#forest entity x human

[monstersflashlight]

Hi me again here |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ

Loved your little piece about the forest entity, so you'd make me very happy with a second part :)

Tentacles and forest monsters are just soo good <3

So yeah, I'll keep looking and loving your writing, thanks for all your amazing work ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Hi! Thank you so much for your compliments, that’s so sweet! Here you have it a little bit of filth <3 Part 1 is here, if someone needs a refresher.

Plant toy

Forest entity x fem!human || tentacles (vines), bondage, edging, oral sex, double penetration, gagging, nipple clamps

You had no idea what compelled you into going back to the forest, but there you were, wearing a skimpy outfit and walking around without any reason. You felt stupid, but also a bit excited. A bit turned on. The opportunity of finding the forest entity that fucked you too good to pass. You wanted a repeat… Well, more like you needed a repeat.

In the past couple weeks since it happened, you couldn’t think of anything else, your brain was completely stuck on him. (You didn’t miss the joke about being stuck on a tree-hole just to end up being stuck on a forest entity). Every second of every day you wanted to feel him again, to feel those vines and roots against your body, constricting your movements and leaving you at his mercy.

It was exhilarating, but the memory was not enough anymore. You burned down the batteries on two of your sex toys and had not enough energy to keep looking for more fun ways to get yourself off. Nothing was as good as the vines, nothing was as good as him.

So there you were, getting lost in the forest. On purpose this time.

You wandered for what felt like hours, until your body was tired and your anticipation dissipated into a more real sense of fear. You didn’t know where you were, if he didn’t show up at some point you’d be lost in the forest without a way to find your way back. You felt like you were walking in circles, unable to see anything as the sun started to set. Real panic started to fill your insides.

“You are lost and scared once again, but this time you have done this to yourself… Why?” His voice startled you, and you screamed. As you turned around, the vision of his strange face calmed you completely. He was there. He came for you.

A rush of adrenaline filled your body and your panties got wet. Fuck, that ethereal voice was messing with your libido big time. “I- I was looking for you.” You told him, voice caught in your throat as some vines and roots bloomed from the ground beneath your feet and lifted your body, undressing you in the process.

“For me? Why?” His utter confusion would have been cute if you weren’t suspended in the air with wines holding your arms and legs apart.

“I don’t know.” That was a weak ass response and you knew it. He tilted his head to the side like he was trying to decipher your whole soul with a look. Maybe he was doing exactly that, how would you know. “Okay, okay… I- I wanted a repeat,” you confessed in a murmur.

“Of what, human?” His uncanny features made your insides twist and turn, but also made you even more curious to know more about him. “There’s no balance to be restored now. Are you making a free offer to the forest?” He added. You didn’t think of that. You didn’t think of anything apart from getting fucked again. You were so dumb. Your face flushed at the acknowledgment that you got lost on purpose just to get fucked by vines. How freaky was that?

“I- Yes! Yes. That’s it,” you agreed, without really knowing what that would entitle. “I want… I want you to do that again… with the vines.” Your face burned as you said it.

Said vines took on their own and started caressing your body, like he wasn’t controlling them, as if they were a living organism on their own. That filled you with an unsettled feeling, but part of you liked that thought. Part of you wanted to be at the mercy of some mindless plant organism.

He turned around, not looking at you. Disappointed had a sour taste against your mouth. “I see…” He was leaving. He was leaving you there without even looking twice at you. Without an explanation.

“Wait! Are you going to leave me here?” You asked, panicked. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. The spike of fear mixed with anticipation and arousal, leaving you breathless.

“I need to retrieve something, I’ll be back.” Just as he was saying that, some more vines appeared in front of you and stuff your mouth until you couldn’t answer back, like a plant gag.

He left you there, mouth stuffed with vines and your body suspended in the air by plant-acles (plant tentacles?). As soon as he disappeared, the vines took a turn. More vines and roots appeared around you, touching you. Caressing every inch of your body. The ones in your mouth started thrusting into your throat until you were gagging and salivating around them. It felt like the messiest blowjob of your life as some more vines and roots caressed your nipples and clit. It was exhilarating.

But they wouldn’t finish you. The tentacles around you played with your sensitive areas, pinching, caressing, sucking… You were thrown against the edge a thousand times, but they never let you cross it. The vines moved and caressed around you, tightening and releasing parts of your body. It was maddening, the unfulfilled pleasure was driving you completely insane. Over and over for what felt like hours but was probably less than twenty minutes, the vines edged you until every caress felt like it was going to make you explode. But it didn’t. They didn’t let you.

When he reappeared in front of you, you could have sobbed. If you weren’t already crying because of the overstimulation and the edging. Tears ran freely down your face, mixing with the drool around the plant-gag fucking your throat. You felt used. And you enjoyed it, like the little pervert you were.

He looked at you for a few seconds, “I shouldn’t have left them unsupervised. My apologies, human.” His apology sounded a lot like a non-apology. He wasn’t sorry at all, he consciously left you there with wild vines edging you, the little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth was answer enough. “I found the compass.” You didn’t know what he was talking about, but the vines wouldn’t stop moving and you felt ready to explode. You wanted to scream at him, to beg him to end the torture to your senses and let you come. But he kept talking. “Now you would be able to find me,” he explained. He looked at you expecting an answer you were unable to provide. “Oh, the vines…” He moved his hand and the vines fucking your throat retracted.

You breathed deep before chanting: “Please, please, please…” You were unable to form any more words as you screamed and begged for release. “Please let me come. Pleaseeeee!”

“It’s okay, human. I’m here,” he told you softly.

His words sounded ominous, and maybe you should have trusted your instincts because before you realized, the vines around you were morphing and moving. Some of them constricted around your nipples, acting as improvised nipple clamps as he approached step by step to your naked and restricted body. He stood there for a few seconds, admiring his vine work.

And then, he raised his hand and you cried out. For the first time ever, he touched you. His fingers caressed the skin of your abdomen and made a trail lower and lower… When his finger touched your clit, you screamed at the top of your lungs. “None of that, you don’t want to bother the little animals, do you?” He didn’t give you time to react, he conjured a new vine around your head and gagged you.

That wasn’t the only new vine, soon enough there was one curling around your leg, approaching your center. He cooed at you when you whimpered, shushing you as he caressed your hair softly, his other hand still circling your clit.

The tender gesture was such a contrast with the sexual torture he was inflicting on your poor human body. You were dizzy by it. It was maddening. And when the vine pushed into your hungry cunt, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You groaned and moaned as he kept fucking you restlessly.

You were lost in the pleasure he was giving you. So lost that the first touch of a vine against your asshole caught you off guard. You tried to scream, but he wasn’t having any of that. The gag around your mouth pressed harder as you whimpered around it. You were breathing so hard you feared hyperventilation, but his soft touches to your side kept you focused. Bit by bit, the vine pushed inside your asshole until it was fully seated.

And just like that, it began. In perfect sync, the vines inside your pussy and ass started fucking you. It was better than anything you’d ever felt. It was so much more than you thought you could take. But he didn’t ask, he gave and you took.

He was looking at you with such intensity you felt hyperaware of every twitch, every groan and every bit of saliva you let out around the gag. But he still didn’t let you come.

“Just a bit more, human, you are doing great,” his voice was soft as he moved his hands to direct the vines around your body. In and out. In and out. They fucked you in tandem as he looked at you like you were his prize.

His encouragements were making you see stars and a thousand different lights behind your eyes. The assault to your senses so deep and profound you didn’t know how to feel anymore. You didn’t know if it was too much, if it was too little. You could only feel the vines moving in and out of your holes, the stretch and pressure of it against all your sensitive spots.

“Come for me human, give me your offering.” Like a magic word, you exploded on a thousand pieces as your body melted against the vines, a splash of your juices showering everything around you. “That’s, such a good human for me.” That was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

You woke up next to your car, re-dressed and with a shiny compass next to you.

[ozzgin]

An yandere entity that has something to do with the forest x a reader with allergies. Just like imagine the entity comes over to romance reader. And they just sneeze, their eyes watery and nose stuffy just cause the entity is around

I'm thinking of Forest Entity who sprouts and blooms in spring. To your great dismay, you quickly discover that you're allergic to the pollen it releases. To the entity's even greater dismay, it works as a mating mechanism and causes it to be particularly aroused during this period. So you're stuck romancing at a safe distance with a pent-up ancient creature who is obsessed with you.

"You don't have to stand that far", you mention over the radio, looking out your watchtower.

"I'd rather not take any risks. My self-control is rather bankrupt around this time", the creature sighs at the other end of the connection.

[More Monster Doodles]

[elssero]

/ BITE ME

-elssero kinktober

✟ vampire!reader x sub!prohero dynamite, dom!reader, fem! reader, monsterfucking, bloodsucking, cumming untouched (kinda), overstimulation, public, m!masterbation. porn WITH plot. sorry it’s a lot of plot. (you attack him, slight violence) (apologies for any typos!)

pro hero dynamite- often described as a strong willed, stubborn, determined and valiant man- a role model to many. but most importantly- he’s incredibly overconfident.

he could guess that’s how he found himself in his currently situation. on a solo mission deep inside dark woods that he’s unfamiliar with- a mission that he was warned over and over again should have been a team up.

but he’s dynamite? the number two ranked hero? a symbol of power and strength. he doesn’t need backup or help on trivial missions like this. it should be easy, in theory- at least for him.

the brief he was given for this particular mission has minimal information- with each victim seeming to not completely remember the events of the night they were attacked, memories coming back to them in fragmented pieces.

the case involves a series of attacks that take place in a small, rural town. rich with folklore and community, on the surface- the location seems perfect. having a low crime rate and filled with life.

from what each victim can remember, the attacks seems to begin the same. the statistics of the assaulted immediately draw the hero’s attention- young people, ranged in their early twenties with eighty percent being men.

now normally, in cases like these that describe who seems to be a serial attacker, the victims, most of the time are women. and although it is not impossible, it it very rare that most of the victims are men.

this in itself interests dynamite. he feels stupid, and incredibly sexist for thinking it- but he can’t help but enjoy the challenge of taking down a villain who appears to be targeting men around his age group.

seemingly- each attack begins somewhat innocently. the setting of a bar or the local park being the beginning of the story.

the victims describe being approached by an entity that seems to take the form of a beautiful women. with eyes so enchanting they struggled to look away, a smile so captivating they couldn’t say no.

their lured- seduced into a forest, the same one he’s in now. they describe following the women as she leads them deeper into the trees, under the impression that she had a home- or at least a place for them to stay inside the woods.

as they move further and further into the forest, a piercing feeling of unease fills their stomach. an indication that something isn’t right, but when the women turns around and gives them a sly smile they can’t help but continue to follow her.

a shift happens almost immediately- the entity they were previously trailing behind seems to disappear in front of them, moving faster than able to understand by the human eye.

it happens in an instant, a cold breeze catches the victim, before their able to process the change she appears directly in front of them, pulling said victim towards her with inhumane strength.

if they’re able to see her- for even a second they would take note of her eyes, once captivating now glowing a deep shape of red- she approaches almost invisibly, illuminated only slightly by the glimmer of the moonlight. sharp fangs extrude from her mouth for only a second before a piercing cold slices their neck.

victims describe feeling something they can only describe as being drained, their life force being taken from them before they blackout- waking up the next morning on the outskirts of the forest, alone.

as far as the local authorities are aware, no one had died from these encounters, just severe pains and blackouts lasting upwards of a week.

what intrigues dynamite the most about this case is the way the victims describe their attacker- as someone beautiful, enchanting, even going as far to describe her as having ethereal beauty, somewhat otherworldly.

he can’t help but be interested, wanting for himself to see the mythical appearance of the entity who continues to terrorise this town. the assumption the commission have came too is that it must be a downside of a quirk. a quirk that forces the inhabited town feed on the blood of others in order to stay alive.

the cold of the night is beginning to affect bakugo as he wanders aimlessly through the darkened woods, the air is cool and thick with the scent of nature. his senses are heightened as his vision adjusts to the dim light. it makes every silhouette of the trees, every breeze of a branch appear more mysterious.

every step on the soft and damp earth feels purposeful, amplified by the surrounding silence. the deeper he ventures, the more disoriented he feels. the trees feel like their closing in, wait? has he seen that log before?

that’s when he hears it, a louder, heavier rustling of leaves, branches snapping under what sounds to be a prominent weight unlike any of the forest creatures he had encountered during his journey.

the hair on the back of his neck stands sharply as he whips his head towards the sound- not fast enough when he hears it again on the other side of him. he’s being surrounded, circled.

the forest seems to breath with him as he takes faster, heavier breaths, fighting the fear he feels inside the vast, dark woods, filled with whispers.

seemingly in a flash he feels a hand reach his back- his reflexes allowing him to turn towards to figure before he’s tackled, his back hitting the ground his a thud, closing his eyes quickly as he winces in pain.

the feeling of the hand on his back and the weight of the creatures legs beginning to straddle him make it clear he hasn’t been attacked by an animal, certainly not.

upon opening his eyes, he is met with a sight he hadn’t fully prepared for. you. illuminated only by beams of starlight that struggle to penetrate the dense canopy of trees surrounding you.

he can see you though, the glow of your red eyes captivate him, he knows he has the right person. you look down on him, hair drapes along your figure, looking up at you now, he feels as through the previous descriptions of your sightings don’t even do your intense beauty justice.

your mouth is agape, breathing almost animalistic, before you move your face down into his neck, taking a long, drawn out breath. when you move back to look at him his breath hitches, a smile evident on your face.

“your not from here, are you?” the smile on your face makes him feel uneasy, unable to move even if he tried due to your intense grip on him, he can’t speak.

instead you nod, taking his silence as an answer, thankfully. “cute costume.. what are you? some sort of hero?” the mocking in your voice agitates him.

he groans as he attempts to move- you only increase the grip you have on him in return. “oh come on hero- your really trying to run away so quickly? the fun part hasn’t even begun”

the vice you have on his waist with your legs only tightens, digging your knees into the ground to capture him properly. this isn’t the way this was supposed to go- you had him trapped before he even laid eyes on you.

helpless- a feeling dynamite does not enjoy, but with every struggle against your grip it becomes clear you aren’t letting him go anytime soon.

a pit in his stomach begins to grow- you won’t kill him, it doesn’t seem to be your style but he can’t help the fear- and the desire that pools inside.

it was foolish of him to wander into unknown territory- he knows that now as he watchesyou take in the scent of him- his eyes go wide when he feels your breath on his neck once again.

a giggle escapes your lips, thighs tightening around his waist, an increased pressure building in his pants, he feels pathetic.

rushing to force something out of mouth he attempts to speak to you- “w-wait!”- it comes out a little more breathy than he’d like.

“huh- so you do talk.” you don’t appear to be taking him seriously- instead aiming to mock- make fun of his resist.

“w-what are you?” it seems like the right question to ask- even if he can’t turn you in, maybe he could get more information to give to the commission. even if the story is ultimately too embarrassing to bear. “oh? me? are you sure your in any sort of position to be asking questions right now?”

he lowers in his head in response “you have put me in a good mood.. it’s a little difficult to explain-” he doesn’t fully understand what you mean, opting to stay quiet and allow you to continue “you might not believe me, but i guess you don’t need too- i’m a vampire.”

his mouth forms an o in shock- and confusion? his brows furrow slightly, unable to determine if your being serious or not “w-what?- like in the stories?”

“hmm yes i suppose so-” you don’t seem to be paying any mind to his confusion- instead moving your fingers delicacy along his chest.

“so w-what you just, feed on people?” he watched the movements of your fingers- as they rise and fall with every breath he takes-

“i have too” you seem amused by his questioning- he wonders if you’ve ever had to explain yourself before, you look down at his face now, noticing his red dusted cheeks “however it appears that you don’t seem to mind huh hero?”

he feels uneasy, the tone of your mockery going straight to his stomach, his pants tightening “you wanna give me your name hero?”

“d-dynamite-” you shake your head at that, clearing unimpressed by his answer “what about your real name?”

he takes a second to think about his answer- not finding any positive reasons to lie he continues “bakugo- katsuki bakugo.”

you analyse him for a second- trying to work out if he’s feeling the truth, you take his flushed expression as honestly “katsuki huh- that’s pretty cute- and there’s so much of you too-”

you move your attention away from his face, moving your hands around his frame, a hand coming up to grip his throat “how do you feel about letting me you drain you?”

his breath hitches- his stomach begins to flutter at the thought- his hips rutting up slightly as he imagines it “you wanna let me suck your blood? hm?”

his answer is immediate- it comes of desperate, worried if he takes too long to reply you’d leave him here- alone “o-okay- fuck.”

he feels your breath on his neck again, this time even closer, your nose inches away from his nape as you bury your face into him.

with a vice-like grip the feeling of your fangs  immobilises him, the sharp cold bite pierces the soft flesh of his skin and a flood of warmth spills into your mouth- “taste even better than i’d imagined-“

it comes out deep and gritty- matched with the groan that leaves his throat, you both seem to be enjoying this- “s-shit”

unable to control himself- his hips beginning rutting up against your own- the bulge in his pants feeling to heavy to ignore, moaning at the feeling of you against his neck, getting impossibly more hard when he attempts to move his hands but is stopped by your grip.

totally under your control- unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, the feeling begins to pool in his stomach even quicker- embarrassingly quickly.

sooner than he’d like- he’s bucking up with an increasing fast pace, you don’t make any move to help him- instead entirely focused on the blood seeping from his neck.

in a sudden move he’s cumming- dampening the inside of his suit with his seed as he continues to rut upwards- unable to contain his moans of pleasure.

this seems to grab your attention- moving your head away from his neck and lifting your hips slightly- he whines at the loss of pressure “oh? this is new.”

you take a moment to look at him- taking in his fucked out expression due to both his premature orgasm and his loss of blood “god aren’t you pathetic? the feeling of me sucking your blood made you cum hero?”

degradation- this is new to him, infact everything going on right is new to him, he’s not used to this feeling of submission, it makes his cock stir. “oh. f-fuck”

you think for a second- contemplating your options before you completely remove yourself from him, ignoring his plea “yknow- blood isn’t the only way a vampire can steal human essence.”

manoeuvring yourself beside him you delicately place your hands around the belt of his suit- teasing him. his eyes blow wide as you tug on his pants, taking his ruined boxers with them. he groans at the sudden feeling of the air against his cock.

gaping at him, you run your fingers up his dick- it’s long and thick, covered in cum from the ruins of his previous orgasm, you take some on your fingers and lick it off- all while maintaining intense eye contact- “i think this will do just fine- you wanna cum for me again hero?”

he can’t help the way his eyes roll back when you hum against your fingers- sucking them clean of his cum “y-yeah” the same feeling of patheticness washing over him “fuck y-you!”

a low chuckle comes from your lips-“hm i don’t think you mean that- look at you! made a mess all over yourself-” the sentence itself makes his cock twitch-

wrapping a hand around his dick- squeezing it slightly before before you begin to move your hand up and down- listening to his groans.

“o-oh fuck” his words come out disgruntled- his cock painfully hard as you work your fingers up and down it.

“what’s that katsuki? you wanna cum?” yes- yes god his head falls back at your words, mouth agape as he’s unable to control the sounds leaving his throat- doing nothing to stop you ruining him. “y-yeah!”

“how badly?” he groans in response- unable to deal with your relentless teasing- wishing nothing more than to cum again.

you stop your movements in an instant- he whines at the lack of stimulation “cmon answer the question katsuki? how badly do you wanna cum for me?”

it comes out in whines as he speaks- “s-so bad- ah!” his hips buck up into you as you begin to move your hand again- attempting to match your pace.

unable to control himself any longer due to the sensation your movements- and your words are giving him- he cums again- this time shooting ropes all over the pair of you-

you move quickly in order to catch it all, licking up his chest to catch the parts that landed there, you continue the movements of your mouth until it reaches the base of this cock- now red and twitching.

“coming all this way to deal with me too.. i’m starting to think that maybe you came looking for this” he shakes his head in refusal-

instead you begin to take long- slow licks from the base of his cock to the tip- teasing him relentlessly “you think you can give me another?”

tears breach his eyes when you take his tip into your mouth, tongue swirling around it- “n-no! can’t ! it’s too much!”

you remove yourself from him in an instant- tears now rolling down his face as he whines “are you sure?”

he’s too far gone already- completely immersed in your movements- embarrassment bubbling in his throat “no- no stop! touch me!”

you smile- a wicked one, you know you’ve got him. “i knew it- gonna cum again for me?” you dip back down- latching your mouth onto his cock yet again, hands move to grip his waist to stop him fucking your face.

“gonna cum like some touchstarved bitch for me huh?” you stop your attack on his dick only momentarily to speak before lunging down again- this time taking him fully.

it doesn’t take long to have him cumming again- thick ropes down your throat as both of your eyes roll back in pleasure- “thaats it- good job..” you allow the remaining seconds of his orgasm to rush though him- by the time he’s conscious enough to open his eyes your already stood up, fixing yourself.

“this was fun dynamite-” you take a look at him from the ground below him- dominating him as he pouts up at you-

“however, if you come around here looking for me again.. i can’t promise that you’ll be so lucky a second time round.”

he’s upset- upset that your moving away from him so quickly, upset that you seem to be leaving him“w-what? what do you mean?”

almost- you almost take pity on him, his fucked out face and the dust of red on his cheeks- he looks cute like this. that’s the problem. “was already hard enough for me to hold back this time”

you begin to walk away from him- ignoring how he seems to grasp himself up- fixing himself in the process“well- have a good one katsuki-” your voice comes out even more mysterious than before-

“s-stop! where are you going??” there’s longing in his eyes- already missing the effect your touch has on him- but by the time he gets up to catch you- your gone.

he whips around in circles- hoping- maybe to find a trace of where you went, failing miserably.

leaving him alone- in that same dark forest he first ventured to find you- he feels a sense of emptiness, alone with a pang of drowsiness that seems to hit him all that once. reaching his hand up to take a feel at the pain in his neck- he graces over the marks you left. cold, wet blood lacing his fingers before his vision goes black.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini, what about vampire Fyodor x vampire hunter reader (〜^∇^)〜 like you’ve been assigned to hunt down and bring the head of Fyodor Dostoevsky to uhh.. a king idk.

So you track Fyodor down and instead make a deal with him. You won’t kill him and actually let him feed off you and he lets you fuck him (ゝз╹)

At first he’s hesitant. A well ranked hunter coming to him and proposing a friends with benefits arrangement sounds pretty suspicious, but hearing the offer that you let him feed off you makes him agree since it’s an easy meal and he was planning on betraying you later on.

Thats until he’s bent down on all fours and being pounded like wild animals in heat. The vampire is so touch starved that he can’t handle the pleasure and tries biting anything he can (let’s just say you were left with a bunch of bite marks) After that experience he traps you in his manor and begs you to stay with him, maybe he turns you into a vampire as well

-🍮

I had so much fun writing this haha, and I had to brainstorm trying to fill in some plot holes

Dom!reader x sub!vampire!fyodor

Warning: teasing, pet name (lil’ vamp), pegging (I use dick), a tiny bit of dacryphilia, biting, hierophilia (blood), vampirism, contract sex

Edit: I think I’m based towards fyodor, this ended up so long again-

You were a mercenary, one specified in hunting down those bloodsucking monsters known as vampires. Your name was infamous among the humans and vampire race, known for your amazing methods and efficient execution. Though you don’t care much about fame, the only good things about it is it lands you many missions. Which is why you’ve been summoned to the castle of a faraway country, one that resides close to a forbidden forest.

These mysterious forests are strictly forbidden due to vampires living within them. It’s always dark and quiet in those places, befitting their taste. So you might think it’s alright if people just don’t go into the woods. Sadly something like that can’t be prevented. There are many valuable resources beneath these trees, and everyone is dying to get their hands on those. The price for material from the forest is also really high, and sometimes that’s the only hope for the commoners.

Even though it’s been agreed upon that humans shall not disturb the vampires for they own safety, your client, the king, wanted to raid the forest. He had his eyes set on the wood planted around the mansion of the monster, it had a beautiful dark colour and was very sturdy. Yet out of fear for the power of the entity, he didn’t dare set a single foot into the woods. That’s when you come into the spotlight, he wanted you, the most famous vampire hunter, to take care of this. Once the vampire is gone, he won’t be breaking any rules, right?

This was a common case for you, everyone used you to do their dirty work. That’s the life of a mercenary, disposable and self-destructive.

You walked through the lavish halls of the king, meeting him in his throne hall. He didn’t spare you more then one glance, shouting loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, “y/n, vampire hunter. I have an honorary task for you. I want you to bring me the head of the demon Fyodor Dostoyevsky and for that you’ll be greatly rewarded.”

Despite it sounding grandiose and imposing you knew how to stand your ground, asking for the exact amount you’ll be rewarded and an advance payment. The king on the other hand refused to answer, saying he doesn’t want you to run off with the money. What a joke, your previous feats aren’t just for show after all. There was no helping it, that’s life. You swallowed your anger and left, rolling your eyes as you prepared to set off.

The home of that demon was grande, almost as huge as the castle, he sure loved luxury. You circled around the house to secure your escape route before heading inside, the door opened with a climatic creak. What a cliche, does vampires not know how to take care of their home? Without sparing it too much thought, you stepped inside and called out for that monster, wondering why the ruler knew his name. They must have a long history between them.

“Fyodor! Heyyy, come out, do me a favour and make this easy.” You yelled, and soon enough, a shadow emerged from behind you. Before you got the chance to turn around, he mumbled with grace and elegance, “Y/n, the vampire’s greatest enemy. The one who pulled out the fangs of Dracula with your bare hand, and forced him to drink the blood of his comrades.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, it was low and pretty, enough to stir something inside you.

“That’s an exaggeration, I never did such things.” You turned around and chuckled, staring into his purple eyes. Before you stood a black haired young man with a puffy shirt and fitted pants. He wore many silver accessories, tons of necklaces hung around his neck. His appearance was very eye-catching, pretty features and pale skin, sickly so. “…but I may have a record of flirting with the enemy.” After seeing how beautiful he was, you decided to indulge yourself, flirting with him.

He didn’t pay your words any attention, instead he continued with his speech, “Mortal children strived to be like you, while we use your stories to scare the kids.” You stopped, a sense of pride engulfing you from the inside. “My, I am quite famous after all.” Fyodor furrowed his brows, as if he’s agitated, then he relaxed his expression and said, “I knew you’d come for me one day. And, I’m dying to try out your blood.” After saying that, he licked his lips before covering his mouth with his hand.

You laughed, catching him off guard. The sound of your voice was annoying, he felt like you were mocking him. Then you teased, “dear, do you really think you can touch my blood?” That was clearly a provocation, you looked down on him. He clicked his tongue, glaring at you. The moment you blinked, he rushed over to you, planning on taking you out with one swoop attack. You dodged him with ease, commenting, “not bad, but is this all?” And he ignored your remarks once more.

Seeing how serious he was, you’ll have to stop the joking soon as well. To be honest you weren’t in the mood for fighting, which is why you suggested, “How about this, fyodor-” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He snapped, showing his fangs. “…then, lil’ vamp it is.” You chuckled, noticing how that pet name annoyed him further. “How about a deal? I’ll spare your life and you can have as much of my blood as I’m able to give you.” His pointy ears perked, intrigued by this proposal. It sounded enticing, but there’s nothing for free in this world.

“And what do you get out of this?” Fyodor asked, keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to heed the rules of a deal anyway, especially when made with a human. “Allow me to be a bit crude, but I want you to sell your body to me.” The boy froze in place, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Were you aware of the implications of your own words? Was this another one of your mockery, your way of insulting him? “What makes you think I’d agree?” He questioned you, staring at your face with his scarlet eyes, trying to read you.

“I’m simply proposing a deal, you can decline or agree, it’s up to you.” Somehow you managed to sound unbothered and cheery despite the situation. No matter how fyodor wanted to decline, he knew this was his chance. If you fought with him seriously, he would eventually lose. Now, with you giving him new opportunities, he had to take them and put it to good use. “I’ll accept this for now, so, show me how sincere you are.” The demon demanded, and you answered with, “my pleasure, please show me to your room.”

Who would have known a day like this would come, where he got shoved into his own room, pinned to his own bed and humiliated in front of a human. It didn’t take long until you got him bend over on all fours, face pressed into his soft pillows. Any of his attempts to overpower you were futile, because you were physically stronger than him. That allowed you to pretty much manhandle him, denying him access to your neck. Once you got him into this vulnerable position, you didn’t held yourself back, asking him one last time if your deal still stands. After he nodded, you went all in.

Now you were breathing heavily while slowly entering his hole. His rim was tight and didn’t allow you any entrance, but you stayed stubborn, gently pushing your way in. “You are so tight, lil’ vamp.” You muttered, occasionally glancing over at him to see how well his reaction is. “Nghhh…! S-slow down, it hurts!” Fyodor groaned, cheeks flushed red as he realized the situation he was in, and that he never shared such intimate moments with anyone before. “…if I go any slower I wouldn’t be moving anymore.” You tried to reason with him, leaning down to press your body against his.

