#Cannibal Reader

[heartfullofleeches]

Femboy Yan falls for Cannibal Darling because the first time they ever look at him is after he leaves a party with all his makeup wiped off. He figures they're admiring the real him under the bright face he parades around with, but Darling just thinks all those products would ruin his flavor and it's nice to see what a potential future meal might look like stripped of what they can't eat.

"Pretty boy.... Drive home safely.. Wouldn't want anything to happen to that.. lovely skin of yours."

[djljpanda]

may we have some headcanons for Alastor where his relationship with the reader is similar to that of Fizz and Ozzie’s? (bonus if reader is also a cannibal)

please, and thank you

Alastor X Gn Cannibal Reader

Now how you two even got together was a huge story in itself

When you were alive you loved the radio so when you came to hell you had to meet the radio demon

Thanks to Rosie with getting you two together you and Alastor surprisingly hit it off as you two talked while eating on some demon fingers together

And that was just the first as you both went on about the radio, similarities in how you both like human or now demon flesh, with you making those dark humor jokes he did ask you to say some of those jokes on his radio show and it went on from there

Now you and Alastor don’t show pda but just fizzozzie you two are cuddling behind close doors as you are on of the only demons that Alastor lets touch him

Now maybe in public you might say some flirtatious things but when no one is around you are pulling out all your pick up lines while Alastor is just there smiling at you

Headcanon Alastor can’t flirt and if he does try it just comes off as creepy but either way you like it

Do kill demons together and love being fear to people

Many people would be surprised if they found out you two were dating

You do respect Alastor on how he is Asexual

You two do dance together and you guys do have a song that he plays for you

You do bring some demon flesh as Alastor is busy with his radio show

Would fight for this man and Alastor would defend you two

In a way yours relationship can be like fizzozzie but you two do have your own thing going on

[harleehazbinfics]

Idk if ur doing cannibal reader but just imagine her and alastor teasing her and her just short circuiting and he keeps flirting with her and she s literally almost dies again lolz (also i love ur work sm)

Trying to Flirt with You

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

A/N: THIS GAVE ME OHHH ASHLEYYY GLASHBACKS OH MY GODD thank you for liking my fics hsdshd. I didn't do the request 1-to-1 cause i was satisfied how this turned out hsadas I WANT YALL TO SEE HIM BE AFFECTIONATE UNDER ALL THAT EXTERIOR AND WHAT HE DOES WITH HER BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

"Oh, (y/n)~"

You place your eyes on Alastor as he settles his chin on his laced fingers and smiles at you seductively. You flush and hiccup when you see his heated gaze, your eyes turning to their irregular heart shapes.

The both of you were enjoying a wonderful meal together in his room like you usually would, however he's never called you like this before.

"Yes, sir?" you sputter wiping your mouth with a napkin.

"I was just wondering how your eyes turn that way," he says while smiling at you, "I find it quite cute."

You choke on your own spit at his complements, unsure how to react to his flirty remarks. It didn't help that the radio filter enhanced everything. You covered your mouth and fanned yourself from the massive blush you had on your face.

Sure, you were used to love bombing him and all, but you never outright flirted with him since he seemed to dislike other people's advances on him. So, to not end up on his bad side you settled to a more comfortable area where he won't despise you, but he knows that you appreciate him.

So, this was entirely new to you. He never reciprocated any of your affection so what were you supposed to do?! There was no handbook for this!

"Isn't it getting hot in here? Why don't I open a champagne--" You stopped from getting up when he snapped his fingers, a shadow puppet came and delivered the champagne in their glasses while another shadow pushed you back down on your chair scooted it closer to the table.

"How about I take care of that? We've known each other for so long but I want to get to know the real you better," he replies, "I have known for a long time that you're a fantastic cook! You failed to mention however that you went to culinary school and~ owned a restaurant of your own!"

"That is commendable on itself! Why, aren't you just the perfect partner for a cannibal overlord," He claps at your achievements.

"Partner?" you whisper sweat dripping from your form squirming from the amount of attention you're receiving.

"Why, of course! If not my partner, then what else!" he laughs heartily with a laughing track, "unless, of course, you mean to be my spouse?"

Your head exploded at the thought, your heart squeezed and pulled. S-spouse? to Alastor? That was just a wishful dream you had! You never thought he'd utter the words you only dreamed to hear. Several years of you imagining to his significant other, you never imagine he'd open the possibility of it.

While you head was running around, currently, you slumped on the chair as smoke came from your head as you muttered words to yourself with a dreamy smile with an unfocused look in your eyes that maintained their heart shape.

"Oh, (y/n)?" Alastor tries again to gain your attention and pull you from your daydreaming.

However, he unsuccessful. So, he just sighs in defeat with a chuckle and took your hand that was left on the table and caressed your knuckles with his thumb as his chin rested on the other as he admired your dazed form.

He barely started his conversation with you, and you've already turned out like this. It seems he'll have to be patient with you.

🔗Cannibal Chef!Reader Taglist:

@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @midorichoco, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @spoiled-slutt, @roboticsuccubus83, @atlas-rin, @yuriohoe04, @azullynxx, @milk-bulb, @rainynyy, @s2tng

[nanamineedstherapy]

Mouth to Meat

Cannibal Yakuza Sukuna X [Retracted] F!Reader

Summary: Dr. Y/N L/N is tasked with profiling Ryomen Sukuna, a feared yakuza boss known for his violent tendencies and taste for human flesh. Through a series of therapy sessions, she gains his trust—or so it seems. But Sukuna isn’t the only predator in the room. Behind Y/N’s professional demeanor hides a secret far darker than even Sukuna’s sins. When the masks drop, it’s clear: monsters don’t always look like him.

