#RETURN TO HADDONFIELD

[dirtandspitoftheworld]

OOOOUGHHHH THE CALLBACK TO THE CHORUS OF “HADDONFIELD”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bookwormsreview]

Return to haddonfield is delectable apple and pumpkin scent.

https://peoplestinkmelts.etsy.com/listing/1264378498

[brody75]

Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers (1988)

[blood-trip-god2]

Dr. Loomis enjoyed pranking those kids trying to break into Michael's house on a dare too much

[morimemichael]

What slashers/villans do when they see their s/o crying

How would: OG!Michael, Brahms, Wesker, Ghostface, Pyramid Head, RZ!Michael and OLD!Michael (2018 movie), react if they saw you crying.

WG: None, just fluff <3

OG!Michael

He was stalking you as usual, it was around 6pm when he heard you talking with someone on the phone.

“Is there anything we can do to fix these, Claire?”

Your voice…were you crying?

“Claire, we’ve been friends since we were 4! Please…”

You definitely were crying by now. Your best friend was cutting the bond between you two

“Ok….ok. I hope you do well in life too. Thanks for the memories. Yeah, yeah…bye bye” Now you were crying your eyes out

Michael saw this and immediately thought of slaughtering whoever was this Claire girl, but he didn’t know were she lived

Instead he looked around, he noticed in one of your backyard bushes some kind of flower. He remembered it from the times you used to play with him cause you both were the same age and neighbors so you used to play hide and seek with him.

He grabbed some of this flowers and sneaked into your house unnoticed. Looked for your room and successfully found it

He decided to leave the little flowers on the nightstand

Since he was in Haddonfield again you knew deep down he was watching you. He never did anything to you tho, that keep you calm

Coming from the bathroom you caught a glimpse of him leaving your house. “Michael…?” He turned around and gave you his signature head tilt.

He then got closer to you, and with one of his hands put a little lock of hair behind your left ear. You smiled at his act

BRAHMS

You were crying on bed that night when he saw you.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. Voice deep

“Uhm…I just found out my childhood pet crossed the rainbow today, and i wasn’t there to be with him.” You said

“Crossed the rainbow…?” He didn’t understand.

“Yeah…when pets passed away we say they crossed the rainbow…so it’s not so sad to think about it.”

“Oh…I see. Can you show me how he looked like?” He asked in his deeper voice but still a little bit childish.

“Of course…” You then showed him the picture of a beautiful and happy dog.

“He looked happy.” He said. You just nod

And with that, he was gone.

You remain laid in the bed a little more before you resumed whatever you were doing before you found out the bad news

When you came back to the bedroom a huge doll that ressambled your loyal dog from your childhood was placed on your bed. Tears threatening to stream down again.

Next to the bed was Brahms, who had his arms behind his back and was idling in the same spot patiently.

“Do you like it?” He asked eagerly to know

“Brahms…” That’s all you could say

Immediately Brahms thought he had done something wrong. He was ready to apologize but your arms around him stopped him.

“Thank you, thank you…” You keep repeating that over and over again

“You’re welcome.” He said returning the hug

Needless to say you slept hugging the doll all night with Brahms being the big spoon.

WESKER

He’s cold and distant, so when he saw you crying he didn’t know what to do

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, he just doesn’t know how to show it

He didn’t asked you anything, mind too busy thinking what he could do

He decided that sitting down your side and hold you in his arms would work for him and help you, hopefully

For his surprise, it did work

GHOSTFACE

You didn’t do well on the university today

So when he saw you silently crying, he didn’t say anything or even make noise

He put on normal clothes, gathered some of your favorite snacks and a big coke

He entered your bedroom, situated himself on your bed and put all the food down

“Well, we’re watching a movie tonight. Choose the one of your liking dear.” He said

“You saw me crying right?”

“Yeah I did”

“You got some snaks and coke?” You asked him

“Of I did honey.” He answered

“I love you babe.” You hugged him

“Me too dearheart.”

PYRAMID HEAD

Might seem like a bad guy on the outside but in reality it’s a sweet little boy

The first time he saw you crying, he did everything that could be done to make you feel better

You want Kandy? You got it. You want cuddles? You got it. Anything you want, you get.

If you just want him to listen, he’ll sit next to you, hand on your knee while you take it all out

Occasionally will nod his head to let you know he’s listening

And if after crying you need a bath, he’ll prepare bomb bath, candles and some chocolates, then he’ll carry you to the bath himself.

RZ!MICHAEL

You were a patient in the same hospital as him, even if he didn’t talk you enjoyed his company

The first time he saw you cry when was when you told him that some other patients wouldn’t leave you be

“Can I stay with you for a while please?” You ask

He nods, then he takes you to his bed and tuck you up, he wanted you to take a little nap while he continued with his masks, or that’s what you thought

You were suddenly woken up by the feeling of a finger caressing your cheek

Michael was sitting next to you, his finger still caressing you cheek

He stood up and went straight to his working desk to grab something

He went back to you with a mask on his hand

“For me?” You asked him smiling

He nodded, then looked down

He has made you a mask of your favorite animal

“Oh Michael, that’s so sweet from you”

You didn’t notice but under his own paper mask his cheeks blushed

OLD!MICHAEL(2018)

Whenever you cry for whatever reason this man absents himself. Why? Cause it’s too much for good old Michael to handle

Tho there was this particular time when you were taking care of your friend’s kitten that when the time to took this little fella back to his own family you were crying like hell

You had become attached to this little kitten that you didn’t even want to give him back

Michael couldn’t see this and do nothing, specially when you saw him tending to leave through the principal door and got even sadder

He got an idea

It was like 7pm and you were starting to wonder where Michael was when the sound of a door opening ran through your ears

Michael stood there, in his arms was holding a little thing. From afar you couldn’t distinguish what it was

Not until that little thing turned its little head back to look at you, and your eyes were met with a big orange ones

“Oh my god Michael, you brought me a little kitten?” You asked smiling

The little animal liking Michael’s face was too cute to see

He nodded and reached the kitten to you

Of course you happily took the animal in your arms

Michael wouldn’t admit it, but he melt at the side of you holding the little fella

Well here’s another fic 😗 I hope you like it 😊

Sorry for any misspelling, English it’s not my mother language.

Friendly reminder that requests are open! 🤗

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 3

Michael Myers + Drugged and/or captured.

This is a spiritual sequel to the bondage/shibari Michael Myers prompt from last year’s Kinktober. This is a shorter one, cuz ya boy is busy with his studies 🤓

Pretty sure this counts as dub-con, so like, watch out for that ig.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

A year had passed since your last run in with Michael Myers, one year since you had panicked and tied him up and left him on the floor of your living room. And one year since he escaped the very moment you looked away. You had been on edge all year because of it, as Michael had never been found or caught, his killing spree even seemed to come to an end for the time being after he had left your home. This didn’t stop the entire population of Haddonfield from worrying as the next Halloween night approached.

Most who could afford it left the town for the week leading up to Halloween and afterwards, but you, like many, could in no way afford a two-week holiday. Your run in with Michael wasn’t a secret though, so the day before Halloween your manager had sent you home early and told you to return a few days after the holiday. It felt like they were signing your death warrant, but it also made sense to keep the murder count down if Michael was gonna come for you again this year.

Ever since the past Halloween it had been impossible for you to sleep, to the point where you had been prescribed sleeping medication. You didn’t want to take it the days leading up to Halloween, terrified that you wouldn’t be able to wake up in case Michael showed up again, but as you sat on your couch already feeling like a corpse you were regretting that decision.

There hadn’t been a single report of murder this year though, so at some point in your sleep deprived delusions you’d convinced yourself all was safe, popped your meds, and fallen asleep in your bed still completely dressed. But maybe you should have listened to your paranoia more, as not long after you had gone to sleep a familiar slow-moving shadow snuck through your house, heavy footsteps approaching your bedroom where you laid splayed out like a starfish, a pool of drool already forming on your pillow.

Michael could only give a small head tilt as he saw your unconscious body, unsure of what to do. Part of him had hoped for a repeat of the last year, as the feeling of your ropes holding him in place had never left his mind, awakening a different kind of hunger than his usual hunger for blood. Even as Michael crawled up onto the bed, his bulk causing your bedframe to creak in complaint, you barely twitched.

Michael panted under his mask as his hands shook, feeling an unfamiliar churning in his abdomen as he dug through your drawers, pushing aside knickknacks and different toys you kept laying around, pulling out a colourful rope similar to the one you had used to tie him up with last year. His work was nowhere as skilled as your own, but it worked in securing your arms above your head, leaving them out of his way as his wild strength tore your clothes to ribbons.

You vision swam as you woke up, your body felt too heavy and sluggish like it always did when you woke up with your meds still in your system. Normally youd only wake if you really needed to go to the bathroom, something you were pretty sure you did in your sleep most days, but this time it was different. Something heavy was bearing down on you, and as you tried to move you found your arms strung up above your head. But most noticeably was the wet heat around your length, tight and insistent. Even in your sleep addled mind you could sense the strong thighs boxing in your hips as the persons rough hands groped at your torso.

The half coherent part of your mind was sure this was all a dream, even as your vision cleared for the most part, though it was still blurry around the edges. Because how else would any of this make sense. Why would Michael Myers of all people be riding you like his life depended on it, knocking the air right out of your chest as his bulky form weighed down on you. It wasn’t the weirdest wet dream you’d ever had, and you were pretty sure you had overheard somewhere that fear could lead to lust.

He wasn’t moaning, which saddened you somehow, even as he panted and gave small grunts when you would rub against his prostate. Had this all been real, you would have grabbed his hips to show him how to hit that spot every time, but it seemed in your dream your arms were tied, and the sluggish nature of your body made it hard to even roll your hips up into his.

It was only when his hands wrapped around your throat and you could feel yourself become lightheaded that it hit you that this might be real, as your hips started to ache from the speed of his riding and your vision started to swim from lack of oxygen and not just the meds in your system. The orgasm rolled through your entire body, starting from the top of your head, and running all the way down to your curling toes as you groaned sluggishly. You were sure drool was running down your chin at this point.

You would first realize the next morning that Michael came just as hard as you did, as he didn’t seem to have cared to clean you up afterwards. He had been polite enough to release your arms though. Your hips were killing you all day, who’d have thought having a guy Michael size ride you like a wild horse would mess up your back so much. It was only as you sat eating breakfast that it hit you that it had all really happened, and you needed to sit with your face in your hands for a bit, trying to fight off the heat it created in your abdomen, trying to ignore the small hope that hed return again tonight.

[cece693]

Childhood Friends (Michael Myers x M! Reader)

Summary: You couldn't remember your childhood, so with a plan to return to your old home in Haddonfield for clues, you never expected yourself to be tied to the boogeyman himself, Michael Myers.

tags: childhood friends, Michael remembers you, mentions of memory blanks, happy??? ending

Your memory was shit. Anything before the age of eight was a void of nothingness and you hated it. Talking to your parents didn't work: 1) they were dead and 2) even when they were alive, they were too preoccupied with the bitch of your sister to pay attention to you. So, with nothing but a measly 300 dollars to your name, you traveled back to your childhood home in Haddonfield.

You didn't expect much from the trip, to be honest—a vague recollection of a location or a friendly face, but not the plethora of history that followed your family. Ignoring the stares as you walked through the streets and up the old stairway to your home, you turned the key and stepped inside. Once the door clicked shut behind you, you finally let out all the pent-up anger you'd been holding in.

