Yandere Ghost!Michael Headcanons

Nice! Could I please requests yandere headcanons of ghost Michael falling for female y/n? I imagine that since Mike dedicated a lot of his life trying to undo his father’s legacy he didn’t really fall in love with anyone before. Thank you in advance for writing!

note: I AM SO SORRY these took so long to do. i would use school as an excuse but no im just so slow at writing lmfao...hope the wait was worth it :,) i really like the idea of ghost yanderes this was very fun to write

warnings: yandere (but like. soft yandere. sort of) also angst. hella angst.

Yandere Ghost!Michael Headcanons

Nice! Could I Please Requests Yandere Headcanons Of Ghost Michael Falling For Female Y/n? I Imagine That

💜 - I think that, as a ghost, Michael would reside in his old home where he grew up. Visions of him and his little siblings playing together, smiling, laughing, playing before his eyes. Places where they hid from their father when he was mad at them, and where they would all sit and watch tv together, in a rare moment that everybody was in a good mood. But nearly every room was empty now, save for a few pieces of furniture, and even those had been replaced. Walls that were once chipped and cracking were replaced with new fresh coats of paint, any sign that anybody lived there before was gone.

💜 - A short while after that, you end up moving in. Michael finds it odd that you moved into such a big place, one surely meant to house a family, not just one person and her pet. He can't help the twinge of anger that festers inside of him when you start to move old furniture around, or certain rooms of the house go neglected when they need to be cleaned. He knows this anger is unreasonable, and that it isn't your fault, but watching his old home change, new memories being made inside of it, pains him.

💜 - As the weeks fade into months, Michael finds himself getting more and more attached to you. His eyes follow your every move, gaze lingering on your soft skin, your hair, your eyes. He's tried getting your attention before, by trying to possess certain objects or write on an open notepad, but nothing he did seemed to work. Although you might hear rumors from others, of the tragic deaths of Michael Afton and Henry Emily, his presence would forever remain unknown to you. The most you'll ever feel is a little chill crawl up your spine as his spirit passes right through you, arms held out to wrap you in an icy embrace.

💜 - Quickly starts to pick up on your little mannerisms. Tiny, insignificant things like the way you hold your pencil, little inflections in your voice when you pronounce certain words, hell, he's even memorized the tune of some songs that you hum to yourself. And could you blame him? All there is for him to do is watch you (not that he's complaining), admiring you as distant or as up close as he wants, a silvery, wispy hand enclosed over yours.

💜 - He soon begins to regret his reluctance to find a partner while he was alive. His mind had been too preoccupied to process the crushing loneliness, the empty hole in his heart only growing more and more as the years carried on until he finally had time to process these emotions when it was too late.

💜 - Sometimes you swear you can see a shadowy figure out of the corner of your eye. When you're walking down the halls late at night, you'll feel the rush of cool wind whisk by, or a blurry figure will appear at the end of the hall for a fraction of a second.

💜 - If you ever brought a partner to your home, Michael would be despondent, his brain wracked with rage, despair, and regret. He knew that you would inevitably find a lover. He is unable to do anything as he watches the two of you hold each other, whisper sweet nothings into the other's ears, and do all sorts of activities together. He wishes he'd found you sooner, and taken you away forever, kept all to himself to hold and love unconditionally. But that chance had slipped past his fingers, and now he could do nothing but watch, lament, and regret.

I always see the dog choking info on here, so here’s what to do if a kitty is choking

Save your kitties, we all know they eat everything anyway.

http://www.wikihow.com/Save-a-Choking-Cat

http://www.wikihow.com/Perform-CPR-on-a-Cat

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idontneedsleep671

3 years ago

Into The Fog Pt.2 (Frank Morrison x Reader)

He waited for this moment for so long. He would finally be able to hold you against him, knowing you were okay. That you would cry, (he kept telling himself that he wouldn’t.) and tell him how scared you were. Promises being spoken that he would never let you be in danger again. He would chase away any danger that tried to take you away from him again.

He never predicted that instead you would look at him as though he was the danger.

Part 1.

warnings: Frank being an edgelord. Mentions of blood, stabbing.

Keep reading

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idontneedsleep671

3 years ago

I've been feeling down lately and all I've been thinking about is getting a comforting hug from either of my husbands 🥺, sooooo I drew some slashers based on this meme 👀👀❤️

Michael is TRYING to not crush your head 🥰

you are playing with fire y/n 👀

Thomas gets all flustered when you hug him, he doesn't know what to do 💕💕 and he doesn't want to hurt you 🥺❤️

Bubba gets all excited when you hug him, he can't say no to a bear hug!! 🐻❤️

Jason doesn't understand what are you doing with your hands, but he's happy If you are happy 🥰🥰

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idontneedsleep671

3 years ago

A Gift Worth Keeping

This is the second part of my “when he knew he loved you” series.

Warnings: Cursing

Pairing: Mammon x GN!MC

Words: 983

Sept. 10th 5PM

It’s been almost a month since you arrived. A month of babysitting a human, Mammon rolls his eyes. If only he could find the human. Usually you follow him around, clinging to his side. Well, in reality, he follows you around, but today he lost track of you after RAD.

