Idol.

Idol.

Yan Mahito x F Reader.

Synopsis: Mahito is a big fan of yours. Too bad you can’t see him yet.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, some not SFW implications, Mahito as his own warning, and implied future kidnapping.

Word Count: 400.

*~*~*~*

Mahito skillfully maneuvered his way amidst the bustling masses, navigating through the throngs of individuals, past the vigilant guards stationed outside your dressing room, until he was standing right before you. This task proved effortless for him, considering that the majority of people are unable to perceive his presence, including yourself, much to his dismay.

If you had, he would have relished envisioning the expression on your face–wide doe eyes, a startled cry, tears streaming... The potential outcomes are boundless within the realms of his imagination, contemplating what could have transpired... or perhaps what lies ahead, in due time.

Mahito has never been the best when it comes to patience, but he will try for you. Only for you. He just has to wait until your national tour ends. If he remembers correctly, your last stop should be in Kyoto. When your performance is over, he will be able to snatch you up with ease. He thinks, no, knows it will be a breeze.

“I’m your biggest fan.” He murmurs, looking over to your messy vanity. “Tsk, you really should not be rushing like this.”

You can’t see him, as usual. He recognizes your inability to do so, as you continue to gracefully apply mascara to your stunning eyelashes, completely unconcerned.

His smile would be a horrifying sight to you, reflexed in the mirror, and would certainly make you scream like blondes from B-listed horror movies he steals sometimes. “I wonder… How many autographs do I have to steal this time? Certainly a lot, right?”

However, his smirk leaves his face when he sees all of the gifts in the corner on the table in the back corner of the room. Teddy bears, flowers, cards, certainly everything he could get you, even better ones if you ever asked him to do so!

But that’s for later. Because while Mahito has never been the best with patience, he will do anything for you. Even if that means waiting a few more weeks. It is only a matter of time; he tells himself every hour or so. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll snatch you up and take such good care of you with a pretty collar on your neck and a chain and his hand pressing the top of your head until you are on your knees and-

…Once more, he must remind himself to exercise patience. There will be ample opportunity to bring his fantasies to life at a later time. Because slow and steady wins the race, right?

Never Let Me Down Again.

Yan Nanami x GN Reader.

Synopsis: You have been acting well, and therefore are now treated well. Kento was proud, then, before he found something under the bed that shattered everything he thought of you, everything he thought of the progress you two were making.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, some infantilization, and implied violence.

Word Count: 600.

*~*~*~*

Kento finally found out where his old satchel went, after hours of looking for it.

It was under the bed frame, behind hastily and messily put shoes, your shoes to be precise. You rarely use them because Kento never takes you outside, even though he promises he will, those vows always break. Just like how his satchel was never worn, which was cheap and only meant to serve as a bag if there was an emergency where he only could pack a few essentials before running off from danger. He often tells both himself and you that it is too dangerous, with curses around every corner whose population seems to be growing more and more each coming day. 

You’re asleep now, just above the crime that you committed. If Kento was not able to hold his anger, his sorrow at this betrayal, he would have shaken you awake already, screamed at you, because he knows that whatever could possibly be the contents of the near-forgotten pouch is not good, especially for the progress Kento thought you two were making.

Like Pandora and the Pithos Zeus had given her, he could not resist the temptation to see what was within.

What came first was packs of dried fruit and nuts. The small ones that Kento gave you for snacking, when dinner time or lunchtime was not too far away, by an hour or so. There seemed to be at least ten, so at the very least there were ten days you pretended to be hungry so you could put them in the satchel when Kento was not looking. After all, you were not allowed to go into the pantry by yourself, Kento always said that he did not want you to mess up the little organized society he made up of cans and other nonperishable foods. What came next was some cartons of sugar-free fruit juice, which made sense as Kento never has plastic disposable water bottles, preferring to use a water purifier that he keeps near the sink for both him and you to use. Both the food and the drinks you kept in hiding when Kento gave them to you as either a treat for a good job with whatever chores he gave you to do or as a snack when you got hungry when Kento was starting to make dinner or lunch or whatever other meal you two ate together. Despite thinking that you two were making progress, Kento now sees that you have lied to him, and that hurts more than the insults that you hurled his way along with the biting and scratches you gave him when he first stole you away.

