#if you're going up to a strange man alone in the woods to say hi then you have a death wish

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

I feel like I'm missing the crux of the man vs. bear debate because it's so silly. of course I would pick the man, because neither my Sig nor jiu jitsu is going to take down a bear

[inkskinned]

it's because the bear wouldn't kill me just for being a woman. the bear doesn't kill me for fun. the bear can be shouted at, and will leave me alone. the bear won't make a tiktok complaining about how i crossed to the other side of the path when i saw him coming. if a bear kills me, it's just being a bear: it cannot understand logic. it is not acting out of malice - just fear or hunger.

bell hooks once wrote about how porches might be the only outside space left for women - it is still the domain of the house while it is also outside-but-safe. when i am in the woods, i am in the bear's home, and he has a right to defend his property. outside spaces - anywhere at night, certain parks in the day - those are often implicitly "owned" by men. i cannot explain the feeling of knowing when you have entered a man's "territory." you walk into a place and just know you are in their space. you get a sick sense - you're in danger.

the other day a group of about 8 men were fooling around in the woods while i walked my dog. i had to go around, take the extra 3 miles just to avoid them. it's okay, i like walking. this wasn't even a #feminism moment. it was just a tuesday.

what a plain and easy question. only one of the situations is seen as a tragic accident. i would rather die and have a park bench erected in my honor rather than have my family questioned about why they let me, an adult, walk in the woods in the first place when i should really be at home in the kitchen.

i worked in retail and food service. i have had women say and do absolutely heinous and abusive things to me - not because i was a woman, but because i was there, and they were angry. the way men treated me when angry was different - it was because i was a woman. you can always feel the difference, how there's an undertone of i'd hurt you worse if i could get away with it. i keep seeing people try to cite stupid statistics. why is there always a strange rage whenever women agree on things? like men can argue their way out of our lived experiences? it isn't a buzzfeed quiz - which of these traumas are you? 10 super cute ways not to fear strange men.

i have actually (thrice!) seen a bear in the wild, by the way. i died each time, obviously, and am a ghost writing to you. (it was scary but completely and utterly fine). the second encounter was a black bear with her cub. she looked at me like - do we have to do this or are we good? my dog was busy sniffing a bush, completely nonreactive. i felt like i was in a sitcom: feminist poet reacts - does she actually mean she'd choose the bear? my only thought was - she's so beautiful. her paws are massive.

and there's a part of me that feels the rage spinning out in a corner. why do we have to come up with quippy little comments in order to teach men empathy. would you rather die in a car accident or due to a mugging? and would you rather your house burn down due to an electrical fire or due to arson? gee willikers - it's almost like we're human people, and want to risk the accident versus the intention.

i would rather my last thought be oh shit, a bear rather than i'm a person too. why doesn't that matter? why don't you care?

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

I’ve read a variation of soft and rough König and I’ve enjoyed both but I’d love to see your take on his character.

I can’t deny I have a preference for soft König. I think his size is a major concern, especially if his partner is on the smaller side, which leads me to believe he’d prolong the inevitable and the pining and anticipation would be off the charts on his end. But maybe his SO thinks he’s not as interested as she initially thought.

Add in the fact that he’s gone for long periods of time in which there is little or no communication and perhaps she considers moving on. The ol’ miscommunication trope if you will, with a happy ending. Thanks!

Overflow the Stars

Pairing: König x F!Reader

Synopsis: One more abandoned date night later, you're left wondering if the man you're infatuated with is really interested in you at all.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Angst, feelings of insecurity, body issues, allusions to König's past w. bullying & his anxiety, size difference, fluff, soft!König, happy ending

A/N: This is my apology to the German-speaking people out there - I think I butchered your language (feel free to correct me). I'm so sorry lmfao. But, Anon, this request was adorable to write, hope you enjoy it!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You wanted to say you were surprised when he didn't show up – really, you did – but in the back of your mind, you already knew he wouldn’t. It was hard not to feel disappointed when you swirled your tiny cup of Franziskaner tensely, watching the whipped cream sink away into the concoction of dark espresso and milk; calling attention to the same feeling in your chest.

König had a strange habit as of late, and with a delicate furrow in your brow and perhaps even a smidge of sadness in your eyes, you wondered what you had done wrong. Why had he been avoiding you so…violently? While you wouldn’t have called yourself perfect by any means, nothing you had done over the course of your meetings was strange or downright embarrassing. 

You admitted that the man had never been the type to run away from something, and sighed as you brought the cup to your lips and sipped. Caffeine sits on your tongue along with a bitter revelation as the rain begins to pick up in velocity outside. The small and quiet café where you’re spending your afternoon is warm and unburdened by the weather. 

Do you think…he’s even interested in me anymore? The sharp thought brings a pang to your chest, fingers over the warm cup flinching back as if struck with lightning. O-or he doesn’t like being around me?

Your relationship was still new, very new, and if you were asked you would say it wasn’t even dating yet. König hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend. 

But it had still been going well.

“Or so I thought,” you take a breath, watching the fog on the window as the streets of Vienna are rapidly being emptied of tourists and locals alike. Your shoulders are painfully tight.

Aggressive rainfall like this into the cold seasons was unusual, but it wasn’t like mother nature cared about the whims of anyone but herself. It’ll freeze overnight, leaving a bitter chill that puffs from breaths and a shaky few steps out the door across hardened ice. You’d probably go out – alone – for a walk in the morning to clear your head, or try, at any rate.

Lately, all you could think about was the bear of a man that was supposed to be sitting in the empty seat ahead of you. The cursed wooden chair burns your eyes; its dark wood and red cushion stab your vision over and over until you’re sure you’ll bleed tears instead of water. 

He was supposed to be here.

Taking another shaky sip of your drink, one that König had recommended to you himself a few dates ago, the brief moments of warmth it brings to your bones does little to satisfy you. You doubted anything short of a hulking figure trying to stick their knees under the small table could do just that.

The giant man you called your possible future boyfriend was avoiding you, and your subconscious was breaking itself to try and understand why. As if that gracious plea had been heard above the glossiness of your eyes and the gentle hum of the café workers who shuffle about, the phone in your pocket jumps. 

You don’t want to admit how fast your hand snapped to your thigh, sneaking under the layers to draw out black metal. A single link to König when he was overseas or out of sight that you were told was unwise to use. He was rarely able to answer you, but for what it was worth, he always tried to call back later. 

Even if recently, it had been a brief state of events. 

“I-I can’t talk right now–”

“Forgive me–”

Your lips thin.

Pulling the phone out, you immediately look at the contact, though you already know the message before you read it. The sunken whipped cream finally falls under deep chocolate-colored waves.

“Sorry, Bӓrchen, I’m stuck in the building for the day! I swear I’ll make it up to you for missing–” You don’t bother reading the rest, thumb already scrolling upward to see the numerous times other excuses have been made. 

His parents were needing some help moving furniture, he was drowning in post-operation reports, or simply just too tired. You weren't stupid. But every time you had stuffed down your pride and responded cheerfully, dressed to the nines and standing in your living room while your fingers shook over the keys.

Holding back tears. 

It would hurt less if he’d just tell you to your face what you were thinking. Maybe all of this was just… 

Your thoughts trail off. 

But that didn’t make sense – König was never malicious!

Placing down the phone, you leave him on read, feeling the pitying eyes of the baristas burning into your skin like a brand. They knew as well as you did that he wasn’t showing up.

When he calls sometime later, you shut the device off completely. Staring out the window at the dimming light, you lean your head into the glass and try not to cry as you watch couples rushing for cover from the rain; laughing and holding the other close. 

The empty chair stays motionless in the corner of your eye.

—

The first time you met König, you were left gaping at the sheer size of him. 

Towering over ninety percent of the other patrons in the art shop, he had looked down at the package of charcoal pencils in his large, scarred, hands. Turning them over to read the description on the back like an expert with delicate eyelashes that you’d kill for. 

You yourself had been cast in his shadow quite by accident, looking along expansive shelves for a sketchbook – your friend had gotten into a watercolor phase lately, and what better to give her than a birthday present she could actually use? The only problem was that you had no idea what was considered good quality or not, but had a strange suspicion the man beside you did. But what a happy accident it all turned out to be.

König had a black surgical mask on, but the milky-white scar that ran up his right eyebrow and disappeared into his auburn hairline was still starkly visible. Expressive dark eyes blink down at his object from a surprising height. Between picking up multiple books, running your fingers over the paper and whatnot, you can’t help but stare at the pure strength the man emanates. Compared to you, he was utterly gargantuan in both mass and height. A bear and a bee, you thought with a stifled giggle.

He blatantly appeared to know more about this stuff than you did as he placed the charcoal pack down and picked up another.  

“Erm,” you begin, and his head snaps down to yours immediately, head of hair falling into gentle curls near the ears. He had looked partially surprised to hear you speak to him, and his eyes had flickered around instinctually. But it was only the two of you in the aisle. “I’m sorry to bother you, Sir, but you seem to know a helluva lot more than me about art supplies.” Your voice was cautious, and you were afraid you’d seem rude for disturbing him, but all he did was stare and wait for you to finish speaking. Feet every so often shifting, or his hands twitching as if he never was able to stay still; he blinks a few times like a rabbit. “Any suggestions for watercolor?” A small laugh meets the air as you move your hand to show off the wall of possible options for paper. “I’m not much of an artist, but my friend’s birthday is coming up – thought I’d get her something she’d actually use this year. She wasn't too enthralled with the plant I got her for her twenty-third. Killed the thing in a week.” 

A nervous chuckle is softly met and your face heated as his own did. There’s a moment of a clearing throat before the man nods carefully, and the sparse freckles over his forehead shift. His biceps flex.

“O-of course, Ma’am,” his accent is quite strong, and you like the guttural raspiness of his tone. “I prefer Saunders Waterford, though I don’t manage to use it often. Better, eh, was ist das Wort?” He stumbles for a moment over the proper descriptor. “Beständig. Durable.”

A tilt of his head later, and you’re beaming, picking up the large pad with careful fingers, testing the weight in your palms as one would an apple. 

“Wonderful! It looks like I owe you one, eh?” Looking back up, you watch his eyes widen as you notice him blatantly staring. Face crinkling into a shy display of heat and curiosity, he slightly moves back, a large hand going to scratch at the base of his neck as his sweatshirt bunches. 

Chest tight, you stick out a hand and offer your name with a smile. It was only customary, but the action was pure instinct more than thought-out. All the while restraining a shiver, his limb encompasses yours so completely and radiates a large amount of heat.

“A pleasure,” your voice wavers, but it’s not so much nervousness as it is genuine intrigue. For a man so blessed with the tall gene, he really had a considerate hold – barely squeezing your skin in fear it would break. 

The action makes your chest squeeze.

“Ah, guten tag,” he utters, nodding with a firm shake, though his eyelashes caress his cheeks as his eyes rove away, “König.” 

A bit awkward, isn’t he? You have to ask yourself. Not that it was a bad thing – in fact, you found the nervous tensing of his thighs to be cute, along with that red tinge that was over his pale ears. So very opposite of how you expected him to act.

That was when you noticed the dog tags, as well, though you found no purpose to say anything. But everything about this man had caught your attention as a large billboard would, and the comparison has you practically bending in laughter. He probably could be a billboard with a build like that. No doubt he’d catch a lot of attention.

You tilt your head and release his hand, nodding to König’s charcoal pencils. 

“I bet you can make some killer drawings with those things, huh?” The beast twists them in his hand and turns down to stare at the supplies as if he’d forgotten they’d been there at all. “You draw often?”

“Ja,” his eyes brighten, and the crinkling of his eyes tells you that a small smile pulls at his lips. “Whenever I’m able. I,” König pauses before his shoulders move in a soft movement akin to a shrug. “I…find it calming.” 

Your ribs move in reaction to an interested sound. 

A bear that likes to draw.

“You’re better than me, I’d just get frustrated if something doesn’t look right.” A deep laugh echoes off the shelves before a lapsing silence settles like a bird’s wings. Overcome by a sudden urge to speak, yet having no other words to say, König’s voice meets your ears before you can find something to say.

It’s slow, the tone, bathed in hesitation and even a smidgen of armor; like the outcome of your response was already measured and taken as null compared to the giant’s own thoughts.

“I…don’t suppose I could show you some if you’d be interested.” At your widening lids, his twitching hands come up to his sides, eyes blinking rapidly as a vermilion hue blossoms like a flower over his visible skin. Dark eyes like broken obsidian pay more attention to your shoes than your face.

“N-not, eh, scheiße, I only meant I–” Watching him stutter was similar to what a high schooler would do when he was called out during an assembly. Though, your giggle makes him clear his throat and pause with a stiffening spreading to his legs. His body seems to deflate, taking your reverence for his soft inward nature as making fun or at worse, a blatant rejection. The delicate makeup of his psyche was on display, though you didn’t know. “I’m…I’m sorry, Ma’am–”

“I’d love to see your artwork, König,” you begin, pulling the watercolor pad closer to your body instinctually, cheeks hot. The man perks up, and you can see his heart hammering through his clothes when his eyes blaze with light. “How about I give you my number and I’ll text you a day I’m free and we can work something out? A local café or library sound good?”

“I…yes, that sounds wonderful.”

—

You throw your soaked coat on the hook as you shut the door, hating how the frigid rainwater had wetted your hair, though still holding it as a blessing. At least no one could see the tear tracks as you walked back to your apartment. 

Kicking off heavy boots and peeling the slick layers of fabric from your chest with a sloping sound, you flick on the lights with a shaking finger and a sniffle. Wet footprints are left over the rugs and hardwood as the phantom shuffles over them, beelining to the bathroom to strip. 

Your mind was preoccupied as you slipped out of heavy fabric, the pile already on the floor creating a large puddle that you threw a towel on and left as it was. 

“He…he’d tell me if he didn’t like me anymore, right?” Whispering, the broken words meet air as you toss on a large shirt – the hem meeting your knees as a pair of thick sweatpants follow. 

Quite the look for someone who was having an internal battle. Your friends would say you looked like you were minutes away from grabbing a tub of ice cream and sobbing over a rom-com. The quick-witted part of you confessed that the idea wasn’t even that bad if you threw in a glass of beer. Preferably the shitty kind so you could complain about it and distract yourself.

“Get it together…” You would not cry over a guy that hadn’t even asked you out officially, but with that familiar sting in the back of your eyes, you hissed that König wasn’t just any guy.

You’d really liked him, and for what it was worth, your heart would have exploded if he had asked you out. 

He was kind – respectful. Utterly adorable when he was speaking so passionately about his artwork and his parents who he held on a larger-than-life pedestal. König’s heart was just as big as his body, that gorgeous, bear-like body, and…oh, you’d wished he would like you just as much as you liked him. 

Before you could stop the wave of hopelessness, the tears were already dribbling down your face, and the dark apartment was echoing with the barely-there sobs that hit the walls.

—

When you hadn’t answered him in the next two hours and his calls were going to voicemail, König was hit with a train’s worth of worry. Feet tapping faster than unusual and eyes were finicky as they passed over documents.

Although his contract with KorTac wasn’t exactly like his own had been in the military, the hyper-vigilance was still ingrained bones-deep. The Austrian man held his personal relationships tightly – and if someone wasn’t answering him, the anxiety reserved for large, uncontrollable, crowds reared its ugly head. König wasn’t sure when it had happened, but you had entered that loyal group consisting of his parents and a few work friends in an incredibly small amount of time. 

He really should have bit the bullet and gone out with you today, the man acknowledged as he slipped out of his office and tried once more to get in contact with you. König watched the icon of your smiling face go straight to the familiar voice that in any other circumstance, he would have wanted to listen another moment too.

“...Thanks for calling! I’m not able to speak with you right now, but go ahead and leave a message–”

“Come on, Bӓrchen.” König lightly growls, hanging up and stuffing the infernal device into his cargo pant’s side pocket. 

His usually hidden face was twisted up with worry, so commonly lit with bloodlust on Ops now left in a state of unknown. It was stupid to think like this, but how could he not? In such a small amount of time, you’d made him fall for you like a bird does the sky; that thin line between falling and flying caught underwing. 

That was why he’d been making excuses, you see. 

You were so…good…that he’d been worried about the way he carried himself; second-guessed small actions like a hand on the small of your back in public, or a comment about how nice you looked. 

Did she take that the wrong way?

Why did I tell her that?

I hope she doesn’t think that I’m rude…

You were messing with his mind with every turn, but it wasn’t even all that, either. His size also played a part. Your form was so small as it trailed beside him on walks through the city – it fit in the clutch of his arm easily. 

König was just scared he might break you, he’s never had to be…gentle so often before. It was against everything he’d been taught in the last decade or so.

Pushing open the front door of the KorTac: Private Military Contractor building, the man pushes on with a frown over his scarred lips and a drawn-in expression. He hadn’t even noticed he’d forgotten his surgical mask in his office, along with a jacket, and braved the volatile winds and slapping rain in a slight jog, an athletic shirt tight across his chest. 

By the time he’d reached your apartment building, his hair was dark and stuck to his skin, slight puffs of breath escaping his lips and wracking shivers along his spine. König ascended the stairs in double steps, agile as his heart pounded. 

Being ex-military left him with an undeniable state of readiness.

With heavy knuckles and panting breath, his hand quickly rasps against the door, and after a second of no sound, he does it again. 

“Bӓrchen, it’s me. Are you there?” König’s shoulders are set, ready to batter the door down at the barest hint of something wrong. He calls your name but like a voice on the wind, there’s no answer. Not even a shadow under the barrier, a whiff of your shampoo.

Grunting, strained eyes going grim, the man’s hand encompasses the handle, arm and body going parallel to the wood. His hips tense, feet grinding over the floor as they set. But the nearly missed footsteps that his ears twitched at gives him pause. 

After a few moments of intense listening, his body stone-stiff and eyes spaced out, there’s a clicking of a lock. 

König moves back swiftly, hands going to rest at his sides, and when your face graces his vision, a large weight is lifted. Until he realizes that your eyes are red-rimmed. His lids go startlingly wide, fingers coming up to curl into themselves near his middle, but you speak before he does.

With a hatred for interrupting others, König keeps his lips sealed and watches with a concerned once-over and nervous lungs.

Your hand is clenched over the door frame, the muscle of your tongue licking at your lips as beads of water fall from your locks. 

“What are you doing here, König?” With a voice more hoarse and dry than a desert. The man itches at the side of his hawk nose, hesitant about what he sees. 

You’d never been like this before – always so happy. 

“I…” He trails off quietly, seeing your eyes unwilling to meet his own. “Are you…alright?” 

The Austrian’s fingers jerk when you laugh, and a surprised blink later he’s coming closer to check on you, hand almost outstretched before he sees the size difference and thinks better of it. He just taps on your cheek instead, delicately, like a hit from a flower. 

“Sweet one? Please tell me what is wrong. You weren’t answering your phone.” He wants to beg for you to look at him, plead. “It made me worry for you. Why did you not respond?” 

“So you want me to respond when you’re obviously bailing on me for what,” you pull back, disappearing partially behind the door. König watches with a still body as your arms go to wrap around your waist, dread creeping up his throat. “The third time? Fourth? I guess I’ve lost count.” 

The man’s lips go thin, eyes crinkling as an expression of pure self-hatred takes hold. He had stupidly hoped you wouldn’t notice that. When times got tough for him in the past – whether with the schoolyard bullies or an operation on wrong, avoidance was usually his best tactic; it was one he had fallen back into time and time again without fail. But he’d never told you that. 