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, Implied cannibalism, Moral ambiguity (everyone’s awful), Mentions of child endangerment.

A/N: This is inspired by an amazing fic idea shared by @sukuna-ryo. Thank you so much for letting me explore this concept! Your creativity brought this to life, and I hope I did it justice. 💕

Chapter 1 - The Price of Curiosity

The room smelled faintly of metal and antiseptic, overpowered by the stink of Sukuna’s restraints. He leaned back in his chair, chains rattling against the bolted-down table, lips curved into an irritated smirk. Another day, another self-important idiot thinking they could peel back the layers of Ryomen Sukuna like some common criminal.

When the door opened, his curiosity barely flickered. Until she walked in.

Unlike the usual parade of interrogators or officials, she carried herself with a casual confidence. No clipboard. No body armor. Just a slim file in her hand and eyes sharp enough to cut glass.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sukuna,” she said as she sat across from him, her tone light, unbothered.

His gaze dragged over her like a predator sizing up prey. “And you are?”

“Dr. Y/N L/N. Forensic psychologist. I’m here to evaluate you.”

He chuckled, low and mocking. “Oh, they sent another one. Let me guess—you’re going to crack open my head and figure out what makes me tick?”

Her lips twitched, almost a smile. “Something like that.”

Leaning forward, Sukuna rested his chin on his palm, the chains clinking with the movement. “Tell me, Doc, what’s the diagnosis so far?”

“You’re impatient,” she said easily. “And maybe a little bored.”

For the first time in years, Sukuna’s smirk faltered—just a hair. “Keep talking.”

She set the file down, not even opening it. “You’re not here because of some uncontrollable bloodlust, are you? You’re not a mindless killer. Every choice you make has purpose. Even your cannibalistic tendencies—they’re calculated.”

His grin widened, shark-like. “You’ve done your homework.”

“I have,” she replied, leaning forward slightly. Her voice dropped, just enough to draw him in. “I know you don’t just eat to survive or for power. You do it to send a message. To dehumanize your victims.”

“Or to elevate myself,” he shot back, amused. “It’s not about dehumanization, Doctor. It’s about taking what others won’t. What they can’t.”

She tilted her head, intrigued. “And what does that give you?”

“Dominance.” His tone was smug, matter-of-fact. “In every way that matters.”

There was a pause, the kind that should have made anyone squirm. But Y/N met his gaze without flinching.

“Does it ever get old?” she asked softly.

The question caught him off guard, though he didn’t let it show. “You’d be surprised, Doc. The taste of fear? That never gets old.”

She leaned back, as if satisfied, and tapped a finger on the edge of the table. “You fascinate me, Sukuna. You don’t just kill—you savor it. I’ve seen your records. You’re… meticulous.”

“You sound impressed,” he teased, voice low and dangerous.

“Maybe I am.” Her smile was small but sharp. “Or maybe I see potential.”

His laughter echoed through the room, rich and feral. “Potential for what? Rehabilitation?”

“Something like that,” she said cryptically. .

---

The sessions continued daily. Y/N’s approach was unorthodox—no lectures, no moralistic speeches. She asked questions that dug deep, steering the conversations toward his cannibalistic acts. Why this victim, why that moment? What did he feel when he consumed them?

Sukuna, for once, played along, curious to see how far she’d go. She didn’t flinch at his answers, no matter how grotesque. If anything, she seemed intrigued, even... amused.

“You’re not like the others,” he said one day, eyes narrowing as she scribbled something in her notes.

“Is that a compliment?”

“An observation.”

Her smile was polite, but her eyes betrayed something darker. “Maybe we’re not so different.” .

The room was quiet after Y/N left for the day. Sukuna leaned back, replaying their conversation. She was digging for something, and he wasn’t sure what. Not fear. Not control. Something deeper.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he mulled it over.

---

Meanwhile, Y/N stepped into her dimly lit apartment, setting her bag down by the door. She pulled off her coat, revealing the faintest smear of something dark—something red—on the cuff of her sleeve.

In the kitchen, she opened her fridge. Rows of vacuum-sealed packages lined the shelves, each labeled with dates and initials. She reached for one, her fingers brushing the plastic before pulling it out.

“Meticulous,” she murmured, her smile stretching wide as she placed the package on the counter. A butcher’s knife gleamed under the fluorescent light.

As she sliced into the flesh, her mind wandered to the child she had rescued from an alley once, its tiny body trembling with gratitude. The memory turned deliciously dark as she savored the look of dawning horror on its face when it realized not every woman was as kind as its mother. Y/N reveled in the bitter taste of fear—fear that lingered, even after the flesh was cooked.

She set the knife down, adjusting the heat on the stove to a low simmer. A small smile tugged at her lips, wicked and sharp. “He thinks he’s a monster,” she murmured, almost lovingly. “He has no idea.”

---

Back in the cell, Sukuna’s smirk returned. His instincts screamed that Y/N L/N was far more dangerous than she appeared.

