#gn writer blogs

[purerae]

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YANDERE!JOCK X GN!reader // PT1

warnings ;; none (i think??) YANDERE!JOCK does not show much yandere tendencies in this part!!

╰────༺♡༻────╯

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who’s obnoxiously loud with his friends. Their table is surrounded with the soccer team. Their voices are 1/2 of the noise in the hall.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who overheard someone speaking about his team. “God, I hate them all. They’re so self centered! I wonder if they know that not everyone cares about soccer like they do.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who immediately frowns after he hears that. Someone hates him? No way he tries to be nice to everyone! He's so self centered?? He didn’t know that :(( (You were generalising but okay..)

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who attempts to find the source of who said those words and his eyes land on you. You were on a table with two of your other friends chatting and side eyeing his team. He’s determined to make you realise he’s a decent person!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who walks over to your table with a sad grin and puppy dog eyes but he quickly replaces it with a wide grin. “Hey I'm Alex!!”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who recognises you. You’re in his history class! You lent him a pen and he gave it back. He thought you guys had some solidarity going on but it turns out you don’t?

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who always thought you were attractive, You were cute and quiet in class, He never knew you disliked him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who notices you freeze when he comes up to you. Are you scared of him? Just because he’s 3x stronger than you and towers over you doesn’t mean he’s going to hurt you!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who wants to be your friend! He needs to have a good reputation with everyone in the school. With a pout he explains, “I can’t help but overhear you saying you hate me…did i do something wrong”

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who makes you feel a little bad for saying all of that. The way he’s staring at you makes it feel like he’s a high school girl who just got rejected by the love of her life.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who ignores the stares the other jocks give him, because he’s interacting with someone who’s talking shit about them. He doesn’t care! He needs to have a good reputation with everyone especially with his classmates.

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who sulks when you ignore him and he slowly walks back to his table. He’s not as excited as he was before. The teammates notice that and now they heavily dislike you. How dare you make the sunshine of the group sad!?! :(

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who never gave up. After english, you rushed out the class only to be stopped by Alex. He gives you a proposition. If you come to his next practice and hang out with him after, he’ll help you revise for history!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who frowns when you point out you have a higher grade than him. Come on! Just find him nice already!

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!JOCK who will not stop bothering talking to you, until you become friends! Your friends don’t like him so why doesn’t he bother them? Many people care for him but…why does he care that you don't?

“Trust me, Im not as bad as you think!!”

purerae<3

[miscellaneousdae]

[ 8:43 pm -> 4:27 am ] — Jeong Yunho ᡣ𐭩

(Just a little blurb because i’m down bad for this man rn)

Jeong Yunho is the kind of person to fall in love at first sight, but it has nothing to do with how you look. I mean, he thinks you’re beautiful, but it’s your aura. Your presence draws him to you, and when he speaks to you, it doesn’t feel like this is a man you just met, no. It feels like you’ve known him for years, unlike anyone you’ve ever come into contact with.

You immediately feel safe with him, comfortable in your skin. His sweet eyes and warm smile melt your heart, and you get so lost in speaking to him that you don’t even realize how much time has passed until he brings it up.

“It’s almost ten,” he says, sighing softly. The sigh seems somewhat sad, as though he may just be disappointed that the nights coming to an end, but also content, like he’s pleased with how he spent his night - you hope he is, as it was spent talking to you. “Can I bother you for your number? Or if that’s too personal, your instagram?” He asks, making you grin at how respectful he is and has been. Trusting him, and truly wanting to get to know him better, you give him your number, and wish him a good night.

While you can no longer see the man, his handsome face doesn’t leave your mind, and as soon as you begin to almost miss him, despite having just met him, your phone buzzes.

‘Hey, this is Yunho, the guy from the restaurant. It’s late but I was too impatient to wait until tomorrow to text you. So i’ll say goodnight and let you be. Enjoy the rest of your night. ❤️’

You smile widely at the message, and against your better judgement - the voice in your head insisting that you be responsible and go to sleep - you text him back. The two of you stay up way too late, as if you were teenagers and not adults. You don’t regret it, and neither does he. If only you could see just how big his smile is on the other end of the phone.

[fumiscripts]

🃁 IN THE SPOTLIGHT

fic masterlist . next chapter

You love the attention. You basked in it.

The ball slammed into the net, and people cheered. Cheered for you. It was another match where you hogged the spotlight, keeping everyone’s eyes on you. The adrenaline’s still pumped through your veins, and through the ring of all the acknowledgement, you catch the sound of the final whistle blowing, signaling the end of the game.

Your afterglow from that victory was too short for your liking. How disappointing. Then again, the opponents really weren’t all that.

Seeing the 6-1 in your favor was satisfying, though. All your goals. You expected nothing less from yourself.

That match was the regionals for the little tournament your team was in, and because of you, they’re making it to nationals. They should be glad you’re on their team. You, as their striker, practically carried them. In your opinion, the club would’ve been down the dumps if it weren’t for your presence. You found yourself hardly caring, despite it. As long as they continued their job of solely following you in the field, you’d gladly play the role of their savior.

After recollecting yourself, you trudged off the field. Everything that came after was a positive haze, a routine you’ve gotten used to, but can never get tired of. The praise from your teammates, coach, friends— to the present reporters pulling you aside to monopolize your time. Of course, you were ecstatic about the attention.

Microphones were shoved in front of you, recording every answer you gave out from their questions. Cameras flashed, and you gave your award-winning smile at every click of a photo. Amongst the blinding lights, you catch a pair of eyes staring at you. Of course, you knew there were always people staring at you— but this was different. She was assessing you. Perhaps a scout?

Whatever that look was for, you were sure it wasn't just a bystander staring.

You were right. It wasn't just a bystander staring.

〈 YOU’VE BEEN SELECTED FOR A SPECIAL PLAYER TRAINING PROGRAM.

– Japan Football Union 〉

The letter you received sure was interesting— why was it a letter, anyway? Couldn't it have just been an email?

But besides that, it was interesting. It was short and concise, with a brief explanation, a time, and a place in its contents. Very shady, but boredom really made you want to take it. It could be an opportunity for you to shine in an even brighter spotlight, an upgrade from a third-rate platform to the main stage. The location was very familiar to you, anyway, so this should be an official message.

You found yourself in the address given in the paper— a rather worn down building, but it was a place you grew semi-accustomed to— and entered the property. The halls were as plain as ever, you noted, as you stood in front of a set of dark double-doors. Opening it, you were greeted by what seems like an entire batch of people. Significantly more teenage boys in a single room than you can count.

Despite wanting to, you didn’t comment on it. You instantly felt their stares turn to you the moment you stepped into the room, and you remained unyielding under the pressure of the multiple gazes. In fact, you felt good that your presence was being seen, even more so when a good handful of them seemed to recognize who you were. You could say the vibes you gave off demanded attention.

“–Test. One, two,”

You heard a whisper through the speakers from who knows where, making you scan across the room to find where it came from. The moment you found it, though, you tried not to walk out the door right then and there.