“HnnGh… t-then pull out…” He snarled, glaring at you while he felt your skin against his back, pressing him down, reminding him of your presence. How did things turn out like this? Why was he participating in such vulgar acts with his greatest enemy…? “Do you want me to? Then you won’t get my blood as well.” You whispered into his ear, licking his earlobe and the earring he wore. “Ha-haahhhH…! No, d-don’t.” The boy gasped, and you weren’t sure what he meant. But he seems to be enjoying himself, so you continued.

His hands gripped the white sheets with all the remaining strength he had, his ass reddened as he struggled to take you whole. That poor guy’s entire body was shivering, shaking as he tried to get used to this pressing sensation inside him. He could feel you stretching him apart, rubbing against his squishy walls. You smiled as you observed his efforts, one hand clasped over his hand as you intertwining your fingers with his. He had sharp nails, you could even call them claws. So you were worried that he’d poke holes into his sheets.

Your other hand explored his body, trailing down his spine with your fingertips, brushing over his body as if you were caressing a flower. “Hmm..! Uh-uhhng..! It f-feels weird..” It tickled him, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least he thinks it wasn’t. Next, you stroke his silky hair before grabbing his hip and mumbling tenderly, “you are doing good, don’t worry I plan on being nice for today.” What do you mean for today…?

Soon, your hips met with his, and you stopped moving until you were sure he was alright. “Good job.” You said, rubbing his blushing cheeks slightly. Then you held your wrist right in front of him, inviting him to bite you, giving him your approval. Without any once of hesitation, he sunk his teeth into your flesh, sucking viciously. He was feeling so weak from your actions, he needed that replenishment. Since he was distracted, you took that chance to start moving again, making sure to take your sweet time. Well, he looked like he’d break if you weren’t gentle with him. He had such a slim and frail physic after all. Just look at his waist, it’s so skinny you fear you could accidentally break him into two pieces.

Fyodor suck on your wrist, mind getting cloudy from the taste of your sweet blood. It tasted amazing, and it made him feel all foggy inside. As if he was getting drunk on it, addicted even. He made sure not to waste a single drop, lips pressed against your skin while he gulped down more and more of your vitality. Apparently he was so distracted he didn’t notice you pounding his cute ass, not until it was too late. You fucked him slowly but roughly, each time you’d thrust yourself as deep inside him as you could, feeling him clench around you so sweetly.

“HnMnh, nghh…” the vampire only whimpered meekly as he sipped your blood contently, feeling pleasure blossom everywhere inside him. You eventually quickened your pace, now rutting into him without any care in the world. It was instantly met with his mewling, a high pitched noise as he screamed in ecstasy. Fyodor couldn’t pull his thoughts together, tongue hanging out as some tears rolled down his face.

Then you pulled your wrist away from him, saying, “that’s enough for now. If you want more, you gotta work hard.” His eyes bore such a pitiful look as he begged you for more, face melting as he moaned around you, some of your blood sticking to his lips. “Ahhh… it felt so good, I-i don’t wanna stop..” he admit, hands shaking underneath you, his primal urges kicking in, infesting his desires and hunger.

“What is it that you want, fyodor?” The way you voiced his name made his knees go weak, tremble even. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs with air, to keep his composure. “I-I want more blood… I want your blood.” You smiled, seeing him so desperate fed into your own desires. And you felt like if you denied him any longer he was going to cry, considering his eyes were getting watery already. “Then come here, lil’ vamp.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sat up, positioning him in your lap.

His first response was to whine as he arched his back forwards, legs turning into pudding as his hands shakily let go of the sheets, now clutching your thighs. “Ah-nGhh.. it’s so- so deep inside me.. it’s so foreign..?” Out of nowhere you turned him over, and he wanted to immediately bite your neck, but you covered his mouth with your palm. “Not yet.” As soon as he understood what you wanted, he wrapped his arms around your neck, bouncing up and down your dick like he was in heat. Your hand was still over his lips, so his moans all got muffled as they seeped through, “mHhnff, HnnGh, hmm…!!”

He rode you with fever and need. On one hand because he needed you and your blood on a carnal level, on the other hand due to him starting to enjoy getting fucked by you. After a while you took your hand away from him, now squeezing his waist with both hands, guiding his movements. Fyodor nuzzled against your neck, pleading with you, hoping you’d let him have some of that delicious red liquid again. “Y/n.. ah-huuHhn~ l-let me fed off you..? P-please..♡♥︎～?” You giggled to yourself, entertained and delighted, duty all pushed to the side as you said, “go on, take as much as you need.”

Needless of say, you two shared a long night together, and somehow, both of you ended up in endless love bites. Ops, what’s this? Oh no, his door is stuck! It must be because it’s so old~ oh no, seems you’ll have to stay at the mansion longer than expected… and his impending heat is coming up ♡

My friend send me this after I told them what I was writing haha

[lilacxquartz]

TO SAVE A BROKEN SOUL • suguru geto x cursed spirit fem!reader

ao3 link • masterlist • next chapter >>

summary: roaming around the forest as a neutral cursed spirit spirit, you stumble upon a temple, not quite knowing what sort of nightmare awaited you from the inside.

tags/warnings: dead dove, (upcoming) non-con, violence, yandere, reader insert, weekly updates, dark, multi chapter, horror

Chapter 1: Found

Wandering around the forest in the dead of night was essentially second nature to you. It was survival, plain and simple.

It was how you got by.

Moving from one point to another without a single destination in mind, never knowing where you’d end up next—that’s just what being a cursed spirit was; to be stuck in a perpetual state of endless, aimless drift.

Your journey was lacking direction and your benign existence had swallowed away any purpose you could have had. Regular humans would call this being a ghost, but it felt much worse than that.

To have no purpose, nor an escape.

And despite calling yourself a neutral entity, you stayed far away from human settlements, never daring to get too close. You knew better than to risk it. Accidents were inevitable if you lingered a little too close to people (or a little too long), so you simply didn’t gamble the chance to begin with.

It was easier that way.

It was safer.

The fine line of what separated you from being a neutral spirit and a malevolent one was very thin though, but could have been defined by how you fed. Rather than tempting fate with the potential of human flesh, you chose restraint, resigning you to either not feed at all or to keep your feasts confined to what you found within the forest.

(But the desire was always present; gnawing away at your gradually lapsing self control, clawing at your core—so desperate to let slip… waiting for that perfect moment.)

Sustainability wasn’t that much of a necessity for you otherwise. After all, you weren’t truly alive; at least not in the same way that humans (and living things overall) were.

But sometimes you couldn’t help but crave it. The scent and taste of human flesh—so sickeningly sweet and almost intoxicating—seasoned with the essence of their negativity. A delicacy so potent yet so forbidden.

In that aspect, you were always starving, but you also didn’t mind. The hunger kept your senses sharp which in turn, kept you focused. It was a bitter reminder of who (or what) you could become should you ever let it consume you.

So instead, you roamed. You wandered. You cruised through the trees not bothering a single soul, as a neutral, almost dormant being.

However, this neck of the woods that you found yourself within different somehow. Despite passing through it countless times before, you somehow never stumbled across this particular temple.

The realisation that you were treading on human property hit you all too late, noticing the structure only when you were halfway up a path of rooted stairs. Extinguished lanterns hung above, charred ashes escaping from the blackened wicks, swinging off of overgrown wooden beams that framed along the path.

At first, you thought that it was abandoned.

But just as you were about to take a step inside, intending to take refuge for the night…

…A sound froze you in place.

Footsteps.

Quickly snapping out of your daze, your innate response was to retreat in fear of being spotted. Not everyone could see cursed spirits, but you couldn’t afford to take that chance, knowing that in doing so, you risked compromising your very existence.

But you were all too slow.

A young girl had already caught a glimpse of you; her eyes locking onto your position. A wave of panic swept over you and without thinking—you bolted—desperate to fade back into the inviting darkness of the woods. Back into the shadows where you belonged. Away from the prying eyes of people, or worse, by the unforgiving gaze of sorcerers.

To be seen, to be even be acknowledged for a split second, was to invite danger and that was a price that you simply could not afford to pay.

In your rushed escape, your arm caught on a loose branch that tore into your marbled flesh. The wood cut deep, chipping away at your body like brittle stone. You seethed in pain, emitting a high-pitched whine as inky black blood spilled from your wound, trailing behind you and painting a dark path that led to your position.

You attempted to tune into the forest, to isolate whether or not someone was behind you; hearing the twigs that snapped underfoot like spreading wildfire closing in behind you in a stalking cresendo—they were right behind you—ready to close in at any second.

Your own nerves betrayed you, catching you off guard as your clarity soon became clouded with a surge of panic. Every instinct screamed at you to run in all directions at once, daring you to abandon all sense of logic and to give into your instincts, maybe even…!

But it was all too late.

They caught up to you.

(And whoever it was, they weren’t the least bit kind.)

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as strong hands clamped around your shoulders, wrapping fingers that dug into your flesh to keep you solidified in place. Such horrid pressure that radiated off of the assiliant that felt almost suffocating in how they grounded you. Not only did they manage to capture you, but they also have managed to have rootyou to the spot, sealing off your final window of escape.

Unable to say a word, you instead choked as your breath tore harsh against the air, feeling yourself be thrown backwards. More blood continued to pour as you tanked the landing impact, watching with unease as a tall figure caged you in. You remained statued as they pushed your body right up against the bark of the tree, demonstrating such strength that it began to crack and splinter.

Their touch felt unforgiving, despite the unmistakable scent of being human.

(So who was the real monster here?)

Your mind continued to scream danger, urging you to move, to do anything that didn’t result in remaining still. Every remaining instinct urged for you to fight back before your demise was met, before your existence was erased entirely, before—

“Trying to slip away so soon?” a chilling male voice asked, catching you in the midst of your spiralling thoughts. Their tone was cold, yet somehow deceptively gentle, only seeming to unsettle you further.

You couldn’t trust them.

Not with an introduction like this.

You faltered, your sights submitting to the looming figure before you. Your instincts continued to run wild as your mind warred with itself, begging—pleading—for you to get away, to please, please escape. In a last ditch effort, you tried to push past the man, clawing at his skin in a bid to push him away from you.

But in doing so, you only managed to piss him off further.

Before you even knew it—before you could even react—you were dislocated, struck down and dislocated.

Did he get a hit on you…?

Without a moment’s pause, you involuntarily slumped against the tree, your legs giving way. Your vision blurred as you desperately attempted to focus on the man before you, the moonlight just barely illuminating his face.

From what little you could make out, he could have been a shaman or perhaps even a monk. His attire was traditional, something you recognised as a religious garment.

A peculiar thought crossed your mind: since when were buddhist monks so violent?

He flicked his eyes to the wound you inflicted on him before meeting with your gaze again. “That hurt.”

Once again, you tried to back away, your words barely coming out to defend your cause.

“I-I haven’t even, I haven’t touched the temple,” you blurted out, your delivery barely coherent. “Please, just… let me go.”

You stared him down with an intense glare, hoping to challenge him into finding reason but instead all he did was mirror your gaze; leaving you pooling with confusion (and maybe even dread).

Maybe he wasn’t a regular human, but rather a sorcerer instead.

You really hoped not though, because then you would be in some serious trouble.

His eyes narrowed, his tone remained serious and cold as he spoke up once again, “So you’re admitting that was you lurking around the temple?”

Nodding, you scanned around the vicinity seeking an opportunity to exit, but there was none.

“I won’t come back if you let me go,” you promised.

However, the man didn’t waver. Instead, he seemed to be almost entertained(?) at your attempt to negotiate, as if your behaviour was oddly human to some extent given your status. “Bit of an odd one, aren’t you?”

He crouched down, extending a couple of pinched fingers to tweeze your chin and point your jaw towards the moonlight. You writhed under his grip, feeling unsettled by his invasive and unyielding stare.

“Quite pretty too,” he murmured with backhanded praise, “…for a cursed spirit.”

“Let go of me, I’ll leave and—“

“—hm?” he caught you mid plea. “Who said anything about you leaving?”

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” you asked, your voice carrying a hint of reluctance the longer you remained in his company. You weren’t naïve; you understood fully well what sorcerers were capable of.

What their jobs were.

“Kill you?” he mused, his expression remaining unreadable. “I could. I might. But for now, I’m simply curious about you,” he paused, taking a moment to admire your appearance once again, “so, why don’t you come with me?”

You shook your head violently, attempting to back away as far as you possibly could but he didn’t let you get very far, if anywhere at all.

Instead, he pulled you to your feet as he stood up, his voice adopting a threatening edge, “Let me rephrase that for you,” he leaned in just a bit closer, “come with me or I will exorcise you. Your choice.”

Feeling torn, you finally resigned your fate to the hands of the strange monk. Your stomach gnawed with furious hunger, begging for you to sink your teeth deep into his flesh as both a punishment as well as a chance to buy time to escape. Yet, there was something about him that at the same time that overrode such an urge, something that made you drop your guard around him at long last—and—against your better judgement, to even trust him.

So in the end, you gave in after all, choosing to follow him back to the temple.