And for the first time in years, he wasn’t bored.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 💀✨ I had way too much fun diving into the twisted dynamic between Sukuna and Y/N. What did you think of their little “therapy session”? Who do you think is the real monster here? 👀 I’d love to hear your thoughts, theories, or even just your favorite line! Drop a comment and let me know if you’d like more stories like this—or if you think Sukuna ever stood a chance. 😉

Chapter 2 - Flesh and Stone (Tumblr/AO3)

All Works Masterlist

[koridoru]

Can I request scenario? Plot is next: Muzan in love with his female S/O and at some point decides to confess to her that he is demon. But, instead of being shocked or scared, she is very happy about that, because she can share her food with him, and seeing his confused look, explain to him that she is cannibal.

(this is like the second cannibal ask I've gotten is op ok 😭)

(man i can see the dates on asks now and OOF this is from 2021 augh 😭)

You and Muzan were quite the couple, a power couple, should it be called.

You had been together for about eight months now, Muzan was considering tying the knot already.

But one thing stood in the way, he was a demon, you weren't.

God, he didn't want to even tell you, he couldn't imagine the look of betrayal on your face.

He was cruel and cold hearted, but for whatever reason, not with you.

It took a while, but he mustered up the courage to just tell you.

He opens the door to your room, where you sat on a coushin, brushing your hair.

You look back and smile at him.

"How are you doing, darling?"

Your voice is so sweet he can barely take it.

"My dear, I have to...talk to you about something. Something important."

The sincerity in his voice worries you.

You stand up, setting your comb down.

You walk over to him, taking his hands into yours.

"Is something wrong?"

"It..it should be nothing, dear. I don't want to trouble you."

He puts a finger under your chin, raising your head a bit to face him.

"Darling, I...well.."

You cock your head in confusion.

"Are you aware of...demons?"

Your eyes widen just a bit.

"Yes, I am. Why?"

"Well..." He sighs.

"I suppose I should have told you sooner, but, I am one."

You look shocked, initially, but that soon fades.

You smile at him, which confuses him.

"Well, that explains a lot, especially since I've never seen you eat, or go out in the day."

"You're... you're not upset?"

You shake your head.

"Of course not, now I know I can share my meals with you."

His brows furrow, his blood almost runs cold when you say that, if it wasn't cold already.

"Share your meals? What do you mean?" His voice is laced with confusion.

"I eat people too, silly."

His eyes widen, he hesitate to speak.

"You what? I...are you a demon as well?"

"No, I'm a human who also eats humans." Your tone is oddly cheery and unbothered.

It takes a moment, but he realizes.

He sighs a bit, feeling like a fool.

"I understand. What a lucky man I am to have found a lover who understands me like you do, while also sharing a diet. Well, I don't see any reason to hide anything else from you, dear."

He smiles handsomely, you giggle and hug him close, excited about your future meals together.

"Hmm...what would you say is the tastiest part of a person?"

"Well, that's hard...I suppose the more meaty parts, the thighs, stomach, and sometimes the biceps if they are stronger."

You nod in agreement.

[yeagersss]

tw cannibalism

Sukuna would definitely eat your corpse after you die. No, he's not desecrating you. He simply does not want your body to bear his burdens any longer. You did not need to share his burdens anymore as that is what had gotten you killed.

Burying you meant someone would defile you. Disturb you. Use your corpse against him because at the end of the day, humans and sorcerers alike would do anything to break the wretched four eyed demon that brings chaos and destruction where ever he went.

He doesn't cook you. Prefers to eat you raw to savor your exquisite taste. He would take his time to savor each bite. His mind replaying each and every memory he had spend with you as he chews on your flesh slowly. From the day he had met you to the day he had lost you.

He saves your heart for the last and when he sinks his teeth into the organ, he thinks back to the time you had taken his large hand into your smaller ones and placed it against your chest, showing him just how wildly your heart beats for him.

I love you. You had admitted to him shyly.

And then nothing but a deep pool of blood remains on the futon the two of you had shared together as Sukuna looks up and gazes at the forest from the parted shoji screen of his bedroom.

The silence is deafening.

[heartfullofleeches]

Femboy Yan who wears perfume that makes him smell like a fucking bakery in hopes it'll make his darling hungry when he's around so he can drag him along for an impromptu date, but it doesn't quite work out in the way he expects-

"They called me a full course meal today- Ha, they're such a cutie! They were drooling all over me. Like I was a sweet apple and they were just dying to take a bite! I knew revealing more skin would catch their attention sooner or later."

[amaranthinespirit]

your strange relationship with butcher!simon riley cw: murder and mention of unintentional cannibalism (not by reader or simon)

simon was scary. a retired soldier now working back in the butcher shop he had when he was a scrawny teenager, taken over the business from the lad who trained him back in the day. you couldn't help but swoon over him, you looked pathetically out of place in his little roadside butcher's shop. a sweet little thing in comparison.

to you, he was all bark, and no bite. snide remarks with no real hint of malice under his tongue, a smirk creeping up under his thick mask as his dark eyes stared you down. it made you queasy, fluttering behind your soaked panties that made your thighs clench.

your relationship with the man was strange, every week or so, you'd pop in for a hunk of meat that, unfortunately, wasn't him. he'd gave you the finest quality there was, and told you, "'s on th'ouse this week," in that gruff voice that was slightly softened when talking to you. except he told you that every week.

he always offered to walk you to your car, especially if you paid him a visit later in the day, claiming in a grunt, "lo'ta bad men ou'ere, pre'ty thin' like ye'self's need'a guard dog." you merely giggled. or he would walk you back to your place of origin if you didn't bring your car, tugging you close to his side and refusing to let you walk on the roadside.

or whenever he 'wasn't around', you swore you felt the hairs on your neck stand and an undescribable feeling of being watched, in a way that spread warmth up into your chest and down to your weeping cunt. somehow you knew it was him.

