i write for random characters/fandoms and celebrities some that are popular and some that don’t get much attention — sometimes old, sometimes small, sometimes just overlooked. a lot of this is self-indulgent, because if i don’t write it, it probably won’t exist ˙◠˙
this blog is basically a collection of:
• x readers & headcanons
• blurbs
• fluff, angst, and soft nsfw themes (not explicit smut)
• whatever i’m hyperfixated on at the moment
there’s no posting schedule. i write when inspiration hits, not when a clock says so.
important:
— minors dni with 18+ posts
— most of my work is dark/slight horror
— i don’t tolerate rude behavior or entitlement
— this is a hobby space first
requests may be open, but they’re never guaranteed. i write what clicks.
also i'm open for any character you think i might know. if i’m unfamiliar with them, i don’t mind doing a bit of research to get a feel for the character before writing — as long as it’s something i can reasonably work with.
if you enjoy niche content and character-focused writing, you’ll probably like it here. if not, that’s okay too.
Ი𐑼 you learn not to ask where he’s been — because whatever he does out there never follows him inside, except for the certainty that it’s why you’re still alive
Ი𐑼 he saves people like it matters — not because it does, but because somewhere out there, you’re still alive, and when he finds you again, he needs you to believe he’s a hero.
Ი𐑼 you almost escape the daycare. almost. he boxes you in with gentle hands and a brighter-than-necessary grin, reminding you that he decides when it’s closed.
Ი𐑼 everyone else is a number, a file, a voice on a tape — but he remembers your name. and that means something. it has to.
Ი𐑼 at first the cameras feel normal — until he starts knowing things you never said out loud, and you realize he’s been watching long enough to memorize you.
miles quaritch ┃ it’s not jealousy — jealousy implies doubt, and quaritch has never once questioned whether you belong beside him.
Quaritch doesn’t flirt.
Miles Quaritch claims.
Slowly. Quietly. In ways subtle enough that people don’t notice until it’s already happening. A hand settling at the back of your neck when he guides you through a crowded room. His body stepping into your space whenever someone stands too close. The way he answers questions directed at you before you get the chance to speak for yourself.
At first, you tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything.
He’s protective with everyone, right?
Except he isn’t.
Not like this.
Not with the way his attention sharpens anytime somebody looks at you for a second too long. Not with the way conversations seem to die the moment he walks up beside you. People start avoiding eye contact after realizing who you spend your time around, and Quaritch notices every single time.
He likes it.
That’s the unsettling part.
You see it in the tiny shift of his expression whenever someone backs off too quickly. The quiet satisfaction in his eyes when people stop touching you, stop lingering near you, stop acting like you belong to yourself instead of beside him.
And he never outright says it.
Never tells you what you are to him.
He just acts like the answer is obvious.
One night, someone from the base gets a little too comfortable. Too friendly. Their hand brushes your arm while they’re talking, smiling at you like Quaritch isn’t standing twenty feet away watching the entire thing unfold.
The conversation doesn’t even finish.
You feel him before you hear him—his presence suddenly behind you, large enough to swallow the space whole.
Then his hand settles against the back of your neck.
Firm.
Possessive.
Not enough to hurt.
Enough to move you.
“C’mon,” he says casually, steering you away without waiting for your response.
The other man laughs nervously. “Relax, Colonel. We were just talking.”
Quaritch stops.
Slowly, he turns his head just enough to look back at him, and the entire atmosphere shifts with it. Not anger. Not shouting.
Something colder.
Certain.
“You got a problem with me?” he asks.
The room goes silent.
Because everybody there understands something you’re only just beginning to realize yourself:
proceed at your own risk, since this post mentions eden's history of harassing people until they deactivate, sending death/rape threats, plagiarism, her history of writing incest, stepcest, rape, etc. do NOT @ or harass anyone who is tagged in this post, do you want to be just as bad as eden's goons? I didn't think so. This blog isn't associated with any blog linked below, I'm only a public writer for the bllk fandom. Not jjk.
Eden, sweethearticism, or satorusstupidgirl, or cherry, whatever you go by now, don't ignore this post as "anon hate" as I just want you to address and clear the room for these accusations. Everyone had room to grow from past mistakes, and that can be YOU TOO! Growing comes with TAKING ACCOUNTABILITY. Some of the things listed below are just speculations, but some things are PROVEN TO BE TRUE.