Unaware of all the dark plans that he had in store for you.

~~~

this is part 2 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 3

chapter 2 | series masterlist | main asterlist | chapter 4

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're at your wits' end with joel. so you have to do something about it.

warnings: 18+. nsfw. mdni. mention of sarah's death. probably absolute filth. some slapping. explicit smut with a plot. softdom!joel. biting. masturbation (m and f). finger sucking. unprotected piv. a bit of ass play. pet names (darling, sweetheart). sir kink. a slight breeding kink. some violence towards the end. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n. joel's and reader's pov.

a/n: buckle up, my friends. i apologise in advance, but this has been coming for the last two chapters lmao. who am i to deny them? no one. all interactions welcome! enjoy and thank you all for reading! <3

w/c: ~3k.

It had been a week since Joel almost lost his mind, and he still couldn’t comprehend what had possessed him to do such a thing. For a split second he had lost control of his own actions and gave in to his yearning. A yearning for human connection he did not know he had. The last few months had been living hell, to say the least.

Every time he closed his eyes to try and sleep, Joel could only see Sarah’s face. Her smile, her warm hugs, her giggles, her vivacity. And then, the light abandoning her eyes, her blank expression, her limp limbs as he would press her dearly against his chest. The desperation he felt then had still not deserted him. He had been a man of God because that was what his family had imparted him, but since Sarah’s death his faith was wavering. Why would God take her away from him? Sarah was an angel sent from above, she should have not suffered such demise. So, either God was a cruel entity, or an imaginary one.

That night Joel did not even attempt to get some rest so decided to do the first night shift instead. They were still at the same cave as it had proved to be a good spot to rest up and plan what their next steps would be. Tommy had suggested they checked out the quarantine zones the government had set up in big cities, but Joel was not so keen on the idea. In the last nine months since the outbreak, they had been witness to too many ungodly acts ― all committed by the living, not so many by the dead.

That was why they were in Ouachita National Forest, further north than what they were a few months ago. They were still debating whether they should head towards Kansas City, Chicago or remain in the wilderness. Although resources were scarcer, so were the clickers. They had not encountered too many people either, which, considering their past experiences, it was a good thing. No one could be trusted anymore.

Joel sat down on a tree stump by the entrance of the cave, rifle on hand. He had his worn-out, unbuttoned military jacket on as temperatures dropped considerably after sunset. The night was so quiet it felt eerie. He could not see anything when he looked up as the treetops fully covered the night sky. He assumed it would be a starry night, clear of clouds. He kept his mind occupied with made-up scenarios to avoid drifting away into Morpheus’ world.

Hours had gone by when Joel heard the slight twitch of a branch from behind him. He rapidly stood up, gripping the rifle with tension. When he turned around and saw you, he clicked his tongue with disdain.

You were too sleepy to pick up on his rude gesture. You stretched your back, which hurt like hell. You had tried to fashion some sort of cushioned bed with leaves and grass, but your makeshift bed was still hard as a rock.

“What time is it?”, you asked grumpily.

“Not sure, around four in the morning?”, he answered without looking at you while he sat back down.

“You have a wristwatch, don’t you know how to read the time?”, you said sneeringly to get some sort of reaction out of him.

“Huh, you’re so fucking funny I’d laugh if I could”, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “It’s broken”.

You looked at him in silence, as you had done many times in the last week. You didn’t understand how this man could kiss you like the world was ending and then, a second later, he would pretend you were nothing more than an annoying moth flying around him.

It infuriated you. He infuriated you.

He was there as if nothing had happened between the two of you, while you just woke up because of a very realistic dream. Or should you say a nightmare? Your body had some unreleased, built-up tension that was damn hard to ignore. You blamed Tommy for interrupting you ― had it not been for him, you might have known what it felt like to be under Joel. Or on top of him.

You shook your head, angry at yourself and at the man in front of you.

“Sure is, I bet they didn’t teach you how to read the time when you went to school, hmmm, when? Back in the 50s?”, you teased again.

He stood up, leaving the rifle on the ground, leaned against the stump.

“Seriously, what is your fucking problem?”, he growled, his fists tightly closed on his sides.

Finally ― a breakthrough.

“My problem?”, you chuckled. “You are my problem, Joel Miller. Are you telling me you have forgotten about what happened a week ago, huh?”, you ventured.

“What happened a week ago was a mistake, that is what it was. I don’t even know what kind of demon possessed me, because I wouldn’t even touch you with a ten-foot pole”, you could almost hear his teeth grinding against each other.

His words hurt you, but they made you even madder. Who did he think he was anyway?

“You are a fucking mistake. And what you say is complete bullshit. Do you think I have not noticed how you look at me when you believe I’m not paying attention? You pretend you are not interested, but you need a goddamn reality check if you really think so”, you snapped back, the palms of your hands tingling ― you wanted to punch him so bad.

“You are frigging delusional, darlin’. You are the only woman I have seen in the last few months, it’s not like I have much to choose from, do I? It was a desperate move, nothing else. Stop imagining things―”.

That was it. He had crossed a line. So you slapped him to shut him up. His rugged face turned ninety degrees with the force of your blow. His cheek reddened slightly.

And then you grabbed him by the neck of his flannel shirt, forcing down his face towards you so he would not have time to react. You were going to prove him who was right ― and it wasn’t him.

You kissed him, separating his lips with your tongue. You outlined his top teeth with the tip of your tongue and then he let you in. You would have smirked if you could. You mapped out his whole mouth with quick but insisting twirls, Joel following your lead. You helped him remove his jacket.

One of your hands was still holding onto his plaid shirt while the other travelled south. You could swear Joel had stopped breathing, but you distracted him by breaking the kiss and looking at him with intent. His lips were parted and wet with your spit, slightly red. You grazed the prominent bulge on his jeans with the palm of your hand, biting your bottom lip down when he heavily sighed with some relief before he trapped your mouth with his again.

You let go of the flannel shirt to work on the buckle of his belt, unfastening it with some difficulty. Joel groaned loudly when you pulled down from the brim of his jeans to bring them down just below his ass, giving you plenty of access. One of Joel’s hands darted to your neck, circling your throat with the span of his fingers and squeezing lightly. Not to the point where you couldn’t breathe, but to the point where it made the whole experience even more pleasurable.

You moaned while your hand trespassed the elastic of his underwear and dipped your fingers down. You grabbed his manhood, already hard and leaking from the tip. You smiled as your thumb rubbed the precum against his sensitive skin and then slowly started to pump him. You had not seen his cock yet, but judging by the girth of it, you were not to be disappointed. You put some pressure on his shaft before upping the rhythm of the pumps.

“Fuck it, fuck this”, Joel wailed as he broke off the kiss.

For a second, you thought he was going to push you away.

His mind was spinning like a Ferris wheel coming off its hinges. He was mad, utterly mad. He shouldn’t but wouldn’t stop. Not now when you had enticed him this far. His dick was pulsing in your hand, and he was panting like a thirsty dog which had not tasted water in days.

He grabbed your adventurous hand and forced you to take it out of his briefs. Then he pushed you towards a fallen tree nearby. Joel was right behind you, his manhood hard pressed against your ass as he bit your neck, then pecking it where he had marked you. He took off your shirt before you could complain. You wore no bra, so when the cold air touched your sensitive nipples, you sighed. Joel’s hands were resting on your hips, but both quickly moved upwards until they gently cupped both of your breasts. He massaged them with care while he left a path of kisses on the side of your neck.

Then his left hand ventured south at the same time he twirled your right nipple between his fingers. You whimpered audibly when he dunked two fingers in your wet slit. He traced you up and down, your knees trembling with delight. Your cunt was so soft with your own fluids that it felt like velvet. Joel wondered how it would taste if he flattened his tongue against the damp skin and fucked you with his tongue. He groaned at the thought, and instead he paid special attention to your clit with his dextrous fingers. Your back arched, your ass touching his bulge ― you unconsciously wiggled your hips to grind on his cock. Then he tested your entrance with one fingertip, circling it slowly, while your bottom lip was quivering.

“You want this?”, he said in a coarse voice.

You nodded.

“Speak up, sweetheart”, he demanded.

“Yes, please, sir”, you whispered.

You closed your eyes and suspired loudly when his ring finger got greedily engulfed by your dripping hole. He started slowly, then fingered you relentlessly with two digits, to the point where you had to grasp his wrist to steady yourself. He curved them towards the front of your insides, stroking the right spot. You couldn’t help but watch as his fingers disappeared between your soaked folds. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ before you let go and came violently on his fingers. But Joel gave you no truce, he carried on masturbating you until you orgasmed twice more in quick succession with tears in your eyes. Your cunt was gushing for him ― you could feel the trickle of your cum going down your inner thighs. Your knees bended and you almost fell to the floor, but Joel held you by your hips with the firm embrace of his right arm.

“Good girl”, he purred in your ear, offering you his wet left hand.

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist to hold it in place and sucked on his fingers with wanton need, his digits touching the back of your throat. You showed him explicitly what you would do to his throbbing dick if you had the chance. You licked him clean, tasting yourself on him.

Joel understood exactly what you were doing, feeling the tip of his cock touching his lower belly. He pushed down your trousers and underwear in one swift movement. Joel placed one hand on your back to make you go down on your knees. You kneeled on the ground, and he did so behind you. You put your hands down on the fallen trunk and looked over your shoulder for a minute. Joel had freed his dick, and he was holding it from the base. For a moment you wondered if it would fit, and you bit down your lip at the idea. You felt hypnotised by the sight, pondering how it would feel against your tongue, its glans pushing past your uvula, suffocating you.

“Lean forward for me, darlin’”, he muttered, and you happily obliged with dreamy eyes.

You rested your left cheek against the fallen log in between your hands, ass up in the air. You heard the rustling of leaves as Joel positioned himself right behind you. He placed his hands on your butt cheeks and cracked them open to have a peek. Joel groaned at such blissful picture. He could see your pussy literally throbbing for him, beckoning him like a siren a sailor. What a sight to see, he thought. With a pained huff, he let go of your buttocks and guided the tip of his dick to kiss your entrance. You hissed with pleasure. Finally, you thought. But he didn’t go in ― instead he trailed the tip of his cock along your slick cunt a few times.

“Joel, please, I beg―”.

“Shh”, he hummed at the exact time he went back down to your needy hole and pushed in his tip. Your flesh parted to make way. Your pussy was aching for him, burning to feel him inside. You have never felt this aroused in your life.

He took his sweet time, caressing your clit again as he went in inch by inch until his whole length was inside you. He stayed there for a long minute, letting you get used to him filling you up entirely. Your pussy choked his manhood at irregular intervals ― you just couldn’t control your own muscles anymore. It felt like heaven for both of you.

Then he moved back slowly, his shaft almost slipping out before he pushed back in with brute force. Joel freed your clit from his touch to grab your hips and started fucking you mercilessly. He found a devilish rhythm and you just went along with it. Both of your moans could be heard from yards away, as well as the squelching sounds coming from where you two connected ― luckily for you, Tommy slept like a log.

The roughness of the wood scratched the skin on your cheek, but you didn’t care. It felt too good. Your fingers clutched, trying to hold on to something as your body was being rocked by Joel’s thrusts, an orgasm creeping up on you. And then you came again, almost screaming into the dead of night, like you never came before. You could feel your whole cunt squeezing him uncontrollably, your clit burning with electricity. You felt extremely overstimulated, but you let Joel ride you to find his own release.

Joel’s eyes had rolled to the back of his head ― he had never felt this horny before. This damn woman ―you― was doing something to him, albeit he didn’t know what. He felt your inner walls tightened firmly around his cock and he almost lost it. Every time he locked eyes on where you two met, seeing his shiny dick pulling out of you, he thought you the most beautiful woman in the whole world.

His balls were so tense he feared he was going to spill his seed in you. But he found the last bit of sanity within him ― as much as he would love to claim you for himself, he couldn’t. And so, he pulled out just in time, lodging his shaft between your buttocks. He put his hands on each side of your ass to squeeze his manhood in the fold of your skin. He leaned forward, his chest against your back, to bite you between your shoulder blades before straightening himself again. Joel pumped himself a couple of times in between your buttocks and came on you abundantly. What a waste, you thought out of nowhere.

Both of you stayed in the same exact position for a hot minute, breathing heavily with effort. You were the first one to move, although your limbs felt like jelly. You grabbed some leaves and cleaned the cum off your lower back as Joel watched you avidly.

Joel stood up and pulled up his briefs and jeans, while his mind was racing with doubt. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have let it go this far. What was meant to be a lesson for you, ended up being a lesson for himself too. Concealing his concern, he offered a hand to help you get up. You gladly took it and proceeded to clothe yourself again, being fully conscious of Joel’s hungry gaze.

You smiled at him.

“That was fun―”.

“A mistake”, he cut you off before you could say anything else.

You were left speechless. What did he just say?

“Are you fucking shitting me right now, Joel?”, you shouted at him. “Because if you are joking, I swear to God I will―”, your anger was raising up fast.

“No, I ain’t joking, we shouldn’t have done this. You don’t understand, I’ll just get you k―”.

“JOEL!”, you screamed at the top of your lungs when you suddenly saw a man a few yards behind him.

Before Joel could grab the rifle, a gunshot was heard and impacted on Joel’s right shoulder. He fell to the ground in agony, and you hastened to kneel beside him. Blood was quickly soaking his flannel shirt.

“No, Joel, please―”, then you felt someone pulling your hair back and yelled in pain. “Let go of me, you jerk!”. It was a different man.

The first man who had shot at Joel came towards you. Joel tried to sit up to fight back, but the man with the gun hit him in the head with the grip of the weapon and Joel fell back down on the dirt.

He was not moving. Was he dead? No, he couldn’t be. You felt the bile rise up in your throat but managed to hold it.

“Joel, Joel―”, you said with tears running down your cheeks.

“Shut up, bitch”, said the second man before slapping you.

You fought them back with all you had, but in the end, they hit you in the head too, rendering you unconscious, and dragging you away.

[rainyorca]

Flowers Don’t Bloom In Winter ❀ Logan Howlett x Reader

Content Warnings: F!reader, angst/no comfort, character death, kissing/make out, implied smut, mild gore, strangers to friends to lovers.

Summary: “Are you scared?” he asks, voice low but there's genuine curiosity in the gentle cadence of his voice. Your eyes meet his. “You could never scare me.” 

You'll wilt, all flowers die. But he'll bloom again.

Notes: I’ve been a wolvie fan since i was suppperrr young and I am so glad him (and hugh) are getting attention again. This is my second-ish time writing for him, I just got done rewatching the movies for the first time in a while so hopefully I did him a little justice. His hair in origins will forever be my favorite but in this you can think of him from any movie, there is no set one, no set timeline wolvie.

Words: 6,121

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

You're not a weapon. 

You’re more human than everyone else.

Human was a funny word, to Logan at least. Being human meant a lot of things, mutant wasn’t one of them. Stuck as a mutant with the heart for a human, what a tragedy. Actually, did he even have a heart? Oftentimes he would spend nights trying to find his own heartbeat, a hand laying on his chest while he stared up at the ceiling. 

When he met you he wondered if you knew what he was, the way you stared at him when he came in and sat down at the bar made him curious. Most don't know, he looks normal on the outside, so how would you know? But he did have a hard time keeping his eyes off you too, you smelled human but there was something so sweet about your scent, it made you different from others. 

Wisteria, sandalwood, jasmine and maybe a hint of vanilla, he couldn't really pinpoint what you smelled like (however it reminded him of forests, nature, his old home) all he knew was that he wanted the scent to last forever, like a candle he could buy over and over again. He would only watch the stage when you got up there and when you're done, he would be too. 

You came to the bar shortly after to get yourself a drink, your eyes resembled a rabbit’s; innocence and beauty all in one, and they immediately found him. There was something else in your eyes, deep within like you were trying to figure him out. When you got closer to him your scent got stronger, so strong it was almost overwhelming. No human has ever had that effect on him before, at least not enough to make him physically react like he did, squeezing his glass a little tighter. 

“Hello,” you smiled brightly, like a blooming flower, voice gentle whilst you greeted him. 

“You must be new, I haven't seen you at the bar before.” 

“Just figured I’d try out a new place,” he responds, an attempt to try and be friendly despite his intimidating looks. You smile again, swallowing down the remains of your liquor and then putting the dish in the sink. “Glad you came to us,” your eyes travel down to his somewhat empty glass, “you want another?” 

Your kindness was obvious, but no one that kind is ever really okay. There was something off about you, something deep down was bothering you or maybe you just had some other problem he couldn't figure out. You're kind but in a calming way, not overwhelming. What's the word? Tranquil? That's what he thought of you. 

You knew Logan wasn’t human when you first met him. He looked human just like a majority of the rest of the mutants but you had a keen eye for finding them. It was a talent to some people, being able to point out who was ‘real’ and who was not. Logan was no exception, you could practically see that mutant blood underneath his thick skin as if you had x-ray vision. 

A human trying to befriend a mutant, what an odd thing to most of the world. You should be scared of him. People would say, many warning you to beware the mutants, stay away from the entities wearing human skin. He's only going to hurt you, stay away from him. 

Logan wasn’t an entity, he had a human heart just like the rest of them. But to you, he was a little more human than the others. To you, he looked like a winter flower, strong and capable of handling whatever comes its way, but flowers don't bloom in winter. He was too good to be true. 

You don’t really remember the details of how you met Logan (besides making small talk that first time), but what always stays in your head is what happened a few months later upon meeting him. 

There was a little dispute in the parking lot of your job. Being a dancer doesn't mean you do all the hard work at your job, that's up to the servers and bartenders. But of course you were always the one to go clean up after people. Your coworkers assigned you the role after you broke up a bar fight on your first night, so all the dirty work (dealing with rude customers or fights in and out of the bar) was left up to you. 

Kill them with kindness is an extremely real and full proof method, people find your kindness a little off putting (though you are unsure why). You don’t know what the guys were fighting about but it got messy quickly, they both started swinging at each other and when you tried to split it up suddenly you were the problem. 

Pushing you up against the car, threatening you instead of each other. Your coworkers who were once watching from afar were now safely back inside. You braced yourself for some hits, maybe you would get a cool scar out of the situation, a story to tell to your future children (if you even had any). But all that confidence from before was dropped as soon as the guy got on his knees, grabbing your injured face as you leaned lethargically against the car, making you look at him.

Your bare legs hurt on the asphalt, rocks digging into the softness of your skin, leaving marks. He held a knife up to your ribs, pressing and pressing until you felt a sharpness, the tip of the blade digging into your flesh. The other guy had run off, probably took his chance and instead let you take the beatings. 

You remember him getting ready to stand up, his face getting closer to you while he continued to threaten you, that was until he went silent. There was the sound of flesh ripping, or a knife sheathing you weren’t really sure. Blood splatters onto your face, the only thing you could hear was gurgling and a gruesome choking sound from the man. Slowly opening your blurry eyes, the sight in front of you almost made you scream if your throat wasn't so dry. 

The man had been silenced, three blades stuck out the front of his face, the tips of them so close to yours you could feel them poking into your skin. A shaky gasp escapes your lips when you see him move, his body lifting up. Standing behind him, the man's blood spilling onto his knuckles, was Logan (Haemanthus, in that moment). 

The look of fear on your face was clear in the dark, Logan could see it, hell he could probably smell it. You watch him toss the limp body aside and then he crouches down in front of you. Flinching away, you watch those metal claws slide back into his knuckles, the openings they tear closing almost immediately. Then he cups your face with that same, blood soaked hand, trying to wipe the blood that had splattered onto your face (useless, he was only smearing it). 

That was the first time you ever saw Logan use his powers and it was to protect you. What you should’ve done is run, call the cops or something but instead you stayed, you stayed in front of him, letting him pick you up and carry you back into your job. 

Humans are curious creatures, thirsting for an explanation of something they don't understand, even if that explanation could kill them. So, after that, you would stay after hours on your job, as long as he was there. After you got done closing you would ask him to show you, show you his claws so you could feel them, look at them. Maybe even worship them if you were that kind of person. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask, trailing your fingers up the blades. “When they come out?” 

“Every time,” he responds, watching you intently, no one has ever seemed to show this much curiosity over his claws, at least no human has. 

“There’s something sort of humbling about them,” you speak slowly, looking at your reflection on the blades, “the fact that you could so easily kill me, kill anyone, yet you choose not to.” 

Your fingers trail back down the blades until you stop at his wrist, wrapping your hand around it to feel them when they return into his body. You could feel his muscles move every time his bones shift to allow the metal to escape the cavity of his arm. His eyes stay locked on your face, watching every tiny change in expression. 

“Are you scared?” he asks, voice low but there's genuine curiosity in the gentle cadence of his voice. 

Your eyes meet his. “You could never scare me.” 

It was hard to say whether you really liked Logan after what happened, a part of you knows what he did was illegal, but he did it to protect you, maybe you could rule it out as self defense if the cops come searching. You took an interest in him honestly, this was your first time getting to know a mutant, your first time being saved by one too. 

But there was a part of you that wanted to protect him, keep him safe and out of harm from humans and mutants alike. Logan is stubborn but not as stubborn as you. You would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant risking your own life, although he argues that you shouldn't do anything like that for him. Humans are much more fragile, at least that's what he would say to you. He compared you to a flower, prone to breaking, prone to destruction. He feared that he wouldn't be able to keep you safe. 

It's strange, just a few months into this little friendship and you already feel this instinct to take care of him, to nurture him, treat him like he's the most perfect piece of art in the whole world, and also the most breakable. Like he's the most precious, rarest flower you’ve ever seen. The type that you discovered, not some random traveler. Even a few months in he allows you to meet all the other mutants, the ones he calls his family. You hit it off with Storm pretty quick, she knew how to be your voice of reason, your help when it comes to figuring out your feelings for Logan. 

You also enjoyed staying at the mansion, being able to interact with all the students. This place was wonderful to you, but you didn't like having to stay behind when Logan went on missions. 

Every time you watch him walk out that door you feel like you're left with nothing but desperation, the desire, the need to go with him. All you want to do is help him. But you were also left with fear, strangely enough. No matter how many times he came back, everytime he left it felt like he was never gonna come back. They’re just missions, he’ll be back soon. That's what you always told yourself.

You don't know why you cared so much, you two weren't even dating. But you don't really know what to call the relationship you two had, you were much closer than just regular friends. Yearning was never your thing until you met him. Usually you try to avoid relationships, your fears always making it hard for you to stay with someone. 

I wanna be a part of you. 

You would tell him. Always touching him, that was your thing. He liked that about you, that you felt safe around him, comfortable enough to always be touching him, a hand constantly on his shoulder or fingers wrapped around his wrist. It was something you did every time you were with him, even if you were safe from harm. 

His most favorite thing was that scent of yours, it drove him crazy in all the good ways. He could tell when you had just been in a room and he could follow your scent out of that room if he so pleased. He remembers the first time Charles talked about you after you had left the room just a few minutes before he arrived. 

“She's quite a unique one,” he says, watching Logan adjust to your scent filling the room, “isn't scared of mutants, believes we are all equal. I'm glad you found her, Logan.”

“Yeah well, I knew she’d be good here,” Logan responds, leaning against the wall. Charles is quiet, but there's a growing smirk on his face. “What?” he asks a bit harshly.

“You like her,” Charles says, “I don't have to read your mind to tell.”

“Yeah well a mutant and a human won't really work out, so forget it,” Logan grumbles, pushing through the doors and leaving the room before Charles could protest.

The dynamic was weird (for a pair that wasn't dating), but considerably normal to the other mutants. Many seek him out for protection too, he's just the type of guy you gravitate to, despite that grumpy face and angry attitude. You know that's not who he is on the inside, he's much more gentle than what others seem to think about him (Hibiscus, a delicate beauty, Gypsophilia, pure of heart).

When Logan was out on missions, you would spend your time distracting yourself with flower hunting or spending money on bouquets just to make you happy. You would leave them around the mansion, around your work. 

You love seeing him in the audience when he returns, usually sitting at the bar. He leans against it, facing the stage, eyes only on you (Sweet daffodil, you're my only one. The sun shines when I'm with you). When you were done for the night you would run to him, wrapping your arms around him, finding so much comfort in those large arms. 

You imagine Logan would be a kind lover, gentle and caring. The type to freak out if he accidentally hurt you. The type to sit you on his lap during dinner even if there was a chair for you. You know he would take care of you, he's said it a million times before. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he says softly one night after you get off work. You're standing behind the bar, watching him drink the last of the whiskey. 

“You can't be near me all the time,” you hum, teasingly, unaware of his seriousness. You figured it was just him being a little flirty. 

“I can if I want to,” he responds, his smile often a little rare to see but present in this moment. 

He made it very hard for you to try and hide your flusteredness. Logan can be very flirty, more unintentionally than not. In all honesty, maybe you did want him, wanted to be with him. For once you can see a future with someone, something rare for you (usually trying not to look ahead). You could see the future where you live in a cabin with him, somewhere in the woods, probably in Canada or somewhere cold. He would get a normal job, you would make him breakfast and then kiss him goodbye before heading to your own job. Maybe it was a sad, pathetic thing to think about at night but you couldn't help yourself, it was the life you always wanted and you finally found someone to have that life with. 

The day you really realized it, was when he came back from a longer mission, longer than usual. For once you didn't work that week, taking a break to give the new dancer a chance to earn some money. You spent that week cleaning your place, organizing, doing the things you didn't usually have time for. That's when you received a call from the mansion, Ororo had called you, letting you know Logan was back. 

You’ve never driven so fast in your life, that long trip turns into a few quick minutes. The snow didn't stop you, instead it only made your adrenaline spike, your excitement. You practically slipped when you got out of the car, running to the front door of the mansion. 

When it opened to his handsome face you felt a tingle in your spine, electricity coursing through your veins. He starts to walk forward, snow starting to stick to his dark hair, his arms open waiting to catch you. 

In that moment, when you ran into his arms, feeling them wrap around you again and cover you in that familiar warmth, that familiar scent, you felt something more. More than fasciation, more than adoration, you felt love (A blooming orchid). 

“Miss me?” he asks with a smile when you pull away, your arms still wrapped around his neck. He sets you carefully back down on your feet.

“Always,” you breathe, tears pricking at your eyes. You don't know why you felt like crying, you blamed it on the fact of how much you missed him, or maybe you were just incredibly overwhelmed. 

You knew the problems with wanting to be with Logan. The major one you realized while rewatching Twilight (Ironic given your situation, Edward a vampire, Bella a human. You a human, Logan a mutant). Logan is practically immortal, honestly you don’t even know how old he is now. You’ll grow old, eventually succumb to your age or maybe even a sickness if you're lucky. Logan will still be living, just older, a little more grumpy. 

You’ll wilt, all flowers die. But he’ll bloom again.

But unlike Twilight, you won’t get your happy ending. Logan can’t bite you and turn you into a mutant like Edward does with Bella. His fangs are dulled, they don’t secrete any special type of life changing liquid. 

Unfortunately you’ll be human forever. What a curse it is to be human or to be living at all. 

… 

The first time you and Logan kissed was outside his place, surrounded by nothing but trees, fresh snow falling to the ground and sticking to your hair. You had embarrassingly fallen on your ass walking up to his house, he quickly rushed out to help you up, dusting you off and asking if you were okay. But when he picked you up you never let go, keeping your arms wrapped around his neck while he held you on your own two feet. There was that buzz in the air, the flutter right before a kiss, that tingly feeling in your spine knowing it’s going to happen. 

And when his lips graze over yours you practically shove his head down to kiss him, pressing your lips against his without even considering the situation. To your surprise, he kisses you back, wrapping his arms around you a little tighter and lifting you up so your legs wrap around his waist. 

It was like something out of a movie, just missing a mushy love song. You wished you could hold that kiss forever but your lips would get sore and you would probably get frostbite. 

When you pulled away he stared at you, eyes piercing into yours before he freed one of his hands. His fingers curl around the chain of his dog tags, and then he pulls them up and over his head.

Then he puts them around your neck, the jingle of them coming to rest on your collar bones makes you shudder, but from warmth, excitement. 

You hide them under your shirt most of the time, always toying with them to make sure they are still safely around your neck. It’s like he transported his warmth with them because they were always warm no matter how cold it was outside. 

Sometimes, if you see him before he leaves somewhere, he’d press a hand to where they hang, rough palm warm against your chest. It was like his little special way of saying goodbye, just in case he didn’t return (which you hated to think about). 

Logan eventually gave you the spare key to his place, allowing you to visit whenever you so pleased. And when he was gone sometimes you would curl up in his bed, inhaling his scent and usually getting the best sleep of your life. His scent brought you comfort, you always wanted to be surrounded by it, drowning in it. 

On occasion but rarely, he would come home to you still in his bed, buried under the covers and sleeping soundly. He’d pull the blanket back gently to see your face, sit down on the edge of the bed and stare at you while he waited for you to wake up. 

But usually you would be gone, his bed would be empty but he would always know you were there. Your scent would seep into sheets, the mattress drinking up your smell. He could smell you, like you were still present (Soft jasmine, beautiful wisteria).

Now the first time you two ever slept together was at his place of course, you were slumped from work, muscles aching, head throbbing. You’ve never been this tired before. You push through the door, unlocked as usual when he’s home. He’s already in bed when you're there, awake but he looks just as tired as you. He sits up when he sees you, turning on the lamp so you can see. You don't even say anything, instead you just drop your things by the doorway, tugging your shirt off over your head letting it pool on the ground. 

He doesn’t seem to care, instead he just watches you as you curl into bed next to him. “Rough day?” He asks a few moments later, turning the lamp off. 

“Don’t even get me started,” you mumble back, voice muffled by his pillow. You can already feel yourself relaxing, his scent like a calming drug (the smell of peaceful lavender).

He doesn’t hesitate, he turns to his side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. You let out a sigh, melting into his warmth. It started out as a normal night, sleep coming to you quickly. But it wasn’t until you felt Logan stirr, moving a little in his sleep. He lets out a quiet grumble, and then a louder one. 

Then you feel a sharp pain, agonizing, stinging, right in the back of your shoulder. You let out a yelp, jolting up, your movements pulling whatever it was out of your flesh. You look back, reaching a shaking hand back to feel the wounds. “Damn,” you groan when you see blood on your hand, Logan’s claws unsheathed, the tips covered in your blood. You can feel the warmth travel down your back, the sight of the blood trickling down your back and staining the sheets makes you feel dizzy.

Logan stirrs again, sniffing the air, eyes fluttering open at the scent of your blood. He acts as soon as his eyes land on your back, fear and worry clouding his head. “Fuck,” he curses, “fuck, fuck.” 

“I’m okay, I’m fine.” You breathe through clenched teeth, getting up to go to the bathroom. He quickly picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you on the bathroom sink, maneuvering around you so he could clean your wounds. You open your eyes, staring at his face. He’s focused, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted as he continues to wipe the blood from your open wounds before finally getting them to stop bleeding. You watch as he slowly starts to wrap you up with the gauze and bandages. 

You reach up, softly cupping his face with your free hand, making him halt his actions. His eyes meet yours, your reflection so visible in his pupils. Unsure of how long you stared into his eyes, he had somehow finished wrapping you up without taking his eyes off you. You could feel yourself inching closer, getting closer and closer to his face until you can feel his breath. His lips graze over yours and you flinch back, as if you haven’t kissed him before. It’s been a few months come to think of it, but still you shouldn’t be nervous. 

