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[pinechild]

I was watching Hazbin Hotel and I saw Alastor's design and I thought I've never seen a yandere story about a deer monster... So could you do that, please?

I’ve never watched Hazbin Hotel, but I do like what you’re thinking, anon. I’m rusty when it comes to writing full blown fics so go easy on me chat 🫡

Antlered, Stalking

◇ Gn! Reader

◇ Summary: You get lost in the woods after a heavy downpour washes away all of your markers to get back to your car, leaving you open for a yandere deer beast to ensnare you in his grasp. He thinks he’ll keep you - his newest mate.

◇ Warnings: horror themes, yandere themes, stalking (obvi), non consensual licking + touching, mentions of dead animals, entrapment, slightly suggestive, bugs (?)

Torrential rainfall would be perfect for you, especially in this time of year, under different circumstances. But now—as your hair sticks to your face, cold and damp, your heart clamored in your ears; It was anything but.

Fear injects itself into your gut—its frigid and decaying fingers piercing right through your stomach and making its presence known to your bloodstream as it spreads its digits. The makeshift chalk markers you made on multiple trees instantly washed away once the storm rolled in, leaving stupid little you, lost.

It’s almost as if you were frozen in time, not hearing the rain harshly slapping against the leaves, or the sound of your own breath leaving your lungs—not even the sound of wet underbrush being squished somewhere off in the distance. Anxiety has your mind clouded in a thick miasma, riddling itself with possible solutions to try to get you back to where you came from and into the safety of your beat up car, survival fully switching on in your brain and making your thoughts race.

In retrospect, you knew this wasn’t a good idea from the start, but human as you are, your own arrogance was your hubris—believing that since it’s never happened to you before, it’ll most likely not happen to you now. As if the stars were smiling upon you and bestowing upon you fortune for seemingly being on good behavior as of late.

Oh how you wish you could slap the fuck out of your past self right now and got proper markers.

Cell service was pretty much moot as an option—you knew that, even the most beginner of hikers (those with half a brain, anyway) knew this fact. The forest in this area was just so thick that it would be mere impossible for any radio waves to pass through. So, the next best thing is—

Your body in an instant—and almost unconsciously— fiddle inside your pockets, methodically searching for something like a well oiled machine before you hunch over, letting the rain drum against your back and bead off of your jacket in attempt to not let a single drop soak the inside your bag. The only sounds you can soak in are the rustling of cloth, zippers closing shut, and the rain that continues to beat on your back until your fingertips finally bump into the item you’re looking for: your compass.

You cant help but a little flicker of hope spark inside you as you pull it out.

With a slight tremble of your fingers, you lift up the compass, breath bating as the needles slightly jerk from its magnetic pull. The slight anticipation gnawing at your chest.

However what you don’t expect is for the needles to instantly spin precariously at a rapid pace, as if it was a dog chasing its own tail, going round and round and round. In your eyes (in the most irrational of case), It’s almost like it’s taunting your situation, and fears gnarled fingernails scrape against your gut, tugging it down as you spend more than one second thinking about it.

What the fuck? Is this thing broken? How?? Didn’t this work before?

Hot, acidic bile stings at the back of your throat, your mind screaming at you to move amongst the sea of questions ruminating.

Biologically, the human brain tends to react in a sequence of events when danger is present in its environment: Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. And your brain, in this case, instantly makes your legs move—uprooting your feet from the muddy earth. Flight it is.

You know partly how you came to this spot in to where you were now, so in a snap decision you decide to retrace your steps to the best of your abilities—better than staying in one place with a broken fucking compass. And god forbid it gets dark, you don’t think you could follow the stars with all this cloud coverage in the first place (not like you could anyways but it that was neither here nor there)—

Along with the nonstop pour, mud squelches and plops under your shoes, the cold starting to nip at your fingertips. The only thing right now your mind can focus on is just getting out of here—your eyes scanning for any wildlife as you move through the dense forest floor, trying your best to avoid rocks or uneven earth. But, the more you try to retrace your steps….the more you feel an uneasiness prickle at the nape of your neck; hairs and goosepimples uncomfortably standing on end.

…

Are you being followed?

No, that’s not possible. You were the only person here from the last two hours—matter of fact, you didn’t even see any wildlife skittering about during that time either, and that strikes you as odd. Rain or not, there was bound to be a couple chipmunks scampering in the undergrowth.

A dreadful feeling swirls inside you at that thought, blooming inside you along with your throat getting uncomfortably dry—something’s wrong here.