IF YOU HAVE ANY MORE INFORMATION ON THIS TOPIC, SEND AN ASK OR DM THIS BLOG. YOU WILL NOT BE NAMED IN THE UPDATES.
Her secret "dark" content side blog.
she, along with some of her mutuals like @/satorucest have secret side blogs where they post incest, rape, pedophilia content about the JJK characters. This is ALLEGED so far, as she has not admitted to this blog.
The blog in question is @satorusstupidgirl and was called out first on this post.
which made eden deny the allegations in a now deleted post/comment, as you can only see anons mentioning that she denied it was her from this post. These are allegations and cannot be proven to be fully true, but taking just one look at the Satorustupidgirl (SSG) blog and you can see that it's EXTREMELY similar to the way eden pastes her layouts. See below; 1st pic is old layout, 2nd was recent layout, 3rd is SSG layout.
Layouts alone don't prove anything, so look further into the comments of SSG's pinned post and you find @/torucest. This post isn't made to call out aomi, because torucest is in fact @/satorucest and is proven by their own post here. Satorucest is mutuals with eden and on their side blog, torucest, they mention their mutuals having secret side blogs as well, on this post.
This leads to the bigger theory that eden IS cherry, connecting the dots between their main accounts being friendly AND their secret side blogs. Further proof.
making a dark content side blog isn't what this section is focusing on though, this section is focusing on the fact that eden prides herself on being uncomfortable with incest and proships, but having a secret side blog like this.
Eden posts about her OC Satoshi (not getting into the whole "eden doesn't own the gojo twins because I frankly dgaf, but she does accept compliments about people saying she's the creator and doesn't correct people... ahem. she does give credits when people straight up ask though ig, link) but when she was asked about marking her gojo twins posts with "tw incest," she was incredibly defensive and said it made HER uncomfortable so she wouldn't do that because it's not incest. Seen here.
my own opinion but I don't get how you're uncomfortable with labelling twincest as twincest when you write rape and incest on your other blog Eden... I don't get why she even got so upset, the anons weren't even that rude, she got pissy and started calling them the c-word, you could FEEL her seething from the screen.
Lying about being uncomfortable with taboo topics to gain a large audience, and then having secret blogs like this is harmful. You are deceiving people of who you are Eden. If you wish that people respected your rules, why can you not respect theirs? Speaking form experience, I was once mutuals with eden. I had clearly states that I was uncomfortable with pro shippers and anyone who wrote or liked incest, rape, or taboo fanfiction, and clearly states in my rules for people of that nature to block me and not engage with me. Eden followed me anyways and acted as a sweet friend, deceiving me and many of her other followers.
Anyways, multiple creators have called out the gojo twins having sex at the same time as twincest, such as this creator. Twins getting off to the idea of the other one having sex in any sort of way is inherently incestuous behaviour, not that twins dating the same person is incest.
Her response to mimuju getting an anon ask about eden writing twincest was to say that she was going to blacklist people that thought it was incest. Yes. You read that right. She, someone with other 20k+ followers and a huge influence, was blacklisting smaller writers just for DISAGREEING WITH HER. Seen below.
This section was made to call her out on hypocritical behaviour and how she blacklists people, not to say that she is disgusting solely for writing dark content.
2. Plagiarism
This section is not allegations, as Eden has stolen multiple ideas/fanfictions and when getting called out, has promptly deleted her work with no explanation or simply deletes comments calling her out. An innocent person wouldn't delete a random ramble of a potential fanfic if they knew they hadn't stolen any ideas.
This fic about Gojo's body being taken over by Yuta, and Yuta having intercourse with reader, is stolen from AO3 from this creator. The idea isn't popular and is incredibly different but was written before eden, and yet Eden pops out with a generic smut drabble about Yuta having intercourse with reader that reads like an ai version of CtrlAltDelilah's work.
Despite being someone that often replies to hate anon's and constantly is in drama, she never replied to any of the accusations that she stole this fan fiction. Multiple anons in both the tojioffline accounts have admitted to sending her asks as anon, asking about the stolen fan fictions, but she never replies to them and focuses on her fans.
