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lesinquietes · 5 months

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Imagine being a hero working with the HPSC and being assigned to target Dabi, but then hero society goes down the drain and you’re captured by the PLF 💀

Tw; burning, death (minor), noncon (implied), sex slavery

You slowly become his arch nemesis (after endeavour ofc you can’t compete with familial hatred), showing up at damn near every large event he’s involved in, making sure he feels the weight of your presence. And he does. You can tell by the way his lips twitch into a devious smirk as he engages his quirk and tries to fry you. Your persistence frustrates him; you just don’t give up. Bonus points if you have an ice quirk because we all know what that’ll do to his poor, traumatized brain.

But then, when the Paranormal Liberation Front turns the land into a dystopian paradise, you fall as their prisoner. You fight as hard as you can. You think it’s over when you lose consciousness. Unfortunately, you wake up on a makeshift stage, instead, with others of your ilk, bound and vulnerable. There’s a sea of villains spectating around you, jeering, booing, and cackling at your state. It’s then that you realize you’re either going to be killed or auctioned off.

When Dabi steps forward, cracking his knuckles and grinning at you with steam billowing from his sickly grafts, you know you’re fucked. You witness a different side of his persona. It’s darker — eviler, perhaps. The way his eyes trace up and down your form unnerves you. There’s something haunting about his gaze, and you only find out what it is when he takes your chin in his warm hand and forces you to stare at him. The noise in the room rests as everyone observes what the tyrannical Todoroki plans to do with you. Only you register the lust in his azure irises.

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve been waiting for this moment, you bitch.”

And for a second, you think it’s bloodlust; you think he’s going to fucking kill you. You think, in this room full of rancid spectators — in this lineup of other heroes who are slated to be auctioned off or executed — he’s going to make an example of you. You flinch when he ignites his blue flames and incinerates everyone. You bite your tongue to stay yourself from screaming as the heat licks your flesh, causing a thick sweat to coat your skin. You taste blood. Suddenly, all your comrades are dead, and you’re the only one left. Opening your eyes and coming into your new reality takes several moments.

Dabi doesn’t cremate you alive; he spares you. And he makes sure you understand your new purpose.

He declares, to the witnesses, that you are to be his concubine. He encourages them to find their own nemeses and repeat the process, as there’s no greater joy than breaking your enemy in all possible ways. You feel yourself shrink as he speaks, your heart plummeting from towering heights with his cryptic ideologies.

When he’s done, and the space is filled with roaring and cheering, he twists his head to drink in your figure once more. You’re covered in bruises, scratches, and gashes. Your clothes are ripped and you look like a fucking mess. Not to him, though; not when he’s been dying to get his scarred hands on your perfect body, all for the purpose of absolutely soiling you. To think, he actually wanted you dead at one point, when this type of revenge is far more satisfying.

“You’re gonna regret being an annoyance these last few months.” He promises you, tone saccharine to match the grin on his sparse lips. “Can’t wait to make you feel every grain of fucking stress you caused me.”

He could have lied to you, and that would have been enough to strike a fear of God through you. He could have deceived you and the audience about his reason for claiming you; after all, he would be praised for doing away with one of your kind. But as he takes you away from your dead, incinerated comrades, the scent of death sticking to you like cigarette smoke, you come to understand that he doesn’t make false vows; he does precisely as he says he’s going to do, re: getting revenge on his dad.

He keeps you locked in his private room, away from everyone else. He secures a new quirk-canceling collar around your neck and leashes you to the bed. Your wrists are pinned behind you and your curious eyes are concealed to disorient you. Of course, after rendering you useless, the next thing he does is incinerate your clothes. When you scream at the sensation of fire scorching your skin, living in horror for only a split second as your garments turn to ash, he cackles. He rationalizes that sex slaves don’t need garments, and that if he’s feeling kind, he might use his quirk to keep you warm. You’ll have to beg, though.

Fat chance, you think. Begging is weakness. Begging is forfeiting your status as a hero. Begging is fucking pathetic. You may have been defeated, but you resolve that he won’t vanquish your spirit. Much to your chagrin, that’s Dabi’s entire mission. He wants to break you. He wants to crumple you into something shapeable, so he can comfort your essence into what he wants it to be. The problem with Todorokis is that cruelty seems to come naturally to the most powerful of them. The moment you started causing him grief is the moment to knew he wanted to dominate you.

He snatches you by the hair and reels you in. Then, his face is mere centimetres from yours. The subtle scent of rotting, burning flesh is putrid. The only thing that stops you from gagging is the cologne he uses — that makes him smell like a dewy forest. He grins, steam wafting from his mouth, as though he’s going to explode into flames at any second.

“Should I start with branding you, or teaching your body who it belongs to?” He asks rhetorically, both of you knowing damn well he won’t give you a say in the matter.

#minors dni #tw noncon #I might write more of this bc it’s delicious but it won’t be a fic ✨#but the idea of Dabi getting the upper hand is 💯#yandere dabi x reader #yandere touya x reader #yandere touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi smut #afab reader

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haveyouseenthishorrormovie · 5 months

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Stats from Movies 1-100

Top 10 Movies - Highest Number of Votes

Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) had the most votes with 2,493 votes.

The 10 Most Watched Films by Percentage

Coraline (2009) was the most watched film with 89.41% of voters saying they had seen it.

The 10 Least Watched Films by Percentage

Halloween (2007) was the least watched film with 64.13% of voters saying they hadn't seen it.

The 10 Most Known Films by Percentage

Coraline (2009) was the best known film with only 0.08% of voters saying they'd never heard of it.

The 10 Least Known Films by Percentage

Shrooms (2007) was the least known film with 74.77% of voters saying they'd never heard of it.

The movies part of the statistic count and their polls below the cut.

Carrie (1976) Scream (1996) Hereditary (2018) It (2017) Candyman (1992) Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988) The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) The Babadook (2014) Paranormal Activity (2007) An American Werewolf in London (1981)

Misery (1990) The Fly (1986) Black Swan (2010) House of 1000 Corpses (2003) The Devil’s Rejects (2005) 3 from Hell (2019) Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008) Halloween (1978) Halloween (2007) Re-Animator (1985)

My Bloody Valentine (1981) Tucker and Dale vs Evil (2010) Little Shop of Horrors (1986) Scary Movie (2000) Birdemic: Shock and Terror (2010) Psycho (1960) Train to Busan (2016) Thelma (2017) The Dark (2018) Ravenous (1999)

Shrooms (2007) Let the Right One In (2008) It Follows (2014) Martyrs (2008) The Wicker Man (1973) The Descent (2005) Dead End (2003) Fear Street trilogy (2021) The Ring (2002) Bride of Re-Animator (1990)

Frankenstein (1931) Broken (1993) NoroI: The Curse (2005) The Eyes of My Mother (2016) Jacob's Ladder (1990) Phenomena (1985) Ichi the Killer (2001) Nightbreed (1990) Braindead (1992) Hatching (2022)

Wait Until Dark (1967) The Host (2006) Oculus (2013) Skinamarink (2022) We're All Going to the World's Fair (2021) Perfect Blue (1997) The Night House (2020) Lake Mungo (2008) Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) Phantom of the Paradise (1974)

The Cabin in the Woods (2011) Devour (2005) My Bloody Valentine 3D (2009) Unfriended (2014) Choose or Die (2022) The Ritual (2017) Countdown (2019) The Wretched (2019) House (1977) Suspiria (1977)

Hatchet (2006) Hell House LLC (2015) The Taking of Deborah Logan (2014) The Exorcist (1973) Poltergeist (1982) Gremlins (1984) Child's Play (1988) A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) Audition (1999) Cam (2018)

Jennifer's Body (2009) Ready or Not (2019) Dracula (1931) Freaks (1932) Alien (1979) Saw (2004) House of Wax (2005) Parasite (2019) Nope (2022) The Lost Boys (1987)

Hellraiser (1987) Ghost Ship (2002) Triangle (2009) Talk to Me (2022) Terrifier (2016) Coraline (2009) Monster House (2006) Mama (2013) Pulse (2001) Midsommar (2019)

#recap

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here-to-read-and-read-fics · 10 months

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BTS FICS I RECOMMEND YOU TO READ

OT7 x Reader /Poly x Reader

Series

~A~

Can't Wait To See You Again (12/?) Back Home (11/?) (from @alexlwrites) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Temporary Home (1/?) (from AwkwardGoose on AO3) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~B~

Ruin me, Pretty please (from @bangtanflirt) [COMPLETE] {Jimin x Reader x Jungkook}

Void (7,5/?) (from @btssavedmylifeblr) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Safe and Sound (8/?) (from @bearr02) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Our Own World (10/?) (from @bangfantanfic) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

My Bestfriend (from Belongs_to_BTS7 on WATTPAD) [COMPLETE] {Maknae Line x Reader}

Paranormal (14/?) (from Betty on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Everything falls into place (from @blog-name-idk) [COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