Logan just has that effect on you. It only takes a few seconds until your lips meet, kissing him gently, your fingers finding their way to the nape of his neck. Fingertips brush the shore of his hair, almost like an invitation. 

And he takes it, kissing you with a little more vigor. His bloodied hand comes up to your face, smearing a little bit of your blood on your cheek. He’s careful with his movements, gripping your waist with his other hand to keep you up on the sink, to steady you. His kisses are starting to get more aggressive, pressing you a bit further back onto the sink.To make sure you don’t slip in, he reaches underneath you, his large hand coming to rest on your ass as he holds you still. 

You can feel that familiar heat start to pool between your thighs, and he can feel it too, or in other words smell it. Your legs clench around him, squeezing as if you're trying to pull him into you. He frees his hand from underneath you, feeling up the bare skin of your waist, his rough fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours while he stares down at your semi-bare body, debating on unclipping your bra to feel you more. His breathing is rushed but even, mouth open. 

“Logan,” you breathe, coming out more as a desperate plea. He hums, pressing your lips together again, open mouth kisses, tilting his head for better movement and access. There’s a thin string of saliva that keeps your mouths connected when he pulls away. 

He can see it in your eyes, the desperation, not only that but he could smell it too. Your scent was strong, if he got closer to your core it would be overwhelming, and he's not sure he’d be able to stop what he's started.. “You’re hurt,” he says quietly, “I don’t wanna hurt you anymore than you already are,.” 

“You won’t,” you respond, a smile on your kiss bitten lips, “Logan, please.” He kisses you again, slower and softer this time. “I can't,” he whispers against your lips, keeping them close even after pulling away again. 

“Why not?” you speak softly, scratching his scalp with your nails. He hesitates, his thumb rubbing your cheek. “You know why.” He smiles, gentle and small before licking his thumb and wiping the small amount of blood off your face. “C’mon,” he mutters, lifting you off the sink. 

… 

Logan gave you all kinds of nicknames but your most favorite came from you showing up to his place with flowers. You loved orchids, always have so you bought a small bouquet of them to put on his coffee table. He accepted gracefully, and then from then on he started calling you by that name. A simple nickname but it was lovely.

 Orchid, my little orchid. A nickname uniquely your own (Orchids, love, beauty).

It wasn’t long before you two had officially agreed to being in a relationship, having a label. And not long after that you decided to move in with him, a bold move but you spend more time at his place than yours anyways. At night the moon will shine through the windows, lighting up the room with its cool toned glow. You’ll lay your head on Logan’s shoulder, your hand resting on his chest. You’ll both lie awake in silence while you draw circles on his chest with your finger. 

Some nights you’ll sit on his lap while his back rests against the headboard, your hands cupping his face. On occasion, you’ll run your thumb over his bottom lip until he parts them for you, then you’ll feel his abnormally sharp canines, his fangs. You test them, pressing the pad of your thumb into the sharp point to see if it’ll make you bleed but he always stops you before you ever do. When you're asleep he’ll stare at your face till morning, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek. He stares at his dog tags around your neck, always warm from your body heat and always safe. 

He admires your beauty, especially when the sunlight hits you just right. When you're hiking in that tank top and whatever pants you decided to wear that day, he stares at your backside, your silhouetted figure. And when you bend over to tie your shoe, looking back at him with a smile, his eyes not only fixate on your face, but your scars. The scars he left engraved on your skin. 

The scars you admired, the scars that comfort you, a reminder of him always. 

It’s past 11 pm, you’ve been in the bath for almost an hour now, the water starting to get cold. The room is dark, only lightened by the light seeping through the open bathroom door. You lean back, head resting on the edge of the tub, fingers toying with Logan’s dog tags.

The familiar sound of the front door opening echoes through the silent bathroom, Logan's heavy footsteps can be heard walking around, like he's looking for you. You slide down further into the bath, trying to hide yourself playfully, peaking over the edge while you wait for him. That's when he peeks into the bathroom, a smile creeps over his face when he sees you.

“Hi, gorgeous.” he says in that comforting gruff voice. He crouches down by the side of the tub, dipping his hand into the warm water. “Hi.” You smile, sitting up and resting your head on your hands, holding onto the edge of the tub. He brings a hand up to caress your face, gently rubbing the warm skin of your cheek. 

“What did you do today?” you ask, watching him reach for the loofa and dip it in the water. He grabs your arm gently, rubbing your skin softly with the item. “The usual,” he responds, staring at the suds on your skin while they wash away. You hum, sitting back in the tub again, making him let go of you and get further. “C’mere,” you beckon, tapping the edge of the bathtub. He complies, getting up and sitting down on the edge. He leans down so he could be close to your face. 

“I was thinking about you today,” he says softly, cupping your face, “I always am.” Smiling a little wider, you reach up with both hands, grabbing his face and pulling him down to kiss him. He kisses you back, much to your pleasure. You're quick to part your lips, giving him access to use his tongue. 

It's an aggressive kiss, open mouthed and borderline messy. He pulls away to say something but you block it out, too focused on the feeling of his lips to even notice. You try to pull him back down and you successfully do, he doesn't put up a fight or anything. The kiss becomes more vigorous, more violent but so passionate.

He slips, falling into the tub fully clothed, making the water rise and spill out over the sides. You laugh softly in which he responds with a small laugh too. He’s laying on your side, face inches away from you and just a little lower as he allows himself to slip into the bath more comfortably. Your lips graze over his again, his smile fades as he kisses you and then pulls away. 

You adjust your trapped arm behind his head, scratching his scalp as he gets closer and closer. Then he kisses you again, leaning his whole body forward and cupping your face with a wet hand once again. You close your eyes, but he opens his just slightly while his lips slowly slot against yours. Open mouth on open mouth, his lips never leaving yours. The only noise that fills the space is the quiet sound of water sloshing, soft breaths from the both of you while you kiss until practically sucking the oxygen from each other. 

Pressing his lips against yours a little rougher now, he eases on top of you. Your hands travel up and down his flanks and back, feeling him through his soaked clothes tight against his skin until you tug and pull at the bottom of his shirt. He sits back, breaking the kiss for once and taking his shirt off, immediately returning to your lips. A gasp escapes your mouth when you feel him press his hips against yours, his cock clearly wanting to be freed from the prison of his jeans. He can smell your arousal, your need for him. His lips move down your jaw and to your neck, kissing at the supple area while he struggles to grind against you. His fangs graze over your skin, making your body shudder at the feeling. 

Water spills out the tub with every erratic movement, but you can feel the warmth returning. He uses his other hand to hold the dip in your spine, making your back arch by habit, by command almost. Your eyes go all hazy and the more he presses his bare skin into yours you swear you feel like you're melting into his body. 

“I love you,” he whispers, into your neck. 

…

You loved flowers, always have. You loved what they represent depending on what type they were, you loved how colorful they usually work, how unique they are. You loved how they bloom again even after death, even after they've wilted and lost all their color. The petals turned into something wrinkled and rough, unlike their usual clear, softness. 

Even after they die, they still bloom again in springtime. Daisy, lavender, day lily, aster, they all bloom again. Flowers don’t mourn the dead, they respect it, embrace it. They become one with the dead, seeping into the ground and back into the earth in which a person is buried. 

To him, you were a flower. Delicate and soft, something he wanted to protect, to see everyday. Your color, he couldn't quite describe it but it was uniquely your own. Over 10 million colors and somehow when he sees you  and it's something separate from the million to choose from. When he thinks of you, that's the color he sees. When he thinks of you, he sees an orchid. 

But is a flower still a flower after all its petals have been ripped off, gored and left to rot and wilt on the ground. Is a flower still a flower after it's been torn out of the ground, roots ripped, its purpose gone?

You think of all the times you’ve woken up beside him, smiling when he opens his eyes, murmuring a soft “good morning” as he reaches up to touch your face. You remember the times where he would soothe you on your tough days, running a bath for you and gently rubbing the loofa on your skin. So many good moments, very few bad ones. 

Words of affirmation weren't your love language, at least not usually. But Logan had another super power, and it was exactly that. He knew what to say and how to say it at all the right moments. He was a generous lover, attentive, caring, when you were with him you felt like yourself. 

“Winter came early this year,” you hum, clutching the white orchids in your gloved hands, “my first one without you.” 

“I keep buying orchids for you, whenever I have the time. But even when I don’t you're always on my mind.”

You go silent, tears starting to bubble up in your eyes. “I just- I-” you stutter, voice breaking as you grip the flowers a little tighter. You fall to your knees, snow wetting your pants while your tears run down your face. Your sobs slowly pick up in volume every time you try to speak, only to get choked up and give up. “I just wanna see you,” you sob, pressing your face into the snow below, “I just want to see you.” 

You drag yourself further up the ground until you're met with the headstone, Logan’s name engraved on it, freezing to the touch. You press the flowers into the snow, laying down on top of them while your hands move to clutch his dog tags tightly around your neck. The snow and soil drink up your tears, and you can only hope they reach him.

 He was a flower, a dangerous one on the outside but oh so beautiful on the inside. But you seemed to forget one thing. 

Flowers don't bloom in winter.

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

I don't know flowers that well so forgive me flower fans ahaha

[lesinquietes]

Summary: Stoker never gave any indication that his story was real. Besides, even if it was based on true accounts, what are the odds that a Transylvanian vampire has somehow found his way into your house? Then again, what were the odds that you would move into a rural home with a resident nightstalker at all?

Pairing: Yandere!Alucard x AFAB!Reader

Warning: 18+ (minors, don't interact), angst, dark content, horror, misogyny (a sprinkle), sexual themes, violence

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ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

a lot of alu x reader interaction here that I’m proud of :’) he’s getting more n more smitten by her — maybe it’ll be his undoing?

The Basement's Monster III

After Ericson and Cree check the basement, there’s peace in the house for another few weeks. The weather gets crisper. There’s a bite in the frosty air. The region’s first snowfall occurs on December 11th.

You focus on work and research. In the daytime, you do your job and earn the money you need to survive. At night, you study vampirism and its deterrents, searching for any piece of info that proposes absolution.

Cognizant of what's dwelling beneath you, your guard never lowers. From experience, you know he attacks in waves. Your theory is that he garners strength between his physical disruptions by resting. He can only manifest when he's manifested enough power. He’s weak, and that’s what’s been sparing you from the full brunt of his wrath. The question is, when will he be rejuvenated permanently?

Bram Stoker’s Dracula teaches you a lot. It context is what prompts you to study Romanian lore. Fascinatingly, exploring Slavic texts is what leads you to recognize the language in your dream. Although you don’t recall what the sign said, you noticed the characters you found on the Internet appeared to mimic what you saw. The vampire must be tied to Romania.

In the fictional novel, Dracula is a nobleman from that country. He's also the main antagonist of the story, and winds up slaying multiple innocent people; all while remaining elusive to the great Van Helsing and the naive Jonathan Harker. Is this— no. Stoker never gave any indication that his story was real. Besides, even if it was based on true accounts, what are the odds that a Transylvanian vampire has somehow found his way into your house?

Then again, what were the odds that you would move into a rural home with a resident nightstalker at all?

You recount the novel's plot. Jonathan Harker sets out with the intention to aid a man wishing to immigrate. England is heralded as a land with vast opportunity and an air of peacefulness. Count Dracula emphasized his desire to integrate into its wealth of culture. Jonathan visits his castle and notices several strange things about both the mighty building and the Count. Eventually, he happens across Dracula’s harem of brides, and just as he’s about to be finitely drained, he escapes. He awakens in a hospital, unable to contact friends or family until much later. By that time his nemesis has already fled on a ship destined for English shores.

You swallow. Allegedly, this is just a tale. But perhaps the book was his way of warning humanity about the horrors lurking in dense forests, old castles, and rickety passage ships. How would the monster react if you called him by his ancient alias?

Cree doesn't believe the creature is a vampire at all; on the contrary, he thinks it's a type of witch. In his tribe, kinfolk have shared experiences with an entity which could torment the living and shapeshift. He declined to spill any other details, including identifying information, for fear that it would summon the monster. You haven't been able to find anything else on the concept. Most Indigenous folks who replied to curious discussion threads posited that these tales are forbidden to be disclosed to outsiders.

Whether you have a name for it or not, you can be positive of what you went through. Disembodied voices and footsteps ease the anxious part of you that wishes to gaslight. What you heard and saw were real. You know this because Cree heard the noises in Nelly's room, as well; spectral sobbing can't be brushed off as a mere coincidence.

You close your laptop with a laborious sigh. It’s half past noon. You should get something to eat.

You leave your bedroom and rush downstairs. It’s quiet today. You don't recall the last time everyone was home together. Nelly works weekdays. Cree works evenings and weekends.

You reach the bottom landing and stride toward the kitchen. In the doorway, you grind to a halt. Ericson is sitting near the window, nursing a cup of coffee. She’s staring at the grandiose yard. The leaves have fallen off the trees by now. Winter has arrived, and the landscape doesn’t look much different than the one in your nightmare. There's a light dusting of snow on the ground, with more forecasted to roll in over the weekend.

The sensation you get is peculiar. It's thick, immediate, and uncomfortable. You feel like you should run.

As it on cue, the brunette notices you in the window's reflection. Craning her neck, she offers a short smile and a thin greeting. It's precisely what you were expecting.

"Hey."

You return her gesture, uneasy.

"Hey, E."

You linger momentarily. She must be in a poor mood. There's no other purpose for the energy she's exuding.

Robotically, you tread over to the kitchen counter, intent on fixing yourself a meal. You don't speak while you gather the ingredients. Her pupils bore into you, burning through your form as she observes your actions. You can tell there's something she wants to say. It emerges when you're grabbing a box from the cupboard.

"Sleep well last night?"

You pause mid reach. The question seems obscure. She seldom asks about your rest. She's not much for small talk unless she's trying to sus you out.

"Yeah." You regard her over your shoulder. "You?"

There are dark circles under her eyes. Her hair is messy and tangled. It looks like she hasn't gotten the chance to wash up just, having dragged herself out of bed recently.

"No."

You stop arranging your lunch to give her your undivided attention. There's something wrong; you can sense it from her tone. The look she's casting you isn't too friendly, either.

"Are you okay?"

“I heard you stomping around all night.”

You're taken aback. That's impossible. You were in bed by eleven o'clock. You only got up once to use the washroom.

“Me?”

"Well, the pacing was right outside your door, so I figured it was you."

This is not the news you wanted to hear. You're freaking out. You thought things were quiet because he retreated to draw strength; you had no idea he was still lurking around your home, hovering just beneath your conscious awareness.

“I wasn’t pacing.” You insist. “I was asleep.”

Ericson casts you an incredulous stare.

“Really.”

“I’m serious!”

You don’t know what you can do to convince her. There’s no one who can corroborate your side of the story. All you have is your word... oh!

“Wait.”

You take your phone out of your pocket. There’s the messages you sent Cree last night. You both turned in at the same time. You don’t know if he got to sleep afterwards, but you did. It doesn’t guarantee that you didn’t get up in the following hours, but it’s something.

“Look.”

You twist your screen around and walk over to show her the evidence. She squints.

She takes her time scrolling through. Cree might be able to attest later on, if that’ll help absolve you and ease her temper. You know what it’s like to be kept up; you’d be pissed, too. But you’re not who she should be directing her blame towards.

When she nods, you pull the device back. She stares through you for a minute. She comes to before long, fixating on your visage again. Gently, she mumbles.

“It wasn’t you?”

“No.” You shake your head to underscore your innocence. “I swear.”

She hums nervously, shifting her gaze. She wears an anxious expression. The colour has vacated her cheeks, accentuating her horror. You thought she wasn’t going to believe you, but it appears there are other notions playing through her head.

“E.” You grasp her forearm. “You okay?”

Taking time to collect herself, she doesn’t answer you. She's preoccupied, wondering how she’s going to explain the events of last night. You extend patience with adamancy.

“Ana.” You evoke her, using her first name as a last ditch effort to activate her. “Tell me what happened.”

Shockingly, it's effective.

“I heard someone walking around in the hallway above.” She mutters mechanically. “Back and forth, back and forth.”

Her glare, lowered, carries significant distress. Her lips quiver when she pauses between sentences. The retelling of this event is difficult for her. You suppose it’s because the existence of supernatural creatures explicitly challenges her core beliefs. You don’t blame her for grappling with that. Hell, you’re still coming around to the concept of a vampire cohabitating with you. Imagine if she knew what he truly was.

“It didn’t really bother me. I couldn’t get to sleep last night ‘cause I was wired on coffee, so I was just texting a friend. But then…”

She gulps. Now, both of you understand the terror of being at the mercy of this monster. It feels surreal to share this experience with another person.

“I heard someone come downstairs. And I didn’t hear anything else until—“

Tears form in her doe-like orbs. Miraculously, they don’t fall; her pride doesn’t let them. You rush over to wrap her into a tight embrace, anyway. Your compassion opens the floodgates.

“—until my door handle moved.”

Ericson sobs in your arms. She’s taking this hard. As she did for you, so will you do for her. You console her petrified spirit.

“This is the shit I was talking about.” You remind her, rubbing her back gingerly. “Weird sounds, seeing things — you’re not insane.”

In a twisted way, it feels good to clear your name. It’s different than when you and Cree heard the same noises in Nelly’s closet, though; unlike him, Ericson was victimized by the devious cryptid. Your mixed feelings are amplified as you cradle her vibrating form.

Finally, she pulls back to finish her tale. Her voice cracks and shatters the composure she's built. All you can do is clasp her arms, hoping it's enough to stabilize her.

“I pretended to be asleep until it stopped knocking, but I was so fucking creeped out.” Her brown orbs make contact with yours. “And now that you’re telling me it wasn’t you, I’m like, what the fuck?”

She must have thought you were playing a prank, perhaps in an effort to teach her a lesson. She didn’t believe what you experienced was real until she was affected by its daunting presence. But you aren’t the type of person to do that; not when there’s an impending threat. She must have sensed your honesty.

“What time did you hear the footsteps?” You ask.

“Past 1 AM.” She asserts.

“And how long did they last?”

“Hours, dude.”

“Until the doorknob thing?”

“Yeah.”

You ponder. Does the time of night have anything to do with his prowess? During your research, you reviewed speculations that three in the morning is a period of peak strength for supernatural beings. Ericson isn't aware of the exact time, so you have nothing concrete to go on. There's more to explore.

“And after it tried your door, did you hear anything else?”

“No.” She denies. “But I couldn’t get to sleep until sunrise.”

You withdraw from the half-embrace and stand upright. This is the first time a confrontation between her and the vampire has occurred. If it wasn’t, she would have said something sooner. You know Ericson; she’s the type to vent her grievances rather openly.

“Do you know what’s going on?” She inquires.

“I honestly don’t.” You admit. “But I think this thing lives in the basement.”

“What is it?”

“It told me it’s a vampire.”

“Oh, no way.” She clutches her skull. “I could’ve accepted a demon, but vampires are pure fucking fiction.”

You had a similar reaction. The vampire was popularized by Bram Stoker, but the concept of a bloodsucking nightstalker has been around for centuries upon centuries. In Anno Domini, civilians placed blame on these beings for illnesses related to cleanliness — a value that was discarded by many people due to its perceived insignificance. Rabies and pellagra were diseases hypothesized to have caused humans in early times to fear sunlight and water, act in the throes of delusion, and rip out the flesh of their peers and loved ones. Alas, maybe those conclusions aren’t accurate. How are we to know what transpired back then? The undead may have roamed this earth in the form of vampires, who all but died with the coming of modernization.

This bastard beneath you could be the final one in existence.

“I’m literally repeating to you what it told me.”

“Whatever it is.” She sniffs. “What do we do about it?”

“If it were up to me, I’d get us the fuck out of here.” Your confession is earnest. “But we’d have to convince Cree and Nelly to move.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her head back in utter anguish. “No, I really can’t afford to move again.”

That’s fair. You’re recovering from the moving costs alongside her and Cree. Only Nelly has been able to completely pay hers off. As much as you hate to say it, you’re stuck here until you can save up enough to consider looking elsewhere. Your last resort is subletting, and even then, you'd have to find a new home.

“As a short-term solution, do you want to sleep upstairs for now?” You offer. “You can stay with one of us.”

Power in numbers. Cree would be willing to room with her, as would you. Nelly, you’re not certain. She enjoys her solitary space. And, to your knowledge, she hasn’t experienced supernatural occurrences this house has to queued for you yet.

But Ericson isn’t on board.

“No.” She decides resolutely. “I’m gonna go out and buy a few things for protection later.”

You raise a brow. You almost didn't catch that; her energy changed. It's disquieted. What just happened?

Jaw clenched, she gets up from her seat. She bobs her head back and forth, as though in disbelief. There’s an urgency to her movements. It’s impossible to know where she’s at if she doesn't communicate.

“Actually, I’m gonna call a taxi and grab them now.”

She pulls out her phone and begins sifting through it.

"Don't you want to wash up first?"

You don't mean it as an insult. You want her to slow down. She doesn't share your sentiment.

"Nah. When I get back."

You realize that there's no convincing her otherwise. It's your cue to depart. There are tasks on your mind, too.

"Okay, well... I'm a text away, okay?"

"Thanks, (f/n)."

You walk across the kitchen and head towards the doorway. You've lost your appetite. You'll eat at dinner tonight.

As you rush out, Ericson calls after you.

"Hey, you and Cree aren't dating, right?"

You laugh, trotting back upstairs.

"Not a chance!"

The brunette hums knowingly into the empty space. There’s a playful flutter in her voice. Her orbs don't leave her screen.

“Heh. Yeah. Sure.”

Ericson left ten minutes ago. You watched her get into the taxi and wave at you through the window. It's likely she'll be gone for a good few hours. Nelly will be home in thirty, but until then, you're in solitude. It's just you and the vampire.

You stand outside the basement door. You recognize that disengaging the locks would be suicide. Don’t vampires need to be invited inside? You don’t wish to be a willing victim this time. If he's going to act belligerently, he can do so without your condolences. You won't open the door. This will be a good test to determine the bounds of his strength.

You press your palm against the wooden panels in front of you and close your eyes. Clearing your throat, you speak.

“Monster.” You brazenly address him. “Can you hear me?”

Below, Alucard is intrigued. Yes, he’s listening; he’s been listening since you awakened. He can’t see what you’re doing on that laptop of yours, but it’s apparent that you’re dedicated to your work. He was hoping you would come downstairs so he could get a better glimpse of you. Now, you want to talk.

“I’m not going to let you fuck with my friends.” You declare. “Leave us be.”

The demand is valiant. You’re in no place to be commanding an otherworldly being. He must know this.

And he does. A king cannot bend his knee to one who is undoubtedly more frail than he. You must know this, as well.

The silence that fills the corridor is particularly aggressive. You don’t think the house has ever been this quiet. Yet, you’re not alone. Fine. If he won’t communicate, you’ll force him to react.

“Dracula.” You swallow. “Stop ignoring me.”

Promptly, the lightbulb in the hallway snaps. Your eyes snap open. Glass pours over you like rain, causing you to flinch on impact. Thankfully, none of the pieces draw blood.

“Continue to involve them, and they will die.” A sinister voice growls.

Your breath hitches. Time feels as though it’s standing still. Gradually, the room cools down. The small hairs decorating your skin stand on edge, denoting your dread. He’s here. For all you know, he could be on the opposite side of the door, grinning at your helpless form.

“You should fear your own fate, pretty mortal.”

You can practically see his predator-like simper. It has your gut gurgling with nausea. You want so badly to flee. The front door is over there. You can make it, but you don’t try; your purpose is to persist.

“Stay away from them.” You repeat adamantly. “And me.”

Alucard is salivating. He’s never wanted you more. He loves a woman who can stand up for herself — even if she’ll be easily overpowered. Where did this fire come from?

“You feign as though you have control.” He cackles cruelly. “You don’t. I can smell your anxiety, sweet little thing.”

But he can't access your thoughts with the same simplicity with which he used previously. You have a mental barrier that restricts his ingress. He's growing increasingly impressed. The mastery you're possessing over your functioning is uncommon for mortals.

"I do have control." You contend. "Because you aren't at your best, are you?"

Alucard ponders. He should have been keeping a closer eye on you. It appears as though you've been doing a healthy amount of reading. First, you call him by his ancient moniker; then, you acknowledge his sickliness. Where did you learn this information?

"It matters not." He drawls solemnly. "I won't remain this way forever."

Ericson has his amulet. He has been whispering to her in dreams, coaxing her to carry the amulet with her. She awakens, unrestful, with induced amnesia. The subliminal messaging will work more effectively soon. She’ll want to protect herself now that he’s made an appearance. He was content to hear how terrified his visit made her, as she confided in you earlier.

"What can you do to stop me?"

The question isn't as innocent as he makes it sound. It's layered in horror and misconception. Can he be stopped? Or, better yet, can you stop him? You've never considered yourself the Van Helsing type.

"We’ll leave.”

He smirks.

"Will you?"

He must have overheard your discussion with Ericson. Moving is a long-term plan; it won't aid you in the meantime. You revise your thought, refusing to back down.

“It might take time, but we can."

If worst comes to worst, subletting is on the table. Leaving your friends wouldn't feel phenomenal, but if it comes to keeping your life or discarding it, you will have to face the ultimate sacrifice. Hopefully, they'll have the sense to trust your words and bolt alongside you.

"Even if you could, I wouldn't let you."

Why do you delude yourself? It could be that he hasn’t proven his prowess. That’s an acceptable excuse, given his diminished state. If that's the case, he'll show you.

"I wonder how you'll react when I start to pick your friends off, one by one?" He snickers. "You can't protect them all."

He's hungry for violence; hungry for his innate compulsion to revel in the anguish of the unworthy. He projects this feeling outwards, afflicting you with his morbid thirst. It settles onto your body like dust — invisible, and unpleasantly capable of choking you.

Rage washes over you upon listening to his menacing remark. It implores your legs to kick and your arms to punch. It wills you to scream until your throat is hoarse. The heat that rushes through you is enough to have you gasping for air on the porch. You wouldn't be shocked if your head was steaming from the surplus of pressure.

"You think they're stupid?" You scoff. "Or do you plan to be cowardly in how you pick them off, as you say?"

Abruptly, another lightbulb shatters. It's the one above the front door. Your comment got to him.

Consciously, you haven't a clue where this courage stemmed from. A moment ago, you were frightened he would smash through the wood and abduct your wrist. Unconsciously, you're aware that white hot anger is your vehicle. It's been months of this beast pushing you around. A part of you screams no more.

"Cowardly!" He barks, laughing viciously. "You have nerve calling me this, while you hide behind a locked door.”

"Using the defenses I have against a foe who doesn't play fair seems more strategic to me."

Alucard thrums. You're intelligent to a degree he didn't presume prior to this argument. You're fortunate he likes a bit of spice in his mates. Other vampires would have decapitated you to achieve a rewarding silence.

"Tell me, what would you do if you woke from your slumber to my shadow over your bed?"

It's rhetorical. You wouldn't do anything because you would be dead. Few humans can attain the upper hand with him. But you don't buy into the fantasy he's selling. Instead, you smile thinly.

“I’d drive a stake through your heart, vampire.”

Upstairs, a flurry of lightbulbs puncture. Their noise — quick and shrill — cascades like dominoes. You follow them through the ceiling with witless orbs. The bathroom blows first, then Cree's room, yours, and Nelly's. The bulb at the top of the stairs is the only one which remains intact.

Of all his years existing, Alucard can't recall feeling such a potent arrow of indignation shoot through him. You've tested him enough. He’s going to use what strength he has to teach you an eighth of his wrath.

And he thinks, with a devilish playfulness — the kind that's dipped in fury — oh, how intrepid you’re acting; how intrepid and foolish.

Your jaw unhinges. He’s walking down the steps. Was he upstairs this whole time? A more horrible notion enters your mind: was he in your bedroom? You tremble. That would mean he’s been next to you all morning, deadly and untraceable.

The floorboards behind you creak. You hiss, back stiffening. The room carries an unusual weight to it. It’s as though he’s present with you, hovering over your shoulder — a mere footfall away if you dared to step backward.

You don’t. You can’t. It’s impossible for you to face him when you’re unable to move.

“My dear.”

His tone is sharp and dominant. The playfulness is gone, indicating that his pride has been wounded. You can sense his exasperation. He’s simmering like a pot of soup over a moderate flame.

“You excite me as much as you infuriate me.”

You gulp. His voice is so clear. He really is here with you.

He hasn’t touched you. You don’t know how you’ll react if he does. Will his hands feel as cold as you imagine? Will his nails feel like razors, raking along your skin? Will he kill you where you stand, dragging your mangled body to the basement before Nelly arrives?

“Still, as much as I love that fiery tongue of yours, I won’t be spoken to this way by a disobedient mate.”

Your heart drops. You wait. And wait. And wait for him to grasp you; to show you precisely how he’s destroyed the wills of various others. He doesn’t.

“Trandafir.” He purrs. “During my reign in Wallachia, I believed in strict punishment for poor behaviour. Back then, even my women were not immune to my cruelty.”

Wallachia? Vaguely, the location is familiar. You don’t know why. And what did he call you, again? Tra—tranf—trand…afir…? You’ll have to look these terms up when you get out of this mess. He’s dropping hints. You’ll play his game if it means deciphering clues in your favour.

“My primary mode of execution for traitors was a slow death by impalement. I happily watched as defiers and enemies bled out across hours, sometimes days.”

His family made sadism seem normal. Of them all, though, his father was a compelling example of psychopathy. He invigorated him, at a young age, to dominate. As a king, he honed that trait.

“Even as a mortal, I had an acquired taste for human blood.” He laments darkly. “It was a delicious dip for breads and pastries.”

He truly savoured his enemies’ suffering. That wasn’t anything he was taught; he dedicated himself to the cryptic deed of his own volition. Sometimes, he wonders if that’s why he was capable of rising from the grave. Not all are.

“If I had half my strength, I would not hesitate to impale all of your friends, and force you to bathe in their blood.”

He would have them draw a circle of worship. You would sit in the centre. Sitting in a triangle on the outskirts of the sigil, he would appear behind them and slice their throats.

He imagines snatching Nelly by her thin braids and yanking her head back. A sharp claw would do the trick. Ericson would befall a similar fate. Cree would be decapitated. Your role, once the blood started to spurt, would be to open your mouth and absorb their lives. How pitiful and tantalizing you would look, painted with the loss of your loved ones.

He would keep them alive and under his influence long enough to make them stab themselves. Maybe he’d give the women a swift end, but Cree would inevitably suffer. It’s the tax he must pay for standing in Alucard’s path, attempting to steal you for himself.

He beams, brain shifting into predator mode. The hunger is coming up. If he’s not careful, he’ll transform his threat into a reality before he’s ready.

“And if I had my full strength, I would sink my fangs into your neck and drain you, my sweet.”

Bloodlust fills the air. Your fight or flight kicks in. He’s too close. You shove yourself forward, seemingly stumbling away from his grip. Wasting no time, you whip around to confront him. He’s not there. In a single snapshot, you feel like a zealot who lost his god. Where did He go? Is He still here with me? Or was He ever here at all?

You stand motionless in the dead air. Disoriented, you examine the locks on the basement door. None of them are out of place. Earlier, he alluded to the mechanisms impeding him, cutting you out to be a coward for inserting a barrier between the two of you. He lied. A reinforced piece of wood made no difference.

As you inspect the door, you notice small wood chippings on the floor. Upon closer inspection, you identify that they’re being blown in by a draft under the door. It almost looks like… something was clawing the opposite side of the door, desperately peeling the paint with every crooked scratch.

[morimemichael]

Not Allowed

Dbd!Myers x f!Reader

Reader it’s new to the realm, she gets a good first impression on everyone; killer and survivor. Tho there’s certain someone who seams to became too obsessed with her. She doesn’t get it, she thinks this killer hates her with all their guts. Sooner than later she finds that some interactions and relationships are not allowed in the realm.

WG: Some angst and cursing Michael actually talks but this is not actually a warning lol mentions of death, blood and gore. Michael and Ghostface have a bromance cause deep down they are besties. Dbd!Michael it’s based on RZ! Michael here. Use if y/n twice on the entire fic. Ghostface removes his mask. Michael removes his mask. Big old Pewpaw Kazan Yamaoka, aka, the ink is a great hugger. Happy ending(?)

You were brand new to the realm, like a new born baby. You didn’t understand what was going on, one night you went to bed and the next thing you know it’s the uncomfortable feeling of grass and wood sticks on your back. This was beyond clear that it wasn’t your bed.