You always knew your last name was trouble—your family was composed of delinquents and shady people. Still, you hadn't expected yourself to be associated with the boogeyman himself, Michael Myers. When you saw his name, it was like a gate swung open. Memories came rushing back, one after another, until you were thrown into the past—back to when you and a young Michael were friends. You remembered standing up to his bullies and tending to his bruises when they found him wandering alone.

And more embarrassingly, the pact you guys made. It was stupid—you were both young and naive—but it was easy to promise something to a boy who had nothing. Together forever.

At the time you laughed it off, thinking it was just Michael’s strange way of saying you were his best friend. But he was dead serious. The way he had looked at you, his eyes intense and unwavering sent shivers down your spine. Not wanting to remember anything else, as it was beginning to give you a headache, you decided to take a small nap. That nap ended up being hours. Once you awoke, the room was pitch black, the clock on the nightstand flashing midnight.

"Shit." You murmured to yourself. You had hoped to get more done, to start unpacking the few boxes you'd brought into this old place, but it seemed you needed sleep. With a sigh, you stood and made your way out of the bedroom, intending to grab a snack before going back to sleep. But as you reached the bottom of the staircase, a strange feeling washed over you.

You paused, squinting into the dark living room—perhaps you were going crazy, or sleep still clung to you.

But then you saw him.

Standing in the middle of the room, his back to you, was a tall figure, his broad shoulders unmistakable. For a moment, you were paralyzed, unsure of what to do. The last time you had seen Michael, he had been a friend, but now he was something unrecognizable.

The thought of fleeing crossed your mind, but before you could act, Michael slowly turned around. His face was obscured by the eerie white mask, the hollow eyes staring back at you, unblinking and unreadable. He didn't move, didn't speak. He just stood there, watching, as if waiting for you to take the first step.

"Michael?" you whispered, the word barely audible in the tense silence.

As soon as the name left your lips, Michael began to move in your direction. Your instinct was to back away, and you did, taking a cautious step backward, your heart pounding in your chest. It seemed he had sensed your fear as he stopped, and held his hands up, a silent indication that he meant no harm. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached up to his face, his fingers curling around the edge of the mask.

Michael’s hands hesitated for a fraction of a second before pulling the mask off. His blond hair, tousled and unkempt, fell slightly over his forehead, framing a face that was older yet familiar. He took a step forward and this time you didn’t move back. The fear was still there but it mingled with something else: curiosity.

Before you knew it, you were standing right in front of him, close enough to see the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You reached out, hesitantly at first, and then with more certainty, wrapping your arms around him. Michael’s body tensed for a split second, but then he responded, his arms coming up to envelop you in a hug.

His embrace was strong, almost overwhelming in its intensity, and you were struck by how much larger he had become over the years. His frame dwarfed yours, making you feel small in comparison, but there was a strange comfort in it. As if the world could fade away and nothing could touch you as long as he held you like this.

Michael, on the other hand, was ecstatic. After what felt like an eternity, he was reunited with the only person he had ever truly cared for. And now, holding you in his arms, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in years. I will not let you go again, Michael vowed, together forever. This wasn’t just a reunion—it was a new beginning. And he would do whatever it took to ensure you stayed by his side.

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Michael Myers (1/3)

Word Count; 3.7k

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I rolled onto my side, hand slamming down on the alarm. A groggy yawn escaped my lips. Daylight cascaded past the curtains. Normally, I’d loiter a little longer, but it was my first day at a new job, and I was carpooling with Irene, a sweet neighbor and mother of four with whom I became acquainted.

So, I stepped out of bed and went to the bathroom, going through my morning routine with extra care. I was tired, but despite that, motivated. After all, it was my first job straight out of college after having received my nursing degree. Sure, the job would probably be more intense than most… but my parents wanted me to return home.

I finished up a thin layer of makeup and got dressed. I supposed that I wouldn’t need to be all flashy since I’d be wearing a nursing outfit upon arrival, but I still wanted to leave a good impression on my new boss, Samuel Loomis.

I took my time eating breakfast. I was quite nervous, but I knew things would go smoothly. Sure, working at a sanitarium could be unsafe, but even the most dangerous members of society deserve to be treated with humanity. 

It was approaching half-past-eight, so I zoomed out the door. Irene was parked out front and I walked up to the car. I opened the door, greeting,” Hey, Irene!”

“Good morning, Y/n,” the black-haired Asian woman greeted. 

We headed through Haddonfield. The radio was turned to a minimum. We made some small talk on the drive, eventually exiting the main town and venturing through some forestry. We eventually approached the Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. I fiddled with my bag.

The guards let us through the front gate after confirming our identities. Irene parked near the front of the dismal grey building. All of the barred windows were off-putting. It must’ve gotten cold during the winter. 

“I hope you can last,” Irene sighed. “This job can be… stressful. It depends on who your assigned patients are, though. Mine are fairly nice, but some of our coworkers have experienced violence. And infrequently, death.”

Shivers rolled down my spine. I mustered no reply. We went to the front desk. “Hi, sir. I’m a new employee. Where am I supposed to go?” I asked the attendant, leaning against the counter.

He sent me a small smile. “I’ll call Doctor Loomis. He always insists on showing new employees around himself.”

He reached for the phone and pressed a button, calling for Doctor Loomis. Meanwhile, I sent Irene off since she had more pressing matters. 

A middle-aged man emerged from one of the doors a few minutes later. I recognized him immediately, as his book was incredibly popular, even today.

“Hello, sir!”

The man sent me a warm grin. “You must be Ms. L/n. There’s no time to waste. Let me show you around.”

“Great! Thank you for this opportunity, sir.”

A tour began. I was shaking in my boots, but hardly from the circumstances. I felt more at home in the sanitarium than in any other place, but I was determined to make a good impression on her new boss. The tour seemed almost redundant; it was as though I hadn’t been thoroughly introduced to the map in my pocket already.

“I have a patient that I’d like you to take special care of. Of course, there will be others, but this one… needs someone with such a sunny disposition such as yourself,” Dr. Loomis explained. “I’m sure you’ve heard and perhaps grown up with the stories of this particular patient: Michael Myers. He is a renowned serial killer.”

“Yes,” I replied chipperly. “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“Good, because you are going to right now.”

The abruptness took me aback. Anxiety attempted to curl against my insides, but I didn’t allow it. We halted in front of a door that was far sturdier than the others; the door looked fresh and new, which told a story all of its own. Dr. Loomis withdrew keys from his pocket and inserted one. I couldn’t help but gulp.

The door squeals open. I anticipate the deadpan stare as the man and I make immediate eye contact. I had only heard of his strange mask, but never had I seen what he actually looked like: brown, tussled, and overgrown hair. A sharp jawline. Bright blue eyes. Broad and tall. Everything that, under normal circumstances, would make a girl’s heart flutter. But mine was still. He sat in a perfect posture on the bed, and thick metal cuffs gave him little to no freedom with a chain stuck in the wall. 

“Michael. This is Y/n, your new nurse. I hired her to attend to — almost exclusively — your needs. I hope you two can get along. Ms. L/n?” Dr. Loomis introduced, ushering me in.

I grinned, trying to shake off the nerves. “Hello, Michael. I look forward to helping you out. Take it easy on me while I get used to the job, alright?”

“Very good. Now, Ms. L/n will get your lunch medication.”

I was startled but eagerly nodded, having already been shown and trained the how of it all. “Yes. It was wonderful to meet you, Michael.”

As Dr. Loomis and I exited, I felt his gaze glued to me. It was rather unnerving.

Ten minutes later, alone and armed only with my alarm, cell key, and medications, I returned. I took a deep breath. Little did Loomis know, but I had a vague history with Michael Myers. Although we never spoke, he had been in my kindergarten class all the way to when he went on a murder spree. I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew me, too.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t want to work at this specific sanitarium, even though it was my dream job. However, due to parental pressure, I was urged not to leave the area. Coincidentally, this was the only place hiring. Michael Myers was old enough that my parents didn’t bat an eye when I mentioned where I would be working, so it all fit together perfectly.

I entered the room with the small metal tray. Michael hadn’t moved an inch. His eyes bore into me — or perhaps beyond me — and his fists were still clenched in his lap. “Now, although I’m new,” I began,” I’m sure you know the drill. A few pills and a shot.”

I approached warily. Michael did nothing but blink. I sat the tray down on the bedside table, my moves calculated. I grabbed the styrofoam cup of water and handed it to him. He downed his pills with ease and took the shot like a champ. It put me on edge how still the man was. I carefully sat on the bed next to him.

“Although I was advised against breaching the five feet of the chain’s length, I hope you won’t mind. I just… wanted you to get to know me a little since I’ll be working closely with you.” His gaze flitted toward me, cold. “I just recently graduated from nursing school with a specialization in psychiatrics. I was born and raised in Haddonfield, the same as you. And this kind of job is my dream job since I believe that even criminals deserve care and to be treated as humans. So, Michael, I hope you understand that I will do my best to ensure you are well cared for, even in these conditions.”

As I expected, there was hardly any indication he had heard me at all. I stood and nodded. “Anyways, I believe it’s time for lunch. I’ve heard you aren’t allowed to eat with the others, but… I’m hoping I can change that.”

~~~

And change that I did. Dr. Loomis was surprised by Michael’s supposed ‘obedience,’ which had been there from the start. By the time he allowed me to take him to the cafeteria, I had been working there for two months. And although I watched closely, I had hardly noticed any changes in his behavior. My coworker, Irene, convinced me otherwise. With the dangerous stunts I’d been pulling proximity-wise, it was shocking that I had yet to end up like the others.

I wasn’t one to play dumb. I knew that Michael had the highest kill count with the nurses. With giant hands and a large body, he could easily overpower me, but the encouragement I’d gotten from my superiors kept me going. And today was major progress.

Guards clutched at his elbows as we walked down the sanitarium halls. I frowned slightly, knowing that if Michael wanted to do anything, he certainly could, cuffs or otherwise. I walked slightly ahead, having been entrusted with the keys to the cuffs. Although Michael would be somewhat separated, Dr. Loomis believed this to be major news for Michael’s rehabilitation — and now, the doctor was supporting me in risky endeavors.

I grabbed lunch for him as the guards settled him in the corner of the cafeteria. Eyes from the other patients were stuck to me, as I’d only been vaguely introduced. I. Mainly worked with Michael, although I covered a shift for the nurse who works with Marcus — and I understood why she called off so often.

Marcus was an interesting subject. He was a serial rapist, and it showed. Despite his history, Dr. Loomis often had female nurses working with him. And when I did, he did nothing but spit cruel, perverse cat calls at me. I heard a familiar whistle and knew it had come from his general area. I wasn’t surprised that the serial killer made me more comfortable than the rapist.

I returned to Michael with his food. His eyes bore into me, and I smiled. “Now, Michael, I had to pull many strings for this. I hope you appreciate this, but I’m allowed to remove your cuffs for a more comfortable eating experience.”

Michael's eyes flickered to his hands and back to me. I noticed his lips twitched, too. Progress, I chanted in my head. This was progress.

The guards took the handcuffs and held them tightly. They were trained to assess everyone and everything as a threat. Michael was slow and calculated, rolling his wrists. He then took his fork and ate. A sense of intrigue fell over the other patients, and some of the other nurses had their eyes glued to Michael’s form. They were waiting for a freakout that wouldn’t happen, either because Michael was making progress or because he wasn’t dumb enough to plan a breakout in this environment.

Mealtime passed without a hitch. I spent the entire time saddled up beside him. My job felt meaningful as I sat with him. When it was time for him to be escorted back to his room, I told Michael I would see about more comfortable handcuffs for him. Exiting the cafeteria was without hitches, minus a loud holler from Marcus, to which I couldn’t help but notice how Michael’s hands clenched.

When he was safely back in his cell, I decided to try another risky maneuver; I set him free from his restraints and sat beside him on the bed. Michael was still; he always was. I cleared my throat, beginning my typical speech of positivity.

“I know it probably seems silly to you, Michael, but I’m quite proud of you. I’m glad you’re challenging expectations here. You’re really making progress, whether you admit to it or not, and I thank you for that.”