And now he looked like a proper Arschloch. 

But you’re not done yet. When you leave the door open and disappear inside the dark apartment, König follows after like a lost puppy, water still dripping from his strong chin and stuck in his stubble. Cursing himself out in his head. 

“Ach, du Depp, jetzt hast du‘s getan. Die eine gute Sache ruiniert, die du hattest, oder...?" He mutters, slipping out of his boots and frantically looking after you as your form goes to the couch. König closes the front door and stays in the foyer, fingers twiddling and mouth opening and closing. 

You hadn’t even looked at him yet, and you’d barely seen him without a mask on. 

The Tv was on, playing some show that he’d never seen and he doubted you were watching. Your body plops to the couch with a shrieking of springs and bouncing of pillows. A small huff escapes your lips, though you speak no more. 

König clears his throat again, a nasty nervous habit along with the fidgeting, as he takes a few steps forward. The finger of his right hand goes to spread through his hair, pushing the strands back like a red wave and unintentionally slicking them to his skull. The clicking of his jaw reverberates in his ears as he resets it, picking at the palate scar under his left nostril. 

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it fitfully and already his face is reddening. König looks away from you for a moment, breathing before shuffling over like a guilty child would on drowned socks. He places one leg on the floor and kneels down in front of you so he can better look into your creased face. 

“Bӓrchen,” he liked calling you that – little bear – because the comparison was enough to make him smile every time it passed his lips. It was such an endearing term that it became difficult to look past the blatant harm he could inflict on you if he wasn’t careful. While his size made him perfect for the field, home life was, well, let's just say he could easily force his way through a crowd. Not that he would, of course. But at any rate, that was what you were to him – a little bear. “I…I have to confess to you that I have been avoiding you, yes? That much has been,” a stiff breath is taken in. “Obvious.” 

Your head turns to the side, knees brushing his own as you hold your hands in your lap. Behind König the show continues to play, spreading a silver light over the living room and the continuous droning of voices.  

Not knowing whether it would be frowned upon or not, and with a steadying breath for confidence, the man loops a cold finger under your chin; bringing you back to him and finally setting your glossy eyes ahead. 

He sees you blink in surprise when you find him maskless, and a faint smile flicks over his lips when your expression goes shy. Cautious like a bird.

“It was of no fault of your own, Sweetling, I ask that you believe me. I’ll try to explain the best I can, Ja? If you’ll let me, though, I know that I don’t deserve it.”

“If you don’t like me anymore, you can just say it…Stop dragging me on, please.” His heart stops, mouth still partially open before a sharp breath is sucked in. “I don’t know if I can take that anymore.” The pang in his chest hurts immensely, like taking an arrow and peeling back skin. You look at him so hopelessly, broken beyond belief as though a piece of you was being ripped out.

“W-why do you say that?” König tries to desperately stop the wetness of your tears from falling, shaking his head and cupping both of your cheeks, rubbing at the flesh in agony. “No, no, no, Dear One. That’s not what it is at all, I beg of you to listen.” In the fever, he switches between his native tongue and English, fingers shaking though not from the drenched clothes. “Meine Schöne, oh, meine Schöne. Bitte hör auf zu weinen.“

He takes quick breaths and finds in himself that he would do anything to stop you from crying – take a bullet, run a marathon, or learn to fly. Name it, any of it. Anything to wipe away the sadness that lives in your expression as if it even belonged there in the first place

“Do not cry over me, please, I-I,” König’s tongue trips over itself, but he persists, a similar burn in the back of his nose. “I…You scare me, Bӓrchen,” that gets your attention, creased eyes and a loose jaw going to give him full observation. 

What?! Your expression screams.

Face on fire, the Austrian continues with intense eyes, dark obsidian awash with pure light that reflects stars. Overflowing with anxious tears that he refuses to let fall. 

He can’t lose you. No, no, not you. You were the best thing to happen to him in a long time. Damn him – damn his own consciousness that’s more of a betrayer than Brutus. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go… 

“...What?” Your voice wavers, nose twitching so adorably that the man is momentarily stunned. 

“I am afraid of you, my Dear. Utterly and wholly.” König sucks down a breath, now the one unable to continue the stare-off. His foot shifts. “I am afraid of what you do to me. Your smile, Gott, your smile. A-and the way you speak, how you react so honestly to my paintings like you care with all of your heart.” He laughs wetly when you smile dimly, continuing as he caresses your skin. “Everything down to your very bones is like…like…” König’s words fumble, because comparing you to something earthly was impossible to him. 

“Ever since I met you in that art store, I cannot string together words with any semblance of meaning when I am around you. Bӓrchen, you have entrapped my mind, and I am afraid.”

He watches you breathe in slowly, tears no longer falling, though the evidence still haunts him. The man’s chest lets go of a tightly wound knot, the anvil on the other side just narrowly missing his heart as the sweat on his brow evaporates.

“A-and,” König sighs, shaking his head and moving his hands to tightly hold your own in your lap. How could he explain the last part of this dilemma? He bluntly states, “you’re small.”

A brief moment of silence bleeds like a wound, long and slow, until a tiny snort echoes. Full-blown laughter emanates not even a second later, and he watches your body heave forward and slot itself with your nose in his shoulder. König’s blush stains all the way down his neck, but minuscule giggles also fall from him in retaliation to yours. His great arms wrap themselves around your waist, dragging you slightly closer as he breathes deeply. 

Your scent pulls him under like a ship at the water, riding great waves with sea beasts under the waves guiding the vessel along its course. 

“Everyone’s small compared to you.” Your mumbling in his shoulder makes his grip tighten, side-eyeing your visage as his head tilts down. “Not my fault you got every gene that made you sprout like a damn tree.”

With your lips caressing his neck, he blinks softly down at you, amused, as his breath mingles with your hair. He lets you speak, getting it all off your chest and feeling stupid for how he had been avoiding this.

“You’re afraid because you’re so big, then? That you might hurt me?” 

“Ja.” Your hands circle around his shoulders, and with a sigh that leaves the man short of breath, you shimmy back and face him, fingers playing with the base of his neck; pulling at tiny hairs. 

“Don’t you think being worried about that means something? And, c’mon,” you smile lightly to him, and he watches closely, fingers moving along your spine. “With how conscious you are of your body, it’s hard to imagine anything ever happening.”

Hands grasp his neck, and with a bobbing Adam’s apple, König yields to your pull, angling his head to you as your back straightens. Watching with awe; your silhouette bathed in silver light and eyes fatigued, though never more beautiful. You’re beaming.

“I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you, okay? So stop worrying about it, you big dope – and stop ditching me!” The Austrian’s dark eyes are fastly moved from one spot on your face to another, cataloging every bump and pore to memory. 

He’d never been this close to you before, though he’d fantasized about it. And what you were telling him…it’s like his body deflates with relief, and a genuine, boyish, smile blossoms. 

“Safe? W-with me, Bӓrchen? Oh-oh, my…” A kiss suddenly hits his forehead, and if you continued doing things like this, he was sure he’d explode. His body was vibrating with pure bashfulness; it was so odd to be complimented and doted on by someone that wasn’t his close family. For someone to reassure him of his flawed concerns. 

She feels safe with me. 

How could he tell you how happy that made him to hear aloud?

“Hey,” hands cup his jaw, and his spaced-out eyes snap back to you instantly, blinking away the rose-colored fog. You shake his head back and forth until he’s chuckling, like a kid again, and his grip catches your wrists to make you stop. Your breath fans over his blazing cheeks like a wind sent from Zephyrus himself, and the sticking clothes to his body matter little. “No more leaving me hanging, okay? I miss you, König. I want to be around you.” 

The eyes that travel down his scarred and freckled face leave him slightly self-conscious, but as if sensing this, your lips curve. Before he could utter a grunt of surprise, your kiss had connected with the scar on his forehead, as well as the palate. Just brushing the top of his lips as his large nose poked your cheek. 

“Mein Gott.” König gasps, eyes fluttering shut when you pull back and a grin slashes your face. A whisper meets the room.

“Thank you for showing me your handsome face, mein Schöner, I’ve been wondering what you looked like.” Shyly scanning his features, the redhead lets your fingers trace his flesh, shivers left in their wake, and a soft sigh. 

If he opens his eyes, he’s afraid he’d start crying. So he lets you touch his scarlet flesh, nearly the same shade as his hair, though the auburn is more deep-set. Shivering every time you lay another press of your lips to a blemish; more addictive than drugs. 

“You’re going to kill me,” König pleads, “but if this is punishment for causing you pain, I will gladly bear it.”

“Sly.” You smirk, pressing one more peck to his nose, and pulling back. He grumbles in his throat before his eyes peel open slowly; pupils blown wide and mouth parted. “Are you alive down there?”

“Barely. Perhaps I’ll need another kiss to tell, yes?” 

“You’re horrible.” Looking at his clothes, your eyes suddenly go grim. Like you’d just noticed the state of him now that he was kneeling in front of you and struck by your beauty. “And shivering.” You huff. “Why didn’t you start by saying you were soaked to the bone, König?” 

He looks to the ground, and you try to shuffle past and grab him a towel, but his arms trap you. You find yourself in a chest faster than you can blink, hands splayed over a pec that jerks as you’re lifted up. 

König hears you squeak and laughs, throwing you up into a bridal-style hold easily. Laughing chest-deep, you curl under his chin and quickly comment, “what are you doing?!” 

“Hush, Bӓrchen,” the man squishes you closer, “I’ll find a towel, don’t strain yourself.” 

You direct him to the bathroom after he sets you on your bed, hearing the pounding of rain outside as he sneaks off. 

The room smells of your shampoo, and König takes a pastel towel from the wrack after half-closing the door, slapping it to his head and violently rubbing it back and forth. Lost in his elevated thoughts and happy demeanor, the knock on the wood is almost missed. He’s just about to take off his shirt and wring it out when he blinks at the sound. 

“König – I’ve got some spare clothes, but I doubt they’ll fit you well enough.” An amused twitch of his lips later, he’s opening the door to your soft face, staring down at it. Standing shyly, your eyes crease; head tilting. “Sleepover?”

The man looks at the pile of fabric and nods kindly, a lofty feeling in his bones.

“Yes, please. They’re perfect, vielen Dank.” It isn’t long before he’s coming back out, a shirt that barely fits over his wide chest and a pair of sweats clinging to his hips. But he didn’t mind. 

They smelled like you, and thus, he smelled like you. König quickly found out that drawing wasn’t the only thing that could calm him. 

An embarrassed smile and a sheen of giddiness never leave his face.

He slides into bed with you, and you quickly latch under his arm, limbs tangling with his own as his fingers twitch over the width of the base of your shoulder blades. An easy expulsion of air leaves him as your weight settles, back curving to the make of the mattress. 

The words leave him in the delicate silence; water hitting the window and during the exploration of souls. Cheeks hot and heart hammering. 

“Sei mein?” Be mine? 

He feels your grin, nose nuzzling his flesh like it was the perfect pillow, and his heart speeds like a shooting star.

“Mein Herz war immer deins. Ja.” My heart was always yours. Yes. 

He stays awake for a long while, listening to your breathing and staring at the ceiling, running knuckles over your spine and staying silent. 

Smiling.  

[wheredafandomat]

Blood Lust

Written by @wheredafandomat and @simplyholl 🖤

Welcome to Whore-O-Ween everyone!!

Summary: You're sent to live with Father Laufeyson who is known for his work with wayward young ladies. But all is not as it seems.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Blasphemy. Loki going down on you while you're bleeding. Loss of virginity. Masturbation. Voyeurism.

W/C: 3K

Part of the Whore-O-Ween Spooktacular

The glow of the candlelight flickered. You stood to place another log on the fire. You were locked in your room for the third time this week. Since you had come of age, the young men of the village had taken notice of you.

Now you were twenty years old, and your family was desperate to marry you off. But you had gained a reputation among the village. You were to marry the innkeeper’s son, Jonathon. But his family broke the engagement once word got to them.

You had been seen with two men alone. This was all so silly. You had never even been kissed. You were saving everything for your husband, like any devout girl would.

Your father walked in, taking the wood from you, and placing it on the dying flames. “Daughter, you know there has been talk of your sins around the village. I cannot wed you to any of the young men. Even old Mr. Smith wouldn’t accept my offer for your hand.”

Your breakfast threatened to come back up at the mention of him. He was a strange, bald man who lived a few houses down. His wife had died of influenza years ago, and he never remarried.

“Harvey told me about a priest who takes in young girls who find themselves in trouble. He will pray over you and reform you until you are ready to come home. He lives two towns over. His name is Father Laufeyson. I sent him a letter asking him to take you. His reply came this morning, and he agreed. Pack your belongings. We will make the journey when the sun rises tomorrow.”

When you arrive, you notice Father Laufeyson’s house looks more like a castle from your storybooks than the cottages you were used to. That’s probably why it was tucked away far into the woods, away from the other houses.

Two people stood outside the large house waiting for you. One was Father Laufeyson. The first thing you notice is how handsome he is. You blush, God forgive me for thinking inappropriately, especially about a man of the cloth you silently pray.

The other was a tall brunette woman. She appeared to be a few years older than you. She beamed, walking toward you. She pulls you in for a hug, “I’m Esther.” You introduce yourself, returning the hug. She takes your hand, leading you into your new home.

That night at dinner, the three of you talked like old friends. You were starving, you notice Father Laufeyson doesn’t eat much. He just sips his red wine, listening to you and Esther chatter.

The following morning you change into your best church dress, meeting him and Esther downstairs. You and Esther take a seat in the front of the church. You look at the congregation, taking note that it’s mostly women. How unusual you thought.

Where were their husbands, brothers, and fathers? You shrug it off. Church was the only place a lady could go without the company of a man. You carefully watch Father Laufeyson as he begins the service.

There was something off about him, but you couldn’t place it. It could be that you were attracted to him. That had to be it. The priest in your village was old when you were born. You just weren’t used to priests being this young. After church, he took you and Esther on a picnic for lunch. You two ate the delicious sandwiches he prepared, but he refused saying he wasn’t hungry.

You had free reign of the house except for Father Laufeyson’s room. All three of you had rooms on the same floor. Yours and Esther’s were beside each other, making it easy for late night talks. His was down the hall.

It had been four weeks since you first arrived. You liked it better with each passing day. You could take walks along the property. You could read all day, if you liked. He had quite the extensive library.

You wake up in the middle of the night when you hear Esther cry out. You leave your room, candle in hand walking toward the noise. You stop at Father Laufeyson’s room. The door is ajar just enough to peek inside. You see Esther against the wall, head thrown back in ecstasy, legs wrapped around his waist. He thrusts up into her. You gasp, covering your mouth when he looks toward the door.

You know you should leave, but you stay glued to your spot, never taking your innocent eyes off of them. Esther moans when his hand moves between them under her dress. He gathers her hair off her neck, pale face leaning down toward her.

The candlelight in his room shines on his face, putting a spotlight on his long fangs sinking into the side of her neck. He feeds on her slowly as she slumps in his arms. You press your hand harder to your mouth to stifle your cries. Tears streak down your face as you run back to your room.

You had heard about vampires before. Your village and the surrounding ones were once overrun with them. The pale beasts were all destroyed. But here you are living with one who disguised himself as a man of God.

You keep replaying what you saw over and over. He bit Esther, but she seemed to be enjoying it. You feel an unfamiliar ache between your legs from thinking about it. You run your hand up your thigh to your core. You were most likely going to die by the hands of the handsome vampire. You might as well experience a little pleasure before you do. You would beg for God’s forgiveness later. Your fingers swipe through your untouched folds, taking the slick arousal to your clit.

You move clumsily, hesitating at first. Then you imagine Father Laufeyson holding you against that wall, his teeth on your neck. You shake as your very first orgasm hits you. The following morning, it’s just you and the fake priest. “Father, where is Esther? Is she unwell?” You ask him, studying his face for a change in demeanor.

“She’s well. Her family came back for her before daylight. She went to your room to tell you goodbye, but you were sleeping so soundly, she didn’t want to wake you.” You put on your best fake smile. Esther was dead, and the beast before you killed her. You tried to avoid him as much as possible in the following days.

But you had to dine with him, even if he didn’t eat. You still had to attend church with him. Other than that, you stayed hidden in your room. You were terrified of him, but that didn’t stop you from fantasizing about him. You spent your nights with your hand under your nightgown or humping your pillow thinking of him.

It was shameful, but you couldn’t stop. You felt so guilty after making yourself cum twice in one night, you got down on your knees, praying for forgiveness, begging for it. That night, you dreamt that you drove a stake through his heart, ending this misery. You took it as a sign from God. This is what you were meant to do.

Father Laufeyson took you into town. You waited until he went into the store, and you walked to the woodworker’s shop. You commissioned an oak stake. They looked at you like you had lost your mind. They told you the last of the vampires had been destroyed long ago. But the coins Laufeyson gave you put food on the table for their families.

You had to wait three long weeks before he took you into town again. When you got the chance, you went to retrieve the weapon. That night, you decided it was time. You couldn’t live with him anymore, not after knowing what he is. You had to fulfill your purpose. You knew he was at the church preparing his sermon for the next morning. You ran the whole way there, heart racing.

You stepped inside cautiously, trying to ignore the chill of the air telling you to turn back around, to run away. But you couldn’t. Your feet carried you forward, surprisingly confident, unlike yourself. Confidence, that’s what you needed, what you tried to embody, that was your protection against the pale beast.

You flinched as a jolt of lightning shone through the church, lighting everything in a quick spark of chrome before you were in darkness again, except for a few candles. You knew you had to act as if nothing was wrong, as if you didn’t know. Survival was only guaranteed that way.

“Y/N.” You took a deep breath hearing your name fall from his lips in a honeyed utterance. “Father.” You greeted him, the faux priest, as you stepped towards him. “Come, child.” He gestured to the organ, prompting you to follow him. “Sit.” You fought to keep your breathing steady as you approached him, biting your lip to stop it from trembling as you observed him.

You were told that his kind would perish in a place like this, that they would burn. But here he was making a mockery of God, wearing an idle collar and parading around untouchable. But not after tonight. Many times, you had shared this seat with him, ignoring the cold that his presence brought, ignoring the call to sin when he looked at you, emerald green eyes boring into yours.

Tonight was different, you couldn’t relax. “What ails you?” He questioned, lifting his hand and stroking a key with one of his dexterous fingers. “I believe I may have found my calling.” You answered, taking a deep breath as you raised one of your fingers onto the keys. “Your calling” He repeated almost questioningly. “Other than to serve your god?” My God?” ���God.” He corrected. “Yes, I believe he has asked me to serve Him in another way.” You continued, both of you gently playing a familiar tune.

“Pray tell, what is this other way? What is this newfound calling?” “I must protect this Earth.” You stated, using your free hand to clutch the weapon in your pocket. “From what?” He questioned, turning to look at you with a small smirk. ��From me?” “What?” You gasped, trying to keep your breaths even. “Do you really think a piece of oak would be enough to stop me?” He snickered.

“I mean honestly” He continued, leaning towards you, his mouth dangerously close to your neck as you froze. “You underestimate me.” He noted coyly, reaching around you, grabbing the cross stake from your other hand. “No!” You cry, still frozen in fear as he threw it across the room. “On the contrary, I do believe you have another calling.” He stated, standing before stepping behind you.