You woke up scared as hell in an unknown forest to you, it’s was late at night you could tell and you didn’t met a single soul this far. All of that was vanished when the sound of what it seemed a camp fire stroked your ears, and for your surprise it wasn’t just a camp fire you could distinguish the sound of human voices too. It didn’t seem too far from were you currently were. So you walked a little faster while covering your chest with your own arms in a sutil attempt to combat the cold weather.

You stepped closer to the people in the camp fire to ask for help and maybe an answer to what was going on here. As you got closer could see a bunch of girls and a few boys. One of the girls had red hair and running clothes, the Oder one had short black hair, she was wearing glasses, the other one had also shirt hair, she was wearing a black and red shirt and loosen pants, on the other side; one of the boys was tall with very short black hair and when you herd him taking he had a british accent, the other boy had also black hair but it reached the mid of his face.

“Uhm, excuse me?” You said. Your voice low but clear. The red hair girl turned around to look at you. Suddenly everyone stopped talking.

“Oh my god…” The red hair girl stated. “Guys…I think we have a new partner!” She continued.

Everyone smiled at you and presented themselves. It turned out the red hair girl’s name was Meg Thomas, the girl with the glasses was Claudette Morel, the other girl was Nea Karlson, the British guy was David King and the other guy was Jake Park.

“Did you just arrived?” Claudette asked.

“Yeah…I don’t know where I am.” You stated.

“What’s your name girl?” Meg asked.

“Where are you from?” Another question, this time Jake.

“She’s gonna need a lot of help.” You herd David talking.

“Guys, why don’t we just let her sit with us and let her talk?” Nea said. It was the first time she talked.

You smiled for the first time.

You sat next to Meg and Nea and proceeded to tell every detail about you, your name, your age, where were you from. You told them that last night you had a fight with your parents and when you went to sleep you woke up here.

“We get you, we really do.” Jake spoke.

Everyone told you their personal story. How they end up here, but most important of all they told you what was going on in this place.

“There’s uhm…there’s something that we call the entity, that rules all of this place. She can do what she pleases with us and with everyone.” Nea talked looking at you.

“To survive and to keep every thing, no matter how small it might be, here with us, like some food and water, we have to go through trials.” Jake explained.

“Trials?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, we must repair five generators to open the exit gates.” Meg continued.

“That’s it? Just five generators? It’s a piece of cake…” you laughed.

“I wouldn’t say that if i were you…” David looked at you.

“Why not?” You talked back.

David sight, then he explained the most difficult part.

“We must face a killer that will be with us in the same place.”

“WHAT!? A real killer? Like from slasher movies?” You stated.

“Yes, a real killer.” David stated.

“N-no, no, I wanna go home, please!” You yell at the sky hopping this entity would hear you and somehow pity you.

Everyone looked at you with sad eyes, they knew you weren’t going home anytime sooner.

“Wish we could do something about it, I’m so sorry.” Jake spoke again after a long time.

You moved your head to the sides and looked down, a long sigh scapes your mouth. “Shit…” that’s all that came from you. Everyone remained silent for a while until you spoke again.

“So, how this trial thing works?”

“Well, the entity select some of us for the trial, four survivors to be exact. To help you in the trial you can carrie an object with you, this objects being a toolbox or a flashlight or a med kit and others. Every object has their own use, the toolbox can be use on the generators or to sabotage the hooks the killer use to hook us, by the way; the killer’s main goal is to hook us all in those hooks, flashlights are meant to blind the killer and save your teammates that se going to get hook, and last but not least the med kit as its name suggests can be use to heal yourself or your teammates. Also when you get hook-“ Claudette was interrupted by survivors who just came back from a trial. Four survivors emerged from the dar fog of this place.

“Gosh, that trial was so easy, I need something more challenging!” A young girl with blonde hair spoke.

“Hey Laurie, who was the killer this time?” David asked her.

Laurie? Like the same Laurie from the Halloween movies? You thought to yourself. The intrigue of knowing if you were right was eating your brain, you know you wouldn’t last any longer so you had to ask her.

“The trickster.” This girl said looking at David.

“Uhm excuse me, Laurie? Like Laurie Strode form the Halloween movies?” You finally asked her.

“Yes! I’m her. You must be new right?” She smiled back at you.

“Yes, in fact I got here a few moments ago.” You then proceed to present yourself.

“So nice to meet you! I know we’re gonna be good friends, watcha say new girl?” Laurie had a content face. New girl huh? You liked the new nickname.

“I hope so! By the way I loved that nickname!” Laurie smiled back at your words.

Nea joined your conversation with Laurie explaining further more how the trials work.

“Continuing with the trials, we’re gonna spawn in a map. In this map you will find certain constructions you can use to loop the killer, evade them or confuse them.

“Ok.” You listen very carefully to what Nea said.

Sooner than later you realize that some of the survivors that came with Laurie were from the Resident Evil game franchise. Leon and Jill were here, you wondered if others form the same games were too. You smiled when you saw Chris and Claire in this place too. You presented yourself like you did with everyone else and they seemed to like you as much as the rest did.

“We should tell you that some survivors came along with their respective killers, generally they are related to them. For example, Leon and me came along with Nemesis.” Jill explained.

“So…if you guys came along with Nemesis that means you Laurie came along with M-“

“Yes, I came along with Michael Myers.” She finished the sentence for you. The second you hear that afirmation you knew you no longer wanted to get back home.

“Gosh that’s awesome! I love the Halloween movies, as much as the Resident Evil games or the Scream movies. I love Halloween season so much, and Halloween loves me.” You gave the guys a mischievous smile.

“That’s great! But do let me tell you that most of the killers aren’t nice as us survivors. Some of them lack empathy and act rude. Tho I have to say some killers are nice sometimes.” Leon’s voice was calm but it sounded firm.

“I see, so uhm…Michael?” Your question was meant to find out how he acts in this place.

“Well, Michael has his “I think I could spare you” moments sometimes, but most of the time he just hooks us…he’s very accurate I would say.” Laurie didn’t have anything left to say about Michael.

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of disappointment and excitement, you wanted to face him so bad by now. Eventually the time for your first trial came, thankfully you weren’t alone, Laurie got picked too. You asume that the most optimal object to take with yourself for your first trial was med kit.

Soon the trial started and you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw that the killer you were going against was none other than Michael Myers himself. You were over excited, you wanted to say hi, let him know how much you liked his movies. You wander how he was going to act this time, you assumed since you were new maybe he could spare you. He was lurking near the generator you were currently working on, unaware you were conscious he was there.

Something inside you made you leave the generator and get closer to Michael. You could see he was stalking Jill, who was also picked with you, David was here too, somewhere on the map. You got closer and closer to Michael until you were near his back. The sound of a wood stick breaking under your feet gave you away. He stopped on his track and tilted his head to the left making you know he heard you. Your heart was ricing at this point. He turned around completely to face you. You could hear him breathing behind his mask. His blueish eyes analyzing you. The leafs under his feet made a cracking noise as he slowly walked towards you. Walking in circles around you he kept looking you up and down. Something form you caught his attention, maybe you reminded him form someone, he didn’t know. One thing was certain, besides looking you he was also stalking you. He made a final step in front of you, this time he was very near you. You instantly thought it was your end when he lifted his kitchen knife at you. You closed your eyes ready to get hit and downed, but the empty feeling of nothing tearing your flesh apart made you open your eyes. Yes, he was still there but his didn’t made a single move against you, he didn’t even tried to down you.

“I-i uhm know you! I love your movies.” You didn’t know why you said that. You felt so stupid. He didn’t answer of course he just tilted his head to the left.

He started moving forward through the map that’s stroke you late it was Haddonfield. You were following him, you didn’t fully understand why he didn’t try to kill you or stab you. Asking him questions didn’t seemed a bad idea to you tho. “So, how you end up here?” And another one “How long have you been here?” And another “Why don’t you talk?”, “Don’t you miss your home?”, “I told you i love your movies right? I think i did..” You even told him your name and your age and the place you came form, even how you end up here. But he never answered, all he did was stopping whenever you asked something and turn around to look at you.

Later than sooner you realize he was heading toward Laurie, who happened to see all the interactions between Michael and you.

“New girl? What are you doing?! RUN!” She screamed at you. She stepped forward to grab your hand, and just as she saw Michael was going for you she stepped in the middle of you to. Michael grabbed her instead. He grabbed Laurie by the throat and buried the long kitchen knife in her abdomen.

“OH MY GOD LAURIE!” You scream in panic. The young blond girl struggled against Michael who buried the knife deeper fully killing her.

“LEAVE HER ALONE PLEASE, DON’T HURT HER!” Blood leaving Laurie’s body as he throws her on the street asphalt. He lowered his knife for a second and walked to your side, he looked again at you, this time inches away from your face. You closed your eyes waiting for your inevitably fate, which it never came. He lifted his knife again and went for the rest of the survivors, Jill and you were left until it was only you.

“Shit…” you muttered to yourself. You were just meters away from Michael who was facing back at you and still had his knife up.

You heard a little noice of something opening near you, but Michel herd it too. This time walking towards you, ready to curse him you saw how he walked pass you a few meters away and turned to look at you again, this time putting his knife down. He look down at what it seemed to you like a little door on the street, and look back up at you. You didn’t understand. You catch up with him and looked him dead in his dark eyes.

“Fuck..you..and this place and your stupid movies!!” He gestured down to the little gate again.

“I don’t get it!! I don’t know what it means…freak.” You were really starting to hate him, or you were just scared. Claudette didn’t finish to tell you that this things happen frequently. Deaths happen frequently, but you just didn’t know it. Michael gestured one last time to the little door and then looked up at you.

“FUCK! I don’t want it! Screw you bastard!” You push him a little bit, you knew this time you went too far when he grabbed you by your throat and push you against the nearest parked car. You tried your best to hit him hard, unfortunately he didn’t even react.

“I-i can’t…can’t breath Mich-michael…” You felt your air leaving your lungs. He gave you his signature look and move his knife closer to you. Then you finally felt it. Cold, it sting like, you finally felt the pain. Then all over again, and again, and again. He stabbed you, more than once. He wasn’t stabbing vital points, he was going slow.

“Please…” You pleaded, in vain, cause he didn’t stop. Instead he got out all the knife and finally stabbed you deeper. Little pain sounds scaped your mouth, and for the first time on this place you cried. Then all turned black. Just like that you were gone.

Michael put your body down, surprisingly with gentle moves. He kept looking at your dead body noticing what was left of your tears. He wasn’t going to kill you. When he saw you for the first time moments ago something woke up in him, he didn’t know what it was. You intrigued him in a way nothing ever did before. He wasn’t bother by your questions, the first time he looked at you was because he didn’t know what to do, he analyzed your gestures your face, your eyes...the other times he stopped when you asked him a question was on purpose, he wanted to look at your precios eyes just to be sure he wasn’t making it all up. He didn’t want to kill you, but…why did you act like that? He wanted you to leave, damn he even offered you the hatch. The second those hurting words left your mouth he felt attacked. He was trying to be nice, to do something nice…why couldn’t you be nice to him too? He was hurt, you caught his attention, but you hurt him. Why? You even said you loved his movies, why were you being so rude to him? He let his knife fell to the street, looking down he brought one hand to his masked face and one single scream was heard on Haddonfield that night. He was the only one left there.

The feeling of your death still lingered on your body the first time you came back to the camp fire. Laurie, Jill and David were already there due to that they have been killed earlier before you. You couldn’t help but feel awful.

“He…killed…he killed us. Like we were nothing.” You sounded so disgusted.

“Yeah new girl…most of the time it is like this. We forgot to tell you that killers hook survivors to sacrifice them to the entity. Or sometimes they can kill us with their own hand…like Michael did.” Laurie explained. You were so relieved to know that even if you or anyone gets killed they came back.

“I tried to be nice…i-i really did. I even want sure if he was going to kill me, but then he got you Laurie…” You continued.

“I saw all of it. And it was rare! He never acted like that with new survivors.” Laurie exclaime surprised.

“What you mean?” You replied back.

“He wasn’t just stalking you…he seemed to be analyzing you as well…who knows for what or why?” Laurie confirmed.

“Well that didn’t go well did it? I think he hates me…”

“I think he saw something in you. He likes you…” Laurie’s word were spoken so low you didn’t hear her, tho the rest of the survivors did, and they shared the same theory. Because killers can be nice sometimes, you heard killers like Ghostface, or Deathslinger, or even Oni had a good side….but Michael? He was known to be nice just three or four times since he got in the realm. It was unusual his behavior. And they know it, specially Laurie who came with him and Danny the Ghostface who seemed to grow closer to Michael over the years.

On the other hand, in the distant across the camp fire were the killers. They were all in the same place, hanging and resting like survivors did. It existed a physical barrier that separated the camp fire form the killers. Both survivor and killer could get near this barrier but couldn’t cross it. Survivors could meet the killers on trials or if the decided to go to certain map or place. Once there they could interact. But some interactions were not allowed. It’s not like something bad would happen to the survivor or the killer, it was the fact that the entity didn’t want that in her realm. It was known that when a killer didn’t do well in the trial, the entity would punish them, maybe she would make them see something they fear or hurt them the most, something about their past maybe. This only happens when the entity consideres it necessary.

Danny, Kazan, Caleb and Herman were watching the trial. They were also surprised Michael tried to spare the new girl. Of course the also saw how you rejected the offer. Michael came back to the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, head pointing down.

“Hey Mike, you’re okay?” Danny asked him, his vice distant due to the ghost face mask. Michael didn’t answer he just looked at him. It’s not that they didn’t hear him talking tho, this time he just chose to remain silent and walk away. Danny was going to follow him but Caleb stopped him.

“Leave him be, give him some space…” Danny looked at him, then his head turned to look at Michael walking away. His eyes looked down behind his mask. He then decided to walk away too.

“Rejection can hurt.” Kazan said. His English still had a fainted Japanese accent.

“Sure does.” Herman added.

Michael made sure there was nobody with him. Once he realized he was all alone, his hands reached the bottom of his mask and pulled it up, reveling his face. Long blond and a little dirty hair covered part of his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes, the way you walked with him while asking questions, your hair, your face…then he remembered those harsh words leaving your mouth. He wanted to understand, he needed to understand so bad why, why did you do that? He was trying to be nice, he usually isn’t. He knows he’s mean, selfish, he has a dark twisted heart, if he even had one. He find himself surprised by the choice of letting you go, to leave through the hatch. He lives for the hunt, the cat and mouse play, the adrenaline he feels when he kills. He’s no good and he knows it very well. On the other hand he felt hurt at your words…he felt…something was wrong with him, it must be right? He never experienced anything let along feelings. So he got to the conclusion that he was just offended by some words. You had offended him, yet here he is, thinking non stop of you.

Back to the others, Caleb was taking with Kazan.

“I think…I think he either likes her or she became his obsession. I mean, she seems like a nice girl, we didn’t cross paths yet. He’s the first one she goes against.” Said Caleb.

“Dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has it.” Kazan abruptly said. Caleb wasn’t following.

“Excuse me?

“Soul.” Kazan explained. “His soul is dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has one.” He finished. Caleb rises an eyebrow at Kazans words as to say he is not understanding him.

“Souls, I can see. Souls, I can sense.” Kazan said.

“It’s that so? How’s mine then?” Caleb teased.

“Baka…” It wasn’t rare at all for the Oni to speak Japanese now and then, he just told Caleb he’s a moron.

“Oh come on Kazan! You know my Japanese it’s not fresh!” Caleb protested then saw Kazan walking away.

Days turned into weeks in the realm and you were getting better at trials and so far killer you face killer you got to like you, not as much as Michael apparently. The things with him didn’t change unfortunately. Whenever you two go against each other he tries to give you hatch even if he didn’t sacrifice anyone. All the words that left your mouth were hate words and curse words. You decided if he was going to hate you you will hate him back. Tho deep down you didn’t like that idea. Now and then you catch yourself waking pass the limit of the barrier, just in case you see him. At this point it was like a dynamic. You would face him in a trial, get at his nerves, sometimes he would try to give the hatch anyway but you always complain. And that ends in painful death. You felt like he kills you slower than the rest on purpose. He won’t admit that he also walks pass the limit of the barrier, but in his case he does see you, he sees everything thing you say or do. Of course he does this intentionally. He doesn’t know why he keeps torturing you like he does, or even why he keeps torturing himself watching you knowing nothing will ever happen. Maybe all he wants is to make you hurt, because that way he gets to hear you begging him and saying his name so low.

Michael…please. Stop it.

A soft beg said in a soft voice. All you ever mean by this is for him to stop killing you like he does. He gets you sacrificed sometimes, but you rather get sacrificed a million times than to feel the cold of his kitchen knife stabbing you deep in your guts in the most slow way possible.

By now, you have met all the survivors and went against every killer. But you were closer to Laurie, Nea, Jill, Leon, Yun Jin, Feng, Yui, Oni, Ghostface, the Deathslinger, the Spirit and Wesker. It’s not like you didn’t like the rest of killers and survivors, you just were closer with some. You would often speak with Wesker to hear about genetic stuff, and then you would tease him about some random word you thought it was funny. He would look at you and say something like:

“Hey don’t push me new girl, you will not want me to go Michael!” He laughed. His sense of humor was evident not shared with yours.

“That was not funny Albert.” You said, he looked down.

“I apologize.”

“Rude..” You smiled when you heard Kazan saying that when Albert left.

This far you couldn’t really complain about your staying here. You wish things with Michael were different tho. There was this time when you faced The Doctor, and you were carrying a flashlight, you were getting good at flashlight saves, everything was laugh and fun. You blind him several times, and save your teammates a couple of other time too.

“Hey stop it with the flashlight, new girl! I can call you new girl too right?” Herman asked, annoyed but with a yet friendly tone. In response you pointed the flashlight to his face and granted permission to call you bay your nickname.

“Come on!!! Stop it! I’m warning ya!” He yeld.

“Or what doc?” You really weren’t taking him seriously. Next thing you know is you’re hooked then unhooked, and hooked again. The second time one of your teammates unhooked you, Herman tunneled you and killed you with his own hands.

When you came back to the camp fire you were laughing like a maniac. You really had a good time, not fully caring if you got tunneled or not. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t like that. Not.a.single.bit.

What happened next? The next trial you went on, you and Feng were the only ones left, and guess what? Your were going against Michael, again. This time was different, he actually down you with normal hits and hooked you, it was your first hook when Feng tried to rescue you. It’s not necessary to say Michael grabbed her before she could unhook you. He grabbed poorFeng by the neck and then looked at you, then back at Feng, she knew what was coming. He killed her with his own hand many times before, she didn’t mind at this point. But you? Oh boy you did care…

“Michael…” You say terrified. He tilted his head, he didn’t say a single word but you knew he meant to say “what?” He lift her from the ground and started to get his knife out.

“No please…Michael,” You knew he saw that trial with Herman, you were having fun with the flashlight, then you got tunneled, but you didn’t care, why did he? You could tell it was some type of pay back on Herman, because Feng was his survivor. But..you weren’t his…

Of course Michael was getting his pay back, he just wasn’t going to admit it to you. Pay back exactly for what? For the tunneling? Or maybe was cause he saw you laughing and having fun with Herman instead of him. He thinks he deserves that from you too. Or maybe not, by the way he kept killing you he didn’t doubt why you hated him so much. He just didn’t know what to do. Deep down he must feel that he has to hurt you bad because you hurted him, you kind of rejected him, and one part of him resented you for that. But his other part knows that giving you the worst death of the trial was the only way to get you to talk nicely to him…the way you beg…maybe he wanted so bad to hear you beg cause he couldn’t let himself beg you for attention, for that thing he felt only wfor his mother and his little baby sister, a little bit of love.

Him? Begging? Michael Myers never begged. Victims beg him for mercy, beg him to spare them. He wouldn’t allowed to do that himself.

“Please!!! PLEASE!! LET HER GO!” He didn’t listen any of your words, and the tip of his knife threatened to go deeper into Feng’s belly. You didn’t know what else to do, what else could you say.

“I’m sorry Michael! I’m so sorry, it’s my fault!” The desperate plea for Michael to stop for a second. He knew you didn’t mean to apologize for how you been treating each other. You meant that Feng death was your fault. He turned to look at you. For a second you thought you got it, he would stop. Reality hitter you like a truck when you heard Feng’s desperate cries of pain.

“NOO! PLEASE! FENG!” You cried and sobbed hard. “I’m so sorry Feng.” You apologized to your already dead friend laying on the cold snow of Ormond.

“Why…” Tears falling from your eyes like waterfalls. “Why are you doing this to me? Why I’m not even allowed to have friends…I need them Michael…” you continued.

He remained silent.

“I fucking hate you…your making it impossible for me to be here!” You reclaim.

Imposible for her? He thought. You were the one who put his world and all he knew this entire time upside down. If your harsh words hurt him, this hurt him even more. All of a sudden he got closer to you, and closer….to the point you two were face to face. He hit you with his knife while you were hooked. It was already too late when he noticed that the sharp blade of his knife had cut deep on your throat.

Your face of sudden realization he sliced your throat and your were bleeding out was too much for him. He closes his eyes every time he kills you, but this was too much. This felt way more painful that his normal killing mode. Tears running down your face as you tried to cover your bloody throat in pain. Not being able to tolerate seeing you die like this in so, so much pain, Michael left. He left you there alone to die in the cold.

The trial ended and Michael came back before you, stepping into the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, he was met with Danny, Kazan and Herman.

“Bro…was cutting her throat open really necessary there?” Danny asked him, not really judging him, cause after all you got sacrificed and that what counted. Michael leaned back against the nearest tree there. He looked at Danny, and for the first time since he met you he decided that talking wasn’t going to hurt him that bad.

“No it wasn’t. I don’t know why I did that.” He answered Danny’s question.

Herman decided to join the conversation too.

“Are you okay Michael?” Herman asked. Michael didn’t reply what he expected. He looked at Herman, and for one second he felt ashamed of what he did to Feng Ming, but specifically why he did it. And then something he never thought he would say.

“I’m sorry about Feng Ming.” Herman opened his eyes more…if that was even possible.

Michael gathered himself from the tree and walk away. Kazan made a gesture to Danny. Follow him, that’s what he was tending to say. Needless to say Danny got the hint almost immediately. Danny stood up and quickly tried to put up with Michael.

On the camp fire side, desperate cries and tears came down your face. It turns out that, since Michael cutted your throat while you were still on hooked, when you came back you found out by Laurie’s words that a thin but long scar adorned you neck. You couldn’t believe it. You loved using necklaces and stuff, but now? You wouldn’t be able to use one without the scar sticked to your neck like a bad tattoo.

“I can’t believe this…” You cried. You were so weak that Laurie was holding you by your left arm as Rebecca told you to go to the medical support room, which it was only another part of the camp fire, but with the few things Rebecca could gathered around to help, heal and examine other’s wounds.

“It’s ok girl…we got you.” Laurie reaffirmed. You wouldn’t stop crying. Rebecca was walking in front of you, and Laurie still by your side. You heard a distant “Michael wait!” You recognized that voice immediately.

Ghostface…Danny. You thought. You knew He was close with Michael so you figured out he must be with him.

If I see him I’ll kill him. You thought to yourself. Of course you knew the odds of actually killing a Killer were none, %0. But this time Michael has gone too far and now all you wanna do is tell him how bad he has hurt you. Was he even going to react at your words? Probably not. You turn to look at your left were the barrier was, and you were right. Ghostface was trying to keep up the pace walking Michael had. Laurie seemed to notice you notice Michael on the other side, and gesture to Rebecca to stay with you for a moment.

“Hey, Michael…HEY!” She spoke caughting his attention. Michael stopped and turned to look at Laurie as she got closer and closer to the barrier.

“What’s your deal with her?! You went too far this time! She came back crying and sobbing like an animal!” Michael didn’t react to her words, which only made you angrier. You stepped closer to the barrier as well next to Laurie, this time you were beyond hurt.

“Why…? Why you hate me su much?!” That’s all you could ask.

Michael looked at you but to he was showing no emotions, and you were really starting to suspect it was not due to his mask, you truly believed he hates you for something you couldn’t completely understand.

“You know what? Fuck it I’m done trying to talk to you and to ask-no, beg you to speak back to me and tell me what I did wrong…” tears running down your face.

Michael saw you crying, leaning against Laurie for help. The effort you did in your last trial with him was too much to handle for your little frame. Besides, the feeling of getting your throat cut open was awful. His eyes looked down behind his mask, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this. The sound of your cries and sobbing were tearing through his chest, straight to his heart, if he even had one. He didn’t put a name to what he was feeling and experience when you were with him or near him, all he knew was death, blood and pain. He couldn’t afford to feel anything else…right? With that in mind he turned around and walk away silently.

“Yeah, walk away…like you always do.” You said in a low tone. Throat still hurting for the previous abused it received. He pretend no to listen to what you say. He couldn’t help but feel how something inside started to break.

Michael wondered if the entity was going to do something about this eventually. Little did he know that in reality, the entity was amazed by you and how you treated Michael the first time you met him. Needless to say, that the entity knew how both of you felt for each other. And the only reason she was going to allow what she was going to do, was because she knew both, you and Michael, would react eventually and arrange the differences between you two.

The entity had a plan.

Michael kept stalking you from the dark the rest of the night, that’s how he found out you wanted a choker to cover up the nasty scar. He wasn’t alone tho, Danny was with him. “Ahh…I really would like a choker.” Those were your exact words.

“You heard that Mike?” Danny asked looking at him, smiling behind his mask. Michael nodded.

“I..want to apologize..for..everything I did to her.” Michael said, looking down, eyes to coward to look at you complaining about the scar, a scar he gave you.

“Hey! Now we’re talking!” Danny’s voice a little bit enthusiastic. “How you plan on doing that? I don’t think by just saying that she will even consider to forgive you man…”

“I’ve got an idea…” Michael looked at Danny, then proceeded to whisper in his covered ear what he was going to do.

“It sounds great Mike! You’ll will need lots of paper and fabric. Maybe your mask supplies might work that thing as well!” Danny said looking at your throat’s scar.

“I’m going to Haddonfield.” And with That Michael made his way to his own home town.

Michael spent all night on Haddonfield working on something to give you as for an apology. On the other hand, you didn’t do much, you didn’t had trials that day, until like 6 o’clock you spent your time talking with Kazan, and Danny.

“I don’t like my scar…”

“Scars are sings of fight, if you survive fights it means your strong, therefor scars shows strength.” Kazan spoke.

“I agree with this big red guy here.” Danny added.

“I guess your right guys.”

Somewhere meters away from you, on the killer side, Evan and Caleb were sharing a interesting conversation. You see, Evan since he’s been here long before most of the killers he can speak with the entity sometimes.

“So…your telling me the entity’s plan is basically hope for the best? There’s no way we can know how he will react to it. He has never been punished before!” Caleb said.

“We gotta trust her plan Caleb.” Evan said, his gaze looking up where the entity is supposed to be.

“I hope she don’t do wrong.”

“She never does, Caleb. She never does.”

Time passed and you keep talking with Kazan and Danny from your side of the camp. Danny telling you something about his camera you didn’t quite catch the meaning. It was so specific and technical you didn’t even try to understand it. Then you asked Kazan to tell you everything he knew about the Samurai. You’ve always loved Japanese culture, you wanted to go someday to japan too.

“I would have loved to travel to Japan…” Your voice flooded with sadness.

“It’s so beautiful…my country…I don’t doubt you would have love it.” Kazan replays.

You were so focused on your conversation with Kazan and Danny that you didn’t notice Michael joining them. When you saw him all the joy on your face instantly disappeared. It’s like you couldn’t had one minute alone, not even a day! Kazan and Danny didn’t understand your sudden change of mood.

“What the hell do you want now?” You said, eyes wouldn’t dare to leave that white mask of his.

Both Kazan and Danny looked at each other, raised their shoulders until they looked behind themselves.

“Guys, can we move somewhere else please? I don’t have time nor the energy to deal with this freak.” You said looking dead to Michael’s eyes. Danny examined Michael for a moment and noticed something in his right hand.

“New girl…” Danny looked at you.

“What??” You already sounded pissed.

“Please, just give him a moment…” He said. It was the first time you heard The Ghostface say “please”, so for the sake of it you listed.

Michael stepped closer to the barrier, Danny and Kazan gave him space so his now was positioned in the middle. He reached his right hand to the edge of the barrier beneath him and tossed something to your side. You looked at it confused.

“I don’t get it, the hell do you want?!” You yeld at him.

Michael looks down at the object then back up at you. He wanted you to grab it. You sigh ruin discomfort as you bent down to grab it. Still didn’t catching what it was. All you knew it was soft to the touch.

“And I’m still don’t getting it, maybe I’m just stupid or perhaps you should fucking talk to me already!!” You were getting angrier every minute.

“I think you should open it..” Kazan has an idea of what could it been, you said earlier that you hated your scar, so he though maybe it was a necklace. You looked at Danny for his opinion too. He just nodded.

“Agh!! The things I do for you guys…” You said, your voice still angry. Michael couldn’t help but to feel bad you wanted to spend time with them but not with him.

Your eyes filled with anger when you saw this thing was a choker, and you didn’t even know why. Deep down you wanted to forgive him, you just couldn’t seem to find a reason.

“Sorry.” A single word scaped Michael’s mouth. It was the first time he ever spoke to you. Yet you felt it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t a worthy apology.

“Sorry? SORRY?! That’s all you could came up with?

“New girl, I think you shou-“ You didn’t let Danny finish.

“Your pathetic! Your fucking pathetic you hear me? I can’t believe I told you I loved your movies. How I regret that, I regret being nice to you..” You were angry as ever.

The bad treat continued, once, twice..you couldn’t count how many bad, nasty and hurting things you said to him.

“Childish!”

“Coward!”

“Fuckin evil!!”

“I hope you die fucking bastard, I want you dead!”

You tossed back the choker to the other side in contempt, and when you finished something scaped your mouth. Something that even in the most agitated of situations you wouldn’t even think of saying.

“Your mom was a fucking whore, a filthy slut. I bet she didn’t even wanted to have you in the first place!! Why don’t you just leave me alone, damn it!” You yelled at him hitting the invisible barrier that separated you from him and your friend killers. You knew thanks to the movie his mom used to be a stripper. His heart skipped a bit when you said that. Now he knew for sure he had a heart.

If he was hurt before now he was torn to pieces. But what torn apart his heart the most was knowing that, despite what you had just said, what he felt for you didn’t change a damn bit. With no more further a do, he proceeded to walk away. Danny followed him as usual, trying to get him to stay.

“Come on Mike! Don’t leave.” He yelled. “You went way too far kid…Kazan, looked at the choker.” He continued, he notice something written inside the choker, you just hadn’t seen it. Kazan took the little fabric from the dirty ground, wipped of the dirt and read it. Danny far gone by now.

“Kazan…? What does it say?” You asked him.

“You made me human…” This words stabbed you right in your chest. You knew very well the pain of getting stabbed, but this? This can’t be compared.

You felt awful. Why did you said that? It’s not like you even meant it. You felt your eyes filling with tears again at what you just said to him. All alone you thought that hurting him back the way he’d hurt you would make you feel better. But it didn’t. It just made you feel worse. Like you had no soul.

“I…I really messed up here, didn’t i? Kazan?” You looked at his red Oni mask.

“I’m afraid you did…” He confessed.

“Oh my god…what did I do?” You tried to see if you could find Michael with your eyes from your side of the camp. What you didn’t know was that the moment Michael tossed you the choker he made the entity put to work her own plan. You could hear a distant voice, again it was Danny.

“Hey, Mike! Hey!! Michael!” Danny exclaimed, yet no answer from Michael. Danny’s exclamations for Michael became more and more audible. Something was wrong, you knew it, you could feel it. You ran in direction of Danny’s voice.

“Dude wake up! Michael!” Danny kept saying. You got there panting and sweating. Kazan followed a little bit after.

“What’s wrong with him?” You asked.

“I don’t know, he was like this when I catch up with him.”

You could see his body was struggling. His left hand holding his knife, knukles white as milk. His breathing could be heard from where you were. He was getting trouble to breathe. Soft pants and groans suddenly left his mouth too. He sounded like he was in pain, but physically he looked fine. No blood or sings of injuries. It take you a lot of effort to notice through his eyes of his mask that his real eyes were glued shut and a few tears running down.

