#micah the vampire

[charlybird]

decided to annoy everyone with some Micah fanart lol I'll leave Reblogs on for this one I think

[whoslinger]

Someone on Instagram suggested vampire Micah so here he is

[purplequay]

bunch of doodles ive been doing over the past couple of weeks i think

[iberissims]

"... you created that monster ..." "... now deal with it!"

Micah had enough of Vlads shenanigans and ripped him a new one for @gloomiegalaxie femboy friday.

Hadn't had much time to be on the PC today but it's still friday where I am living, soooo ... xD

poses by @herecirmsims THANK you SO much for them! <3

[kachowden]

I am already in love with the pink lemonade cowboy 🥰😍

Vampire!Cowboy! Yandere x GN! Reader

——————-(<3)—————

A/n: I do not condone yandere behavior, this is purely fictional. This will be a short series. If you want to see what our yandere looks like you can see him here <3 also this technically isn’t a slow burn but the juicy stuff will show up in part 2

Part 1

——————————————————-

The rain thudded dully against the roof of your old rusty car. Your windshield wipers squeaked across your windows, flinging off thin sheets of water that blurred the dark road in front of you. Puddles reflected in your single headlight.

You’re grandfather was a cruel man.

As sweet as honey, you loved your grandfather dearly. He was always especially generous on the holidays.

But he was cruel. Because while he was on his “retirement vacation”, he left his massive farm in your care.

You! The grandchild who hadn’t done a lick of farm work in their entire life! Hell the closest thing to a farm you’d ever been to was a petting zoo when you were- what 6??

How were you expected to do anything remotely useful! In fact you were 90% sure that these crops and animals would be dead and gone within a week under your care.

But ohoho! Lucky you! You grandfather has a helper on the farm! A complete Fucking stranger who you’d never met before was going to be sharing a house with you for the next 6 weeks! Thank you grandpa! Love you SOO much!

You did love him. But you were irritated and you felt like you had a right to be so! He dropped this bombshell on you, not even asking if you had any plans!

Which you didn’t but that wasn’t the point!

Plans could’ve popped up at any moment!

With a very stressed sigh you pulled your beaten up car into the drive way of the rustic red farm house. Your engine wheezed with exhaust as your wheels rolled to a bumpy stop on the wet pavement. It took about 5 hours to drive to where your grandpa lived. Which meant you couldn’t just stay at your house and visit everyday to water the animals and feed the crops or whatever.

You physically had to stay here.

I mean it was a paid vacation but come on! You’d rather be working at the café than on a farm! At least you knew what you were doing there!

You let your head fall softly against the steering wheel, sighing again at your circumstances.

“Whatever. No use in complaining now.”

“Probably not kid.”

“Holy Sh-!”

The violent sound of your car horn scattered birds and animals for miles. Though there were few to begin with in this dreary weather. The stranger who had peered through your open window winced, covering his ears with a snarl.

“Oh shit- i am so sorry you just- actually- no what the fuck you scared the shit out of me!”

Typically you weren’t one to point fingers but you were in a particularly bad mood today so you felt that it was justified. Plus he did scare you!

The strangers lips twisted into a grimace, and you felt your body sending various warning signals when his turquoise irises narrowed down on your figure. Jeez this dude had a judgmental stare. You prayed this guy wasn’t your grandfathers “help”.

The mystery man clicked his tongue. “You the old mans grandkid?”

Fuck

You glared deeply at the totally not gorgeous cowboy, “..and I suppose you’re his “helper”?”

The stranger didn’t seem to take very kindly to your attitude, what with the way he leaned his head a little further into your car window to stare you down.

You had half the nerve to try and close it on him but the dumb thing was a window crank and you wouldn’t have gotten it up in time anyway.

“The names Micah. Your pops calls me Mickey. It’s either Micah or Mic to you, kid.”

Asshole!

“I’m pretty sure we’re the same age Mickey.”

He didn’t respond to that, merely pulling himself out of the car with a deep exhale.

He backed up slightly from the vehicle, you assumed to wait for you to get out, but when he lifted his boot up you got a little more worried

“Hey what’re you-“

With a sharp kick, Mickey smashed his boot into the lower side of your car door causing it to shoot open like a spring lock. Aka causing you to flop out onto your ass with a loud cuss.

Crying out you scowled deeply at the cowboy who didn’t even bother to send you a snarky look in return.

You could feel the water drizzling through your hair and clothes.

Looking painfully disinterested, the redhead(?) began walking away from your slowly soaking form. Leaving you to bring in your luggage. In the rain.