and you always wondered why the men in your town who hit on you disappeared without a trace, or the low-lives on the street who whistled and hollered had gone without a scream. the male population was slowly dwindling, and those left fled to other nearby areas in fear.

it's not like you complained, less hassle in your life dealing with pathetic excuses of men and feeling safer walking back home on the sidewalk at night after a late shift at the diner, or studying at the library, if simon wasn't at your side.

little did you know, stashed in the back of that bloody butchery, hung about a dozen or so bodies and counting, ready to be prepped and cut to sell out to his customers. not you, of course, he couldn't do that to you.

like clockwork, you appeared on monday, picking up your regular order of your supply for the week. the bell chimed over the door as you stepped in, dressed in pretty colors, a harsh contrast to his all black and white bloodied apron. god, it looked good on him.

"wot'sit f'r today, li'l lady? the usual, yeah?" he cocked his head to the side, burly arms crossed over his broad chest, making him look bigger in appearance in a way that made your pussy clench.

you nodded shallowly, a polite expression on your pretty face, "yes, sir," you replied kindly, a sweet, comfortable smile despite the blood smeared up his arms, dried crimson between his fingernails. if anything, it made him hotter.

"sure thin'," he nodded once, turning into the back, the smell of metallic and carnage blasted his senses, walking over to a special fridge with meat supplied just for you. he'd been so lost in his thought, he hadn't heard the rustle of the plastic overhead the door, but he sure heard the horrified gasp, and he froze.

"simon?" your voice quivered as you eyed the poorly hidden bodies, some hung up, others cut to pieces, limbs strewn about the countertops, ready to be prepped.

fuck, you'd gone and done it now. guess you're his forever.

[harleehazbinfics]

since i loved that catalastor drabble so much i thought why not duplicates of catalastors 😂😂 cannibal!Y/N kept it a secret and suddenly the hotel is overflowed with catalastor to the point alastor just grabs y/n (bridal style) to somehwere private or somewhere 😂 just a random thought because i love catalastor so much

More Fucking Cats

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

"mew"

"What was that sound?" Alastor asks shifting his gaze from his newspaper to you who suspiciously had your back on the closet.

"N-nothing!" you nervously replied trying to set a smile on your face.

He cranes his head disliking how you lied to him. Your sweat drips down your back as he walks forward towards you making your heart squeeze both in guilt and lovesick. You point your gaze at his hooves with a pout.

"(y/n), move."

You hesitantly move from the closet door and hide behind him. Trying tug him gently away from the door to save yourselves from the chaos that will ensue.

When Alastor opens the door, his eyes meet a pair of red beady ones. With a single blink, multiple pairs of red eyes appear, making you gulp and tug at Alastor's coat harder. He immediately catches you in his arms as he disappears onto his shadow and outside the hotel.

"What the fuck is--"

"WHAT THE HELL?"

"KITTIES!"

"THERE'S SO MANY CATS!"

"(Y/N)!!!"

Both you and Alastor reappear at his studio where you were safe from the mob of angry cats and/or Vaggie. You gave Alastor a guilty smile trying to gain some sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Sir," you apologize while pouting.

He sighs and holds you tighter while he had you in a bridal style hold.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't lie to me," he says bumping heads with you.

Lovestruck from the affectionate action, you held back your squeal and nodded your head, unsure if you could lower your voice if you opened your mouth.

🔗TAGLIST:

@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @kimmis-stuff, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @azullynxx

[yeyinde]

thinking about Simon who just gets out of prison for murder after he's been locked up since he was 18, and starts working at a slaughterhouse for his parole. a big, scary dog who has bloodstains all over him, permanently crusted in the crease of his nails because he prefers field dressing over dragging the carcass inside the shop. who always smells of iron and sweat, and looms over you like he was trying to keep everyone else from looking at you. possessive, but you only know him from rumours and blog posts. his stare, the intense, hungry way he looks at you always gives you the creeps.

he's bad news. and he tries to woo you by feeding you meat from the animals he butchered (getting angry whenever you buy cuts from someone else), and won't go away even when you tell him to leave you alone. you've heard the rumours. read the news articles. nothing about this man is any good—

but he won't, of course. the thing about prison is that you need to hold onto the things that you have and take the stuff that you don't. a sort of cutthroat survival that has raised him better than his own mother. so, when he finds you (something he doesn't have, but wants), it's just in his nature to take.

[kashverse]

gojo’s sweet tooth is a menace. you learned that early on when he asked for “a bit” of sugar in his coffee and ended up turning it into something closer to a dessert syrup. so, of course, when you bake a pear and berry pie—already sweet enough, mind you—he sneaks in extra sweetener when he thinks you aren’t looking. he’s not very subtle about it. the first time, you almost missed it, but then you saw his telltale smug grin, a bit too pleased with himself as he “innocently” leaned against the counter.

"toru," you deadpan, arms crossed.

"what? i’m just appreciating your hard work," he says, licking a stray bit of filling off his finger like he's in a commercial.

"you’re ruining my pie."