“Congratulations, you unpolished gems,” the voice boomed through the room. Right at the same time, the lights closed, and a spotlight pointed towards the source: a lanky man who sported a bowl cut and rectangular glasses, Jinpachi Ego. Who, to you, was a very familiar face. “All you under 18 strikers have been chosen solely based on my criteria and biases to be here today. All 300 of you.”

You watched in silence as he introduced himself— really, you only watched, not listened— zoned out with most of his words going in one ear and out the other. He was saying something about making Japan capable of winning the world cup. Japan, winning, and World Cup in the same sentence was something you never thought you'd hear from someone like him. Is he being for real? Maybe you should actually start listening.

“I'll put it into simple terms,” it was then that you caught the projection behind him, showing the Japan flag. “Japan only requires one thing to become the strongest powerhouse in soccer,” he stated, bringing his arms out, in what you think is for adding dramatic effect. “And that is the creation of a revolutionary striker. From you three hundred players gathered here today, I will forge the best striker in the world through a certain project.”

He really talks a lot, you note. “Look here,” Ego prompted, stretching a finger up, “For this purpose, we have built a facility…” the projection behind him switched to a photo of a pentagonal-shaped infrastructure. “Called Blue Lock,” it was composed of what you could guess was five separate buildings, with a stadium in the middle of it. Above the image, ‘Blue Lock’ was a bolded text. A whole facility for this?

You tuned out most of the rest of whatever he was saying— something about living within the building, not being able to go home, and considering your football careers over— you didn't need much of those details, anyway. “If you manage to survive Blue Lock, and defeat the other two hundred ninety-nine players around you…”

Oh? That sentence made you stop tuning his words out. A last-man standing, huh?

“You, the last player standing… will have become the best striker in the world.”

Now, that got you interested.

“That is all for the details,” he remarked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and hunching over. “Nice meeting you all,” he concluded, ready to end it with that. That was, until someone within the crowd raised his hand, retorting his speech.

“Hey! Sorry, but,” he put his hand down. The boy had blond hair, eyebrows stitched together into a frown. You notice that he seemed to have a friend beside him, a guy with black hair and blue eyes. “I can't agree with what you said just now,” he says. He tells of how he can't accept the terms, likely because of the nationals. You can't blame them— if some sketchy man you didn't recognize put you together in a room with hundreds of others, all the while spouting some rant about making the best striker— you'd be skeptical to go forward with it, too.

His words seem to put the crowd on his side. That wasn't surprising, he had a valid point. You watched as they raised their own thoughts too, before turning your gaze towards Ego, who scratched his head, before casually saying they were all fucked in the head, telling them to get lost.

Him and the blond guy had a back and forth. It resembled a heated debate on twitter, to you. Maybe your brain is just weird. Ego then proceeds to say how horrible the Japan football team is, to which you think he has a point. Compared to other countries, it is shit. Mister bowl cut then gave examples of exceptional players, linking them all with the same trait: ego.

The man almost looked like a lunatic— like he was someone who was absolutely insane.

You liked that look. It was something right up your alley.

“You will not become the greatest strikers in the world,” he prompted, an expression that seemed to cut right through all of you plastered on his face. “—unless you have the ego to match.”

Wow, you liked this vibe already.

“My purpose here, is to create such a player in Japan,” he added, lowering his head. “From the corpses of 299 players…” Ego brought a finger up as a gesture to his next words. “One hero will rise in all his glory,” he declared.

“Alright, you unpolished gems. Let me ask you one last question,” the noiret tapped on his temple, pointing to his brain. “Imagine this: you are at the very finals of the world cup,” he started. “Playing under the eyes of 80,000 spectators in the stadium… you are on that very field. The score? 0-0,” Ego added the details, and you noticed how most of everyone followed along with his words. “It’s the stoppage time of the second half. The very last play.”

“A teammate has managed to pass the ball to you. It’s a one-on-one with the goal-keeper,” the vision played in your brain, using the best of your imagination. “There’s a teammate six meters to your right. If you pass it to him, you’ll probably score that goal. The hopes of all of Japan lie on your shoulders. You are at a turning point at the world cup finals…” in your mind, you could see yourself kicking it in without reluctance.

You wouldn’t dare pass when the chance of scoring a goal was right in front of you.

“Without hesitation, you shoot.”

Of course you’d do.

Ego moves to turn his body, facing to the side. “If you desire that rebellious ‘egoism’...” the doors behind him opened, filling the room with light from what’s on the other side. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his free hand behind his back. “Then step through the gate,” a crazed grin stretched along his face. “I’ll say it once more, loud and clear.”

“Football is a sport to develop you all as strikers. Think of literally everyone else on the field as supporting you,” he pointed to the crowd in order to emphasize his point. “When you’re on the field, you are the star.”

Damn right you are.

“Your greatest joy is scoring points, and nothing else,” he said. “You live for the excitement of that very moment,” his grin got eerily wider, his eyes swirling with some sort of drive.

He was right with that. The sake of your goals are the only thing that gets your blood pumping in a game. Whatever drugs Ego’s on, you were starting to crave it, too. Even if you never thought you’d admit that to yourself. Maybe your past self was too judgy. He can be relatable, occasionally.

“Now that’s a striker, don’t you think?”

Suddenly, someone from the crowd steps out, rushing towards the gate— it was that boy next to the other guy that debated with Ego. He seemed to have enabled a chain reaction, as one after another, people rushed forward as well, before everyone was running towards the entrance, uncoordinated.

You knew better than to run along with the crowd and possibly bump into people, so you waited until most of them were a good distance away from you. And you say most, as in the corner of your eye, you spot someone walking the other way, towards the exit, with somebody else chasing after him. You ignored them.

Calmly, you strided over to the gate. You had no need to rush. As you passed by Ego, he spoke up, making you halt in your steps.

“I see you actually made it, [Name],” he remarked, making you glance at him. He was slouching, as always. Head looking down with his horrible posture. “Long time, no see.”

“Still the same as ever, huh, Ego-san?” you reply, adjusting the strap of your carry-on. You turn your head, fully looking at him. “You really gonna do allat?” you ask, referring to his earlier speech about making the best striker. It was a very ambitious goal, but since it was Ego, you could tell it might be possible. A lot less far-fetched if it would be you who remains the last one standing.

Ego nods. “Of course,” he answered. He leans back, looking at the ceiling above before heading to another topic. “You're here to be what the players aim to beat,” the man stated. You weren't sure whether you should be happy about the fact that he acknowledged that you're good enough to be the ideal model in this project, or be offended that he doesn't seem to consider you a contestant worthy of participating to be the best striker.

“Am I just here to set a standard for you?” you scoff, tearing your gaze away from him. You look back forward, walking towards the gates once again. “I’ll beat them all,” you state, confidence lacing your tone. “You know I will.”

He hums, muttering something incoherent under his breath. He tilts his head up, watching you move towards the door. “We’ll see,” he replies to your statement. “Prove yourself worthy of a main role, [name].”

You turn around, catching a glimpse of him looking at you with expectation. You raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging on your face.

“Don’t I already do?”

(a/n) tofumi is here with another fic. no, i'm not okay. I wrote this slop half asleep so mb for any mistakes.