“A more carnal one.” He continued; his voice sharp in your ear as he leaned over you. “I mean you serve a man no more virtuous than yourself” He paused as you gasped. “I’ve read the books.” He cut you off. “You serve a man no more virtuous than yourself, yet you reap no rewards.”

“I will be rewarded with an eternity in His kingdom.” You spat. “How about a night in mine?” He smirked against your ear, causing you to spin around. “You’d never admit it, but you’ve sinned more than me.” “Don’t you dare say that!” “You think I don’t know you touch yourself thinking about me, yearning for me, even after you found out exactly who I am, what I am?”

“S-stop.” You stuttered. “Grinding against your pillow, moaning my name. Oh! It’s music to my ears.” He cheered. “I’m offering you a night of sin, a night with me.” He proclaimed. “I won’t judge you. I welcome your debauchery. I’ll cherish your moans. I’ll reward your praise.” “St-stop it.” You continued to stutter, clenching your thighs together.

“Burn with me, Y/N, just for tonight.” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his lips brushing against yours as you close your eyes. “I’ve never been touched.” You emitted nervously; eyes still closed. “I know, but you want to be. It’s what you have spent so long desiring.” He spoke against your lips, one of his hands ghosting down your body as your breath hitched.

He didn’t have to push your legs apart; they were already gapped from your quick spin around. You inhaled sharply as you felt him cup your sex, eyes opening to find him staring into yours. “Is this where you touch yourself when you think about me?” He smirked, his hand moving up and down, massaging against your clothed heat.

“Rubbing yourself, imagining me, my hand, my body until you reach there, that sweet release.” He almost cooed, his hand more pressured now. You tried to stave away the temptation of bucking your hips into his touch, but it was hard. It felt too good. You wanted more. You needed more. You needed him to do what he did to Esther. “Tell me what you desire, and I’ll do it.” “Take it.” You answered almost breathlessly. “It?”

“My purity, take it.” “That’s my girl.” He purred in your ear again, before his free hand gripped your chin, pulling you into a deep kiss. His tongue pushed passed yours, exploring your mouth. His other hand was still between your legs, your hips thrusting into his touch.

Now that his lips were properly on yours, you realized how cold they were, how gelid. Your hands reached upwards, cupping his cheeks which were no warmer than his lips. You tried to stay silent, but you couldn’t, not when you felt his hand slipping underneath your skirt, fingers smoothing over the cloth material of your panties.

“Father!” You gasped as two of his fingers pushed your underwear to the side, meeting your clit. “Loki.” He corrected. “Loki” you moaned, eyes closing as he drew languid circles over your clit. “You virgins are so receptive.” He sniggered. “You’re already so wet for me.” His name fell from your lips again as he continued his movements, his fingers growing slick from your arousal. Lost in the pleasure, you almost didn’t realize that his fingers were venturing lower down your center.

Your eyes flew open, feeling him enter you slowly. “L-Loki” You stuttered feeling full. “Do you like that?” He asked, leisurely pumping his fingers in and out of you. “Yesss” You hum in response, drowning in the sensation. You felt overwhelmed, you were wetter than you’ve ever been.

Small moans escaped you as Loki continued thrusting his fingers inside of you. A metallic scent evaded your nose. As if he could smell it too, Loki stopped his movements causing you to open your eyes, only for them to round in surprise at the sight of his fingers. They were practically glistening crimson. You barely had time to react before Loki was bringing them to his lips, licking off the blood.

“What’s happening?” You panicked, despite not being in any pain. “It’s normal.” Loki answered, releasing his index finger with a pop. The remembrance of what he was overcame you as a blanket of guilt shrouded you. You didn’t feel good anymore. Before Loki could continue, you began closing your legs wanting to leave. You wanted to forget about all of this, but instead you yelped, feeling him grab one of your legs and pushing them further apart as he got to his knees. He slid your panties off your legs, discarding them on the floor.

“One can’t prepare a feast and expect others not to dine.” He spoke cryptically before you felt his cold, wet tongue against your core lapping up the blood dripping from you. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping it tightly as he entered you with his tongue, washing any hesitation away. You couldn’t help but scream in pleasure at the feeling of his nose rubbing your clit as he feasted on you.

“Delicious.” He spoke against you as you shamelessly ground your hips against his face. You were overcome with delectation despite the fact that this was more than just a carnal encounter. “I need you, Loki.” You finally implored, interrupting Loki’s banquet. Glancing up at you, he lifted his head from between your legs, licking his lips clean as he lowered your leg. His hand found yours as he prompted you to join him on the floor.

You did so, wordlessly straddling him like you imagined so many nights alone with your pillow. He felt good underneath you, like it was where he belonged. Your bare sex rubbed against his clothes as you readjusted yourself, Loki looking up into your eyes. “Is this how you want me to take you?” He spoke, breaking the silence. “Yes.” You replied, trying to quell your nervousness. Loki didn’t talk as he unsheathed himself before guiding you above his manhood.

He watched your expression as he thrusted up into you, his hands on your hips pushing you down against him. You couldn’t help your moans as he filled you, burying himself inside you. You move your hips against his, living out your fantasy. You found yourself growing closer to the end, to your release, to his demise. He was obviously moving slower for you, you had watched him move a lot faster for Esther, and for that you’d make sure you were as quick as you could be.

Leaning down against him, your lips almost brushed his again as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around the discarded stake. Loki was right, it was oak. Well, most of it. What he didn’t know was that the tip was willow, lethal. “You feel so good, so pure.” Loki groaned from beneath you, gripping your hips tightly as you sat back up.

His eyes were closed, that’s how he didn’t see it, how he didn’t know he was in danger. You continued grinding your hips against his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you neared your climax. Walls tightly gripping Loki’s length, you raise your hand before plunging the stake into his chest.

Loki’s eyes flew open, the betrayal evident on his features as his life slipped away. You felt powerful, immensely so, as you took his life, draining him, milking him. You moaned as your climax shook you. This was it; this was your calling.

Tags 🖤

@lokischambermaid @gruftiela @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @itsybitchylittlewitchy @wolfsmom1 @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @buttercupcookies-blog @lokisgoodgirl @donaweasley @muddyorbsblr @litaloni @lovingchoices14 @mochie85 @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @glitchquake @goblingirlsarah @multifandom-worlds @kats72 @eleniblue @mischief2sarawr @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @marygoddessofmischief @lulubelle814 @evelyn-rathmore @lokiestorch @ladymischief11 @valarieravenhearst1 @cakesandtom @monkey0105 @dj-murasaki @ririsutty73 @cindylynn @violethaze @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

[thornsnvultures]

the big bad wolf

wolfman!steve harrington x plus size!fem!reader

summary: when your boyfriend ditches you at steve harrington's halloween party for another girl, you go to leave, only to run into the man himself. steve's costume doesn't look like much but you're about to find out there's more to him than meets the eye. <3k words

cw: 18+ NSFT, a shitty boyfriend, flirty!steve, making out, oral sex (fem rec), pussy slapping, nipple play, super hairy!steve, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, knotting, mid sex transformation, bad little red riding hood jokes (steve calls her little red)

a/n: moodboard by me, divider by @/saradika

"What are you supposed to be?"

Your sniffling is cut short and you jump in surprise, not realizing you weren't alone. Steve Harrington stands in the shadows, leaning up against the side of his house, the lit end of his cigarette the only thing just barely illuminating his face. You brush at the rumpled edges of your costume, straightening out the many layers of fabric as you try to pull yourself together and not look so pathetic in front of Hawkins royalty.

"Can't you tell?" You huff, not in the mood to be toyed with.

"Red dress, red cape, basket of goodies," Steve smirks, his eyes catching on your exposed legs and staying there as he takes another drag. "What brings you to my neck of the woods, Little Red?" Steve steps closer, inching his way towards you as he drops his cig and stomps it out. "On your way to grandma's? I think you might be lost, Little Red."

The smirk on Steve's face makes your insides boil. You've already been put through enough tonight, you don't need any more from him.

"I'm not lost. Just needed some fresh air."

"I like the getup," Steve smirks, circling you, fingers lightly toying with the ends of your skirt.

You pull yourself away from Steve's curious fingers, backing away from him even as he advances on you. Like he's getting a kick out of fucking with you.

"What are you supposed to be anyway?" You ask, waving your hands in confusion at his costume, or lack there of. He's mostly shirtless, his surprisingly hairy chest is exposed behind an open denim vest. Your stomach flipped taking in his sweaty, well defined torso and thick arms. It was strange that he looked this sweaty at the end of October, maybe he oiled himself up? Or ran a few laps around his fancy pool before his party guests came over? You stifled a laugh, biting your lips.

"You can't tell?" Steve lifted his arms and did a little spin. You might've checked out his ass in his perfectly fitted jeans when he did. "I'm the big bad wolf."

His grin at least was wolfish, he looked at you like he wanted to eat you up. Steve laughed when you didn't say anything, just quirking a brow at him, clearly not amused by his teasing.

"Yeah okay, Steve." His smile dropped when you rolled your eyes but you were past caring. You needed to get out of here, away from this stupid party and the idiot you came here with. Not that he cared if you left or not. You felt your throat close up and willed yourself to stop, to not fall apart now, especially not in front of Steve who would only tease you more.

You looked back inside one more time only to catch a glimpse of your date, who had ditched you halfway through the night for some other girl. His hands were around said girl, swaying to the heavy, pulsing music blasting inside.

Steve was watching you watch them. You knew he figured out your little dilemma when his wolfish grin returned. That was it. You're walking home. Maybe not the best idea, walking that far on your own on Halloween night in this silly getup, but anything would be better than hanging around here.

"Hey! Wait up, Little Red!" You heard Steve follow you as you stormed through the crunching fallen leaves that the chilly autumn air had left strewn across Steve's lawn.

"Go bother someone else," you snapped, spinning around to face him. Steve was much closer than you anticipated when you stopped. You were face to face with his solid chest, nearly colliding with him if you hadn't pulled back at the last second.

"You're not walking home, are you?" Steve's hands were on your arms now. Big and warm and firm, holding you in place so you couldn't bolt.

"It's none of your business," you still tried to tug out of his grasp but it was no use, a fact that terrified and excited you in ways you didn't want to think to hard about.

"Oh I know," Steve nodded his head, pouting in a patronizing way that made you want to slap him. "But I can't bear to watch you stray from the path," he nodded to the woods behind his house, pitch black but for the full moon shining through the leaves of the trees. "There's monsters on these woods, little girl," Steve tugged you closer until his lips were by your ear. "You'll get eaten right up."

His words, and the heat of his breath on your skin, sent a shiver down your spine. A bird flew by just then with a screech making you jump in his grasp. Steve chuckled and let you go

"If you want to walk home, Red, be my guest. Or...," Steve dragged out that small word, tugging at one of the bows on your dress, one right by your breast. Your chest heaved with the shaking breath you took as you b watched him, inadvertently pressing your flesh into his hand more. Steve smirked and tugged at it again. "I can make sure you get home safe and sound."

"But it's your party-"

"Nobody in there gives a fuck about me," Steve growled. You suddenly felt like his declaration was true, maybe he was the big bad wolf. His mood had soured significantly, but he still looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"Okay. Sure. Thank-," you began to whisper, looking down at your feet.

Steve grabbed your chin, cutting you off and forcing you to look up at him. "You can thank me later. Let's get you to grandma's house."

Steve grabbed his keys and hopped in his Beemer with you. He was right. No one stopped him to ask where he was going, when he'd be back. You guessed a guy with parents constantly out of town, the rules for house parties were a bit more relaxed.

Steve, it seemed like, was anything but relaxed. Even after he lit up another cigarette in the car, he was wound tight.

His hand never left yours either. He held it as he dragged you to his car and for most of the car ride he kept his right hand on your thigh. Occasionally he would rub circles on your skin with his thumb or give your plush thigh a squeeze. Almost like he was grounding himself with your presence. His hands were burning hot on your skin.

When he finally pulled up to your building, he stopped you with his hand on your arm before you could open the door to get out.

"Steve?"

"You haven't said thank you yet."

"Thank you." You moved to get out again but Steve was still holding your arm.

"Uh-uh, Little Red. Try again. You have something I want."

You swallowed tightly at the hungry look in his eye. "The goody basket is empty," you shook it around, trying for a laugh to break the tension. Steve couldn't be implying what you thought he was. This was Steve Harrington, he could have any girl in Hawkins he wanted. Apparently, at least for tonight, that girl was you.

"Very funny," Steve grabbed your chin again, this time pulling you close until his lips were on yours. And you were letting him. God his lips were soft. Plush and smooth. He tasted so good you found that one kiss wasn't enough. Neither were two or three.

"You taste so good, Little Red," Steve groaned into your mouth. "Bet you taste good all over."

A whine spilled from your lips that shocked you with how needy it sounded. Steve was an asshole, sure, but he had already done more for you tonight than your boyfriend. Sorry, ex-boyfriend.

"Let me taste you, baby. Give me what I want."

"Do you always get what you want, Steve?" Your question is said before you realize you're saying it. You knew the answer already.

Steve chuckled and stroked your cheek with his thumb. "More or less. Are you going to be a good girl for me and give me what I want? I'll warn you, I do bite." Steve nips at your jaw and you shudder and paw at his bare arms.

"Yes. Take it, take me."

Steve rushes the both of you into your apartment, helping you when you fumble with your keys. Your roommate isn't home, out at some party of her own. So you don't feel so bad about the noises you make when Steve finally gets you inside.

You move to unzip your dress but Steve bats your hands away. "Leave it on. For now." He does, however, tear your tights off, shredding the thin white fabric off like it's made of tissue paper. "Steve," you whine as he spreads your legs up and open.

"Hold these for me," he grabs your hands and puts them on your thighs, making sure you're holding yourself open just the way he wants as he sheds off his denim vest. "So pretty, baby." Steve brings his hand down with a harsh slap down your clothed pussy. His thumb works over the wet spot already growing in the center and he kneels in front of you at the edge of your bed.

Steve tugs your underwear up your spread thighs and off of you. You don't see where they go after, but you don't hear them hit the floor.

Steve bites and licks at your thighs, his teeth sharp like pin pricks, ones that send shivers down your spine and make your pussy weep even more. He sucks marks into your thick thighs, taking you apart before he's even got his mouth on your cunt. But once he does, holy fuck, it feels like heaven.

His mouth descends on your pussy and you bother holding back your scream. Steve's tongue is long and deliciously thick, wrapping around your clit and sucking the soul out of you, filling you with his tongue until you're seeing stars.

"That's it, baby, that's it. Come all over my face. Tastes so fucking good." Steve adds one thick finger after another until you feel so full like you're about to burst. And with a few more licks you do, tugging on Steve's hair, your thighs squeezing his head as you ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

Steve gently kisses your bruised thighs, your soft belly. His face looks... different, harsher. You can't quite explain it, especially not in your post-orgasm haze.

"My, my what big teeth you have," you laugh as Steve nibbles up your belly, finally tugging you free of your silly costume. You lift up so he can slip it all the way off and admire your breasts, aching and waiting for his mouth.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear." Steve's words are a little slurred and you can't help but wonder just how pussy drunk he is. You know he wasn't drunk drunk, or if he was he hid it well until now.

Steve licked and sucked at your nipples, taking his time to pay attention to each one, plucking and pulling at them until you were keening, writhing on your bed and begging for more.

You gripped his forearms as his fingers worked deftly over your body. Were they always this...hairy? Not that you had a problem with hair, you loved a guy with body hair and Steve seemed to have plenty of it. Just, more than you remember.

"Steve, please," you whined, feeling yourself inching closer to the edge from the attention he was paying to your breasts. His leg wedged between yours and you found yourself unable to stop from grinding against his muscular thigh, greedy for more.

"Please what? What do you need, Little Red?" Steve's voice was deep, almost like a growl, the sound shooting straight to your pussy.

"Need you. Need you inside. Fuck me," you begged, not caring how pathetic you sounded. It had been so long since you felt this good. If your ex was getting this kind of action with someone else, fuck it, you would to. Steve wasn't playing around anymore. He was giving you what you needed, taking from you what he wanted. And you wanted to give it to him, to give him everything.

You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest when Steve bent down to kiss you, a deep, blistering kiss that made your mind go numb even as you questioned again if his chest hair was this thick earlier.

Steve pulled away with a growl and quickly tore off his jeans, chucking them across the room.

"Oh fuck," you groaned at the sight of Steve's cock before he flipped you over on the bed. Part of you was concerned about him fitting, but that part was quickly squashed when you felt him rub the tip through your folds.

"You on birth control?"

"Yes," you gasped, the word barely leaving your lips before he was pushing inside, bare. "Oh my god, Steve."

Steve pulled out again to lift your hips more, adjusting you to the angle he needed before slamming back inside. You screamed into your pillow, clawing at your sheets as Steve worked his cock inside, fucking deeper into your cunt with every thrust. You could feel every ridge and vein rubbing deliciously against your walls.

"That's it, baby. Doing so good for me." Steve kissed down your spine and his lips felt... different. You could barely focus on anything but the delicious stretch of his cock, but that mouth. It felt like... fangs, like he could barely fit his sharp teeth in his mouth.

Steve nuzzled into your hair, your neck, breathing you in a he rutted into you at a brutal pace. If his big hands weren't wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to meet his heavy strokes, your head would've broken through your headboard by now. You could feel his chest hair rubbing across your back, feel his heart hammering, breathing hard.

"Steve," you whined, overwhelmed by all these confusing, amazing sensations.

"Shh, I got you, baby." Steve reached under you, squeezing your belly before dipping between your thighs to rub your swollen, achy clit. Your mind was racing with unanswered questions, but they were pushed to the back of your mind until the pleasure was all you could think about. You felt so fucking full from his cock, pounding into you over and over, so deep in your guts you could feel him in your throat.

"Feels so good, baby. Taking my cock so well. Think you can handle more?"

"More?" You didn't know what more was or if you could even handle it but you wanted it, you were already nodding your head saying, "yes yes yes".

Just as you felt a pressure in your pussy begin to swell, like a balloon expanding inside your pussy, pushing at your walls like nothing you'd ever felt before, you turned your head and locked eyes in your vanity mirror with... something.

It was Steve, but it wasn't. He looked like a Wolfman straight out of the movies. Something horrible with giant fangs and fur along his jaw, torso and arms, but something so... Steve. It was Steve, but it wasn't.

Steve looked shocked, not realizing the damn mirror was there, but he was already coming. His monstrous yellow eyes softening at the sight of your blissed out face. He exploded inside you, filling your cunt with a shout, a long low growl, as he filled you more than you've ever been filled. His fingers on your clit pushed you over the edge with him and you came, clenched down on the protrusion on his cock that was keeping his cum locked inside you.

Steve removed his hand from between your legs and you saw it, the claws at the ends of his fingers.

"Steve," you gasped

"I'm sorry. I tried to warn you," you scoff, "I shouldn't have- I thought I could control it," he clenched his fist as he spoke, hiding his claws from you.

You could barely wrap your head around it, how the man you knew had suddenly become a beast. But you've also never been fucked so good in your life. It was a lot to take in.

Your mind reeled as Steve turned you on your side, still locked inside your pussy, which felt bizarre but oddly comforting, and snuggled up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you.

"You really are the big bad wolf."

"I told you so."

"I thought you were fucking with me," you smack Steve's arm and he chuckles behind you, the low sound vibrating through your chest. "Why would I believe you?"