By chance (from BTS_Mommy on AO3)[COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~D~

Guys that I'd kind of be into (11/?) (from @daisilyreadywriter) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Enchanted to meet you (10/?) (from @ditttiii) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~F~

My Beautiful Neighbor (7/?) (from futuristic on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

YouTube. Thanks to youtube (5/?) (from Fanfic for LIFE on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~H~

Neighbors (1/?) (from @honey-andmilktea) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Love Paradise (4/?) (from HobiSun on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~I~

Seven With You (18/?) (from imaho4leeknow on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~J~

Armed to the Fangs (12/?) (from @jingabitch) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~K~

My First Concert (5/?) (from benzine on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~L~

7 hybrids moved in with me (7/?) (@lillsisamarshmallow) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~M~

Wrecked Melody (2/?) (from MalfoyEtBlack13 on AO3) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Lost In The Lights (3/?) (from @makingmeagirlwithluv) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~N~

Combined beings (from @numinousher) [COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Isolation (from @nomimits7) [COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Gamer (5/?) (from nini on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Tickets to Paradise (6/?) (Nenya_KJ on AO3) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~O~

Giving a Hand (from orphan_account on AO3) [COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~P~

Heartbeat (2/?) (from @pasteljeon) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Time to Shine (18/?) (from pirateswaan on AO3) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~R~

I Wanna Be Yours (7/?) (from @rmsrkive) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~S~

Emerald Gem (1/?) (from @sweetlyskz) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

The Share House (22/?) (from svrcegi on WATTPAD) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Sweet Dreams (from Sammie on QUOTEV) [COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Bangtan's NDA (3/?) (from serendipityjiminnie on AO3) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~T~

Just a Taste (11.2/?) (from @taeyohonic) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Reflection : Her (17/?) (from thatgirlhan on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

~Y~

Let the light in (2/?) (from @yoonnvrs) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

All started with an interview (1/?) (from yoki on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE] {OT7 x Reader}

Kim Namjoon /RM x Reader

Series

~A~

I Trusted You (from athinaayline on WATTPAD) [COMPLETE]

~F~

Plastic Heart (from @fresh-outta-jams) [COMPLETE]

~H~

Pretty Boy (from hanibbalistic on WATTPAD) [COMPLETE]

~K~

Study Session (from @knamjooned) [COMPLETE]

Frenemies ; The Clumsy Soulmate (from knjmyg on QUOTEV) [COMPLETE]

~N~

Cell Phone (from Nicholas_EC on WATTPAD) [COMPLETE]

~S~

Trust me please (1/?) (from @sugarwithtea) [NOT COMPLETE]

Translating for BTS (from SillyAnahi on WATTPAD) [COMPLETE]

Tease (from shininq_stxrs on WATTPAD) [COMPLETE]

Park Jimin /Jimin x Reader

Series

~F~

Youtuber (from fairiesmin on WATTPAD) [COMPLETE]

~N~

Mr. Flirt (1/?) (from @newcaptainofsquad9) [NOT COMPLETE]

~S~

Nevermind (3/?) (from @strawbearytae) [NOT COMPLETE]

Jeon Jungkook /Jungkook x Reader

Series

~A~

Golden Love (3/?) (from Alixx on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE]

~B~

Foreigner (1/?) (from BaeyaChi on WATTPAD) [NOT COMPLETE]

~G~

A Spring Full of You (2/?) (from girlandmermaid1 on WATTPAD) [NOT COMPLETE]

Oh my trouble (1/?) (from Gojo on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE]

~M~

She is my man (from MIOK on QUOTEV) [COMPLETE]

~R~

Forget me not (4/?) (from Rosie Posie on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE]

~S~

Roommate agreement (3/?) (from @staygoldkoo) [NOT COMPLETE]

~T~

Fan Identity [COMPLETE] // Waiting Game (26/?) [NOT COMPLETE] (from @tteokggukk)

Min Yoongi /Suga x Reader

~H~

Number Neighbor (10/?) (from @hoseoks-soda-on-the-side) [NOT COMPLETE]

~M~

Adventure Is Out There (10/?) (from minyoogiswife on WATTPAD) [NOT COMPLETE]

Kim Taehyung/ V x Reader

~A~

My Personal Translator (9/?) (from Amateur-Trash on WATTPAD) [NOT COMPLETE]

~K~

Kinda Hot (from @kimnjss) [COMPLETE]

~S~

Love at First Sight (6/?) (from shmehalien on QUOTEV) [NOT COMPLETE]

~T~

Bread Cheeks (from @tteokggukk) [COMPLETE]

~Y~

Mocha Latte (6/?) (from yoongicool on WATTPAD) [NOT COMPLETE]

STRAY KIDS FICS I RECOMMEND YOU TO READ

Series

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confused-red-head · 2 months

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These Curses We Bear

Chapter 3: Here Comes The Sun

Pro-Hero!Shouto Todoroki x Psychic Medium Detective!Reader

Masterlist

Previous - Current - Next

WARNING: dark themes, death, minor character death, descriptions of dead bodies(no excessive gore), paranormal activities, blood, violence, cursing, angst, angst WITH COMFORT(moreso in later chapters), mentions of trauma, mentions of illness, fem!reader, READER TALKS TO GHOSTS, ghost child in chapter 1, children in general, Reader being a dork, home break-in, slowish burn, minor self harm (skin picking), strategically placed fluff, etc.

Author's Note: sup nerds guess who crawled out of her anxiety pit and decided to get back to work.

Morning came much sooner than you would have liked. Light streamed in through the glass balcony door, in the perfect position to blind you as you awoke. You glanced at your digital clock, which read '7:34 AM'. You silently curse yourself for not closing the blinds last night.

You heaved a sigh as you turned over in your soft, pillowy paradise in hopes of getting more rest.

Those hopes were crushed when your phone began to ring. Letting out a grunt, you snatched your phone from your nightstand.

"Hello?", you spoke into the phone, attempting to sound even somewhat awake.

"Detective Onee-chan!"

You immediately recognize the voice. You practically fling yourself from bed, already grabbing a sweatshirt.

"Akemi?! What's wrong? What happened?"

"We need help!"

After tugging on the sweatshirt and grabbing your wallet and keys, you slip on your sneakers,"Okay. Just stay on the phone. Tell me where you are. What happened? Is anyone hurt?"

"We're outside your house! Shouto's hurt!"

Huh?

"What?..."

"Haruka's Shouto plushie! Some boys came by and tried to take him from her! They pulled his arm off and ran! Now she's refusing to go to school with him like this!"

Oh.

You stared dumbfoundedly at your front door, simultaneously filled with relief and frustration. Ultimately, you had to understand this was a big deal for a kid. Especially when they had already lost everything that mattered to them once before.

You took a deep breath and steadied your voice into something softer, "I… Okay. Okay. I'll be out there very soon. Don't go anywhere."

You ran back into your room and grabbed the old sewing kit you kept around. You also ran into the bathroom to pluck a box of colorful adhesive bandages and wet wipes from the cabinet before rushing out to find the two young girls sitting on your front step. The older girl, nine-year old Akemi, stood from her seat and gave a polite bow, her baby blue hair swung about in her ponytail and her golden eyes shone brightly in the morning light.

"Good morning, Detective Onee-chan."

"Good morning, Akemi. Good morning, Haruka."

The younger girl, six-year old Haruka, remained seated in her spot on the step. She tightly hugged the plush, she quietly sniffled as more tears streamed down her face. Her tawny hair was tousled from her usually neat pigtails and her lavender eyes were blurred from the tears.

Both girls lived just across the street in a foster home with a few other children. You were familiar with all the children since you've known their foster mother, Manami, since she was an old family friend of yours. She ran the foster home with another friend of hers and, just for the record, did an amazing job with the kids. You even helped out some days if their schedules got a little too busy, thus the children knew you pretty well and had you as a contact in their emergency phones Manami provided them.

You crouched down in front of the younger girl, trying your best to meet her height.

"Hey Haruka. I'm here to help fix up Shouto for you. Is it okay if I take a look at him?"

Haruka was a particularly special case. Her parents died about a year ago. A fire had broken out and spread through their apartment complex. It claimed her parents and put her older brother, who had protected her from the raging flames, into a coma from the severe burns he sustained before a hero had managed to save them. That hero being Shouto, himself. Since then she's been selectively mute.

Unfortunately, this has made her a target for some unruly children who liked to tear up plushies for fun.

Haruka sat still for a moment and wiped her eyes before giving you a small nod. You gently took the plush and the severed arm from her small hands, quickly getting to work stitching the arm back onto the plush, being as neat as possible.

If you had one yen for every time you had to help fix up a Shouto… you'd have two yen.

Which may not be much, but it is weird that it happened twice.

You chuckled to yourself for your stupid joke as you presented Haruka with a variety of adhesive bandages.

"Which one do you think Shouto would like?"