I have plans for this fic TRUST. if you noticed, mc is a bit like gojo. I lowk wanted to try to do a cocky, extroverted mc because most of my mcs are introverted hhh

​​​​​​anw enough yap 👅 next chapter will be next year cause I still have more prep to do

thank you for reading!! 

taglist:: @atlas-atlantic, @shidousprincess, @lakeside-paradise, @shrii-kk

@neversam, @motchilyn, @tired-xyra-urstruly

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[totorolaughs]

GOJO x READER | MY BLUE MOURNING BIRD

cure!reader death , angst, smut, sexual content, trauma. gn pronouns, teenager! gojo satoru, anal sx, note: hi, I'm still on hiatus but I wanted to post this since its just rotting in drafts. I'll be out of hiatus I'll post moore ( smut..just pure smut /j) orignal on ao3; translator is @ihrtbrainz REQUEST - OPEN | CLOSED

The sun was bright as the wind howled the sound of leaves rustling filled the air, bright sky blue eyes gleamed as his eyes locked in with yours. you felt a smile tug on your lips warm as a summer day, your fingers entwined with one another as you stroll in sync – side by side, the air was fresh as it could be the warm feeling of your fingers interlaced creating a comforting feeling within each other.

“Your eyes are as pretty as a morning blue bird, Satoru.” He laughed “Oh shut up! That's so cheesy, man!’ Satoru loved cheesy and cringy.

The sky turned gray and the now dark clouds cried. Satoru now stood in front of a grave. The grave was poorly taken care of and destroyed by age. He fell onto his knees as his fingers dug and crawled into the mud the tears of the clouds created.

Satoru sat up from his bedding in a cold sweat, rubbing his eyes as his breath heavy. He wasn't able to sleep after you disappeared, it kept him up at night even when he was able to fall into a slumber that didn't help since he suffered from dreams, which were more like nightmares than actual dreams. They would always begin in the same way as if it was a twisted game his own mind was playing on him; peaceful and comforting dreams would fill his mind before transforming into a depressing once peaceful dream filled with despair so heavy it would cause his chest to ache.

He opened his bedside drawer, blindly digging through it his fingers in the darkness of his bedroom brushing against numerous things until he felt it.

The polaroid picture your parents took of you and him when your days were still filled with bliss. You and Satoru were sitting in an inu cafe. A basset hound puppy got on top of Satoru's head as you both were about to get your picture taken by your parents.

The polaroid taken as you laughed which showed off your smile as Satoru smiled at the camera before the feeling of the puppy could register in his head just moments to late before the polaroid was taken.

He misses those days. He misses you. He misses the way you smiled along with the sound of your loud hyena-sounding laugh, as Satoru looks back on the fond moments he had spent beside you; his cheeks were no longer dry and were now a wet with his tears, A hiccup arouse from his throat as he tenderly ran his thumb on the polaroid.

Why did you have to disappear?

Was it him?

Satoru Gojo.

Was he the cause of your disappearance?

His stomach twisted into a tight knot as the thought of him being the cause of your disappearance. Why wouldn't these stupid thoughts leave his head? Of course he wasn't, why would his mind even come up with that possibility?

Is what he would tell himself in a pitiful attempt to block away that thought whenever he would look at polaroids he took of you it wouldn't make him feel better like his mother said but instead made him feel even more sorrowful.

Satoru thought about burning them and pretending he never had never ever known you, he attempted to burn a picture of you by holding it up to a lighter as soon as the corner of the polaroid caught on fire panic rose just as quickly it was lit just as quickly it was put out your face in the picture was burned into a charcoal black.

Never again.

oh how, he hopped you would come back.

he wants this to be just an awful dream he would awake from.

[crispy-armpit]

♱ 𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕲𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖉'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ♱

Welcome to my church.

My name is Adam, otherwise known as Father Greed. I am God's first creation, or as you mortals call it, the first human.

I am a being that is neither man nor animal. I am both serpent and a child of God- the deceiver to have granted Eve the forbidden fruit.

Evil or not, I am merely a convoy. I guide you towards the crossroads of love and obsession, and you shall choose how the tale goes.

So, I must ask you...

Which path will you venture down?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Yandere Rockstar (he/him)

General: a mysterious, world-renown superstar with a rough past. he writes his own songs and is the frontman of the band, Ares. he is an 'emotional omnivore'/overwhelmer, obsessive, masochist-sadist yandere.

Physical: 6'5/195 cm tall, tattooed & toned body, 6 ear piercings, 4 facial piercings, pair of nipple piercings, 5 genital piercings (yeah..), 9 inches

Part 1 Part 2

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Yandere Jock (he/him)

General: the star quarterback of your college's rugby team, the Panthers. he is extremely influential in the school & real world. he is an overprotective & clingy yandere.

Physical: 6'0/183 cm, shoulder-length hair when untied, slim-toned body with a few scars, 7 inches

One shot

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Yandere Sea God (he/she/they)

General: an ancient ocean deity whose origins are unknown. they are said to be the god of raging tides and safe travels, and have the ability to transform between any gender (prefers male form). they are under an ancient curse. they are a sadistic, possessive, self-indulgent, eliminator yandere.

Physical: 9'7/292 cm, very big muscle body, sparkly skin like a pearl, 18 inches (he has 2 of them..)

Oneshot

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Yandere Secret Agent (he/they)

General: a secret agent working for a mysterious government organisation specialising in supernatural threats. he is their most trusted employee. they are a cold-hearted, stalker, visceral yandere.

Physical: 5'10/178 cm, 1 facial piercing +1 tongue + 1 earing (there's a backstory i swear), slim-fit scarred body, 7.5 inches

Oneshot

Related Asks & Artworks

All

2k Special (Deimos & Liam Poly + art) reacting to y/n splitting watermelon with thighs ethnicities? chubby reader

Deimos

What he sounds like Carving your full name (art) Biting + head pats (art)

Liam

The morning after (art) Liam with a dominant reader (art) gyatt (art)

[melluvsuu]

“ 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐖𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 .”

back to masterlist

character : dazai osamu

context : dazai falling for readers who’s gender-fluid (could be read as female or male reader)

authors notes : I thought about this like at 4 am with one of best friends and told my mootie patootie (@riiwrites ) and the forced me to writer at gunpoint /hj

warnings : ooc, implied bisexual dazai (literally the reason why I thought of this idea LMAO), gender neutral pronouns/no gender mentioned, probably not even proofread,, the more i write about it seems to lean into afab!reader,,, yosano mentioned, lmk if I missed any!