Another note she copy and pasted was from a gojo x megumi account, where the author themselves called out eden and instead of apologising, she just deleted the post and acted like nothing happened. The post she stole and deleted after @/thedarknesseater-revived called her out, and the original post (tw for gofushi).
Mind you, she never apologised. She just quietly deleted it. That's not okay in any world. This part is important because it's not the fact that she "stole" an idea, as you can't steal fanfic ideas in a literal sense, but that she copied it word for word, no credit, and when called out by the original creator, she didn't apologise or own up to it, she just deleted it like it would go away forever. You may think that she privately apologised but the original poster clearly stated that they called her out and blocked her, only realising she deleted the post a day after when an anon informed them.
This begs the question, how many past times has this happened and went unnoticed? How many times has eden stolen from smaller blogs and either gotten away with it, or been called out and just quietly deleted it?
@sweethearticism is stealing fic ideas very pro intellectual?
in regards to her deleting anon asks, take it from the owner of this blog, I sent multiple kindly worded asks, just asking her if she truly stole those fanfic ideas. She never answered those asks, despite her claims of never ignoring asks. link
The thing is, she literally responds to hate asks as well. She screenshots them and calls them out on her blogs for being false or being rude. So... why did she ignore the plagiarism accusations? Is it because they were true?
This stuff is even more annoying because she feels protective over ideas that aren't even hers to begin with. The portal pussy concept she got upset about? It's been done and written a million times before, yet she acts as if she's gonna be the first writer to do it and that other writers shouldn't write a portal pussy concept before her. LINK & LINK
This section has extreme importance because it is her blatantly stealing ideas, not just petty drama that you can excuse. You can be proship and STILL acknowledge that stealing fan fictions is WRONG. Not even Saetoru did this shit, saetoru could actually WRITE.
3. Sending hate as anon
This section is alleged. Nothing in this section has been proven factual, but multiple people have come forward that eden has either sent hate, or has encouraged/done nothing to stop it.
This section is a collection of allegations from different anons, don't take everything as factual evidence, only look at the sheer amount of different alleged experiences.
anon 1
anon 2 (has pictures and evidence)
anon 3 (has pictures)
anon 4 (to be provided, as it's currently in my inbox as an ask).
4. THE BLUUKIVE INCIDENT
I've made sure to put this incident second to last, and I will not be summarising or explaining anything as the people involved did not want to be tagged or harassed. Though, I am mentioning it because it IS important to discuss in regards to Eden's problematic actions.
PLEASE DO NOT TAG OR MENTION BLUUKIVE. DO NOT SEND HATE OR EVEN BRING THIS UP TO THEM, AS PER THEIR REQUEST.
the fall out
what happened (seen in picture below)
anon 1. anon 2.
4. MONETISING FANFICTION
btw monetising fan fiction is literally illegal, so much for the intellectualism that eden prides herself on.
taken from reddit -
"Writing as a hobby for fun and to share my ideas with other people is completely different from writing for a job for profit. I'd never paywall my stuff, even if I could, because it defeats the entire point for me. I'm having fun! I'm sharing! Putting a paywall reduces the ability to share!
Also it just feels icky and arrogant. "Only those willing to give me money are worthy of reading MY writing."
Now, do I think it would be nice if fanfic writers were allowed to have the equivalent of a tip jar? Sure. But paywalling specifically just feels wrong to me.
That said, I personally never subscribe to a Patreon unless I specifically want to support that creator, regardless of what 'bonus incentives' they might offer. I could get exactly zero personal benefits as a subscriber, and would still be subscribed to all of the Patreons I already support. So I know that's a personal thing, not a common one." - LadySandry88.
"Fanfiction is a thing. Fans so love a story that they just can’t get enough of it, so they create their own storyline from it. Honestly, it’s good writing practice! But it isn't original work, it is derivative work. It can’t be legally sold because derivative work without proper licensing is a copyright violation." - William D. Richards.
All this information and how monetising fan fiction WILL bring the death to fan fiction culture (AO3 getting paywalled, ads, having to pay for EVERYTHING nowadays) and yet eden doesn't address this and sell pattern exclusive fan fictions.