"Your right, I should've said something. I thought I could control it, but with the full moon and how fucking sexy you looked in the costume-"

"I looked ridiculous."

"You looked so hot. It's just my luck that your boyfriend's a piece of shit."

"Lucky me," you laugh, leaning back into Steve's chest. "So what's up with your dick?"

"Oh yeah." You're sure Steve's blushing under his fur. "It's my knot. We might be stuck together like this for a while."

"Hmm. Fine. You can show me what other weird stuff you've got going on tomorrow then."

You close your eyes, relaxing into Steve's hold on you. For a moment he think you've fallen asleep until you speak again.

"Oh my, what a big cock you have," you mumble, already half asleep.

Steve laughs, being careful not to jostle you too much. "All the better to fuck you with, Little Red."

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

I keep going to the river to pray

Written for the March pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: spring

Rated: M

Tags: Italian Steve Harrington; naiad Eddie Munson; past lives

CW: child molestation (not from MC); nudity; fade to black sex

Notes: Moooom, hype is turning the blorbos into water creatures again!

Steve is five years old and the water whispers to him. 

“Steven, come back inside,” Mom scolds and yanks sharply on his hand. “Nonna told you the woods are off limits. The water is too dangerous. Heavens, I can't leave you alone for two seconds, can I?” 

Steve wants to cry. To thrash and kick and scream at the injustice of it all.

Because she is leaving him alone. All alone in this strange country where there's nothing fun to do and where nobody speaks his language, for an entire summer. How's he even supposed to listen to Nonna when he doesn’t understand her half the time? 

The only place where he finds comfort is the spring. The little pond with its crystal waters surrounded by crumpled pillars. He doesn’t know why, just knows there's something here that calls to him. 

Mom doesn't understand, and Steve is too small to fight as she drags him away. Something splashes behind them, like a large stone sinking underwater, but by the time he turns, all he can see is ripples on the surface. 

He doesn’t know why he says it, because there's nobody here. Nobody he can see. It feels like the right thing to do, though. 

“Don't worry,” he whispers to the water. “I'll be back, promise.” 

The water whispers back. 

*

Steve is thirteen and a man follows him into the woods. He's been lurking in corners and doorways in the village all day, smiling, staring, speaking saccharine words in broken English. 

Pretty boy, sweet boy, come here. 

By the time Steve notices he's trailing behind him on the lonely road in the fading daylight, it's too late to cry for help. He ducks into the shelter of the trees without thinking, not looking back when he hears the man give chase. Darkness is falling around him, but he doesn’t need to see. 

All he needs to do is follow the pull. 

The spring reflects the moon and stars, silver waves bouncing off the trees and pillars. 

“Help me,” Steve whispers, just as a hand grabs his wrist and spins him around. 

The man's face is a mask of primal hunger. His eyes glint, dark and unblinking- 

-and then they catch on something behind Steve's back and bulge. All the color drains from his face. He stumbles back, releasing Steve’s wrist, muttering a word in Italian that he doesn’t understand. Then, he turns and runs. 

Steve stares after him, heartbeat roaring in his ears. By the time he remembers to look behind him, there's nobody there. The spring lies silent in the starlight, but the water isn't smooth anymore. A circle of ripples is spreading, not far from where he's standing, waves lapping against the shore. Steve imagines he sees something slipping out of sight in the water, like dark tendrils of seaweed. Then he blinks and it's gone. 

Steve smiles.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly. 

*

The water murmurs back. 

Steve is eighteen and everything is bullshit. He perches on a fallen pillar, toes dangling in the water, watching the sunset behind the trees, and feels sorry for himself. 

He can't protect his heart from being broken, can't get into college, can't even get his parents to love him. They probably believe they're punishing him by sending him back here, he thinks with a laugh. Idiots. They know nothing about him, nothing about the pull he feels towards this place. He's been feeling it more and more lately, even with an entire ocean between them. 

“Have you finally come to stay, sweetling?” 

Steve doesn’t startle. Simply blinks back from his thoughts and lowers his gaze, like it's always been the two of them out here. Maybe that’s true. 

“You're not scared,” the boy from the spring observes. His head is poking out of the water between Steve’s legs, long dark hair brushing his ankles. He's naked under the water, skin pale and smooth as marble. “Do you not fear me?” 

“Why would I? You've never given me reason to.” 

The language that slips from his lips is strange. Not English. Something closer to the butchered Italian he's picked up over the years. He frowns, briefly, but the boy's lips - pink and full and glistening with tiny droplets - curl into a smile and he forgets to wonder about it.

“Clever child.” Long fingers curl around Steve's calves, sliding up his legs. “I'd never harm what's mine.” 

The fingers slip under the hem of Steve's shorts, gracing his inner thigh, and he gasps. 

“Yours?” 

The boy hums, pulling himself from the water a little, so that his shoulders emerge. His hair is a dark, tangled halo around his pretty face. It tickles Steve’s skin as the boy noses along the inside of his knee.

“Yes, mine. You feel it, do you not? The pull.” 

Steve nods breathlessly and the boy smiles against the soft flesh of his thigh. 

“Of course you do, sweetling. It has been forever since I met someone as responsive, but you? You remember, don't you?” 

Steve pauses. Is that what pulls him here? Memories of a time he shouldn’t recall? Of a place far more splendid than the crumbling ruins around them, a place filled with song and laughter and the strange but familiar language that keeps tumbling from his mouth? 

The boy - the god - watches the shift in his face and smiles. Nimble hands settle on his hips, pulling him closer, and Steve slings his arms around slender shoulders as the pillar slips out from under him. 

His god's eyes are bright as he walks them to the middle of the pond. 

“It has been so long, sweetling, and I hunger for worship. Will you give yourself to me again?” 

“I do not need to,” Steve smiles as he is slowly lowered into the cool waters. “You've always had me.” 

His god smiles and pulls him in, and Steve sighs against those beautiful lips. 

The water welcomes him home. 

In Roman mythology, naiads (better known under the name of their Greek counterparts, nymphs) are nature spirits most commonly associated with water, guarding rivers, springs and the like. Some were worshipped as local deities, with shrines built in their honor.

[kichiyosh1]

Deceitful youth

Modern au! scaramouche x f! reader

w//: yandere themes, suggestive, cross-dressing, obsession, photographs of you and your stolen things

summary: When you finally transfer to an all girls school, he was left with no choice but to take on a false female identity. Just so he wouldn't have to be separated from you, he'd do anything.

< previous | Masterlist | next >

He was obsessed with you from the start.

That day in grade school when you found him playing alone in a corner and you came to offer your hand out for him to take, inviting him to play with the other kids with a cheery smile on your face.

"It must be boring playing there by yourself, come on! i'll introduce you to the others!"

He only stared at your outstretched hand, before looking back up to meet your eyes, his eyebrows drooping before he averted his gaze a few seconds after.

"I don't like playing with the other kids, they think i'm weird..."

"What do they think they're talking about? there's nothing wrong with being weird! I mean, i think i'm weird, but there's nothing wrong with me, see?" you then proceeded to flail your arms out in the air, thinking that'd somehow convince him of your point.

'nope, there's definitely something wrong with you' he wanted to say, but he decided ignoring you would be the best course of action. Unfortunately, you weren't going to let him.

"Let me play with you then! whether if you're called weird or not, I dont mind, because you're definitely much cooler looking than the other kids!"

Cool? you think he was cool? better than the other kids even? he went silent after that, a little too flustered to say anything, but didn't make a move to pull his hand out of your grasp as you led him to who knows where.

if only those times with you could've lasted longer

As time went on you became more distant with the people around you, especially when it came to the opposite sex. He knew what your reasons were, you had told him before you decided to cut all ties.

"My mom... doesn't like the idea of me hanging around with other people, especially boys for some reason. Ah, it's not that I don't like hanging out with you! but, I'm really sorry."

Despite this, that didn't stop his on growing obsession for you. From grade school all the way to high school, he was content knowing you were still in the same school as him. Even if he had to keep a good distance away as to not scare you off. How his fingers nails would dig deep into the wood of the outdoor table when he sees you all buddy, buddy with your friend group, and to no ones surprise, only consisted of girls.

Your mother really did engrave it in your brain, the 'all men are evil' kind of saying, annoyingly enough. The way your face would deflate whenever a guy would walk by a little too close to you. Seeing you fear other guys brought a strange feeling of delight and relief to him. The chances of you getting a boyfriend was beyond negative and non-existent.

Maybe your mother wasn't all that crazy and weird after all. It's true, had it been anyone else, any other guy, they were undeserving of your time and attention. Who knows how they would have treated you, but not him, because only he could treat you right.

You had befriended him first, and in return he will continue to watch over you, as the loving boyfriend you didn't know you had and needed.

So why.

Why did you leave?

"It's been a week since [y/n] transferred to that all girls school."

A week? he's surprised he hasn't spiraled yet into madness.

"Tsk, she thinks she's better than us that she can just up and leave like that?"

'Annoying wench, of course she's better than you, in fact, you're not even close to her league'

"Man, good thing I'm a guy, If I wasn't I'd probably be there too."

'ugh, nobody's forcing you, who the hell cares what—'

he nearly choked

eyes bloodshot when he scanned the room, his bedroom. Why was he here? shouldn't he be in school? Wait, you didn't attend the same school as him anymore, so what even was the point of going?

He layed there with his arm over his forehead, his eyes devoid of any light, the same ones that were present whenever you'd step into a room.

If only he could follow you, he would, but how? If only the world would bend down to his wants, and rules be damned when it came to you. He zoned out the knocking at his door, faintly hearing the jingling of keys when his sister stepped into the room.

"Really? getting all worked up because of some girl that you can't even bother with your attendance anymore?" Raiden Mei, better than being scolded by his mother atleast.

"You're trespassing." said in such a robotic and raspy voice, his glare was received unfazed by mei. "Relax, I've got today off so I decided to be the oh so kind sister that I am and do everyone's laundry. Unless you want to continue living like the hermit that you are under all this pile of trash." He didn't bother replying, and neither did mei want to continue the conversation further, so silence enveloped the room as she rummaged through the pile of clothes that were on the floor.

but something caught her eye, at the foot of the heep was a pretty [f/c] t-shirt that had obviously no business being there. "This-","Don't touch that!" the grip he had on her was inhumane, he hovered above her with a look that clearly said 'don't'. Despite the burning sensation on her wrist, there wasn't a single sign of discomfort shown, instead it was disgust.

"So not only are you a creep," Her eyes wandered to the many pictures of you he had on his wall, she tried to the best of her ability to ignore whenever entering his room, "you're a thief too." She jerked her hand out of his grasp, leaving the t-shirt alone before quickly finishing up collecting his dirty clothes.

"Mind your own damn business","if it would make you feel any better, mom thought you were gonna be a girl, atleast she hoped you would be."

she rested her hand on the doorknob, pausing for a moment, causing scaramouche to raise a brow. "and that's going to help me feel better, how?"

"maybe if she continued believing you were a girl, maybe you would have been, if that came to be then i guess you would have been able to follow her." His breath hitched, the cogs in his head finally starting to turn.

The door to his room was already closed when mei let out a sigh, 'Could have been blessed with a sister, but I've been cursed to have this gremlin for a brother' she'd be lying if she said she wasn't concerned, whether if it was for you or for him, that was none of her buisness.

"poor girl".

_

Back in his room, he was already plotting what he'd do next. The answer was so obvious, so easy for him to achieve, that he's wondering why he hasn't thought of it sooner.

"Being a girl, huh," it wasn't impossible for him to do, he already has feminine features, as he wasn't blessed with a muscular body. He knows how to do make-up, and it would probably be best if he wore a wig to add on to his girly appearance. He'd need to change his wardrobe too, he'll have to do a little bit of research on what girls usually wear depending on what occasion. He's not worried about changing his identity, he's had experience before when making fake accounts and id's. The transfer won't be a problem, he can use his mother's connections to get him in, quite the convenience. You probably already forgot about him, as much as it hurts to say, but it's for the best so you won't be able to recognise him.

He's already getting lightheaded at the idea, giggling to himself imagining all the things he could get away with. Visiting your room wouldn't be weird, sleepovers? he gets to sleep next to you? he's shaking at the idea. Maybe even borrow each other's things, make-up, clothes, food? If you saw him as a girl then you wouldn't have to be afraid of him. It wouldn't be weird if he got all touchy with you, I mean your friends do it all the time, right?

something was starting to rise between his legs, he cringed at the motion. He better keep that in check if he doesn't want his secret to be revealed once he gets close to you.

He's sighing dreamily, his hand going over the framed photo he has of you on his desk. It was the one his mother took when the both of you were still in grade school.

"My [y/n], my darling [y/n]." His gaze softened at the idea of finally being close to you, once again.

"Let's start over."

pt.2?

[myeagleexpert]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗 ( PT2 )

And if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? Howl's Moving Castle x Twisted Wonderland Au (Vil x Fem!Yuu) PS: This was written before Vil's new updates in the new chapters, I'm delving deeper into Vil's character and I know he's not just "a pretty boy" but for the direction of the story, he will have to follow this personality aspect a little more to this characteristic part of it. So I'm sorry if this isn't the most faithful fic to the character he is. I promise I will edit better, so that it has better quality.

Part1 You're here Next

"Bro, if you don't come soon I swear I'll get her alone!"- Ace stood with his arms crossed outside Heartslabyul's kitchen while Deuce carried a beautiful and tasty strawberry pie that Trey just made, the smell of pie woke up all the members of the dorm leaving them in a wonderful mood, if even the tyrannical Riddle smiled with that pie it would certainly work on Yuu too right?

"Don't rush me Ace! After all that stress yesterday the least we can do is apologize to Yuu."

"And you needed to give Trey more work and make him another pie so soon?"

"Well….er….With model students we must go beyond simple apologies!"- Suddenly, Deuce's jovial face turned red but he quickly remembered that shame should not stop him from apologizing to his friend.

"Come on! She's not even that mad!" raising his arms in resignation he continued “Okay, she is angry! But this happens almost every day, she is already used to it, and besides…” the nosy man put his finger in the gelatinous broth of the pie and licked his fingers. in such an unpretentious way “It’s not like she’s going to disappear out of nowhere and we won’t be able to say goodbye, she’s our friend.”

Deuce sighed heavily and finally agreed with his friend. Trapolla, with a genuine smile, began to remember some adventures they had already had and plan new adventures with Yuu and Grim would also love the antics. And hope filled their hearts. Planning after planning. After all, Yuu would always be with them, right?

“I'm grateful that you managed to get here as quickly as possible.” With a serious voice, the old crow thanked everyone present in the mirror room, from teachers to leaders and vice-leaders, some of Yuu's colleagues were also there.

"We know it's something important Crowley, we need to discuss this as soon as possible" - it was in the middle of breakfast that Riddle heard ADeuce's desperate screams, and when he turned up his nose thinking that the morning had already started badly he couldn't imagine it would get worse.

“So what do we know so far? I only heard loud noises all morning” - the lion grumbled

“The members of my dorm, Ace and Deuce, when they went to pick Yuu up for classes early in the morning, discovered that Yuu and Grim had mysteriously disappeared.”

“Have you looked for clues in the abandoned dormitory?”

“ That's the problem: the entire Ramsharckle Dorm is gone! Not even a piece of wood on the floor, no ghosts, just a mark on the floor where he used to stand” Trey replied and while he already felt anxiety in his heart, he knew that the first boys must be feeling it more. When the two arrived screaming like maniacs in the dorm asking them to follow Trey knew something was strange, due to the fact that his precious pie was dropped on the floor. Not even in an overblot had Deuce dropped a cupcake, but a pie on the floor must have been quite a problem.

“Oh, now that’s a problem.” putting his hand over his mouth Jade whispered discreetly in Azul's ear

“There are rumors all over the school. How could an ENTIRE dorm disappear out of nowhere? What about our protection field?” Leona had had his precious 9am post-sleep nap interrupted when conversations from all kinds of beastmen started to get very loud and his sensitive ears picked up some things.

“I heard that Yuu hasn't shown up to class yet. Did you take their notes?”

“The meteor shower was incredible yesterday! I took several photos and posted them on Magicam!”

“There is a horrible smell near the statues of the seven! A very strong smell of rotten eggs and vinegar!”

" You will not believe! You know that girl's dorm without magic? IT DISAPPEARED"

“Our protective field detected nothing, no changes.”

“What if the dorm is gone but Yuu and Grim are still somewhere in the school? Can Rook use his magic and try to look for them both?”

The hyena knew two things: Nothing disappears without a trace and that Yuu would do anything for her and Grim to survive. No wonder she survived 7 overblots. They are alive.

“Yes, Monsieur Dandelion” when reciting his unique magic, the hunter combined it with a magic from his wand so that everything he was seeing, others would also see with a projection of his magical range - an idea that came from Yuu.

i s e e y o u

Spell cast but no result, Rook searched every dormitory and every hidden corner of the school, the deserts of scarabia to the bottom of the waters of octaveinelle, in the royal school, in the noble school, in the cities they had visited before but nothing… for one good period of time….nothing.

“Je suis désolé, I didn’t find anything”

“Oh for the seven! How terrible! What do we do?" Crowley, oh so sad, exclaimed.

“Did they come home?"

“Did she run away?” “But what happened that made her run away so suddenly?”

Some voices whispered among themselves, others created more theories about what could have happened.

Malleus was in the corner of the room, absorbed by the shadows of the room, he could see how each person missed Yuu and Grim and how emotions were expressed on their faces, but Schoenheit's looked strange, it wasn't the same expression as sadness that Heartslabyul's dorm leader,it was Silver's expression when he was a child doing something wrong and Lillia caught him in the act… oh yes… guilt.

“Let’s split up, if the dogs just whine, it won’t help anything!” with authority determined to find the two, Crewel spoke out -“The two first year pups, Trey, Riddle, Blue, Rook and Jack go to the Ramsharckle to inspect for any clues in the dorm, any smell, footprint, anything.

Ruggie, Jamil, Jade and Carter, I need you to interrogate the students and find out how the rumors came about and if we have any useful information. Kalim and Epel, stay in this group too.

For the rest, check the library to see if there is any phenomenon linking last night to Ramscharkle's disappearance and calm down the dorms.”

“Any information must be said immediately. Stay calm, we will find them.” concluded Trey and they were soon dismissed

"Child of man, how did you know that Grim would precisely knock down that vase?" - prince in all his wisdom, asks Yuu who had just picked up a vase from the shelf exactly 5 seconds before the monster cat appeared out of nowhere and knocked in the exact location of the vessel.

"Intuition." Malleus's gaze asked for more information and so she graciously gave it “It's when we have the act of perceiving, discerning or sensing things, independently of reasoning or analysis to conclude something, you know? “ “Could this be a magic that only belongs to humans?”

“I don’t think so Tsunotaro” she laughed so cutely “So when you get a feeling about something, go ahead, there’s a good chance you’re right.”

Go ahead

His eyes narrowed and followed Vil's movements, who silently took another path from the research group.

Some things were discovered in each group:

1- The dormitory is completely gone, with all the members. 2-there is a very slight smell of Yuu in a single small section 3- Sam's friends saw Yuu just before the meteor shower started 4- Yuu was upset with some people (rumors) 5- All photos of the meteor shower are blurry 6- Absolutely nothing else

The students looked disappointedly at the paper list before handing it to Crowley, just some facts with few connections between them and no matter how much they looked for some magic or some phenomenon to explain what happened but the results of their efforts yielded nothing, just hearts. sad and heavy consciences and remained that way for a few days.