The young girl looked at the bandages, a serious look crossed her face, like this was the most serious decision she had to make in her life. You had to refrain from chuckling at the adorable look.

Haruka finally pointed at a Princess Elsa bandage. You peeled the protective paper from the bandage and applied it over the stitching.

"Alright, there we go! All that's left to do is to give him a kiss to make it feel better!", you hold out the plush to Haruka.

The six-year old eagerly takes it back and gives it a kiss on the forehead. You chuckled, grabbing a wet wipe from the packaging.

"Now. If anymore boys try to take him away from you, kick them in the shins! Got it?" You lightly cupped the girl's face as you began delicately wiping her tear-streaked cheeks.

Haruka nodded firmly, a determined look in her eyes. A real woman on a mission.

"Detective Onee-Chan! You can't just tell her she can hit people!", Akemi gasped.

"Okay okay! Fine. No kicking shins… if you can help it."

"Onee-Chan!"

"Look. If she can't use her words then I'm sure a nice, swift kick to the shins will get the point across that they can't mess with her!"

Akemi's face scrunched up into a puffy-cheeked pout.

"Okay, okay fine. Don't hit people. Now let's get you two to school before you're late… again."

You took the girls' hands and walked off, unaware that a very distracted Haruka is staring in awe at a very familiar dual-colored figure standing in your apartment window.

You returned to your apartment building after dropping the girls off at school, only to catch the distinct smell of something burning and the blaring of a smoke alarm.

Your initial thought was,

Pfft, some dumbass is burning down their apartment.

Until, upon closer inspection, you realize,

Oh shit! That's my apartment!

You swear you sped faster than Ingenium himself as you climbed the steps of the staircase, aside from nearly face planting a few times. The moment you unlocked the door, nearly tearing it from the hinges. Smoke fogged up the hall and swirled around the entrance hall, stinging your eyes and nose.

You swerved around the corner, nearly tripping over your lovely potted monstera in the process, only to find a wide-eyed and bewildered Todoroki donning your cat pattern apron and holding a now frozen frying pan.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, both of your faces adorning similar shocked expressions.

…

"Pffft…"

The silence was broken by an abrupt snort from you. You bit your lip in an attempt to conceal the grin tugging at your lips.

"Don't laugh." Todoroki wasn't amused as a tinge of red spread across his cheeks as his face scrunched into a pout.

"Nonono! I'm just…pffft… I'm just… ahem… I'm sorry, but the look on your face took me off guard." You tried to cover your curled lips with your hand as you strode across your living room to slide open your balcony door to filter out the smoke, thankful that the spring weather was agreeable this morning.

"So… I'm guessing you were trying to make breakfast…", you walked back to prop one hand onto the kitchen counter while the other was planted on your hip. You shot him a playful smirk, "Unless, you were trying to burn down my apartment, then I'd say you are going about it in a less-than-convenient way."

"...It was fish…" Todoroki looked back at the pan with a small, dissatisfied pout at the frozen pan he was slowly thawing in his left hand.

"What exactly did you do anyway?" You raised an eyebrow in question.

"I poured oil into the pan, then put the fish in the pan."

You take a glance at the bottle on the counter, quickly recognizing the contents of said bottle.

"Well, first off, you used too much oil. You should have brushed it on the fish, not doused it. Secondly, you probably had the heat way too high. Thirdly…" you stand from leaning on the counter to point a finger at the defrosted pan, "That's Mackerel. Unless you were to marinade it overnight, I would have just used sake and salt, then put it in the fish grill."

You pulled open the drawer containing a waste bin, gesturing for the man to dispose of the charred and soggy fish. The duel-colored hero complied, tilting the pan to allow the inedible bits of fish to slowly slide out of the pan and land into the waste bin with a splat.

"Well… wanna try again, Peppermint?", you slid the drawer closed again and directed your attention to the man who started washing off the dirty pan.

He quirked a brow as he scrubbed the char from the pan's surface, "Do you really want me to nearly burn the place down again?"

You opened the fridge, scanning for ingredients,"You won't. You just need a little guidance. Plus, practice makes progress."

Todoroki paused his scrubbing to turn to you, "Isn't the saying 'practice makes perfect'?"

You collected your remaining Mackerel along with a few other ingredients from the fridge and set them out onto the counter, "Not in this house, it isn't. I'm not perfect, why should I expect others to be? Perfection is a ridiculous expectation to put on people. We're human. We make mistakes."

The pro hero stared at you for a moment, brows scrunched slightly in contemplation before huffing out a small chuckle and relaxed, suddenly feeling much less bothered over the burnt fish incident.

You turn to him with your hands on your hips,"Alrighty! Let's get started, shall we?"

Cooking breakfast went much smoother this time around. The two of you worked in unison to put together a meal from what you had stored away in your kitchen. Todoroki had moved on from the fish to making rolled omelets with your instruction while you set the dining table that sat between the guest bedroom and the living room. You watched as he looked like he was defusing a bomb and not rolling up cooked eggs. It nearly gave you whiplash remembering that the oh-so-serious and stoic hero that you saw every once in a while on the news was the same man who struggled to fry a fish this morning. You couldn't help but let out a giggle.

"You certainly seem to be in a better mood than last night.", Todoroki said as he plated the second omelet.

"Huh? Oh. Yeahhh… A good night's sleep does wonders.", You gave a small smile, you didn't want to talk about last night so you did what you always did- Pretend you were fine, "Since we are on the subject, how did you sleep?"

"Ah. Not well, truthfully."

"Hmm, was your side bothering you? I should have left the painkillers out for you in that case."

"No. It wasn't that."

"Oh really? What was it then?" You tilted your head a bit to look at him from the dining table.

"I felt like I was being watched all night. It was unnerving…"

"Oh, that was probably Suzume-chan. She likes attractive men and she's been a little too excited since you've arrived. Don't worry though she's harmless. She has a huge crush on Shinsou and she'll be over you in a few days. I'll make sure to tell her to leave you alone."

You swear you could see the math equations pass by the hero's head as his face subtly shifted into a look of bafflement as he processed what you said. He set down the plates holding the rolled omelets, trying to restrain the small blush after you had suddenly and blatantly admitted he was attractive. Of course, he was told by many he was attractive at this point, but the way you had said it so casually made him ever so slightly flustered. You said it like it was a solid fact. Like the sky was blue. Like grass was green. Like Midoriya is All Might's secret love chi- He shook slightly to regain his train of thought.

"Suzume-chan?" He tilted his head as his bafflement grew into concern.

"Yeah she's one of the spirits." You spoke casually until a realization dawned on you.

"Oh shit! I didn't warn you about the spirits in the apartment!"

The two of you spent breakfast talking about your friendly neighborhood apartment spirits. The conversation fortunately seemed to quell his concern. In fact it seemed to spark a curiosity in him. He asked questions about the spirits and you answered what you knew. You talked about the boy-obsessed Suzume-chan, the ever-protective Ryuji, the mysterious figure that just stands in the hallway sometimes, and a few other spirits that haunt the place.

The conversation devolved from spirits to anything that came to mind. Todoroki didn't speak much at first, but grew more and more invested. He talked about how his friends threw him a surprise birthday party at his favorite soba shop after a week of hell. How a young fan gifted him a very wonky, handmade Shouto plushie, yet it's one of his favorite things. Even how he was concerned how his mother and siblings were doing and if they heard the news of what happened.

And like that time flew by. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. Neither of you noticed until your cat, Kuma, decided to make himself known by nipping at your ankle mid-conversation.

"Ah! Ow! Cat, why?!"

You jumped from your seat and watched as your large tabby cat waddled over to his bowl that sat on the floor at the end of the kitchen's island counter. His big green eyes stared up at you with his tail swiping from side to side.

"Ah crap. I forgot to feed you. I'm sorry, Bud."

You followed Kuma over to his bowls, grabbing the bag from the cabinet, and crouched down to pour the kibble into the bowl. You give your now satisfied feline friend a quick pet before glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Damn… it's eleven already?", you stood and stretched your arms with a groan, back cracking from sitting at your less than comfortable dining chair for hours, "Welp! I have some errands I gotta run today. I'm gonna go get dressed."

"I'll come with you." Todoroki stood from his seat, collecting dishes as he did so.

You released your arms from a stretch and planted your palms on your hips, you arched a brow at the man gathering your dirtied dishes. Todoroki looked up at you, noticing your questioning expression before something seemed to click in his mind.

"The errands. I'll come with you for the errands… not with… getting dressed…"

"Pfft- No that's not-" you couldn't help but laugh at the hero's clarification. Todoroki cupped his hand over the back of his neck as an embarrassed blush bloomed across his cheeks. He watched you clutch your stomach at the genuine laughter spilling from your lips.

"I-I knew what you meant, don't worry. I didn't think you were some pervert.", you struggled to regain your composure and catch your breath.

You finally calmed down with a sigh,"It's just… people are probably looking for you as we speak, and you did get hurt last night. Are you sure you want to go out so soon?"