~~~ 

Or so I thought. That night, my landline awoke me from a deep slumber. I thought nothing of it, deciding I wouldn’t be a pushover and pick up another night shift at work. However, the ringing persisted. And when it stopped momentarily, it came again.

I rolled out of bed. My hair was disheveled, and my purple silk pajamas — a gracious housewarming gift from my mother — were crumpled and twisted slightly. I shuffled downstairs, the ringing getting louder the closer I grew. I finally made it to the phone. 

“Hello —“

“L/n, you need to get down here right now! It’s an emergency —“

“Dr. Loomis, what —“

“He’s gone on a rampage. Twelve nurses are dead, and so are five patients —“

“I’ll be right there!”

The line went dead instantly. My mouth no longer felt dry. I was fully alert, although some sleep persisted in the creases of my eyes. I dashed upstairs and pulled on my earlier clothes, which lay scattered on the ground. With that, I made it to my bright blue buggy and drove to my endangered work site.

I’m not entirely sure what motivated me. I thought the police would better handle the situation, and it felt as though all of my efforts had been reduced to nothing. Something had set him off. But I wasn’t a therapist. I shouldn’t have crossed that boundary of trying to give him opportunities.

I pulled into the parking lot.

The moment I exited the car, I heard screaming. Several police cars were parked in front of the sanitarium's entrance. A group of police officers was huddled, but even they seemed worried. I pushed past despite warnings to remain outside. I dashed through the entrance. I followed the sound of the screams. 

And upon entering the prisoner hallways, I found her. My dear friend and coworker, Irene. She lay in the middle of the hallway as a twitching, bloody mess. A weapon had clearly been used: the handcuffs. Her head was bashed in, but there was also bruising around her throat. She’s been bashed and choked to death.

The halls were eerily silent. All of the cells had been unlocked. Some of the patients’ corpses were scattered. All of this destruction… was done by one man.

What had I done? What part of Michael had I unlocked?

I skulked down the hallways. Where were the guards? Where were the police? Where was anybody?

I passed by deceased coworkers as I skulked carefully down the hallways. Occasionally, some of the corpses released dying breaths, but I was certain I was following the blood. And then, as I glanced at the floor, I noticed the smears stopped and bloody footsteps began. The feet were large, and the shoe prints belonged to prisoner shoewear. I gulped, recognizing that the footsteps went straight toward the cafeteria entrance. Worst of all, if Michael discovered the back exit for the cafeteria staff, he would be free.

The doors were wide open, and one was even off the hinges. I stood in the entrance. It was pitch black inside, although the lights sometimes flickered on and off. The footsteps seemed to fade out very quickly into the cafeteria. 

I gulped and took a step back. What was I thinking? That I could confront him? The man was a mammoth and a maniac. I was just the nurse who supported his development. He probably hated my guts, despite what Dr. Loomis thought.

None of the bodies belonged to Dr. Loomis. So where was he? And where was Michael?

I wasn’t left wondering for very long. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed some postils gleaming from the hallway to my right. The police were here, and I was nothing more than bait. No wonder they let me through so easily. Shivers rolled down my spine, and I took two steps into the blackness of the cafeteria.

As the lights flickered on, I saw him. He was holding the corpse of Marcus, that damned patient. I didn’t feel too bad about him, but I was shaking in my boots as the body fell to the ground, and Michael’s gaze turned directly toward me.

His expression had not changed from that of any other day. Cold. Calm. Empty.

And as though he was gliding, he made a beeline toward me. So many questions about his escape flashed through my cranium, and all I could do was freeze in place. A scream remained silent in my throat as I put my trust in the police to be right behind me. My fists clenched, and I opened my mouth just as Michael was a few feet away from me.

“Michael, stop!”

He did.

That made my heart drop to my stomach. However, I realized I did hold some power. I was waiting desperately for the police to enter and intervene, but they were waiting. I decidedly didn’t want them to and took a step back. Michael tilted his head, unblinking. He stayed frozen in place. A plastic knife with the handle broken off was in his bloodied hands, and I noticed some gelatin goo was sticking to the tips. His jumpsuit was drenched and sprayed, as was his face. His hair had never looked more tussled. And even without smiling, he had never seemed more gleeful.

“Michael, what… what is happening? Why did you… do this?”

Before Michael could even think, shuffling footsteps came from behind me. My jaw dropped as an arm suddenly looped around my waist and pulled me away. But Michael just stood standing still as gunshots drilled into his chest. And then, finally, he dropped.

~~~

“Ms. L/n, I understand —“

“No, Dr. Loomis, you don’t,” I pleaded, my aggravation present. “Michael is alive and detained. Something I did set him off, or he was planning it. Nothing I can do will help. I refuse to return to work. I am quitting, effective immediately.”

Dr. Loomis, from behind his work desk, suddenly banged his fists into the desk. “L/n! I know it’s been hard on everyone, but we need you here. We’ve lost twelve nurses. The nurse-to-patient ratio isn’t adding up. The sanitarium is overrun and, if even for the short term, we need you here. I know what we went through was hard, and what happened here can’t happen again.”

“But it will. Does anyone even know how he escaped?” I quipped snappily. “He never even managed to escape his handcuffs. He didn’t need to. So who’s to say it won’t happen again?”

“Because he is being sent away to a sanitarium called Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. It has a high level of security, far better than ours —“

“Good. But that doesn’t mean I am capable of returning to work. I am leaving now, Dr. Loomis.”

With an exasperated expression, Dr. Loomis grasped at the air where I once sat. I didn’t glance back as I exited the office. And I didn’t spare any moments to analyze my surroundings until I was in my car on the road heading far, far away from the sanitarium.

My parents, having finally connected the dots about my job, had been scared shitless. Luckily, it was summer, and the Haddonfield High School was hiring for a new biology position. I was planning to apply to keep things rolling. Deep down, though, I just wanted to ditch this town and escape the parental pressures I was forced into. It was a little late for that, though. The damage had been done.

~~~

For class that day, I had been gracious. I put on the Charlie Brown Halloween movie and sat at my desk. I couldn’t help but notice that as most kids were either passing notes, doodling, or watching, I had one student whose eyes were glued to the window. Laurie had her pen stuck in her mouth as she adamantly stared out.

Suddenly, Laurie looked rather alarmed and made direct eye contact with me. “Ma’am?”

“Yes, Laurie?”

“Can - can I go to the bathroom?”

I paused, glancing out the window for myself. A car was driving away. “Yes, Laurie, go ahead.”

Some of the kids snickered, to which I sent a stern glare. I went back to grading papers, instead getting lost in thought. Teaching was hardly my calling. I was a natural stutterer in the wrong element and did not enjoy disciplining undisciplined children. I also felt that it was dull to go back to the basics, which I would probably end up doing year after year with no change. I knew I had a lot of liberty and the job paid well, but it wasn’t like my time at the sanitarium, with doubled paychecks and a routine that wasn’t up to me. However, I promised my parents to stick around until a better job opportunity popped up.

The movie credits were suddenly rolling, and a student alerted me from my position. Laurie had rejoined the group at some point. I flicked off the television. 

“Well, since I’m everybody’s favorite teacher, and it’s Halloween, why don’t you all just head out early? Class dismissed. Don’t cause any ruckus. I’m looking at you, Tommy.” 

I sent a friendly grin, and the students whooped and hollered. Laurie only glanced away from the window and began packing her things. Laurie was a good student: studious, communicative, and attentive. Perhaps movie days just weren’t her style. Several students came up to talk to me in a line after class, wishing me a happy holiday or asking about grades. Laurie slunk out of the classroom quietly.

After the classroom had been evacuated, I sighed, and out of morbid curiosity, I wandered over to Laurie’s seat. I was taken aback as I recognized that the car from earlier had returned, but even more disturbing, a tall figure with a white mask and brown hair loomed over the vehicle. He made direct eye contact with me.

My brain began processing so many horrors all at once. I hadn’t thought about Michael specifically in months, but it all came flooding back. His history… but it was also Halloween. And no news had come to me about Michael’s escape. Not from Dr. Loomis or the papers.

Regardless, I stumbled back, blinking at the masked figure. We maintained a long, steady eye contact. Even when a man walking his dog strolled on the opposite side of the street, I knew the masked figure’s gaze remained glued to me. 

It couldn’t be Michael. It was a creepy Halloween prank…

I steeled myself and wandered back to my desk. I hurriedly packed up, abandoning the biology tests on the desk in a flurry. Prank or otherwise, I was thoroughly disturbed and wanted to escape that man’s gaze.

When I glanced out the window one last time, the car and man were long gone.

[calmcoldevening]

Slashers x suicidal!reader

TW: suicidal thoughts, mention of blood, suicide, self harm, explicit suicide

Characters: Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

I wrote this for people who have had suicide attempts or still have suicidal thoughts. honey, you are not alone, if you have such a problem, then please talk to someone from your loved ones about it or visit a psychologist. your health and life are important ♡ at least let's talk about it together, you're wonderful

Ps: sorry for misspels, English is not my native language

Jason Voorhees

• Jason spent most of the day making his rounds around the camp. In the morning, he gently kissed you on the forehead, removing the strands of hair stuck to your skin wet from the summer heat, and mumbled contentedly, enjoying your calm expression.

• This day was not distinguished by anything special. It was the middle of July, so it was quite hot both outside and in the cabins. Knowing that you are certainly suffering from such hot weather, Jason decided to offer you to go to the lake. And although he wasn't a fan of the idea himself, the cool water should have made you feel a little better.

• Jason enters the house and stops awkwardly. Usually at this time you were sitting in the living room and reading one of the new magazines or books that he found for you. You weren't in the bedroom either. The man was seriously scared, fearing the worst.

• Finally, he notices the light pouring from behind the bathroom door and freezes right in the doorway. You were lying almost up to your neck in the reddening water. His bloody knife was lying on the floor.

• Jason is seized with instant panic. At first, he thinks that it could have been done by one of the violators, whom he simply did not notice during his morning rounds. But then in his aching head there are memories of your repeated jokes about death and strange behavior. God, he was so blind.

• Jason gently pulls you out of the water. Your eyes are closed and your body is very cold and pale. The man quickly carries you into the bedroom, completely oblivious to your blood covering all his clothes.

• He checks all the lockers in your shared bedroom, hoping to find one of your small first aid kits. Finally he finds it. The man clumsily bandages your wounds on your arms and stomach, then covering the throbbing flesh with anxious kisses.

• Tears flow down his cheeks as he squeezes your palm in his hands and makes painful sounds. Jason climbs onto the bed and pulls you into his arms along with a warm blanket, hoping to warm your unconscious body.

• He was such a fool not to notice your obvious pain and suffering. Was it that bad for you? Why didn't you tell him about it? Jason could have helped, he would have tried! It will be so bad for him if you are gone...

• The man noticed how your face twisted and you opened your eyes slightly, squinting from the bright light. He was so glad you woke up! Jason gently ran the thumb of his free hand over your cheek, wiping away the already dried tears. He held you as close to him as possible, his excited breath tickled your ear. Don't leave him. Never.