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be friendly or something..” you growled somewhat pitifully into the empty cold rain.

Glancing down at your wet knees you sighed, beginning to pick yourself off the ground, in hopes to spare a little of your own dignity.

Though it was for not when you felt your non grippy shoes slide against a stray patch of mud.

You didn’t have time to do much more than gasp when you felt yourself fall forward, only to land into a surprisingly secure and- kinda cold, set of arms.

Your breathed deeply for a moment, pulling back to stare at Mickey, who’s own eyes peered down at you from the brim of his now spotted hat.

You didn’t want to acknowledge the size of his forearms, or how you could feel practically everything under that flimsy wife beater he wore despite the weather.

You swore you heard him mumble something along the lines of “city folk”, but you became too distracted when noticing the purple spotted umbrella that now shade the two of you from the rain.

“Oh..”

You think you finally saw a small smile on the cowboys lips.

“Still thinkin I ain’t nice?”

You flushed, mostly in embarrassment at the fact that he heard you.

“Ah dip, you heard that?”

His laugh was fucking hot dude.

“You’d be surprised on how much I can hear, Kid.”

“Creepy but okay.”

Mickey laughed again though a bit shorter this time before propping you back up. You swore you heard a deep inhale, but you weren’t sure due to the sound of rain pelting the umbrella and car.

“Why don’t you head inside. I’ll grab your luggage.”

“Oh no, I can take care of it-“

The man glared at you, though you felt it was considerably less hostile than it had been originally.

“Just get in or else the foods gon’ get cold.”

Food?

“Say less!”

You had half a mind to be embarrassed when Mickey laughed at the sight of you practically skipping up to the porch and through the rustic door.

—————————————-

There was a loud and aggressive knocking at your door.

You decided being cruel was a country thing.

Because while Mickey had been sweet enough to make you dinner last night and breakfast this morning, he also rudely woke you up at the ass crack of dawn and kicked you out into the field to help with the chores.

Now mind you, typically you were a morning person! A go-getter of sorts! But the sun wasn’t even awake yet! So why were you out here picking peas, tomatoes, squash, peppers and so on, when you could be sleeping peacefully, cozied up in the slightly itchy and heavy wool sheets of your guest bed! Something about “the morning dew” apparently.

You weren’t even sure how Mic got in your room after you didn’t respond, seeing as you were once again, 90% sure you locked the door. Then again, the food he made practically sent you into a coma once you were done.

You weren’t sure if it was coincidence or not, but Micah had made all your favorite foods that evening. You wanted to assume your pa had told him, but you didn’t believe for a second that, that rude cowboy would go out of his way to make your favorite foods for you.

Especially considering he didn’t eat any of it.

All he had was this weird cup of, what you could only assume was wine or cranberry juice and a few pieces of a steak he popped in the oven.

This guy was weird.

“Hey kid! You done pickin or are your city hands to sensitive to finish the job?”

Speak of the bastard and he will come! Unfuckenfortunately

Your scowl was probably noticeable from a mile away, and especially from where the tall country man stood, given his smug grin as he walked over to examine your work.

He whistled mockingly, freaky blue-green eyes scanning your baskets.

“Not bad, for city folk anyway. But here.-“ crouching down in front of you the, ginger(?) reached his rough hands out and softly pulled the baskets from your arms.

“You wanna keep your herbs separated from each other. Some of them are harder to tell from others and you don’t wanna go mixin them up.”

You watched quietly, mostly in your own mental brooding, as he carefully separated the different herbs and spices from each other. His hands were large, but you noticed how precise he seemed to be. He had to have been working here quite sometime, cuz you couldn’t tell much of a difference between half of the things he was organizing.

“There we go.” His voice was soft this morning. Blending in with the sound of the faint winds, and the after rain dripping from the gutters and into the soil. It was still too early for the birds to be chirping. The sun still had yet to rise but the stars gave just enough light to see the gentle gaze the farm boy had set on you.

This moment of silence was odd for you. Especially given the two of you bickering since your arrival yesterday. This guy before you made no sense. Like a switch, he was harsh and snappy, and then gentle and calm. Caring almost. At times he almost acted like he’d known you for years. Though that seemed to mostly happen when he was doing something around the farm.

Caught up in your own thoughts, you missed the way Mickeys eyes were burning into you. They moved languidly over your figure, taking in your attire, dressed more warmly for the morning chill. Nearly every part of you was covered.

Except your neck. You had forgotten to pack a scarf apparently.