Kento has always said how he despises liars, and such values are still held up tightly even when it comes down to you and the rotten words that came out of your mouth. He should wash them out with soap, until you are crying and have the urge to vomit, maybe even use the other tools at his disposal to prove that he is not just brains, but brawn too. Due to your actions, the bond between you and Kento has regressed to its initial stage. It is solely your responsibility for this setback, isn't it?

Upon discovering the concealed knife in the bag amidst everything else, Kento resolves to act according to his fury and animosity, aiming to make you regret every transgression and even regret the very day you were born.

Just read that pretending to be dead post and u know suddenly I'm thinking about phantom troupe's reaction to a very dorky crackhead darling 🤣. Like that'd be very funny . Specially if the darling is a hxh fan who got Isekai'd.

HUH…… never thought of that! i feel like a sort of cringefail darling WOULD be a very fun concept. takes a little bit of the ickiness of the whole situation, you know? since they also know how the yorknew arc ends, if they accidentally tell a troupe member they would very well change the fate of everything. for example, darling would accidentally reveal to chrollo/nobunaga how to manipulate gon and killua into joining the troupe. i would feel like that would be a really cool concept but… kurapika is gonna beat everyone’s ass like a pissed parent.

deadass like 🔴👄🔴 🔪

but i feel like this would kinda get in the way of kurapika’s character development and set him on a darker path where the only thing he wants is revenge. even leorio may not be able to get him out of it if that happens.

even though, let’s be real, feitan and killua fighting together would go so hard. uvogin and gon fighting together too.

Demon Fire.

Yan Kafka x F Reader x Yan Blade.

Synopsis: Where is this train going?

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, and manipulation.

Word Count: 1k.

*~*~*~*

“Which seat do you want, darling?” Kafka asks, her thumb still making circles over your own.

Her hair is half put up in a ponytail as usual, the rest flowing down the sides of her face. She only held her purse, which held only her wallet, her phone, snacks, water, and pictures of you with her and Blade. Blade pulls her suitcase, as well as yours and his, through the narrow gap between the seat rows, with his bag noticeably smaller compared to Kafka's and yours.

You point to the one closest to the window, and Kafka smiles. “That one.”

She nods, and Blade begins to put the luggage in the cabinet above, being silent all the while you and Kafka sit down.

“Neither of you have told me where we are going.” You say as Kafka puts her head on your shoulder.

“Be patient, my dear girl. You will find out soon. You’ll love it, I promise. Bladie and I spent a lot of time searching for a place to celebrate.”

You ask what you are all celebrating, and she continues.

“Do not fret, it will only be a few hours before we reach our destination. We’ll just cuddle for now, and chat. There are also movies to watch and sights to see out the window. Both the ride there and where we are going is going to be so relaxing for all of us. You have my word. Or my honor. Whichever you prefer, dear.” You stop paying attention to her words halfway through, and when she realizes this she pecks your cheek. “Though I suspect you think that neither of them exist.”

“Maybe.” As the train begins its journey, you gaze out the window, murmuring to yourself. Like a well-rehearsed performance or clockwork, an array of colorful flowers and plants glide past, each one swiftly replaced by another. Before you know it, the vibrant beauty of spring and the whispers of Kafka lull you to sleep.

…

The landscape was a surprise, yet not entirely, as it lay in a remote location devoid of human presence except for the occupants of the cabin nestled at the foot of the verdant hill. The vast expanse was a haven of blossoms, grass, and foliage, enough to supply a lifetime's worth of adornments for a spring festival. Every imaginable flower and plant seemed to find a home here. In the nearby lake, crystal clear waters mirrored the mountain's grandeur, while tranquil sea bass and carp glided serenely beneath the surface.

Nestled beside the solitary cottage stood a windmill, its weathered blades casting a gentle shadow. Atop the one aimed towards the heavens, doves perched, unharmed, indicating the absence of predator birds in this vicinity. The setting appeared idyllic, yet a lingering unease persisted within. Despite the hours that have passed, questions lingered in your mind; what is the purpose behind Blade and Kafka bringing you to this place, and what are they commemorating?

Kafka is the one who guides you, as always, holding your hand gently and pulling you along as she chatters away. Blade, as always, simply watches from behind you two like a shadow.

…

It is Blade that opens the door to the cottage, his face still stoic, as Kafka wraps one of her arms around your waist. You have adorned yourself in the attire she adores, a lacy, ebony dress accompanied by sheer black stockings and elegant flats. Much to your misfortune, according to her, Blade doesn’t hate this outfit either.

