I Love Fear

🗡️19,Female🗡️ 🗡️Mature content🗡️ 🗡️Hold yourself accountable🗡️

[bleedingreverie]

Rules

Masterlist:

Insert works

My hero academia

Jujutsu Kaisen

Hunter x Hunter

[bleedingreverie]

Don’t Fuckin’ Cry

Yandere Katsuki Bakugo

The door slammed shut behind you.

You barely had time to set your bag down before his voice cut through the room like a whip.

“Took you long enough.”

You froze, heart lurching.

Katsuki Bakugo was already in your apartment — sitting on your shitty couch like he owned it, legs spread, arm draped over the backrest. That same bored, irritated scowl on his face. Like you were the one invading his space.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you snapped, even though your voice trembled.

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked you over, slow. Like he was checking for damage. Or maybe deciding where to start.

Then: “You were out past ten.”

You flinched. “So what?”

“So what?” His voice sharpened. “You think you’re fuckin’ invincible now? Walkin’ around at night with no quirk and a face like that? You’re beggin’ for some asshole to snatch you up.”

You felt your eyes sting.

“I’m not helpless,” you muttered.

He stood.

Wrong move.

He was on you in three strides — chest brushing yours, his palms slamming against the wall behind you, caging you in.

“Bullshit,” he snarled. “You are helpless. And I don’t know why the fuck I like that, but I do.”

His breath was hot. You hated how it made your knees shake.

He stared at you like he could see every fear written across your face.

“You’re all talk,” he muttered. “Actin’ tough when I could level this whole fuckin’ building without breakin’ a sweat.”

You blinked fast — your tears finally falling.

He groaned under his breath and tilted his head, eyes flicking down your face.

“Shit… don’t—don’t do that cryin’ thing.”

You looked away, embarrassed. “I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are.” He caught your chin roughly. “Eyes get all glassy. Voice gets soft. Little shaky like you’re scared I’ll snap your bones in half.”

You swallowed. “Aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours — hard.

His hands shook a little. Not from anger. From restraint.

“You fuck me up,” he growled. “You walk around all soft, useless, actin’ like nobody notices you. Like I don’t see every fuckin’ guy eyein’ you.”

“I’m not—”

“I know you’re not tryin’ to make me jealous,” he hissed. “But you still do.”

You whimpered as his fingers gripped your jaw tighter.

“And when you cry like that…” he dragged his thumb across your cheek roughly, smearing the tear. “Makes me wanna hold you and break you at the same time.”

His voice dropped into something dangerous. “It ain’t fair, how much I want you.”

You sucked in a shaky breath. “Why me?”

He stared at you.

“‘Cause you make me feel like a fuckin’ monster,” he said quietly. “And I like it.”

Silence.

Then he kissed you — harsh, unkind. All teeth and fire and pent-up obsession. His hands cupped your face too hard, like he was scared you’d vanish if he didn’t leave a mark.

You whimpered against his mouth, and he groaned into the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he looked wrecked. Like you had broken him.

“You’re mine,” he said. “You don’t gotta like it. But you better fuckin’ accept it.”

You were still trembling when he pulled you into his arms, burying your face in his neck. He held you there like a shield he never asked for but refused to give up.

“Stay weak,” he muttered again, almost tender now. “I’ll be strong enough for both of us.”

[bunnygirllover45]

happy place

[bleedingreverie]

Normal vs Yandere - Hunter x Hunter

Menthuthuyoupi

Menthuthuyoupi, or Youpi, is a stoic yet deeply emotional character whose approach to relationships is defined by his unwavering loyalty and protective instincts. In a normal relationship, Youpi would be a dependable and steady partner, someone who values actions over words. His love is practical and straightforward; he’s not one for grand romantic gestures but instead expresses his affection by being there for his partner when they need him most. Though Youpi is not the most emotionally expressive, his devotion is clear in how he prioritizes his partner’s well-being above all else. He may sometimes struggle to understand more nuanced emotional needs, but his willingness to learn and grow makes him a strong and reassuring presence in a relationship.

In a yandere dynamic, Youpi’s protective nature turns into a relentless obsession. He views his partner as someone he must shield from all harm, often becoming excessively controlling in the name of their safety. His possessiveness isn’t manipulative or calculated; it’s driven by raw emotion and instinct. Any perceived threat to his partner would unleash his overwhelming rage, and he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate anything or anyone he considers dangerous. A yandere Youpi is terrifying because of his sheer power and lack of restraint, leaving his partner feeling both cherished and trapped. His love is primal and intense, offering no escape from his watchful eye and unyielding grip.

Illumi Zoldyck

Illumi Zoldyck’s cold and calculating personality makes him a challenging yet intriguing partner. In a normal relationship, Illumi approaches love much like everything else in his life: with precision and control. He is not one for emotional displays but shows his care through quiet actions, like ensuring his partner is safe or removing obstacles from their life without them ever knowing. A relationship with Illumi requires a partner who can handle his emotional detachment and understand that his love is expressed in subtle, often indirect ways. While he may not be openly affectionate, Illumi’s loyalty is unwavering, and his partner can trust that he will always protect them, even if his methods are unconventional.

As a yandere, Illumi becomes the epitome of control. His obsession with his partner manifests in his need to oversee every aspect of their life, from who they interact with to where they go. Illumi’s yandere tendencies are rooted in his belief that only he can truly care for his partner, leading him to isolate them from anyone he perceives as a threat. His love is suffocatingly possessive, and his partner would struggle to maintain any sense of autonomy under his watchful gaze. Illumi is not above using fear or manipulation to keep his partner in line, and his cold, calculating nature makes him an almost impossible force to resist.

[bleedingreverie]

Normal vs Yandere - Hunter x Hunter

TW: all characters are aged up! Yandere content ahead. Just an opinion.

Gon Freecss

As an adult, Gon Freecss evolves from his youthful innocence into a more grounded and introspective individual, but his boundless enthusiasm and determination remain at the core of his personality. In a normal relationship, Gon is an energetic and loyal partner who values authenticity and mutual respect. He is someone who finds joy in the simple things, often surprising his partner with spontaneous adventures and heartfelt gestures. Gon thrives on emotional connection, and his open-hearted nature makes him deeply attentive to his partner’s needs. However, his intense drive and occasional recklessness can sometimes strain the relationship, as he may unintentionally prioritize his personal goals over his partner’s concerns. Still, Gon’s unwavering devotion ensures that he is quick to acknowledge his mistakes and work toward building a strong, lasting bond. His ideal relationship is one filled with mutual growth, trust, and a shared sense of wonder for life’s possibilities.