“Oh my god…his eyes! Look at his eyes.” You told Danny.

“He’s crying!” Danny said surprised.

“Something’s wrong with him. Something’s wrong with him!” You exclaimed. His groans and pants became louder.

“Ahh agh…” Michael complained. Hearing him like this putted you on desperate mode. You tried hitting the barrier unsuccessfully, even kicked it several times.

“Please let in through!” You yelled at the sky, knowing the entity will hear you.

“Do something, guys. Help him! I can’t do anything from here!”

Danny tried to shake his body. No responce. Kazan snaked his body even harder. Again, no response. You noticed some pamphlets in the ground near his boots. You pointed this out to Danny and Kazan. It didn’t took you long to realize that those were her mother’s stripper pamphlets. So did Ghostface and Oni.

“He’s being punished…” Kazan said.

“What? Why?!” You cried. “It’s because of the choker?” You asked.

“Maybe, we don’t know.” Danny spoke.

“No! Please, it’s not his fault it’s mine! I’m the one who should be punished. Please!” You begged to the entity. At this point Michael had his head looking up. Grantings of pain still scaped his mouth.

“No Michael, Michael…listen to me!” You looked at his poor suffering form. “I was wrong. I was wrong! All of this wasn’t your fault. I overreacted, okay? And your mom? Your mom was a beautiful person. She did everything she could for you and both your sisters! I was wrong Michael. I’m so sorry…so so sorry! I didn’t mean anything of this to happen…” You sobbed while explaining yourself. Michael managed to look down at you.

Desperation taking over your body, you punched and kicked the barrier. Demanding the entity to let you in just this once.

“Please!! Please, i-I’ll do anything!” You begged her.

From the distant, Caleb and Evan could hear your screams. They know what was already happening, that’s why the decided that not interfering was the best option. Nothing could have prepared the people on this realm for what was about to happen. Your hands banging the barrier were suddenly met with grass and dirt. You fall, that was for sure. But you had fallen into the other side of the camp. To everyone’s surprise, there was no barrier separating both camps anymore.

“Did just the barrier…” Caleb asked Evan. “What did just the entity do?”

“Allowing what was not allowed.” Evan sounded happy. The entity’s plan was working.

You didn’t have time to enjoy your new freedom nor did you killer friends. As soon you got up you went straight to Michael. Holding him by his broad shoulders, you reassured him.

“I’m here Michael! I’m here. Please come back to me.” You begged him, this time was different. You noticed his hands still struggling and clenched. You grabbed the hand that was holding the knife to see if you could easy some of that tension. Worried eyes examining his mask to catch any sign that he was okay.

Suddenly his struggling stopped and his head went down. Your hands fly up to grab his masked face only to be met by his free hand around your neck, squeezing tightly.

“Dude what are you doing?!” Danny yelled.

“Michael, it-it’s me…” Your air leaving your lungs. His hand dangerously tight around your neck. Threatening to break it right there.

“Judith…” He growled. The entity no longer had him seeing the posters of his stripper mother, his school bullies or his stepfather. Now he was having living flashbacks of his older sister, Judith.

“N-no, Michael please, y-you know me…” It was getting hard for you to speak due to the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t speak.” His hand squeezing harder. “I hate you.” The flashbacks of his selfish sister were really getting to him. It all was so real to him that without noticing he was getting his knife near your belly again.

“Dude-dude, if you killer her she’s not coming back, she’s it coming back Michael!” Danny said trying his best to help you. Michael looked at him for one second or two, then he continued to reach for your belly. In a desperate measure, Danny took off his ghostface mask and grabbed Michael’s hand that was holding his signature kitchen knife.

“Mike, who am i?” Danny asked. Another desperate attempt to make him come back to himself.

“L-loomis.” Michael growled at him.

“No, Michael you know me, come on! Who am i? He asked again.

“D-danny..Danny.” Michael said. You could see the tears in his eyes. He was fighting this.

“Good! Good, now, who is she? You got this you know her.” Danny cheered him up. Michael looked at you, eyebrows frowned.

“J-j…Judidth.”

“No..” You left out a sight. You cried even harder when you noticed Michael raising the knife up.

“Dude stop!!” Danny yelled again, this time ready to do something about it but Kazan had to hold him down.

“Let me go Kazan!”

“You’re only going to make it worst.” He stated, holding Danny down.

“Michael..” You sobbed. You prepared yourself when he got ready to stab you. One final stab, and you were going to see dark…fall to eternal sleep. One last thing scaped your mouth before closing your eyes.

“I love you, Michael Myers…” it was low, you hadn’t much air left. But you didn’t want to leave this world without letting him know this. You glue shut your eyes one last time to embrace his final stab. You even heard Danny screaming “Stop!! Stop it!!!” You were ready now, waiting patiently for your inevitable fate. You flinched your eyes anticipating the blade, but the blade cutted through nothing. You opened your eyes. Somehow you succeeded to get Micheal back. The entity’s plan had worked without you even noticing. He let you fell to the ground so as he did with his knife. Danny and Kazan ran to help you get up. You tried to reach for Michael’s arms but he rejected your touch.

“No…i-i” That was all he could say.

“It’s not your fault Michael.” You assure him. But he just took off leaving the three of you there. He wasn’t the only one afraid to keep touching you it appear. Danny hand left your arm and Kazan took a step back. You gave them a “I’m not following you guys” look.

“It’s just that…this barrier thing, never happened before. We never touched you before, none other than to kill you ir sacrifice you…” Danny spoke for both of them, Kazan and himself.

You reached your hand to Danny’s uncovered face, and cupped it in your warmth. He embrace it immediately. Closing his eyes and smiling.

“You look better with the mask off.” You laughed, he did the same.

“If you say so…”

“Kazan…come here!” You told him with opened arms. He seemed hesitant at first.

“Come…” You insisted, smiling.

“Hug?” He asked.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. The tenderness in his hug cought you by surprise for such a big and buffed man like him.

You stayed like that for a few minutes until Michael was the topic of conversation again. You asked Danny where he might have gone.

“I think I know where..” He said.

The single Street and the kind of trees in the block gave the map away very fast. You were again on Haddonfield.

“I know he sometimes comes here to make mask or whenever he feels bad or angry…I don’t know which house it’s his house tho.” Danny explained.

“Oh don’t worry I know which one is it.” You looked at his still uncovered face.

“Okay, good luck New Girl…if he doesn’t speak right away you should come back later.” He said ready to leave when you said one last thing to him.

“You know Danny…your not that bad after all.” It was the first time he heard you call him by his real name, it always had been “hey ghost!” Or “Ghostie!” It felt good hearing that coming from someone he considered a friend.

“You know y/n…Michael wasn’t wrong after all.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You did made us human after all.” You smiled at his statement then he walks back to the camp.

Once you reach Michael’s house you stepped in. Thinking to yourself he must be upstairs you went up. There was only one room with its door opened. Michael must be in there. You were reaching the end of the stairs, walking as slowly as possible to not give your self away. The house wasn’t helping much tho, with each step you made the wood underneath you cracked. He wasn’t unnoticed to the sound he thought perhaps was the wind since he had the windows open. Your small frame compared to his made a silhouette on his door frame.

Once inside his room you could see he had fully decorated its walls with handmade masks he had done himself. Just like in the movie, but that was on the prison cell instead of his real room. You saw him sat in a chair near a wooden desk. His mask still on, his head was down. His chest moving up and down.

"Michael…" You soft voice soothed his ears. He looked at his left, letting you know he knew you were there. "I'm not here to fight you. Not anymore." You said. Michael didn't react. His breathing sounded soft. Him not having any type of reaction made you move closer to him, until you were besides him. Your left hand resting on his right shoulder. Your eyes wondering the masks hanged on the wall in front of you.

"They are beautiful. You know that?" You told him giving his right shoulder little masages. He looked up to contemplate them. You didn't know how you went from looking masks to have him face to face again and your back pressed yo the wall. By now you were expecting nothing less than a kiss. He grabbed you by both your shoulders and lowered his head until it was pressed against your left collarbone.

This is not a kiss. You thought.

Soft sobs could be heard behind his mask, they were muffled by the same, but you were able to hear them. Then suddenly, he spoke again.

“I’m so…so sorry.” Your heart melted at his words and you couldn’t resist but to hold him tight against your little chest compared to his. More muffled sobs coming from Him.

“It’s okay…I’m the one that should be apologizing.” You replied back.

“You already did.” He lift his head to look at you.

You felt the urge to know how he looked behind that mask. What was he hiding. You didn’t have to take out his mask to know he was beautiful. Took your hand move to the edge of it. Michael moved his head back, hesistant.

“Let me see you Mike.” Hearing you calling him Mike was all he needed.

Pulling the mask up with little effort was necessary to take it off. And just as you spectated, he has long blond curly hair, blueish eyes a big, but yet straight nose, and plump heart shaped lips. A beautiful face, just as you thought. You cupped his face with your hands just as you did with Danny.

“You’re beautiful Michael.” Your voice like a sweet whisper. He touched your lips with his thumb, caressing them like it was a newly found treasure. His treasure.

The feeling of his chapped lips on yours was inevitable. Tho he seemed to be the first to started it, as soon as he started he wanted to finish, scared you wouldn’t like it. But you insisted to kiss him longer. You wanted more. It didn’t matter that his lips were chapped. Eventually you two separated to get some air.

“You’re beautiful.” You reassured him again. He put his forehead against yours.

“And you’re the most beautiful human I ever seen.” He replied, voice deep and low. “Y/n?” He added.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” He finally said it. Finally admitted it and gave it a name.

A little time went by and now you were sitting on his lap seeing how he made masks. Your left arm wrapped around his shoulders for support.

“So, I put more glue over here and…we are done.” He was showing you how he made his masks.

“This seems interesting to make.” You replied.

“Are you sure you never done this before?” His mouth forming a little smile. Not fully believing you never done a paper mask before.

“Oh well…you caught me. I did. But a like to see you make them.” You said honestly.

“How cute.” Your heart flinched at his words and your cheeks flushed. “I like it when you flush”

“Stop it Michael!” You gave him a little tug on his coverall.

“Never.” He said looking into your eyes and give your nose a quick kiss.

You spent the rest of the night like this, laughing your lungs out and doing disasters with his glue.

That night loud voices were heard at Haddonfield. The difference this time was that Michael wasn’t alone, he had the best company he could’ve asked for.

I hope you enjoyed this! Sorry if there’s misspellings, English it’s not my mother language, have mercy please 🥹 I’m open to requests!!

[monstersflashlight]

Day 10. Monster-kinktober: Eyes everywhere + Double penetration/Voyeurism

A/N: This is thanks to @yesdangerpls and the general braindstorming of the discord server (reminder that if you are a Patreon you can join).

Forest entity x Multiple monsters x fem!reader || Free use, voyeurism, bondage, tentacle sex (vines), sharing is caring, double penetration, blindfolds

He makes sure you are tied correctly so your body is suspended in mid air by his vines, and your eyes are covered by big leaves he created to “not hurt your soft human skin”, his words. He’s nowhere to be seen, but you can feel him in every twitch of the vines around your body, in every caress of the breeze across your naked body. He’s not there, but he’s everywhere.

As soon as the night falls, you can feel thousands of eyes on you. The forest waking up as your body reacts accordingly, getting hot with anticipation, fire burning in your lower stomach. It’s exhilarating to be exposed for everyone to see, for everyone to use.

And it feels amazing.

You can’t see anything, your eyes completely covered, but you can hear them around you. Steps and growls, some roars and a few soft whimpers. You don’t know what’s happening, but before you can process it fully, one of his vines twitches around your ankle, pushing your legs further apart and exposing to whoever is in front of you.

You hear them sniffling, and then you feel a rough tongue against your leg. You twitch in your restrains, startled by the movement, the monster growls and you groan in response, your pussy getting wet with anticipation. The tongue travels up and up and up… and by the time it licks over your needy center you are about to scream. But he wouldn’t let you disturb the peace of the forest, so a vine is rapidly stuffed inside your mouth. You moan around it, their tongue working you into a frenzy of sensations. They are feasting on your pussy and you are unable to do anything about it. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

The first orgasm catches you off guard, and the vines tighten around your body to keep you still as they take their fill, licking every drop of your desire until they are satisfied. But you aren’t alone for much longer, the tip of some cock right there. Whatever monster in front of you grunts in recognition, their clawed fingers running down your inner tights making your breath catch in your throat as their dick presses inside. They aren’t that big, not bigger than your mate, but you feel every ridge of their cock against your walls, making you whimper with over-sensitivity after the orgasm.

You know he’s looking when the vines around your body tighten, some of them exploring your body as the monster before you grunts and pounds into you faster. The combination of the dick inside of you and the vines exploring your body makes your body transcend into a new reality where you are the soul of the forest and your body is for every monster to use.

They pound into you until your brain is melting and your body is limp, one after the other, orgasm after orgasm… Some lick, some fuck, and others only explore your holes until you are coming around their wandering fingers. He never releases you, and the vines in your mouth never leave, only letting you brokenly moan and groan with each new sensation.

By the time the fifth (maybe sixth?) dick pushes inside of you, you are tired and exhausted, but still so freaking horny you don’t know what to do with yourself. But he knows, of course he knows. He teases your asshole with another vine, the dick in your pussy twitching when the vine pushes in, caressing his dick across the thin flesh between your holes. The sensation is indescribable, making the monster spill inside of you as the vine fucks the orgasm out of them.

When the monster pulls out of your pussy, you feel their release leaking out with all the other before them, and the mixed sensation of the vine in your ass and the maddening fucking you experienced is enough to make you explode into a huge orgasm. Your legs and arms are tingling, and your pussy contracts around the vines firmly fucking into you. The keep going until you can feel your body sagging against the restrains and a sweet smell reaches your nostrils. The vines pull back at the same time he walks to you.

“You did so great, my mate. You the perfect little human for all of us, for me,” he whispers behind you.

The vines around your body slowly start disappearing back into his body as his wooden hands grab you by the waist. He hugs you against his body and you hid your face against the vines and roots of his neck. He smells like petrichor, and you feel like everything is right in the world when you are pressed against his hard body. The sacrifice to the forest was made, your mate remains the caregiver of them all, and now you are one, too.

“Take me home,” you whisper as he kisses your forehead.

“Of course, my mate, you did so well…” He compliments you again, his voice full of affection. Your body is too tired to keep your eyes open anymore. “Sleep, my mate, I’ll keep you safe.”

[ozzgin]

So I was reading Forest Entity, and was curious, do you like predator/prey dynamics in a horny way where one runs and the other basically chases them? Like the thrill of the chase yknow

- C

I think I've seen the trope mentioned before, though I never personally considered it. I have a big fear of being chased, which is why the horny version never crossed my mind. :')

Would it be something doable with the Forest Entity? Absolutely. You're stuck in the middle of nowhere with an ancient, creaky, old creature. Anything goes, as long as it entertains you.

I just had the funny thought of asking the Forest Entity if it could chase you down. Mind you, it's slow. Its heavy body groans across the shaded ground as it methodically traces your scent. You wonder if this was a good idea, after all. There's no way it'll ever catch up. How was it even planning on preventing your escape?

Then you suddenly feel it. You prepare to take another step, but your foot remains in place. Glancing down, you notice a thick vine slithering its way up your leg.

I thought you were supposed to run?

A deep, disembodied voice rumbles and echoes against the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. The trees hunch towards you, blocking the path and swallowing up the faint light that had been guiding you.

Ah. You seem to have forgotten one small, vital detail. You were running away from the monster, yet you never truly left its space. The entire forest sways in tandem to its orders.

Another mossy tendril tightens itself around your waist.

Perhaps I'll warm you up before my arrival, the harrowing voice announces.

[Forest Entity] | [More Monsters]

[dewdropdinosaur]

Sweet Suffering - A Dead by Hazbin Production

Summary: You weaved across the map, generator after generator starting to hum with life. So close to the end, the door nearly in sight. But he stalked you every night. And this time you wouldn't escape him. Warning: Smut, P in V, slight dub con, public sex, oral sex, sub/dom dynamics, possesiveness, yandere Zestial, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. WOHOO! Happy Halloween! I want to thank @fraugwinska and @macabr3-barbi3 for setting up this event. Go check out the other Dead by Hazbin fics/art on Tumblr and Ao3!

Notes: Human!Zestial x Reader → Human appearance but still has demon powers. 7e38b1d2762744aebaa89a641b39bb5b.jpg F2d0040f-d3e5-40b9-aadb-e76bcd7bb0af-1-5-400x0.webp For the loves of my horny heart @xalygatorx and @kewpikayo

The fog curled around the trees like a living thing, twisting and distorting the very fabric of reality. Zestial, found himself in this nightmarish landscape, drawn by the thrill of the hunt and the allure of control. Killed unfortunately by an attack from Heaven, The Entity offered him revenge and rewarded him well for his work, as he served dutifully. 

Landing in the Garden of Joy, nestled properly in the Gazebo, he waited for the game to begin.

He prowled the parking lot with a predatory grace, his eyes glinting with a mix of hunger and something darker. His prey was you, a survivor with a fierce determination and a spirit that intrigued him. You had survived each killer and round thus far, sometimes single-handedly starting every generator and making it to the exit gate.. Beguiling every attack and every attempt. 

As he spotted you sprinting through the underbrush, heart pounding, he felt an inexplicable pull—a sick attraction that stirred something deeper within him.

You ducked behind a crumbling wall, breath coming in frantic gasps. You could hear him, the way his footsteps echoed with confidence, each step a reminder that you were not alone in this twisted game. The thrill of survival sent adrenaline coursing through your veins, catching sight of Zestial’s silhouette against the dim light, his green eyes glinting in the moonlight sending a shiver down your spine. He had always been quick, sparing no one. The Entity loved him for that, the lack of mercy satiated Her appetite. 

Zestial's voice, smooth and taunting, slithered through the air. “You can’t hide forever, darling. The game has only just begun.” He relished the chase, the way you darted from one hiding spot to another, each movement a dance of desperation that captivated him. He loved this part the most. As you weave through the obstacles, quickly jumping from one generator to the next, like a firefly flickering in the darkness. And he, the moth, was drawn to your light. With each close call, he felt a twisted thrill—every encounter more electrifying than the last, the line between hunter and hunted blurring.

In a moment, everything was still. No rustling of leaves, no wind blowing across the Gazebo. All five generators are up and running. This was it, the chance to escape. Finally heading towards the exit gate, in a flash of black and green, you stumbled over a log; and Zestial seized the opportunity. He appeared before you in a wisp of black smoke, towering and imposing, but there was an odd gentleness in his gaze. “Why dost thou run?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don't thou want to indulge me, darling?”

Your heart raced, not just from fear but something mild stirred within your chest at the sight of his eyes. Piercingly green, like a cool spring day in the mountains as rain fell upon a forest. One could easily sense the darkness within him, yet something about his intensity called out. “I don’t want to play.” you shot back, voice firm despite your body’s trembling.

Zestial’s smirk widened, intrigued by the defiance. “Ah, but that’s the beauty of it. Thou art challenge. And challenges make the hunt worthwhile.” He leaned closer, his voice low and seductive, “Thou thinkest you can escape me, but I promise, I’ll always find you.”

With a sudden burst of energy, you dash away, heart pounding as you navigate the maze of trees and debris. But Zestial was relentless, shadows clinging to him like a second skin. He reveled in the chase, the thrill of the hunt intertwining with a dangerous obsession.

One glancing encounter became a twisted dance—a game of cat and mouse where every near miss only heightened the tension. Each time he caught a glimpse of your defiance, Zestial felt that sick attraction grew. Sprinting towards the exit gate, a glimmer of hope surges through your heart. But Zestial was already there, blocking the path, a predator cornering its prey. “Thou canst escape, my dear,” he purred, his voice a blend of danger and allure. “And honestly, why would thou want to?”

You stood your ground, trembling but unyielding. “I won’t let you take me,” you declare, determination shining through the fear. At that moment, Zestial’s expression shifted, a flicker of something almost resembling respect sparking in his eyes. “Then let’s see how far thee can run,” he replied, stepping back, giving you a chance to flee—just this once. The Entity loved the delicious emotions that emitted from his victims, She would certainly enjoy this one.

Taking off, heart pounding, mind racing; your legs were pumping as hard as they could go, sweat making hair stick to the nape of your neck. You didn’t know what this strange occurrence meant, but one thing was clear: in this deadly game, Zestial was more than just a hunter. He was a game master, enjoying the sick thrill of the hunt. 

Wisps of shadow danced around tauntingly, Zestials cold laugh echoing throughout the parking lot. Veering left, right, and center; no escape was possible from the cold bitter gaze that followed you wherever you went. You could feel your legs starting to give out, the harsh underbrush cutting them to oblivion. And yet, mercy was not in the cards today. 

Without warning, Zestial appeared in front of you, wielding a malicious-looking scythe over his shoulder, the bloody blade glinting in the moonlight. He held the old and elegant weapon with ease, having wielded the weapon for a long while. 

 “Tch, tch. I thought thou would get farther my dear. I am disappointed in thee.” Backing up in fright and looking around frantically for any route of escape, you found none. 

“Please, come on. Can’t we work something out–” Taking a breath, summoning the last vestiges of courage. “Wait!” you shouted, voice trembling. Zestial paused, curiosity flickering in his cold gaze. “Deals…you like deals. I know you do. You…bargain with your victims.”

His lips curled into a smirk, a predatory gleam igniting his eyes. “And what could a survivor like thee possibly offer me?”

Desperation clawed at your insides. “Whatever you want…just please. I–I don’t want to die….”

He tilted his head, the air thick with tension. “Thou thinkest yourself so brave?”

Gulping, mild confusion spread across your features at his words. “Just…name your price.” 

Zestial’s laughter echoed through the trees, deep and menacing. “Interesting, indeed. Very well.” Stalking forward with calculated steps, his long robe dragged across the ground, making it look like he was a grim reaper coming to take you away. Swinging the scythe off his shoulder, Zestial brought the tip of the blade to lift the edge of your chin; he could end it all right here. One slice and it would all be over. But the thought of having a bargaining chip, to extend this already oh-so-delicious chase, the mere idea taunted his conscience. The Entity wouldn’t mind, She would love the scrumptious emotions he was about to pull out of this defiant survivor. 

Sliding the blade lower, it scratched the surface of your collarbone, leaving a small trickle of blood in its wake. His proximity is overwhelming, his presence dominating completely. Grinning down at your wild eyes, clearly enjoying the control he has. He leans in even closer, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear; voice now a low, seductive murmur.

"Tell me," he says, his tone smooth and commanding. "Dost thou know what I can do to thee? Dost thou know the power I hold over thee?"

You gulp, the sting of the blade sending shivers down your spine. This shouldn’t be this attractive, this killer, this monster shouldn’t be the object of any affection. Yet he is. "Oh, my dear," he says, "Thou continue to underestimate me. I have so many ways to make thee submit, to show thee who's in charge here."

He leans in closer, his lips now nearly brushing against you as he speaks."Would thou likest a demonstration?" he whispers. "A little taste of what thou hast agreed to?"Zestial’s eyes light up with a cold intensity as he grins down at you, clearly relishing the challenge. Nodding dumbly, awestruck by the scene unfolding before your eyes; his touch, the blood dripping down your chest, the arousal pooling in your pants, it’s almost all too overwhelming to bear.

"Very well, my dear," he says, his tone still smooth and commanding. "Thou hast asked for it. Just remember, thou hast brought this upon thyself." With that, he swipes his blade down, tearing your shirt in two. Gasping at the sudden cool air that hits your torso and attempting to shield yourself with your arms, Zestial will not allow it. He grabs your chin in a firm grip, forcing your gaze to meet his own. His eyes burn with determination, a small inkling of something that lurks beneath the black and green orbs before he slams his lips onto your chapped ones. His lips trail kisses down your neck, his hands now roaming over your hips, squeezing gently. 

"Thou canst keep fighting me all thou wants, but in the end, thou will give in. Thou shall be mine." Zestial backs you into the nearest tree, his body now pressing you against the cold wood as he devours your neck. His tongue explores the soft, sensitive flesh, claiming it as his own. Pulling back, mind reeling with emotions, you break the kiss. Panting, hair disheveled, you can’t help but marvel at the string of saliva that connected your lips. This was too much, too insane even for you, the one stuck and supposedly succeeding in this wretched game. While continued life was promised, was having relations with this most infamous killer really worth it? How did you know he would keep his promise, why was the Entity allowing this? Question after question floods your mind, a mirage of emotions and apprehensions. 

Sensing this, Zestial bends to nip at your neck, making you let out a soft moan. His eyes darken as he grins at your weakened and pliant state, the hoarseness of your voice a clear indication of the effect he's had. "Thou thinkest thou can fight this, my dear?" he says, his voice now a low growl, "Thou thinkest thee can resist my power?"

He pins his arms around you once more, inching closer, eyes fixated on the way your chest rises and falls with each gasp for air. "Thou hast already lost," he murmurs, his voice filled with a seductive menace. "Thou art too stubborn to admit it. My perfect little survivor…” Mewling in protest as he continues the assault on your neck, his lips slowly maneuvering down to suck at your breast, you desperately try to remove him. 

"Mmm, keep denying it," he whispers, his lips now moving to your hips as he sinks to his knees "But thine body betrays thee, my dear. It responds so perfectly to my touch, so willingly."

Pulling down your pants, he is hit with the luscious scent of arousal staining your underwear. Diving into your clothed cunt, not caring to remove the offending article, he sucks and laps at the juices that continue to seep through. His mind drifts to the various ways he plans on ravishing you, the images only adding to his growing desire; his own evident by the tightening of his pants. Every so often, his gaze drifts over to look into your lust-blown eyes, taking in the appearance of the way sweat clings to your chest. He can tell your pulse is racing and it drives him mad. The feeling of your blood rushing, the noises she emits, the way the blood on your neck trickles down over the way he marks your flesh, it’s driving him insane. 

Tangling your hands in his hair, the pleasure slowly mounts as he continues his assault. You can feel him shudder as you rake your nails on his shoulders, leaving a trail of faint red lines in their way. Settling your hands to tangle and tug on his hair, moaning and arching into his wicked embrace; only serves to stoke the fires of his desire even higher. Finally deciding to remove your panties, Zestial lets them pool at your ankles as he plunges two fingers into your weeping pussy, using his tongue to now lick at your clit. Stretching you open, he adds a third finger; scissoring you wide. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body involuntarily shifts away from the overstimulation. Digging his other hand into your hip, Zestial holds you in place.

“Unless thou would like to be restrained, it would fare thee well to heed my advisories…A second attempt on my part shall not be made…”

The thoughts and stimulation nearly have you cumming on the spot, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push over the edge. Out on display for the world to see, taken ruthlessly against this tree by this dangerously handsome man is enough to have you about to burst. Smirking, Zestial enjoys the way his fingers are squelching in and out of your cunt, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life. 

“Thou shalt not deny me of thine embrace–”

Feeling the tension build, the coil in your stomach snapping; you cry out in pleasure. Cum now coated his fingers, a glittering white substance in the heat of the darkness. Sucking on them, he moaned at the taste, eyeing Y/N’s weak and disheveled form. He could kill her right now, have his fill. But there was so much more fun to have with her alive.

“Thou art mine now, I own thee, my darling. Thou art mine...willingly or unwillingly…” he mutters, his voice low and possessive. 

 “And I'm going to show thee just how good it feels to be mine.”

THE END

[doumadono]

When the stars align - Urogi x Reader

Warnings: some angst Synopsis: while searching the forest for your missing father, you come across a demonic entity Requested by: @crystalwolfblog - I hope you'll enjoy it 💛

MASTERLIST

Urogi hovered above the forest, his wings spread wide as he scanned the area for any potential prey. As an Upper Rank Four demon, he was used to the thrill of the hunt, but something about this particular night had him feeling restless. He had been sent on a mission to search for any humans who might be wandering too close to demon territory. As he flew, his keen senses picked up on a faint scent, and he followed it to the source. Suddenly, his sharp senses picked up on a presence nearby. Urogi swooped down, his powerful muscles propelling him towards his target. And there you were - a human girl, wandering alone in the woods. He saw you from a distance - you were young, with a small lamp in your shaking hand, your face twisted in confusion and fear. Urogi could see that you were lost and alone. He swooped down silently, landing a few feet away from you.

Urogi's eyes locked onto you, taking in every detail of your delicate form: your hair was a Y/H/C, cascading in waves down your back, you wore a simple dress and a dark haori on top of it.

After looking arund, you screamed when you saw him, and Urogi could see the fear in your eyes. He thought about devouring you right there, but as he drew closer, he noticed the way you trembled and shook in his presence. He realized that he was feeling something else entirely - a desire to keep you as his own.

He moved closer to you, and you stumbled back, tripping over a tree root and falling to the ground. Urogi stepped forward, looming over you, his wings unfurled to their full length. You cowered before him, but he could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of your fear.

"Why are you out here, little one?" Urogi asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

"I… I was looking for my father," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Urogi chuckled, the sound sending shivers down the your spine. "Well, you won't find him out here. This is demon territory. He's most likely long gone already."

You whimpered, and Urogi felt a rush of pleasure at your fear. He reached out and took you by the arm, pulling you to your feet.

"Let me go!" you cried, struggling against him. "Please, I don't want to die!"

Urogi chuckled, his voice low and menacing. "I'm not going to kill you, little one," he uttered. "But you do belong to me now."

You didn't resist as Urogi pulled you into his arms; you were so small and fragile against him, and he felt a strange protectiveness rising within him. Your eyes widened in fear, but Urogi could sense your curiosity as well. "You… You're a demon… Is this even possible?"

Urogi's face wore a grin. "Very astute of you, my dear," he cooed.

As he took off into the sky, you clung to him, your small frame pressed tightly against his muscular chest. Urogi was acutely aware of the rapid pounding of your heart, like a tiny, wild creature desperately trying to escape its cage, and he wondered if you could feel the heat of his own heart pounding in his chest. As you soared through the night sky, Urogi held you tightly, his golden eyes glittering with amusement.

You flew for what felt like hours, you growing quieter and more still in his arms. Finally, Urogi landed in a clearing deep in the forest. He set you down gently and watched as you looked around in wonder.

"Why did you bring me here?" you asked, rubbing your arms, your voice soft and timid.

"I want to keep you," he said simply, his vice a little raspy. "You'll be mine from now on."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with fear and confusion. "You… You can't just keep me like that…"

Urogi's deep voice rumbled as he spoke, "I can keep you because I am a demon. My kind has no boundaries, no rules - we take what we want, and we keep it for as long as we desire." His golden eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity as he looked down at you, his powerful arms wrapped around your trembling form. "You belong to me now, and I will never let you go."

You trembled in Urogi's grasp, your voice shaking as you begged him to let you go. "Please, I can't stay with you," you pleaded. "I have a little sibling to take care of, and I went into the forest to look for my father. He didn't return from the hunt, and I had to find him."

Urogi's grip tightened, his expression hardening as he heard your words. "Your father is likely dead," he growled, being blunt with his statement. "You should forget about him and stay with me. I will take care of you, you will never have to worry about anything again."

But you refused to give up. "I can't abandon my family," you insisted, your voice becoming firmer. "Please, let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone about you. I'll keep your secret safe." You looked up at the demon with a glimmer of hope in your eyes, asking him if he would let you go. But his response was a firm no, leaving you crestfallen.

"My desires are not subject to the whims of mortals," he declared, letting go of your waist and turning around. "You will stay with me, and you will learn to love it. Resistance is futile."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, realizing that there was no arguing with him. For better or for worse, you were now at the mercy of this powerful demon, and there was nothing you could do to change that. You slowly sank to your knees, feeling the weight of your situation crushing down on you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you knew it, you were sobbing uncontrollably.

Urogi watched you with an impassive expression, seemingly unmoved by your tears. But as your sobs grew louder, he let out a sigh and crouched down beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Crying is just for weak mortals," he exclaimed, his tone cold and unfeeling. "And you, my dear, are too pretty to be crying like a baby."

His words did little to console you, and you continued to cry into your hands. But as the minutes ticked by, your sobs slowly began to subside.

"How can you say that?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion. "I have a right to feel upset. You've taken me away from everything I know and love, and you're refusing to let me go."