"nah, i’m improving your pie," he corrects, already reaching for another spoonful.

nanami, on the other hand, is far less chaotic. he keeps things simple—apple pie, nothing fancy. no extra fillings, no surprise ingredients, just a good ol’ classic that never lets him down. it’s his go-to for the weekends, whether he makes it himself (precisely measured, no shortcuts) or picks one up from the bakery he trusts more than some of his coworkers. sometimes, you’ll walk into the kitchen and find him in the middle of rolling out dough with the same focus he has when reading financial reports. if you joke about him being a househusband, he’ll sigh, wipe his hands on a towel, and say, "do you want pie or not?"

toji doesn’t bake. he doesn’t have time, patience, or, honestly, the self-control to wait for something to cool down before eating it. but after a long day, when you casually hand him a slice of pumpkin pie, he takes it without a word. he’s not big on admitting things, so he just eats it, nodding once in approval, like that’s the most gratitude you’re going to get. but the real giveaway is how he never turns it down. ever. even if he’s pretending like he doesn’t care.

geto loves pecan pie. no debate. no discussion. no hesitation. the man would probably start a war over it if necessary. you once offered him a slice of something else, and he gave you such a disappointed look that you almost felt guilty.

"you’re really this attached to pecan pie?" you asked, watching as he took slow, deliberate bites like he was savoring each one.

"it’s a masterpiece," he said, as if that explained everything.

choso is all about cherry pie, mostly because he likes the tint it leaves behind. after eating it, he’ll glance in the mirror and smile a little at the way his lips look stained, like a kid who got into something he shouldn’t have. sometimes, he’ll grin at you with his mouth still full just to make you roll your eyes.

"cho, you look like you just drank blood."

"cool, right?"

and then there’s sukuna. you have to physically stop him from turning a normal, innocent chicken pie into something… horrific.

"you can’t put human meat in it."

"why not?"

"it’s a chicken pie."

"so?"

you glare at him. he stares back, unbothered.

"suku, if i turn around and find out you’ve replaced the filling, i swear to god—"

he smirks. "you wouldn’t even know the difference."

"i would. you know why? because i would throw up."

he just laughs, because, really, who needs horror movies when you live with him?

[just-some-user-hunny]

The Cannibal bonded with a bastard targaryen reader ...

This is heavily inspired by @mangled-parasite writings on their yandere hotd stuff. I wanted to go more in depth about the relationship a bastard princess reader would have with the cannibal, because the dynamics could be so diverse and interesting. The cannibal is a really interesting dragon to me as well, he's not been tames nor shows any interest in it, so I always wonder what he'd be like with a rider!

(fem! Bastard princess reader X the cannibal)

. If you are bonded to him, he would be ruthlessly protective over you. He can feel every flicker of distress and discomfort from you, and he bares his teeth like a guard dog at whoever draws too close. Once he had decided that you were his, and he was yours, his fury when it comes to protecting you rivals hellfire. You will never have to feel fear again, nothing can even dream of touching you- lest they want to experience the nightmarish wrath of the Cannibal. It matters little to him if this threat is human, or dragon. In fact he almost welcomes it. He loves the rush of destroying whatever threatens you, the pride that fills him when he charres their remains and feasts upon them In front you- because look princess. Look how mighty he is, look how well he can fight and protect you. After his gory feast, he'll lower himself close to your little form for his praise- purring till your blood fizzles as he enjoys your pets and attention.

. Cannibal has never been a tame or passive dragon, but around you, he'll make an effort to behave. He'll stave away his urges to salivate when he captures glimpses of the smaller dragons, if it makes you happy. He'll heed your voice, your words, if only to amuse you and keep you content. However, he still has a temper- and although he may not engulf everything with wildfire, he will surely growl and roar to make people bend their knee in your presence. His bond to you is tightly knitted, so he can pick up those who are irking you or upsetting you. He shares your hatred for your father, often bearing his frightening jagged teeth at the pale man who can only endure the monstrosity of his daughter's dragon. It'll take only your word to engulf him in burning emerald flames, so for once, your father will hold his tongue.

. He is not an obedient dog, more like a feral alley cat who's taken a warming to you. There's not a force in heaven or hell that can convince him to confide anywhere near the dragon pits, not to mention his monstrous size cannot even imagine squeezing itself into that little ditch. He'll take to sleeping upon the beach, preferably away from vhager, if he wants to remain close to you. However he is known to fly off and disappear for days on end, returning when you least expect it. He is a wild dragon at heart.

. He may not melt into a big passive puppy, but he will surely let you know he likes the attention you give him. He'll croon with his snarling scarred grin, his eyes glinting as you speak to him and stay close. The attitude he has around you is stark like night and day- with others he glares ferociously and mean, but with you, he's bound by your heels.

When you approach him upon the sand of the tide, he'll lower his head to gaze upon you. he'll feel content as he looks you over, appearing docile and calm in your presence.

Your family find it terrifyingly odd whenever you approach him with so much casualty, and he simply looks at you so fondly. The dragon who has devoured oh so many wannabe dragon tamers is now treating you like a precious little treasure, and it's both awe-inspiring, and frightening. His striking emerald green eyes focus on you as you speak sweetly and softly to him, his purrs can be heard from the dragonstone gates.

. The cannibal is an ancient dragon with many years of experience, so to him, you are little more than a child in his eyes. His child.

If anything, he is more of a loving father to you than Daemon could ever be.

It's puzzling to him, at first. He has never possessed a single maternal bone in his body, having no objection to devouring unhatched eggs and even young hatched dragons to satiate his hunger- but perhaps he sees a part of him in you. That wildness to stray, the desperation to free yourself from the thorns of the targarians that dig deep into you. You may be a little gentle weepy thing, but the fact still stands. You want to be free. He can grant that.