It’s then you hear a cry in the distance, echoing even through the thickest of bramble—an eerie, grating sound, one that mimics decrepit metal doors opening on rusted hinges. It’s a familiar sound, but foreign at the same time. What is it? Why does it itch at your brain so much?

Until it hits you: It’s an elk.

That chilling sound like it belongs in a horror movie, scraping at your ears like nails on a chalkboard every time you heard it. You recognize it now.

It’s odd though, you don’t remember any elk living in this forest before, but, maybe you were just lucky to have never heard its cry during mating season. Who knows. But, right now you can’t think about that right now—you need to move. An elks bugle shouldn’t shake you up this much as it did. You have to go. Now.

You continue your trek, trudging your legs along as your lungs shake with each exhale. That unnerving feeling of being watched sticks in the back of your mind, making you pick up the pace. You try to ignore the elk’s bugling getting louder and louder with each step. Even still, the sound unsettles you. Maybe, in the best case scenario, it was just your paranoia getting to you, playing tricks on you to think you’re in more danger than you already are—at least that’s what your anxiety riddled brain likes to think.

But the more you thoughts stew on it, the weirder it gets: You know you remember there’s no elk in this forest—you remember the first time you hiked here and the guide saying something about watching out for bears and the occasional wolf—but never about elk. Not that they were dangerous to humans anyways but still—they were never mentioned among the list of what you would see on the trails, that you remember.

And not hearing multiple elk during mating season is strange in itself, how come was there only one? Not to mention you’ve never even seen any on your hikes—ever. And to see there’s no other wildlife besides the elk? The compass spinning in all directions? The sickening feeling of being watched, possibly stalked?

It’s weird. It’s weird and it’s not just your imagination.

Something is deeply, deeply wrong here.

Bone scrapes against wood, and on instinct, you run into a full sprint.

Ignoring how the mud splotches onto your clothes, your throat clamps shut as adrenaline surges your veins heart thundering in your ears obstreperously, rattling your eardrums and breaking your skin into a cold sweat.

In the most logical minds, one would know that it was just the elk rubbing its antlers on a tree as its mating habits, that it’s nothing to worry about—but you knew it wasn’t the truth. The sound of anything other than the rain and your bones creaking under your skin wasn’t natural. It didn’t belong here.

And what’s even worse is the thrashing of underbrush quickly catching up behind you. Your vision almost becomes dizzy with how much adrenaline is pumped into your bloodstream and panic settling in to the marrow of your bones. The haunting, metallic bugle of the elk dwarfs your heartbeat, looming over you. The acid of the bile pools in your mouth, stinging at your tongue and almost making you wretch. You gotta hide! Need to—

Your chest harshly lands on the waterlogged ground, effectively knocking the wind out of you as mud cakes your face and chest. Unnaturally large hands wrap around your waist and that creaky, hollowed bugle rings right beside your ear. Choking on your breath, you dare to crane your neck to look over your shoulder, body trembling as you cough and wheeze your way to breathe again. The sight alone makes eyes go wide at the first glimpse on what towers above you.

What you see, is no ordinary elk, but a monster. One with antlers strong and pointed, reaching towards the heavens and branching out to the point where the two antlers almost touch—like tangled and twisted tree roots. Its head an elk skull, underneath the empty sockets lie human eyes, peering at you. You even dare say, undressing you.

Its upper body is like that of a human, save for the talon like nails that anchor your body down to the ground. As your eyes move down, however, you see the dirt caked fleshy skin transition into fur—one traditionally like an elk followed by hind legs and cloven hooves, chipped and worn with age. Natures twisted amalgamation of animal and human; a bastard of the unnatural.

It bugles again, softly this time, crooning. Almost as if asking if you like what you see.

And you want to fucking throw up at the implication.

The urge to scream and thrash away from its grip dies before it even begins like a snuffed out flame. An invisible force freezing your vocal cords, holding them captive as the creature leans closer, hinging its maw open to reveal a sleek, black tongue—licking you. Your muscles writhe beneath your skin.

“Mine.” Its voice is a rumble of thunder, rippling throughout your fragile bones as it—he—speaks. It’s a voice worn and booming; one that hasn’t been used in ages—at least that’s what you assume. Plumes of his breath appear in a smoke like cloud against the biting chill of the rain, tongue retracting back once its had his fill of licking all the salt and sweat from your cheeks.

Lifting your frozen body with a relative ease, he tucks you to his side, cradling your body in his hand as if he was holding a parcel.

In this moment, you can’t think. Everything’s happening so fast that your mind can’t even keep up, mentally grasping at straws at the how’s, when’s and why’s of it all. It’s like your mind is on a chairoplane—holding you just by the head as it spins at a nauseatingly rapid pace while you ragdoll through the air.