,, 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓. 𝜚

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, you wouldn't think he'd short-circuit over the "smallest" change. you, the reader, identify as genderfluid. normally, you dress in a more masculine style, favouring suits and ties or sweatpants (if too lazy go dress up ‘formal casual’ and oversized shirts to hide your chest. however, after a hard-fought victory taking down yet another criminal organisation, the city decided to honour the agency with an invitation to a fancy party at city hall. the thought of dressing up for such a grand occasion made you excited, and you decided that embracing your feminine side for the evening wouldn't hurt.

a few days prior to the party, you and yosano went shopping together. she suggested the outing under the excuse of needing new clothes, but it was clear she just wanted to gossip. after hours of browsing, she picked out a simple dress—a simple yet elegant dark red gown with a daring slit up the side of the leg. to add an extra touch of style, she insisted you pair it with a black choker that contrasted beautifully with the dress. you, on the other hand chose a classic suit that hugged your body nicely, you chose to wear black heels (they only added like one inch to your height) and again for extra style you added a silver chain that went around your belt loops.

on the night of the party, you put on a little makeup, nothing much but enough to enchance your features. your hair, usually in a simple style, was styled elegantly to complement your look. as you glanced in the mirror, you felt a surge of confidence and anticipation.

arriving at the party, the atmosphere was electric. the chandeliers sparkled above, casting a warm glow over the room filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music. your colleagues from the agency were scattered around, mingling and enjoying the celebration. you spotted dazai across the room, his usual playful smirk in place as he chatted with a group of people.

as you made your way over, his eyes landed on you, and for a moment, he seemed to freeze. His usually quick wit and smooth charm faltered, and you could see a flicker of surprise and admiration in his eyes. He approached you slowly, his usual cocky demeanour replaced with genuine awe.

“well, look who came all fancy,” he commented on your appearance, “trying to impress someone with those charms.”

“not really, unless a certain person is, then maybe i am.” you replied back with a simple smile and small fade of red on your face.

He just hummed as he looked away, seemingly flustered by your comment.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at this sight, the ‘dazai osamu’, the ever-confident flirt, rendered momentarily speechless by your sudden appearance. What a sight to see.

authors additional note : ending kind of sucks ass but it’s okay

word count : 474

reposts are welcome but do not steal my work!

[fa1rydr3ams]

“Peppermint Kisses”

Boyfriend! Todoroki Shoto x Gn! Reader

| cw: fluff, suggestive themes, playful banter

| a/n: day 18; two posts today because tumblr keeps playing with me !!

| wc: n/a

The scent of vanilla and melted butter filled the cozy kitchen, mingling with the soft hum of holiday music playing from the speaker on the counter. You stood at the island, carefully rolling out cookie dough, while Todoroki stood across from you, his expression as serious as ever. He was wearing a snowman-patterned apron you’d forced on him earlier, and despite his initial protests, he hadn’t taken it off.

His mismatched eyes were fixed on the recipe card in his hand, his brows slightly furrowed. He looked as if he were deciphering ancient hieroglyphics instead of following simple cookie instructions.

“Alright, Shoto,” you said, hiding a smile. “What’s next?”

He glanced up, his expression softening slightly when your eyes met. “The recipe says to cream the butter and sugar, but… I don’t see any cream in the ingredients list.”

You let out a laugh, covering your mouth as he tilted his head in mild confusion. “It doesn’t mean literal cream, Todoroki. It means mixing them together until they’re smooth.”

“Ah.” His cheeks tinged pink as he set the recipe down, his lips parting in an embarrassed sigh. “I knew that.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, stepping closer. “Sure you did. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Standing shoulder to shoulder with him, you guided his hands to the bowl. Your fingers brushed his as you helped him grip the wooden spoon, and you felt him stiffen for a moment before relaxing. Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity, but you kept your tone light.

“See? Not so hard.”

“I’m not used to this,” he murmured after a pause, his voice low and thoughtful.

“Baking?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “No. This—spending time like this.”

The simplicity of his words struck something deep within you. Before you could respond, the mixer sputtered to life, sending a rogue puff of flour into the air. The white cloud drifted down, settling in Todoroki’s hair and across the shoulders of his apron.

You burst into laughter, clutching your stomach as he blinked, his face unreadable. “You think this is funny?” he asked, deadpan, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Absolutely,” you said, struggling to catch your breath. “You look like a snowman.”

Without hesitation, he dipped his fingers into the flour on the counter and dabbed a streak across your cheek. “Now you do too.”

“Hey!” you protested, swatting at him playfully.

His rare chuckle filled the air, warm and soft, and you felt your chest tighten at the sound. The two of you worked side by side after that, cutting shapes from the dough and arranging them on a baking sheet. It was surprisingly easy to fall into a rhythm with him, and you found yourself smiling more often than not.

When the cookies were finally in the oven, you leaned against the counter, feeling a quiet sense of contentment. Todoroki stood next to you, close enough that his arm brushed yours.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head to look at him, “you’ve got something on your face.”

He blinked, raising a hand to his cheek. “Where?”

“Here, let me—” You leaned in, your thumb brushing over his jawline in an almost teasing motion. His eyes widened slightly as you smirked. “Gotcha.”

Before he could respond, you closed the distance between you, your lips pressing softly against his. The kiss was warm and sweet, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. You could feel him freeze in surprise, but it didn’t take long for him to relax, his hand resting lightly on your waist.

When you pulled back, his mismatched eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of wonder and something deeper.

“Now you’re starting to look like you like baking,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

He let out a soft laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking into a small smile. “Maybe I’m starting to like something else more.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn’t let him off the hook that easily. “Don’t get cocky, snowman. We’ve still got to decorate those cookies.”

“Decorate?” he repeated, his brow furrowing.

You grinned, reaching for the tray of icing tubes and sprinkles. “Oh, you’ll love this part. Trust me.”

As the timer dinged and you pulled the cookies from the oven, you couldn’t help but glance at him again. His focused expression as he watched you work was adorable, and you found yourself wondering if every holiday could feel this warm, this bright, this right.

Maybe, with Todoroki, they could.

okay tumblr is truly getting on my nerves they keep eating my posts and not saving them so I hope this posts.

dividers by @anitalenia

[darlingdreadwrites]

Welcome to My Dollhouse!

about me: keeping this blog anonymous, but you can call me dar. im 19 and use she/her pronouns. i'm a multifandom fanfiction blog.

i recently made a marauders fanfic blog: fresitasmoribund

you can always dm me, i just might be too shy/busy to respond sometimes. literally talk to me about anything.

i wanna post fanfics of the fandoms im apart of before i really open up the requests, and you can look below for who i’ve written for.

in other words, yes you can make requests. keep in mind that i am in college and i’ve been getting my ass dragged by my work recently, so it might take me a bit. i mostly do character x reader.

here’s a list of characters i can write for

i don't write smut at the moment because i don't trust myself to write it well enough

works i've posted:

creepypasta masterlist

Paul Dano Riddler:

cam - GN!Reader || 1, 2, 3, 4

fandoms: creepypasta, gravity falls, the batman (2022), midnight mass, the last unicorn, magnus archives, twilight, marauders, mystic messenger, nevermore trilogy by kelly creagh, the boy

music: deftones, nicole dollangager, elysian fields, boa, mazzy star, the veils, a perfect circle, mook, matchbook romance, jack off jill, snake river conspiracy, ethel cain

[clown-gore]

Alarming Presence

Micheal Myers X GN!reader

•Micheal likes to follow you around after a almost killing you during halloween and you don’t mind it that much

The Shape of Haddonfield wasn’t prone to basic human emotions, save for the thrill that comes from preying on his victims. The rush and pure excitement of it all. Never gets old, and neither does his longing for it.