Todoroki nodded, "We have no way of communicating securely. If something happened to one of us, we would have no safe way to inform the other."

"Hmm that's fair. I suppose we are better off sticking close for now."

You pressed your curled forefinger to your lips, a little, devious grin stretched across your face.

"Then this calls for a little makeover!"

"Alright, hold still for me."

You make a mental note to thank Shinsou for the emergency supplies again. You had let Todoroki choose amongst the few wigs and fresh colored contacts that were stored away within the duffle bag. He chose a simple, but charming combination of light brown eye contacts and a short dark brown wig in a side-part style that left some locks resting over his left eye. With the contacts in and iconic white and red split hair carefully tucked away under the wig, he was, once again, seated at the dining table as you prepared the makeup.

"Just let me know if you feel uncomfortable."

You lightly held his chin, gently guiding his face in one direction or another while you applied primer, foundation, and concealer to his skin. The concealer and foundation(although slightly off from Todoroki's skin tone) worked like magic, seemingly making his scar disappear.

Damn. I need to ask Shinsou where he got this stuff.

Moving on you continue on to brush the lightest bits of contour and blush so Todoroki would look more natural and not look like a member of the walking dead. You contemplated plucking his eyebrows, but they were surprisingly well groomed; most likely done for his occasional public appearances, you guessed. So you let them be, settling for a quick shaping before applying the dark brow coloring and swiping a thin layer of mascara on his lashes. Finishing up, you pat on a layer of setting powder and finally the setting spray that seemed to snap the hero out of his almost meditative state.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoyed getting your make-up done."

Todoroki gave a bashful look, but didn't respond, only rubbing the back of his neck. In truth he did enjoy it, far more than when he had public appearances. Perhaps he was so distracted dreading the event itself, he had no time to actually appreciate the process. This time there was no rush, blaring lights in his face, or the incessant shouts of people clamoring for his attention. Just a gentle spring breeze wafting through the apartment, the morning sun illuminating the space, and a set of surprisingly gentle hands pampering him. For a brief second he forgot about his less-than-fortunate situation.

He shook his head when you turned to store away the make-up supplies, hoping you wouldn't notice his internal dilemma or at the very least bring it up.

You turned back to him, hand on your hips and admiring your work. Just as he managed to finally ground himself again… you threw him for another loop.

"Damn. Maybe I did too well… someone might just mistake you for an actor or pop idol." You chuckled.

There it is again. That casual tone.

"Let's add a face mask for extra measure. If anyone asks I'll just say you're a germaphobe."

You turned back again to rummage through your closet for your supply of face masks, leaving a very confused Todoroki in your wake. When you faced him again with a mask in hand, you recognized the confused look on his face, staring down at his clenching and unclenching hands.

"Hey… are you sure you're good to go out today?" You strode over to him with a mask in hand, "Don't get me wrong, I know you're plenty capable, but… what you went through last night could mess with anyone's head. Hero or not."

That seemed to snap him out of his train of thought, blinking his eyes before looking up at you.

"I'll be fine. Thank you.", he stood from his seat and gratefully took the face mask from your hand, ignoring the fact his finger twitched when brushing against your own.

"Right then…", you shrugged with a pursed smile, not willing to argue.

Whatever you say, Peppermint.

You grabbed your bag from the table and spun around to face the front door,"Let's get going. Watch out, Nibetsu City! Here we come!"

Taglist: @andypantsx3 @canthavetoomuchchaos @xxblackroses623xx

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meat-wentz · 7 months

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hi mx meat ^_^ do u have any horror movie recs for someone who’s trying to get into the genre? classics and such?

omg yes yes yes!!!!

slashers: halloween (1978), a nightmare on elm street (1984), the texas chainsaw massacre (1974), scream (the ultimate slasher, i would watch this after watching the first three listed here), black christmas (1974), you’re next, and a couple of 00’s slasher remakes i think everyone should watch at some point for being total encapsulations of how mean the 00’s were: house of wax (2005) and sorority row (2009)

zombies: night of the living dead (1968), dawn of the dead (1978), day of the dead (1985), 28 days later, train to busan, shaun of the dead, return of the living dead

paranormal: the shining (1981), poltergeist (1982), the changeling (1980), the innocents (1961), crimson peak, the devil’s backbone, ju-on, ringu, pulse (2001), talk to me, candyman (1992)

vampires: the lost boys, interview with a vampire (1994), near dark, fright night (1985), dracula (1931), bram stoker’s dracula (1992), buffy the vampire slayer (1992), the hunger, let the right one in

dark magic/possession/devils and demons: jennifer’s body, rosemary’s baby, the exorcist, the witch, the craft, the omen (1976), evil dead (1981), evil dead 2, suspiria (1977)

creatures: ginger snaps, the thing (1982), alien, aliens, american werewolf in london, the mist, the faculty, the fly (1986), invasion of the body snatchers (1978), it (2017), the babadook, jaws

other: teeth, donnie darko, american psycho, get out, the rocky horror picture show, the phantom of the paradise, carrie (1976), videodrome, may, it follows, hereditary, saw, hellraiser (1987), child’s play (1988), final destination (2000), psycho (1960)

here’s a lil smattering of what the genre has to offer!! i tried to give you some range in eras and subgenres and mood while also maintaining a pretty classic intro list to horror! i hope you enjoy a few of these and if you like one, the best thing about horror is there’s literally 100+ more movies just like it out there, so if you ever need a more niche curated list once you’ve found out what you like just hmu again and i gotchu!!!!! <33333

#bsideheart #ask #<33333 #this is my fave ask!!!!!!!#why did i have so many wrong years on here anyways i think i fixed them all

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octofaewrites · 13 days

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Octofae’s Fic List™️

All of my works can be find here:

I write for a variety of fandoms, so here we go - fandoms include: Bleach, Pokémon, Winx Club, and a few others!

Bleach - IchiRuki

Series

Masaki Lives! AU

Bleach, but Masaki was the parent who lived instead of Isshin.

The Noodle Saga

Crack Series involving Ichigo pining away for Rukia while Renji is trying to protect his captain’s dignity. (He is terrible at it.)

The Mystery of the Rukongai Crater

Paranormal Investigators, but make it Hallmark!AU

Conversations with the Future In-Laws

Hypothetical scenarios where Ichigo & Rukia talk to their future in-laws.

IchiRuki Month

Collection of works for IchiRuki Month

IchiRuki Week

Collection of works for IchiRuki Week

Stand Alone Stories

Performance Review

Three Casual Acquaintances™️ start a podcast as they try to solve the mystery of the sudden death of a neighbor in their swanky apartment complex.

Operation Christmas Play

Ichigo is trying to be romantic and Urahara has the connections.

Bleach - Others

Ready, Set, Caw….?

Renji/Orihime - jokefic written for a friend! Two dingdongs try to make cookies and a random crow keeps trolling them.

Through space and time, my love belongs to you (Chapter 1)

GrimmIchiRuki - Rukia is getting married to Grimmjow and Ichigo is sad because he’s hopelessly in love with them both - his life is surely over… or is it?

This story is a multi-author, round-robin project for GIR weekend!

Other Writers: kleinegirl87, AiTsuki97, Mako_After_Dark, AriadneKurosaki

Pokémon -

Pokémon: Brilliant Diamond & Shining Pearl

Merry Mishaps

Dawn, Lucas and Berry decided to exchange presents. Their starters do a bad job of being helpful.

No pairings - Written for the Pokémon Winter Wonderland Zine 2023

Pokémon: Legends Arceus / Diamond/Pearl/Platinum - VoloKari

Series

Somewhere over the Sea

The Pirate AU that no one needed or asked for.

Conversations at the Company Water Cooler

Idiot coworkers in a situationship and too dumb to admit they’re dating.

Sweet Like Honey

Friends with Benefits™️ who are benefiting across Hisui.

As the World Falls Down

Angsty Soulmate AU, where I don’t let them be together.

Volokari Week

Collection of stories I did for Volokari Week 2023

Stand Alone Stories

Déjà Vu - I’ve just been in this Place Before

I want to be cool and do a reimagining of PL:A; I’m just not cool.

Time Won’t Fly (Dead Dove - MIND THE TAGS)

Akari not in a good place.

Doll (Dead Dove - MIND THE TAGS)

Akari is not having a good time. Set in BumbleTee’s Cop AU

When My World Shakes, I Feel Alive

Sweet conversation between Dawn/Volo after getting her drunk idiot roommates to bed.

Shopping is Serious Business

Crackfic. Volo’s real punishment for trying to subjugate Arceus is having to go shopping with his daughter and her equally high maintenance friend.

Pokémon: Scarlet & Violet - Arviana

Safe & Sound

Juliana is tired from her near death experiences and meeting ghosts and gets a much needed Arven-hug.

Sucker.

Arven can’t tell Ogerpon no.

Treasure

Arven reflects on how his family is his treasure

Paradise is Nothing but a Smile

Arviana Picnic Date!