As a yandere, Gon’s sunny disposition masks an obsessive and unyielding attachment to his partner. His love becomes all-consuming, and he struggles to understand boundaries when it comes to protecting and keeping his partner close. Gon’s naturally intense emotions amplify his possessiveness, leading him to isolate his partner from anything or anyone he deems a threat to their happiness or safety. While Gon’s actions are rooted in his genuine care, his inability to handle rejection or loss could push him into darker territory. His cheerful demeanor hides a ferocious side that will stop at nothing to eliminate perceived threats, making him both endearing and terrifying. A yandere Gon is a paradox of warmth and danger, with his partner trapped between his affectionate care and his relentless need for control.

Killua Zoldyck

As an adult, Killua Zoldyck has matured into a confident and emotionally stable individual while retaining his sharp wit and protective nature. In a normal relationship, Killua is a thoughtful and introspective partner who prioritizes his loved one’s happiness and well-being. Having grown up in a toxic environment, he values freedom and mutual respect in a relationship, ensuring that his partner feels supported and safe. Killua’s playful sense of humor and occasional sarcasm add a layer of lightheartedness to his personality, making him an engaging and fun partner. However, his lingering trust issues from his past may make it difficult for him to fully open up, requiring patience and understanding from his partner. Once he lets someone into his heart, Killua is deeply loyal and willing to go to great lengths to ensure their happiness, balancing his protective instincts with respect for their independence.

In a yandere dynamic, Killua’s protective instincts evolve into an intense and consuming obsession. His love for his partner becomes a driving force that compels him to control every aspect of their life, believing it’s his duty to shield them from harm. Killua’s intelligence and cunning make him a subtle and calculated yandere; rather than overt displays of jealousy, he manipulates situations to ensure his partner remains reliant on him. He isolates them not out of malice but from a deep-seated fear of losing them, rationalizing his actions as necessary for their safety and happiness. Killua’s darker tendencies surface when his partner’s loyalty is questioned, unleashing the Zoldyck assassin side that will stop at nothing to eliminate threats. A yandere Killua is a dangerous blend of love and control, offering his partner unwavering devotion at the cost of their freedom.

Leorio Paradinight

Leorio Paradinight, as an adult, is a charismatic and grounded individual who brings stability and warmth to a relationship. In a normal context, Leorio is deeply compassionate and values honesty, often going out of his way to support and encourage his partner. His practical nature means he is reliable and dependable, always striving to ensure the well-being of those he loves. While he might not be as emotionally expressive as others, Leorio’s actions consistently demonstrate his affection and care. He values open communication and is unafraid to stand up for his partner when needed, making him a protective and nurturing figure. Though his sometimes brash personality can lead to occasional misunderstandings, his genuine love and dedication make him an enduring and supportive partner.

In a yandere relationship, Leorio’s natural protectiveness turns into an unrelenting need to safeguard his partner. His obsession with their happiness and safety leads him to overstep boundaries, often making decisions on their behalf under the guise of looking out for their best interests. While Leorio’s yandere tendencies are rooted in his deep love, his inability to trust others around his partner can result in possessive and controlling behavior. He becomes hyper-focused on their needs, often to the detriment of his own well-being, and is willing to confront anyone he perceives as a threat to their relationship. A yandere Leorio is less violent and more emotionally overpowering, suffocating his partner with his constant vigilance and unwavering attention.

Kurapika

As an adult, Kurapika is a deeply introspective and driven individual whose quiet intensity makes him a magnetic presence. In a normal relationship, Kurapika is devoted and fiercely loyal, channeling his strong sense of justice into caring for his partner. He values honesty and mutual respect, often prioritizing his partner’s needs over his own. While he may struggle to balance his personal missions with the demands of a relationship, Kurapika’s genuine love ensures he works to create harmony. His serious nature is balanced by moments of vulnerability, where he opens up about his struggles and allows his partner to see the softer side of his personality. A relationship with Kurapika is built on mutual understanding, emotional depth, and a shared sense of purpose.

In a yandere dynamic, Kurapika’s intense emotions become overwhelming, driving him to obsessive and controlling behavior. His fear of loss and betrayal leads him to monitor every aspect of his partner’s life, believing it’s the only way to protect them. Kurapika’s intelligence and resourcefulness make him a formidable yandere, as he uses his analytical mind to manipulate situations and ensure his partner remains loyal. His possessiveness isn’t overtly aggressive but is instead expressed through quiet but unrelenting control, leaving his partner feeling trapped despite his gentle demeanor. A yandere Kurapika is a complex mix of love and fear, offering his partner unwavering devotion while suffocating them with his need to protect and possess them.

[bleedingreverie]

Yandere Academic Rival

Ink Stains and Obsession

The library was silent, save for the soft rustle of pages turning and the distant hum of fluorescent lights. You sat at your usual spot, the far corner where the shelves seemed to close in around you like an embrace. Books piled high in front of you, their spines cracked with overuse, and your notes sprawled in meticulous handwriting across the table. The weight of an upcoming exam loomed heavy, but your focus remained sharp.

Unbeknownst to you, another presence lingered.

They sat two tables down, their head bowed over their own books, yet their eyes never fully on the text. Instead, they flicked up every so often, gliding over the edges of your figure with a precision that mimicked their academic prowess. To the world, they were perfect—always one step ahead in class, always producing work that bordered on brilliance. To you, they were competition, a constant shadow at your heels.

But to them, you were everything.

Their fascination had begun subtly enough—an innocent rivalry fueled by mutual ambition. But over time, that spark of competition festered into something deeper, darker. The way your pen scratched against the paper, your brows furrowing when a problem stumped you, the way your lips pursed in concentration—it was intoxicating. They memorized these details with the same fervor they reserved for their studies.

Their notebooks were no longer filled solely with equations and essays. Tucked between the pages were stolen glimpses of you—doodles of your profile, fragmented sentences that read like confessions, and the occasional pressed flower they’d picked from outside the library after watching you pause near the garden. They knew it was strange. They knew it was wrong. But the thought of stopping never crossed their mind.

They thrived in your frustration when their name appeared just above yours on the grade list. It wasn’t about being better—it was about being noticed. A flicker of irritation in your eyes, the set of your jaw—those moments were their trophies.

But it wasn’t enough.

Their obsession grew restless, gnawing at the edges of their restraint. When your pen rolled off the table and clattered to the floor, they were there before you could react, handing it back with a faint smile. Their fingers lingered against yours just a second too long, and though you pulled away quickly, the warmth of your touch burned into their skin.

