Your Yandere!Necromancer watched as you squirmed in his arcane holds. The sigils pressed white-hot burns across your body like an explosion of coal along your tender flesh. You screamed out, damned him, cursed him, but a protective charm had been laid out across his domain: your magic was useless here.

You did your best. In fact, had he not been on high alert, you might have actually killed him. But, your fatal mistake was in the details, in mere half-seconds. This battle was over. You were over.

Your Yandere!Necromancer stood and relished in your bitter tears. How long had he dreamed of capturing you, helpless and afraid? You had been a star student, adored by all back at the academy. Your talent and warm nature honed your magic well. So well in fact, he once considered you his only rival. And yet, here you were. Still human, and still weak.

“Little witchling,” his voice was older than you remember, something ancient catching at the edges of his vocal cords. Truthfully, he had promised his soul away to something ageless many years ago, though you didn't know that. Your Yandere!Necromancer mocked you, “Did you really think you could defeat me?”

Hot tears welled up and flowed over. Gods, it hurt. You’re going to die. You’re dying. Your mind was a mess, and your tongue refused to speak. What did you think you could do? Pierce his heart? You swallowed. Did he even have one anymore?

A cold hand traced your face, cupping it gently. Your Yandere!Necromancer wiped your tears away, and you watched in horror as he lifted his fingers up to his shrouded head, jaw exposed just enough to see his black tongue flick out and taste your sorrow. Taste you. You gagged dryly, afraid.

“Please… Let me go,” You had just enough strength to beg, “I… I don’t want to die—”

The sigils against your skin flared bright white again and you screamed out, stomach flipping. The damage was all mental, but your will was too weak to ignore it. You could barely see straight as your Yandere!Necromancer knelt down beside you, petting your hair gently as if you were a wounded animal in his hunting trap. He had longed to touch you, wondered how your hot skin would feel against his own, and curled his slender fingers boldly within your locks.

You were finally in his grasp.

“You fear death?” He sucked his teeth teasingly, almost chuckling, “You’ll welcome it soon enough... when I’m through with you.”

He shushed you, and suddenly hooked his fingers violently against the back of your head, forcing you to crane your neck back so far, you feared you’d break. Another cry escaped. Your tears spilled past your cheeks and towards your ears, and you watched in disgust as his mouth opened above yours, and a single line of drool trailed down…

Down…

Down…

…Towards your quivering lips.

Your Yandere!Necromancer watched with crimson eyes expectantly as the poison forced its way against your parted lips, and you winced in humiliation as you tasted your captor. It was crushed and bitter cloves, laced with burnt roots and licorice. Something metallic. Something sweet. Something foul. Your stomach did somersaults again, and your refusal to swallow felt like drowning.

With an eager second hand, he fastened your jaw shut. Your eyes watered more as you whimpered, desperate to refuse his cold saliva. But swallow or not, you realized too late that it was more than just his spit. It was something toxic.

Your vision doubled, then tripled, and suddenly your body felt very much numb altogether as your mind focused onto a single point: your slowing heartbeat.

Your Yandere!Necromancer smiled a cruel smile, half of his face still hidden behind a dark hood, as darkness crept into your vision.

And then everything went black.

⭑ ࣭ ๋︶꒦꒷︶꒦꒷ ̟ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑

Wet.

Hot.

Pain.

Searing, burning pain.

Your eyes opened wide, frantic, and your lungs filled with air to scream, but instead you let out a damp groan, throat raw and coated with old blood. It took a moment for you to realize that your Yandere!Necromancer was fucking into your dry sex with hateful speed, your hips splayed apart uncomfortably wide.

You gagged on your own bile and blood as you realized your mouth was damaged—maybe rotted and blistered from your captor’s earlier undead elixir—and your arms were pinched behind you, tied tight with dimly lit sigil bindings. The runes snaked across your body in curved ropes, pinning you helplessly across a marble altar. You could smell death and disease around you, but your head was held uncomfortably up, only pointed towards the black stone ceiling.

You cried, at least you thought you were crying. Everything was a blinding white-hot pain that you couldn’t even feel the wetness of your tears as they leaked around your clumped lashes.

But your Yandere!Necromancer was ecstatic, stabbing his manhood so deep inside you that your body shuddered against your will. He had admired you, spied on you, envied you, and hated you for so, so, so long. It was in his nature to soil perfect living things, and you were no exception.

“My witchling…”

It wasn’t a purr, it was a command. A renaming.

