sinabunzie

[sinabunzie]

Big bad wolf

[sinabunzie]

Yandere Octopus Siren oc Vio x Reader

Tw: Mentions of drowning, yandere tendencies.

"Whatever you do, don’t go near the lake on top of the mountain."

You asked why, again and again, but no one ever gave you a real answer. Only fearful glances and hasty distractions. And yet, every night without fail, you heard it. Singing. Soft, melodic, mournful. A lullaby that seemed to curl through the trees and wrap itself around your heart.

Each year, the song grew harder to ignore. A gentle call that awakened something inside you. Once, you dared to ask someone else if they heard it too. Their expression twisted with fear before they quickly masked it with a forced smile.

"Don’t be foolish. There’s no singing at night. Now run along, and remember: never go to the lake at the top."

But now, as an adult, you lie awake, restless. The song still plays, clearer than ever and closer than ever before.

"I can’t do this anymore," you whisper to yourself. "I have to know… or it’ll drive me mad."

Throwing on a coat, you slip into the night. The forest feels different. Alive, watching. The higher you climb, the louder the song becomes. It isn't just beautiful anymore. It's intoxicating. A voice that feels like it knows your name. A voice that misses you.

When you reach the edge of the mountain lake, your breath catches.

A man floats in the moonlit water, glowing faintly under the silver light. His voice continues to pour from his lips, a haunting melody that tugs at your soul. His eyes. Sharp, predatory. Lock with yours. Yet his smile is soft, sickeningly tender. He stretches out his arms as if to embrace you.

And then, your body moves on its own. Step by step toward the water.

The closer you get, the less you care about the warnings. The less you remember why you were afraid.

When the cold lake laps at your ankles, he moves closer. And when his arms. no, not just his arms, but also his tentacles wrap around your body, do you finally feel it:

Danger.

"Too late~"

The soft expression on his face fractures, replaced with a wild mania. A flash of white sharp teeth. A shiver down your spine. And then.

Memories flood back, unbidden, unraveling before your very eyes.

A boy. Bleeding by the lake. You patching him up. Days spent playing at the very same lake. Laughing. The two of you promising to be together forever. A ring that's delicate yet cold slipped onto your finger. Your smiling face, thinking nothing of it nor its unforeseen consequences.

Then darkness. Cold. Water swallowing you whole.

Your lungs burn. Your mind reels.

“Welcome back, my beloved,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. His voice is both music and madness.

"You promised you'd be with me forever. Let’s make sure it stays that way this time."

[sinabunzie]

Yandere Octopus Siren oc Vio

Octavio. "Vio" for short is a quiet, timid siren hiding a dangerously obsessive love. You unknowingly marked yourself as his, and now there’s no escape. Vio will follow you to the ends of the ocean, clinging to every breath, every heartbeat ready to drown in your love, and drag you down with them if that's what it takes to keep you.

[sinabunzie]

Yandere Mafia Boss OC Carnifaix x Reader

Tw: mentions of death and mutilation, yandere tendencies.

After years abroad pursuing your education, the mounting weight of debt finally forced you to return to the city you once called home. The place was louder, faster, and colder than you remembered...

Luck, it seemed at least at the time, was finally on your side. A surprisingly affordable apartment in a prime location practically fell into your lap. The landlord said it was part of a "special sale," and though it raised a brow, you didn’t question it. You were too grateful, too tired. You just wanted to start over.

Unpacking your few belongings, you began reaching out to old acquaintances, rebuilding a social circle, and even landed a solid job faster than expected. For a moment, things felt... hopeful. Normal.

But normal didn't last.

It started small. Minor inconveniences you brushed off. A broken window lock. An item missing, then reappearing days later. Flowers left at your door with no name. Innocent enough. You told yourself it was nothing. You tried to believe it.

Then it escalated.

The sense of being watched became impossible to ignore. You came home to find expensive gifts you never bought, cryptic love notes tucked under your pillow, and roses—always roses. Desperate, you scoured forums about how to handle a potential stalker and discovered posts warning of hidden cameras in gifts, tracking chips. You searched your belongings, and to your horror, found one.

You called the police. They dismissed you. Brushed it off. In fact, they seemed like they were deliberately avoiding action.