Until one day, the universe decided to smile at the boys again and especially at the manliest boy in Pomefiore who was pouting on his bed after being tugged on Vil's ear.

“Umnh…hello pewpaw?” “Hello my sweet! How are you?" his grandmother's voice calmed the lilac-haired boy for the first time in days “I’m fine grandma, things have been really complicated these days, but I’m trying hard to get stronger!” “Okay, grandma knows you’ve been having a rough day, so send an extra box of apple juice for you and your friends!” “Thank you, I’m sure they’ll love it-” “And Yuu, how is she?” my crush is missing in the middle of the world and we have no idea if anyone would say we will see her again, thank you “Well, she is… fine….but something happened that-” “Yesterday she said she wasn’t feeling very well, so I gave her that apple and lemon drink and wow! She looked really pretty!”

what WHAT?

“Yesterday grandma? What? Where?” genuinely confused and stunned even more so because Rook appeared out of nowhere next to him and silently asked to turn on the speakerphone on his cell phone. “I bumped into her in the village on Sage Island when we went to make some apple juice deliveries, I even thought you would be close to her with some friends! A pretty girl is not meant to walk alone!”

“How was she, grandma? Was she ok? Where did you see her exactly? “ Exasperated and anxious, the boy tried to control himself so as not to make it too obvious how worried he was! But Crowley, in all his old bird wisdom, ordered that no one should speak of this matter outside of the NRC people.

“She was in front of a store when we bumped into each other, I don't remember the name of the store because some were already closing. I don’t know why but she feels different”

“Like what grandma?” “Like…. magical…. but isn’t she the girl without magic who studies with you?” “Yes, yes… And!… ah… How was she d-different?" - increasingly anxious he had no idea what to think and what to ask without shouting that she was missing “I didn’t see him… um…. She likes it differently, I don’t remember what”

Rook thought of a strategy while Epel pulled out his hair, the hunter wrote on a piece of paper he took from the desk the most direct questions about what everyone wanted to know!

“Grim.was. with. her.? “I didn’t see him… um…. She looked different, I don’t remember what but it was the only thing I remember.”

“Did.she.tell.where.she.was going?” Rook's handwriting looked like a drunken French monarch writing, so give Epel credit for reading that riddle while he was trying not to pass out

“If she said, I don’t remember, she had some bags in her hand and that she had to run because she was in a hurry.” “Hurry.to.what?Hurry.to.where?”

“I don’t know Epel! I don't go around meddling in people's lives! Why are you so interested in her life? It’s like you don’t see her every day at school!”

“Sorry.dear.grandma.I’m curious.ha.ha”

“Anyway, do you know what happened here? Your uncle—-” the dear, sweet old lady couldn't finish the day's gossip because Epel had nervously hung up and ran off to send messages to the first-year students while running like crazy to Crowley's office.

Rook celebrated the victory and elegantly told the evil queen the news. Meanwhile, Lady Pewpeaw looked in the mirror and thought: I already know! She changed her hair! Or is it the hair that changes people? She looked very chic and elegant. Ahh, I hope my grandson Epel can win the heart of that beautiful girl!

As Epel ran with all the strength his legs could carry, which was a lot now that he was in the Spelldrive club, he sent messages to the other first-year students excited about the possibility of Yuu being found and a certain hunter was able to smile knowing that he would have fresh news to tell the evil Queen.

After a brief meeting between the first-year students and briefly with the leaders, Crowley allowed them to investigate possible clues. The boys searched every alley and store with their hearts burning with hope, Deuce was ready to hug her while Ace was preparing a lecture on why she disappeared out of nowhere leaving them all distressed. Jack concentrated as he remembered Yuu's familiar smell, the smell so different from the bunch of men in NRC, the smell that was unique to her. Epel was looking for the address that her grandmother had given her, always looking at the clock and the port, if she could only stay until sunset, that means she would have to leave before dark.

----- The sun finally set, giving way to the moon that illuminated the boys' journey back to school. The hopeful young hearts returned broken, hopeless, shattered, and without any trace of Yuu. Each one informed their dorm leader, Leona just turned her back and tried to sleep knowing that no matter how much she closed her eyes she wouldn't have rest until she found Yuu, Riddle for the first time didn't finish the strawberry pie, and Vil…. Vil was different. Vil was “strangely strange”, when even after receiving the news about Yuu's case he couldn't sleep properly, even with a beauty campaign that was going to make his skin wasn't radiant and a pimple appeared on the corner of his chin.

“The Campaign is tomorrow. How can I let such futile emotions ruin my skin just for tomorrow”? – the poisonous king thought as he touched up his makeup looking at a small hand mirror, taking care that his facial features didn't show the makeup.

“I can't believe we didn't achieve anything Jack!” Vil heard some voices in the hallway.

“It was a good attempt Epel. One time or another we will find an answer.”

“But…but we were so so close! I went to the exact store my pewpaw said but no clue!Damn! When the fuck we gonna have a track like this?!” maybe at another time Vil would fight with Epel for letting his accent come out rougher but the conversation was getting to the queen's delicate nerves

“In Tiana’s Palace there was only the smell of food, nothing of Grim or Yuu. I’m sorry Epel.” Vil might not have seen it, but he could have sworn Jack was rubbing his neck and looking down, probably feeling guilty about for not having found the prefect.

Is he to blame, Vil?

A voice called from the mirror and Vil was so scared that he dropped his mirror on the floor, breaking it into pieces, and he could no longer hear the gossip. But that wasn't the worst, my friends. The worst was right in front of the young prodigy's face. A wrinkle in the middle of the forehead.

“In the name of Gucci this can’t be happening!”

Is he to blame, Vil?

If he hadn't been so worried about his precious skin, he would have noticed a small bat watching him in a corner of the bathroom. Quickly composing himself, he headed to the Film Club at the appointed time.

The moon was shining in the sky and all Vil could think about was the last moments he spent with Yuu, if he said sorry, would she come back? No no, he's not the problem! This is pure coincidence! He turned over the bed and looked for his beauty sleep, but only found guilt and loneliness.

“Maybe a walk will help relax my nerves?” - he put a comfortable jacket over it before opening the door

It was supposed to be just a walk, through the hall of Pomefiore's grand corridors But Vil's desperation led him to the port of Sage's Island with his broom, looking for one last hope of finding Yuu. After all, to get a proper beauty sleep he had to solve the problem of his insomnia first. Some stores were still open, parties, nightclubs, a small village but so bright! With people laughing and talking, how lovely. Every person who recognized the celebrity asked for a photo and an autograph and the question he wanted to ask everyone died in his mouth. """Have you seen this person recently?"""

Putting his acting skills to good use, he put on his best face that didn't show how terribly guilty he felt and lost in his thoughts he entered the dorm, maybe the Film Club had something that could distract him, spend some time energy and quality sleep, maybe some sleeping pills… something…. the bedroom is not the best time right now, not when he can't sleep. And here he is, in the pit of frustrations. In the place where that day happened.

“The weather is pleasant tonight, wouldn’t you agree, Schoith?” Malleus's cordial voice cut through his train of thoughts, like the brakes on a speeding train. He had just entered the club, then closed the door. The atmosphere was strange, like sticking your hand in a hornet's nest with sleeping bees. What was the great one doing here?

“Greetings, Draconia. I thought I locked the door, the club is closed now. As you can see around, everything is a mess. ”- Vil gestured his arms indicating the mess that the studio was around, with open boxes and disheveled wigs, it seems that the students who remained there after he left did not clean up the mess, much to Vil's annoyance.

“What a vulgar club this is. With such vulgar fantasies.” Malleus's repetitive voice was like a poison, the atmosphere was no longer “strange”, it was cold and heavy, the heir of the Valley of Thorns did not hesitate to hide the contempt and hatred mixed in his words “And you are the most vulgar thing from here."

The bees woke up.

“Yes, it’s messy! A few rotten potatoes didn't clean up the mess, they'll see about it tomorrow! It's none of your business.” Angry, the bees buzzed away, leaving the environment more agitated and hostile. No matter how much Vil tried to remain classy, his eyebrows showed his indignation and his fists were ready to attack.

Malleus approached, circling the leader of the Pomefiore domain, like a predator and his prey. The prince's eyes shone a bright shade of green and his pupils became increasingly thinner. Through the window, some thunder and lightning ripped through the sky, revealing Malleus' internal storm.

“I heard that there will be an important campaign tomorrow. Surely, you don't go that way, do you? Please don’t ruin the Queen��s reputation, after all, how do you want to continue her legacy if you have broken nails like any commoner?” looking directly at Vil's closed fists, Malleus smiled with disdain and a slight satisfaction seeing the oh so beautiful Vil shaking with anger.

“How dare Malleus? I don't know what you're doing here but leave immediately!” - furious, the leader of Pomefiore took a step forward and pointed to the door, his face red and with some blonde locks falling from his hairstyle irritating him even more. He dripped snake venom into every word he said, but when has a dragon died from snake venom?

“It is very bold to challenge the Prince of the Valley of Thorns, Schothein.” Stepping forward and coming directly face to face with Vil, he laughed elegantly with mischief in every note- "Don't worry, I won't spend any more time with you, I'll just hand you a gift."

With all the doors and windows closed, Malleus raises his hand and a green smoke with sharp thorns invades the Film Club, and with a simple look thorns wrap around Schoith bringing him close and totally paralyzed, the heir's malicious laugh grows ever louder. But before he recites a macabre ancient magic, in a language that not even Vil himself understood, Malleus's power was clear, shining in an electric green, with his scepter firing across the entire environment. When he finished his rush, Malleus passed his cloak over Vil's body, which was still frozen on the ground.

“You won't be able to talk to anyone about your curse. Send my regards to Yuu.” That said, he just left the club with a Machiavellian glint in his eyes.

As soon as the door closed, Vil managed to release the air he didn't know he was holding, the smoke and thorns were breaking apart and erasing the tracks as if they had never happened. When trying to get up, Vil realized how weak his beautiful and athletic body was but it was when his knee creaked that even standing up he was paralyzed. He looked at his shaking hands, recognizing the familiar hands with veins and wrinkles looking like an old, colorless raisin.

“No…no…not again!”

He ran to the mirror of a nearby dressing room, and his ugliness was so great that he broke the mirror. A fairy's gift is a dubious thing, but coming from Malleus, Vil can confirm his greatest fears in the mirror: He was old and magicless.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

Want to see more? See the masterlist <3

[heartshapeboxesblog]

⭐𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 D𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⭐

A quick heads-up‼ : Reader was/is adopted by Wally (and by adopted I mean found you alone in a forest close to Home and took you to the neighborhood)

☆: Reader is gender-neutral

☆: Mentions of Wally being overprotective & mentioning of abandonment! If you're not comfortable with that please don't read!

●: I'd like to imagine that he was "woken up" by one of his neighbors telling him that strange crying sounds were coming from the woods.

●: Of course, like any good neighbor, he told them he would check on it.

●: And was, fairly surprised to find a human child. I mean, honestly, who would be so cruel as to leave their offspring, at the very least alone, in the woods!? Don't they know how dangerous that is?

●: No biggie though! Wally & the rest of his neighbors would be happy to have you in addition to the neighborhood!

●: But first things first they need to figure out how to take care of a human child. (They heard you can be quite fragile)

☆-- -- - Actual headcannons now - -- --☆

🎨: This silly man has not the slightest of clues on how to raise a child, especially a human one.

🎨: Don't worry though! I'm sure Poppy will help him learn! She is the only mother figure he knows..but still! He'll do his absolute best to raise you!

🎨: I think that he would never ever yell at you. (Slightly because he doesn't have the lung compasity) I mean, what kind of father figure would he be if he got mad at you for one little mistake?

🎨: whould he be scared if you got hurt? He trys not to show it too much,but on the inside he's very panicked. But you can't really blame him, for goodness sake when you skinned your knee he immediately ran to Howdy's for help! How would he know what to do if it did get infected?

🎨:He would be extremely supportive of you ( with doing anything really. Most if you choose to come out to him. Imagine if he was the first person(puppet) you came out to!)

🎨: I can't say he would be as helpful when it came to homework. (It's canon that he doesn't know all too much about school-work)

🎨 : But ! Besides all that other stuff, he would be a great father figure! He just needs to get a little used to your human affects!

🎨: Can he sometimes be a tiny bit too overprotective when you say you want to go out or hang out with your so called friends? Just a little. But only because he cares so much! ! He's only looking out for you.

🎨: Anyways. He would have changed your last name to Darling, but ended up asking Barnaby if it was too confusing for everyone. They might be confused on your (in no way negative) odd looks.

🎨: ^ But that or not he's so lucky he found you and brought you Home! Now you can grow up to be a absolutely wonderful person! (Just like him.)

[twigg96]

Strangers like me

Daryl X Reader, Merle & Reader, Dixon Brothers

Era: PreQuarry, Quarry, Woodburry, Prison

POV: Merle's on yours and Daryl's relationship

Pronouns: They/Them. You/ [Y/N]

Summary: When Daryl and Merle find you starving in one of the houses they raid, Merle is more than willing to leave you there to die. But Daryl jumps to your rescue. Feeding you and restoring you back to health. Merle is certain that once you're better you'd leave them alone... but instead you just seemed to stick around. And Daryl seemed to cling to you in this weird way he'd never seen his brother do with anyone else before... intrigued and a little worried for his brother's safety (though he'd never say it out loud) Merle starts to pay a little more attention to the relationship brewing between you and Daryl. That is until the Sheriff arrives and everything goes to hell in a hand basket.

From the very first day you met Daryl, found starving inside one of the many abandoned houses that Merle and he searched and raided before they settled down at the Quarry, you both had been connected at the hip. Merle had thought it strange at first. Just a cute little crush for his younger brother to entertain while the world went to shit around them. A cute crush that could potentially become quite the fucking problem if you ever got in the way of their survival. "C'mon baby bro..." Merle growled one particularly rainy day when he finally had a chance to get Daryl alone. "Don't cha see they're just usin' ya?" Merle drawled a snake like grin crossing his face as Daryl shot him an uncertain and self conscious glance. But as the little stow away stumbled through the thick brush, proudly holding up a long string of fish they must have noodled out of the nearby crick, Merle watched Daryls eyes gleam and pride radiate from his very body. "Usin' me huh?" Daryl teased walking over to you, helping you wipe the mud and grime from your face in the most gentle way his brother had ever seen.

As the shit hit the fan and the largest herd of walkers the group of three had yet to see approached from seemingly all sides, Merle was certain you were going to die. That you'd be too slow to keep up. That you'd loose your balance or your weak ankles would give out. What worried Merle most was that if you did happen to trip, happen to get hurt. His moron of a brother would risk his own life again to save you. But you were faster than he expected you would be and even though you had complained before of your weak ankles swelling, a part of you Daryl had no problem touching and massaging on a normal day. Another mystery to the eldest Dixon. You seemed to be Leading the charge far in front of both men, pointing and leading them through the woods. Only for a moment did Merle think to be suspicious of your sudden athletic prowess. But it was only for a moment before you reached out and pulled Merle back from tripping over the root of a tree that would have sent him to his death over the edge of a nearby cliff. Feeling the warm squeeze of your hand in his Merle realized that even after you had safely navigated him away from the ledge you were still holding tight to his wrist, a worried look to your face and hot tears staining your cheeks. "Y-you gotta keep up old man!" You finally called back, stifling a sob he knew would have wracked you and slowed you down... Well damn. Merle followed you into a well abandonded cabin deep in the woods, one that he could tell just by lookin at it was a distillery at one point in it's life. Shoving what little furniture the cabin had up against the windows and doors the trio waited with baited breath as the herd pushed past, begging that none of them would tear through the thin walls in the night while you rested.

"Alrigh'..." Merle grumbled tossing his pack in the corner, glaring at the way his brother was doting on you, letting you lean on him for support to catch your breath. Your hand rested softly on his chest and if Merle had been a dumb man, which he fuckin wasn't. He would have missed the way you intertwined your fingers with Daryl's other hand. "Tell me." Merle growled sitting across from the two who seemingly scrambled to get away from one another in order to avoid getting caught. "Don't know wha-" Daryl tried to bullshit him but Merle could see right through his brother. "Ah! Don't try that shit." Merle growled growing more and more agitated by the minute. Agitated that the two of them thought they could just sneak around him with out him finding out. Agitated that his brother thought he was some kinda fool and couldn't figure it out on his own. But, most of all, agitated that Daryl hadn't trusted him with the truth earlier. "How long have ya known each other?" Merle hissed, gesturing between the two blushing kids. And god they really did look like kids to him now. Despite being covered in mud, walker bits and blood, they both looked so... damned young. "Well..." Merle huffed when he received nothing but silence from either his brother or you in return. "I already told ya." Daryl tried to lie once more, not daring to meet his eyes. "We just met the other day... you were there." You nodded your head a little too enthusiastically to try and convince Merle... something that didn't sit right with the older Dixon. "Bull shit." Merle huffed shaking his head. "There's somethin' more goin' on between you two..." Merle muttered jabbing a finger at his brother's chest then yours. "You two have been all buddy buddy since we picked the runt up." Merle stated watching carefully as you seemed to pull away from the crassness of his voice and Daryl... well if Daryl realized he was doing it Merle had no idea but he had shifted his body slightly to place himself between his brother and you, a deep scowl plastered on his face. "Don't you dare call them names... they just saved yer hide." Daryl hissed defensively. And there it was. Love. Merle sighed shaking his head a small smirk gracing his lips. But, who was he to make them realize what it was called before either of them said it out loud? Instead Merle slapped his knee. "Ah... shit. Thought I recognized 'em from before... must just be tired." Merle sighed, standing with a low groan to go set up his corner of the cabin.

After that long night, Merle kept a closer eye on you two from the shadows. He didn't distrust you as much anymore you were always quick to have not only Daryl’s back but his own and Merle warmed up to you coming to see you as more of a family member and less as of a threat. But that didn't mean that you got to just do whatever you wanted to his little brother in the middle of the apocalypse without someone watching your dumbass backs. Most of the time what Merle observed was tame. A small brush of the hands while you two walked further ahead than him. A bump of the shoulders while they were sitting alone by the fire. When they finally arrived at the Quarry, the three of them kept mostly to themselves finding the small group's leader that took them in suffocating and a hard ass. Shane, the wannabe jughead, was insufferable on a good day. He harassed you on a near constant basis when his own makeshift piece of ass wasn't around to keep him on his toes. "What're ya doing hanging around these fuckin' hicks?" He asked you one day while you were busy skinning the rabbits you had caught. A glare was all you graced him with before he plopped down on the log beside you. "There's more than enough room for you to bunk down next to us ya know... next to me." The perverted ex-cop cooed leaning closer to you. But, much to Merle's glee and entertainment, you looked completely appalled and disinterested. Flipping the man off you shoved the bloody skinned rabbit into his arms. "There... dinner for the young ones." You growled, walking down to the water's edge to wash off.