Even though Blade was the one to open the door, it is you who is forced to step in first, and it is you who is forced to sit down first at the little wooden circular table surrounded by three chairs.

“You still haven’t told me what this is about, Kafka.” Despite your curiosity, you don’t dare to raise one of your eyebrows.

“Yes, yes. Let us just rest for a moment. I’m tired.”

“...Okay. It’s just… you’ve kept me in the dark for the past few days about this trip, so…”

Kafka lets out an exaggerated sigh before sitting down as well with a thump, pressing her thumb and forefinger against her temple, gently massaging in circular motions. She is acting like she was the one who carried all of the luggage, and not Blade, who is still putting your suitcases down in the corner. “Come on, love… I’m tired, take pity on poor little old me.”

“...”

Finally, Blade sits down in the last chair. You’re not surprised by his silence anymore.

“...” In his customary manner, he rests his hands on his lap, maintaining a polite sitting posture. Unchanging, his countenance remains impassive; it is difficult to recall a single instance where a smile has graced his face, except for those dreadful moments when he is mara-struck.

“Sigh. Bladie, which suitcase did you put the peaches in? Was it [First]’s? I’m craving one.” If you were Blade, you would have rolled your eyes. “Really badly. Almost as much as I crave our dearest. I’ll get it myself.”

“...[First]’s.”

In a split second, Kafka's wearied expression transforms into a radiant grin as she stands up and walks toward your suitcase leaning against the wall.

Kafka's gaze freezes time as he rummages through your luggage, searching for the bag of peaches. As Blade utters his words, his voice retains its roughness, yet it carries a touch of tenderness.

“...Do you like this place, [First]?” He asks, looking at you. You think he is trying to put on a small smile, from the way his lips are slightly curved upward, but it does not comfort you as intended. “We picked this place for you.”

“But why?”

As ironic as it may seem, it is always Blade you ask questions to because at least he gives straightforward answers.

“Didn’t Kafka tell you?” For once, Blade seems confused. Was he not paying attention every time you asked? “It’s your birthday, isn’t it? ...Did you not know that?”

“...Well, I’m not exactly always given access to calendars…”

“...Fair.”

You hear Kafka's mischievous laughter from the corner.

“...But happy birthday regardless, [First].”

Once more, his smile achieves the opposite of its intended effect.

Do you have any request rules

yes actually! you can find them here! i’m sorry it’s kinda late 😭

wait....... hold on one damn minute.

200 followers??? huh????? HUH??????? what........

thank you so much everyone!!!! literally this community has doubled in size, and it hasn't even been a month... but sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all for the support! 🫶🏼

writing fanfics was honestly much more fun than i thought it would be if i am being honest, but that's mainly because i can be a perfectionist at times. but as soon as i let that go, everything bad went out the door with it! so, to any of you who want to post whatever passion you have on here but are afraid, please know that it's not as bad as you think, all you need is to have a bit of confidence in yourself! you got this, i promise! your work is probably amazing, even if you don't think so yourself! <3333333

so, because of this milestone, requests are now open! i'll gather requests until febuary 2nd! just please make sure that the requests fall in line with my rules and the fandoms for this blog. i'll begin to work on them as soon as i finish mr. chrollo the creepy greasehead's yandere analysis (it's at 10k rn..... and it's not done yet...... crying fr.....) but hopefully it will be posted by either today or tomorrow! 😭

here's a little bit of the intro for y'all as proof:

The very definition of an empty shell, Chrollo has had his humanity stripped of him from a very young age. The only people who have ever made him feel something are all members of the Troupe or are buried underground, burning in hell or soaring above the clouds as angels, either one a much better existence than the life they all spent in Meteor City. So, when he sees you, someone who has been able to make him feel something without interacting with him at all, without the use of Nen, without even brushing your shoulder against him while running to your train in a hurry, he does not know what to do.

again, thank you so much to everyone that likes my work! sending virtual hugs and cookies. i may get back into art again and post it on here too, whether they are related to fics or not! if i ever do, please consider liking it. :3

you can also do the flower ask game if any of you are interested! talking...... one of my favorite things to do. i just love socializing in general, even if it is not related to a request or the ask game! if you just want to talk, just ask in my inbox!

i hope everyone here has a good day, and thanks for reading this!

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