As you claim him as a child, he'll watch you grow. Watch your face and hands become weary from the anxiety and ache of constantly being caged. You'll gradually become more and more beautiful, dripping in gems and jewellery and ornate gowns, but the sadness in your eyes hasn't changed since you were a tearful little child. He sees what they are doing- trying to keep you satiated with material desires, but he understands you deep down that nothing of that matters. You want to be anywhere else but here...

. He is an old dragon, and has a temper to him. His hunger for flesh and fire has not made him weary, and although he is scarred and withered, he is still towering in all his obsideon scaled glory. Emerald flames engulfing the sky as you ride upon his back, soaring above the clouds as pride and glory consumes him. He always despises the idea of being 'claimed' and ridden like some show pony, but he finds himself enjoying the company of his little human experiencing the rush of gliding through the heavens. He can feel your thundering heart, the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he dips and soars between terrific heights, and he can't help but grin a scarred and twisted smile, egged on by your delight of the views and freedom. Yes! This is freedom, my little princess. Let us not be chained by those targarians, this is what living is!

He certainly likes challenging you, obviously not to the point he puts you in any danger of course- but he'll dive at gut churning speeds to see what'll make you shriek. It's almost like He finds amusement out of it, perhaps getting a little kick out of challenging his rider. Once he has landed however with you safely back on the ground, he'll look at you with his gnarled smirk and expect just a little push from you. Don't take it to heart though, his princess. You'll get gently prodded and nudged by his snout to check on you to make sure you're alright. He is still protective over you, after all. His cruelty will not extend to your pain. Besides, you are more often than not riding him bareback, so he would never fly so recklessly that you'd get bucked off. Most of the time he's holding back, really.

. That is not to say that each time you climb upon his back that you will endure terror, because that is surely not the case. He loves flying with you, loves feeling your awe and wonder. It fills him with unbridled pride and ego. You can both feel freedom, and freedom is all he wants for himself and his rider alike.

. As his rider, you have a good chance of escaping the talons of your family. Who is to stop you? The mad prince, Daemon, and his blood wyrm? Cannibal could laugh at the mere thought of this deranged man challenging him with his little red pest. Even the one eyed prince and his ancient she-dragon, Vhagar, will be a welcomed challenge. When it comes to you, he'd do anything.

[ladymothbeth]

Homicipher OC

[ inspiration: lady dimitrescu ]

pretty woman

[ghouljams]

Okay… I hope this isn’t weird but I really do love cannibal kinks and the symbolism of giving oneself to the other for them to live but also… I like it when they’re deranged as hell.

I remember you talking about Ghost and how he’d definitely survive the apocalypse by going to cannibalism when food runs out and you’re so, so right.

I want to say he doesn't even wait for food to run out but that would be a lie, the man is utilitarian to his core. He stockpiles dry food, canned goods, he butchers the cow and deer he buys from farmers outside the city, stores them in his deep freeze (the one with its own generator). He has meat for months, rations for years, and yet as soon as shit hits the fan his shitty apartment in the city doesn't cut it the way he thought it would. There are too many people, too much noise, too much chaos. Not the sort he relishes in, the kind that crashes into buildings like a wave, attempting to shake their foundations like the horns of Jericho. It's a chaos he knows, the kind that always follows political upheaval, the kind that makes leaving the city feel less risky than sticking around.

So he packs what he can into his car, and to be fair he can pack quite a bit in there, and he gets the fuck out of the city. Takes the back roads, avoids highways and the city center. He pats himself on the back for getting something suited to rough terrain, remembers Soap complaining that he was bringing the military home with him. He finds a cabin out in the middle of the woods, remembers seeing a listing for it on some bnb website while the internet was still up, and hopes no one else had the same idea.

He avoids opening the freezer he managed to stuff in the back seat, digs a cup into a sack of beans, eats them just barely cooked while he checks the ropes on the generator strapped to the top of his car. He chews on jerky while he drives, tries to remember the farms in the area, reasons over whether or not he could nab a cow even just for the milk. Considers setting rabbit traps, nearly grabs a duck from a pond he drives past for the eggs, thinks better of it when he has the poor creature by the neck and isn't sure where he's supposed to put it in his crammed car.

All this to say he's fucking exhausted by the time he reaches the dark little cabin. Somehow all that sleep deprived insanity reaches a peak spotting your little sedan sitting between the trees, the flutter of someone peeking through the curtains... he hardly waits to unload his own vehicle before breaking the door down to see what a suddenly merciful God has granted him. Toys, he thinks to himself as you spit and kick and scream for someone to help, knew I forgot something.

The skin around his eye is starting to darken by the time he gets dinner on the table. Most of the fight went out of you at the promise of food, and you'd even been kind enough to help him get the freezer inside once he'd gotten the generator running. He'd have to get some of the trees around the place limbed up so the solar can keep it running, but he'll worry about that tomorrow.

"What's this," You sniff at the meat sitting nicely charred on your plate.

"Don't remember 'is name." Ghost smiles, the scars around his lips tugging the skin twisted. You grimace and push the plate away, your lip starting to wobble for a second time. "Eat," He tell you, "or it'll be you next."

You give him a long searching look, likely trying to see if he's serious. You must not like what you find, because you drag the plate close and start to pick at the meat. You do your best to hide the gag that nearly slips past your lips, choking down distinctly inhuman meat. Oh well, Ghost thinks, be easier to get you to eat it later.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Delicate

Sinister! Mark x GN!Regenerator! Reader

A/N: After -> this <- post by @kikiiguess, thanks for matching my freak on a catastrophic level!