As Urogi watched you, he couldn't help but notice the way your body trembled with fear and sadness. Your chin quivered as you tried to hold back your tears, and your scent had shifted from sweet to sour due to the extreme stress you were under. For the first time since he had captured you, Urogi felt a pang of guilt. He had never considered the impact his actions would have on you, seeing you so vulnerable and frightened made him realize the gravity of what he had done. He stood up, stepping away from you for a moment, deep in thought. He had never felt empathy towards humans before, let alone guilt, but something about you was different. Maybe it was the way you refused to give up, or the way you stood up to him despite his cruel words. Either way, he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Urogi paced back and forth, his thoughts whirling. He had always believed that humans were weak and inferior, but looking at you now, he was beginning to see things differently. Finally, he stopped pacing and turned to you, his expression softening a little. "I'm sorry."

You looked up at him, surprise and disbelief written on your face. You never expected a demon to show any kind of remorse, let alone apologize. But as you studied his expression, you could see a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes. As you stood up and dusted off your dress, you looked at him with a mix of surprise and suspicion. "Why are you apologizing to me? You're a demon…"

"I can't explain it," he declared, his tone sincere. "You have a fire in your soul, a determination to keep going no matter what. I admire that." After saying these words, the demon simply left.

A heavy silence descended upon the forest. You could hear the rustling of leaves, the chirping of crickets, and the occasional hoot of an owl. The air was cool and crisp, and you shivered slightly, pulling your haori tighter around your shoulders.

Urogi made his way through the forest, his mind consumed with thoughts of the encounter he had just had with you. Eventually, he came to a small stream that flowed through the forest. He sat down at the edge, his thoughts still racing through his mind. He stared into the water, watching as it flowed past him, lost in his own thoughts. Urogi's feelings of guilt and remorse were a new experience for him. As a demon, he had always been taught that emotions were a weakness and that he should embrace his demonic nature to the fullest. However, his encounter with you had stirred something within him, something he had never felt before. He was so lost in his own world that he didn't even notice that you had followed him to the stream.

As you watched him from a distance, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity and intrigue towards the demon. Despite everything that had happened, there was something fascinating about him.

As you approached him, Urogi finally looked up and noticed your presence. At first, he was surprised to see you, but then he quickly regained his composure. "You followed me," he commented, his voice calm and measured.

You nodded silently, not sure what to say.

"Why did you follow me?"

"I don't know," you admitted. "I guess I was curious. And you left me alone in the middle of the forest."

The demon gestured for you to come closer and sit beside him.

For a while, the two of you sat there in silence, watching the stream flow past.

You could feel demon's eyes on you, studying you carefully. It was a strange feeling, but you couldn't deny that there was something comforting about his presence. "How long were you a demon?" You broke the silence with a question.

Urogi hesitated for a moment before answering your question. He had always been a demon for as long as he could remember, and the concept of time was different for him than it was for mortals like you. "Long enough to have seen countless mortals come and go, to have witnessed the rise and fall of empires, and to have experienced things that would be beyond your imagination." He looked at you with his piercing golden eyes, as if he were trying to convey the weight of his experience through his gaze alone. "But despite all that, I have never encountered someone like you before. You are different from all the mortals I have encountered, and I cannot explain why."

"It must have been difficult for you. Living as a demon, you must have felt isolated and alone at times."

Urogi turned to you with a hint of disbelief in his eyes as he heard your words. He scoffed, a low rumble emanating from his chest, as he shook his head. "You do not understand, woman," he grunted, his voice heavy with frustration. "I am a demon. My nature is to feed on the flesh of humans! Compassion and empathy have no place in my world, and I don't feel alone. I like it the way it is, woman!"

"But you didn't devour me yet," you whispered softly, trying to catch his attention. You could have easily done it when you caught me, but you didn't. And you even apologized for it. That must mean something, right?"

Urogi turned around to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered your words. He leant towards you, his wings slightly unfurled as he grabbed your shoulder, yanking you closer to him. "That is none of your concern!"

Without thinking, you lifted your hand and pressed it gently against his cheek. Despite his fearsome appearance, his skin was surprisingly smooth and soft to the touch, almost like silk. You could feel the coolness of his skin against your warm fingertips, sending a shiver down your spine. You had expected his skin to be rough or even scaly, given his demonic nature, but instead it was almost delicate. You wondered how it could be so soft and yet so cold at the same time, and you couldn't help but be fascinated by the sensation.

Urogi blinked in surprise at your touch, and you felt a thrill of excitement run through you. For a moment, you forgot about your fear and your uncertainty, lost in the sensation of touching a demon.

But then Urogi's hand shot out and caught yours, his grip tight and unyielding. "Do not touch me," he hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You do not know what you are dealing with."

For a long moment, the two of you stared at each other, locked in a tense and dangerous embrace.

You could feel the weight of demon's presence bearing down on you. "I'm not afraid of you. You had plenty of time to attack and kill me, but you didn't. I just know that you won't hurt me."

Urogi's expression hardened for a moment, but then softened again as he looked away from you. "You shouldn't be so sure, woman."

"My name is Y/N."

"I don't care about your name!"

There was a moment of silence between the two of you.

"I go by Urogi," the demon replied finally.

You repeated Urogi's name out loud, savouring the sound of it on your lips. "Urogi," you whispered, looking up at him with a small smile. "I like the way it sounds. It's unique."

Urogi looked at you for a moment before averting his gaze, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention. "That's not important."

You hesitated before finally mustering up the courage to ask him something that had been on your mind for a while. "Urogi, can I ask you something?"

Urogi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What is it, Y/N?"

You took a deep breath before speaking again. "Can I… touch your wings?" you asked, feeling a bit embarrassed at the request.

After long moment of thinking, he gave you a brief nod. "I guess you can."

You shifted closer to Urogi, and gently ran your fingers over the feathers of his wings. They were surprisingly soft to the touch, and you couldn't help but marvel at their size and beauty.

Urogi watched you with a hint of amusement in his eyes, his lips parted slightly at the pleasurable feeling spreading all over his form.

"They're beautiful," you whispered quietly, slowly raising your gaze to meet his golden eyes. "You are beautiful…"

Urogi blinked again, taken aback by your sudden statement. He couldn't believe that you weren't afraid of him, despite knowing that he was a powerful demon. It was rare for him to encounter a human who would willingly touch him, let alone compliment his appearance. He slowly lay down on the grass, looking up at the stars in the dark night sky.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of peace as you lay next to Urogi, watching the stars twinkle in the night sky. The soft sound of the stream nearby and the rustling of the leaves in the wind created a soothing atmosphere. You turned your head to look at Urogi, who seemed lost in thought as he stared up at the sky.

You and Urogi were watching the stars aligning, marveling at the beauty of the night sky. The twinkling stars formed patterns and constellations that seemed to hold secrets and stories of their own. The soft breeze brushed against your skin, carrying with it a sweet fragrance of night. The stars glimmered brightly in the dark night sky, painting the heavens with their twinkling light. The moon was also visible, casting a pale glow over the forest and illuminating Urogi's face.

You wondered what was going through his mind, what kind of thoughts and memories demons had. Did they have families and loved ones like humans did? Or were they solitary creatures that only cared about satisfying their own desires? You didn't want to break the silence, afraid that it would ruin the peaceful moment. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill your lungs. You could feel Urogi's warmth radiating next to you, and it was comforting. You took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to speak. "Maybe we can be friends?"

Urogi turned his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be considering your words carefully before he spoke. "Why would you want to be friends with a demon like me?" his tone cautious.

"I don't believe that being a demon automatically makes you a bad soul. I think there's more to you than just your intimidating appearance or your powers."

Urogi didn't respond for a few moments, and you began to worry that you had overstepped your boundaries. But then he let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes again. "Alright, Y/N. We can give it a try."

As you shared the story of your father's disappearance and your family's situation, Urogi listened intently, his expression softening slightly. You could sense that he was trying to understand your perspective, despite being a demon. You explained to him about your responsibilities as an older sibling and the various activities that you and your family do as humans. You talked about how you help your mother with chores and look after your younger siblings. You also shared your love for music and the joy it brings to your life.

Urogi listened attentively, but with a hint of skepticism in his expression. When you mentioned taking care of your younger siblings and helping around the house, Urogi scoffed. To him, these seemed like weak and mundane tasks. He noticed something peculiar: your eyes sparkled with passion and determination, and your heart poured out with every word you spoke. Despite the mundaneness of your everyday life, you carried yourself with an unwavering sense of purpose and duty. Deep down, Urogi knew that he would do anything to protect you from harm. It was a feeling he couldn't quite explain, but he couldn't deny it either. He found himself wanting to be near you, to keep you safe, and to learn more about the human world that you came from.

After noticing you shiver from the coldness of the night, Urogi sat up and gestured for you to get closer to him.

You happily obliged, getting closer until you were nestled up against his side.

Urogi's wings enveloped you, shielding you from the chill, and you felt a warm tingle spread throughout your body as his body heat seeped into yours.

You couldn't believe how comfortable you felt, snuggled up against a demon who had only moments ago kidnapped you. But as you sat there, listening to the sound of his steady breaths and feeling the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of safety and security that you had never experienced before. As his wings wrapped tightly around you, you could feel the soft feathers brushing against your skin, and you couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. It was a strange comfort, being held by a demon, but you found yourself trusting him more and more as the night went on.

You began to rub the insides of his wings gently, feeling the texture of the feathers under your fingertips. Urogi let out a soft purring noise, and you couldn't help but smile at the sound. It was a strange sight, a demon with wings being comforted by a human, but in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As the sky started to brighten, you realized that the dawn was approaching. "You know, Urogi, even though you're a demon, your embrace and comfort make me feel happy… I'm grateful that you didn't leave me alone in the woods."

Urogi reluctantly unwrapped his wings from around you, signaling that it was time for you to part ways.

You stood up and brushed the dirt off your clothes, turning to face the demon.

Urogi rose to his feet, his wings rustling as he shook off the dirt that clung to them. "I shall take you back to your abode," he announced, his deep voice rumbling through the air. As he gathered you into his arms, you felt the powerful beat of his wings lift you both off the ground, soaring into the sky.

Curiosity piqued, you couldn't help but inquire how Urogi would navigate his way to your home since you had neglected to provide directions.

"Fear not," he reassured you, a wry smile playing across his lips. "I shall simply follow your unique scent trail. You smell so sweet. It's hard to miss. I can follow it from a mile away."

At his words, a warmth crept into your cheeks, the implication of his words not lost on you. The way he described your scent as sweet and alluring made your heart skip a beat. You tried to compose yourself, but it was difficult with his arms wrapped around you and his wings fluttering against your skin.

As you and Urogi soared through the crisp, cool air, the landscape below transformed before your eyes. The vibrant green of the forest below was now visible, and you could make out the distant shape of a small wooden hut nestled on the edge of the trees. With a gentle descent, Urogi landed softly on the ground, and you felt the grass brush against your feet as you were placed to the ground by him.

Suddenly, your gaze caught sight of a lone figure making his way out of the thicket nearby. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the familiar silhouette of your father. Relief and joy flooded your senses as you realized he was safe and unharmed. Your eyes welled up with tears. "Urogi! It's my dad! He's alive!"

Urogi's keen eyes captured the profound joy that suffused your being, and a gentle smile graced his lips. "It's time for you to return to your family, who I'm sure must be concerned about your well-being as well as your father's. And I must ask you to promise me one thing: that you will never venture into these woods after nightfall again."

You turned to Urogi and gave him a nod. Overwhelmed with happiness, you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a tender kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Urogi. I don't know what I would have actually done without you," you whispered, feeling tears of gratitude prick at the corners of your eyes.

Urogi was taken aback; he felt a rush of warmth flood his chest as he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. Urogi's heart swelled with emotion as his wings wrapped tightly around you again. Urogi gave you one last hug, brushing a strand of your hair off your cheek, his piercing gaze meeting yours. "I hope you don't mind my impertinence, but I was wondering if you would object to my presence tomorrow evening," he inquired, his voice smooth as silk.

You could feel your heart race at his proximity, but you tried to maintain your composure. "No, I don't mind at all."

Urogi's lips curved into a faint smile, and he leaned in closer to you, his arms encircling you in a gentle embrace. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and you couldn't help but lean into him.

"Keep a watchful eye after the sunset tonight."

You nodded, silently observing Urogi's silhouette taking off and disappearing into the obscurity of the passing night.

Was it a beginning of an unlikely friendship? Only time would tell, but in that moment, it felt like a spark of connection had been made between you and Urogi. And perhaps, just maybe, he could be more than just a monster in the eyes of human.

[sgt-seabass]

ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

✧˚ · . your fairy tale life ends in a slew of blood.

pairing — witch!bucky barnes x fairy!f!reader w/c — 5.3k listening to — ♫burn the witch warnings — no use of y/n, dark elements, body horror, blood and gore, non-con, kidnapping, bondage, chasing, mild violence, use of magic for evil deeds, drugging, dead dove (don’t eat it and complain to me about it) a/n — happy halloween! thank you to @goldylions for beta-ing. all mistakes are my own. shout out to @navybrat817, @rookthorne and @vonalyn for cheering me along with this fic.

Many fairy tales had been read to you as a child, back when you were small and your wings tiny. The forest was a place for fairy kind, as were all biomes. A holy sanctuary for those with magic, where the trees hugged and created a shelter of heaven-spun leaves and branches. An unspoken promise of protection.

It was not a place to be afraid. Not even in the nighttime. For the moon, bathed in the sun's light, provided a wave of peace to the world around it. The deepened hues of a dark forest lit by starlight were a place of magical refuge.

While many normal humans would be afraid, fairy-kind was taught that forests were a place of ancient souls, like the deep sea or the clouds above. And being half-fairy, this was a teaching you received at an early age.

But the forest you woke in was unlike any story you’d heard before. This was uncharted territory.

“Tinker Bell.”

The misty voice startled you awake. Your eyes opened, immediately taking in the deep red sky. There was a blood moon above, unlike any lunar eclipse you’d seen. The red glowed across the sky and your skin, as if you were alight with the malice that lay hidden.

As you sat up, you took in your surroundings. The dark oak and spruce surrounding you stood as noble knights, protecting something from view with its thick foliage. What wanted to remain hidden?

The dirt floor was sodden with woven roots and fallen leaves, dead and decaying. The only sweetness in the air was the subtle whiff of sap, but it was entirely eclipsed by the earthy smell of rotting wood among damp, stale bark.

This was no fairy tale but a place of nightmares.

No animals scurried at the sound of you rising, no birds sang, the area seemingly barren of any life. You didn’t know how you got here but knew you needed to get out. A place like this was not something Mother Nature would have conjured.

Your heart craved the softened, freshly aromatic scent of the forest near your family home. Where the leaves were crisp, and the sun gently kissed the treetops, creating a beautiful shine. You could almost taste the lovely sweetness of the fresh berries you’d find foraging. It was the opposite of how your stomach roiled at the smell of a dying forest.

The red light made it hard to see, darkness covering every inch of land. Looking down at the muddy turf, you wondered if it was blood you stood upon. But a quick swipe through the grime confirmed it was earth. There was an oddness to the scent of the soil. You rolled it between your fingers, pursing your lips. While it was dirt, this was not dirt you would find in the human world. It did not hold the magical properties it usually would.

This meant either you’d been transported to another realm or were stuck in a plane between the layers of earth and heaven.

Your hands patted over the clothes you’d been put in. A green sundress with a red robe tied neatly with a bow around your neck. These weren’t items from your closet. They felt fresh. New.

A sense of danger prickled across your skin, goosebumps rising on your flesh and hairs standing on end. You were not alone here.

The sound of old leaves crunching sounded behind you, and it didn’t take much initiative to begin running in the other direction.

Your heart began to race as a chase started with the unknown entity. You could hear it behind you, deep breathing and grunting. It was an obstacle course trying to avoid logs and roots, while trying to stop yourself from retching due to the pungent smell of burning, decaying flesh.

Sprinting away from danger raised a primal fear in you. The kind that rips your body apart so that every ounce of concentration, energy and intelligence can be used to escape the nightmares that trailed behind.

A blend of growls mixed in as a pack of rabid wolves jumped out from the side, lunging for you. You yelped, narrowly ducking and weaving away from the gnashing jaws of the animals. They joined the chase behind you, barking when you managed to jump a log that tripped a few of them. The wolves didn’t stop, though. They joined the ominous deep breathing that pursued you, as if you were Red Riding Hood fleeing from danger.

Needing to go faster, despite the close confines around you, you extended your wings from your back and threw away the cloak. Normally, your wings would open to the light of the sun, the streaks of light reflecting beautiful rainbow hues. But now, they added to the glowing red surrounding you, as if they were broken and bloodied. A sense of foreboding overtook you at the thought. 

You began fluttering to move faster, your feet only lightly touching the ground. Being half fairy, you couldn’t reach the heights of a typical fairy, restricted by your human-sized body, but that didn’t matter with the many branches that loomed and imprisoned you close to the forest floor.

Crows cawed, their wings flapping as they followed you with red eyes. You could tell they and the wolves were not real, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t hurt you. The birds dove for your wings, and you had to change paths to try and avoid them.  

Snakes slithered along the ground, and spiders bared their fangs on the branches above your head. It was claustrophobic, as if this evil presence was closing in on you, causing you a fear worse than your most violent nightmares.

With heaving breaths, running on pure adrenaline, you pushed yourself further than ever before.

You started to lose the animals and the mysterious creature, and it gave you a chance to begin your song.

Fairies cast their magic through their voices, affecting all who listened. Humans often did not understand the words but did not need to. The melody alone was enough to bring love and laughter to life. For that was the gift fairies brought. Through the pureness of their hearts, magic could be accessed and shared with the world.

While fairies appeared like blossoming flowers, there were dark vines that snaked from the ground. Those who used their magic for wicked intentions were considered dark witches. Banned from the sanctorum where Mother Nature sits, witches could never gain Mother Nature's trust, hence never earning their wings.

The song you cast into the acrid air was one of hope. A beautiful tune that caused fairy dust to fall from your wings as you fluttered faster, your strength increasing. But what you did not see behind you was the way the ground swallowed the dust, absorbing it to fuel a power that lay below.

“Tinker Bell.” A voice called to you. The name is reminiscent of the childhood teasing you’d endured during your youth. But the voice now held no innocent oblivion to the way it made fun of you. “Pretty fairy, you cannot outrun me.”

With no destination in mind and no path to guide your way, you continued through the forest with threatening sounds behind you. And before long, the trees opened up into a small clearing. There was no reprieve, though, as the trees that formed the circled area were so thick there would be no way you could continue into the forest without having to squeeze past.

Skeletons and discarded bones covered the ground, and each time your foot touched one, they crumbled with a sickening crunch. Humans, animals, and all kinds of beings lay dead in the field, no flesh left to discern them. Their graveyard would soon become yours too, you feared.

“Tinker Bell,” the voice sounded, and it was much closer now. You spun around with fluttering wings, doing a full turn with magic dust falling to the ground, but you couldn’t see anyone. The ground rumbled beneath you, and you gasped at the sight of vines shooting up to try and grab you.

With darting movements, you maneuvered around the vines that tried to capture you. But the more you began to panic, the more magic that came from you, and the world around you absorbed it. The vines started growing in power, getting thicker and faster the more you tried to fly away.

The blood moon was in full force now. The entire sky was a pool of scarlet, ruddy and nauseating. This realm was feeding off your fear, taking it and using it for its own power. 

It was then the being showed itself, walking from the thick foliage into view. The sight of him shocked you so severely that you became distracted, and the vines took their chance to snake around your ankles and up your legs, stopping at your upper thighs. Another two vines grabbed each arm, holding you helplessly in place.

Before you stood an Oni. Or at least someone appearing to be one. A Japanese legend, Oni, were created through the death of a wicked human. Weidling iron clubs as their weapon, they would find enjoyment in crushing and destroying humans. They were bearers of punishment. While this man had no weapon, you feared for what he had planned for you.

But what did you do apart from giving the world your pure heart? What made you deserving of an Oni’s wrath?

Your wings kept fluttering as you took in the man's mask. Covering his face was intricate carvings on a deep charcoal wood. Horns extended on either side, with swirls that covered them down to the blackened eye holes. You could see his piercing blue eyes, stark in comparison to the darkness that surrounded them. The carved swirls continued down the mask's jaw, where it had cut sharp teeth with two fangs on both sides. The man was bulky, not the size of the Oni you had heard of, but he certainly eclipsed the size of an average human. He had to be almost seven feet at least.

He wore only black, with loose pleated pants on his legs and a robe covering his top beneath. One of his hands shone in the red light, and it took you a moment to realise that’s because it was an intricate metal, not flesh.

The sight caused an unrelenting fear in you, as if he had your heart in his hand, beginning to squeeze your very life with his threatening grip.

“Hello, Tinker Bell,” the man spoke, the deep timbre of his tone shaking you to your core as you struggled against your binds. “Are you lost, little fae? These woods are no place for a fairy like you,” he teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice despite the way his face remained hidden.

“Then let me go,” you snapped, trying to use wisps of magic to get the vines to recede, but all it did was make them stronger.

“Ah, hm, no.” The man approached in long strides with flouncing hair as the vines forced you to your knees, your body sinking slightly into the plush earth. “That would be an awful waste of all my effort, Tinker Bell.”

“That’s not my name,” you snapped, beginning to tire of his antics. You just wanted to go home.

“Don’t bore me with your birth name. Tinker Bell suits you much more.” His stature towered above you as he looked down at you, his hair falling around the sides of the mask. The mask was even more intimidating up close. Power radiated off his being, darkness oozing like a sick sludge from him. This was a man to be scared of. 

You began to tremble, causing the vines to rustle as you tried to still yourself. In the eyes of a predator, it is best to try and make yourself seem intimidating. But there’s not much you can do as tears well in your eyes. Your mother had always teased you for having such a sensitive soul.

“Aww, are you going to cry? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You sniffled, spikes of fear lighting your blood like an electric bolt. “What do you want?” 

“Those wings, pretty girl.”

Your eyes widened, and your blood ran cold. You held your breath with a sharp inhale, anxiety clutching at your heart. When you’d first presented with your wings, you’d been warned that they were a rare commodity, much like an elephant's tusks. There were puissant people who wanted to increase their power, and a set of fairy wings granted immense magical properties.

“I don’t want to die,” your voice turned into a high whine as reality set in. This red forest would be your final resting place.

The man laughed heartily, causing you to flinch like he had slapped you.

“Oh, you’re not going to die. Don’t you know? Fairy wings grow back. Why on earth would I kill you when I can have a fae of my own?”

If anything, that was a fate worse than death.

“What’s your name?” You gulped, holding back the sobs that wanted to escape.

“You can call me Bucky.”

You were not above grovelling, and you were already on your knees, so you begged. “Bucky - please. Just let me go home. I’m begging you. I have a family, friends, people who will miss me. Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone about you.”

His eyes darkened as if they were adapting to the shade of the mask surrounding them. There was a deathly silence as he considered you. “No.”

He seemed angry at the mere thought of you being missed. You wondered if it was jealousy. Does he have anyone caring for him? Unlikely based on his method of trying to gain more power. This does not seem like a personable man.

So, you tried a different angle.

“Bucky, you’re a witch, right? That’s how we’re in this realm. You made it?” His eyes narrowed as you spoke, but he didn't stop you. “We’re the same. Magical beings. We should be working together, not against each other. M-Maybe I can help you with some magic? In exchange for my release?”

“The moment I let the vines go, let you leave this place, you will leave me and never look back. Don’t lie to me, Tinker Bell. I can see through your bullshit,” Bucky spat venomously, moving away from you towards a large log that sat in the clearing.

And he wasn’t wrong. It was your intention to run and conjure a teleportation spell the moment you got out of this nightmare realm.

The vines picked you up despite your screams for freedom, carrying you towards the log. “Please, don’t do this! We’re cut of the same cloth. We should be working together! You can stop now. It’s not too late. Please, let me go!”

Bucky watched as you were placed over the log so your front rested against the bark. Your body curved over the trunk, breasts squishing uncomfortably against the hard surface as the vines pulled your arms and legs towards the ground.

A heat rose in your cheeks. You were stuck with your ass elevated, your dress ridden up, so your panties were on display to Bucky. The more you struggled against the binds, the stronger they held.

The blood rushed to your head when you let your neck relax, chin bumping against the log. Reality was setting in, your hope beginning to whittle away. “Please, don’t.”

“Plead all you want, Tinker Bell. No one can hear you here,” Bucky’s voice sounded behind you, his hands groping at the flesh of your thighs. “In fact, I’ll enjoy it more hearing your sounds.”

Bucky let his hands run over your skin, causing goosebumps to rise everywhere he touched. You could sense the power emanating from him, a dark magic present in his entire being.

The vines held firm, so tightly wrapped around your limbs that it felt as if they were seconds away from snapping your bones in their grip. You whimpered, skin cutting against the bark as you writhed.

You couldn’t help the arousal that began to pool in your core with the way Bucky groped you. His devilish hands warmed you like he lit a fire in your entire being. He was undoubtedly a powerful creature.

“You’ll want to be numbed for when I cut your wings off…” Bucky trailed off, and when you looked back you gasped.

He’d taken his cock out. Hard, veiny, and inviting – the thick flesh had an angry red tip, shining precum at the tip. You wondered if he tasted as powerful as his magic.

Bucky took a string of fabric to tie back his hair so it was in a tight bun. You watched, mesmerised by how he moved so fluidly.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time, his dark stare not leaving you as his cock bobbed between his legs when you let out a sniffle.

The mask stayed on after Bucky had finished with his hair, and you couldn’t help but be curious about your captor. Would he look like the demon he projected?

Bucky lifted the bottom of the disguise to spit into his hand, running his palm over the ridges of his cock with a grunt as his metal hand yanked your panties down.

Reality came crashing down, and you cried out. “Wait! Don’t! Please, don’t.”

“You don’t want to be in pain, do you? I could cut your wings with no analgesic, but I’m doing you a favour by giving you my cum,” Bucky’s hands gripped either side of the trunk, allowing his cock to sit nestled in your exposed ass cheeks. “I’m being nice. I’m not even going to fuck you.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping you. “This isn’t being nice.”

“Oh? Not even when I do this?” Bucky snapped his fingers with an incantation, and a small vial of pink liquid appeared in his hand. He took the ampoule, moving his cock out of the way so he could pour it over your ass, letting the pink sparkling fluid seep down into your folds.

Your entire body went taut, sudden bolts of pleasure shooting through your body like firecrackers. Your toes curled, and you wailed out a moan, wings fluttering crazily as you tried to process what was happening.

The arousal coursing through you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, Bucky’s magic infecting you and making your brain spiral like you’d had multiple orgasms at once.

Rainbows of colour swirled in your vision as Bucky began sliding his cock against your ass. You could barely register the rocking movement as euphoria filled your brain, the lust making your hair stand on end.

“See? It’s not so bad, Tinker Bell,” Bucky groaned, humping against you and pushing you harder against the log. “I bet no one has touched you like this before.”

Bucky kicked your legs out so you were spread wider, allowing him to slide his cock along your pussy, collecting your arousal. He rubbed the tip of his cock on your clit, and you moaned obscenely. “St— op”

“Ah, you don’t really want me to, do you? Look how wet you are for me. I bet I could make you cum just with my cock.” Bucky wasn’t wrong. He rolled your clit with the head of his dick, and whatever magic he’d used on you had it feeling like tongues were lapping at you.

“That’s it, come on, cum for me. Soak me. Lose that innocence for me, my little slut,” Bucky leant forward, hands pressing down on your wings, teeth nipping at your ear.

That was all it took for the dams to burst. The world was vibrant as you came, red filling your vision, your body shaking with mewls as your juices gushed against Bucky’s cock.

Your wetness allowed Bucky to easily slide against your flesh, heat radiating from his pulsing cock as he grunted with each thrust. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”

Time seemed to warble, your brain unable to keep up as Bucky grabbed your ass, pressing your cheeks together so he could fuck them harder. “Shit, fuck, oh— oh, I’m close.”

Bucky suddenly pulled back, and you hoped the ordeal was over. How wrong you were.

“They’re soft as silk, Tinks,” Bucky commented, running his fingers over the reflective surface of your wings. You tried to flap them to get his hand to move away, but he was fast, grabbing onto the delicate membrane of your wing.

“Don’t touch them. That hurts,” you whimpered in your haze, writhing against the vines.

“Oh, I’m going to do far more than just touch them.”

You felt as Bucky played with the pliability of your wings, the body part easily manipulated as it was soft and light, the only dense part of your wings being the cartilage that secured them to your back.

Pure horror filled you as he placed his palm onto your wing, forcing it against the log, using his other hand to curve the opalescent surface of your appendage around his cock.

“Fuck. So fucking soft. I knew it would feel amazing,” Bucky moaned, using your wing like a sheath for his cock.

You could feel the heat from his dick against you, your wings sensitive and full of nerves like the rest of you.

“Stop…” You cried, tears still falling, and you were surprised you had any left to cry.

To be defiled like this was something unimaginable. The happiness that you so often felt in your soul was becoming a chimera – no more than a hopeful illusion.

With Bucky’s grunts sounding behind you, you craned your neck to look at the sky, the red reflection making it look as if you were shedding tears of blood.

The blood moon shone proudly, the sky clear of clouds, leaving just redness to cover everything. What did you do to deserve this? Was it simply your fate to be a sacrifice to the wretched? Was there such a thing as fate at all? For so long, you’d considered your life set up upon a lineage Mother Nature set out for you. But no loving figure would force this reality upon one of her creatures, right? Your whole belief system felt shaken, like your entire world compass was stomped on and shattered.

What had you done wrong?

In reality, you’d done nothing to merit such treatment.

Yet the world bestowed the pain on you regardless.

“Enough, stop. It hurts,” you whimpered, the bend on your wing uncomfortable as Bucky thrust into it.

“Oh, it feels too good to stop, pretty girl. It’s like fucking straight magic.” Bucky’s hands braced against the log, using wisps of dark power to keep your wing in a circle.

The power from him escalated, dark clouds pouring from him and billowing across the ground, covering the graveyard of souls surrounding you. His breathy moans got louder, his grip on the log causing cracks to form in the wood.

“F-Fuck, feels too good. I’m going to cum. Yeah, you want my cum, don’t you? Dirty slut.” His hips lost their rhythm, beginning to stutter as he came. Bucky was quick to pull back, his cum coating your back where your wings connected with your flesh.

It was an odd feeling that washed over you. It was something akin to calmness, although it was forced upon you. The last movement you could manage was to look back, brows knitting together when you saw that Bucky’s seed was coloured black, before your body went involuntarily lax.

You lay over the log, your breathing levelling out as you became numb to the world. His spell didn’t just anaesthetise your body, but your emotions too.

You couldn’t even wish to be asleep as you started at the foggy ground.

The vines eased up, not needing to hold you so tight when there was no struggle, their tension leaving marks on your limbs.

“You’re so perfect.” Bucky complimented, but there was no smile on your face.