And as long as his emotions are fixed like that, programmed to be like that, he won’t be able to come close to explaining what bubbles deep inside of him when he sees you.

You, the only person in this god forsaken town, who never flinched at the sight of him. Many fought him, and he has the scars to prove that, but you didn’t, you just stood their with your determination seething inside of you looking straight through him.

Who knows, he might have ended you there and then if he wanted, but if it weren’t for someone jumping on him from behind trying to save you. You didn’t really need saving, that’s what he thought at least..

Micheal never really knew why you intrigued him so much. To him, you were just like anyone else in Haddonfield. Everyone bleeds red, everyone screams when a knife is seconds away from their flesh, and everyone drops dead the same. That’s the thing about death really, it’s equal. Yet Micheal felt like it was different when it came to you, maybe he thought he’ll finish you someday, one why or another, so it was like saving. Best for the last..

He liked that emotion. It’s different, yet fills him with the same satisfaction as does spilling blood. So came after that feeling, searching for more of it, but never coming so close, like an each you can’t really reach…

He settled on stalking you like he does with most of his victims. Never really close enough, yet not so far. He always lingered, just to watch. Observe, maybe.

You became his objective as the halloween nights ended and people went back to their semi-regular lives. He watched, and by watched, he looked at and noticed every detail no matter how small.

How you liked to crunch the dry orange autumn leaves under your footsteps, your lips and how you lough, or how you tried to hide a laugh when a kid tripped infront of you on the sidewalk.

Your eyes and how they sharpen you notice him.

How you get goosebumps from the cold, yet love it. How you care for animals, yet you kill every bug in your way.

You probably think to yourself; if he waiting to strike? Who knows…but he knows that you’ll not take action and he takes pride in that…

Do you enjoy his alarming company?, he thought, and even if you don’t, that’s not really his problem. The simple rush of following you everywhere you go keeps him on edge and it became his knew aphrodisiac

[metanarrates]

you got that genre and gender essay for us 👀

i might talk about gender in the hunger games a different time but right now im ready to talk about genre in it (FINALLY. sorry gamers ive been in the sludge for a while)

so one of the things that really struck me about the hunger games while reading is that it did not function strictly as an action genre story during the games themselves. the genre it actually seemed to be dipping into a lot of the time is wilderness survival. this is weird, for a couple of reasons.

for anyone unfamiliar with the wilderness survival genre, the underlying conflict tends to be rather slow-movingly paced. this isn't always the case - some wilderness survival stories do have limitations that force the plot to speed up - but in the vast majority of works I've seen, the main force the main character is working against is the slow-moving course of nature. there is a lot of time spent hunting, crafting, building shelters, tending to injuries. occasionally there are bursts of action, but the story is much more concerned with the daily work of solving more longterm survival problems than it is with more temporary threats. it's typically a story about endurance rather than urgency.

now, I like the genre just fine. I would even say suzanne collins does it decently well. the problem is that it doesn't actually suit the premise of the hunger games.

the hunger games is, on premise, a death game. for at least the first two books, the main setpiece of the story is the promise of the arena. it is a televised match where children have to kill each other for the entertainment of a crowd. this isn't a crazy uncommon subgenre or even main genre for action stories - there's a lot of story potential in forcing combatants to battle to the death against their will. my favorite novel, omniscient reader's viewpoint, has death game elements. when done well, it is tense, exciting, and asks questions about the culpability of both viewer and participants. oftentimes, the story's major theme is forcing the audience think about the way they may treat violence as spectacle. this is certainly something the hunger games also wants to do.

this premise carries a lot of intrinsic tensions. in a story where people are hunting one another in order to survive, the protagonist almost always is under threat, or nearly under threat, of being attacked. the tension of potentially having to kill adds another layer of tension. the demands of audience, in a story about violence as spectacle, serves to add another layer. the protagonist always has to look over their shoulder, to make sure that their audience can't hurt them if they become dissatisfied with the protagonist, and to be sure that they can fend off attackers at any given moment. to do otherwise, at least without justifying it, would be to undermine the logical stakes the premise introduces.

the end result, when done well, is a fast-paced action story with consistently heightened tension. you'll notice that this doesn't blend well with a slow-paced genre with a consistently low but omnipresent baseline tension.

through both games, again to collins' credit, there are a lot of high-tension action sequences. katniss does spend a good deal of time fighting, running, tensely hiding out, and dealing with high-octane environmental factors. however, I was consistently a little disappointed by how quickly a lot of these sequences ended. more importantly, I was confused by how often it would lead back into katniss skirting around the woods. she spends a ton of time fishing, hunting, chatting with allied tributes, scouting, and waiting around in a cave for peetas injuries to heal. the threat of the other tributes finding and killing her slips into the background. the audience in the capitol only matters occasionally. the minuitiae of surviving in a wilderness takes up major screentime. the threats intrinsic to the actiony premise stop being an immediate concern.

this inability to follow through on the established stakes totally kills my suspension of disbelief in the gamemakers as threats. very few people would be actually interested in continuously watching days-long, unedited livestreams of teenagers hunting and fishing and occasionally kissing. it doesn't make sense as a story about entertainment, because the events on screen would simply not be logically all that entertaining. the only reason the gamemakers don't act to force katniss towards more action is that collins plainly does not seem as interested in writing action. and that's really the root of the first two books' weird genre problem.

since collins seems to want to focus on wilderness survival rather than action, neither genre can properly shine. as a reader, i'm always feeling antsy whenever katniss takes a break to nap for a day, and I'm always frustrated whenever an an action scene is cut short instead of staying excitingly tense. the action stakes never feel believable to me because it seems like they only exist when the plot remembers they should. the survival stakes just feel like a tiresome chore in a story that should have much more urgent concerns. it's just a really weird choice. why write a death game story if you're often disinterested in the stuff the premise demands?

I also don't think that the rebellion/war story is done well in book 3, for similar pacing and tension issues (that book DRAGS in ways that actively undermine what it seems to be trying to do.) but this little essay has run on long enough. this has been a really longwinded way of saying "these books struggle a lot with tension and pacing and it makes them feel weird in how they play to their supposed premises," but I did want to approach it from a genre angle because that's what I was thinking about while reading. what is genre, after all, but a shorthand to communicate expected aspects of setting, focus, mechanical structure of a story?

[waywardwritesstuff]

Wayward hi!!!! 👀👀 I would like to request something 🥰 May I request some fluffy headcanons with a gender-neutral reader telling Echo that he's beautiful and telling Crosshair that he's special to them? 🥺✨ May the force be with you

Sorry it took me so long to answer this. I am terrible with my requests honestly

Telling Echo/Crosshair that they are beautiful

Echo

When you first tell him he stops in his tracks, sort of tripping over his own feet like he had heard you but hadn't registered what you said. He stops and turns to you, his eyes kinda wide with his head tilted slightly in question.