But, the bastard didn't give up easily. Even once the others in the camp had started to put two and two together that you might... maybe... possibly be in an intimate relationship with the youngest of the Dixon boys and were officially off limits Shane persisted. Merle watched you carefully on the days that the two lovebirds at the camp drank too much and tore into each other. It happened more often than Merle ever felt comfortable with and always ended with a very drunken Shane attempting to shove a wedge into whatever relationship was forming between you and Daryl. But Merle knew his baby brother... his self confidence was in the gutter. And so when another young buck entered his territory, Daryl tended to run and hide or duck his head. "Tell me something." Shane slurred one night, nearly sitting on Daryl's lap in order to slide between you and him. If you hadn't begged Merle to leave well enough alone earlier in the day when the arguing startled the deer the three of you had been hunting all day, he might have put the man out of his misery then and there. "Why do you go out and do all this men's work?" Shane asked drunkenly slurring his words, waving around his half empty beer bottle towards your bow and Daryl's crossbow. "You'd be much better off if you just stayed here with the women and... ya know did women work." Merle had stifle the laugh that bubbled up in his throat watching the way your face morphed from confused disgust to pure astonished hatred. "Ex-fucking-scuse me?!" You hissed. And lordy above if looks could kill Shane would have been fuckin' toast. If not only from the searing glare you sent his way but the absolute daggers Daryl was piercing into the back of Shane's skull at the sheer audacity this man had. But... it seemed that on this night Shane just wanted to test his luck with you. "Yeah... I mean." Shane grabbed your wrist flipping your hand over to look at the palm of your hand. "No one as beautiful as you deserves to have calluses this thick. Besides... you're too delicate for anything more than washing clothes." Oh yeah... that did it. Merle chuckled as you stood and brought the very hand Shane had been holding across his face. "Don't you ever touch me you prick!" You hissed. But something about the way Shane's demeanor didn't set right with Merle... He was too still. He just stared off into space. A look Merle was far too familiar with having served in the military and time in prison. It was a dangerous distant look. But before Shane could act on whatever was brewing in his mind, you stormed off into darkness of the woods, Daryl hot on your tail.

The argument that followed could be heard for a good half mile. "I said leave me the hell alone Daryl!" Merle heard you yell, frustrated and sobbing from within the trees. Merle heard his brother mutter something vaguely sad and soft. It was your first real fight so if he had to guess Daryl was asking what was wrong, or what he could do to help... the poor bastard. "You think they'll be ok?" Dale, the group's resident crazy elderly man asked Merle softly. The older Dixon shrugged, pulling the flashlight from his backpack with an annoyed sigh. "It's not [Y/N] I'm worried about." He muttered lowly, standing with a pained groan. "Fine you wanna talk so bad let's fuckin' talk!" Your scream could be heard all across the Quarry and Merle knew... Daryl was in fuckin' trouble. "I better go get his dumb ass before they kill each other." Merle sighed rolling his eyes. Merle tracked his brother and wannabe in-law down and reminding them that the walkers still existed and were dangerous even when they were pissed off at each other. You insisted that maybe... you should just sleep in Dale's RV for a while. With that said and tears rolling down your cheeks you stormed off back towards the camp. Merle watched you go for a moment before turning to his brother who for all intents and purposes was completely distraught. Daryl paced back and forth growling nonsense, punching the bark off of tree trunks, and grasping at the short hair on his head. "What the fuck?!" Daryl whined, kicking a dead tree down. Merle would have quipped back with something nasty and hurtful. He certainly wanted to... But he figured that maybe this time he should just keep his fuckin' trap shut and try listening this time. "They told me they needed space... so I walked a little slower to give 'em space. They got pissed when I asked what I asked what I could do then told me I didn't do shit so why even ask that. And now they want to sleep in the camper with Dale?!" Daryl growled huffing and plopping down the freshly made tree stump. Merle couldn't help but to laugh at his little brother rolling his eyes at Daryl's nonissue. "Wha' you fuckin' laughing at?!" Daryl hissed standing to get in Merle's face. "Got two bits of advice fer ya little brother." Merle murmured, a cocky smirk plastered across his face. "First... don't ever talk ta yer partner when they tell ya to fuck off. No matter how mad they are or what started it. Just let them be mad fer a bit..." Daryl stared at Merle like he grew a second head. "But I was jus' worried about walkers." Daryl muttered, shuffling his feet. Merle rolled his eyes. "That's the second tip little brother... grow a pair of balls." Merle teased, grabbing his own crotch for emphasis. "You say to me you were just worried about walkers but that's bull shit... you were trying to smooth things over because you know you fucked up by letting Deputy Dickface harass and touch your partner whenever he feels like it... that's why they want to sleep in Dale's camper. Not because their especially pissed at you little bro... but you won't do anything to Shane so they don't feel safe if he were to try something." Daryl flapped his gums for a moment but Merle was already headed back to camp. "Just something to chew on little bro..."

Over the next few days Merle watched you and Daryl slowly make up in the solace of the woods. If he actually gave a shit he'd say it was cute... Daryl did his very best for you. He gave you a portion of his meal every time you all ate despite your protests. He taught you how to cock and shoot his cross bow properly. Merle thought it was cute funny that you tried your damnedest to ignore the way Daryl's body pressed into your back, his left hand pressed to your tummy, explaining that if you took deep enough breaths through your stomach your aim would be less shaky. He almosted missed the way that his little brother's right hand was so gently caressing you to help you position your arms closer to your body and that his breath was tickling the back of your neck as he almost whispered the encouragement into your ear as you pulled the trigger and shot your first deer with the new weapon. But the crushing hug he gave you afterwards, the little twirl and small, “You fuckin’ did it sunshine!” That. That was not a memory neither you or Merle were willing to ignore or push away any time soon. Even though he'd never say it out loud, Merle was damned proud of the his little brother. Especially the next time Deputy Dog came sniffing around. Daryl was by your side in an instant despite having been at the other side of the camp when the ex-cop first approached you. "Heard you were takin' a break from the hicks fer a while..." Shane hummed moving his hand to brush back a piece of your hair that had fallen into your face. "The only thing they'll be breakin' is yer nose if ya don't leave them alone." Daryl growled, walking around the two of you to take your waist, pulling you close to him. Unbeknownst to you at the time. You were teaching the youngest Dixon as well. You taught him the patience to listen even when all he wanted to do was run off in a confused huff or get moody. Merle watched on a little amused as you taught Daryl to fish using only your hand, a gleam of desire shining in his little brother's eyes as he watched you rolling around in the mud bear wrestling a giant catfish to land. You taught Daryl compassion. Something that some what weirded Merle out as the two of you approached Dale and Glenn one day offering to help out at the camper.

The worst day of Merle's life thus far came the day the Sheriff arrived. He was certain that as he sat handcuffed on the roof he was going to die. Even as he sawed his own hand from his arm he was sure he was going to die. But the one thought in his mind remained the same. He had to live to make it to see his little brother again. Even if it were just a glimpse. Even if he just got to know he was ok. Days of mending his wounded stump within the confines of Atlanta turned into weeks of wondering the backroads of Gorgia as he finally made his way back to their campsite. Eating and sleeping from dumpster to dumpster became a regular occurrence and then a necessity as Merle crashed hard detoxing from his array of vices he kept in his bike's side satchel. When Merle finally made it to the campsite, only to find rows and rows of mass graves burried there, the cars, his bike, and the camper gone. Merle had never known that level of loss in his life. Not even in the midst of war did Merle feel so much pain, digging on his knees with his only good hand into the shallow graves praying for the first time in his life that he wouldn't find the faces of his little brother or his brother's lover. But when they all came up as members of their makeshift community, people he hardly knew due to his isolation, Merle wept for the first time in a long time.

Years passed. Merle was "saved" from a life off drifting by the Governor. The Governor's men had found him, starving, nearly waisted away along the side of the road one evening. They had originally tried to kill him, seeing him as a parasite within the bounds of their territory. But time after time, group after group, Merle beat them. He was either able to evade them into the shadows and tight spaces of some abandoned building, going deep withing the walker infested parts of the cities the scouts weren't willing to go. Or he killed each and every one of the bastards that cornered him. But eventually... Merle grew tired and relented. The life he knew in Woodbury was not lavish nor grand by any sense of the word. Merle was a lacky used for his strength and military training... he was used to entertain the residents of Woodbury and keep the other lackies and prisoners in check. It was his job and for a while at least... he was good at it. Why wouldn't he be? It kept food in his belly and enough booze in his system to keep him numb to the horrific things he had to do to keep his position. But to say Merle was simply taking what was given to him was a drastic understatement. No... He may have been a hard headed moron on a good day, but Merle had a plan. One that involved taking the governor down and taking him for all he was worth in the process. Unfortunately for him, he tended to run his big mouth when he was drunk. A habit he was warned would kill him one day... But, Merle wasn't in the business of listening to his little brother's dumb advice especially when he was certain he was dead. Had to be after all the time that had passed between them. So instead when he missed him... he talked about him to the only people who listened... the governor and his lackies.

When Merle found the little Korean squirt loading up baby supplies into that car, he nearly shit himself. If that twerp was still alive, you and Daryl had to be... right? He knew it was impulsive. He knew the target was the samurai. But if he lost track of the twerp now... he could loose you and Daryl forever and that just wasn't a risk Merle was willing to take. He lied to the governor told him he killed the samurai but everything was lost in the blast... a bold lie for sure but a strong one when he held a single lock of hair. The governor seemingly believed him for the mean time and even offered to help interview the girl. An offer Merle should have known better than to accept. But emotions were already high and his judgement had been clouded. However... Merle did not expect Glenn to have such a steel trap. The boy took blow after blow, ribs cracking, nose breaking, blood spilling all in the name of protecting the ones he loved and cherished. Merle tried like Hell to get him to understand. "I just need ta know where Daryl and his partner are... I'll let ya and yer lady friend go if ya just tell me already!" Merle growled finally pushed to the breaking point when Glenn spit all over him. Of course Merle knew he went too far after he threw the walker into the room with Glenn. He was just so confused and frustrated that Glenn was so loyal... Maybe the girl would be easier to break. But what he found in her cell, the governor standing behind her half naked frame with her pinned to the table sent him from frustrated to furious in an instant. If it weren't for the nagging part of his brain reminding him there was something he truly needed at the end of all of this... Merle might have gone rouge then and there. "Hey..." Merle finally got out, straining his voice to hide any emotion. "They... They need ya up top." Merle lied. This time not caring about the repercussions of this particular lie. Merle waited outside watching as the governor passed him by before walking into the room they kept Glenn in. The boy was bloodied, bruised and beaten. He had broken the wooden chair he was taped to in order to kill the walker but by god he survived. Maybe the punk had more moxie than Merle gave him credit for... Without giving the kid a chance to run, Merle grabbed him by the arm, escorting him into the next room where his girl sat covering herself. A wave of hot shame and posionous guilt washed over Merle as he shoved Glenn into the room. His only thought being... What if someone somewhere was doing this to you and Daryl... If he was willing to go this far... how far would someone else go? Tossing his vest at Glenn's girl he looked away, hoping that maybe if he was lucky he'd see his little brother again one day.

When the shooting started and the alarm was raised that prisoners were loose in the city of Woodbury, Merle knew Glenn's people had come to save them. Despite the impressive show he made of firing into the smoke, Merle did his best to miss the figures that crept and ran around. If you or Daryl were in fact amongst one of the few to be there, the last thing he wanted to do was accidently hit either of you. Instead his aim was at the Woodbury residents who dared aim a gun at the fleeing trespassers. God did he pay for it once everything calmed down... the Governor's daughter a walker he kept trapped and locked away was slaughtered during the fight and the Governor wanted blood. Placing Merle in the middle of the fighting ring, a position he wasn't unfamiliar with by this point in his career and life, Merle mentally and physically prepared himself. He expected the Walkers to be released on him. He expected to be whipped and possibly publicly shamed. What he didn't expect... was Daryl. His baby brother chained, beaten, battered, bruised, and whipped being drug into the arena with him. Worse than that, the very second he moved to step towards him, the Governor issued the very rules Merle prayed wouldn't be said in the arena. "To the death..." And so Merle did as ordered. He fought like it was his last breath. Using the governor's waning trust in him, Merle took the first blow sending an unsuspecting Daryl stumbling back. "Merle please." The words killed him as Merle stood over Daryl. But the eldest Dixon had a plan... he always did. Before he knew it snipers from the buildings above were firing down on the walkers and crowd making room for the rush of the crowd that rushed in, slaughtering whoever they had too to free Daryl.

Merle followed the group out, whether they wanted them too or not, Daryl refused to let them touch him. Despite it all Daryl was still loyal to his brother. But the group felt differently... and why wouldn't they? Merle knew he had done unspeakable acts against them... but he didn't ask to have them shoved in his face every two seconds. When enough was enough he and Daryl stormed off. Something they were good at. "Come on baby brother, your better off without them." Merle muttered, trying his damnedest to cheer his little brother up. But it all ended up just blowing up in his face... "We gotta go back to the prison. I need to go back..." Daryl muttered, more like a chant as he lead them deeper into the woods. "The prison? Why the hell do ya wanna go back there?" Merle asked, struggling to keep up with Daryl's determined stride. "Loyalty. Don't know if ya know anythin' about it... and I gotta... They need me." Daryl growled, glaring at his older brother as they ducked under branches. "I know more about loyalty than you ever will!" Merle had yelled. "Maybe you would if you had been there once fer me!" Daryl had screamed back. Merle huffed shaking his head. "Bull shit little brother. This ain't about loyalty. This is about somethin' else..." Merle mumbled trying to read the expression on his brother's face. "Whatever... this was a bad fuckin' idea." Daryl growled. Merle grabbed the back of Daryl's shirt when he tried to walk back to the road without him a familiar feeling of fear and abandonment washing over him as he did. The scars on Daryl's back were horrendous. And Merle knew exactly where they came from. "I-I'm so sorry... I-I never knew..." Merle tried to explain but Daryl was having none of it. "No... You did it's why you left... but it never stopped when you did." Merle couldn't help the pained laugh that escaped his lips. Daryl wasn't wrong. He was reading him like a book... when did he learn to do that? The two walked in silence for a while. Daryl tried like hell to get Merle to come back to the prison with him. But Merle knew deep down he never could. The people there would kill him. It was simple. When the baby's wail pierced the air and Daryl looked panicked, jumping into action without a moments hesitation. Something clicked. "They still alive?" Merle asked after Daryl finally handed the tiny baby back to it's family with a pained look to his face. "Huh? Yeah... Wha' cha mean by that?" Daryl asked, gesturing to the whimpering newborn wriggling in it's mother's arms as they all ran down the highway. "Not the baby, Daryl." Merle sighed. Daryl cocked a confused brow and craned his head. "[Y/N]? Yeah... They're still alive." Daryl huffed when he finally caught on to what Merle was asking. Pushing past his older brother Merle sighed. "You tell them yet?" Merle muttered, following Daryl off of the bridge. "Tell them what?" Daryl asked rolling his eyes at his brother's sudden interest in playing twenty questions. "That ya love 'em." Merle murmured. Watching as Daryl slowed to a stop, Merle hoped for a small second that his little brother would tell him off and send him packing. But instead for the first time since they reunited, Daryl looked like what he remembered him to be. Timid. Shy. And a little embarrassed. But still, the little shit nodded. "Ya want ta come see them?" Daryl asked softly, gesturing with his head in the direction he wanted to go. "They miss ya somethin' fierce."

Before this point... Merle had believed anxiety to be a myth. Something people made up to whine about or get out of work. But as he marched his way to the prison gates with Daryl by his side, Merle suddenly felt very small. It was a good thing that he had something to do when they first arrived... kill all the walkers they could to get in... but once they were done and the dust had settled, Merle was very aware of how many eyes were staring him down. Whispers of "What is he doing here?" and "Why did Daryl bring him back?" resonated deep within his soul. But one voice stood out above the rest. "Daryl?!" Your voice and the sound of your approaching footsteps as you sprinted to find him echoed from inside the prison walls. As you stepped into the greens of the courtyard Merle stood stalk still completely stunned. You looked stunning, your hair grown longer, your skin a little tanner than he remembered, and most shockingly of all... a little tike rested on your hip. The toddler clung to your shirt and buried into your heaving collar bone as you fought to catch your breath. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you ran to Daryl, who met you without hesitation halfway into the courtyard. "W-When you didn't come back-" You sobbed kissing Daryl's jaw before burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's ok... I just had to take a little detour." Daryl whispered taking the little one from you and kissing their face, blowing raspberries on their cheek for good measure. The tike giggle and squealed in Daryl's arms pushing his head away from their own. "Daddy stop!" They squealed. Daddy? Merle blinked rubbing his eyes with his good hand. He didn't think he was gone that long... "Merle?" Your voice called out as he looked back up at his little, growing, family. "The one and only." Merle gleamed grinning from ear to ear as you wrapped your arms around his middle. "I'm so happy you're ok..." Your tone was happy and soft but turned as dark and piercing as the glare you shot up at Merle. "Merle Dixon... you know I respect you as Daryl's brother... and you know that I owe you and your brother my life... but, you really hurt Daryl with the actions you took in your past... now you have a chance to make them right. If you don't... or if you ever hurt Daryl with another dumbass mistake that makes you get lost or separated from us again. Know I'm going to be personally searching for you to beat your ass until you apologize." Merle tried to take you seriously... he really did. But as your voice grew thick and the tears from earlier began to flow Merle just couldn't find it in himself to even attempt to look scared of you. Instead the eldest Dixon pulled you close letting you rest your head against his chest to sob. "You idiot... You absolute fucking idiot." You sobbed.

Late that night Merle stared up at the stars from the sanctuary of the prison grounds. The groans of the dean did nothing to bother him much any more. The sound of approaching footsteps however put him on edge and forced him to turn to face his potential attackers. But, it was just Daryl, coming to sit beside him in the wet grass of the night. "Hey." Daryl muttered. "Hey..." Merle whispered back looking back at the door to see if you had followed him out. "[Y/N] not coming out?" He asked softly. Daryl chuckled and shook his head. "Nah... she just got Sapphire down for the night." Daryl murmured, rolling his eyes with a laugh as he caught his brother's judgmental stare. "Look we didn't name 'er that... She knew 'er name when we found 'er and we couldn't bare to change it when it was the last thing she had of her real parents." Daryl said softly. Merle hummed in recognition. "Ya got a cute kid..." Daryl nodded, rubbing his arm. "Thanks. Try ta do right by her, ya know..." Daryl muttered and Merle completely understood because he always had and always would try and do right by his family... Even if it killed him.

[xxventiswindblumexx]

Made this smut and almost forgot to finish it! I finally finished it and I'm excited to show my Smut SoulMate @hitomisuzuya ✨❤

⚠Warnings⚠:Degrading, slight praise, yandere themes, possessiveness.

The Wanderer was a mysterious man, nobody knew where he came from or who he really was however he had a charm to him that no one has been able to replicate.

Of course you've asked the traveller about him because being the curious person you are you had to see if he somehow knew something, all he said was that his real name was 'Kuni' and nothing else. Strange but it's better then calling him wanderer all the time.

You are an adventurer who's seen quite a bit and now that you've found a new interest to look into you decided to track down the Wanderer. You didn't even know why you wanted him to tell you his real name though. Maybe it will help you in some way. After all people usually told you things they'd rather not say out loud so maybe this guy would be different.

So here you were, trudging through the Sumeru woods to find this elusive traveller of yours.

You soon found the man and who was with him? The Fatui, it seems they was asking him for something, well more like trying to push whatever answers they wanted from him. Yet he didn't seem bothered by them, his arms crossed as he huffed, throwing remarks at the agents. It wouldn't take long for the agents to run out of patience and attack, however the Wanderer fought back effortlessly and seemingly knocked the Fatui down as if they where nothing but mere slimes. Your eyes widen at this, he's so much stronger then you expected, he turned towards where you hidden behind a tree "Come out, I know you're there, I would be a fool to not notice such a bumbling idiot following me" He hissed as you shyly stepped out, you didn't expect him to catch on so soon.