They began leaving little things behind, small tokens only you would understand. A sticky note with a perfectly written formula on the page you’d struggled with, a reference book left open to the exact passage you needed. You never questioned it, too focused on your studies to notice the intricate web tightening around you.

It wasn’t long before the rivalry you cherished turned into something suffocating. Their gaze grew heavier, their presence more persistent. They seemed to be everywhere—on your walk to class, in the cafeteria, at the coffee shop you frequented. And yet, they never spoke.

They didn’t need to.

Their actions spoke volumes. The way their chair was always slightly angled toward you, the way they always chose the book directly beside yours on the shelf, the way they lingered in the library long after everyone else had left. It was as though they were carving out a space in your life, inch by inch, until there was no room left for anyone else.

The culmination came on the night before the final exam. You stayed late, the library nearly deserted. Your notes spread out in a chaotic array, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. You didn’t notice the shadow that moved behind you, didn’t feel the soft tug as they lifted the pen you’d left behind on the desk.

When you returned the next day, it was there—your pen, polished and pristine, placed atop a fresh sheet of paper. Scrawled in perfect handwriting was a single sentence:

“You’ll always come second to me—but only because I can’t bear to let anyone else have you.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of those words sinking in. You glanced around, but the library was empty. Still, the lingering sensation of being watched prickled your skin. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the rivalry you’d once thrived on had become something far more sinister.

And they?

They watched from the shadows, content in the knowledge that their presence would haunt you now, just as you had unknowingly haunted them.

[bleedingreverie]

Yandere x reader

Only For Me

The sound of raindrops tapping against your window should have been calming, but tonight, it felt suffocating. The dim glow of your bedside lamp barely illuminated your room, casting long, flickering shadows across the walls. You curled up on your bed, a textbook spread open before you, but the words blurred together.

Something was wrong.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It started earlier that evening, an almost imperceptible shift in the air, like static electricity crackling under your skin. You had shrugged it off as stress—finals were looming, after all. But now, every creak in the floorboards or groan of the wind made your heart race.

Then came the knock.

Soft, deliberate, almost hesitant. Your body stiffened, every nerve screaming for you to ignore it.

“Y/N…”

The voice was familiar—too familiar. Deep, smooth, and laced with a sweetness that once made you feel safe. Now, it sent chills crawling down your spine.

“Are you there?”

You didn’t answer. Holding your breath, you stared at the door, hoping, praying he would just go away. But he didn’t.

“I know you’re in there.” His voice dropped lower, the sweetness melting into something darker. “Please, don’t make this difficult.”

You scrambled off the bed, heart pounding as you backed away toward the corner of your room. Your phone—where was your phone? Panic surged as you scanned the mess on your desk, only to remember you had left it charging in the kitchen.

The door creaked open.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, stepping inside. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, raindrops dripping from his jacket onto your carpet. Despite his disheveled appearance, his eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity. “I didn’t want to scare you. But you left me no choice.”

“How… how did you get in?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head, a small, almost childlike smile tugging at his lips. “You shouldn’t leave your spare key under the mat. Anyone could find it.”

Your stomach twisted. How long had he been planning this?

“Please, leave,” you said, mustering as much strength as you could. “I’ll call the police if you don’t.”

His smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of hurt. “You don’t mean that.” He took a step closer, and you pressed yourself against the wall, your fingers trembling. “I’ve done so much for you, Y/N. Watched over you. Protected you. Loved you.”

“Protected me? From what?”

“From them.” His jaw clenched, and the warmth in his eyes turned icy. “They didn’t deserve you. None of them did. That guy you went out with last month? He didn’t even bother to ask how your day was. And your so-called ‘best friend’? She only calls when she needs something. But me…” He took another step, and you shrank further away. “I would do anything for you.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “This isn’t love,” you choked out.

“Yes, it is!” The sharpness of his voice made you flinch. But just as quickly, his expression softened, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting on his knees like he was trying to soothe a frightened animal. “I know I’ve scared you. I’m sorry for that. But you’ll understand one day. You’ll see that no one else can love you like I do.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You recoiled, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he cupped your cheek, his touch almost tender.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of everything. You won’t have to worry about a thing anymore. No more studying until you’re exhausted, no more people using you. Just… stay with me. Let me keep you safe.”

His other hand moved to his pocket, and your breath hitched. Was he armed? You glanced toward the door, calculating your chances of escape.

He noticed.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his fingers tightening just enough to keep you still. “Don’t run. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

You swallowed hard, tears streaming down your face as the weight of his words settled over you. You weren’t getting out of this easily.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice a whisper of approval as he wiped your tears with his thumb. “You’ll see. This is how it was always meant to be.”

The last thing you remembered before everything went dark was the sickly sweet scent of chloroform and the haunting promise in his eyes.

“You’re mine now.”

🩷Insert anyone you like🩷

[bleedingreverie]

Thinking about yandere neighbour who becomes completely obsessed with you…

Yandere neighbour who noticed you the moment you moved in next door. The driveway gate to your house was wide open, and you were unloading boxes from your car while movers carried things inside. He was on his way to his car, indifferent as always to whatever was happening around him—until something made him stop. His gaze shifted toward you, and it felt like some invisible force compelled him to look. There you were, and everything else seemed to fade away.

Yandere neighbour who, for a brief second, forgets how to breathe. The cold morning air catches in his lungs, his heart skips, then pounds in a way he’s never felt before. He freezes, eyes locked on you as if the world has slowed just for him. He sees the sunlight glinting off your hair, the way you move with an effortless grace, and suddenly, even the air feels sharper, cleaner. You carry a box up to the door, unaware of the impression you’ve left.

Yandere neighbour whose family wealth dates back to the Industrial Revolution, giving him the kind of life most people envy. He’s tall, lean, and objectively good-looking, but there’s always been something about him—an intensity that keeps people at arm’s length. Women, in particular, tend to steer clear, finding him too unsettling to approach. He’s never cared, though—at least, not until now.

Yandere neighbour who can’t stop thinking about you in the days that follow. You’re on his mind constantly, though he doesn’t even know your name yet. He sits at home, lost in thought, wondering who you are and what your life is like. He looks like some brooding philosopher, chin resting on his hand, eyes staring into the distance as if he’s contemplating the mysteries of the universe—but really, it’s just you.

Yandere neighbour who starts watching for any sign of you. A car door slamming, a burst of laughter, the sound of footsteps—all of it sends him rushing to the nearest window, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Even the faintest trace of your presence is enough to set his heart racing. Weeks go by, and though you’ve been living next door, he hasn’t even worked up the courage to say hello.