⚠️Contains Comic Spoilers⚠️

18+ disturbing content

Synopsis: After escaping from the wasteland dimension, Mark has developed a concerning appetite... Warnings: angst, blood, injury, hurt/comfort, masochism, literal cannibalism, this is oddly sexual charged

It was way past midnight when you woke up finding the bedplace next to yours empty once again, starting to wander the barely illuminated hallways in search for your lover.

A few days prior he had finally returned to your dimension after weeks of absence - yet what exactly happened or how he was even able to find his way back remained a mystery.

All you were sure of is that he had returned a shell of his former self, completely driven by inferior instincts.

From what you could understand of the scraps of information he provided in between demented nonsense, Mark and several of his alters got stranded in a dead universe, with no access to food or water...

...so naturally, as time passed and their hopes of rescue were dwindling, their last option was to start eliminating each other in their desparation for survival.

Truth be told, you were almost 100% sure it was your Mark that made them all turn on each other in the first place.

You've had it all with this man, so you were confident to say it was definelty in his range of possibilities - though this was a new low, even for him.

Damn it, how many times did you tell him to not trust Angstom of all people?! He had been a pain in the ass in your dimension, and now you found out the hard way that goes for this one as well.

But sadly your boyfriend was a fatal combination of both greedy and bored - so being able to expand his empire across the multiverse seemed like just the kind of diversion he needed.

Maybe you if you had been more assertive, then none of this would've happened...

Not much later you finally run into him, hunched over the corpse of your comrade and holding a severed limb as his teeth scraped off the flesh. Witnessing carnage of this extent wasn't really new for either of you, but the context made it just so much more gruesome.

Ever since he came back he's nothing short of instable, however not in the way you were used to. It had always been subtle, well hidden behind a charming facade and skilled manipulation tactics.

There had been method to his madness up until now, but the isolation and sheer hopelessnes of his situation made the last remnant of his sanity slip away like sand between his fingers.

At times his mind conjures voices and other hallucinations, making him even more paranoid than usually. And more often than not he thinks that he's still trapped in that very same wasteland dimension. Well, back then his only solace was imagining himself back home by your side, and now it had become impossible for him to differentiate...

...not to mention, he seems to be plaqued by an aching hunger that can never be quenched.

The doctors claimed it was psychosomatic, caused by the trauma, and that he will most likely adjust to normal food again...

...and yet he hasn't gotten any better, no matter what you tried.

"Want some?" Mark's voice cut through the silence like shards of glass, and you shot him a both disappointed and sympathetic look before shaking your head. "Thanks, I'll pass..."

"I was just so hungry, you know?" You hear a bone creaking as he munches on it, and you feel like throwing up. "Always hungry...it never goes away..."

As much as it pained you to see him this way, in the end you prefer to have him like this than not at all.

Finding him here was no coincidence, surely. He always deliberately fled from your side, whenever this vile urge became too overwhelming. Harming you - the one and only person he evidently cared for - was out of the question.

The old Mark was still hidden somewhere in this delirious menace, you were sure of it...

...you just needed to find a way to lure him out.

"Come" you whisper softly, understandingly, yet also cautious - like you were trying to appease an unpredictable beast that could lash out without warning shall you make one wrong movement. "Let's go to bed."

For a split second a panicked aggression flared up in his eyes, although he didn't act upon the impulse he developed to ensure his survival. He mustered your outstreched hand suspiciously, as if not quite knowing what to do with it, but after a while of whatever his disturbed mind was contemplating, he accepted your offer.

You mutely led him the way back to your shared chambers, with him leaving a trail of blood from the carnage left behind. That's a problem for tomorrow you - or preferably someone else - to clean up.

Right now all that counts is being there for the man that would- no, has conquered entire civilizations in your name.

You owe this to him!

There was no use trying to reason with him about getting cleaned up, so you gently guided him onto the mattress and climbed in right after. Blood from his clothes, hair and skin was soaked into the sheets, drying into a deep shade of crimson. He was entirely covered in it, mixed with his own saliva as it dripped down his chin.

You cradled his face into your hands, pecking a kiss on the bridge of his nose before smearing the proof of his earlier slaughter into nothing but a fading red.

"I didn't plan to be last, I swear..." your boyfriend uttered as he wrapped his arms around your middle, his scruffy beard tickling the crook of your neck. "It just continued not to be me. Maybe I don't look tasty? I don't want to not look tasty..."

You let out a shuddered breath, continuing to let your fingers comb through his messy hair but getting tangled in the dried blood. "I'm just glad to have you back."

Mark had always cursed himself for being so pathetically attached to you. He never intended to fall in love, downright refused this foreign feeling long before he even understood them.

After having spent his whole life in solitude, indifferent to anything 'normal' people seemed to value, he convinced himself that it was actually a sign of superiority.

...and then he met you.

A plaything, a pastime at first.

Back then the GDA had messed with the pain center of your brain, so you'd be more effective in battle. After all, regeneration isn't helpful if you feel every single hit, especially after getting severely injured.

However those experiments came at a price - it caused the side-effect of mistaking pain for pleasure instead.

That's what makes the two of you such a great match: You can basically never break under the weight of what it means to be a sadistic sociopath's spouse. With you he can go all out, implement his dominating power without any consequences.

Who would've thought that the first battle he would ever lose was the one with his own heart?

In a certain way, that other dimension was better. Easier. Absent of any irrational social rules or confusing emotions he couldn't get behind. It was survival of the fittest - a concept he as one of the strongest beings in the universe was very fond of.