When the wind and rain whips at your face as he starts to move, do you notice how he weaves through the forest at a breakneck, inhuman speed. It dawns on you there was no chance of getting out of here to begin with.

The world, or rather, the reality you thought you knew, utterly shatters. Monsters are real—and you’re being kept by one, dangling in its grasp as it figures out what to do with you next.

Tears never seem to come from your glassy eyes, but you could feel them chewing at your optic nerve—a burning, sizzling tingle, something akin to a sparkler you used to play with as a kid on muggy summer nights.

Thinking about it, you’ll never be able to play with them again—or drive your car, or even complain to your friends about work. You never even got to tell your mom you love her after your fight.

You’ll never be able to do that again, you'll never able to do anything again, not while you’re in this beasts grasp. And the realization of that, makes the cavity in your chest clatter in a silent, violent scream. If your lips could move, you’re sure your throat would be rubbed raw by now, vocal chords utterly fried.

Too lost in your own despair, you don’t notice that the creature stopped running until you hear a light chuff above you. Raising your head at the noise, you see the mouth of a cave—a warm, amber flame casting ambient light along the jagged edges of the rocks. A deceptive illusion of comfort beckoning you in.

When getting closer, you see a string of dead rabbits formed into an almost perfect circle near the foot of the entrance, just mere feet away from the kindling fire. A gift? An offering of some sort? Well, you don’t care either way, it’s not like you’re going to take it.

The monster sets you down, whispering a soft hum in some sort of satisfaction, probably because of its successful attempt at catching you. His eyes, dark and lifeless, resembling the bottomless void, follows the way the flames mold to the planes and soft curves your face, drinking in every pore and detail of you.

You try not to focus on him or the stench of the rabbit corpses assaulting your nose, all you can do now to keep your sanity is to just stare into fire.

You hear shuffling, fur chafing on stone as he gets closer, jaw chittering as his tongue slides along your neck. It's oddly warm without the rain nulling your sense of touch, but it does nothing to help from the familiar taste of bile from swelling in your throat.

“Mate. Mine.” His large hands resting onto your stomach, fingers creeping under the layers of clothing to get a mere touch of your naked flesh. Feeling him touch you like this feels like bugs are wriggling underneath your skin, wiggling and writhing in disgust. You want to pluck them out, get rid of this nastiness tainting your body and scrub at your skin until you're red and bleeding.

A gargled sense of a moan creaks out of this throat.

“Love. Breed.”

Your stomach drops to your ass, knowing your fate was already sealed with just those two words.

On its own, your body shakes as he purrs, bone snout nuzzling into your hair. The nauseating reality of you never being found again or even being able to see the outside world weighs on your tongue like stones. It makes you sick—want to scream, curl up into a ball and wither away, letting the cave centipedes eat at you down to the bone.

And it’s all because of those fucking markers.

[pinechild]

Yandere! Backrooms Entity x Reader

—> Gn!Reader

Warnings : yandere themes, stalking, non-con touching, depersonalization, reader going a little bit crazy, overall creepy behavior

Yandere! Backrooms Entity not being able to move away from the scene, seeing you panic and heave through your delicate lungs stirs something inside them - an odd feeling they can’t categorize yet. Sure, they’ve seen humans (mostly unwillingly) enter this liminal plane as they pass by to travel to other realms, seeing them freak out and lose their sanity to only rot away on some corner - it didn’t matter to them or even phase them—helping out creatures who can only see in three dimensions was a fools errand on their part. But with you, it was different. They’re not sure how, but they’re willing to find out.

Yandere! Backrooms Entity watches you from afar at first, seeing you aimlessly wandering the empty, uncanny spaces as you try to hold on to your sanity. Your watery whimpers don’t go unnoticed, and rather, it makes their fingers itch to touch you, to comfort you and eat all the anxieties that ruminate in that fragile little mid of yours. Oh how helpless you are.

Yandere! Backrooms Entity gets bolder in their actions, getting more up close to you, smelling your hair and skin while you remain none the wiser to their presence, still locked on finding an exit to leave this transitional plane. But only if you knew you couldn’t; that your mere biology would never let you see such things, that you were doomed from the mere start you slipped away from your own reality. But don’t worry, they’ll take good care of you, they promise.

Yandere! Backrooms Entity that starts to touch you, invisible fingers caressing you through your clothes and massaging all the supple, delicate flesh your person has. It’s not your fault you can’t see a 6th dimensional being, nor the constant exists that litter around the place; it’s not your fault you can’t see them, they just weren’t made for you.