"I said you're beautiful Echo" you say again

He goes stiff, he definitely heard you this time. His heart kind of melts a little bit, you are always a sweetheart, but he had never been called beautiful. Quite frankly he felt a bit ugly, especially since what happened on Skaco Minor. You grab him by the hand and give it a small kiss

"You...really believe that?" he asks timidly

You give him another small kiss on the hand and a reassuring caress on his arm "I really do"

He smiles at that, you are always so kind, he feels so lucky to have met you. To have you by his side through thick and thin.

Crosshair

When you say it Crosshair whips around to face you, a confused scowl on his face.

"What did you just say?" he says gruffly

Not deterred by his rough attitude you smile at him, "I called you beautiful"

"What are you on about? Shut up"

He scoffs and glowers at you. What are you on about? Are you blind or something? His face is scared up and he can't remember the last time he smiled. Why would anyone, especially you think he was beautiful?

You cup his face with your hand "Listen, I know you won't believe me, but I really think you are beautiful"

"Tsk...you're the one who's beautiful" he mutters under his breath

It's your turn to smile now, you wished you could help Crosshair to see, but you knew his mild attitude was close enough

[wireheadbird]

Late

(DC) Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of gun, terminal illness, mentions of alcohol, angst, not proofread yet.

Summary: Y/N has a terminal illness, Lena offers to make a cure. 1258

______________________________________________________________

You called in sick for yet another day, allowing yourself to sulk in your despair. What else is a person meant to do once informed they have little time in their pathetic mortal life?

You and Lena weren’t that close anyway it was more of an employer and employee type of relationship. Perhaps with a few game nights with her friends here and there but that barely happened. Lena had tried calling you a few times but you let it ring. You watched it ring. What would you say if you picked it up anyway, ‘Hey I’m dying hope you don't mind me missing a few days’. 

For days on end Lena would call every few hours, along with concerned friends of hers. She was surrounded and loved by so many people, what difference would it make if it were one less. 

Nonetheless, Lena rummaged through her employee files till she found yours, scanning through it for your address and writing it down. She’s quick to gather her stuff and speed out the company building to your place with a casserole in hand. Once she arrives she knocks on the door only for it to open, seemingly unlocked, she double checks the sticky note for the apartment number in concern. A-401.

 You were a very cautious person, there's no way you would leave your apartment unlocked. She knocks once more before letting herself in and calling out your name, shutting the door behind her. Looking around at the dark apartment she notices how bottles of different colors and sizes littered the living room.

Her attention instantly spikes when she sees movement out of the corner of her eye, you stand there. Your disheveled figure leaning against the wall lit up by the light from the hallway you just came out from. Just as she was about to step towards you, concern etched on her face, you raise pointing your gun at her shakily with a bottle of something in your other hand. With the pungent scent in the air she could tell it was some sort of alcohol. 

“Woah there y/n, it's me, Lena.” she raises her hand in surrender. “Miss Luthor..?” your voice came out hoarse and shaky. “Yes, that's me” Lena was evidently more anxious now. You slide down the wall dropping your gun and taking a long swig of your beverage. She comes closer and realizes you were sweating and shivering at the same time, she takes the bottle from you and you don’t argue.

She places a hand on your forehead checking for a fever but you swat away her hand, Lena’s face contorts in confusion. “You have no fever…what’s wrong then?” she asks as she helps you up and onto your living room couch, pulling away the now empty bottle. You couldn’t think of a better way to break it to her, not like there was one in the first place. 

“I’m dying.” your voice doesn’t even quiver, making her think you were probably just exaggerating the feeling of being sick and she nervously chuckles “it can’t be that bad”. But it was. It is. “Lena. Look at me” You look into her eyes, “I’m dying Lena…”. You explain how you haven't been feeling well for a while, thinking it was probably from stress or sleep deprivation. But once the pain stopped being mental and became physical you had no option but to visit a doctor to get relief from the pain. Only to be diagnosed with a terminal illness you’ve never heard of. 

Once you finished explaining, Lena seemed completely out of it, her eyes wide and teary. So you reach for another bottle from the coffee table, next thing you know you were pressed back into the couch by a hug from a sobbing Lena. “You’ll be fine. You’ll live. I’ll find the cure myself” ______________________________________________________________

It's been days since Lena last visited. She shot you a few texts a couple times to check in on you, sending you words of encouragement and comfort. You couldn’t find it within you to spare any energy to make yourself any food and didn’t bother ordering takeout either which was out of character for you, you’d usually jump at the chance to order takeout. But you weren’t feeling up to it. And it seemed as if Lena had the same train of thoughts, because the day after she saw you in this state for the first time she sent you pre-prepped meals with delivery guys or sometimes takeout.

‘Hang in tight, I’m working on it.’ - Ms. Luthor 02:13 AM

A pang of guilt strikes through you. You hated how she pulled all-nighters to work on a slim to none chance of your survival. You tried ringing her to call it off and come up with some excuse but only wallowed deeper in your guilt after it went straight to voicemail.  ______________________________________________________________

It’s been almost a week since you last saw or spoke to Lena, she still sent food everyday so you knew she was okay. You however, not so much. You could feel yourself getting weaker, and on the fifth day you fell bed ridden. The delivery guys gave up on ringing the doorbell and just started leaving the food outside the apartment door. Which earned you knocks and complaints from the neighbors from the smell of the molding food. 

But you could no longer move, no longer speak, no longer stay awake to deal with the issue. Your phone seemed so close yet so far away, you couldn’t reach for it from how weak and pathetic you felt. All you did was sleep in an attempt to replenish your energy that way, all you wanted was to sleep. 

‘Hang on y/n…I’m almost there’ Lena thought to herself as she bottled the blue liquid packing a syringe with it, finally making a breakthrough after trapping herself in her lab in search of any sort of cure or treatment. She didn’t want to waste any time looking for her phone and quickly rushed out the company door wanting to get to you as soon as possible.

Once she arrives at the apartment building she’s met with the stinging scent of rotting food, she covers her nose taking out the spare key you gave her only to find out, once again. The door was unlocked.

Lena rushes into the apartment and into your bedroom, relaxing once she spots your body huddled up in between blankets and pillows. She slowly made her way to the bedside table turning on the lamp. “y/n?” she whispered as to not startle her. “I did it y/n I found the cure” Lena whispered, her eyes tearing up as she smiled excitedly. 

She waits for a response from you, her heart beating out of her chest in anticipation. Her brows furrow in concern, “y/n..?” she hesitantly reaches her hand out shaking you awake. Your body which was facing the wall, now laid on its back and your hand fell limp off of the side of the bed. 

Pale. Blue lips. A shaky hand reaches to check your neck for a pulse, her eyes widen and she flinches at the cold touch of your once warm skin. She stumbled backwards, losing her footing and falling to the floor into choked sobs. 

She was supposed to save you. You were supposed to live. You were supposed to make it. If only she had been earlier…perhaps you would’ve lived to thank her. 

But she was late…and you, gone too soon.

______________________________________________________________

my apologies for not being on, writers block goes hard.

[triplemystery]

loved the ocean - s.geto

summary; you try to figure out why suguru loves the ocean as much as he does

triggers; suicidal ideations

tags/warnings; slightly ooc, gender-neutral reader, suguru geto x reader

inspired by; Loved the ocean by Emilia Ali

word count; 1031

Suguru loved the ocean in the 'I only like to look at it way' you assumed, because, for someone who said he loved it so much, he never acted like it when you two would visit the beach.