What does Eden's pattern provide? Fanfictions that we don't know if they were stolen or not, and access to a discord server with her if you pay 10 dollars a month. I wouldn't even be hating on the discord server thing as much if it wasn't for multiple people coming forward that eden DOESNT TALK IN HER OWN SERVER. Her mutuals check in on people, and Eden herself is barely active, despite being on Tumblr 24/7. This is literally just scamming your fans for a below average experience. anon saying she's not active 1, Anon calling eden out on not being active in the discord 2, anon calling her out 3
6. ETC (COLLECTION OF ACCUSATIONS/CRITIQUES)
Sweethearticism is mutuals with a raging pro shipper, and someone who constantly reuploads art without the original artists permission (like a content farm) link
She reblog things like this but never addresses any of the valid accusations against her. She also states that she doesn't interact with fandom drama in her rules but I think we all know that's a blatant lie.
borderline pedophilic fanfics that have no warnings given despite bordering on the line between grooming and abuse. (callout because there's NO warnings) link
she was ran out of the diabolik loves fandom because of drama (guessing she stole a fic or acted entitled again.. smh) link
somehow blames the rising drama from people being neurotypical? As if there wasn't drama before with saetoru, before she was even a blog. link
her trying to make many many mutuals because she had a falling out with another creator. link
she's fake & supports small blogs so that they're dedicated to her. link
generalised post explaining what she's done link
If you have read this and want this information to be more publicly know, please reblog this post and tag your mutuals NOT random big writers.
7. UPDATES
UPDATE 1: She blocked me in a record breaking 55 minutes of this post being up.
UPDATE 2: Thank you for the kind asks about this post, we will not be answering any asks publicly as to not put a huge target on your back. Both the tojioffline's saw this post and I've gotten some asks to reword my plagiarism section due to one of the authors being uncomfortable with it. Please do not harass anyone mentioned in that section especially.
UPDATE 3: My inbox has been spammed by multiple people thanking me, and because of the support, I've decided to let the comments be open. To answer some asks, she has not blocked this blog on all her blogs, but I fear that if I leave any asks on her other blogs, she'll just block me there too without taking any accountability. There has been rumours that eden is also aomi/satorucest, but these allegations are baseless because why would eden even make 2 different dark blogs if SSG was already a secret? ALSO: PLEASE DO NOT HARASS @/SATORUCEST, harassing people like this reflects badly on this post and @/tojioffline2, as it makes blogs like these that are meant to call out writers be associated with hate trains. DO NOT HARASS ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS POST, either block and tell your mutuals to block, or follow them if you want to support them (like the authors that were harassed by eden).
harley sawyer ┃ at first the cameras feel normal — until he starts knowing things you never said out loud, and you realize he’s been watching long enough to memorize you.
thinking about Harley Sawyer keeping recordings of you long before you realize he’s doing it.
at first the cameras don’t bother you. it’s Playtime Co. — of course there are cameras. security in the halls, outside the labs, tucked into corners high enough that eventually your eyes stop noticing them. everyone works under them. everyone gets watched.
normal. expected.
until dr. sawyer starts mentioning things he shouldn’t know.
small things at first. harmless enough that you almost convince yourself you imagined it.
“rough morning?” he asks one afternoon without looking up from his paperwork, voice absentminded, casual. “you seemed upset earlier.”
you don’t remember telling him that.
another day he hums something under his breath as you pass his office and your stomach drops because it’s the exact tune you were humming alone in the east hallway an hour ago.
not a popular song.
not loud enough for anyone to hear.
just a nervous little habit you didn’t even realize you had until he repeats it back to you perfectly.
thinking about how it gets worse after that.
he references conversations nobody else was around for. finishes half-spoken sentences you muttered to yourself under your breath. asks if you’re feeling better after you locked yourself in a bathroom stall during a bad shift and cried quietly enough that no one should’ve known.
every time, he says it gently.
never accusing.
never direct.
just enough to make your skin crawl.
and the worst part is the way he watches you afterward.
waiting.
like he’s studying the exact moment discomfort starts turning into fear.
you start noticing cameras everywhere after that. not just in the obvious places. hidden behind vents. tucked into dark corners. tiny red lights buried in places nobody would bother looking unless they already knew.
unless they were searching.
thinking about how you start changing your behavior without meaning to. you stop talking to yourself. stop lingering in empty hallways. stop crying at work because the idea of him watching it happen makes something sick twist in your stomach.
and somehow—
that only seems to make him more interested.
he starts appearing more often. silently. suddenly. standing just close enough to make you aware of him before he says anything at all.