• A hoarse breath escapes from your chest as Jason babbles incoherent sounds of relief. When you fully recover, he relaxes his grip on your body, giving you the opportunity to move, and tilts his head to the side. Why did you do that? Still weak, you shyly look away. You probably didn't think it would turn out that way, he came too early. But deep down you wanted and hoped that he would save you. You awkwardly squeeze the edge of the blanket, stilling sobs. Jason covers your hand with his palm, drawing your attention. He obviously wants to tell you something.

• Index finger at himself. Then at you. His palm touches his lips, and then covers his heart.

Michael Myers

• Michael was out hunting. He usually returned early in the morning, but today Haddonfield was surprisingly quiet, so the man decided to return home a little earlier. After all, you should have been asleep a long time ago, so his earlier return won't be anything special.

• Michael came in through the back door. He took off his dirty shoes, leaving it on the doorstep. You've never been thrilled when you found bloody footprints all over your house in the morning. The man went into the kitchen, intending to get something to eat before he went to bed. The choice was made on a can of lemonade and a pack of chocolates that you bought especially for him not so long ago. Michael rolled up the edge of the mask on the way to the living room and began to eat sweets.

• An instant icy shiver went through his body when he saw you in the living room, hanging in a noose. The food flew out of Michael's hands as he pulled a bloody knife out of his pocket and yanked the rope. The man gently picks up your limp body, pressing it to his chest. He tries to act quickly.

• Smiths Grove has never said anything about rescuing sufferers of asphyxia, but Michael is knowledgeable enough about the abilities of the human body to help. He puts your feet on his knees, gently laying your head on the floor, and wraps his palm around your neck, reddened from the rope. There will be a bruise. The man feels a barely perceptible pulse. For the first time, the whispers in his head fell silent, leaving behind only an unaccustomed painful silence.

• Michael clumsily touches his lips to yours, hoping to do something similar to artificial respiration.

• His body relaxes when your mouth begins to swallow air quickly and superficially on its own, returning your lungs to working condition.

• Michael would be angry if it was another person he was trying to kill. But now he's ready to cry with happiness, watching your eyes slowly open.

• The man jerks up your body, knocking the last air out of your lungs, and presses you to him. He kisses your neck, and you feel warm liquid trickling down your skin. He was crying. The shape of Haddonfield was crying because of you. Michael was afraid of losing you forever.

• "Don't leave," he whispers into your neck, desperately clutching the fabric of your clothes in his fists, "Please."

• The mask has been dropped and is lying on the floor, and now you can see his trembling features. A man runs his palm over your face. For him, you are the most precious thing in this world, even if he didn't say it out loud. You are the first person who made his heart beat faster not because of a desire to kill, but because of a warm tickling feeling in his chest. Love. Michael loved you. For real.

Thomas Hewitt

• It was a particularly quiet day. New tourists were not expected in the next two weeks, until the weather outside the window becomes more favorable; Luda, along with Charlie and Monty, went to distant relatives to celebrate the upcoming holidays, and Thomas spent the whole day in the basement, trying to restore order there.

• And although the man was already pretty tired from work, he still couldn't go upstairs to hug you and spend time together. He has too much to do before his mother and uncles return. Although he was scared by the fact that you've been avoiding him for the last few days. You seemed more closed and scared, as if you were afraid even of your own shadow. You often skipped meals, although Thomas didn't notice that you were against their "special food" before. You were pale and nervous, but he couldn't understand what was happening to you. To all his questions, you refused and said that everything was fine. He was afraid to put pressure on you.

• But it was too quiet upstairs right now. If earlier it was possible to hear your rare quiet footsteps on the old creaking floor, now there was a tense silence in the air. It bothered Thomas.

• Would it be so bad if he left work for a while to check on you?

• The man wiped his hands on a towel lying on the workbench and wandered towards the stairs. The old floorboards screamed, cutting through the silence pressing on the temples like blades. Thomas walked around the entire first floor when, going up the stairs, he heard your quiet sobs. He instantly rushed into your bedroom, from which the noise was coming. The man forcefully opens the door; the tree thuds against the concrete wall.

• You were sitting on the bed, clutching the knife tightly in your hand. Your free hand was like a piece of naked flesh, as if you were one of the victims. Blood was quickly flowing out of your fresh wound, staining your clothes and sheets. Your face was red, and streams of tears were running down your cheeks.

• The man's lips trembled, his eyes ran in disbelief over your shrinking being. Thomas approaches you quickly, cautiously, holding out his hand to you. He touches your trembling shoulder, pulling you to him as gently as possible. With one hand, he buries himself in your wet hair at the back of your head, while with the other, as carefully as possible, he snatches the knife out of your hands. You cry loudly, as if coming to your senses, and bite your nails into his broad back. Thomas wraps his hands around your face, gently running his thumbs over your cheeks. His heart hurts. Why did you want to do this? Is it because of him? Has someone offended you? Why didn't he notice how desperate you were all this time? This strange behavior, lack of mood and apathy, it was all for a reason.

• Thomas picks you up under your knees in wedding style and carries you to the bathroom, intending to treat your wounds. You were the real sun in his life, you accepted him and loved him despite his disgusting appearance, you were one of the few who accepted him for who he is. But he didn't do the same for you. You were suffering, and he preferred not to interfere with your thoughts, for fear of harming you even more.

• The man was carefully watching you and your tired eyes from what happened, wrapping your left forearm with a thick layer of bandages. Thomas gently runs his finger over your swollen cheeks, removing wet strands from your skin.

• Finally, he gently takes your healthy palm and draws a question mark, asking why you would like to do this. You were silent. He frowns, but nods knowingly. He'll ask a little later, you need to rest. Thomas draws a small heart and kisses the inside of your palm, and then kisses each finger. He wants you to know that he really loves you and is ready to help. You're not alone.

Vincent Sinclair

• Vincent started paying more attention to your behavior. You became more distant and silent, you were constantly in your thoughts, sometimes even at moments when one of brothers was talking to you.

• Did he upset you in some way? Or maybe you feel bad because of Bo's harsh comments?

• You often locked yourself in the bathroom or in your shared bedroom while the man was working in the basement. It bothered him. It was as if you were withering right before his eyes, dissolving in his arms.

• Vincent didn't know how best to talk to you about it, after all, expressing his own thoughts is not his strong suit. But he wanted to help you. One day, when you looked particularly drooping, he returned to the bedroom a little earlier than usual, hoping to talk to you. What was his surprise when he found you with a blade in your hands. You sat on the edge of the bed, biting your lip, and left slow deep cuts on your body.

• The man quickly ran up to you, snatching the bloody object from your hands and threw it into another part of the room. His gaze trembled, wandering over your wounded flesh. Thousands of painful thoughts raced through his head as he slowly knelt down in front of you, wrapping his hands around your hands and gently stroking the back side.

• Vincent wanted to show you how much he cares about you, how much he loves you. His heart ached when he saw your tears mixed with your own blood.

• Water gushed out of your eyes when you poured out all that pain accumulated in your chest, allowing yourself to cry. Your body was shaking and hurting. Vincent put his arm around you, gently stroking your back and trying to calm your sobs.

• You have him. You don't have to deal with all the pain alone. Vincent knows how strong you are, but that doesn't mean you have to keep all the problems to yourself. He wants to help.

• The man pushed the mask off his face, exposing his lips, and slowly began to cover your face and neck with kisses, trying to take away your pain. You were his only ray of light in this pitch darkness, and he won't let you fade away. He loves you.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Can i ask dor 'don't you trust me' with Michael Myers?

Of course! Sorry these requests are taking so long, college has been kicking my ass recently but I'm gonna try and upload more regularly. The prompts the anon chose for this request are: Prompt 1: "Don't you trust me?"

For future requests the prompt list is HERE Notes: Minors DNI, SFW, No specific pronouns or description of reader are used as anon did not specify as always I hope that's ok anon! TW: Talks of canon typical violence but that's about it.

You looked on, rather unimpressed, as Michael washed off his hands and his knife in your kitchen sink. He had been doing it as long as the two of you had been together, quite frankly you never knew the infamous shape of Haddonfield had any moral compass at all when it came to cleanliness but you guess even he got to be annoyed by it after a while.

"There's blood on your mask too Mike"

He craned his neck to look up at you from the sink. He stopped scrubbing his hands momentarily and tilted his head at you ever so slightly as almost a "what?" expression. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

"You can take your mask off here Michael, ya know, to clean it?"

Michael had only ever taken his mask off long after you had went to bed despite the fact that the two of you had been together, which you always kind of assumed was an official relationship since Michael wasn't really much of a talker to confirm or deny it.

Michael gave something that resembled a half shrug sort of thing before returning to scrubbing his hands.

"Ya know, It's not like I'm going to tell anyone who you are under there"

Michael didn't look up this time, ignoring you and he finally finished washing his hands of the blood and turned to grab the hand towel you laid out for him.

"Plus I mean, we've been together for a while and I've kinda sorta never seen your face"

Michael set the towel down after he was down with it and without so much of a glance left the kitchen. He put his foot on the first stair heading upstairs before you called out after him.

"Don't you trust me?!"

Michael paused, you waited with baited breath as you stared holes into the back of the mask, the bane of the argument. He stepped back off the stairs and slowly turned around to face you.

A moment of stale air passed between the two of you before he began slowly stepping toward you as opposed to where he was going. You stood your ground as he approached, knowing that Michael wouldn't hurt you.

Michael stopped in front of you, peering down at you from inside the mask. You peered right back at him, his eyes emotionless as usual as the two of you held direct eye contact with one another.

Michael's hand came up and for a split, fleeting second you thought he might strike you before his fingers wrapped around the bottom edge of the mask. He gripped it and slowly pulled it over his head until it was entirely off of his head. You kept your eyes connected to his as he stripped himself of his poisonous identity for the first time right in front of your face.

You spared a glance to allow your eyes to scan over his face. Allowing yourself a moment to take in each feature as you took in the man that you know but at the same time had no idea who you were dealing with. Emotionless orbs watched you as you took in his features, Michael stood so still that if you couldn't feel his warm breath fan across your face you would think maybe he was frozen in time.

After taking in his features you gave a gentle smile. Again, as usual, Michael stared on emotionless, but you smiled anyway. Michael, shockingly, allowed you to take the mask gently from his hand as you took it and placed it on the kitchen counter next to you. You then took your hand into his and lead him gently up the stairs where he was originally headed before you had reached your breaking point.

Michael allowed himself to be at your will and follow you up the stairs. His mask lay there, still sitting on the counter where you had put it. Michael would probably grab it in the morning and slip it back on and it would most likely be awhile before you saw his face again.

But tonight, you were going to drink him. Enjoy him and the fleeting moment of vulnerability. To Haddonfield he was the shape, but to you well, he's just Michael.

[defectivevillain]

old habits die bleeding

pairing: Michael Myers/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors used.

summary: You’re kidnapped—and on the same night Michael Myers returns to terrorize Haddonfield. Just your luck, really.

word count: 2.7k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood & injury; kidnapping, chloroform, smoking, burns, hospitals.

You’ve celebrated Halloween in Haddonfield for more than two decades. You’ve escaped Michael Myers a few times now. And you won’t let him drive you out of your home. This Halloween is no different, you tell yourself as you finish putting up the cheap decorations in your window. Trick-or-treating isn’t much of a thing in Haddonfield anymore, but occasionally a few brave (or just foolish) kids will stop by. Your heart always skips a beat whenever you look out your window, as you think back to that night years ago. 