He’s actually not sure what Lucifer would do to him if he let you get hurt. He doesn’t want to know.

He’s been looking for you for ten minutes. So far he’s checked your room, the kitchen, dining room, and living room. And you’re nowhere to be found. He’s starting to worry. (About Lucifer, not your well-being.)

Finally, as he approaches the library, he hears your voice.

“So… do you think he’ll like it?” you ask, showing off something to his brothers.

“Pfft, MC, he won’t even look at it before trying to sell it,” says Levi, not bothering to look up from his game.

“What?” Mammon’s heart clenches at the hurt in your voice.

“Yeah, if he can squeeze a Grimm out of it, he will. I mean, the thought is nice, but…”

“But I made it myself,” you start.

“Oh, even better. ‘Handmade by a human!’ It’s doubled in price now,” Satan laughs, looking up from his book. Mammon’s face drops.

“Really?” you ask, enthusiasm gone.

“MC, darling, you put a lot of time into it. Do you really want to give it to someone who won’t appreciate it?” Asmo asks. With that, Mammon huffs.

“He… he’ll appreciate it!” you say, holding whatever it is close to your chest.

“Look… to tell the truth, he’d probably try to sell you if Lucifer wouldn’t kill him. He’ll flip that faster than Beel eats a cheeseburger.” Satan turns the page.

“He’s a scumbag,” says Levi, “he takes my things all the time to make an easy buck. And he’s my brother. Why do you think he’d appreciate something from you, a human he barely knows?”

“No, he’s not. He’s a good person,” you say, anger dripping from your tongue. Mammon’s eyes widen. “And he’s my friend! You guys are wrong.”

“Sweetie…” Asmo begins.

“I mean, yeah, he likes money. But that’s his… thing. You know, I wouldn’t expect Beel to stop eating. Or… Asmo to stop staring into that mirror,” you say.

The fifth-born looks away from the mirror for a moment, “I’m fixing my makeup.”

You ignore him. “None of you can help your sin. Why are you guys always being mean to Mammon for his? It’s not fair. Fuck, now I sound like Mr. Envy,” you chuckle and Satan smirks behind his book. “Anyway, I’m gonna go give this to him now. But, you guys really suck a lot, you know?”

“Let us know how much he gets for it,” says Mr. Envy himself as you stand. You stick your tongue out at him, which Asmo laughs at.

Mammon’s heart races and he turns to quickly climb the stairs, two at a time, to his room, where you’re headed, with a gift, that you apparently handmade, for him. He shuts the door behind him and leans against it.

They think I’m good. He smiles softly to himself, then it drops when he realizes you just stood up to his brothers, who could’ve actually killed you.

He’s got to have a talk with you about that.

A knock at his door startles him. “Uh… Mammon, are you in there?”

He blinks and wipes his hand through his hair, waiting a second before he opens the door.

“Hey human,” he says, nonchalantly. As if he hadn’t been looking for you and he’d heard none of your conversation and wasn’t internally combusting from your words.

“Can I come in?” you ask. He can tell you’re hiding something behind your back.

“Yeah, I guess.” He steps back from the door to let you inside, then closes it behind you, and takes a seat on his couch. You follow him over and stand in front of him.

“So… I kind of made you something.”

“Oh?” Really? He had no idea. Not at all.

“Yeah. So… here,” you say, thrusting a large gift bag into his lap. He raises a brow.

“Open it.”

He smiles and reaches into the bag to pull out a round yellow cushion. “Hey, this looks like Grimm!” he points out when he sees the skull on the front.

He notices how your eyes light up. “Yeah! Yes! I tried. I’ve not really been crocheting long, so it’s not perfect-”

“Yeah it is.” He turns the pillow in his hands. On the back is a small tag which reads ‘MADE WITH LOVE, BY MC.’

“It’s really good,” he says, eyes wet. He refuses to cry in front of a human, no matter how nice they are to him.

“You like it?” you ask.

“Yeah, ‘course I do. It’s money,” he grins and puts the pillow under his head, leaning back on it with a sigh. “It’s great, MC, thanks.”

You drop onto the couch beside him, before throwing your arms around his shoulders, “happy birthday Mammon! I’m so glad you like it.”

He freezes, breath caught in his throat, then puts one hand on your back. “Uh, yeah.”

You pull away, and pretend not to notice the blush blooming on his cheeks. “I’m gonna go downstairs to help with dinner. See you in a bit!”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, watching you exit his room. He pulls the cushion back from behind his head to examine the tag once again. ‘MADE WITH LOVE, BY MC.’

“With love,” he whispers, tracing the words. Is that how you feel about him? How he feels about you? And he groans, pressing his face against it.

(Just wait till he finds the card inside the bag and reads the sweet message you wrote. He won’t be able to look you in the eyes for a week.)

–

Thank you for reading! Please reblog!

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a coffee!

<3 Aerie

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