Yandere! Backrooms Entity can’t help but to keep touching your skin, seeing you squirm and look around in confusion with a pathetic whimper, feeling their presence burn holes into your clothes. Have you finally lost your mind? Are you watching yourself rot in real time in this inescapable, empty hell? Oh no, little one—they’re right here: you’re just at a biological disadvantage.

Yandere! Backrooms Entity that helps you keep your sanity by offering you foods you can eat and necessities they know humans need, all while you cautiously take them, fragile hands shaking like leaves. Without them, you’ll surely die and decay like the others — and the mere thought of that makes their insides surge with an acidic rage. They have to keep you alive, they just have to— Because the more and more they think about it—

They love you. And they want to keep you.

And maybe someday, they’ll even talk to you once they see you’re mentally fit for it.

And surely, y̴̳̆͗͒͗͛̽o̶̪͈͈̝̜͐̎̿́û̸̬̙͙̳̣̯͍͚̔̒̃͐̋̈̈’̷͚̈́͊̄̎̈́̅̃̾͗̾l̶̨̧̡̳͇͕̩͙͈̦͉̩̫̒̓̐͆̆̽ĺ̴̢̩̥̗̬̱͈̩̤̖͈͔̤̠̈́̀̈́̎̾͐̈́̊͆̔̚̕̚͜͝ ̵̢̯̼͑̄́͊͜l̸̗͉̺̗̗̬͈̉̃́͜o̴͇̲̥̍͠v̵̜̝̲̤̬̥̖͎̥͙̯̐̄̂͊̅̃ȩ̴̼̊͗̈̽́̓͐̽̓͐̌̕̕͝ ̶̢̞͉͇̩̠̙̟͍̦̦̞̻̫̎̈́̉̄͗̒̐́̅̋̄͘t̴̢̘̖̀ͅh̶̥͎̖͊͊̑͂̾̄̆̆͊͂̿̔̊̚͝e̸̯̜̣̞͉̟̬̼̭̹̦̩̥̯͑̌̅͐ḿ̵̝͔̥͇̜̀͜ ̶̞̯͔̲̻̍̃̌̌̍͛̀̅̏̓͝͠ͅb̵̲̗͓̮͍̮̅͑̈̚̕a̵̡̟͍̻̹̩̦͑̐͛͒̌͛̓̾̊͠c̵̻͍̙͓̥̳̓̉̑̕͘ḱ̴̛̪͇͕́̀̋͐̌̉̂̿͘.̷̧̙͕͎̯̦̮̮̱͗̀̌͊̌͊̄͊͛̌͝ͅ

[pinechild]

𝕽𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖔 + 𝕽𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖘

Hello! I’m Grimm and I do mostly self indulgent writings here. 25, and my pronouns are they/them. My fandoms tend to change, so keep on an eye on whats my fixation at the moment. All characters are written as 18+

Enjoy your stay and take a look around! Here are the rules ⮕

⸸ Make sure what reader you want or else it will automatically be gender neutral.

⸸ Please have your age in your bio, ageless blogs will be blocked!

⸸ If you have a specific scenario, make sure you’re clear and detailed (to the best of your abilities) of what you want or envisioned.

⸸ Please don’t rush me or spam requests, you will be blocked. I will take my time and write what I want as this is just a hobby for me.

⸸ Most of my writings will include chubby reader and probably *only* chubby reader. Don’t ask or complain about not having skinny readers because I don’t care - go cry about it somewhere else. Thanks.

⸸ Be nice or I’m giving you the spray bottle.

𝕯𝖔'𝖘 ￫

Yandere, horror, smut, monster/teratophilia, chubby! reader, light gore, dubcon, comfort fics

𝕯𝖔𝖓𝖙'𝖘 ￫

Incest, shota/loli, noncon/rape, heavy gore, bathroom kinks (poop, pee, etc), racist or any hateful shit + anything I’m not comfortable with

Current fandoms: Windbreaker (satoru nii), Castlevania, The Kid at The Back, 14 Days With You

Dividers made by @cafekitsune & @sister-lucifer

[pinechild]

May I request some gothic architecture themed divider ( with maybe some bats )? Please & thank you /nf

🦇Gothic Bat Dividers🦇

you can find some other bat dividers here

please like, reblog, & credit if you use!

[DIVIDER REQUESTS ARE OPEN!]

[pinechild]

MDNI BANNERS | gold + black.

( requested by → @frosts-intuition )

i guess you can consider this as an addition to my gold + beige mdni set? :D

i wanted to evoke more of a royal-feel to the colours rather than just simple black and gold. hopefully that came across. please enjoy 〜

please like, reblog, and credit 〜

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