It was your first Halloween in Haddonfield and, while you had been warned that the night often brought terror, you assumed it to be an exaggeration. You weren’t much of a party person (and you still aren’t), so you had settled in on your couch and spent the night watching television. 

At least, that was how things were supposed to go—until you felt a large hand close around your mouth and pull you up and over the couch. You fell to the floor, only to be pinned down with a knee to the chest and a hand on your throat. A man in a mask stood over you, taking the breath from your lungs. You tried to shove him off, but he was too strong. You kicked out and eventually managed to knee him in the gut, momentarily loosening his grip and providing you with an escape. From there, it was a series of increasingly close calls, until you finally managed to race out of your house, down the street, and out of sight. 

While that was your first encounter with Michael Myers, it wouldn’t be your last. The killer would come every year; and each time, your escape felt narrower and narrower… 

That brings you to tonight: Halloween. You’re still sitting on your couch, watching television as you normally would. This time, however, you’ve kept the lights on—and have monitored the shadows cast on the walls with vigilance. 

So, when a large hand covers your mouth, you’re ready to fight back. Except… it’s not just a hand. There’s a rag pressed into your face, forcing you to breathe in whatever drug is evidently laced through the fabric. You try to shove the person’s grip off, but your vision is spinning and your limbs don’t seem to be obeying your commands. You’re stumbling on the ground, desperately trying to keep your balance while you fight off your attacker. Their grip is persistent and you’re forced to take another deep breath, inhaling the mysterious substance once more. 

This doesn’t seem like something Michael Myers would do, is the last thought that runs through your mind before your vision quickly fades to black and you crumple to the ground.

You wake up to find yourself in a musty room with crumbling wallpaper. Your hands are tied behind your back and your legs are tied to the wooden chair you’re situated on. Your head is pounding and your ears are ringing as you try to get a better idea of your surroundings. Ultimately, there’s little else in the room save for you. You don’t see anything sharp that you could use to cut yourself free from the ropes binding you. 

You’re alone, by some miracle. Your head keeps dropping as you nod off, fighting off slumber. You can’t sleep here, no matter how much you may want to rest. You have to get out of here. You’re not sure what your kidnapper wants with you, and you don’t desire to find out. You grit your teeth and try to maneuver yourself so that you can reach the pocket of your pants. Smoking has been a bad habit of yours—one that you’ve been meaning to kick—but you’re extremely thankful you didn’t get around to it, since it prompted you to place a lighter in your back pocket. You manage to maneuver so that you’re holding the lighter in your bound hands. You flip it around with your pinky finger and manage to light it. 

Unfortunately, your escape method isn’t entirely painless—which you soon realize the hard way. You’re trying to burn the ropes, but you’re dealing some damage to the skin of your hands in the process. By the time you’ve successfully frayed the rope and pulled it off, your skin is rubbed raw and irritated from the lighter. 

Thankfully, now that your hands are free, you can simply untie the ropes around your ankles. Your hands are slightly shaking as you free your legs, but you still manage to set yourself free within a few moments. Immediately, you quietly step towards the doorway, pressing an ear up against the inside wall to listen for your captor. After several seconds pass in silence, you decide to risk it and step out of the room.

From there, you find yourself in a dark hallway—maybe a basement, of sorts? Your thoughts are confirmed when your eyes catch on a staircase in the corner. You slowly walk over towards the stairs, as quietly as you can muster. 

When you get to the top of the stairs, you’re foolishly deluded into thinking that you’ll get out of this unscathed. Then you take another step and a loud creak echoes throughout the space. Abandoning any hope for silence, you sprint towards the front door—surprised to find that you seem to be in a house of some sort. Your hands are fumbling for the first lock on the door—there are two—but just before you can slide it to the side, there’s a hand on your collar yanking you back into a hard chest. There’s a knife pressed to your throat and an unfamiliar voice in your ear. Instinctively, you pull at your captor’s arm in an attempt to create some distance between the knife and your throat. The knife is only pulled towards your throat tighter, until it’s drawing blood from your skin and a pained whimper from your lips. Just as the blade draws ever closer, you bring your knee up and slam your foot back into your captor—connecting with their ankle and successfully making them stumble long enough for you to twist out of their grip and run back towards the door. This time, you manage to slide the lock open, but there’s still the second lock lower on the door. You hear them get up and instinctively move to the right, just barely dodging their strike and sending them careening forward into the door. 

From there, you reach out and slam their head into the door again, before turning around and bolting towards the other side of the house—hoping there’s a door to the backyard. You hear the telltale shink of the knife getting pulled from the door and your heart drops to your stomach as you frantically look through an entirely unfamiliar house. You run through the kitchen, before doubling back to grab a sharp knife from the knife block. Your eyes then catch on a wooden door past the kitchen and you race over to it, flipping the lock and pushing it forward. But the door doesn’t open, no matter how hard you yank at it and beg for it to open. Suddenly you’re tugged back and slammed into the locked door. Your knife falls from your grasp. Blinking stars out of your eyes, you try to push your assailant away—but their grip is too strong and suddenly they’re jamming their knife into your abdomen before brutally ripping the weapon back out. You choke on a breath and slump forward, as blood drips down your chest and begins to splatter along the floor. You fall to your knees and slap a hand onto the wound, wheezing and fighting for breath. Your hands fall to the floor and your right hand falls right next to the knife you dropped. Through the blinding pain, you manage to subtly grab the knife and jam it into your captor’s crotch. They scream and you aim a bit higher, sinking it into their abdomen and shoving them away from you as they fall to the ground. You manage to push yourself into your feet and press a hand to the nearby wall to stabilize yourself as you look down at their body. They’re definitely unconscious, at the very least. That should give you enough time to make it outside and call for help. You stumble back through the house and towards the front door, unlocking the second lock and shoving it open. 

As you awkwardly shuffle across the front porch, you’re hit with a striking realization: you’re still on your street. In fact, you’re only a few houses down from your own house. The thought provokes a nearly infinite amount of dread within you, as you try to come to terms with the fact that there is yet another killer in Haddonfield. Eventually, you have to push the thought aside and focus on getting back home. You’re hobbling on uneven footing, your hand pressed against your side like a vice. Your breathing is ragged and loud in your ears; your entire chest is on fire. 

But the universe is smiling down on you—because you manage to make it back home. Your front door is unlocked and you’re quick to stumble inside, clumsily locking it behind you before moving towards your living room. Within a few steps, your knees crumple beneath you and you’re forced to crawl towards the sofa. What follows is an excruciating effort consisting of you pulling yourself up on the sofa and collapsing onto it with a pained hiss. Your vision hasn’t stopped spinning since you first entered your house. Worst of all, you can’t stop thinking about the possibility of the killer coming back for you—it’s very likely that you only incapacitated him. Despite your best efforts to remain awake and attempt to move, your vision is quickly giving way to an overwhelming, suffocating darkness.

You wake a few hours later to a knife pressed against your throat and a dark silhouette looming over you. You instinctively want to push yourself up to a sitting position, but the blade is pressed into your skin hard enough to draw blood and you’re forced to abandon the effort. It’s then that your vision clears to reveal just who is standing over you and, despite the sheer terror running through your veins, a laugh wrenches its way from your lips. 

“Michael,” you say, greeting the killer who has made a habit of visiting you every Halloween. This year is no different, it seems. He presses the knife against your throat pointedly, as if waiting for you to push it away. You can barely manage a pathetic attempt at shoving the blade away and you eventually settle for staring at him. 

(Michael stares back at you. There’s blood splattered across your hand, he realizes, and the skin is raw from what he can only assume to be burns. Not to mention, there’s a seemingly unending crimson stain marring your shirt. Something unfamiliar churns in his stomach, combined with that ever familiar rage that boils his blood.) 

You watch as Michael tilts his head to the side, before removing the blade from your neck. You blink at him in disbelief, and stare as he lifts his hand to tap his wrist impatiently. You’re late, he motions. 

For a moment, all you can do is stare in confusion. Then you realize he must be referring to this unfortunate tradition between the two of you: the cat-and-mouse chase that ensues every Halloween night, without fail. “...I was kind of preoccupied,” you mutter, motioning down to the wound on your abdomen that hasn’t stopped burning and stinging since you woke. 

Michael follows your gesture and stares down at the wound for longer than you’re comfortable with. Before you can ask him what the hell he’s doing, Michael places a hand on your wound and pushes. You can’t stop the pained outburst that leaves your lips, especially when he twists his hand and digs his knuckles into the tissue. Your vision is swirling again and you desperately try to push him away, but he’s too strong. Just when you’re on the brink of passing out, Michael releases his grip and leans back. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, as your vision slowly recovers. The pain is even worse now. You’re shivering and shaking, your teeth chattering and sending reverberations through your ears and into your very skull. 

Perhaps worst of all, you think you might understand what Michael was trying to say just now. If you die, it will be by my hand—and no one else’s. He’s prideful in that regard. He doesn’t need to capitalize on someone else’s work, or take advantage of your already wounded state. A shiver rolls down your spine as you come to the conclusion that he enjoys the chase—enjoys the hunt. 

Michael is still staring down at you. You almost wish he wasn’t wearing his mask, so that you could read his expression. Still, there’s an aura of annoyance and irritation emanating from his form—and it’s only further exacerbated by the tight draw of his shoulders and the way he stares at you impatiently. 

“Ruined your night, huh?” You ask wearily. Honestly, you’re not sure where you’re getting this sudden surge of confidence—you think it must be the adrenaline. Surely, if you live to see tomorrow, you’ll wake up feeling immense regret. 

Michael is infuriatingly silent, as always. You didn’t expect him to respond, though. You’ve managed one-sided conversations with him before—even under much more desperate circumstances. This one is no different, save for the excruciating pain that binds you to your sofa and forces the most blunt and honest of words to leave your lips. 

“Same time next year?” You choke out sarcastically. You swear you see the mask contort, as if Michael’s brows are furrowing, but you dismiss it as a figment of your imagination. 

You’re not deluded enough to feel safe right now—with a killer towering over you—but exhaustion tugs at your core as your adrenaline quickly crashes. Your eyelids are stinging as you fight off sleep. Michael’s looming over you and you’re sure you’ve never been in a more unsafe situation—wounded and defenseless in front of him. But your fatigue doesn’t care, and your eyes are slipping shut within moments. 

For a while, there is nothing but darkness. Then, your eyelids twitch as a blade is traced along your cheekbone, dipping under your chin and nicking the skin underneath. You flinch and try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are sealed shut and you’re forced to remain entirely compliant and complacent. Your heart is thudding quietly in your chest. 

Thankfully, Michael must lose interest, because that’s the last sensation you register before falling into a deep and unburdened sleep. 

To your surprise, you don’t wake up in a giant pool of your own blood and a ruined sofa. Instead, you wake to bright fluorescent walls and unassuming white walls. Someone must’ve taken you to the hospital. Within a few minutes of your awakening, a nurse arrives and fills you in—apparently, one of your neighbors had called the police after seeing your front door ajar and finding you passed out on the couch with a bleeding wound. You take a deep breath and try to relax, but all you can think about is Michael. 

Why the hell didn’t he kill you? He had ample opportunity. Even if he is prideful, like you were first thinking, wouldn’t his bloodlust outweigh any egotism? You were entirely vulnerable in front of him—he could have flayed you alive and you wouldn’t have been able to resist or struggle. It would’ve been over in a split second. Michael could’ve been in and out of your home within a few minutes. 