The Wanderer smirked at your reaction, "Oh I've been watching you since you've arrived here"

Your eyebrow raise up "And you haven't done anything?" He chuckled before answering in a teasing tone "You're not a threat to me, I've dealt with much worse, but now I must be going so stay out of my way" he said starting to walk off, you ran up and tried to grab his shoulder, anything to prevent him from leaving, you just found him, he can't just leave! However he caught your wrist with his hand before your hand could reach his shoulder and turned with a cold glare

"I thought I told you to stay out of my way, what could be so important? Speak" he commanded, you shivered and gulped.

"Im Y/N and just wanted to get to know you better, you.. interest me" you admitted as he only looked you up and down for any signs of lying or something out of the ordinary. Letting go of your hand he crossed his arms once more

"What about me interests you huh? " he asked curiously, you shifted under his gaze, how is he doing that? You wonder?

"Well," you started, taking a deep breath "You seem very strong and skilled for someone who I haven't seen around, I've been to many places and met many people, how come I don't know you? " You asked getting some confidence only for it to fall through at his cruel laughter.

"You just don't know everything, you don't need to know everything in that puny head of yours, what's with you mortals and wanting to know all anyways? " he said flicking your forehead with a Huff. You rubbed it with a pout "Hey, don't be mean"

"Who said I was mean? Besides, if you truly want to know you'll learn eventually." he said nonchalantly "Now enough of your questions and leave me alone, you should start heading home if you don't want to get lost in this awful forest" yet again you reached out to grab him but this time he didn't stop you as your hand reached his, truly you meant to grab his wrist but aimed a bit too low. Now hand in hand the man didn't look back right away, only shuffling his hat slightly to hide his face.

"you're really annoying you know that? Fine you can camp with me but don't try anything.. " he then growled and snatched his hand away, you then seen the slight blush that coated his face "And stop fucking touching me" Was your eyes deceiving you? Did you see a bit of electro spark? No he's an Anemo user, he wouldn't be able to use it.. Right?

He snapped before stalking away in a huff, leaving you baffled and confused. Was that just an act? Or really blushing from embarrassment? Who cares anyway. What matters is that you got the opportunity to talk more and the Wanderer didn't try and kill you... yet. Oh yeah that part still bothers you..but you try not to think on it much.

You both set up camp in a small clearing as it seemed the Wanderer didn't want to sleep while you was still awake, of course you wanted to talk more but silence fell between you two.

"Can't sleep or something? " he asked glaring over, he didn't seem tired at all, does he sleep?

"Well..i kind of wanted to talk more before we do" you said as his eyes never left your form, it was almost like he was analyzing you.

"seriously? do you ever give things a rest? " he asked and sighed as he got closer and pinned you down onto the ground causing you to yelp slightly "I know what you're up to, I can see it in your eyes, doesn't take a genius to see you craving me" he said arrogantly, sure you thought he was quite handsome but you didn't expect him to know or to make a move!

"if I indulge in your petty lust will you finally leave me alone? " he asked raising his brow as he leaned down to meet your lips softly. You eagerly kissed back, he pushed away from your mouth with a smug smirk "See? I was right" he laughed lightly and took a step backwards as he sat on his makeshift bed, you stared after him, feeling conflicted on what to do. This man was frustrating.

Pushing you against the makeshift bed, his lips connect once more with yours, he lead the dance of lust, his tongue dominating yours. As he licked into your mouth he grinded down harshly making you squirm slightly. You gasped when he pulled away, staring at you "I knew you were a virgin but did you honestly think that I couldn't tell the difference between a woman and a girl? " he chuckled darkly.

This made you blush furiously "W--Whats that supposed to mean?? " You said flustered as he only chuckled once more before pulling and ripping some of your clothing to get them off in a hurry "Just means I'll be the first to shape you, to make you perfect for me and me only" his voice had a hint of possessiveness, strange for a man who previously claimed to want to be alone.

Though he wasn't entirely wrong. You were his prey. Your eyes widened, you wanted to protest but words failed you. In front of you lay a man, well more like half naked man who looked down at you hungrily. His hands gripped at your hips pulling you close to him as his lips brushed against your neck, his hot breathing tickling your skin.

He trailed kisses along your jawline before kissing the spot beneath your ear lobe and began trailing downwards. You whimpered as his lips gently sucked and nipped at the sensitive area, you let out a soft moan before grabbing a handful of his hair "K-Kuni!" you gasped, he pulled back confused "How do you know that? " he asked a bit panicked, he swore he erased everyone's memory, everyone but the.. the traveller!

Before you could muster the words he slammed you down as his half lidded eyes stare down into yours "Clever.. you got information on me before approaching, I would congratulate you if it wasn't so annoying to have such lingering information, still.. I should give you something for your efforts~" He purred as he shoved two fingers into your now soaked hole, clenching around his fingers as he barely gave you time to get used to them before adding another then another, he seemed so eager to get this going, it was obvious in more then one way with the tent in his shorts.

"Aghhh, Kuni!! Please!" You moaned with a whine as your legs shook in pleasure, he stopped and looked at you chuckling as your eyes glistened with lust and desire.

His lips formed a smirk, oh how he loved being the cause of those lustful looks in your eyes. He removed his fingers and replaced them with himself, not giving you time to adjust he slammed himself inside, groaning lowly as he held onto your thighs harshly, leaving marks where his nails dug into the sensitive flesh. You were already moaning, begging for him to go harsher, he didn't need to be told twice as his thrusts became animalistic, his sweat glistening as he groans next to your ear, his hot breath hitting your neck. "Such a good little whore, taking me so well-" interrupted with a moan as he felt your hole clasp against him, getting close.

"Ahahaha~" he chuckled, trying his best to hold back his own climax as you whinned making it so much harder for him.

"You're so tight, I'm almost there!" he muttered quickly burying himself as far as he could.

"Don't stop-" he quickly cut you off as he came in a hard rush, throwing his head back and hissing as you continued to grind against him for a moment.

It took a moment for you to calm down enough to speak coherently, gasping as you finally did so "K-kuni..i.." you tried to speak again, panting heavily as he rested his forehead against yours as he tried catching his breath.

"don't, just sleep" he said as you felt the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion taking over, closing your eyes falling into a deep sleep.

[themoonweaversden]

Messeges that were found so far: SOOS (spoilers)

This is just to collect all the codes that you can type in in thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and their effects only (please click images for better quality)

Masterpost with all messeges / codes

Transcript:

"Sup Dude! Soos here, or as I call myself now "Mr Mystery," but I also call myself Soos too because that's still my name dude! Okay, so first, the GOSS, Tad Strange. Is Totally. Crushing on Woodpecker Guy. I ship it dude. I ship it HARD.

Anyway Mabel wanted me to write about the triangle guy? Dawg, homie is BAD. NEWS. Never trust a bro who can climb inside of your brain. And his book is sus and, to be quite frank, mid. I looked inside and just saw glitches and the words "HE'S UNCORRUPTABLE." What's that supposed to mean? At least holding the book made me look kinda smart, so 1/5 stars I guess.

Anyway Mabel told me to keep it brief, which is no problem for me, I love brievity! I can't get enough of it! Being succinct is like, super easy for me for some reason, I guess it's like a gift? Don't get me started on pithiness, let alone- oh dang I'm like, running out of paper?! LOL! That's what tape is for bro!

SOLVED!

What were we talking about? Oh yeah, my life as chief proprietor/tour guide/scam-magineer (Mr Pine's phrase) of the Mystery Shack! Running this place is an actual dream come true. To stop from pinching myself I asked Old Man McGucket to invent a Pinch-Bot but then it got loose and went on a pinching spree and had to be put down, heh heh. Wild times!

What's the shack like without the Pines? Well, it's got a lot more laser tag. And Questiony is back and MORE QUESTIONABLE THAN EVER! (Turns out all he needed was PANTS!) Every day I get to regale the children with yarns of enchantment and lore, and Melody set up this dope train that goes through the redwoods carrying baby goats. We're doing like... so good. Knock on on wood, but we're always saying "jinx" after talking and like, "anticipating each others emotional needs." Might be some little Sooslets on the way! WINK!

Mr Pines is gonna be away at sea for a while but he promised to not send me any postcards, which meant a lot to me. Dude is a real one! Anyway, I gotta go get some lotion for my cheeks. Abuelita and Melody have been pinching me at the same time a lot and it's starting to become a problem.

Look what I gotta deal with over here! Seesh! Stay cool, and if you're ever in Oregon stop by the Mystery Shack to see the local world record holder for the world's happiest dude. ME! Ha-ha!

-Soos "Mr Mystery" Ramirez

PS: Don't tell Ford that I got pudding on his cursed book!! Unless he likes pussing, then tell him to lick here ⟶

PPS: Did you know that you can turn any spoon into a spork with a few simple adjustments? I'll show you how any time dude!

PPS: If you see Bill, cover your head in tin foil and bring some ninja stars. And a bat, in case he ever accquires human flesh. Or in case you see a PINATA"

[multi-fandom-agereg]

hello :3 if it's okay could I ask for anime buggy being a cg for his baby? thank you in advance ♡♡

🤡 Buggy Agere Headcanons 🎈

🎈 | aaa I love buggy! One of my favorites actrally! I shall provide some CG things for our favorite clownnn

⚠️ | clown things. Clown man. Clown themes, clown everything! If you're uncomfy with that please don't read!, And a bit of swearing. Thanks for reading !

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; one word: Prideful. He thinks he's one of the best caregivers out there, so when first starting out with his caregiver bizz he thought he wouldn't make mistakes

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; he's gotten a bit better with this, but they have a few.. things to patch up. But for the most part he's a decent caretaker!

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; strict but soft spoken. It's unusual to see him "soft spoken" as he's extremely obnoxious and ignorant. But there are times when he's quiet and considerate. When it comes to you he has a personality switch

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; hate loud noises? He'll personally keep his outside voice from interrupting your space and personally have a.. "nice" conversation with his crew if they at all bother you in any way

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; you have like a 100 rules it's actrally up to 10 to follow. But he helps you through them! They go from helping out with the crew (if possible) to taking care of yourself, sleep.. so it's mostly self care. He sometimes forgets about himself when he's helping out 😭

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; despite some personality changes when it comes to your regression, he gets extremely jealous and pissy when you're hanging out with his crew more than him. He doesn't usually mind it but sometimes he just... Gets personal with feelings

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; he's trying to work on it though.

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; a list of petnames! He never slows to adding more each day. Wanna know them? Of course ya do! Don't be surprised that his petnames are clown themed for the most part. So, Binky/bubbles/baby/booper/little man/girl— you get the idea

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; insecure about his height. He fears that his size will just end up you bring afraid of him. At the end of the day the last thing he wants is you to end up being scared of him or hating him in the matter

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; so to fix this, it's common to see him crouched when he talks to you. Just to be cautious and make him feel just slightly better about himself

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; doesn't show it, but he gets concerned. So much to worry about, so little eyes to help out. If he had the chance he'd do anything to make sure you're safe. Even if that meant baby proofing everything. He makes mistakes, and he isn't perfect at caregiving. But he manages at the end of the day

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; I like to imagine that if he had a playlist for you it would be mostly filled with autohart and insane clown posse. (I know technically they aren't in our 'timeline' but nobody is stopping me from stating facts)/j

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; like I said, he makes his mistakes. And his rules are.. strange sometimes. His crewmates believe that he's not being kid friendly in terms of language. But he swears like a sailor, it's hard to just stop right then and there. sometimes he'd catch himself before cussing, and say something like "freaking" instead.

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; but when a swear do slide.. he encourages when you do it. For instance: "fuck!" (You repeat it with confidence, then he ends up laughing). So yeah probably not the best at being language friendly—

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; forehead kisses, picking you up when you declare uppsies, cuddles, neck nuzzles, whispers.. this man has it all. He loves physical affection but gets embarrassed if he's caught doing it. So if you want affection, being alone with him is the best time to do it

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; doesn't have bottles buuut he does have a DIY! He made a cup out of wood and let you color on it! It's not much but it's a wonderful thought

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; amazing with all littles. No matter the gender, age, personality, so on. So here's a tip, you have a bratty personality? Well he'll just be bratty right back! He mostly follows your own mood. Similar to a copycat, If you were to get angry he'll do it right back.

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; this includes every mood. And sadness is a full on dedication thing. He'll force himself to start crying as well. He's a huge man child and will have temper tantrums with you

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; autistic and trauma caregiver. that's all I have to say

(˳⏑ ⏑ ) ; he holds your hand all the time.. that's.. just a small detail Headcanon I wanted to put here, yep

[iheartchv]

Hiiiiii 💙💙💙 I love your COD match ups and I was wondering if I could have one too??

I’m 5’1”/155cm, very curvy but also surprisingly strong for a woman. Natural blonde with blue eyes but my hair is a different color like every few months (it’s blue right now! 🤭). I pretty much only wear makeup when I go out; the rest of the time it’s only mascara and brows. I like to wear superhero or witchy t shirts, leggings or jeans and combat boots, or in the winter I love my silly cozy sweaters.

I’m an INFJ, Ennegram Type 9. I am very definitely an introvert that prefers to spend time alone at home or in the woods with my dogs. I devour books, mostly fantasy/romance/mystery, I love playing cozy games or adventure games, and I write like a fiend. I’m a practicing witch.

I take a long time to bond and trust people, but when I am close with people I’m very hyper, affectionate, bubbly, sweet and loving. I still do best one on one or in very small groups. I’m AuDHD with high anxiety so I definitely feel way more comfortable with people who either are similar or understand how to help me through meltdowns.

I’m a professional dog trainer and have several Border collies who I spend most of my time and energy on; they are my heart and soul. We do EVERYTHING together 💙 my favorite part of my day is being outside with them.

My hyperfixations currently are Nightwing & Red Hood, COD, dogs and witchy things 🥰

Thank you so much in advance, you are such a cool person and I love your writing!!

🤔 I'll pair you with...

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish 🧼

I think Soap would be your match

Total opposites yet can't stand to be apart for long periods of time

//I'm running out of scenarios, bear with me >3>

You're out shopping in town

Ofc your fur babies have to go with you

They were pretty well behaved and everyone loved seeing your dogs

"You've got some loyal body guards" they'd say

Some of the older ladies gossip about you needing to find yourself a man

But you thought you had all you needed: just you and your dogs

Little did you know that running into Soap would lead you down a path you never thought you'd take

Soap was sitting on a bench, watching people pass by, just sitting alone with his thoughts

You passed by and a piece of paper fell out of your back pocket

He saw the paper and figured it was yours

Could've been important

"Hey, miss"

You turned around to see if there was someone talking to you

"Yes?"

"You dropped this"

You were met with the most beautiful blue eyes you've seen

"Oh, uhm, thanks. It was just my grocery list"

A small smile crossed yoir lips

"Oh... do you want it anyway? I can throw it away for you, if you want. I just thought maybe there was something important on it"

"Sure, that'd be fine if you threw it away"

"Yes, ma'am"

He crumbled the paper in his hand and threw it in a nearby trash bin

Soap noticed you had your hands full, your dog's leashes and bags of groceries in hand

"You've got a handful. I could help you with that"

You didn't want to feel like a burden to this stranger, who made your heart feel strangely warm and fuzzy

"Are you sure, you don't mind?"

"Nah, not fir a beautiful lady like yourself"

You felt your heart start to pound

Your cheeks started to turn pink at his flirty compliment

"Okay"

He took the bags from your arms and then smiled at you

"Lead the way, I'll follow"

As you both walked to your house Soap and you introduced yourselves

He commented on your dogs, how they seemed so well trained

When you told him you were a trained dog trainer he smirked

"Ah, that's why"

He liked dogs

He was a dog person

When you made it to your front step, you opened the door to let your dogs inside, and then turned to collect your bags from Soap

He handed them to you

"You got them?" He asked, making sure you could close your dog with your arms full

"Yeah, I got them. Thanks"

"You're welcome."

A ring coming from his cell phone signaled him to go

"I've gotta go. Will I see you around?"

"Yeah, most likely"

"Alright. You take care of yourself."

You gave a nod with a soft smile

"You too."

🤍

You two became friends, close friends

So close, anyone would've thought you both were a couple

Soap would joke and tease saying they were, which made you blush and get flustered

He would only laugh and reply "I'm just joshin' with ya"

Any time he had, Soap would drop by to visit you

(Before meeting you again, he went back to the trash bin and got the crumbled piece of paper before going home that afternoon... to keep it because it had your handwriting on it)

Months went by, and everytime you went into town your eyes scanned the stores, streets, and faces of people to find Soap

Yeah, he told you he was in the military

You kinda figured he was most likely to be far away somewhere in some country or countries

You just hoped that he make it back safe

In the short amount of time, you had come to enjoy being around him

Plus your collies loved him

And he loved them, as well, as if they were his own

It warmed your heart to see him playing with your dogs outside, petting them, giving them scratches

Right now, you felt your heart tighten and your eyes water a bit

You missed him so much

You hoped every day and night that Soap would be always protected and return

One day, you saw him and you never felt more happy to see anyone

Your dogs reflected your happiness, their tails wagging

"Johnny!"

He saw you running to him, your dogs running faster then you and leading you, it seemed like

He let out a 'oof!' and a soft chuckle as you wrapped your arms around him in a hug

He hugged you back, loving the feel of you in his arms

His heart felt so warm and fuzzy holding you like this

"I'm glad you're safe and sound"

"Me, too, bonnie. Me, too...."

❤

After a while, Soap asked you out on a date

It went pretty well

He stole a kiss from you

He thought you looked cute blushing and flustered

After many more dates, he wanted to be official with you

"I want you to be my girlfriend... I understand if you say no, but... I just want you to know that I love you, I care about you. I want you, you're all I want, sweetheart"

You accept after thinking your feelings over and through

You've made him the happiest man on earth right now

Soap will do whatever it takes to make you happy, as happy as you've made him

[thelampisaflashlight]

A Nightlight For Your Pride

[Lamb meets the usually confident Swiss in a time of weakness and doubt. Short read, but a wholesome one.] Below the cut.

"You're just... not really my type."

It shouldn't bother him, Swiss knows.

Most of the time he can let that sort of thing slide, cause, shit, if he was everyone's type he'd be up to his ears in warm bodies to cuddle, but he thought...

Swiss thumps the back of his head against the stone wall behind him, running a hand down his face as the other fiddles with the cigarette pinched between his fingers, unlit.

"I'm sorry if I led you on, that wasn't my intention."

He really thought...

"I don't mind hooking up, but dating's a no."

He was so fucking embarrassed.

"No, it's, it's fine." He'd said, "No worries."

Fine.

No worries.

"Dammit..." Swiss groans, sinking down into a squat.

He'd kind of walked off after that, after saying it was fine, and just... kept going.

Honestly, Swiss had only meant to take a short walk to clear his head, but now he's here; The old chapel on the other side of the woods past the lake.

It's a place he's maybe been once or twice before, but never alone, and certainly not this late in the afternoon.

"Haahhh... Man, why am I so hung up on this?" he mutters to himself, rummaging through his pockets for his lighter, "I didn't even like her that much, I just..."

What had he been thinking?