Your Yandere!Necromancer dug his dark nails into your thigh's exposed flesh, piercing you until thick, red blood caked underneath his fingernails. Your skin bloomed with bruises underneath his touch. More. More. His thrusting had become desperate, erratic, and he watched in blissful pride as your body begun to submit to his will and reformed to his shape.

Gods.

He wanted you like this—perfectly his, forever.

For longer than forever.

Please stop—You thought you whispered it, begged it, but your throat was too weak. You barely even had the strength to struggle against your holds. Instead your body pressed harder into the used altar, trying to gain distance from him, but to no avail.

Your blurred state of mind only sharpened into a blade-like point when you felt your Yandere!Necromancer lean down and bite into your bare shoulder. Blood burst past his teeth and coated his gums with the salty-sweet taste of you. Your throat was raw and damaged but you screamed and screamed. And, like a starved dog, he lapped up your delicious, hot essence.

You had begun to bleed out.

Slowly but surely, you felt it begin to drain out: your very life itself. Like a cold blanket laid over your burning body, you began to grow numb and cold, and the ringing of bells danced in your ears like a merciless alarm.

In, out, in, in, in, out, in, out—

Your Yandere!Necromancer counted his thrusts like measured punishments, watching as your eyes dulled and glassed over with every raw thrust. He hated you for so long, but only now realized how... beautiful you were. You were like a perfect, crumpled flower: your petals were bruised and plucked, all for his enjoyment. Yes, you were beautiful now. Beautiful and his.

You were silent.

Your mind had slipped away before your heart even stopped, and even then, your Yandere!Necromancer didn't halt his desperate fucking. He was close—your pussy was still tight and hot—but this wouldn't do. No, no, no.

He wanted you. The real you.

The living you.

But you were so weak, so fragile. If he wanted to keep up his fun, you had to improve. You had to be reborn.

Still rhythmically thrusting, your Yandere!Necromancer knelt down, draping your body in his dark robes, your own blood spilling from his lips and dripping across your face like springtime rain. The color was still in your cheeks when he pressed his lips against yours, invading your mouth with his tongue as he traced dark magic into the roof of your mouth. It wasn't textbook, it wasn't a spell that was written down.

And, if you were alive at this point, you would have felt the constricting pain as your veins hollowed and dried and filled with terrible, horrible magics. You would have felt your skin cool and harden, would have felt as your heart lurched back and up and awake. But luckily you were unaware of all of this, and instead dreamily blinked your eyes back awake, stifled and shocked by the sudden kiss upon your lips.

You mumbled something into his mouth, still so weak and tired, but no longer in pain. Something was different, but you didn't know what. Your mind was a haze, now under his control.

Your Yandere!Necromancer bit against your lip and pulled away enough to hide his twisting expression from you. In undeath, you had begun to clench harder against his pained cock, your own expression now blissful and unaware. With a final thrust, he painted your womb with his seed, though it would no longer affect you like it would have before. You tried to crane your head up again for another kiss, your lips stained with blood, but you were still bound. Still weak, but no longer human.

Your Yandere!Necromancer finally released himself from you, smearing your combined juices against your inner thigh. You were his perfectly preserved flower... All his, forever and ever. He trailed his finger against the curve of your jaw, almost affectionate, and removed your arcane bindings. The runes floated down to the altar like burnt feathers falling through thick air.

Even unbound, you did not run—and why would you? This was where you belonged now.

The mage took your hand in his, carefully pulling you up until you leaned lovingly within his arms. He smelled of cloves and burnt honey, with a soft undertone of peat. And many, many moons ago, he might had wished for this moment between you two: you, a once-great witch, felt so small in his embrace. Were you always a woman, while he was a man? He was unsure. But, things were different now. You were different now. The questions he once asked would now forever go unanswered. And he must accept that.

What dark work went into forging a solider of such caliber?

Hammered hard and sharpened by both the whip and blade, your Yandere!Knight had his eyes on the throne for quite some time. Well, not the throne per se, but rather on the fabled beauty that were to one day sit upon it. He had done terrible things, unspeakable things, just to claw his way up to meet the future queen. And, for good reason! The whole kingdom knew you as the princess who was so much like the sun: warm, welcome, and a pleasant sight in an otherwise winter wasteland.

You had been a cherished gift to the people, ever since your birth. Prophesized. Idolized. Though, the thought of your responsibilities and rumored popularity always sat strangely with you. It heated your cheeks, and you always were poor at taking a compliment. It drove you to isolation. And, being both powerful and so isolated... Well, it caused a sad sense of beauty to grow around you.