You take a deep breath and try to clear your thoughts of the killer. The effort is, understandably, a lot more difficult than you think it will be—especially when you turn on the small television in your room to find a murder being broadcast on the news. The victim, you soon learn, was the same person who kidnapped you. You’re immediately torn between guilt, fear, and a shameful gratitude. They will never bother you again. 

As for Michael Myers, however… Let’s just say you’re already thinking about how to survive Halloween next year.

thanks for reading! <3

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[weasleycream]

. ୭.ᰍㅤ𝅄 ֹ " 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐎𝐏 " 🔪 Ⳋ

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 ; 𝑅𝒵!𝑀ichael 𝑀iyers 𝓍 𝐹em!𝑅eader

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤ𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ; Use of bad words, mentions of blood, childhood love, quite cloying, Michael Myers is sweet, bad grammar in English.

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ; 4k+

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ𝗨𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤAnother little whim, I really love RZ Michael, since I saw him as a child and as an adult I fell in love 🤒❤️‍🩹

Her family had moved to Haddonfield, Illinois a little less than two weeks ago for work reasons, for a girl who was barely nine years old she understood it quite well, she even liked the change of environment, without a doubt for the little girl that little one The town was beautiful and quiet, he was really happy to have found a peaceful place where he would be happy with his parents.

"Y/N, Honey! Come down now, dinner's ready!" called her mother from downstairs, breaking her out of her little bubble of imagination. She opened the door to her room and hurried down the stairs, instantly smelling the pleasant aroma of freshly prepared food, knowing immediately that her mother had prepared her favorite dish, a delicious Bolognese pasta with cheese and toasted bread.

"I'm here, mommy!" She said arriving in the kitchen to sit in the small dining room for four people, seeing how her father was there calmly reading a newspaper, which he then put down when the little girl arrived.

He hummed a little with a mischievous smile on his face before he began to speak, drawing the attention of his curious daughter "Y/N Daughter, we already found school, starting tomorrow you will start your classes again, aren't you happy?" she announced and asked her daughter waiting for an answer "It's the school we saw a few blocks from here, I'll be able to take you every day before I go to work"

The little girl just smiled a huge smile to jump happily, going to hug her father. "Yes, dad! I'm very happy, I'll be able to make new friends!" She was excited, above all because now they won't have to look for a teenage babysitter who only concentrates watching pretty boys and pull her by the hand to take her to school, she loved the fact that her father was now going to take her.

After that, dinner went quite normally while they told the little girl what her school was like and that she was going to have a great time, earning a smile from her, who was surely not going to be able to sleep from excitement that night, thinking about what the other children in their school and classroom were going to be like. As soon as he finished, he left his plate in the sink and thanked for the food, went up to his room to brush his teeth in the small bathroom he had there, he changed and put on his animal pajamas, went to the window to close it. and close the blinds, but before doing so, he could see a blonde boy with hair down to his shoulders peek out. They made eye contact, and the girl shyly waved with her hand and a small smile, receiving a somewhat surprised and confused look and then shyly returning the wave with her hand, and closed the curtain, leaving the girl looking out, thinking that she could speak another day with the neighbors child.

It was already daylight, opened her eyes with extreme happiness, getting out of bed as soon as she heard her mother knock on the door to get her up and help her get ready for her new school.

Minutes passed and her mother was already combing her hair, she let her put on that cute pair of baggy jean shorts that reached her knee with the favorite band t-shirt, his mother combed his hair in medium hair ponytail the top layers of her hair leaving the lower ones loose along with her adorable bangs, then she went down excitedly wanting to see how her mother was preparing her snack for the afternoon in her new lunch box, a delicious sandwich with avocado and mayonnaise (and obviously cheese with ham) was now inside the little pastel blue box along with fresh cut strawberry pieces and a carton of chocolate milk. She packed everything into her small shoulder backpack along with her notebook and pencil, closing it to wait for her father to finish breakfast, since she had stuffed everything into her as if she had never eaten out of excitement, wanting to leave now to her new school.

He waited patiently until he saw how his father finally finished. "Hurry up dad, we're too late!" The little girl rushed, jumping desperately. 'God, Y/N, we're going forty minutes early, wait a little,' he replied, going back up to brush his teeth and get what was missing in his work briefcase, making the little girl get desperate and start to go around the whole anxious room.

When she got back down, she said goodbye to her wife with a small kiss and hug around the shoulders. The girl copied her action and hugged her mother's legs and hips and said goodbye to her with a big hug. happy smile, receiving the same from her mother. When they finally left, she ran away absentmindedly, without noticing that a boy blonde with chubby cheeks was passing by, colliding and both of them falling to the ground with a crash. 'That makes you restless! Apologize to him now, honey,' her father shouted, closing the door from the porch.

"Uhm… Sorry, I was distracted, let me help you." He apologized immediately without taking into account his now scraped and somewhat bleeding knee, he got up quickly and held out his hand, waiting for the blonde boy he had seen the night before to take it. .

The boy looked at her doubtfully for a few moments and took the girl's hand, standing up from the ground and quickly picking up the small knife that came out of her pocket, hoping that the girl or the adult who was approaching them don't had noticed it. .

"Excuse my daughter, boy, she is quite excited to enter her new school, although I believe do you study there, would you like to join us?" She finally said as she reached the children's side, inviting the boy to come with them.

Distrustful, the boy gently shook his head with a bored look, beginning to walk, leaving the other two behind, until the little girl came forward and walked next to him.

"I'm Y/N, what's your name?" She asked as soon as he got to her side and held the strap of her backpack nervously.

"Michael" He responded without faltering, paying'nt attention to the girl next to him, hoping that she would not be noisy, unfortunately, the little girl did not stop talking to him all the way to school, receiving dry and annoyed responses from the blonde [ she will will move away like the others] he thought immediately after reaching the corner next to the institute.

They arrived and the blonde boy simply entered the building quickly without speaking to the little girl or saying goodbye to the adult. The little girl just looked at him until he disappeared through the main door of the building, waiting for her father to speak and say goodbye to her, wishing her a good day.

"Well honey, I hope you have a good time here, and remember, anything ugly or bad they say to you, tell me or your mother, I love you, don't forget it." He said goodbye to her little daughter with a kiss on the forehead and a light hug, to get away from her a little, waiting for her to come in so he could leave without worries. The pretty girl walked timidly into her new school, looking for her address.

After the hallways suddenly emptied, indicating that classes had already started, the more nervously she began to search more quickly for the principal's office, finding it on the third floor where all the high school students were. She knocked on the door and waited patiently, until apparently a somewhat disheveled teacher opened it, looked down, and saw her.

"Do you need anything, honey?" She asked him with a certain false kindness, sketching a false smile that the innocent little girl did not notice, timidly playing with her fingers.

"Well… I'm new and I was looking for the principal's office to find out my classroom and schedule… Can you help me?" She said nervously, looking into her eyes as she finished speaking.

The older woman made a face, simulating a kind smile, "Sure, honey, wait a moment." He took her shoulder and made her go to a kind of 'waiting room' and left her sitting, while she saw the principal's office in front of her, where the teacher entered. A few long minutes passed and the woman finally came out with some papers in her hand and a look of annoyance on her face. "Come on, girl, I don't have all day," she urged, now in a less fake voice.

They walked through the hallways and down the stairs to the first floor again where they headed to a classroom a little away from the main exit. When they arrived, the teacher simply knocked on the door and entered, and spoke to the other woman inside, who looked at the door and gave her a warm smile, which made her nervous and she looked down at her feet.

Another tedious minute passed, the woman accompanying her came out with the papers already filled out "Here is your schedule and the list of materials you need, if you have any concerns tell your teacher" and with that she left, leaving him. she there at the door, until the woman called out to her when she opened the door.

"Okay kids, quiet!" She asked, raising her voice a little, drawing the attention of the children, who were speechless when they saw her. "This is Y/N, she will be your new partner from now on, I want their to treat her well and help her advance in her grades. Well Y/N, sit in the window seat, I will explain a bit what we were doing." He went to the assigned seat and sat down, leaving his suitcase on the small hook that was on the side of the table, and paying attention to what the teacher was saying with a nervous and shy look, feeling a small blush. on his face in the face of shyness.

They spent two hours where they saw some Language and the other where they saw Social Sciences, she took notes of what the teacher explained on the blackboard, and when she announced recess time, she didn't know what to do and stayed sitting looking the window, where you could see a road with one or another vehicle passing by. She was scared when a small group of girls and boys suddenly arrived at her seat, where they began to talk to her about trivial things, but that could not prevent her from seeing that he neighbor, the one she had bumped into hours before, was there, I hadn't noticed it when it arrived. She excitedly stood up from her seat, taking her snack without eat it, and walked to the side of the blonde boy who seemed somewhat displeased at not being alone in the classroom at recess that day.

"Michael! I didn't know you were in the same class! How exciting! Don't you think so?" She greeted the little girl, pulling a chair next to the child, sitting down, she saw that the taller child had nothing to eat and was only coloring with some crayons and colored pencils on a somewhat crumpled sheet of paper.

"Ah, I should have guessed, what a thrill" He mentioned without any interest or joy in his voice "What do you want?" she asked in a hostile manner, not looking at the girl next to her, as she continued coloring meaningless doodles on the page.

"Nothing! I just saw you and wanted to talk to you, it would be more entertaining than talking to the kids who came to my table out of nowhere, I also saw that you didn't have anything to eat, aren't you hungry? Can I share my snack with you!" offered, placing the blue lunch box on the little free space on Michael's table, opening it to reveal what her mother had packed for her.

The group of children who initially approached the little girl who had walked away from them now looked at them with great confusion. As soon as they spoke to her, they told her not to go near the strange boy of the classroom, but as soon as she saw him in the classroom completely alone, she went after him, they looked at each other very strangely and left, giving the innocent girl a confused and annoyed look.

"Don't bother" The blonde boy responded, still without turning around, remaining in great silence.

"Well, it doesn't matter, I'm still going to leave you food, even if it's half, it's bad that you're still hungry, Mikey!" The little girl answered, taking the Sandwich and biting it until she ate half, leaving the other remaining piece in the lunch box again, and then taking the strawberries and doing the same, also with the chocolate milk. All in view of the boy's surprised look at the girl's nickname and actions, he thought that she was going to leave after all, but she was still there, and her was really going to feed him.

Recess passed, and after making sure that Michael had really eaten what she left him, she returned to her seat with a smile, even though Michael was very quiet and dry when it came to talking, she did not stop talking to him, and she really enjoyed it, because she knew that despite that, Michael had listened to her at all times.

Then, hours passed until school finally ended, she turned to Michael again with a big smile.

"Michael! Do you want to go back to my father and me? Like this morning!" She offered excitedly, waiting for his response, she jumped off of happily when he gave her a vague nod quickly putting things away, afraid she would see the polaroids scattered all over he backpack.

So days passed, which turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months, and so on until finally he had lived in Haddonfield for a year and a half. I was on mid-year vacation with Michael, they had three weeks off and I was really enjoying it, today I was going with Michael to the stream that was a few streets near his house, where I was going to give Michael a surprise, I knew that they would both They had become really close, even Michael was possessive of her when she talked to other people and she got sad when she thought that Michael was going to leave her aside when they had different people in their school work.

He happily jumped out of his bed as soon as he woke up and headed downstairs where his mother was making breakfast while his father was getting ready for work.

"Mommy, mommy! Did you make them? Tell me yes, please!" She ran excitedly towards her mother, hugging her waist while he looked at her expectantly, waiting for an affirmative response.

She laughed at her daughter's haste, turning her head slightly to look at her. "Yes, I made the cookies that Michael likes so much, just like you asked me, sweetheart," her mother agreed, receiving a big smile from her daughter, who jumped up while still hugging her.