Yandere neighbour who starts to develop a routine, carefully orchestrated around the hope of seeing you. He begins taking morning walks, though he never cared much for exercise before. His route? Right past your house, of course. He lingers just long enough to see if there’s movement behind your curtains or if you might step outside. Each morning he tells himself, Maybe today.

Yandere neighbour who finds himself imagining how conversations with you might go. He plays out entire scenarios in his head—how he’d introduce himself, how you’d smile and laugh at his attempts to be charming. He rehearses lines while pacing in his living room, muttering softly, “Hi, I’m your neighbor…no, too formal. Maybe…Hey, need a hand with anything? Ugh, that’s terrible!” But despite all his planning, he never follows through.

Yandere neighbour who starts noticing the small details about you. The color of your car, the way your laugh carries over the fence on sunny afternoons, even the flowers you’ve planted in your front yard. He doesn’t know much about you yet, but in his mind, he’s convinced you’re perfect.

Yandere neighbour whose obsession deepens without him realizing it. He starts staying up late, lights off, staring out his window at your house. He watches for the glow of your bedroom light or the silhouette of you passing by. It’s not creepy, he tells himself—it’s admiration.

Yandere neighbour who convinces himself that fate must have brought you into his life. After all, he’s never cared about anyone this much before. It’s different with you. It’s special. And that’s why he can’t just walk over and introduce himself—it has to be perfect.

Yandere neighbour who finally takes action one day when he sees you struggling with groceries. You’re balancing two bags in one hand while trying to unlock your door with the other. He doesn’t even think—he’s at your side in seconds. “Here, let me help you,” he says, voice steady, though his heart feels like it might burst.

You look up at him, surprised but grateful, and smile. “Oh, thank you! That’s so kind of you.”

And just like that, it’s as if the world clicks into place for him. For the first time, he’s close enough to notice the faint scent of your perfume, the warmth in your eyes, the way your voice lingers in the air.

Yandere neighbour who goes home that night and replays every second of your brief interaction in his mind. Over and over, he clings to your smile, your words, the way you thanked him. He’s sure of it now—you were meant to meet, and he’ll make sure it wasn’t the last time.

But now, the question looms in his mind: how does he ensure you’ll see him again? How does he become a part of your life without coming on too strong? He doesn’t have the answers yet, but one thing is certain—he’ll find a way.

[bleedingreverie]

Yandere Hisoka x reader

Strings of Obsession

The first time Hisoka saw her was during the Hunter Exam, and it was hardly noteworthy. She was just another face in the crowd, a faint pulse of nenless energy, nothing more than a flutter of life in a sea of potential prey. But something about her lingered, faintly catching his attention, like a whisper at the edge of his mind.

It wasn’t her strength; no, she wasn’t particularly powerful then. She wasn’t even all that bold, sticking to the edges of the crowd during the initial phases of the exam. Yet there was something in her eyes—a flicker of determination, a glimmer of resolve that stirred something in him.

He found himself watching her, just out of curiosity at first. She wasn’t loud or attention-seeking, but she moved with a quiet purpose, her glasses sliding down her nose as she adjusted them with a resolute push. The way she studied her opponents, trying to assess their abilities with such earnest intensity, made him chuckle to himself. A fledgling in a den of wolves.

And yet, she survived.

Through each phase of the exam, she scraped by—not with brute strength, but with ingenuity and caution. She wasn’t reckless, and she didn’t provoke fights she couldn’t win. Hisoka found himself wondering how far she would go, how long she could endure in a world that was far crueler than she seemed prepared for.

Then came the first spark.

During one of the later phases, when tensions were high and participants began to turn on one another, she made a move he didn’t expect. A stronger opponent had cornered her, his size and aura dwarfing hers. Hisoka had almost looked away, certain of her inevitable failure.

But then she struck.

Her movements were clumsy, unrefined, but effective. She used the environment to her advantage, tricking her opponent into a vulnerable position before delivering a decisive blow to his pressure points. Hisoka’s eyes gleamed with interest as she stood over her fallen opponent, panting and adjusting her glasses with shaking hands.

“Well, well,” he murmured to himself, licking his lips. “You’ve got some potential after all.”

From that moment, she became more than just another face in the crowd. She became a curiosity, a budding flower in a garden of weeds.

Hisoka didn’t approach her during the exam, though he had plenty of opportunities. He preferred to observe from a distance, letting her grow and struggle on her own. There was no fun in interfering too soon. He wanted to see how far she could go, how much she could improve.

And improve she did.

By the time the final phase rolled around, she had grown sharper, her movements more calculated, her strategy more refined. She still wasn’t a match for the true powerhouses of the exam, but she was no longer a mere fledgling.

When she passed the Hunter Exam, Hisoka felt a flicker of satisfaction.

“You’ve earned my attention,” he said quietly, his smile twisting into something predatory.

Hisoka didn’t actively seek her out after the exam. Not immediately. But fate—or perhaps his own twisted sense of amusement—had a way of bringing them together.

Their next encounter was in Yorknew City. She had taken on a low-level job, clearly still finding her footing as a newly licensed Hunter. Hisoka, as usual, was embroiled in his own games, manipulating the chaos of the auction for his own amusement.

He spotted her in the crowd, her glasses catching the light as she studied a map with furrowed brows. She looked more confident now, her aura slightly more defined, though still far from polished.

“Still growing, little flower,” he murmured, trailing her from a distance.

When she finally noticed his presence, her reaction was delightful. Her body tensed, her eyes narrowing as she turned to face him.

“Hisoka,” she said, her voice steady despite the faint tremor in her aura.

He smiled, tilting his head. “Ah, you remember me. I’m flattered.”

“What do you want?” she asked, her stance defensive.

He chuckled, his fingers toying idly with a playing card. “I’m just passing through. But I must say, you’ve come quite a long way since the Hunter Exam. I’ve been watching.”

Her eyes flickered with unease, and he reveled in it.

Over time, their encounters became more frequent, almost as if he was drawn to her without even meaning to be. He loved the way her reactions evolved—how she grew more composed with each meeting, how her fighting style became sharper, more creative. She still wasn’t on his level, of course, but she was getting there.

And that only made him more fascinated.

He began to linger in her orbit, showing up unexpectedly during her jobs or training sessions. Sometimes he would offer cryptic advice, other times he would simply watch, his golden eyes gleaming with unspoken intent.

“You’re improving,” he said once, after she managed to land a glancing blow during a sparring match. “But you’ll need to be faster if you want to keep up with me.”