The pale man’s jaw clenched tightly, his shoulders tensing before he scowled and stood up, interrupting the once peaceful atmosphere.

“Get up. We still have work to do.”

His tone was cold and biting like the morning. Your breath came out in foggy puffs. But his didn’t. At least you couldn’t see it from where you were.

You watched with furrowed brows knit confusion as the cowboys boots carried him into the farmhouse, right as the first rays of the sun stretched over the country side and bled into the fields.

What was his deal?

For the rest of the day, Mickey seemed to be adamant about being as big of a thorn in your side as possible. Barking at you to hurry up. Scowling at you when you slipped or did something even slightly wrong.

Perfectionist asshole.

He also seemed to be avoiding looking at you.

At least directly. Every time you turned to yell at him, or glare, his back was always turned or his head was to the side, seeming adamant on not meeting your eyes.

Moody much?

The only time he did look at you was when he thought you weren’t looking. ‘Specially when you were moving heavy objects and you had to take off your jacket so you wouldn’t drown in your own sweat.

To some extent you prided your self on your work. You weren’t lazy by any means, and actually considered yourself a fairly hard worker, if the muscles of your forearms were any indication. You weren’t ripped. But it was something right?

You assumed that Mic agreed, though granted he could’ve just been comparing yours to his own massive forearms. But with the way his eyes were trailing all over you and zoning in on your barren arms and shoulders, You were almost flattered!

Almost. If the same guy who was checking you out wasn’t also being bloody ruthless with the chores. You got a few scrapes and bruises by that time noon, and you practically fell into the rickety kitchen dining chairs.

“Holy fucking shit I’ve never moved that much in my entire life..” a pain groaned poured from your lips as your aching muscles strained with your body heaving itself upwards.

Mickey let out a soft scoff at the sound, though still considerably gentler than he had been all morning, as he placed a very aesthetic sand-which In front of you.

Your stomach growled particularly loud at the sight, and with new found energy you picked up the scrumptious food with a grateful thanks and began eating.

Mickey, once again, without a lunch of his own opted to watch you openly instead. His belt buckle jeans pressed into the kitchen counter top, muscular arms propping himself up against it.

He watched quietly, and you would’ve been freaked out if you weren’t so damn tired.

“There’s still more to do. We haven’t gotten to the animals yet. And the roof on the barn needs leak repairs.”

You choked.

Hacking violently you smacked your chest before unlodging the piece of fresh bread from your throat.

Gulping water quickly you exhaled and turned to look at the cowboy in what you hoped was a glare, but was more accurately a very pathetic frown.

“I-!” You opened your mouth to argue before closing it softly with a tired sigh.

You’d complained enough today.

Mickey had been doing this kind of work for who knows how long, and he was going out of his way to accommodate your pace, though not by much, and was even making you food. It felt rude to comparing at this point.

You just hoped that if you died from exhaustion Mickey wouldn’t use your body as fertilizer.

So with a resigned groan you sat up after finishing your delicious sandwich. “..Yeah, okay.” You mumbled, getting ready to move to the trash can and toss out the crumbs and paper, but a large pale hand forced you back into your seat, without much pressure given how tired your body already was.

You gazed at Mickey curiously.

The tall cowboy looked down at you firmly, his expression odd as he scanned your bruises and sweaty face. Sighing completely inaudibly before reaching into his back pocket and placing a tube of some kind of muscle cream and a pack of wraps.

“Go upstairs and run yourself a warm bath. You stink and the water will help relax your muscles so they wont hurt as much tomorrow. You can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you need to do, but I expect you down here and out at the gate by 5 to bring in the cattle. Got it?”

You were stunned. The smile that worked its way on your face seemed to embarrass the farmer slightly as he turned away from you with folded arms and a grumpy frown.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m only letting you off because at this point you’ll slow me down more than anything. I don’t need a clumsy city kid messing up my work.”

You chose to ignore the bastards insults in favor of gently placing your arm on his lower bicep.

“Thanks Mic.”

You missed the deep inhale and weird glow of the cowboys eyes that followed you up the stairs and into your bedroom.

“…..”

It was good to see you hadn’t changed much.

[igotsnothing]

Beginning/Previous/Next

[enchantedruin]

"Sweet Caroline" inspired by @yandereunsolved Summary: Dean is trapped in a vampire's den and becomes a human juice box. He's certain Sam and Cas will eventually save him but after time goes on he grapples with a haunting realization—does he even want to be saved anymore? || NSFW || TW: stockholm syndrome, blood, psychological manipulation, dark themes.