And, maybe it was ego swinging

The AU where Turo pulled his head out of his ass and was a parent to Arven.

Home is Where the Heart Is

Juliana made it back from Blueberry Academy and is beyond glad to be reunited with Arven

Pokémon: Scarlet & Violet - Draymine

I created a Discord Server for Drayton x Carmine which also features Arviana and Kieran x Lacey - Other ships are welcome! It can be joined HERE - (18+ Please!)

Series

You are in Love

An on-going series featuring snapshots through Drayton and Carmine’s relationship.

Stand Alone Stories

Well, this is a choice

Jokefic - Kieran sees that Crispin has awful dragon claws for feet and Drayton and Carmine’s alone time keeps getting interrupted.

#herbamysticashipping #mintteashipping #arviana #drayton x carmine #Draymine #volokari #ichiruki #bleach #pokémon #pokémon scarlet and violet #pokémon legends arceus #archive of our own #fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #bleach fanfiction #pokemon games

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emeraldspiral · 4 days

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if you've watched Gravity Falls, how do you think a crossover with Invader Zim would be? Would Dib try to summon Bill Cipher to catch Zim? How would that backfire? Zim maybe follows Dib to Gravity Falls. Also, I think maybe unlike Dib, Dipper and Mabel would like to befriend Zim even if he's an alien, tho' Zim would push them away or be scared of they knowing he's an alien, while Zim denies everything and Dib tries to expose him; also Mabel being friendly with everyone and maybe the voice of reason (because she's neither straight nor a man xD), Ford being the father wishes he had also maybe Dib venting to Dipper how Dipper and Mabel are better siblings than him and Gaz. Also that crashed UFO. I can see both Dib AND Zim wanting to explore that place. Dib because it’s a crashed alien ship and Zim because he knows how rare alien life is in this part of the galaxy and he wants to know what exactly came here. Ending with Dipper forced to leave, because I think he'd love to stay in a place so full of paranormal, but he can at least get a way to stay in contact with Dipper (as a treat) and he finally gets a human friend by his age. Sorry for yapping too much.

I think IZ and GF have different rules in play. In IZ, everyone is terminally stupid except Dib and no one's allowed to see through Zim except for him. But in GF, nobody's as stupid as the average Zim character, and plenty of people are allowed to recognize and admit that the paranormal exists. Dipper is basically the Dib of his universe, so it'd be really OOC for him to either not see that Zim is an alien or not believe Dib about him being a hostile alien.

I could see a scenario where Dib knows Zim is at GF, but hasn't found him yet, bumps into Dipper, they hit it off and he believes Dib about Zim. Meanwhile, Zim runs into Mabel. She recognizes that he's an alien immediately, but Zim pretends to be benevolent and she buys it and he becomes her new Crush of the Week. She doesn't believe Dipper and Dib when they finally meet up to warn her about Zim, because she's been with him all day and he's been "nothing but a perfect gentlemen". But then Zim inevitably shows his true colors and Mabel gets her heart broken once again, but then she switches to Dib as the target of her affections after seeing the way he handled that alien jerk who lied and messed with her feelings.

Dib, upon meeting Bill absolutely would fail to heed Dipper's warnings because he overestimates how much of a threat Zim is and his own ability to outsmart Bill.

Because GF's world is softer than IZ's and we're playing by their rules since the story's taking place on their turf, the ending wouldn't be super harsh on Dib. Dipper and Mabel would save him and he'd feel like an ass for not listening to Dipper after Dipper was the first person to ever listen to him. But Dipper would forgive him, recognizing that he was just desperate to stop Zim and thought he was doing the right thing. Overall, Dib would really enjoy his time in GF, but knows he can't stay there because duty calls him to return to his city to keep watch over Zim, but maybe he dreams of moving there after he graduates because it's basically his idea of paradise.

#ask #asks #tinyriver-neonlights #invader zim #gravity falls #mabel's crush on dib would be one-sided #because dib's ace #and his only love is the paranormal #so #dadr #and #zadr #are the only pairings that stand a chance with him

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mrscakeishere · 7 months

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*taps mic* Is this thing on? Hello world. I'm new to Tumblr, but I'm also kinda old. I now own reading glasses.

This blog is a place for sharing fanfiction that I am trying to write and enjoying various fandoms (Good Omens, Star Trek, Discworld, and others).

I've loved all the fandoms above for a good long while now, but ended up here because Good Omens season 2 came out just as a chronic illness turned my life completely upside down and I'm mostly stuck at home. Season 2's ending left me a little, er, (obsessed? heartbroken?) in need of a community of like-minded souls. So, fandom and fanfic are keeping my mind busy and very happy and calm while I try to physically feel better and (im)patiently wait for the official word that there will be a Season 3.

THERE WILL BE A SEASON 3.

I also like plants. Below (l to r) is Crowley, Mrs. Cake, and Aziraphale. (Windle Poons was too ill to be in this picture.)

[Update 12/4/23]. Here are some fic links, now that I have them.

Good Omens

Pass the Remote, Angel (M): Crowley and Muriel bond over X-Files. Supreme Archangel Aziraphale disappears. Chaos ensues.

The Gift of an Invitation (T): How Crowley was first invited to the bookshop.

Back in the Good Old World (T): Mostly me being nostalgic about the 90s and putting poor Crowley and Aziraphale in it. Sorry, not sorry.

A Demon Gets His Due (M): Ficlet. Crowley discovers AO3 and GO tags.

Deep Space Omens Series (GO/Star Trek crossovers)

Angels are from Heaven, Demons are from Hell (GO/TNG/DS9)(M): Crowley and Aziraphale have long-term relationship issues so they go on vacation.

The Layover Before Home (GO/DS9) (M): They're still on vacation. It's an extra stop to DS9.

Messin' Around the Delta Quadrant (GO/VOY) (M): Aziraphale is desperate to do some good in the world, but Earth is a paradise. Also, they go to couples counseling.

Enterprising Aziracrow (GO/TNG) (M): They end up in the Nexus and have to find their way home. (Not yet complete.)

Other GO Crossovers

Wellington's Second Coming (GO/Wellington Paranormal) (T): O'Leary and Minogue get a call about a domestic dispute.

#intro post #blog intro #good omens 2 #good omens #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #plants #discworld #hello tumblr

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doiefy · 11 months

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ballroom extravaganza (m?) // kim doyoung, jung jaehyun // preview

The house on the hill has been a mystery for some time. Some say hell, most say heaven—but for the good and wicked alike, it remains a safe haven built by a faceless group known as the Seraphim, on a foundation of secrets they're willing to take to their graves.

For 27-year-old Jung Jaehyun trying to escape a family and job he hates, the manor is an easy distraction: wealth and extravagance where no one knows his name, and endless entertainment riddled with the type of danger he craves. But for the Seraph who catches Jaehyun's eye one late night, it's nothing short of home. Although held together by a twisted love and afflicted by paranormal activity, the mysterious inhabitants of the house are Doyoung's only semblance of family.

Whether by fate or sheer coincidence, the two are brought together to reevaluate the ground they stand upon, and the horrors buried beneath. And to come to the slow realization: their worst fears have been in front of them the entire time, rooted firmly in both their mortal bodies and broken souls.

genre: angst, paranormal, horror

pairing: kim doyoung x jung jaehyun (yeah i'm fully aware that you nerds don't read mxm but did I ask? no :))

word count: 4.2k preview, ~50k full fic

warnings: heavy language, blood and violence, minor character death, smoking. full fic includes alcohol, drugs, sexual content (not explicit smut but heavy references to/implications of rather intense sexual relationships. despite this, minors pls dni for everyone's sanity), some vague indication of undiagnosed mental conditions and stigma, generally this fic is pretty heavy but I've become desensitized as fuck writing it lmfao.

expected release: july 2023 at the latest or i will literally go insane

this was very much (and obviously) inspired by dpr ian's mito 2, from the general ✨vibes✨ to the chapter titles. absolute banger of an album, do give it a listen while reading. tag list available by dm/ask.

one: seraph

The skies begin to bleach red And the stars begin to fall.

AT DUSK, Seraph’s Hill was truly a surreal sight to behold.

It held the briefest moment between evening and night frozen in time. While the rest of the world darkened to a deep indigo, the property sat isolated, still bathed in a brilliant amber glow. All beige brick and polished marble, it seemed to cradle the sun’s remains between its soaring rooftops and overgrown balconies. It stopped the celestial bodies in their orbits, rewriting time, rewriting space and natural law, all in some vain attempt to retain a few more minutes of daylight. The fountains spewed molten gold, the gardens flashed iridescent colours, and the stone statues lit their wings ablaze.

It wasn’t especially angelic or heavenly, despite its name. It was hardly coherent, if you stared at it for long enough: a strange mismatch of architecture styles, something vaguely between Mediterranean revival and neoclassical, with gothic fountains out front. The lack of coordination was all due to Leliel’s indecision at the time of its construction—so thought the estate’s various visitors. But as the original story went among the Seraphim, Azrael had murdered the original contractor, prompting the hiring of a second person to finish the job.