She glared at him, adjusting her glasses. “I’m not trying to keep up with you.”

He laughed, the sound low and dangerous. “Oh, but you should be. It would make things so much more exciting.”

As the years went on, Hisoka’s obsession deepened. It wasn’t just her growth that intrigued him anymore—it was her. The way she pushed herself to her limits, the way she refused to back down even when faced with impossible odds. The way she glared at him with fire in her eyes, unyielding despite the fear she couldn’t quite hide.

He began to think of her as his.

Not in the sense of ownership—no, that was far too mundane for Hisoka. She was his game, his fixation, his little flower struggling to bloom in a world of thorns. And he would be the one to see her at her fullest, whether it was in the heat of battle or at the edge of her breaking point.

The idea of her fighting someone else, of her attention being drawn away from him, was… unsettling. He didn’t like it.

Once, he caught wind of her sparring with another Hunter, a young man who seemed far too interested in her for Hisoka’s liking.

He arrived just as the match was ending, clapping slowly as he approached.

“Well done,” he said, his smile razor-sharp. “But I hope you’re not wasting too much energy on… distractions.”

The other Hunter tensed, clearly aware of Hisoka’s reputation, and quickly made his exit.

She glared at him, her aura bristling. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on my favorite little flower,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

“I don’t need your ‘checking,’” she snapped, her hand instinctively adjusting her glasses.

He laughed, the sound echoing in the empty training hall. “Oh, but you do. After all, who else will make sure you reach your full potential?”

Hisoka’s obsession was like a slow-acting poison, creeping through every aspect of his mind. He wanted to see her grow, to watch her struggle and overcome, to be the one who pushed her to her limits.

And when the day finally came that she stood before him as an equal—or as close to one as she could get—he would savor every moment of their inevitable clash.

For now, he would wait.

And watch.

And play.

[bleedingreverie]

Hunter x Hunter Masterlist

Kurapika:

Crimson Chains

Normal vs Yandere

Hisoka:

New toy

Gon:

Normal vs Yandere

Killua:

Normal vs Yandere

Leorio:

Normal vs Yandere

Illumi:

Normal vs Yandere

Menthuthuyoupi:

Normal vs Yandere

[bleedingreverie]

Yandere Kurapika x reader (with glasses)

TW: obsession, bad writing, kinda rushed, stalking, controlling behaviour.

Kurapika had always been methodical in his approach to life. Ever since the massacre of his clan, his every action had been governed by a singular purpose: vengeance. His emotions were always tightly wound, controlled like the links of his Nen chains. That is, until she came into his life.

It wasn’t love at first sight. Kurapika didn’t believe in such things.

The first time he saw her, she was sitting at the far end of a quiet café, her glasses slightly askew as she scrawled furiously in a notebook. She seemed entirely absorbed in her work, her lips pressed into a determined line. He wouldn’t have paid her much attention if not for the occasional frustrated sigh that broke through his thoughts.

Curiosity got the better of him. On his way out, he allowed his gaze to linger, just briefly, on the title of the book she had open: An Analysis of Behavioral Psychology.

Interesting, he thought, before dismissing it entirely.

But fate—or perhaps coincidence—had other plans.

He began to notice her more often. The city was vast, yet their paths seemed to cross with surprising frequency. Once, in the library, where she sat hunched over a stack of books, her finger tracing lines of text as she mumbled to herself. Another time, in the park, where she sat on a bench with her notebook, absentmindedly chewing on the end of her pen as she watched the world around her.

She wasn’t remarkable in the way most people defined it—she was quiet, unassuming. But there was something about her that lingered in his mind longer than it should have.

Their first real conversation happened by accident.

Kurapika had been perusing the psychology section of the library when she appeared beside him, reaching for a book just out of her grasp. Her fingers brushed the spine before it slipped further back on the shelf.

“Let me help you,” he said, retrieving the book with ease.

“Oh, thank you!” she said, smiling up at him. “I thought I was going to have to climb the shelf.”

Her laugh was soft, the kind that didn’t demand attention but lingered nonetheless.

“It’s no trouble,” he replied, handing her the book.

She hesitated, glancing at the title of the book in his own hands. “The Psychology of Trauma Recovery. That’s… heavy reading. Are you studying psychology too?”

“Not formally,” he admitted. “I’m researching certain topics for personal reasons.”

She nodded thoughtfully, her glasses slipping down her nose as she adjusted them. “I’m studying to be a therapist. I guess you could say I have a fascination with how people work.”

Something in her words resonated with him. He wanted to ask her more, but instead, he gave her a polite nod and stepped away.

That should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t.

Over the following months, their interactions became more frequent. Sometimes planned, like when she invited him to join her for coffee after a chance encounter at the library. Other times accidental, like when they bumped into each other at a bookstore or walking down the same street.

Kurapika found himself drawn to her in ways he didn’t entirely understand. She was kind and insightful, with a quiet strength that reminded him of his mother. She had a habit of pushing up her glasses when she was deep in thought, a gesture that made him smile without realizing it.

At first, he convinced himself it was nothing more than friendship.

But then, the small things began to unsettle him.

Once, when walking her home from the library, he noticed how casually she brushed off the fact that she’d left her door unlocked earlier that day.

“You can’t do that,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended.

She blinked at him, surprised. “It’s not a big deal. Nothing happened.”

“It’s reckless,” he insisted, his chest tightening at the thought of someone harming her.

Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t argue. “I’ll be more careful,” she said softly.

He didn’t believe her.

As time went on, Kurapika began to feel the pull of his darker instincts. He noticed things he shouldn’t have: the route she took home, the café she frequented, the way she fiddled with her glasses when she was nervous.

He started walking her home more often, claiming it was on his way, though it rarely was. He sent her messages to check in, framing them as casual inquiries when they were anything but.

His concern for her safety became an ever-present undercurrent in his thoughts. He hated the way she seemed so unaware of the dangers around her. Once, she laughed off a man’s lingering stare at the park, and Kurapika’s fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palms.

“It’s harmless,” she said when he brought it up.

“It’s not harmless,” he replied, his voice low and tense. “You don’t know what people are capable of.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “You really worry about me, don’t you?”

“I do,” he admitted, though the words felt heavier than they should have.

The turning point came one evening when she mentioned an old friend who had recently reached out to her.

“He wants to catch up,” she said, smiling as she adjusted her glasses. “It’s been years since we last talked.”

Something cold settled in Kurapika’s chest. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be? He’s just an old friend.”

“You don’t know his intentions,” Kurapika said, his tone sharper than he intended.