"And, did you also receive the Ring Pop i ordered?" She asked again this time with more insistence, because it was the most important thing she was going to give to her dear friend.

"Of course, honey, don't worry," she responded affirmatively again, making her daughter jump with excitement again, this time releasing her and running through the kitchen, making her laugh with amusement, "but don't hurry, first you're going to get ready and have breakfast, otherwise "You're not going out," she said when she saw that her little girl started looking for the cookies and candy all over the kitchen.

She snorted a little dissatisfied now, but she hurried, going up the stairs again, while her father went down them, surprising him with the hurry with which he was going, he arrived at his room again, and began to choose the clothes he would, she found a Michael's t-shirt, one that he had lent him one day when he went to his house for a sleepover, since his annoying sister had intentionally spilled all her juice on his t-shirt, Michael kindly lent him one of his t-shirts (without mentioning that it was his favorite in that moment) from the band Kiss, one of the many he had. She knew he had to return it, but he wanted to wear it that day, he took it along with an equally black Bermuda shorts and some slightly worn black converse. She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, then took a quick shower, changed and quickly went down to the dining room where her mother had already served breakfast to her and her father, she sat down and began to eat quickly.

"Darling, don't eat so fast, Michael isn't going anywhere" Her father scolded, seeing how his daughter was almost choking on the food for swallowing so quickly, his wife handed a glass of water to his daughter so she could the food will pass easily.

"Leave her, she is happy because she has almost reached two years of friendship with Michael and she wants to give him something" Her mother relieved, letting her daughter be, ignoring her father's scolding, as she continued to eat faster.

She let out a sigh and smiled "Well, I'll let it go just because I'm happy that she got someone special" she didn't understand why her father said that, although Michael was special, very special to her, she saw him as her best friend and other half, and not as someone to classify as 'someone special' in your family.

She finished breakfast and thanked, leaving the plate in the sink, she quickly brushed her teeth again and then said goodbye to her parents, before her father left, she ran to the house next door, where Michael lived, she He stood on tiptoe and reached for the bell, ringing it three times. He waited a few minutes, listening to the usual screams inside the house due to the multiple fights that Deborah, Michael's mother, had with her idiot boyfriend, he heard steps approaching the door and heard how the man of the house screamed. 'Michael, you're not as much of a sissy as I thought after all!' She clearly got upset, she hated how that old man treated he dear friend, but she couldn't do anything.

The door opened and she watched as Michael opened the door with his plump lips pursed adorably, who upon seeing her, with a small smile, softening his gaze, hugged her and greeted her.

"Y/N! I thought you would come a little later, I hope you didn't rush to eat for you came quickly" guessed her dear blonde friend, stepping aside for her to pass "Sorry for the mess, wait for me at the living room, I'm going to bring something and I'll come back to lower,” he invited her while he accompanied her to the living room, leaving her sitting.

She waited until she listen choose how Michael went down the stairs and said to her mother: 'mom! I'll go out with Y/N ​​for a while and I'll be back in the afternoon!' and with that, she took her hand and they left, before hearing her sister's constant complaints.

They walked for a while while talking about anything that came to mind until they reached the small stream where they looked for a tree with good shade to sit. When they found one, the little girl who is now 10 years old, she spoke up.

"You did bring your Ring pop, right?" She asked as took out his, it was of strawberry and the plastic of the ring was an electric blue color, and then looked at his friend, waiting for an answer.

"Ah… Yes, of course, I hope you like the cherry one, I didn't find any other flavor," he mentioned, taking the candy out of his pocket in the same way, revealing a ring of the same brand, but with colored plastic somewhat bright yellow.

"Don't worry, Mikey! You know I love cherry" Of course he knew it, but he wasn't going to reveal the fact that he only really found apple or orange candy, it took him a long time to find a one of cherry one since it was the best seller, but he would search everywhere just to find something she wanted or liked. He couldn't hide the blush on her pale cheeks at that thought.

"Well, then why did you want me to bring one?" She asked after trying to control the slight blush, and waited, watching as the girl's cheeks also turned red from her nerves, giving her an adorable sight, she tried to stop herself from cracking a smile.

"Well… You know that in a few months we will celebrate two years of friendship… And well, I appreciate you very much, and I wanted to give you something to celebrate… Here, I asked my mother to make this for you" he said, handing him the box decorated with twisted hearts and glitter. Since he came home, Michael was curious about the small decorated box, but he didn't mention anything.

He took it in his somewhat chubby hands, and opened it, he saw several homemade cookies with chocolate chips and lemon, his favorites, he also saw several packages with gummy bears and small chocolates and bonbons, next to them, a letter on a page of notebook. , folded like an envelope and sealed with a children's notebook sticker.

"Read the letter when you need it, I made it for when I can't be there for you and you miss me" The boy nodded and put the letter in the box and closed it again, leaving it aside.

"Thank you very much Y/N… I really love you very much…" He said moved as he hugged her tightly, she was very special to him and sometimes he thought that she was too much for him, but still, he needed her among so many problems .

"I love you too Mikey.." she responded, returning her hug, giving him a small kiss on her cheek, and then separating from him. "Now open your Ring Pop, let's make a promise for when we're older and twenty-one," she said, and took the strawberry candy and opened it, taking it gently without putting it on, making Michael repeat his action.

Then, she spoke again, looking him straight in the eyes with great affection "I, Y/N L/N, solemnly promise that I will be with you throughout my life, that we will be best friends and that we will be there at all times, in good times, in bad times, and be best friends forever, and forever" he said, as he took his friend's free hand, and put on the strawberry ring, intertwining their fingers, leaving each one a free hand. "Now you, Michael."

The boy, who was stunned by the girl's gaze, could not pay attention to the words she said, much less after she intertwined her hands in that cute way "I uh… I, Michael Myers… Ehm, I promise to always be with you at all times, and to be the best of friends forever, and ever" he imitated distractedly while doing the same, and intertwined the other hand, leaving them both in a nice moment.

"Well… I heard that when two people love each other, and want to be together for a lifetime, they get married when they are older, and seal their promises with a kiss, then, when we are twenty-one, you promise me that you will marry me." ?" she asked innocently, getting closer to him, staying a short distance away, making a blush begin to adorn both of their faces.

"I promise you Y/N, I promise you that when we grow up, I will make you happy and I will be with you at all times" And so, he shortened the short distance and brushed his lips with hers, in an innocent kiss, which was soon inexperienced, sealing his great promise, which would continue throughout his life.

★ WAAAHHHH I LOVED THIS WITH MY LIFE, I'm seriously thinking about making a fic of this (really, I'm strongly considering it, maybe I will).

★ Credits to the fanart, textual aesthetics and dividers to the corresponding people!

[soapyghostie]

Heyy, can I request Michael Myers (og) where both reader and Michael attended Smiths Grove while they were children? Reader was admitted because of their deteriorating mental health and not good thoughts, but reader managed to befriend Michael and had a good relationship there. But then the reader was forced to leave once they thought they were good to go and unfortunately wasn’t allowed to visit Michael. Fast forward years later, Michael and reader are living together after he broke out of Smiths Grove and are in a romantic relationship and somehow the conversation leads to reader absentmindedly saying something like, “I never had a reason to live before, that is until I met you” before moving onto something else. I don’t know, I though that is really cute

I don’t know how long this ask has been sitting in my inbox, but it’s been sitting in there for a long time. This ask was such a hassle because I couldn’t get any ideas to come into my head and I kept rewriting it over and over again. However, I finally came up with a final product that I actually liked. Hope you enjoy!

Michael Myers

During your time at Smiths Grove, you made an unexpected friend: Michael Myers. It took time and effort to get him to open up around you since he’s very reserved, but eventually you two became inseparable. It confused Dr. Loomis because he always understood Michael as a monster who’s incapable of feeling for others. Yet, here we are. 

You’d often seek him out in moments of distress. You shared your darkest thoughts knowing he wouldn’t judge. His calm presence always gave you a sense of peace. 

You and Michael developed your own form of communication (since Michael unwillingly talks to anyone). You’d give him a lot of notebooks so he could communicate with you by writing. You always ended up having trouble reading his handwriting because it was sloppy and unneat. Therefore, you convinced one of the nurses to get you a sign language book so the two of you could learn to communicate better. It definitely was more effective and efficient than the notebook. 

When you were deemed ‘cured’ and forced to leave, you fought desperately to stay knowing Michael would be all alone. The abrupt separation left a gaping hole in both of your lives, with you constantly wondering about Michael’s fate. Your departure was marked by one final hug with you promising to come visit him. However, they never let you and you never forgot about Michael. 

Years later, when Michael escaped Smiths Grove, his first quest was to find you. It didn’t take him long since Haddonfield is a small town. He saw you walking home as he was driving down one of the neighborhoods. You noticed the slow moving car driving slightly behind you which made you nervous causing you to walk faster. However, Michael kept following you until you reached your house, making a mental note of the location as he watched you go inside while he kept driving. 

A couple days later, he broke into your house unknowingly to you and waited until you noticed his presence. When you first saw him, you were horrified. You screamed when you saw the masked man and scrambled to phone the police. He caught you before you could reach it and held you in his iron grasp until you stopped screaming and flaring around. Once you calmed down, he took his mask off for you to see his face, leaving you in shock to see your long lost friend after so many years.  

Despite the years apart, your bond instantly rekindled, stronger than ever. You welcomed Michael into your home and the rest is history.

You sheltered Michael and helped him adjust to life outside Smiths Grove, teaching him how to navigate the world while keeping a low profile. You also would gently coax him into moments of normalcy, like watching the sunset or reading to him. In return, Michael would fix things around the house, learn to cook simple meals, and ensure that you felt safe.

One evening, as you two sat together on your porch hammock watching the sunset, you absentmindedly confessed, “I never had a reason to live before, that is until I met you.” Michael’s normal stone cold demeanor softened, giving you a light smile. Though he doesn’t respond verbally, he reaches for your hand and holds it, giving it a squeeze. 

Michael’s love for you manifests into a fierce protectiveness. He often lingers close by wherever you are to ensure your safety. You feel safe in Michael’s presence knowing that he’d go great lengths to protect you, creating a sanctuary of love and trust in y’all’s shared home. 

[rabbitblackx]

Heyy authorr!

Can u please do some slasher their reaction when the s/o give them a new weapon :)

i just want Michael and Jason in it. the rest can u choose.

Reader gives Michael and Jason new weapons

Michael Myers💖

One day while Michael came over to visit, you presented him with a gift. With a big smile, you held out a large, sharp kitchen knife for him. A big red bow was tied around the lacquered, wooden handle of the blade. Michael tilted his head to the side, observing the present for him laying in your palms

“I saw it at one of those fancy kitchen stores today!” You explained. Michael remained silent as he took his black eyes off the knife and to your excited features. “It’s so nice and shiny—and sharp! It was too good to pass up. I thought you might like it.”

