyable, but forgettable.

Sesshōmaru did not pass.

He stayed.

As I got older, a more ‘adult’ attraction naturally followed— but even then, Sesshōmaru was comfort first. Now, in my 30s, feeling emotionally grounded and secure, I don’t think another character could ever fill the role he did when I needed him most.

That door was opened once, and he closed it behind him as he entered.

When I was 12, I promised myself I’d get a Sesshōmaru tattoo someday. At 27, my grandmother passed away suddenly. She was one of the people I loved most. Losing her was my first real confrontation with my own mortality. I realized how fragile time is and how little we’re guaranteed. It scared me.

In my grief, I returned to what had always been true.

I got the tattoo.

Now my left arm has a three-quarter sleeve of Sesshōmaru in his true dog demon form, stretching across my arm and collarbone. I chose my left arm on purpose, since it’s the one he loses and later regains after realizing his strength was always his own.

Looking back now, I see that Sesshōmaru was never phase or a fixation. He wasn’t only a fantasy I escaped into; he was something I carried forward. Through childhood, through loss, through growth, he remained a steady figure in my heart. This was never just a shallow attachment to a “hot character.” It was self love and care, expressed in the way I understood back then.

If you’ve ever formed a bond like this, remember that it doesn’t need justification. These attachments aren’t less important just because they’re inside or imaginative. They are real in the ways that matter most. They shape us, protect us, and sometimes help us through the years we couldn’t survive alone.

“Yumeshipping” didn’t start with the internet, and it doesn’t need permission. Many of us formed these bonds long before we had language for them— alone, gently, with only our hearts and imagination to drive us. If your connection is deep, if it has carried you through hard years, and if it feels woven into who you are, that is enough. You don’t owe anyone proof.

A lot of yumeshippers feel pressured to measure their love in visible things; merchandise, collections, shrines you can photograph and display. And while those can be joyful and meaningful, they are not the measure of devotion and love for a character. You are not lesser if you have none of it.

I hope that by sharing my story, I’ve shown that attachment starts in the heart, in the imagination, in the intimate moments that shape who we become. My bond is proof that loving a character goes far deeper than what can be bought. 

ABOUT ME ╭ ☾ ─────────────────────✿╮

│Xylus / Xy │30+ they/them │Queer · Nonbinary │A yumeship blog for Lord Sesshōmaru │Devoted & Married 23 yrs │Anniversary: September 26 │I’m a full time digital artist │I love horror media │Current fav game: Cult of the Lamb │I'm a canine kemonomimi.

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