“Kurapika,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “you’re starting to sound paranoid.”

He didn’t respond, but the thought of her meeting another man—a stranger in his eyes—gnawed at him like a sickness.

That night, he stayed awake, his mind racing with scenarios of her being hurt or taken advantage of. His Nen chains coiled tightly around his wrists, a physical manifestation of the control he felt slipping away.

He didn’t stop her from meeting her friend, but he couldn’t resist following her at a distance, ensuring her safety without her knowledge. When he saw her laughing with the man at a café, something inside him twisted painfully.

He told himself it was for her protection, that he only wanted to keep her safe. But deep down, Kurapika knew the truth.

It wasn’t just about her safety.

It was about her belonging to him.

And as his obsession grew, so did the lengths he was willing to go to keep her by his side.

[bleedingreverie]

Yandere boyfriend

TW: stalking, yandere, non-con, creepy yandere, captive reader, isolation.

In the dim recesses of his meticulously arranged lair, the captor examined the latest recordings with a detached satisfaction. His obsession had culminated in the ultimate conquest: you. He had devoted months to surveilling your every move, driven by an insatiable compulsion to unravel the intricacies of your life. From hidden cameras discreetly embedded within your home to clandestine notes documenting your habits, nothing had escaped his meticulous scrutiny. His knowledge of you was unparalleled—he knew not just the mundane details of your daily routine but also the deeper, more personal aspects of your existence.

Yet, the most unsettling aspect of your captivity was not merely his invasive monitoring but the presence of your boyfriend. On the surface, he appeared to be a model of affection and support—your rock amidst the turmoil. He showered you with attention and kindness, a façade so convincing that even your closest friends and family were charmed by his demeanor. His compliments were abundant, his gestures thoughtful, and his voice soothing—a perfect illusion of benevolence.

But beneath this veneer of compassion lurked a darkness that mirrored your captor’s own. The boyfriend's duplicity was a calculated act, a carefully maintained charade that hid a far more sinister reality. Behind closed doors, when he was away from prying eyes, his demeanor shifted dramatically. The façade of warmth and support he projected was a mere mask, concealing his true nature—a blend of manipulation and malevolence that he skillfully kept hidden from everyone, including you.

His machinations were insidious. He employed psychological tactics to manipulate your perceptions and emotions. Subtly, he would undermine your self-esteem, planting seeds of doubt about your worth and your decisions. He would praise you for your achievements with an edge of sarcasm, just enough to erode your confidence without overtly arousing suspicion. His support was often conditional, cloaked in the guise of concern, but his true feelings were revealed through his dismissive comments and passive-aggressive behaviors when he thought you weren't paying attention.

Your captor, having studied every interaction, knew that your boyfriend’s presence was both a shield and a weapon. It allowed him to monitor your life more closely and control you through the manipulation of someone you trusted. The boyfriend’s pretense of normalcy was a crucial part of his control, for he was not merely an observer but an active participant in your psychological subjugation.

In moments of supposed intimacy, your boyfriend would feign concern, offering comfort and solace. Yet, his actions were laced with subtle hints of disdain. He would belittle your fears under the guise of reassurance, turning your vulnerabilities into a means of exerting control. When you sought his support, he would listen with an outwardly sympathetic demeanor, but his true intentions were far more insidious. He was feeding information back to your captor, revealing your insecurities and fears that were then used to tighten the psychological grip around you.

The duplicity extended to his interactions with others. To the outside world, he was the epitome of a devoted partner, a person who seemed genuinely invested in your well-being. His friends and family would speak of him with admiration, praising his apparent kindness and dedication. In reality, he was playing a complex role, manipulating perceptions to maintain the illusion of normalcy while concealing his true nature from everyone—including you.

The captor reveled in the calculated cruelty of the situation. He had orchestrated a scenario where the one person you should have been able to trust most was, in fact, an accomplice in your entrapment. Your boyfriend’s actions were a reflection of the captor’s own twisted desire for control, a manifestation of a broader scheme to dismantle your autonomy and dominate your existence.

As you went about your daily life, you remained unaware of the depth of the betrayal. The apparent love and support from your boyfriend masked a much darker reality. Your captor watched from the shadows, his plans unfolding with a precision that ensured your complete subjugation. He knew that by intertwining his control with your boyfriend’s duplicity, he could maintain an unyielding grip on your life while preserving the façade of normalcy.

In the depths of your isolation, the duplicity of your boyfriend and the relentless surveillance of your captor created a suffocating environment. The psychological manipulation, the constant undermining of your self-worth, and the ever-present sense of surveillance combined to create a nightmare of unparalleled complexity. The captor's ultimate goal was not just to confine you physically but to dominate your very essence, using every tool at his disposal—most insidiously, the one person you believed would be your ally.

The climax of this dark orchestration was yet to come, a convergence of deception and control that would leave you isolated, vulnerable, and entirely under the sway of forces you could neither see nor fully comprehend. The careful, calculated actions of your boyfriend, his false affections and concealed malice, were all part of a larger, more sinister design—a design crafted by a captor who had meticulously planned every aspect of your psychological and emotional subjugation.

Insert:

BHA - Deku, Denki, Kirishima, Hawks, Enji

JJK - Mahito, Nanami, Geto, Goje, Toji

HxH - Uvogin

[bleedingreverie]

TW: yandere, misogyny and much more.

Thinking about a sexist boyfriend…

A boyfriend who radiates confidence and capability, always eager to swoop in and take charge, even if it comes with a hint of smugness. He’s the type to stride into your kitchen with a toolbox in hand, sleeves rolled up, grease smudged on his forearms. With a half-cocked grin, he peers under the sink, fiddling with pipes like it’s second nature. When the water finally flows smoothly again, he stands tall, arms crossed, and throws you a cocky smirk.

“How would you even manage without me?” he teases, his tone dripping with playful condescension.

It’s infuriating and endearing all at once. You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile creeping across your lips. Before you can quip back, his hands—strong, calloused, and impossibly sure—slide around your waist. He lifts you with ease, setting you on the counter like you weigh nothing at all, his grin softening as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Say thank you,” he murmurs against your skin, the command laced with affection.

And you do. Because how could you not? Wrapped in his warmth, with his scent—woodsy and masculine—lingering in the air, the irritation fades, replaced by something softer.

But then there are the other times.

The moments when you’ve handled things yourself—out of necessity, not defiance. Like the day the closet door came off its hinges, and you spent an afternoon reattaching it. He comes home to find the tools sprawled on the floor, the door perfectly aligned.