Dean's reality had narrowed to three things: the copper taste flooding his mouth, the cold stone beneath his knees, and the sweet melodic call of surrender.

The dim lighting flickered overhead as his body sagged with exhaustion. The metallic taste of the air reminded him of what they'd taken from him. What they kept taking. The stone floor beneath him was cold enough to send shivers through his bones, but he barely noticed anymore. His mind was static—white noise

—radio silent.

His arms hung uselessly at his sides, each heartbeat sending a dull throb through his veins.

Empty. So empty.

He perked up as the click of heels against stone drew closer—deliberate, unhurried. The vampire moved like smoke, her leather-clad figure cutting through the shadows as if they belonged to her. When she crouched before him, her crimson eyes caught the light, reflecting an ancient hunger.

"You fought so hard in the beginning," she mused, tracing his jawline with ice-cold fingers. "And now look at you—trembling at my touch, craving it." she tilted his face up, soaking in his glazed expression.

Dean stared back at her through half-lidded eyes, exhaustion and anger warring in his expression. But beneath it all, buried under layers of denial, lurked something even worse—something that looked too much like need.

"I'm not your pet," he spat, but the words felt hollow—mechanical, like he was reading from a script he'd long forgotten the meaning of. His body betrayed him, too weak to match even this small defiance. Too weak to pretend.

She smiled—that knowing, predatory smile that made his stomach twist with fear, hatred, …and something else… Her fingers traced along his jaw, and he hated how he leaned into the touch. Hated how his body sought the comfort his mind still tried to reject.

"Oh, but you are, Dean." She carded her fingers through his hair, gentle—always so gentle now. Like he was something precious. Something worth preserving.

"The great Dean Winchester, brought low. A hunter turned… sustenance." Her voice dipped lower, intimate. "Isn't that poetic?"

His jaw clenched, muscle jumping beneath her touch. The fight was there—somewhere—buried under layers of fog and need and confusion. Days bled into weeks, marked only by the rhythm of feeding and recovery. Of meals he couldn't refuse, rich with flavors he'd never allowed himself before. Of attention he'd never thought he deserved.

He was starting to forget why he should refuse any of it, and wasn't that just fucking perfect?

She leaned closer, her breath cool against his ear. The scent of her—leather and copper and something sweet he couldn't name—made his head spin.

Or maybe that was just the blood loss.

"You're strong enough to keep going," she whispered, "but not strong enough to resist. That's what makes you perfect." Her nails scraped lightly against his scalp. "You can't fight me anymore, can you?"

A shudder ran through him—pleasure or revulsion, he couldn't tell anymore. Didn't want to tell. Part of him screamed to fight, to rage, to remember who he was. But that voice grew fainter with each passing day, drowned out by exhaustion and a desperate, shameful need for the strange peace he'd found here.

She wasn't just his captor anymore. She was his anchor in this fucked up yet heavenly existence—this place where he didn't have to be strong, didn't have to save everyone, didn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

The leader rose, her absence leaving him cold. "Rest now, my little hunter. You've earned it." With a wave of her hand, the other vampires melted away into the shadows, leaving Dean alone with the weight of his surrender.

He slumped against the wall, head falling back as his eyes fluttered closed. Somewhere out there, Sam and Cas were searching. He knew they were. The thought should have given him strength, should have fueled his resistance. Instead, it felt distant—like a fairy tale.

Because here, in this prison that felt less like a cage each day, he wasn't running. Wasn't hunting. Here, he was simply… existing.

And the worst part?

The part that made him dig his nails into his palms until they left crescents of pain?

He was starting to prefer it this way.

or maybe that was just the blood loss.

۶ৎ pt.1 ..?

[brotherconstant]

it was a relief and a horror to be known so perfectly.

[thewhumperinwhite]

Karim found some of the changes quite stressful at first. Good thing he had a caring Father to help him with the transition :)

Required listening is Drop the Mirror by Missy Higgins

Closeup on Karim's face under the cut cause he came out cute :)

[nazali]

what do you call a group of vampires. a swarm? a colony? a flock? here is my gaggle of fledglings from vtmb

template cred.

[twistedcharismaaa]

Menace Pt. 5

Summary: A supernatural journey starring Masego (Micah Davis) and Tanerélle (Velvet).