Back there, his lack of empathy wasn't consiered monstrous there - it was an advantage. Finally a reassurance that he wasn't broken or wrong.

He was the one that made it out alive, after all.

"How-" Mark's voice is raspy, wild eyes boring into your skull as his fingers tentatively wrapped around your neck. "How do I know this is real? Have you ever been real?!"

You were oddly calm despite being at a madman's mercy, but frankly you were used to it. He increases the pressure on your windpipe just enough to be uncomfortable, but you can feel the barely contained violence behind his grip.

Why didn't you think of this earlier? The solution is so obvious!

"...take from me and find out."

"...no." Mark's voice is firm in a brief moment of clarity. "No" he repeats, "I can't-"

"Why not?" You ask, tone almost offended that he'd reject your generous offer. If he wasn't currently slightly out of mind himself, he would've definetly called you out on this ridiculous behavior.

But his answer stands. There's lines even he does not cross, at least when it came to you. Hypocrite.

"Your folk has less than 50 pure-blooded Viltrumites left, and you just eviscerated one of them...but me? I can take it, I swear."

Your boyfriend had always shared the Viltrumite mindset that humans - except for certain individuals like you were one - are inferior creatures, not much different from cattle or vermin even. Many times he had hunted them for the sheer fun of it...

...but now he didn't even stop at his own people. If he continues, the Viltrumites will eventually turn against him no matter his royal heritage.

Things can't go on like this.

Maybe it's time for more drastic measurements.

"Stop being stubborn" you coo, invitingly batting your lashes but he shuts you up with a glare.

"No, you stop!" He rubs his face frantically, attempting to become at least somewhat clear-headed again. "Even your regeneration has limits. What if I-"

"You won't." Without hesitation, you dig your nails into your forearm, deeply enough to break the skin.

The sheer sight of it leaves him utterly conflicted, exasperated as he's sure once he gives in, he might not be able to stop himself. You see it in the way his hands tremble, barely hovering over your body, and his jaw clenching so hard that you hear his teeth crack.

You dare to cup his cheek, pouring all of your affection into the smile you gift him alongsdes with the essence of your very self. "I love you, Mark. And...I trust you with my life."

"Shit...why are you doing this to me...?" Mark carefully takes ahold of your wrist and brings it to his mouth, lips slightly parted as the intoxicating scent of your blood drings to his nostrils.

It's not the first time, and by far not the last.

Initially he's only licking across the wound, incredibly mellow as if he only wanted to clean it...

...but when the liquid finally graces his dry throat, he lets out a low growl and immediately straddles your waist, pouncing on you like a starved animal. He rips apart your sleeping shirt and lets his canines sink deeply into your exposed shoulder, tearing off the first layer of tissue.

You fail to suppress almost inaudible moans escaping your throat, having the love of your life causing you such delightful pain being almost too much to handle. And when his keen senses make him aware of your reaction, it only spurs him to go further.

"Ohhh..." he almost groans in pure ecstasy, ferociously covering your body in bites and craters of missing flesh. "You like that, huh? Nasty thing."

Mark's hands explore every inch of your body alongsides his mouth, the uncertainty of whether his next move will be mending or hurtful only adding to your excitement. He observes you intently, pupils blown wide by this sheer addicting deed.

His tongue forces your mouth open, the metallic taste of your own blood invading your senses. He can feel your pulse spiking up, as if that feeble little heart of yours wanted to remind him it knows exactly who it belongs to.

Good.

The others tasted so fucking disgusting. But you...

"Fuck" he panted against your skin, drunk on the feeling of having your mind and body submit to him so easily. "So fucking perfect...taking it all so good...it's like you were made just for me..."

Finally he could be as close to you as he deep inside always dreamt to be, and you were enjoying this twisted kind of love.

Part of you is now incorporated in him forever. Poetic.

After what felt like both an eternity and a flash of time, your boyfriend kissed a spot that had just healed for the last time, licking his lips in satisfaction and pulling away.

At long last, he was satiated.

Sitting up, Mark was practically beaming at you, with a look like you had hung the moon just for him. "Damn, babe" he cackles, the metaphorical fog around his soul finally lifting. "You're a freak, you know that?"

"Takes one to know one." You roll your eyes with a wide grin on your face, and the endearing sight makes him crash his lips over yours once again, sighing contently into your mouth.

Before you knew it, your boyfriend began trailing more sensual kisses across your body - from your neck down to your collarbone, chest and finally down your navel, making you shiver the further he descended.

A wolfish smile is playing on his lips as he settles between your legs, his teeth softly nipping into your thigh, mischievous eyes never leaving yours.

"Hope you're ready for dessert..."

[heartfullofleeches]

Creep Yan would definitely let Cannibal Darling take a big juicy bite out of them

Totally not a cannibal Reader: You've put some meat on your bones recently... Haven't you?

Creep Yan: y-you noticed? I've made some..changes to my diet recently. You could bite my cheeks like a peach, haha.... Speaking of eating.... What are your thoughts on consensual cannibalism?

Totally not a cannibal Reader: ..... [Takes a step back]

Creep Yan: Wait!- before you freak out, I read your journals, I know you want to eat me- It's okay~ i think its the most romantic thing anyone could do to me

[Totally not a cannibal Reader starts gathering their things]

Creep Yan: I-I-I know about the others! I'm not even upset you went after other people before me - They probably tasted terrible anyway. Willing meat would taste so much better- why don't you have a taste?....