You were untouchable: you were the princess of ever-sunlight, who was rumored to be as humble as she was melancholically captivating.

But it was this very humility that first drew your Yandere!Knight in towards you. You didn't remember him, no, not from your childhood days when your parents would parade you around the capital—heavily guarded, of course. How could you remember the time you came across a poor beggar boy? He was the type of faceless child that was thrown towards the church in order to spare parents from breaking more bread than necessary. There were hundreds of them in your city alone.

But there he was, just a casualty of a sloppy fuck. Pushed out, unloved, and forgotten. Dirty and worthless. But not to you. No. You couldn't remember then, but you had managed to sneak away from your guards for only a moment. The boy, maybe your age, maybe older, looked so hungry, and you couldn't help yourself. You realized you had a shining red apple in your back coat pocket, and graciously offered it up.

He bit into the crisp flesh greedily, tasting yearning for the first time, tantalized by fresh fruit and a princess that he'd soon do anything for. The boy wondered if you tasted as sweet as the apple between his teeth. He swallowed, curious, unsatiated. And, just like that, your guards appeared and you were gone.

What dark work went into stoking a flame for two decades?

Your Yandere!Knight was no longer that same, starved child. By now, he had eaten enough to grow twice your size. He had grown old enough to taste smoked meat and sweet mead, experienced enough to have savored stale, bought cunt, and resolved enough to know nothing would ever compare to you and your boundless kindness. He'd serve you. Do anything for you. What hunger he had before had now bloomed into starved obsession.

But his helm was shut tight. You did not see his smile.

And, as he stood after kneeling at your debutante, your fingers lingered in his gauntlet for a moment too long before you noticed, snatching them away shyly.

"Your Royal Highness," His voice was a hoarse groan. Deep, like dark forest wood, frozen after a storm. Your Yandere!Knight did not speak often, you could tell—but your father had picked him out for you after glowing recommendations. You nodded in response.

"You may speak," You urged, curious.

He stood tall, towering over your frame. Were all men this large? You were unsure, not too keen on getting close to any before. His silver armor glimmered in your ballroom's dim lighting, polished enough to see a phantom of your face warped around the curve of his breastplate. His shoulders were broad. Did roped muscle hide away behind the metal plating, pulled tight across a mature body? You waited silently, blinking.

"...Your Highness?"

Oh—you lifted your hands to your cheeks. Did you not hear him? You gave a polite laugh and apologized, asking him to repeat himself.

Your Yandere!Knight stood, perplexed. Did a princess just apologize to him? For what, being lost in thought? He eyed you, his curious, kind creature. Would you apologize too, when he'd bury himself to the hilt within you? Or, would your perfectly naive facade melt away to instead show him what kind of woman you really were? His throat was dry with thirst, but it was not wine that he was after. He bit his lip, and tasted hot blood and apple skins.

"Congratulations on your big day," He began again, "Is... what I said."

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you nodded coolly, and he continued.

"I am honored, Your Highness. You don't know... how long I prayed for this day. I never thought my dreams of serving you would finally come true."

There was a twinge of something in his voice, but you couldn't quite place it. It almost sounded sad, but you were uncertain. For some reason, you felt the need to comfort the man.

"I am honored, too," You smiled sweetly, "I've never had my own knight before. At least, not a proper one, all to myself," You caught your reflection within his helm as he turned his gaze deeper towards you, "So this will be the first time for both of us."

A great ache nestled in the chest and loins of your Yandere!Knight. Oh, how he wanted to sweep you away and upstairs, then and there. But he wouldn't dare. Not yet. You weren't ripe enough. And, as he glanced down from your innocent eyes, down your round nose, across the curve of your jaw, and finally resting his gaze against the plush of your lips, your Yandere!Knight had begun to conspire.

All of his hard work, sleepless nights, bloodied robes, and broken bones, had led him here, to this, to you. His plan was slowly unfurling, but he wasn't done yet.

Silently, he stepped aside for your guests to greet you, and he watched over your shoulder as the princess—his princess—was introduced to the world as a new woman. The sway of your gown, the shine in your hair, the soft, nervous glances that you spared him between dances and drinks and merriment, all of it captivated him. With his prayers now answered, now he needed to please the gods to keep his wish. So, he promised himself that he would obey and behave.

Your lashes fanned towards him shyly, and he felt himself harden within his trousers.

Behaving would be easier said than done, of course.