“You fixed it?” His voice is sharp, disbelief morphing into frustration. “You could’ve hurt yourself. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you just call me?”

You try to explain, but his brow furrows, his jaw tightens, and his scolding continues. He doesn’t yell, not really, but his words carry weight—heavy with the expectation that you’ll defer to him next time.

“It’s not safe,” he insists. “Just leave it to me, okay?”

There’s something infuriating about his protectiveness, about the way he seems to think you’re fragile, incapable. But there’s also an undercurrent of sincerity—an almost childlike need to be the one you turn to, the one you rely on.

And it’s not just about fixing things. He wants to be the one who takes care of you in every way, his old-fashioned sense of romance bleeding into every aspect of your relationship. He insists on picking you up from work, even if it’s out of his way. He surprises you with gifts—a bracelet here, a pair of earrings there—always chosen with a proud, almost possessive glint in his eye.

“You deserve the best,” he says, his voice low and full of conviction. “And that’s me.”

There’s an undeniable charm to his confidence, the way he steps into the role of the provider so effortlessly. But it comes with expectations. He doesn’t say it outright, but it’s clear in the way his hands linger on your hips, in the way his gaze darkens when you’re alone.

All he asks for, as he puts it, is “a little something in return.” A sultry dance after dinner, your body moving just for him. A kiss that deepens into something more, his hands sliding under your shirt as he pulls you close. He’s relentless in his desire, a man who takes what he wants with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

But his plans go beyond the present.

He talks about the future with a certainty that makes your head spin. The apartment you’ll leave behind when he buys a house. The job you’ll quit because “there’s no need for you to work, babe—I’ve got us covered.”

And the family you’ll have.

He says it so casually, like it’s a foregone conclusion. “Once we’ve got a kid, you’ll see. You’ll love being home, taking care of things. It’ll be perfect.”

You try to imagine it, the life he’s laying out for you like a script. It’s idyllic in his mind—his fairy tale. But in yours, it’s murkier, more complicated. Because for all his love and devotion, there’s an undercurrent of control, a subtle expectation that you’ll conform to the role he’s carved out for you.

And as much as you adore him, as much as his kisses set your heart racing, you can’t help but wonder: are you his partner, or his possession?

Insert:

BNHA - Bakugou, Kirishima, Deku, Enji, Mirio, All might.

JJK - Nanami, Geto

AOT - Armin, Zeke.

DS - Tanjiro, Sanemi, Genya.

HXH - Leorio, Gon, Killua, Knuckle.

And anyone else that comes to your mind :)

[bleedingreverie]

100 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!

Thank you so much guys.

[bleedingreverie]

Yanderes who keep you in a daze…

You wouldn’t even know where the door is, let alone how to get there. Every thought feels distant, your limbs too heavy, your mind too clouded. And he loves it that way. You’re soft, pliant, and so adorably helpless. Whatever fight you had in you has melted away, leaving you curled up in his arms, so warm and small against him.

Some yanderes do it for the sheer convenience.

You’re easier to handle like this, reduced to a sweet, giggling thing that clings to him without a care. You’ll whimper a little in protest at first, trying to remember what you were so upset about, but soon enough, you’ll forget. You always do. You’ll sigh softly, resting your head against his chest as he strokes your hair, humming softly like he’s soothing a child.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, his lips brushing your forehead. “So much better now, aren’t you?”

And you are. Or at least, that’s what you think in your hazy state. You even start to lean into his touch, pressing closer as he wraps his arms around you. His hand slides lower, fingers brushing under the hem of your shorts. You don’t stop him. You can’t. All you can do is let out a soft, sleepy sound as his hand moves lower still, his voice in your ear a low murmur of praise.

“You’re perfect like this,” he says, his breath warm against your neck.

Other yanderes enjoy it for entirely different reasons.

He thrives on the sight of you stumbling around, dizzy and disoriented, like a child after spinning too many times in a circle. He watches with an almost gleeful expression as you try to push him away with those weak, clumsy hands of yours. Your attempts to fight back make him laugh—deep, genuine laughter that only makes your cheeks flush.

“What’s that? You’re trying to stop me?” he teases, catching your wrists with ease. “So scary. I’m absolutely terrified.”

He’ll let you go, just to see you try again, toying with you as if it’s a game. You swing at him, but your hits are nothing more than playful taps, and he’s grinning like a wolf, letting you wear yourself out. It never takes long. Soon enough, you’re collapsing against him, breathless and flushed, too exhausted to keep up the charade.

“You’re adorable,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But you know you can’t win, right?”

By then, you’re too tired to care. You whimper softly as he pulls you closer, his hands wandering as he presses kisses to your cheeks and neck. You’ll whine, but you don’t resist—not really. He’s already won, and you both know it.

And then there are the ones who want the best of both worlds.

He keeps you this way because it makes you everything he’s ever wanted—soft, sweet, and utterly dependent on him. But he also loves the control it gives him, the way your struggles turn into nothing more than pitiful little attempts at rebellion. He can have you however he wants, whenever he wants, and all you’ll do is sigh and lean into him, your mind too far gone to do anything else.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Insert:

BNHA - Denki, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso, Natsuo, Amajiki, Deku.

JJK - Sukuna, Mahito, Toji, Geto

HC - kuro, Kenma, Bokuto, Suna, Tendou

BLLK - Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Ego

DS - Zenitsu, Doma

HXH: Gon, Killua, Illumi, Hisoka, Uvogin, Meruem, knuckle.

[bleedingreverie]

Yandere x reader - Escape attempt

TW: yandere, captive reader, dub-con, strength difference.

He loomed over her now, his broad frame casting a shadow that seemed to swallow the room whole. Her breath came in ragged bursts as he pinned her wrists effortlessly, his grip a cruel reminder of the chasm between them—not just in strength but in control. Where her movements were frantic and desperate, his were deliberate, unhurried, like a predator toying with its prey.

“You don’t listen, do you?” he murmured, his voice a dangerous blend of amusement and irritation. His green eyes—usually soft and inviting—were cold now, glittering with a sharp, almost predatory light. “I told you there’s no point in running. But you had to try. You always have to try.”

She turned her head away, refusing to meet his gaze, though her body trembled under the weight of his presence. Her silence didn’t deter him; if anything, it seemed to embolden him.

“You’re quick,” he continued, his tone almost conversational now. “I’ll give you that. Faster than I expected. I saw you darting down the stairs, slipping through the hallways. You even managed to make it past the study before I caught on.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear, and she shivered. “But speed means nothing if you don’t know where you’re going.”