You knew then, you weren’t just being watched...

You were being hunted.

You tried to save money to leave, but everything started to unravel. Your job vanished overnight, the company suddenly shut down without explanation. One by one, your friends stopped replying. Some disappeared entirely, faces you recognized now staring back at you from missing person flyers. One you grew close to... was found mutilated beyond recognition. The news blurred the images, but the horror couldn’t be hidden.

Lastly your freedom was taken.

It happened so fast. One night, you came home, and he was there.

A man you didn’t recognize... but he knew you. Oh, how he knew you.

Time may have changed you, but not to him. Not to the boy who once sat behind you in class, who watched your every move, memorized the way you fidgeted with your nails when nervous. just like you're doing now as you stare at him in completely immobilizing fear.

You didn’t remember him, but he remembered everything. He spoke with a twisted tenderness. How easy it had been to pull the strings. To manipulate your university to bleed your wallet dry, to orchestrate the apartment "deal" so you’d fall right into his hands. How generous he had been to clean the "filth" from your life. Their meat and organs, he said with a cold laugh, wasn’t even good enough to sell for his black market operation.

But you. You were special. Precious. And now, you’re his.

There’s no escape. No help. No city left to run to. Just him. And the home he's prepared for you.

"Welcome home~"

[sinabunzie]

Yandere Doll Maker OC Vincent x Reader

Tw: Yandere tendencies, drugging.

Vincent was never someone who mingled well with others. No, people were messy. Loud. Imperfect. He preferred dolls.

Dolls were quiet. Obedient. Perfect.

He spent his days in the dim amber light of his little shop, dressing them in hand-sewn gowns, lace-frilled sleeves, layered petticoats, intricate embroidery only a true artisan would notice. He sat still for hours, staring into the glassy, vacant eyes of his latest creation. They were lifeless—just like his own. And still, even they were wrong.

With a soft sigh, he looked up at the wall of shelves, each lined with near-identical dolls. All of them patterned after the same muse. You.

But none of them could ever compare.

"They don’t even come remotely close,” he muttered bitterly, glaring at the pale porcelain face in his hands. “What a disgrace… If I can't match their beauty, if I can't capture her soul, what's the point?"

With a click of his tongue and a flash of rage, he threw the life-sized doll to the ground. It landed with a hollow thud, limbs twisted, expression still smiling, mocking him.

He sat there for a moment, fingers brushing the ends of his long onyx hair, lost in a haze of frustration and desire.

Then…

*chime!*

The bell above the shop door rang gently. His muse had arrived.

Vincent straightened himself quickly, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves. There was only one person who came into his shop at this hour. And no matter how cold his synthetic heart had become, he wouldn’t miss this moment for anything.

He watched silently from behind the counter as you strolled through the aisles, eyes wide with wonder at the myriad of handcrafted dolls that lined the walls.

You didn’t know. You couldn’t know.

That the man standing just feet away had stolen the very essence of humans. Their movements, their laughter, their warmth—and locked it within these silent things. That every doll that stared back at you was a fractured soul, captured and sealed forever.

He watched your expression, breath catching. The way your eyes sparkled when admiring his work, it was almost too much to bear.

You were perfect. A living masterpiece.

And he didn’t know how much longer he could wait.

His fingers twitched, a bad habit when he longed for something too deeply.

"You always come into my shop around this time,” he finally said, stepping out from the shadows. “Yet never seem to buy anything.” He loomed over you, pitch-black eyes locking onto yours. “You’ve piqued my interest, my muse.”

Unfazed, you turned to him with that same gentle smile. “As an artist, I can’t help but admire your creations. They inspire me to finish my own pieces. You always have something new every week.”

He hummed. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.

"That’s… lovely to hear. Truly. But, as a fellow artist…” he leaned in slightly, voice dipping to a near whisper, “would you care to see my secret project? I can't seem to get it quite right. It's missing… something. Or rather, someone.”  

You blinked, curious. “I’d love to! It’d be an honor!”

You didn’t see the trap hidden beneath his sweetened words. Didn’t see the hunger in his eyes as he led you to the back of the shop, unlocking a heavy door with a brass key that clicked far too loudly.

You froze.