There was nothing.

You were nothing.

This was the end of everything, and the start of the aphotic zone.

The remnants of your tears fell onto the bones below, cleaning away some of the dirt covering them. But the damage to them remained. Just as the damage to you began.

You couldn’t see what Bucky was doing, nor could you feel it, but you could hear it. There was a sick squelching noise, followed by a sawing sound, as Bucky began to hack at the cartilage connecting your wings.

It was like nails on a chalkboard, nausea roiling in your stomach as you had no choice but to lay there like a rat in a laboratory, ready to be dissected in some horrid experiment.

He could have magically removed them. He’d more than exemplified he had the power to. But he’d chosen the barbaric route for his own crooked pleasure.

Bucky was silent, concentrating on his work as your body wobbled with each run of the jagged blade against you. Blood coated your skin, the ichor running down your sides and covering the wood below you. It gushed out, and if you didn’t feel light-headed before, you certainly did now.

The only words you heard enter the world were a whispered fire incantation. It was then you smelt your flesh burning, the blade heated to cauterise your wound as it sliced.

If you had any control, you’d be wailing, screaming, doing anything to try and get out. Bucky stole your anguish from you, leaving you like a doll atop the log as your identity was violently stripped from your back.

Mother Nature had gifted you your wings. They were your responsibility. And you failed to protect them.

Yet, in your neutered state, you were apathetic about it.

The impromptu surgery went on for what felt like hours, the slow removal of your body parts done both with intricacy and unrelenting brutality.

Your back felt significantly lighter as your wings fell to the ground, crunching the skeletons below into dust.

It was done.

You would never be the same.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I left some scarring. I want my fairy to be special and bear markings made by her owner,” Bucky said proudly, as if you could respond.

You just stared at the skull below you. God, how you wished to be dead on the ground.

Bucky came around the log and stood in front of you, cupping your face with his palms so you were forced to look at his masked face. “Ready to go home?”

Drool dropped out of your mouth and down your chin, unable to control your functions. Bucky swiped away the moisture. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Bucky snapped his fingers, and you were instantly transported to his home.

It seemed like a small cabin in the middle of a forest, based on what you could see from the dirty window. Every surface was covered with tomes, vials, herbs, and materials needed for spells.

The place had an earthy smell with a mix of floral sweetness.

You sat in the corner of the room, and it took you a moment to realise you sat in a large birdcage. With your body still paralysed, you could only elicit a small whimper at the realisation that you were trapped. A purple field covered the cage, assumedly stopping you from using magic.

Bucky startled you, suddenly materialising with your wings in his arms. Seeing them made your heart drop to the earth's centre. They’d lost their colour, aura, and everything that made them special. Now, they were no more than an ingredient.

You watched as Bucky placed them onto his desk, dusting himself off before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry about the mess. I should have cleaned up before you came over. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”

There was a sense of anticipation as he removed his Oni mask, showing you for the first time his face. You were surprised at how handsome and regular he looked. Sometimes, the evillest were the people we’d never suspect if we passed them on the street. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He waved the mask before placing it next to your wings. “Since I act like a demon, I might as well look like one, right?”

With a grin, he moved to the bubbling cauldron that was hanging atop a fireplace, scooping up some of the mystery green liquid into a small wooden bowl.

There was intention in every movement as he collected the foul-smelling soup. As he came to your cage, every part of you wanted to scream and run. Yet you didn’t move an inch, sitting upon the cot with your back to the cage wall.

“Here. This will help you heal faster,” Bucky said, as if you had a choice in what you consumed. You felt ill as he got closer with the sloshing broth, your stomach flipping as he raised it to your lips. He had to physically pry your mouth open to pour the soup in, the heat sliding down your slack throat with ease. “That’s my girl, Tinks. Such a good fairy.”

His praises fell on deaf ears as your senses were overtaken by the putrid taste and smell of whatever concoction he had fed you. Almost instantly, you got movement and feeling back.

For the first time in your life, anger overtook you. You’d never felt rage before, but it was all that occupied you now.

With your wings gone, a whole part of you had been taken away. Without your gift of purity, you didn’t have the same emotional control. You felt human.

You jumped up, whacking the bowl from his grip and wrapping your hands around Bucky’s neck, ready to squeeze the life out of him. “I’m going to kill you,” you snarled, entirely unlike your usual self.

Bucky had stolen your innocence and replaced it with darkness.

“Is that so?” Bucky tilted his head, unphased as you squeezed. “Interesting.”

Your anger turned to desperation as Bucky’s form turned to sand in your grip, the course grit slipping through your fingers.

“No!” You screeched, running for the open cage door.

But Bucky was faster, reappearing on the other side of the cage and quickly slamming the wire door in your face.

“No! Let me out! You fucking wench! Hag! Get back here, you old bag and fucking let me go!” You gripped the bars, shaking them desperately as you tried to conjure as much magic as possible. But you had nothing, Bucky’s forcefield holding strong. “I can see why Mother Nature rejected you, warlock. You’re nothing more than an imp, picking on others so you can feel better about your own weakness. You fucking prick.”

There was no chastity left. Your virtue had been lost when your wings were stripped from your being.

“Now, now, that’s not nice. You hurt my feelings.” Bucky frowned, moving back from your enclosure. “Those wings of yours will grow back, and so will your temperament. I’m a very patient man, and I have no issue making your whole existence suffering. But if you know what’s good for you, you will apologise when I return. Wings or not, I expect you to keep the nature of a fairy, Tinks.”

With a flash, Bucky disappeared, leaving you alone in the dank room.

You collapsed to your knees, resolving into a fit of sobs. Without your object of anger there, you were reduced to nothing but sorrow.

Letting out a shuddered breath, you looked over your shoulder. Out from the scarring, popped the smallest amount of new cartilage.

The cycle would begin again.

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[infiniteimaginings]

True Loves Kiss (Rumplestiltskin x Male!Reader)

Summary: Rumplestiltskin is an old friend of yours, you've known him for quite a while. He introduced you to his new maid for saving a kingdom from the great ogre war, what will happen when this 'maid' tells you her research for breaking curses? Pronouns: You/Yours, He/Him Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 4.6k A/N: This is specifically because someone asked for it in the comments (@aggsh-shs) and I will always write for once upon a time. This is also way longer than I expected it to be, can you guys tell I'm obsessed with this show?

The enchanted forest, a beautiful and daring realm filled with magic and wonder. A world where fairytales exist, where happy endings are prominent. But, where there is light, there is darkness. Where there is magic, there are loopholes. Where there is good, there is evil.

Within the enchanted forest, there was an extremely powerful man…well, he wasn’t a man per say. Man is humanity, and this creature was far from human. He had green, scaly skin, a dark grin, no sense of morals it seemed. He was a magical being, blessed or cursed with immortality, he was a witch, a monster. This being used his time in the enchanted forest to gain all the knowledge he possibly could by intimidation, he ripped people's hearts out, he created curses, he destroyed lives to be as powerful as possible.

This being, this monster, this crocodile, was named Rumplestiltskin. He was also known as the dark one, a magical entity that is corrupted with darkness, enveloped in the heinous shadows that surround the name, the whispers of the past dark ones swirling in their heads.

He resided in a fairly large dark castle with what seemed to be thousands of floors, rooms, everything. It was such a large castle, yet he was the only one who resided in such a space. No one was concerned if he was lonely though, why would people worry if the monster who comes to their towns and invokes fear into them is lonely?

No one was concerned until Rumplestiltskin had been spinning straw into gold, a usual pastime for him, it helped him think. His thinking time had been ruined by someone walking through a door to the side of his main room, his prize.

By prize it’s more of a condition. He had protected a kingdom from the great ogre war, meaning that he created a magical barrier around the kingdom to keep the ogres at bay. Therefore giving no reason for the kingdom to send their men to kill themselves for. Within this condition, he requested their princess in exchange for his help, the king disagreeing but the princess went ahead and sacrificed herself.

Her name was Belle, she was a bright and well read woman. She also was a prisoner of Rumplestiltskin who couldn’t leave. She was upset of course, but she would do anything to protect her kingdom. Her prisoner rank had been promoted to being a maid, she cleaned, dusted, poured tea, all of the sorts. That, in Rumplestiltskin's opinion, did not involve asking all the questions she decided she wanted to ask.

“Do you ever get lonely?” The brown haired woman asked, dusting along the shelves. She looked at the scaled man with soft eyes, no longer worried about whether he would hurt her or not, if he wanted to he would’ve already.

Rumplestiltskin continued to spin the straw, pulling threads of gold easily without thought. He didn’t even look away from the spinner, “No.” He spoke simply, foot stepping on the press to make the wheel spin. Belle pursed her lips at the vague response and continued to clean, “You must get lonely at least a bit, you’re always by yourself.” She spoke, her English accent ringing through his ears. He sighed, gaze flickering to her before going back to his work, “I’m not by myself…” He spoke to her, his voice in a concentrated mutter. “All the time, at least.” He added on the statement, his features softening slightly before concentrating once more. Belle put her hands on her hips, “I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks, but I have not seen anyone else come through here other than that thief.” She told him, walking over to him with the confidence no one truly has to the dark one.

Rumplestiltskin stopped spinning his straw and looked at Belle with a bored expression, “I don’t have tea parties with the people I associate myself with.” He spoke, standing abruptly to walk to the door. Belle stayed near the spinner, frowning slightly, he was so adamant that he wasn’t lonely but, why was he never with anyone?

Just as Rumplestiltskin walked to the main door to exit, someone from the other side had already opened it. It was a man, he was looking down into a satchel overflowed with scrolls, quills, and possibly other things, but from where Belle was she couldn’t see it clearly. A few larger rolls of paper escaped the satchel as the man walked through the door. What surprised Belle though was that Rumplestiltskin wasn’t surprised by the visitor, he had rolled his eyes and picked up the papers, shaking them in front of the man's face.

That man was you. You picked your head up from looking down and smiled graciously, reaching to grab the papers but Rumplestiltskin pulled them away with his devilish smirk. “Your satchel is overflowing, did you steal them? Buy them? I would ask if you intimidated the owners but…” He looked you up and down, tilting his head, unimpressed, “You’re not an intimidating person.” He spoke simply. The scaled man tapped your head with the paper and you gently but swiftly took the papers with a soft glare.

Belle was curious to the interaction, she placed her duster down and walked forward, hands grazing the chairs as she walked closer. The two of you continued to interact until Belle leaned her body into your view, waving, “Hello.” She spoke with a smile but curious eyes.

Your eyes widened in surprise, “Hello…there?” You spoke with a questioning gaze to Rumplestiltskin who shot a dirty look to Belle for interrupting. The dark one nodded reluctantly, gesturing to Belle without looking at her, “Meet my maid, whatever her name is.” He waved his hands around as a movement of not remembering.

“My name is Belle.” She spoke right after him so you would know. You nodded in understanding, humming at the word ‘maid’. You shook her hand and introduced yourself, saying your name and telling her that you’ve known Rumplestiltskin for years.

She tilted her head with intrigue, “How come I’ve never seen you?” She asked, wondering how after all this time a man could show up and just…be well acquainted with someone people find terrifying. Rumplestiltskin sucked his teeth, “He’s been on a long journey for a few months.” He answered plainly, picking at his nails. He suddenly pointed to Belle, “How about you do what actual maids do and make tea instead of asking questions?” He asked, more of an order.

Belle gently smiled, used to the treatment and grabbed the porcelain tea set, “I thought you didn’t have tea parties with people you associate with.” She spoke jokingly, repeating his words from earlier. The man frowned and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, “And I thought when I received you, you would be more quiet.” He muttered under his breath, not even looking at Belle. You had gently smacked Rumplestilskin in his shoulder and told him to ‘play nice’ to which he scowled about.

This routine had gone on for a few more weeks. You would appear at the castle, or wake up there after falling asleep on the main room table. You would hold banter and conversation with Rumplestiltskin, the man would go do some errands, Belle would make you tea, the dark one would return and take you into multiple different rooms.

Something Belle noticed was that her captor was very gentle with you. When you would prick your finger on the spinning wheel, a small look of concern would flash across the scaled man's face before he waved his hand and suddenly your wound was gone. He would let you take any book you’d like, as well as touch any treasure of his with no complaints from the owner. As if you could do anything, and he would never darken.

You had leaned across him as he was at his wheel, he was blocking the way to a compartment you needed to get to. You tripped a bit when you pointed your toes to get higher ground and nearly toppled on top of him. You would've if Rumplestiltskin didn’t immediately stop spinning the straw and take hold of your waist. You didn’t even look at him as you just continued trying to grab the crystal like item from the shelf, the man holding you for your balance. You didn’t notice how his eyes would look over your face, his fingers would flex around your waist slightly, how gentle his expression was to you.

Once you had grabbed the crystal item, you moved down, Rumplestiltskin guiding you back down. You thanked him and walked to the table, Belle watching the entire thing as she wiped down a few possessions of her captors.

You had sat at the table, placing a few scrolls on the table and the crystal item next to them. Belle had poured you some tea and placed a cup of it in front of you. The other man didn’t sit at all near the two of you. His eyes followed you from the spinner and he cleared his throat, standing and brushing himself off.

“I’ll be back.” Was all he said before he disappeared with the wave of his hands.

Belle had stood up at this point to continue cleaning in a different area so you could focus but you stopped her, shaking your head. “Please, drink tea with me?” You asked her kindly and she accepted the offer, sitting next to you and pouring herself tea as well. You looked at her a bit before putting your cup down, noticing it was slightly chipped. “You can ask whatever questions you wish.” You said nonchalantly, pulling a few scrolls out, some were maps, some declarations, amongst other things.

You couldn’t pretend like you didn’t see how her eyes lit up at the offer, chuckling to yourself lightly. Belle had taken the chance to ask the millions of questions about you, about Rumplestiltskin, about the castle, about your history, about his history, she asked you everything.

Belle leaned forward, hands around the cup as a safety, smiling gently, “How do you know Rumplestiltskin?” She asked you immediately, curious as to how someone seemingly so kind could be with someone who acted so cruel. You took a sip of your tea, putting it back down on the table, “I know him because we lived in the same village.” You answered her simply.

“He lived in a village?” She spoke, clearly shocked at the new piece of information. “No one was scared of him?” Belle asked you, almost scooching her chair a little closer to you.

“When I met him, he was a man.” You informed her, her lips parting slightly. “It was in an ogre war-” You continued until Belle visibly flinched at the words. Your eyes shifted to her quickly from your cup, “Are you okay?” You asked her, cup now down,hand reaching to hers for comfort. The princess smiled gently at you and nodded with a hesitant breath. “Yes, it’s just…my kingdom..” She began and you nodded, encouraging her to continue.

She didn’t though. She exhaled, the breath sounded shaky and she appreciated your hand offered to her, taking it. “It’s alright, you should continue.” She expressed, her facial expression didn’t convince you completely but you continued for her sake specifically. You looked her in her eyes, nothing but warmth within them, “It was long ago.” You told her, almost as if you were telling a story to a child. “One of the first ogre wars.” Your voice was a little low for suspense, Belle enjoyed it, it was like when her father used to read stories to her. She noticed your words and blinked a bit at you, now leaning forward to you due to her interest, “That was… that was hundreds of years ago.” She responded to your comment and you simply nodded.

“You’ve lived that long?” She asked, “Are you a mortal?” She questioned, brows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t look like Rumplestiltskin with the scales and darkness, but you didn’t look like a fairy, you had no wings. You certainly didn’t look like a seer, those with eyes on their palms, their faces sewed up, thought you could have the powers, she was unsure.

You licked your lips with a huff of a laugh, “A fairy a long time ago told me that I would be needed for something, but I would need to live to that point,” You spoke, nodding, your nose scrunched, “so she granted me immortality.” You finished your comment and Belle nodded slowly. “Are you still…?” Belle began, unsure of how to word her sentence, but you understood. “I am still a man, I just can’t die.” You expressed to her, moving a few papers, your hand still in the comfort of hers.

Belle had many questions about that, but she decided to stick to the questions about the dark one. “Okay…so, he used to be a man?” “Yes, before he became the dark one, he was a man.”

“How did he become the dark one?”

You paused, thinking for a moment, squeezing your hand gently, “It’s not my story to tell of how.” You spoke simply, and before she could speak once more you continued. “The dark one is magical,” You stated the obvious to which the girl in front of you nodded, “and is drowned in darkness until it takes over completely.” You explained to her, pausing once more. You tilted your head, trying to find a way to explain this to her without expressing more information than needed. “But, since it takes over a human host, he’s not complete darkness,” You said, “no matter how much people say otherwise.” You muttered the last part, a flash of annoyance in your expression.

Belle was silent for a moment, thinking. She pulled her hand back, you didn’t mind and simply clasped yours hands in front of you on the table. “So he’s cursed?” Belled asked you after a while of silence. You tilted your head in each direction with an expression that showed you weren’t exactly sure of a correct answer to that, “I guess you could think of it like that.”

She went silent once more, hands in her lap, “True love's kiss can break any curse” She stated to you, eyes flickering into yours before looking back to the cups.

“You truly believe that?”

“Of course!” Belle spoke quickly, “But, I suppose you are not his true love.” She mumbled, playing with her fingers. The comment caused your head to snap to her, slight shock, but mainly confusion in your face. You shook your head lightly with a slightly uncomfortable smile, “How ever would you know that?” You asked her, hands clutching each other tighter. Belle noticed your slight tone, her eyes widening at she stumbled over her words for her explanation, “He is not his original self, so the must mea-“

“Me and Rumplestiltskin have never kissed.”

Your words caused her mouth to open, she was staring at you agape. “You two..have never kissed?” She asked, truly confused which puzzled you even further. She puffed air into her cheeks, “I assumed the two of you were romantically involved since he’s far more gentle with you than anyone else.” She continued to explain, wondering if she saw it differently.

Now it was your turn to stare, agape. You couldn’t ask her why and how she came to that conclusion until Rumplestiltski himself had returned. His vest was covered in blood so he took it off, leaving him in only his long sleeved under shirt. He tossed it to Belle who was utterly disgusted by the blood but used to the action, “Clean this for me, someone didn’t want to be compliant.” He spoke, teeth gritted as he turned on his heel to a different doorway.

He gestured to you to follow, so you stood quickly, sending an apologetic gaze to Belle. The princess, the prisoner of the dark one, stood and walked to a different doorway to where she washed and hung Rumplestiltskin's clothes to dry.

You had followed Rumple, something you call him, into a tower where he worked with potion magic. He had stood in front of a desk, mixing a few bottles of magic together to create something new, you always enjoyed watching him in his element. You looked along the the rows of ingredient bottles or fleshed out potions, looking through the labels and humming as you examined them a bit. Silence was between you two which wasn’t unusual, but you decided to break it. “You want to know something so funny?” You asked him, your backs to each other as you were on the other side of the room. Rumple gave you a hum of acknowledgement, not turning to you, “I highly doubt it will be funny, but continue.” He told you, waving his hand slightly before going back to the potions. “Belle told me that true loves kiss breaks all curses.”

Your statement caused the man behind you to stand up straight, looking directly to the wall. He cocked his head to the side, though you didn’t see it, “Maybe I shouldn’t let her read those books.” He said aloud, looking back down to his potion. You chuckled, rolling your eyes a bit, “I mean, it is true, isn’t it? From everything I've seen at least.” You spoke, messing with a bottle of unicorn hair. Rumple focused on his work but muttered a few words, “She's not wrong, but why would she discuss such a thing with you?” He asked, confused on what brought up the subject matter.

You didn’t tell him that you let her ask questions but you did express why she would bring up the product of the question, “Well, she believes you’re cursed.” You spoke almost too plainly, your mouth getting a little dry as you remembered the cut off conversation from earlier.

Your words had been so unexpected that he had put his potion bottles down a bit harshly, the bottles clinking each other. You turned to him with surprise and he turned, meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry?” He asked, mouth now in a thin line, arms crossed. You didn’t expect such a reaction but you shrugged anyways, “She thinks being the dark one is a curse and it can be lifted with true loves kiss.” You explained and he chuckled slightly in disbelief.

He began to shake his head with closed his eyes, “Don’t tell me she believes not only the ridiculous idea that true loves kiss will lift my name off that damn dagger,” He began, holding his hand out for you due to the way this rattled him ,”but that she thinks she could kiss me and all is well.” He finished, tilting his head at you when he looked up, his shock now wiped into amusement. You crinkled your face into a scrunch, “Not exactly.” You chuckled out, licking your lips subconsciously, looking down.

Rumple waited for you to continue and you kicked the ground, crossing your arms yourself, “She thinks I could be your true love.” You laugh, looking up at him after speaking such a ridiculous idea. You were met with pure silence, silence that was tense and the eye contact with the man in front of you never ceased. “What?” He asked you, his voice had never been so soft, so hesitant.

It caught you off guard so you tilted your head, smiling a bit, “She assumed I wasn’t your true love since you weren’t human, and I had to tell her we’ve never kissed.” You reiterated the moments from a little earlier, and were met with even more silence. “Why are you so quiet?” You asked, pushing yourself off the bookshelf to reach the middle of the room, now half the distance from where you were away from Rumple.

He looked to the ground, a concentrated look on his face before he looked back up, “She believes you could be my true love?” He asked you suddenly and you nodded, “She believed we had a romantic connection.” You told him honestly. You were unsure why the topic was one he was stuck on, he never really cared for such a thing when the topic had been brought up before. He sighed, “And she thinks true loves kiss is going to break whatever this is?” He asked, gesturing his hands down his body and you simply nodded. Your confirmation had brought Rumplestiltskin to shake his head, “Ridiculous.” he spoke, turning back to his project.

Another moment of silence filled between the two of you, once again, you broke it. “Have you ever tried?” You asked, gulping harshly, still standing in the middle of the room, tapping your foot. Rumple was looking at the mixture he created, waving his hand for the potion to glow, “Tried what?” He asked in response, not looking at you. You took a deep breath, now simply hugging yourself. “Looking for a way to not be the dark one without…dying for it?”

Pure silence filled the room, again. You didn’t understand why so much silence was coming between you two.

“Sometimes I think about it.” He answered honestly, voice in a mumble.

“Has it ever gone beyond thinking?” More silence was in response so you tried to stutter out a different response, trying to speak of how he doesn’t have to say, or to move onto a topic.

“No, it hasn’t.”

You walked a little closer, now standing next to him but he wouldn’t look at you, like he was avoiding it. “Do you think it ever will? If you do actually find a way?” You asked him, leaning on the table a bit. He didn’t answer the question, he just put his hands on the table, looking down at the bottles, “…Can I ask you something?” He asked you, taking a few deep breaths.

“Sure.”

“What if true loves kiss could break it somehow?”

You weren’t sure if he meant with you or in general, but you answered honestly regardless, tapping your fingers on the wooden table. “Well, then…” You began, adjusting yourself, “I say you could find Baelfire, and after you do you could kiss your true love and then be happy.” You spoke, shrugging a bit, unsure of if he was actually concerned about it.

“What if you’re my soulmate?” He asked you, head turning to look at you, you turned yours to look at him. “Do you truly believe I could be?” You asked in a slight whisper.

He looked at you, the man in front of him, he saw a flicker of something in your eyes. He couldn’t pin point what it was, you couldn’t even understand what it was. He sighed, rubbing the bottom of his face with his hand, “Even if it somehow was true,” He spoke, now fully turned to you, “being the dark one is a different magic. it’s not a curse.” He told you, seemingly trying to convince himself more than you.

You frowned deeply at him, if you stepped closer, the two of you would be nose to nose. “I do hate when you refer to yourself as the dark one.” You mumbled to him, keeping eye contact with him and he shook his head, a matching frown on his face. The mood was slightly solemn through this conversation, like there was hope for something that would never happen. “Why?” He asked you, “It’s true.”

You inhaled deeply, your chest aching a bit, “You’re just Rumple.” You told him simply, eyes soft. You noticed his harder expression softened as well, his frown more sad than frustrated. “The same man who brought me those skins when I was sick.” You reminded him, eyes glistening slightly. Rumple hadn’t said anything, just looking into your eyes before he realized you finished your sentence. He cleared his throat, standing now, “Children had stronger immune systems than you.” He spoke, biting the inside of his cheek, turning to a journal to write down the products of his potion.

“And yet you still took care of me.” You smiled at his actions, still leaning on the table.

He waved you off, not turning to look at you, “I do not appreciate your sentiment at the moment, go read a book or look over your maps or something.”

You laughed a little louder than you expected and dramatically bowed, “Of course your majesty.” You told him, shaking your head and walking to the door the two of you came in from.

Before you could go he called your name, causing you to turn to him. His back was still to you but your footsteps stopped so he spoke. “Why did Belle believe we were romantically involved?” He asked you, the question was strange to you but you answered anyway.

“She said something about how you look at me far more gently than anyone else.” You expressed to him honestly, not thinking much of it.

“Do you believe her?”

“I am not sure. We have been friends for a long time, I’m sure it’s a little more gentle.”

He was quiet for a moment, before turning to you, expression unreadable. “If we were true loves, and if I was back to being a man-”

“Rumple, I don’t mind that you're..” You began walking forward to him but he interrupted you. “A monster?” He asked and your eyes lidded and your pursed your lips, “The dark one.” You finished your phrase, the words making him go silent. You were now face to face with him, “I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re not all darkness.” You explained, his eyes looking into yours, “There’s something inside you, there’s light, there’s the Rumple I knew and still know.” You expressed to him, fingers tingling to grab hold of his but you decided against it.

His breath hitched when he noticed your fingers twitch a bit to him, “That light is because of-”

“Baelfire.” You had known the answer, you knew of his son. You knew his son and how much joy he brought to his father.

Rumple nodded but continued anyways, “And you.” You were a little shocked, your face showing that. He grabbed your hands, his rougher than yours, “You’re my hope for finding him.”

A smile had broken out on your face a bit, “I’ve never seen you get sentimental.” You teased a bit, but he didn’t smile. He held your hands, looking down at them. “I think I can only be with you.” His words were heavy and they caused your heart to beat quickly and loudly. “I don’t want to be soft, but you melt me.” He explained, eyes looking back into yours, he seemed so gentle in this moment with you, like the old Rumple. “And there’s so many things I want to say and do But I don't want to risk…”

“True loves kiss?”

He hesitated before closing his eyes, sighing, and nodding. “Yes…there’s just too much on the line.”

You understood, if you were his true love and you kissed him, it’s possible he wouldn’t be the dark one anymore. He wouldn’t have the power and strength to get Bae back, and you didn’t want to be the reason he never saw his son again. You stepped a little closer, kissing his cheek gently, the action was quick, faster than he could process. When he finally did, he touched his cheek and looked at you with big eyes.

You were smiling softly, hands still in his, “How about that for now?” You asked him and for the first time that day, he replicated your smile. “Perfect.” He told you, gazing into your eyes with a fire he’s never had before. Well, the fire you’ve never noticed before now.

[ryuzakemo128]

Grim Reaper - Supernatural AU

Pairing: Poly! Task Force 141 x you/ female reader

Content Warning: Fantasy Violence, Nogitsune, betrayal. If there is something triggering in this, I have not tagged. I suggest you read at your own discretion.

Words: 1024

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary: You are known for taking on a human form. Taking joy in tormenting, tricking, and possessing humans.

You are a Nogitsune. The translation for this is wild fox.

Alternate names for you are Yako, Yakan.

Yakan is more archaic. Its origin lie elsewhere. Predominately in a different animal.

Many local variations of your name exist. Only known to those in those areas.

Your habitat is located amongst the fields, forests, and wild areas.

Your diet? Omnivorous. You particularly like wax, oil, lacquer, women’s life force and blood. You are quite happy with your appetite. Only going out of your way to eat when it suits you and your own hunger.

Often referred to as Yako. A type of kitsune. A breed of magical kitsune to be more specific. You wander the East Asian territories amongst your kin.

You do not have a divine soul. Not only that, but you are not a messenger of the gods. You do not serve the Inari.

You are known for taking on a human form. Taking joy in tormenting, tricking, and possessing humans.

A keen sense of danger. Strong disliking for bright light. Hiding from the sun during the day. Scared of swords and knives. You do not do well with bladed objects. An intense fear of dogs. As soon as you smell one. You are already gone. Hiding.

Able to recognise human activity even though you hide from humans. Whenever you get the chance to. You are nowhere to be found. Which you generally enjoy. Sneaking around to steal some of your favourite foods like; wax, candles, lamp oil, lacquer, alcohol, and fried tofu. A feast for you. A delicious feast no other could compare to.

Some kitsune are viewed as holy creatures, magical foxes serving as messengers to the gods. You are not one of them. You are a low-ranking member. Furthermore, you do not act as a messenger. You do not serve the Inari. Despite all of this. You seem relatively comfortable with your low ranking. You don’t aspire to increase your standing.

In order to change your shape, your form, you requite a bone from a horse or a cow. It requires all of your concentration, your magical focus of some form or kind.

This went on for a while. Long enough for a task force 141 to find you all the way out in the English countryside. Resting on dry hay inside an abandoned stable. Clutching onto a worn-out pink teddy bear. A giant one. Big enough to cover your entire body. Engulfing it in a warm beacon of safety.

You knew this day would come eventually. People hated monsters. Monsters would always be stomped out by those who are deemed better on a biased moral compass. You wished you are back at home with your older siblings. Yet you were all the way out here. No way back. Lost and alone.

What you deserve and what you get are two separate things.

You deserved to be home. Instead, you were tricked into coming all the way out here by a person you called 'friend'. A friend who was a liar. A snake. A false promise. A deception. A deceiver. Unworthy of being your friend.

You’ve been running from them for months. You were too tired to put up much of a fight. If any at all. You didn’t hear the stable doors creak open or the footsteps of crunching gravel. “Are you here to kill me?” You asked. “To slay the mighty beast in order to receive a medal and pat on your back? Spare me the hypocrisy that is your kind. Werewolves like you don’t know anything beyond your own kind. Well done. You got your prize. You won the fight. You get something while the beast is slain. How noble of you.”

Noble? Pathetic. Bowing down to the needs of the whims and wants of others. Look at you. Tamed and bound by an entity who would discard you the moment they found something better. I know these things better than you might think.

No wonder you smell. The dog smell. Putrid. Horrid. Disgusting. The dog crate smelled of hundreds of dogs. The putrid smelling seeping into your clothes. The smell stung your eyes to a new level you hadn’t experienced before. Stench overwhelming as you were muzzled to keep you from biting them.

Scared. They’re scared like little pups. Whinging. Whining. Wanting more than what they deserve to get. I don’t care about what they want. I don’t care. I don’t fucking care about anything they could possibly want from me. Their whims and desires can go fucking drown in a river for all I care.

Along the road to the military base full of people marching around in military fatigues. You must have passed out on the way there. Snoring like a bear. A giant bear. A big bear. A big, big bear. They tried prying it from you.

You gave them growls. Snapping at their fingers. Gaz got bit a few times. Not hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to ward him away from you.

Your eyes held a luminous glow to them. Even if they were only open for a few seconds before falling back asleep. Stretching a bit before breathing a steadily.

Lowering the air conditioning between 12 degrees to 17 degrees depending on your mood at the time. Keeping the room you were kept inside. Cold enough for you to keep you comfortable. Not them.

Laswell looking in the crate with flashlight as the dog crate presented to her like an offering to a god who knew little of your kind. The urge to strike. To bite her burned inside your soul.

Those fucking naïve bitches. Dangling a snack in front me? Tempting me to eat her, are we? Idiots. Morons. Just a bite. A nibble is all it takes to get to the sweet red nectar beneath her flesh. To gorge myself on her blood like it was ordained by my nature.

Grim.

Grim.

Grim Reaper.

A new name.

For a new place.

Mine.

All of it.

MINE.

Once they ask for my name.

It is all they shall get from me.

A small kindness for their pathetic interference.