On this particular evening, the pearly gates swung open for a black car. Behind the wheel, Kim Doyoung looked out across the property—he had one hand steering the vehicle, and the other hanging casually out the window with a cigarette stuck between two fingers. The gates closed behind him, silently, on well-oiled hinges. Even the automated clang of the lock was muted, so as to not disturb guests; peace was just another one of Leliel’s attempts to emulate paradise.

He pulled the car up the driveway, making quick observation of the yard. There was no one in sight; no sign of his contact, and only a handful of familiar vehicles parked behind the west wing. He was to meet a man who had every ill intention against the Seraphim; and it seemed he had arrived too early.

Most would feel restless at this point, either overthinking the entire ordeal or simply irritated by the notion of waiting, yet Doyoung was strangely calm. He parked the car, snapped the key out of the ignition, and hastily pulled the visor down to check his reflection.

The goal was to look effortlessly presentable for this meeting, and not like he had been on the road for several hours. Unfortunately, the black eyes that stared back at him from the mirror harboured exhaustion. The smoke spilling from his lips made for an even harsher appearance, leeching the colour from his cheeks and adding grey streaks to his long locks of jet hair. Someone had once told him he was a visually conflicting person: all soft curves dressed in angular shapes, fair skin marked with black tattoos, a gentle voice paired with an intense gaze. He understood now, their reasons for confusion, and how his strange sense of fashion could be disadvantageous at times like these.

He combed his fingers through his hair and tied it at the base of his neck—as well as he could, anyways; it was still too short to stay in place for too long. A bit of cream to soothe the dry patches of skin on his hands, then the cheap cologne he kept in his bag, to mask the potent smell of gas and blood. The cigarette met his lips one last time before he climbed out of the car and crushed it underfoot.

“There you are.”

Doyoung turned, his back meeting the side of his car as he searched for the source of noise. Confusion took him a moment later, when he registered a woman’s voice and a soft silhouette on the wall—dusted with the golden rays of sunset, harmoniously one with the gentle autumn breeze. She stepped out of the shadows in a flash of long, silver hair and silver jewellery. With mean eyes and a deep crease in her brow, she must have been in her early, if not late, thirties.

This certainly wasn’t who Doyoung had agreed to meet with.

“I’m sorry?” his voice came out relaxed, almost a little slurred. There was a long pause before he spoke again, this time tired. “Prince Seir sent you?”

“Foolish boy,” the woman murmured; her speech was so unnecessarily dignified and irritating, but Doyoung said nothing of it. He wouldn’t bother.

Instead, he mustered a wry grimace. “You are Prince Seir, then.” He gave a curious tilt of his head. “Why waste so much of your time convincing me that you were a man?”

“You lot who frequent this hellhole don’t seem like the type to take a woman seriously,” she snorted, throwing her head back. Her silver hair cascaded down her back, catching moonlight between each individual strand. “The women here are treated like whores and servants, isn’t that right? You likely call them to your room for entertainment.”

Doyoung scoffed. “I don’t care for women, ma’am. Never have.” He paused, realizing how that must have sounded to her. “I’m not interested in women.” It didn’t seem to help; she pointed an accusing finger at him.

“You’re really something, boy.“

“And you’re a bitch who’s wasting my time, despite my trying to take her seriously. Now, are you going to give me a job? Or will we be here all night?”

The woman stared at him for another long moment, clearly enraged. Doyoung almost wondered if he was hallucinating—her figure seemed to phase in and out of existence, and her deep anger was so out of place on a set of soft features. She could’ve been a trick of the light, a product of the disturbed mind; and Doyoung could wake up stoned and piss drunk, nowhere near the current scene. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

At last, she spoke. Paired with a deliberate, impatient gesture of her hand came the words: “Come with me.”

Doyoung obliged, following her out of the lot. They walked wordlessly up a gravel road and past a gate, into a garden. It was surrounded on all sides by white walls and arched windows—the centrepiece of the property. Eden was a stunning display of wealth and beauty.

Lanterns dangled from every rooftop, flanking tall, white columns. Water spilled from a colossal arrangement of natural stone. Twin paths of interlocking stones circled the pool, splitting at a particular junction where they then lead to several smaller courtyards. Each alcove housed a statue and overflowing pot of vibrant flowers that climbed up the walls on twirling stems. Doyoung paused before a marble statue of a young maiden and dropped a single coin in her basket, as had become customary. Supposedly Israfel had started the tradition after waking up hungover at her feet.

But the silver-haired lady ahead of him didn’t seem to know this; and even if she did, she didn’t care. Seir snapped her fingers impatiently, and Doyoung hurried to catch up.

They arrived at an alcove on the opposite side of the space, and were greeted by a stone king on his throne. He stared down at them unkindly, his fist tight around his scepter. Without hesitation, the woman reached for his crown, stuck her hand within the circlet of stone, and pushed. The back wall of the alcove, covered all over with ivy and wild begonias, quivered. Then with just the slightest resistance, it swung inwards to reveal a dark tunnel.

The woman fished a flashlight out of her pocket and switched it on. “The Seraphim’s lair.” She gave the stone king a patronizing pat on the shoulder, then sneered at him in contempt, “Hidden behind a statue of a king. A little too on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” Doyoung muttered wryly, and followed her into the tunnel.

With a bit of effort, they replaced the wall, though Doyoung thought it was an issue of little importance; at this hour, most would be far too intoxicated to notice.

Once the wall had been pushed flush against the statue, they were swallowed by darkness. The flashlight did little against it, but Seir forged ahead with confidence, leaving Doyoung to stumble along. It was silent for the first few minutes, before classical music began to drift through the walls, adagio and mezzo piano. Snippets of conversation followed. There was a broken moan, and then a flirtatious laugh. Slow inhales. Satisfied exhales. Deep within the walls of the property, the pair bore witness to a multitude of illicit activities.

At long last, it fell quiet again. The ground began to slope downwards, steeper and steeper, until it reached a short flight of stairs. Seir paused at the bottom, feeling carefully along the wall for something. All of a sudden, a dirty yellow glow washed across the room—what looked like a storage closet, only about two arm spans across. Pinned to the furthest wall was an arrangement of photos and notes: the Seraphim, their names, images, details, entire floor plans for the estate in which they supposedly lived.

“What is this?” Doyoung asked. He was taken aback, to say the least, by the sheer amount of detail, not to mention the unknown motivations behind it all. He stepped forward to take a closer look, reaching instinctively for the photo that had slipped loose from the corkboard. The image of a striking man with black hair and eyes flashed before him, then vanished as Seir slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch,” she hissed.

“I was looking.”

“Look with your eyes. You’ll touch them soon enough.”

“These are the targets?” Doyoung raised a brow, doing a quick count of the photos. Eight. “All eight of them?”

Seir gave a dissatisfied growl. “I did most of the work, didn’t I? How difficult could it possibly be for you to kill them, when all the details are so conveniently prepared for you?”

“I wasn’t complaining,” Doyoung snapped. “And I don’t doubt my abilities. I doubt your abilities in miraculously tracking down every last detail about the eight most mysterious men in the city. Forgive me when I say I’m skeptical.”

“That isn’t your concern as a contract killer. You have no loyalties, you’re paid to do as I tell you, not to refute—”

Doyoung snorted in disbelief. “I’m not allowed to be curious? Believe me, you’re not the only person who has been after the Seraphims’ true identities. This house is a mystery, and I want to know how you solved it.”

There was a beat of empty silence. Then the woman's lips curled back in visible disgust, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth. Her hatred was unmistakable. “Go dig through a shithole first, go get dirt under your fingernails, go whore yourself out to the most despicable scum of the earth, then maybe you’ll figure it out yourself. You have no idea what I’ve done just to get here.”

“Well, then I commend you—”

“Your praise won’t change my mind, boy.”

Doyoung frowned. So she was conceited enough to be condescending, but not quite enough to break at his praise. Fine. He could resort to other methods.

He turned his attention back to the Seraphim, noting their angelic names and dangerous appearances. No two looked the same—each visually unique on their own—yet when lined up one after the next, they began to blur into an indecipherable, melted concoction of facial features. Brown eyes and dark gazes. Grey hair, wild manes, red lips, stained mouths. Uriel scowled at him from behind a pair of red-tinted glasses. Matariel watched with immense judgement, as if her hair wasn’t white as snow and there wasn’t a thick layer of cream blush smoothed over her cheeks.

“You’re missing one,” Doyoung noticed after a few moments—an obvious gap between Leliel and Uriel, and a name written in big, black letters: “Azrael.”

“He’s been dealt with,” Seir replied shortly.

“Didn’t leave his photo up? X his eyes out with a red marker, maybe?”

“You talk too much,” she hissed in frustration. “And Azrael was the worst of them. A cold-blooded murderer. He killed my brother.”