"I'll just stay here on the shore" are the exact words he'd send you off into the water with every time you would drag him to the beach whenever the two of you had any free time.  He would watch you swim in the waves whilst he collected shells and rocks to show you on your way back to the dorms, from an outsider's perspective it would seem like he had no interest in being there at all.

It wasn't until you were far away, miles away, that he would start on his rants about how much he loved the ocean. He would talk about the ocean like the water was a real person. Like he needed his love for the ocean to sustain his love for himself. 

"The ocean is life" he had told you once just as you were about to doze off on his chest, his confession vibrated through your head and ended up nowhere. He stroked your head like it would push the words to make sense but you couldn’t understand. How can you love something you aren't even willing to touch?

Maybe he loved all the life that the ocean held, you sat on a harbor while watching Suguru and Gojo harassing some poor bird. It could be that he thought something as simple as dipping his toes in would disrupt its beauty. Like his mere presence would haunt the life it held. You really didn’t think he could haunt anyone though, your Suguru, he was too beautiful to. All the creatures in the ocean would probably turn in envy if they got a glimpse of his beauty.

You now lay on the warm sand whilst Suguru and Gojo went off to look for some shells to add to their collections, seemed they had gotten tired of chasing around animals they could never catch. It could be that he loved the power the ocean held. All the life that lay inside was protected by it, for what’s a protector without power? Maybe he never went inside because he knew he wasn't as strong as it, maybe he just never wanted to feel weak.

You smiled to them as they ran up to you, showing off the shells and rocks you picked up. Both of them competed with each other to see who could spout out a fact that would impress you the most. Gojo conked out after a while of walking, but you and Suguru stayed on the beach walking hand in hand along the shore.

Suguru had started drinking water a lot more you had noticed. It could be the summer heat getting to him, wearing him down, and making him seek out the liquid to keep himself going. Everyone needs water to live, even seemingly untouchable sorcerers like Gojo and Suguru. Maybe Suguru likes the ocean because he doesn't know what to do without it. Why would you not love something you need to live?

Except Suguru hadn't really been doing much living these days. He had lost weight you had noticed, like he was forgetting to eat and simply drank his weight in water thinking it was enough. You were brushed off every time you brought it up with him though, you were unsure if he could even register the fact that he was changing. It had been a Thursday evening when he knocked on your door and practically dragged you down to the beach with him, this time you didn't swim. You sat curled up on the sand watching the near black waves crash on the sand and end up nowhere. There is so much empty space in the ocean, maybe he feels like it's the only thing that can understand him these days.

Not a word was exchanged between the two of you on the walk back. No rants about how much he loved the ocean, no mundane facts spouted out about something you probably had no idea existed. Maybe his love for the ocean had faded away, or maybe it was his love for you that was waning.

"Why do you love the ocean Suguru?" you mumbled into his hair that night, but he didn't answer so you could only assume that it was because the ocean had too many possibilities not to be loved. The ocean is far too large for anyone to truly wrap their head around, maybe Suguru was in love with things he couldn't fully understand.

So why the fuck did he love you?

You weren't much to love, you weren’t anything like the ocean. You weren’t the most powerful, you didn’t understand him, he didn’t need you. You watched him and Gojo sparring in the gym wondering why he didn’t just spend all his time loving him. What was the point of pretending that he loved you when he could turn his energy to Gojo? He was strong, he could understand him, he had his back on all their missions. What was one without the other? What was the ocean without the earth?

Maybe if you become like the one thing Suguru loves more than Gojo, you would finally be the strongest in something.

You stepped out onto the beach, alone this time. The tide was particularly high tonight, waves crashing too powerfully along the shore to reflect the light glowing from the moon. You supposed it would help conceal you, maybe there was no point in doing this if you wouldn’t even be seen. You were already too far gone to think rationally though.

You thought he loved you, but maybe it was only ever because you were swimming in the one thing he loved the most. You fell in love with a boy who was destined to break your heart, but it would always be the taste of saltwater on your tongue that would cling to the memories you would carry after death.

If it weren't for Suguru, you might've loved the ocean as well.

a/n: i'm kinda dissapointed in this because i had such big hopes and so many more ideas for it but i slumped so so hard midway writing it and just could not imagine myself finishing it :(( I hope it's still nice to read, maybe one day i'll be able to revisit it any do everything i wanted with it

[candyhoiic]

Farewell, My Friend

Part One: Welcome Back

Nearly seven years ago, the radio demon all but vanished from Hell. Now he’s back to collect what he’s due.

Shadows creep along the walls, growing impossibly large threatening to consume everything around you. Breaking out into a cold sweat you feel your sweat trickle down the back of your neck leaving goosebumps in its path. Static prickles across your skin like a million bugs were crawling all over you. You hadn’t felt like this in over seven years, but it hadn’t nearly been long enough. Rigid in your stance, your eyes frantically move about the room trying to catch a glimpse of the red phantom drawing near.

Yet he evades you.

A voice inside you screams for you to run, but your legs remain rooted to ground. They feel unbelievably heavy as the darkness continues to close in on you. Your throat threatens to close as an unseen weight settles around your neck. After all this time why did he come back?

You close your eyes in wait. "Please have mercy on me." Prayers fall repeatedly from your lips despite you not even being religious. You were already in hell what was the point? Except right now, you would take even the slightest chance that God or even Lucifer himself might hear you and intervene before he came and collected you.

Just like in life your prayers weren't answered.

So, you keep your eyes shut tightly. You knew he would come for you eventually; it was unavoidable. Running wouldn't do you any good; he would merely enjoy the chase. Your stomach plummets, footsteps start to echo, their owner walking within the shadows unseen but there was no doubt in your mind about who was prowling towards you.

The tinny laughter that follows all but confirms your suspicions before the sudden appearance of a bioluminescent chain does. It's the only thing emitting light anymore, every other light source oppressed by the newly formed abyss. The glowing metal illuminating your surroundings in shades of sickening green.

It was such an ugly color.

You once believed it was the color of life. Now you knew better. The color only brought destruction, and the smell of something rotten like a long-forgotten corpse festering beneath the floorboards. It brought the phantom taste of ash and blood too. Your sharp teeth drag roughly against your tongue in an attempt to get rid of it and yet the taste remains.

If anything, it only grows stronger until there's no way to escape it.

Swallowing thickly, your eyes stray down to your neck, where a matching soul collar now tightens around it. It cuts cruelly against your jugular, your breath coming out in pants before a sudden and sharp tug has your landing painfully on your knees with a grunt.

"It's been far too long, old friend." Your own personal devil talks down to you with a mocking lilt. His tone far too cheery as a sadistic smile sprawls across his lips, tugging harshly at the corners of his mouth. The skin there pulled tight and straining, close to splitting further apart.

A shiver runs down your spine at the predatorial display. You instinctively want to cower away. Whimper like a cowardly dog with its tail tucked between its legs, but that's not how this game is played. Even after all this time, you remember what he expects from you. The unspoken rules for the twisted game he fashioned your life into.