“you’ve been quieter lately,” he notes one evening, smiling faintly over the rim of his coffee cup.
you don’t answer.
because suddenly you’re thinking about every moment you spent alone in this building and realizing you probably weren’t alone at all.
thinking about the exact moment it fully clicks for you.
you’re in one of the older wings, nearly empty this late at night, when you notice the camera above the door turning.
not scanning.
following.
following you.
your blood goes cold so fast it almost hurts.
and before you can even process it—
before you can even decide whether to run—
you hear his voice behind you.
soft.
pleased.
“there you are.”
you turn too fast. he’s standing at the end of the hallway, hands folded neatly behind his back, expression calm in a way that makes everything feel worse.
not surprised.
not ashamed.
relieved.
like he’s been waiting for this.
waiting for you to finally understand.
his eyes flick briefly toward the camera above you before settling back on your face. and when he smiles, it’s small. almost gentle.
“you figured it out,” he murmurs.
not defensive.
not apologetic.
fond.
like this is a milestone the two of you reached together.
you take a step back automatically and something in his expression sharpens immediately—not anger, not yet, but attention. complete attention. like every tiny reaction you have matters more than anything else in the world.
“don’t look so frightened,” he says quietly. “if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have spent so long watching.”
the words settle heavy in the air.
because he says them like reassurance.
because somewhere deep down, you realize he genuinely thinks they are.
and when your eyes flick desperately toward the nearest exit, his smile widens just slightly.
frank castle ┃ you learn not to ask where he’s been — because whatever he does out there never follows him inside, except for the certainty that it’s why you’re still alive.
You learn quickly not to ask where he’s been, or what he’s done. At first it feels wrong not to. It feels like something you should say, something normal people say to each other when they come back late, when their knuckles are bruised and their shirt carries a smell you can’t quite place. So you try, once—soft, careful, like that’ll make it easier to answer.
Frank Castle doesn’t respond right away. He just looks at you, and something in his expression shifts in a way that makes your chest tighten. It’s not anger, and it’s not guilt. It’s distance. Like he’s already somewhere else, somewhere you weren’t meant to follow, and asking only made that clearer. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and steady, like the answer was decided long before you asked. “I handle things.”
That’s all you get. Not an explanation—just a line drawn clean between you and whatever exists on the other side of him. You don’t ask again after that.
Instead, you start noticing things. The way his hands are never fully healed, always carrying fresh marks layered over older ones. The way he washes them longer than necessary, staring at nothing while the water runs, like he’s waiting for something invisible to come off. He never talks about it, never brings it into the room with you, but it lingers anyway—in the quiet, in the space he leaves behind when he steps away, in the way he avoids your eyes for just a second too long.
Whatever he does, he keeps it separate. That part is intentional. Controlled. And somehow that makes it worse, because it means he chooses exactly how much you’re allowed to see.
Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night without knowing why, only to realize it isn’t a sound that stirred you, but the absence of one. The air feels different, heavier, and when you look toward the doorway, he’s there. Still. Silent. Watching.
You don’t speak. You don’t move. You already know it’s him.
Frank stands there like something carved out of the dark, his gaze moving across the room with quiet precision, checking every corner, every shadow, every small detail that proves nothing has changed while he was gone. You’ve caught his reflection once or twice in the glass—just enough to see that he isn’t looking at you with relief, or softness, or anything that might make this easier to understand.
He’s confirming something.
That you’re here. That you’re breathing. That nothing got to you while he was away.
And once he’s sure, he leaves just as quietly as he came, like the moment never happened.
You lie there afterward, staring at the empty doorway, thinking about the things you don’t ask and the answers you’ll never get. It’s not that you don’t understand, not really. It’s that you understand just enough to know there are parts of him that don’t come back clean, parts he keeps locked away so thoroughly that even you don’t exist there.
And maybe that’s the point.
Because whatever he does out there, whatever he becomes when he’s gone, it stays outside that door.
And the only piece of it that ever crosses the line—
is the certainty that it’s the reason you’re still alive.