Doyoung scoffed. “And you hiring me to kill eight people doesn’t make you any worse than him?”

“You have no idea what type of people they are. You have no idea what they do.”

He sighed, taking two steps back. The shadows parted for him, and the room fell incredibly still, incredibly silent—and it did so incredibly quickly. One second, the woman’s voice bounced back and forth between the walls, filling the entire space with anger and disdain. The next, she was barely a whisper. Standing about an arms’ length away from Doyoung with her back turned to him, she had become strangely small in his eyes.

“I’m well aware of the things we do, dear prince.”

The silence wavered, trembling as metal appeared between Doyoung’s fingers. There was a visible refraction against the far wall and a shrill warning as something cut through the air. Then his left hand was on the woman’s shoulder and his right was drawing metal across the soft flesh of her throat. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, and her eyes bulged out of her skull.

“You killed an innocent man,” he murmured.

He let her crumble to the ground.

The waves crashed. Crimson lapped at his shoes. The weapon hung limply at his side, dripping rhythmically, shimmering with molten amber. He watched the pigment seep into the dead woman’s hair; he watched the white strands float down the red river. Unconsciously, he let a string of curses spill from his lips, then reached for his lighter. What a mess.

Azrael walked out of the room a few minutes later, picking blood off of his nails and bleeding smoke from the mouth.

“You’re making a mess, Doyoung.”

Doyoung looked down. Indeed, there was a trail of bloody footprints behind him: where he stood, they were pink marks against the glossy floor tile, and where the door opened to the hallway, they glistened bright red. Too distracted by his thoughts and the gruelling cleanup after Seir’s murder, he simply hadn’t realized.

Now Johnny peered at him impassively from behind his desk—neither understanding nor upset, simply observing and strangely quiet. Doyoung could feel similar stares from the others around the room; though the other Seraphim were more forthcoming with their opinions, much more outspoken than their leader. Yuta sat in the corner, snickering in amusement and wiping at the red lenses of his glasses. Donghyuck waved at him mockingly. Jungwoo mumbled a pointed comment beneath his breath.

Scowling to himself, Doyoung stepped out of his shoes. He approached Johnny’s desk without them, and set the evidence down for his inspection: a clear plastic bag that held every photo, every paper, every piece of writing from Prince Seir’s wall. In his annoyance and carelessness while taking them down from the cork board, he’d torn several pieces and crudely taped them back together.

“How did you kill him?” Jungwoo crooned from where he sat, fanning his freshly-painted nails with a magazine.

Doyoung responded with only a finger drawn over his throat and a quiet correction: “Her. It was a woman.”

“And how did she manage to piece this all together?” Johnny asked; the room quickly returned its attention to him. He had laid the images out on the table, and was glowering down at them—as if flimsy, blood-stained papers still had potential to do harm. Perhaps they did; the notion of intruders and spies in their midst was hardly encouragement.

“Ugh! That’s the photo on my driver’s license!” Donghyuck cut in, whining obnoxiously as he sauntered over, clearly and horrifyingly drunk. He reached for the two halves of his photo, only to have them snatched away by Johnny.

“Enough,” the elder grunted, gently pushing Donghyuck into a chair and returning his attention to Doyoung. “Well? Do you know?”

Doyoung hesitated—he knew exactly who Johnny would blame if he told him—and he resisted the urge to look at the person in question. “She found the old service tunnel in the east wing,” he started, then paused to survey the leader for his reaction: Johnny narrowed his eyes, but said nothing for the time being. “She snuck around our quarters through the walls and installed cameras in the air vents. That was enough for her to get images of our faces and hear our names.”

“And what about you? She had never seen you before tonight?”

“No. I got lucky. The vents in my room aren’t part of the network in the east wing, and even if they were, I was out of town for a few weeks. She mistook Jeno for me while I was gone.”

Johnny’s jaw tightened. “And she had him killed.”

“Yes.”

The revelation brought a deathly hush. Doyoung was right: they had gotten lucky. Had Seir hired any other person to kill them, had they been even a little less prepared, any one of them could have met the same fate as Jeno.

“Mark,” Johnny sighed at last, locking gazes with the one person who had kept his quiet this entire time. “Come here.”

Mark obediently shuffled to his feet, rising out of the shadows. The expression on his face was already wounded, like he knew what was to come; and when he stood motionless before the leader with his head lowered, he took on the form of a child awaiting chastisement. For several moments, Johnny simply looked him up and down, all prior emotion having disappeared from his eyes. For several moments, the air hung still, as they all held back from doing anything they might regret.

Then Johnny lashed out, striking Mark across the cheek with little remorse.

The sharp sound of contact rang through the room, snapping everyone back to attention. Yuta looked up, frowning. Doyoung tensed. Even Donghyuck seemed to sober, and momentarily quit his garbled whining.

They all knew: Johnny didn’t get violent often.

“John,” Yuta said in soft warning, but it went disregarded.

“This keeps happening, Mark,” Johnny said lowly, leaning forward against the desk so he could stoop a little lower and meet the younger man’s gaze. “Why is that? Did you forget what I asked you to do?”

Mark shook his head no—he remembered exactly what he had been told—but Johnny answered for him anyway. “I said we needed to tighten up our security. Any corridors we’ve stopped using, any rooms that could potentially give us away, I told you to block them off. So why haven’t you?”

There was a shaky breath. “Taeil said not to.”

“Taeil told you that?”

Mark nodded slowly. “He still needs access to plumbing. And ventilation. So I made the corridor accessible on both sides, but only to us— I-I thought he told you—”

“Fine. If Taeil said not to, fine,” Johnny snapped. “But you can do better than some hidden fucking entrance behind a statue that anyone can find.” The pause that came directly afterwards conveyed an even harsher warning. His voice dropped in volume, not low enough to be inaudible, but enough to sound especially cold. “You disappoint me, Mark. You’ve disappointed me too many times. For your sake and the rest of our sakes, I hope this is your last.”

“Johnny,” Yuta called his name again, this time sharply. “Lay off him.”

“When he learns his lesson,” Johnny replied through clenched teeth. “He could’ve gotten one of us killed. Hell, Jeno’s already—”

“You’ve put him through enough.”

Watching wordlessly from the sidelines, Doyoung expected Johnny to snap—to round on Yuta the way he had with Mark, claiming to have done no wrong. He waited for the room to dissolve into chaos, as it often did. But to his surprise, Johnny stayed quiet. He averted his gaze, clenched his jaw, and held back the words that were clearly on his tongue. “You can go, Mark,” he said at last, his expression easing from anger to discontentment when he caught sight of Yuta on his right. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

And to the rest of the Seraphim present, “You’re all dismissed. Doyoung, I’d like a word.”

Mark shuffled out of the room with his eyes still glued to his feet. The rest hauled a drunk Donghyuck along, and Yuta brought up the rear; he closed the door on his way out, leaving Doyoung and Johnny alone.

“You’ve been hard on Mark,” Doyoung said after a few moments, once the footsteps in the hall had faded away.

“I’ve been hard on everyone,” Johnny corrected him. There hung an air of exhaustion around the angel of night, and it was clear as day. His hair hung in dark tendrils around his face. His complexion had gone uneven, dark around his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping well. While he usually donned various silver accents and expensive accessories to blend into the crowd upstairs, his appearance tonight was rather plain. Doyoung had left town on business only two weeks prior; but this and the thick tension he witnessed earlier suggested things had taken a turn since then.

“Should I be glad that I wasn’t here?” Doyoung asked, noting the collection of cigarette stumps in Johnny’s ashtray—it was normally empty.

And Johnny replied shortly, “I’m sure things were worse on your end.”

He wasn’t wrong; the red stains in the backseat of Doyoung’s car and the duffle bag he’d thrown in a bonfire were enough testament.

“Well, the cleanup was rather—”

Johnny wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I don’t want details.”

Doyoung watched in mild amusement as the leader rummaged restlessly around his desk for something. “I’m worried,” Johnny said absentmindedly as he produced a new pack of cigarettes from the drawer. So the collection of black remains in the ashtray did belong to him, Doyoung concluded as he watched; it seemed Johnny had fallen prey to old habits.

“About what?”

He was left waiting for an answer while Johnny fished a lighter from his pocket and raised it to the cigarette between his lips.

“Everything,” came the delayed reply, flat and emotionless, tight with irritation. “Business has been getting worse. Guests are getting bored and leaving for good. Taeil’s gone off the rails too. He’s deaf to reason.”

“What did he do now?”

“He thinks he can solve all our issues with chemistry.” His face lit up with remembrance. “Right, don’t drink the tap water, he’s laced it with something.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again. Some sort of sedative. He thinks it’ll keep people soft and pliant and dumb enough to consider extending their stay. It doesn’t matter, because it won’t work. Now all of this—” Johnny spread his hands for emphasis. “—these people sneaking around the house and trying to unearth secrets that don’t exist? Strangers putting bounties on our heads when we’ve done nothing wrong?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re completely innocent.”