You know better than to disappoint.

Drawing your shoulders back, you stick out your chin high, acting bold. The world is your stage after all. "Not long enough I'm afraid." Snarling at him, you flash your canines at him like a dog ready to bite. He doesn't hesitate to play along, invading your space, giving you the chance to bite him. You make no move to, and his smiles widens defying all logic. The bottom of his eyes curving upwards to leer down at you. They shine with cruelty and look far too knowing.

He knows as well as you do that, you wouldn't dare bite the hand that feeds you. You're at the disadvantage here, making this whole thing just a game for him. Loosing with dignity was your only option if he even allowed you that much. "Now there's no need to be so rude, hmm?" He leans over you, drawing out his hum as it crackles with feedback. His presence looms over you in a silent threat.

His playful mood is fading fast despite his ever-present grin. As always, he was changing the rules, and you were forced to keep walking on a fine lined tightrope or fall with no safety net to save you.

Checking your attitude, you watch him with trepidation, nodding your head minutely. You could read him well enough to know he didn't want actual words from you. It was a skill that never quite went away. He awarded you with a condescending pat to your head, full of the same warmth one would have for a particularly dumb pet. "I came here to offer you a deal."

You felt yourself bristle at his intentional word choice. He eagerly consumes your discomfort, laughing at your tight expression. "Oh, deer me!" He chortles some more, not even attempting to hide his amusement at your expense. "Forgive me for my choice of words, darling. It was a mere slip of the tongue."

He sounds anything but sincere as he takes it upon himself to tug the edges of your lips up in a painful grin. "Now smile, dearest! ~ You look positively atrocious without one!~ Not that you ever look good, mind you but smiling is definitely a start." He cuts himself off with another round of canned laughter, jostling your shoulders roughly like you were both in on the joke that only he was privy to.

His actions and words all meant to offend you under the guise of false comradery, and yet your fear is enough to keep you from rising to his bait. Despite his urgings, you know his 'good' mood is far too fragile to risk actually retaliating against him. No matter how much he pokes and prods at you, you weren't going to willingly offer yourself up to a cannibal.

He loses interest rather quickly after that, laughter waning down until his back to just smiling with a far too knowing edge. "As I was saying, I came with a most generous offer, if I do say so myself."

"And I do!" Another more grainer rendition of his voice abruptly joins in, blasting from the mic adorning the top of his newly summoned staff. It's singular eye glaring gleefully at you.

You're already frayed nerves force you to look away from it, unnerved by now have three eyes staring right at you. Your clear submission has his smiling a tad bit more genuine. You both know you'll accept whatever he was offering you without a fight.

"I require your company, cher. After the amusing little fiasco I saw on the picture box this afternoon, I've decided to pour my efforts into a new pet project..." The devious smile that follows as well as the sudden red lighting illuminating his face tells you all you need to know about his intentions. May Lucifer have mercy on whoever has caught his attention now.

"Why this charming new Hazbin Hotel-" The name doesn't sound quite right to you, but you don't have a death wish. So, you keep your corrections to yourself.

"-has gotten my name written all over it and I haven't even lifted a claw yet! So, I hoped you joined me on this new exciting endeavor. What do you say? Let's exchange one another's company for the other and call this an even deal! ~" He jovially finishes, almost hitting you as he throws out his hand. Palm facing upwards for you to not shake on your new 'deal' but to put your hand in his.

It seems your answer was not necessary, he had already made the decision for you. You hesitate for only a moment, skin crawling at the thought of touching him, but it only takes a twitch of his brow to force your hand quite literally.

In the very same instance, you place your hand in his, the shadows quickly descending on the both of you. But where they cocooned over Alastor in a familiar embrace, they consumed you like a starved beast, choking the very air in your lungs. They took every bit of you in their hungry maw as you're both swept halfway across pentagram city, leaving the room you were in before back to normal if not for the eyes covering the walls.

Author Note:

Originally just a silly little one-shot, but I’ve decided to turn this into a mini-fic that I’ll post both here at on A03 if anyones interested! I have a rather delicious ending planned out for this. Not sure of everything that will happen between now and the end, so I guess we'll just have to find out together... (≖ᴗ≖ ✿)

[cherrynwinesk]

｡･ﾟ♡»Master List«♡ﾟ･｡

English/Inglés

Sapnap;

Come on down to Florida ~ sfw

Come on down to Florida pt. 2 ~ sfw [process]

Girlfriend with Period ~ sfw/nsfw

Toxic boyfriend ~ angst

Georgenotfound;

Girlfriend with Period ~ sfw/nsfw

Toxic boyfriend ~ angst

Dream;

Girlfriend with Period ~ sfw/nsfw

Toxic boyfriend ~ angst

Karl Jacobs;

Toxic boyfriend ~ angst

Roier

Just Relax Love ~ nsfw/smut soft (first time with)

Cuddling with Roier ~ sfw/suggestive

Headcanon's ~ nsfw/smut

Headcanon's pt.2 ~ nsfw/smut

Quackity

Princess Treat Headcanon's ~ sfw / soft (esp/eng)

Lights off ~ sfw / soft

Lights off pt.2 ~ sfw / soft

Polyamory w/ Wilbur n reader headcanon's ~ sfw

Let him work ~ sfw/suggestive

Added to QSMP ~ sfw

Headcanon's w Asían reader ~ sfw

Forever

Yandere headcanon's ~ nsfw/violent

Spreen

Headcanon's ~ nsfw

Cuddling Headcanon's ~ sfw

Cellbit

Cuddling headcanon's ~ sfw/soft/fluff

As u Sleep ~ nsfw/horror

As u Sleep pt.2 ~ nsfw/horror

Wilbur Soot;

Polyamory w/Quackity n reader headcanon's ~ sfw

Boyfriend Headcanon's ~ sfw

Español/Spanish

Quackity

Boyfriend headcanon's ~ sfw/ fluff

Princess Treat Headcanon's ~ sfw / soft (esp/eng)

Baila conmigo ~ sfw

Nihachu

Girlfriend Headcanon's ~ sfw

Roier;

Boyfriend headcanon's ~ sfw/nsfw

Just Relax Love ~ nsfw/smut soft (first time with)

Spreen

Boyfriend headcanon's ~ sfw/fluff

MishoAmoli;

Boyfriend headcanon's ~ sfw/nsfw

Shadoune;

Boyfriend headcanon's ~ sfw/nsfw

Reborn;

Boyfriend headcanon's ~ sfw/nsfw

Anunciando su relación ~ sfw

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Dear Female Readers,

This is a not so friendly reminder to, before submitting an ask, read the blog's description, pinned post and blog rules.

If the blog does not write for female readers... Do not request female reader content. Move along to another blog that does. You are not their demographic and that is a sure fire way to piss someone off.

And if you do read a blog's rules, pinned post and description and send a fem reader request anyway... You're a disrespectful asshole. You need to know that and correct your behavior. Thanks for reading.

— Benny 🐰, a person who runs a gn/male reader blog