Michael slowly reached his hand up to take the knife from you. He inspected it curiously in his grasp, staring at his masked reflection in the silver blade

Michael wasn’t very good at expressing gratitude as he rarely ever felt it, if at all. Several days passed and he had already used your present a numerous amount of times. The blade was still razor sharp but not as shiny, as blood was smeared all over

Michael walked home through the quiet streets of downtown Haddonfield. He passed some closed stores, with knickknacks and whatnots displayed in the front windows

Something caught his eye from behind the glass of a gift shop. He halted to a stop, peering through the window. A plush teddy bear smiled back at him in the dark. A big red bow was tied around its neck, much like the one you put on Michael’s knife

You stayed up waiting for Michael to return home. You sprung off your bed and to your feet when you heard the front door creak open. You skipped over to the door, beaming at Michael through the dim lighting

“Hi, Michael.” You cooed

The floor whined under his boots as he approached you. He was hiding something behind his back. Just as you were about to ask what it was, your eyes suddenly lit up with joy

Michael revealed the teddy bear to you, holding it out for you to take. You immediately snatched it from him and hugged it close to your chest

“Oh, Michael!” You cried

You threw your arms around the killer, snuggling into his own chest with the bear sandwiched between you two. As much as Michael enjoyed the knife you gave him, it was safe to say that your reaction to your own gift was far better

Jason Voorhees💖

Today was Jason’s birthday! He popped into your cabin unannounced, nearly scaring the bejesus out of you when you entered the living room to find him standing there

“Happy birthday, Jason!” You exclaimed. Jason stood like a statue in the middle of the room. “Ooh, stay there! I got you something.” You said before ducking into the kitchen for a spell

You didn’t need to worry about Jason moving. As you returned to the room holding a cake box and gift, he hadn’t moved an inch. He finally broke that though when his head tilted to the side at the sight of the goodies in your hands

You set the present on the couch, and instead opened the cake box. You revealed a round cake to him that read, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JASON in green frosting

“It’s just for you! I hope you like it.” You crooned

Jason didn’t know how to react as you closed the box and set it on the couch too. But then you snatched the present up and giddily handed it to him

“Open it! Open it! Open it!” You squealed while jumping excitedly on the spot

Jason hesitated before tearing the wrapping paper away from the long object. His dead heart dropped at the sight of a silver machete that was beautifully engraved with roses and cursive patterns

“Do ya like it?” You asked

Jason whipped his head up from the machete to gaze upon you. He couldn’t believe you did this for him. It was so beautiful

“Happy birthday, Jason.” You said again softly

It was awkward, but Jason shuffled over to you. The machete dropped to the floor as he carefully wrapped his strong arms around your frame. He wasn’t used to hugging you like this, but didn’t know how else to thank you. It wasn’t like he could talk or anything

“This is nice.” You murmured contently against him

Jason didn’t respond, nor did he budge to break away from you. After a few lovingly long seconds, you slipped yourself away with a gentle grin on your face

“So,” you started. “How about some of your cake?”

[smallbutters]

Sickly Bodies - Michael Myers x Reader

Content Warnings - Stalking , mentions of suicide, murder (duh), uuuh michael myers is a warning alone lol

Notes - Minors DNI PLEASE, fluff but also murder, SFW, no specific pronouns or gendered terms used :))

Eyes of the devil.

Black, soulless voids behind them, devoid of all humanity.

Ever since he was transferred to the Sanitarium, Michael has been referred to and treated as a being of pure evil - a blight upon this world. How would Dr. Loomis react now, to the situation Michael finds himself in?

A body lies in his house, in his bed, and for once it hasn’t gone cold, the heat of life still flowing through it.

You.

Sick as all hell, writhing in pain as whatever illness you have beats you into a pained, sluggish version of your normal self.

Michael stands aside the bed, making no movement.

He watches you, for a while - rolling back and forth occasionally, groaning in pain all the while.

When you finally become aware enough to notice that you aren't alone, you look up to his mask and give a meek smile. Michael isn't a comforting person, he never learned how to be or even received any himself, but something in you knows that this is his attempt at it.

"You don't have to stand here, you know."

You get no response.

A few seconds of silence pass as you close your eyes, letting out a slow, shallow breath.

"This will pass, it might take a bit longer since you don't have any medicine in the cabinets, but I'll be just fine soon enough..." You trail off.

You are once again met with silence.

It doesn't take too long for you to succumb to the exhaustion and fall asleep, your body being completely drained from fighting off this virus. You don't know how long Michael stayed there, or if he even was there after you finished talking - for such a big body, he's incredibly quiet.

Unbeknownst to you, he stayed, unmoving, for a good half an hour after you drifted off.

He was planning on going out tonight - a frat house down the street has been too rowdy lately, and losing a few members would likely get them to quiet down (you had been bothered by the noise lately, but that isn’t why he’s going for them) But leaving you here alone, sick and in pain seemed to hurt his cold heart.

Why?

If you posed an obstacle for him and his goals, he really should just kill you. You two have been together for a few months now, in a sort of problem-and-problem-enabler type situation - you provided him a place to stay at your half-used apartment, food, and company (an attempt at it, at least), and Michael provided with a sense of safety as your behind-the-scenes guard dog, and an odd sense of pride knowing you’ve, to an extent, tamed the beast terrorizing Haddonfield.

Michael isn’t stupid, not in a general sense. While he had been in a mental institution for the past fifteen-odd years, he's killed dozens of people by now and never got even remotely close to being caught. He’s just a little socially confused. He’s been treated like the devil itself for the past 15 years of his life, so your kindness, let alone your peaceful coexistence with him is somewhat lost to him. Even the night you met had been something he’d never thought he’d let happen.

You had been taking pictures of the old Myers house a few months back, just after sunset. There was enough light for you to see, but with every photo you took that was getting more and more difficult. You had walked here by yourself, which you quickly began to regret - you could hear quiet(ish) shuffling coming from the side of the house, and it definitely wasn’t getting further away. You obviously knew of Michael, everyone did - but August was much earlier than he’d ever returned, and you knew some local teens had taken up pretending to be him just to get a scare out of people. At first you thought you’d just get a little spooked and laughed at, then be able to head home safely, but apparently impersonating a killer doesn’t sit well with said killer. 

The two impostors were killed with ease and a lack of ceremony, and you were quickly thrown into the house. You thought the last thing you’d ever see would be that infamous pale white mask looking into your eyes, but it wasn’t. You saw the eyes behind it - the man, the human. In complete honesty, neither of you knew why what happened next turned out the way it did. One moment you were pinned against the wall by the real Michael, the blood from the two imposters staining both your clothes. Then all he did was let out a loud huff before stalking away. The man who never left someone alive let you, of all people, live.

In the coming months you began to spot him near your apartment and - seemingly - following you around town. You were smart enough not to tell anyone, as you knew he’d disappear before anyone else could spot him and you’d wake up to a pool of your own blood and live out your last moments from a betrayal-fueled, merciless kill. From then on you had learned to interpret his non-verbality, which lead to an eventual fucked-up kind of kinship. You never tried to get him to stop what he does - to “fix” him. He appreciated that. With time he began to enjoy, even desire your company, and even went as far as allowing you to see who he was under the mask.

Getting to the location was easy enough - it was dark as all hell outside in the early December nights, and no one wanted to leave the safety and comfort of their homes. Especially since the small town had just been visited by the infamous boogeyman. Except, seemingly, the exact house he had his sights on. Perhaps it was just a lapse in judgement by a house full of drunk, intelligence-deprived party goers, but perhaps they thought one escaped asylum serial killer wouldn’t be able to survive against all of them. Either way, they left the side door unlocked. Entering the house, Michael quietly stalked around the trash strewn about - it seemed like a party had just concluded, which meant it was very likely that everyone in the house was dead asleep from over drinking. Easy targets.

It didn’t take long for Michael to be almost completely alone in the frat house. His ability to quietly stalk through it was really put to the test however, as the house was absolutely filthy. He could smell, even through his mask, the stink of cheap alcohol, smoke, and something that he’d be alright with never fully identifying. The ground was almost completely littered in something that looked like discarded clothes, with various kinds of large stains just about everywhere - for once maybe he’d actually be the good guy by killing whoever made this mess.

Finding said filth was pretty easy, people were asleep on the floor, on couches, piled together on beds. He saw two bodies sharing a bed, one draping an arm over the other, their hand being held by the other. He thought of you - your warmth finally allowing him to get some real rest at night. How you were never scared of his large hands, never seeming to care about the blood that can’t be washed from them. How you also seemed to sleep better in his presence, sometimes waiting up for him to even get to bed.

You better not be doing that now.

That room took him a bit longer to get through.

The last room was on the eastern side of the building, the master bedroom. Only a few people were in this room, two piled on the bed and one asleep face-down on the floor, lying in a pool of… something. Michael had gotten rid of two of them before he noticed how the only window of this room was perfectly facing your old apartment. You had been splitting time between there and the old Myers house ever since that night, but the knowledge that anyone in this house could have seen you through that window made his blood boil. He can’t stop you from interacting with people; he had enough common sense to know that you had to work and get money to sustain yourself and get whatever you thought Michael needed as well, and that a good person like you needed more than just a serial killer for company (much to his dismay). However, he absolutely could stop people from going to you first. As he stood over the last soon-to-be-corpse, panting from the adrenaline, he came up with a plan.

Michael had always made his kills swift and brutal, leaving no room for anyone to think it wasn’t his work. But tonight, he changed it up a bit. He woke the last victim up, quickly grabbing him from behind.

“Wha…what?”

The poor boy was barely conscious as Michael put the knife into the other’s hand, using his own to guide him to slit his own throat. Of course, there was a slight struggle, but having a hangover and fighting against a killing machine worked against the last man’s favor, and the knife glided across the skin, breaking through with a steady trickle of blood. He fell to the floor in a position of apparent suicide, and Michael then got to work. He wanted it to seem that this poor boy had lost his mind and killed every member of the afterparty he had hosted himself, all because of an obsession with the person across the street - you. Michael staged the scene by changing the boy into his overalls (plenty of stupid people had been impersonating Michael, no one would think it was actually his.) On a piece of paper, he wrote down your typical schedule for any given week - no, he did not memorize it, and he certainly didn’t repeat it to himself like a mantra when he needed to focus. Don’t be stupid. To anyone who’d see the scene, it would look like an obsessed maniac realized you were out of his grasp, lost his mind, killed all his friends and then himself. The police would likely put together that you were his target, and they would likely question you, but Michael knew you wouldn’t say anything. If anything, you’d probably assume they meant him, and would be absolutely shocked when it would be revealed to be someone else. Maybe you’d put together that it was all an elaborate ruse from Michael. 

Maybe you’d thank him.

Michael stole a change of clothes and left, leaving the knife as proof of the crime clearly not committed by him, a small bottle of cold medicine he found on the nightstand rattling in the pocket of his pants.

As he expected, the house was quiet when he returned. Well maybe not expected, but that’s what he wanted to greet him. He hated when you stayed up for him, as if you were an old married couple (deception and avoidance was his game, it was only a matter of him before he fell victim to it himself). You were his captive, and would likely end up being his victim too (deception). There was no love in his heart, in this home, anywhere close to him. He’s a killer, and only a killer (avoidance).

So why do his hands twitch when he thinks of you? Why does his body move on its own, craving your warmth and touch?

You were still asleep when he got to the bedroom, breathing shallow. He set the medicine bottle on the nightstand closest to you, going into the bathroom to make sure he was free from any blood before he joined you bedside. The dip in the mattress woke you up enough for you to open your eyes to see a bottle of cold medicine left for you (don’t mind the dark red smear on the label).

“Thinking of me even during a bloodbath?”

You sat up and took two of the small pills, washing them down with the glass of water you had gotten earlier in the night. When you laid back down, you were pulled into the grasp of your oh-so-thoughtful killer. You felt his face nuzzle into your hair with an uncanny tenderness- wait. His face? Like, the actual one?

“Your mask- where is it?”

He opted to not respond, instead pulling you further into his chest. You quietly hummed, too tired to press it any further. You reached back and grabbed his hand and pulled it close, right on top of your heart.

He huffed in response.