Johnny gave a bark of emotionless laughter; he couldn’t deny it. The drugs and illicit substances, Doyoung’s side hustle in contract killing, Taeil’s bloodied lab in the basement, countless other things that he had lost track of. All for the sake of found family, for the sake of the most important people in his life and for the sake of their collective sanity, he would allow it.

“Tell me everything,” he said at last, resting his smoke on the rim of the bronze tray.

“Everything about…?”

“This Prince Seir you met.”

So Doyoung told him. He told him about the strange trails that had been left in dark corners of the internet and old clubs of a nearby town. They were subtle messages, sent by an individual who needed a “job” fulfilled on Seraph’s Hill. He told him about Taeyong, who had noticed a strange alias checking in and out of the estate every now and then, the same one Doyoung had seen online. Then about Jungwoo, who passed Doyoung’s name through groups and groups of distant associates, until it reached Seir herself—at which point she contacted him by email.

Johnny never interrupted nor spoke. He maintained the same posture in his chair and took occasional drags from his cigarette, never moving more than was required. Though he was quiet, he was hardly a good listener: unresponsive, horribly vague when he did react, always maintaining an overwhelming presence that loomed uncomfortably over Doyoung as he spoke. He felt as if he was talking to a brick wall, and at the same time, like the brick wall was staring into the very depths of his soul, passing judgement on every word that came out of his mouth.

“You’re on the internet often, then, if that’s how you stumbled across her.” Johnny peered at him with intrigue when he finished. “Forums dedicated to us, online discussion about us… Tell me, what do people say about Seraph’s Hill?”

“A lot of bullshit.”

Johnny was cross. “What do they say?”

“That we’re a house of mysteries. That it’s strange, how people can come in sober and ready to unearth our secrets, but always wake up wasted the next morning.”

“Doing drugs does that to you.”

“The water tastes weird. The statues in the back gardens are creepy. The whiskey is fucking overpriced, and the blonde bartender is sexy. That kind of bullshit.”

Johnny said nothing. For the next minute and a half, they listened to the gurgling of water in the fountains and the classical music from the ballroom. The hands of the clock behind them moved along without noise, but Doyoung heard ticking in his head.

“Thank you,” Johnny said at last, and put his cigarette to the dusty metal of the ashtray. A steady stream of smoke escaped his fingers, fading to nothing. “You can go now.”

Doyoung got up from where he sat, only to see his leader’s expression shift once more—almost like he’d remembered something important. There was a momentary pause, and he seemed softer.

“It’s good to have you back, Doyoung.”

He nodded in agreement; it was good to be home.

On the other side of the property, moonlight fell between the iron gates of hell—illuminating the crimson streaks on the prince’s face, and guiding the two figures who escorted her. Her silver hair made glimmering lines on the concrete, and her broken body scraped haphazardly along the ground. There was no need to be delicate, so long as her innards remained intact for what was to come next. She passed into the underground, eyes wide and unmoving, frozen in their sockets.

And a cloud passed over the moon.

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yanderes-galore · 7 months

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For my second request, may I request Walter Sullivan from Silent hill 4, the room? I’d imagine that he could be a cool Yandere to do. It can either be headcanons or if reader was supposed to be a sacrifice at first before he started his obsession with them. Anyways, thank you again for considering doing this request (it’s my final one this open ask box round since everyone deserves a chance to get their ask in 💙) Thanks again!

-MsPlacedHero

I'm not very familiar with Silent Hill 4 yet I did my research! Hope you enjoy :) Just a warning, I made this darker than my usual stories due to the character. So expect triggering themes mentioned in the TW section. You have been warned!

Yandere! Walter Sullivan Concept

(Silent Hill 4: The Room)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Delusional behavior, Obsession, Death, Murder, Mentions of religious sacrifice, Clingy behavior, Trauma, Forced affection, Manipulation, Blood, Stalking, Kidnapping, Breaking and entering, Suicide mention, Cults, Rituals, Mutilation, Haunting/Paranormal, Yandere watches and holds you when you sleep, I get creepy with this one because he is a creepy man, I like to write unhinged characters at times, I don't condone any of this like usual, This is to depict horror, Forced relationship.

When it comes to Walter you can view his obsession as having two different parts.

When he was alive... and when he becomes a ghost.

You most likely first meet Walter when he was alive.

Sometime during his life, before he resorted to the killings, Walter was vulnerable yo kindness.

His view on humanity/society is that they're all cruel in his delusional mind.

So I imagine he'd get attached to you if you tried to help him when he was struggling.

For example, helping him when he was homeless.

Walter hasn't experience much kindness in his life so he easily clings to it, similar to when Eileen gave him her doll as a little girl.

You don't understand why he sobs so much when you try to help him.

Turns out... helping this one homeless man becomes your greatest mistake.

Like you said, Walter may see you as a needed sacrifice to obtain Paradise and see his mother at first.

Once he begins the sacrifices for the ritual he probably begins to stalk you.

Walter would eventually decide not to sacrifice you when his obsession settles in.

He loves your kindness and wants you to direct it towards him.

You may be the one good thing humanity has to offer in his eyes.

So I imagine you'd be spared from his blade... for now.

No, instead your fate may be worse.

You're the obsession of a religious fanatic serial killers who has killed countless victims of all ages for some sort of ritual.

Just because he isn't going to kill you doesn't mean your safe.

Walter most likely has worship yandere characteristics paired with delusional yandere behavior.

He sees you as important to him and feels he should pursue you.

You should witness paradise... you seem like you deserve it.

Walter most likely has no idea how to process romantic attraction.

He hasn't been close enough to anyone to really explore it.

So why does he feel this obsessive need to be closer to you...

Very close....

I imagine there's a pause in his killings where he just... finds you.

He stalks your home, be it a full house or an apartment.

For now he just watches your life.

Soon he gets bolder and tries to get into your home.

Maybe he succeeds before you notice.

Walter does seem like the type to cling to his darling.

He'll watch you as you sleep, maybe even lightly reach out to touch your skin, afraid you may break or something.

He may even be the type to try and hold you in your sleep to add to the horror of this situation.

He's not a good or sane man.

Walter just seems like a yandere with no boundaries, he feels his darling is perfection and that he's blessed to be in your presence.

Even if you're unaware.

As he's already committed murders by this point, this most likely alerts the cops as you call them out of fear.

In fact, your second "formal" encounter with Walter may be right before he's arrested.

Walter maybe decided to get bolder and tried to enter your home when you were awake.

He coos to you through the door and window about how you're meant to be.

You are a key to paradise and he'll reward you for being so nice in a world of corruption!

Meanwhile all you see is the homeless man you helped years ago trying to break into your home.

Safe to say before Walter can get his hands on you he is arrested.

Which leads into the second part of his obsession.

We all know in the original story he dies in jail by his own hands as the 11th victim of 21 sacrifices.

Which due to the cult he is a part of, he continues on as a ghost to finish the ritual.

I imagine as a ghost he'd immediately haunt his darling while searching for his final victims.

You'll notice it through hallucinations and portals to his "dimension".

The entire time Walter's playing with you, telling you in his own way he's still in your life.

Ghostly touches drift over you and you see visions of him.

Safe to say you feel like you're going insane.

Walter still keeps an eye on you while trying to finish the ritual.

He tells you in "dreams" that he'll show you paradise.

When he eventually meets his supposed "mother" he wants you to meet her.

For some reason he feels a strong connection to you and believes this is "love".

However, Walter most likely has never seen people display this type of love.

So he feels forcing himself into your life to gain your attention must be the right way.

Walter is delusional and thinks you must love him too, even as a ghost.

In his eyes... the fear in your eyes is just excitement.

I unfortunately think your fate is the same even if Walter loves you.

Eventually he feels the only way for you to be together is if you join him.

Which means, sadly, your death.

Walter promises he'll be gentle while he does it because he cares.

He says that as a ghost you can be with him in paradise after the ritual is complete.

So please don't struggle much as he carves the numbers into your flesh...

The pain will finish once he has your heart.

Hearts are needed for the ritual.

Yet for a little while Walter finds himself holding yours in his hands with an expression of adoration.

By the time you wake as a ghost, Walter is there to greet you.

He gives you a smile, claiming it was fate to meet you.

He's happy that he can finally show his love for you.

Here is where you belong... right with him.

Normally acts of kindness towards strangers is rewarded...

However you can barely call this a reward, despite what Walter keeps telling you.

Walter, regardless on if he's alive or not, would be obsessive over your touch.

He wants to hold you and just stay there.

Humanity is corrupt to him... yet you're different.

So he must preserve you.

To him, your murder was not only important for the ritual, but to keep you from becoming like the rest.

In his eyes this is mercy, this is a reward for helping him out.

Now... he's helped you too.

Here, when paradise eventually arrives, he'll take you with him.

He can't wait for you to meet Mother.

#yandere silent hill #yandere silent hill 4 #yandere walter sullivan

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