His words hit her like a slap. He was right, and that knowledge made her stomach twist. The mansion was a labyrinth, and he knew every inch of it—every hidden door, every creaking floorboard, every dead end. Her frantic flight had been doomed from the start, a cruel game where he held all the cards.

“And strength?” He let out a low chuckle, his grip on her wrists tightening just enough to make her wince. “You should know by now that you can’t overpower me. Look at you—so delicate, so breakable. I could snap these little bones of yours like twigs if I wanted to.” He punctuated the statement by running a calloused thumb over her wrist, tracing the vein beneath her pale skin. “But I won’t. Because you’re mine. And I take care of what’s mine.”

Her stomach churned at his words, but she bit back the retort that danced on her tongue. Anything she said would only feed his twisted sense of control, his need to dominate her completely.

“You think this is a fight,” he went on, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. “But it’s not. You don’t win fights against someone like me. You survive them. If you’re lucky.”

Her chest heaved as his words sank in, each one a reminder of her helplessness. She hated it—hated the way he could reduce her to nothing with just his presence, his voice. Hated the way her body betrayed her, trembling not just in fear but in something darker, something she refused to acknowledge.

“But I’ll admit,” he said, almost wistfully, “I like this fire in you. It’s why I chose you, after all. So many others would have broken by now, but not you. You still think you can win. Still think you can get away from me.”

He reached out then, brushing a stray strand of hair from her tear-streaked face. The gesture was disturbingly gentle, almost tender, and it made her flinch.

“You’ll learn eventually,” he whispered, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’ll learn that no matter how fast you run, no matter how hard you fight, I’ll always catch you. I’ll always bring you back. And one day, you’ll stop running altogether.”

Her eyes flashed then, a spark of defiance breaking through the haze of fear. He saw it, and his smirk widened.

“Ah, there it is,” he said softly, as if savoring the moment. “That little spark of hope. The belief that you can outsmart me, outlast me.” He leaned in closer, his weight pressing her further into the mattress. “I wonder how long it’ll take before I snuff it out completely.”

————— Insert any character you want ————————

[bleedingreverie]

Yandere x reader

TW: apocalypse, yandere, dub-con, creepy yandere, stalking.

The world had long since turned into ruins, with the dead stumbling through the streets and the living just as lost. You had become a creature of habit, a shadow moving through the remnants of what used to be, careful with each step, always wary of the dangers that lurked. People had become as much of a threat as the zombies. Trust was a rare currency, and you hadn’t used it in a long time.

It started on a supply run, the kind you did often now. The city was empty, save for the quiet groans from the abandoned streets. You’d gone into the store to gather what you could—a few cans, some water—when you felt the unmistakable sensation of being watched. You turned, half-expecting to see a group of looters, but no. There he stood.

At first, you dismissed him. He was just another survivor, someone trying to make it in a world that had no place for humanity. He had dark, disheveled hair and an air about him that didn’t scream “danger,” but there was something unsettling in his stillness. He didn’t move when you looked at him, only stared back, his eyes sharp like a predator assessing its prey.

You grabbed the supplies, moving as quickly as possible, but there he was again. Just standing at the corner of your vision, out of reach but always there. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was following you.

It wasn’t subtle.

At first, you tried to avoid him, taking turns down alleyways and doubling back, but no matter where you went, he appeared. Not in a rush, not in a panic. He moved slowly, almost deliberately, always just within your sight but never close enough to confront. At night, you’d hear the faintest scuffling, a rustle of fabric in the distance. And each time you turned to look, he was there, watching.

The unease gnawed at you. You had a sixth sense for these things, and this—this was wrong.

Then one night, you woke up in the dim light of an abandoned building. The silence was thick, only the distant growl of zombies to break it. You weren’t alone. Not anymore.

He stood in the doorway, silent as ever, the faintest sliver of moonlight outlining his figure.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, his voice calm, too calm. The tone was detached, like he was observing you, cataloging your every movement. It made your skin crawl.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you reached for the knife at your side, not pulling it out, but just enough to show him you were ready.

“I know you’ve noticed,” he continued, taking a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’ve noticed me, haven’t you? Following you.”

You tensed, every muscle locked in place, heart pounding in your chest. You had no idea how long he had been watching you, but the way he spoke as though it were nothing—like it was a fact, an inevitability—made your stomach churn.

“I don’t want any trouble,” you said, your voice low but firm, trying to sound confident, trying to keep him at arm’s length.

“Trouble?” His lips quirked slightly, like he was amused by your attempt at deflection. “You’ve had trouble, haven’t you? You’ve had more than enough. That’s why you’re alone.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. You were alone. Not by choice, but by necessity. Everyone you had once known, everyone you had trusted, had either fallen or disappeared. The world had turned into something twisted, and it had stripped away everything but the drive to survive.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he continued, his voice still that soft, measured tone. “I’m here to protect you. I’m the only one who understands. You’re smarter than the others. Stronger. That’s why you’re still alive. And I’ve been watching, learning. You need someone like me.”

“You’re insane,” you snapped, your grip tightening on the knife.

He smiled at that, an almost imperceptible curve of his lips, but there was no warmth in it, only cold calculation. “No. I’m not insane. I’m just… patient. I know what you need, even if you don’t. You’ve been alone for too long. It’s what you’re used to, but you don’t have to be anymore.”

You stood frozen, caught between the sharp sting of fear and the faintest, sickening curiosity. He was right. You had been alone too long, living on the edge of desperation, refusing to let anyone close. But he wasn’t offering comfort or companionship. He wasn’t offering anything but his presence, and that, in this broken world, felt both like salvation and a curse.

“I can’t trust you,” you said, your voice a little weaker than you’d like.

He didn’t seem to mind. His eyes softened just slightly, but there was still that same unnerving calm. “You will,” he replied, as though it was inevitable. “You’ll come to see that I’m the only one who can truly keep you safe. You don’t have to hide anymore. Not from me. Not from the world.”

“You’re wrong,” you shot back, taking a step back. “I don’t need anyone. Not you. Not anyone.”

He didn’t take a step forward. He didn’t need to. He just stood there, his gaze locking onto yours with that same unsettling certainty, like he could see right through you.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he murmured. “But I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. You could feel his eyes on you even as you turned away, the suffocating sense that he was always there, always just behind you.

He wasn’t wrong about one thing—he wasn’t going anywhere.

And no matter how hard you tried to run, you knew, deep down, that you were already trapped.

Insert:

Bnha: Deku, Shoto, Mirio, fat gum, all might.

Hxh: Illumi, Killua, Gon, Meruem, Hisoka.