The room beyond was a gallery of horror.

Dozens—maybe hundreds—of dolls. Each one a replica of you. Every mole, every strand of hair, every expression etched into porcelain with obsessive detail. The air was thick with varnish and something else—something sickly sweet and wrong.

Your body screamed to run, but your feet wouldn't move.

Vincent turned to you, holding a long, thin needle filled with a glowing blue liquid.

“They're not perfect,” he murmured, voice almost reverent. “But now, with the real doll in my grasp… I think I may finally be satisfied.”

You stumbled back, spine pressing to the cold wall. Your breath hitched.

Then he reached for you. Not roughly, but with a disturbing tenderness tilting your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes.

Pools of pitch black swallowed your reflection.

“All you need to do is sit pretty for me. Never leave my side.” He whispered, his voice a syrupy blend of obsession and devotion. “I'll dress you in the finest silks. I’ll give you everything.”

The needle sank into your skin.

You gasped, but your body was already giving way, limbs turning heavy and unresponsive.

As you sagged forward, he caught you gently in his arms, cradling you like the most precious of his creations.

“You’ll see,” he murmured against your temple, smiling softly. “No doll could ever compare to you.”

[sinabunzie]

Yandere Doll Maker oc Vincent

Vincent is a yandere synthetic doll maker and part doll himself. Obsessed with perfection, he spends his days building lifelike dolls in his workshop, each more exquisite than the last. But none are ever enough. His greatest ambition isn’t to make the perfect doll it’s to possess it. And in his unblinking souless eyes, that flawless, precious, oh so perfect doll is you.

[sinabunzie]

Hello & Welcome!

My name is Sin and welcome to my blog! I mostly draw and write about my oc's (although I'm rusty as heck for both.)

Since this blog is just for fun and doing things I enjoy and will mainly center around yandere stuff.

feel free to ask me & my oc's anything or draw my oc's as long as you credit me, I would also love to see it if you do!

Hope you enjoy your stay here!!! ^v^

OC's / Links

💛 Iezeal the fallen angel cult leader

💛 portrait

💛 introduction story

💚 Carnifaix the mafia boss

💚 portrait

💚 introduction story

🤎 Vincent the synthetic doll maker

🤎 portrait

🤎introduction story

💙Vio the octopus siren

💙portrait

💙introduction story

<stay tuned for more>

Heads up some of the posts don't show up under their main tags

[sinabunzie]

Bros cooked

[sinabunzie]

Relationship where you're my God and I'm your favourite (and only) follower

[sinabunzie]

Yandere Fallen Angel Cult Leader OC Iezael x Reader

Iezael, the Fallen Grace.

He was meant to be perfect.

An angel sculpted from divine light, untainted by desire, forged for purity and obedience...

But something went wrong. A flaw, a flicker, a forbidden feeling...

And it grew.

What was once devotion twisted into obsession. Slowly, madness crept into his sanctified mind, and Iezael turned his gaze not to the heavens, but to you.

Branded impure and cast out, he renounced his God, calling the divine a liar, a fraud. To him, there is only one true deity now.

you.

The mortal he was once sworn to protect. His guardian duty morphed into worship, then possession.

Exiled from paradise, Iezael sees not punishment but purpose. With stained wings and a holy hunger, he sets out to rewrite the scriptures, every verse soaked in your name. A new gospel, a new faith. One where you are the center, and he, your eternal sentinel.

He calls himself your true guardian angel, the only one who sees your divinity. He whispers promises of a paradise just for you.

A paradise built from devotion, sealed with sin. A gilded cage where you’ll be adored, worshiped... and never allowed to leave.

Forever cradled in the arms of a fallen angel who would tear heaven and earth asunder just to keep you by his side. For now and always even in death.

"My one true light."

[sinabunzie]

Carnifaix's outfit ref w/color c:

[sinabunzie]

OC Hybrid Mafia boss

Carnifaix is a yandere hybrid mafia boss who runs an illicit meat trade on the black market, and may or may not have been your silent, obsessive admirer from your school days, the one who never stopped watching...

[sinabunzie]

OC Sketch

Iezael a fallen yandere angel who may or may not run a cult :]

[sinabunzie]

EYOOO

first post