"Stupid."

They just got back from tour, he should be celebrating, not getting hung up over some girl.

Some pretty, smart, talented girl, who made his stomach feel all wiggly...

"We can still be friends though."

Swiss lets the cigarette hang in his mouth and go to ash.

"I don't think... that's possible." he mumbles, then asks the air, "Do you?"

"I have... no idea." a voice from somewhere above his head has Swiss scrambling away from the wall.

"Who's there?!" he shouts, panicked, "Who-"

"The nightshift." says a little ghoul as they hang over the top of the wall, horns glowing bright green in the fading light, "I did not mean to startle you, but there was not a good time to announce my presence."

"The nightsh-Oh. Oh, shit! How late is it?" Swiss asks, patting himself down for his phone, but coming up empty, "Shit..."

The ghoul on the wall slinks down and crouches on the ground in a very froglike pose, reaching into a pouch around their waist and withdrawing Swiss' phone from it, holding it out to him carefully.

"You dropped this by the lake."

"You've been, uh, you've been following me that long?" Swiss chuckles nervously, wondering how he hadn't noticed them before taking his phone back, "You... you could have said something sooner."

"Mn, you did not seem like you wanted to be bothered." the ghoul replies, long, pale tail sweeping through the leaves on the ground, the eerie glow coming off the spade casting yet more of that strange green light, "Normally, I would not follow someone so far. I do not like wandering too much, but it will be getting dark soon."

"Wait..." Swiss stares at the ghoul for a moment, tilting his head, "Wait, do I know you?"

"I do not think so?" they reply, mirroring the tilt, "You do not look familiar to me."

"No, no, I..."

Swiss bites the inside of his cheek, thinking back on a conversation he'd had with Dew ages ago now...

What was...

“There’s only one other ghoul from that incident that’s still in residence here, but they live in the dorms with the human clergy, and they’re honestly kind of weird.”

“How so?”

“Walks on all fours all the time, glows in the dark like a radioactive sleep paralysis demon, dislikes other ghouls …except for fucking Aeth for some reason…”

“Why do you sound so bitter about that, hm~?”

"You're... Satanas I never did learn your name, but, I heard about you from a friend." he says finally, "You live with the clergy, right?"

The ghoul nods.

"I did not know whether or not I should be worried that people speak of me." they muse, "Or flattered."

Radioactive sleep paralysis demon...

"Ehn, it's subjective..." Swiss lands on, "So you are...?"

"Lamb."

"Lamb, okay. Uh, I'm Swiss." he says, offering his hand to them, "Nice to meet you."

"Swiss like the cheese, or Swiss like the country?" Lamb asks, giving Swiss' hand a gentle pat instead of shaking it.

"Oh, it's, I guess like the country kind, but it's more like, Swiss Army Knife, 'cause I'm a multi-"

...dislikes other ghouls...

Swiss pauses, biting his lip.

"-talented individual." he grins, "So, Lamb, um, care to escort me back to the abbey? Since it looks like the sun's going to set soon, and, ya know, can't see very well in the dark."

Lamb nods.

"Stay close then."

The walk back to the abbey is cathartic if nothing else.

Watching Lamb weave through the tall grass on all fours is silly, but something about the way they pause and wait for him to catch up, or look back at him, or warn him of dips in the path makes Swiss' chest feel warm.

"...Possibly rude question, but... why do you walk like this?" Swiss asks as they make their way round the lake, which Lamb stops at to lap at the water there like some kind of predator mammal taking a break from the hunt to hydrate, "Is it comfortable?"

Lamb peers back at him and hums.

"It's not particularly uncomfortable." they say, moving back into a seated position, "Feels safer."

"Safer?"

Lamb shrugs, then raises up, albeit not very high, standing at their full height.

They're really quite small, maybe around Aurora's height, possibly a smidge taller, but it's hard to tell without the ghoulette around to compare them to.

"I wasn't saying that to make you feel like you needed to stand up-" Swiss frets.

The ghoul gives him a confused look and carries on walking towards the abbey, their tail flicking through the grass, now brighter than before.

"Why..." Swiss starts, but cuts himself off.

"You can ask questions." Lamb tells him, as if sensing his hesitation, their tone shifting to a gentler one that puts Swiss strangely at ease, "I don't mind."

Swiss considers this, catching up to walk beside them.

"Why does your tail... glow?"

Man, he sounds like a little kid.

"I don't really know." Lamb admits, "But Omega said it's not hazardous or really... uh, toxic or anything of the sort. Although, I would not touch it."

"Why not?"

Yeup, little kid.

"It can get on your skin and stain it."

Swiss blinks.

"Really?"

And just like that, he's reaching out and-

"...Hey, Aeth, do we have any of the good dish soap?"

His hands keep that unnatural glow for two whole hours despite Aether almost scrubbing off a full layer of Swiss' skin, but it fades eventually.

And when it does?

He misses it.

[toxicanonymity]

Hiya honey, could you please do Vampire Michael Myers who finds the reader walking into a castle and gets lost so when she tries to find her way out she bumps into Michael and he traps her against the cold stoned wall inhaling her scent and goes like primal mode or some sort of hunter/prey type deal.. btw I love your writing🖤you're truly appreciated and deserve all the love and support you get <3

Yes, I had no idea I had so many thoughts about Vampire Michael Myers. I’ve never written a vampire before. I added a few HCs at the bottom in summary. And thank you for the kind words 🖤 I appreciate you too! Love you friend. Vampire edit by me lol.

Michael's Castle

3k | Vampire!Michael Myers x Fem!Reader | NSFW 

Warnings: unsafe piv, period stuff / cunnilingus, weird ritualistic stuff, manhandling, dubcon/noncon

You’re vacationing in Romania, and your hostel isn’t far from a forest.  You go for a hike alone, and there’s a strange feeling in the woods.  Time seems to move differently.  It starts getting dark long before you expect. Your compass stops working and your phone doesn’t have service.  Your period cramps are getting worse.  The forest is dense, but it’s thinning up ahead.  You feel like you’re almost to civilization, so you keep going instead of turning around, thinking you’ll get a cab back to the hostel.  It would be too risky to get lost deep in the forest. 

At the edge of the woods, there’s a path. It’s dusk, there’s no lighting, and you can’t see far. You start walking along the path and it turns into a drawbridge over a canal, where a dense fog is settling.  A large building looms ahead.  As you walk further, you can see it’s a stone castle.  The canal was a moat.  There are two flickering lights.  You quicken your pace and walk toward the lights.  The lights are two gas lamps on either side of a giant, double wooden door. 

You knock and there’s no answer, but it creaks open.  After waiting a few seconds, you step inside.  The air is cool and dry.  Pillar candles sparsely adorn the walls, not nearly enough to illuminate the whole area, but there are a few openings in the ceiling that would provide sunlight if it weren’t dark out.  

The candles are lit, so someone must be home.   You call, “Hello?” but no one answers. 

The large wood door slams shut, startling you along with a few bats, which screech and fly up to the ceiling.  You turn around and see no one.   You follow the candles to a hallway. Your footsteps echo.  The hall is lined with crevasses you can’t see into.  A sense of dread sets over you, and you decide it’s time to leave rather than walk even deeper into this gloomy castle.  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

When you’re almost back to the main entrance, you bump into an enormous human shape and your heart goes to your throat. 

You stare straight up at the looming figure.  He might be the largest man you’ve ever seen. 

“I, uh, seem to be lost," you say. "I didn't mean to intrude.  I just need to call a cab back to my hostel.” 

In the flickering candlelight, you see the pale face of a man.  His mouth is obscured by a tall, dark collar, but from the nose up, he looks like notorious escaped killer Michael Myers.  Has he been hiding out here all these years? 

The man sniffs the air like an animal and his nostrils seem to flare.   

You swallow and begin to back up, but he grabs you by the throat.   He slams you up against the cold, stone wall right next to a candle.  His grip on your throat tightens and you squirm.  He raises you up at least a foot off the ground to look at him face-to-face. You cough and gag and he loosens his grip, holding you instead with his hands on your arms. Your breath is visible in the air between you.

There’s no doubt in your mind it’s Michael Myers.  He has the exact same features as Michael’s mask, and a scar on one eye.   Something is off about him, though. He licks his lips.  It’s not a mask.   It’s his actual face, with the exact same features. 

He leans in and you think you see a flicker of beautiful human eyes gazing down from above the collar, but he sniffs you and his eyes darken entirely.  Even the whites of his eyes are black.  Something feels very wrong about him, and yet  something also stirs between your legs. There’s also an air of sensuality about him.  

The stone is cold and rough behind your head.  You’re grateful to be wearing your hiking clothes.  Your sweatshirt allows you some buffer from the stone, but it still doesn’t feel good. Michael releases you and you fall to the ground.  You start to stand up and wonder if he’s going to let you leave him in peace.  

No, he doesn’t.  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

He blocks the hallway so you can’t get back to the front door.  He lets you walk the opposite direction, deeper, and darker into the castle, then follows after you.  He’s not walking fast, but his stride is so long that he’s gaining on you as you run down the hall.   You stumble over what feels like uneven cobblestone, unable to see, with Michael lumbering behind you.  You hit a dead end and your only choice is a spiral staircase that only goes down.  

You look back to see how close Michael is and you do a double take.  His collar is enormous, making him look even larger than he is.  He takes up the whole staircase.  The stairs finally end and your stomach drops when you see iron bars in front of you.  You’re in a dungeon.  You scurry around looking for an exit, but there isn’t one.   There are several cells, and each looks worse than the last.  There are also a bunch of big metal hooks hanging from the ceiling.  You don’t know what the equipment is, but it doesn’t look good.  Iron, sharp objects, balls and chains, saws.  

Michael looms patiently, blocking the exit, watching you.  You get the sense he’s waiting for you to choose a cell for yourself.  There’s nowhere for you to run, so you just stand there. Eventually, he forces you into a cell that has an awful looking chair with iron restraints and a cream-colored nightgown hanging from a hook. 

He crowds you up against the wall and pulls a metal lever on the wall, which turns on a gas lamp.   God, he’s huge.  His jumpsuit is black.  He licks his lips again and stretches his jaw.  That’s when you see them – two small, sharp fangs.  His tongue caresses the sharp point of one of them as he bends down and sniffs you, then lifts you up again.  You whimper in horror. He brings his face to your jaw.   His breath is ice cold on your neck.  It sends a shiver down your spine and your nipples pucker.  Blood rushes to your loins.  Your body is confused.  

“Wait, wait, wait,” you plead.  

You urgently unbutton and unzip your pants, dip your finger inside yourself and bring it out so he can see your blood.  “Here,” you say.  “Take all you want.”  You kick off your pants entirely.  Your heart is racing but you pray this works.  

He takes a long, hard sniff, closing his eyes.  He likes what he smells. He puts your fingers in his mouth and sucks, giving you butterflies in the stomach.  Then, he throws you down on the floor.  As you look up at him, you see a bulge swelling in his jumpsuit.  You scramble back into the corner and he prowls toward you.  The scarred, white skin of his face moves as he clenches his jaw and flares his nostrils.

His massive, icy hands spread your knees apart, then he buries his face between your legs, nose first, drawing a long inhale.  He growls, then digs in. His lips and tongue are cold and make you tingle.  He laps every crevice of your folds.  He plunges his tongue inside you and a knot forms in your core with his nose digging into your clit.  He absolutely devours your cunt.  He sucks harder and harder and periodically uses his fingers to pillage you for more blood. His enormous middle finger reaches all the way to your cervix.  You’re throbbing and weak. Your thighs tremble.  A large vein throbs across his forehead.

 He unhinges his jaw and his mouth covers your entire seam like a vacuum.   He sucks with so much pressure it feels like your whole uterus is emptying into his mouth.  The suction does something to you.  You tingle and throb and want more and more.    He continues to suck with his mouth sealed around you, his fangs pressed into your folds, while his tongue violently scrapes your walls clean. The next thing you know, you hear your moan echo through the dungeon as you come in his face.  He doesn’t let up.  You writhe and pulse and your hips roll into his face until you can finally relax. 

When he’s finished, he looks up at you with the lower half of his face covered in blood as you finish coming.   His chest rises and falls. He picks up your underwear and jeans and smells them. He tears off your hoodie, shirt, and bra.  He tosses the thin nightgown at you and takes your clothes with him as he leaves and locks you in the cell.

🦇🦇🦇🦇

You shiver and cry on the cold stone floor for what feels like hours.  Your cramps are gone, but you’re freezing and scared.  It’s so dark.  You try opening the cell door, and you can't make it budge.  You try to sleep, but  you can’t get tired. Eventually, you explore the rest of the cell and find a sharp object that allows you to open the lock with some difficulty.  You try to open the door as quietly as possible, but the scrape of metal on stone still echoes. 

There's only one way out – up the spiral staircase and down the hall.  You make it up the staircase, your heart pounding. Then you hear the thud of boots in the distance.  There's nowhere for you to go, so you cower against the wall, making yourself as small as possible as the footsteps get louder.  You dip your fingers into yourself and frantically check for blood, but there’s none.  He took it all.  What you do find is arousal.  You feel a pang of shame, but it’s natural for your body to respond this way to a hot, hulking vampire that oozes sexual energy and already ate you out within an inch of your life.  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

The footsteps stop, and you try to creep down the hall silently.  You make it all the way to the front entrance, and as soon as you’re about to step into the large, open space, a massive hand shoots out and grabs you by the throat.  He was waiting for you.  

Once again, he slams you against the cold wall next to a pillar candle.  You thrash and choke, and he releases his grip, catching you with his knee between your legs and his hands on your arms. The flame illuminates his haunting face.  You stare into his black eyes and feel something happening to you.  His nose comes to your neck and you feel the suction of his nostrils as he inhales your scent.  

He grabs the candelabra on the wall and pulls it. The wall behind you begins to lower into the ground, and he throws you over his shoulder.    The lowering stone sounds like a large drawbridge creaking and grinding.  His hand slips between your legs while he waits for the secret door to lower completely into the floor.  A large finger glides against your slippery clit, and you feel like you could pass out.  He steps into the hidden passage and pulls another candelabra on the wall. 

Gas flames flicker to life.  He lumbers down the dimly lit hall.  He's so tall, you feel like you're too close to the ceiling. You're afraid of where he's taking you.  You pray it's not a shortcut to the dungeon.  

Your hip rests against his stiff collar.   Since you're facing backwards, you can't see where you're going, but you can see the walls of the passage are made of bones like an ossuary.  Your heart sinks.   What is he going to do to you?  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

He bends his knees to crouch under an archway and comes to a stop.  He  pulls another candelabra and there’s more creaking and grinding.  Then, he throws you down and you brace for impact but your back lands on something soft and velvet that continues to rise a few more inches before coming to a stop.  When the grind of stone-on-stone stops, you hear faint organ music in the distance.   You're lying face up on a padded, velvet altar of sorts.   Your ass is at the edge with your legs hanging off.    You try to sit up and he forces you back down. 

He takes the nightgown off you and spreads your knees,  wedging his enormous form between them.  The altar is the exact height of his inseam.  His pelvis presses into you, and the fabric of his black jumpsuit is silky and smooth against your dripping seam.  His enormous package hardens right between your legs, and your whole body feels weak with arousal.  The bulge is thick and pulses against you.  All your blood rushes to your loins and your hips tilt, reflexively seeking more of him.  He pushes into you harder, rolling his hard, satin-clad member against your naked, slippery clit.  

He looms over you, observing you.    His black eyes glisten and he tilts his head. He has the nicest Adam's apple, too, perfectly framed by his collar.  He adjusts his collar, then begins to unzip his suit.  His pale skin glistens in the flickering light.   He brings the zipper down past where you can see and his monster cock springs out and slaps your clit, sending a rush of pleasure through you.  He nestles the tip at your entrance.  You throb with need and whimper in fear.  

His large hands grab hold of your hips and jerk you toward him at the same time he thrusts forward,  plunging his entire length into you.  Your body screams and so do you as his obscene length splits you in two.  He retreats then pushes in again and you whimper and cry.   He puts his hands on your abdomen and slides them onto your breasts as his hips rock into you.  His icy palms pucker your nipples. He explores your body, and you wince a little less with each thrust. 

He lowers his head to your chest.  Your body is starting to enjoy the feeling of his cock filling you up in short, slow thrusts.  His mouth hovers over your nipple and his icy breath makes it painfully hard.  He brings his face directly over yours and his soft thrusts turn into harder jabs..   Tension builds deep inside you.  

His black eyes penetrate yours with his cock deep inside you.  He opens his mouth and licks his lips.  Your whole body prickles in goosebumps when you see his fangs again.  There's a flash of something behind his eyes, something other than black.  All the lights flicker out at once, but not before you see his collar drop and his jumpsuit fall around his waist.  The faint music sounds louder with the lights out.  

The pitch dark also makes his shaft feel even better as he rams into you.   The cool skin of his chest meets yours, then his lips brush against your mouth.  He slows his hips but continues to fill you to the brim with each rut.  The tension inside you is overwhelming. You’re aching for release and your hips roll into him needily. 

His cool tongue gently breaches your mouth and he kisses you passionately.  His fang pricks you on the lip, then sucks it feverishly, and his already-hard cock swells even bigger and harder inside you as he fucks you and you start twitching on his cock.    

When he’s done with your lip, he stills himself, taking an enormous breath in through his nose and slowing his hips almost to a halt, but not completely.  You don’t want him to stop.  Your hips rise into his and your legs wrap around him.  He brings his lips to your jaw and drags them lightly down your neck, his nose brushing your chin as he moves his lips to the other side. He buries his steely cock inside you at a crawling pace that’s driving you mad. 

He unhinges his jaw and seals his lips in the crook of your neck.  His tongue circles your skin and his cock twitches inside you then slowly retreats and stops, half-in.  His fangs graze you, then sink deep into your delicate neck at the same time his cock slams back into you.  You jolt in pleasure.  He moves his hips as he sucks your blood.  A new life force surges through you and something old spills out.  His cock erupts and so does the tension in your core.  His fangs sink deeper and he sucks with superhuman power.  He pulsates enormously inside you while you contract around him and cool waves of relief wash over your body.  It’s not just physical – his fangs are drawing out all your fears and anxiety.  It’s just fading away.  

When he’s finished, the candles flicker back on.  There are several large veins across his forehead and cheeks that deflate back into his smooth, pale skin as he stands up.  You admire his ripped body and bullet wound scars as he pulls his jumpsuit sleeves back on.    When he turns up his collar, a gust of wind blows out all the flames again and you feel a rush of excitement.  But what’s strange is that somehow, you can still see his pale face.  Not very well, not very much, but the darkness is no longer pitch-black.  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

Vampire Michael HCs:

Hybrid 1978/2007. His face IS the mask. It’s smooth like the 1978 flashback in Halloween Kills, but he has veins in his face that bulge in the pattern of the RZ  mask.  Eyes are black, including the sclera.  You rarely think you catch a glimpse of something else.  Hot AF almost 200 cm, muscular, super strength. 

Black jumpsuit, style of mechanic suit but in smooth, vampire uniform material. Enormous collar instead of cape.

Doesn't use electricity.  Super high tech castle considering it's all totally analog. Has an altar that comes up out of the floor with handles each side conveniently placed for leverage as he fucks you. 

And bonus version.of the cobbled together pic lol

almost forgot my little tag list lol Michael tag list: @ethanhoewke @rebel-blue @wolvesandvampires