Author’s Note: Hi guyssssss! I’m back with an update (finally)! I hope you all are well!! I miss you guys! I’m so excited and incredibly nervous for you all to read this since it’s been a minute! But anyways, I hope you all do enjoy! I love and appreciate you guys!!! Please don’t forget to leave a comment for ya girl! I live for the commentary!!!! Enjoy!!!!

Lilah flew out of the portal like a bat out of hell nearly knocking Elaya over. Elaya caught her in her arms and held her steady. Her eyes widened at the sight of her. Lilah was beaten, bruised, and covered in some type of green substance. Her breathing was heavy and erratic and the words spewing out of her mouth didn’t make sense. With a sense of urgency, Lilah weakly wrapped her hands around Elaya’s forearms and held on tightly. Elaya could feel her fingernails digging into her flesh.

“M-Masego needs your help,” Lilah stuttered. “H-He sent that thing to help him. She’s going to kill him. She’s a beast that can’t be trusted,” Lilah informed.

“You’re not making any sense. Let me get you to the water! I can heal you there. Just hold on, Lilah you have to hold on!” Elaya shouted.

“There’s no time,” Lilah breathed, before falling limp in her arms.

“Fuck that. We’ll make time,” Elaya assured Lilah.

— (Back at Lilah’s Club)

With one swift, harsh strike Velvet’s claws impaled her opponent's skin tearing through it as if it was paper. Using her inhuman strength she pushed him with one hand and watched him fly across the room like a one-winged bird. She charged after him like like an animalistic stampede. With much relief, Masego quickly stood to his feet and tried to heal his wound as much as possible with the little magic he had left. He closed the portal the moment he realized that Lilah passed through it safely. He was magically weak and humanly injured but his job was far from finished. He needed to rescue what was left of Lilah’s coven and protect the last of the enchanted beings that were stuck in the madness of it all. He had to think of a plan and he had to think fast.

Velvet attacked the Diamond-fanged vampire with the force of a thousand suns meeting him strike for strike and blow for blow. Her skin and her garments were tainted with blood and her fangs were in full bloom. She tried everything in her power to defeat him but it seemed as if nothing worked. She felt herself growing more and more frustrated and of course, this amused him. With ease, the vampire caught Velvet’s punch in his hand and immediately pulled her towards him. He grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her head backward. He sniffed along her neck and smiled widely fully displaying his teeth. He chuckled along her pigment as his nose to trailed her skin. He watched the goosebumps form one by one as she struggled underneath him. The smell of fear oozing through Velvet’s pores was almost intoxicating. He wetted his lips with his tongue before puncturing her neck with his teeth. Velvet screamed in agony as she wrestled against him in hopes of breaking free.

As soon as Masego heard Velvet’s scream, he sprinted into action.

“Forgive me, elders,” he whispered, as he simultaneously grabbed the first random vampire he saw. Quickly, he placed both hands around the creature’s head and held on tightly. He looked into his eyes and cast a forbidden spell - the spell of Consumption. This was more dangerous than channeling another’s energy. Channeling required two witches to pull on each other’s strength until they created a joint power source of their own. But consumption required a witch to drain one’s life source until they temporarily became them. Even the strongest of witches failed to complete this spell without consequence. Masego hated that he had to perform a spell so dark but he was magically weak and could not generate his own power.

As he cast the spell, he felt his sense of self leaving him silently like a leaf floating in the wind. Soon, fangs were born out of his lips, his physique changed, and his eyes darkened with rage. He consumed everything until the vampire that stood in front of him was no more. He absorbed his strength, his agility, and most importantly his thirst for blood. And just like that, a new monster was created. Like a lion in the jungle, Masego was completely in his element killing every vampire in sight. Screams of anguish filled the vacant air like smoke.

——

The Diamond-fanged vampire ripped his teeth out of Velvet’s neck and smiled down at her with much satisfaction.

“I suppose you should know my name now that we’ve gotten to know each other more intimately. You can call me Airris,” he said arrogantly.

Before Airris could speak again, he was interrupted. Before his very eyes, he watched dead vampires fall from the balcony like shooting stars by the hand of one man. He squinted in confusion as he leaned forward desperately trying to get a better look at this audacious being. His eyes widened in astonishment. It was Masego. Velvet realized that Airris had become distracted and there was no better opportunity than now to try to break free from his grasp. With all her might, Velvet pushed Airris away as she palmed her bleeding neck. She watched him forcefully fly across the room until he slammed into the white wall behind him. Cracks formed throughout the wall like tree vines stretching far and wide until they reached the ceiling. Soon after, trickles of dust fell from above landing on Velvet’s skin like snow.

The floor rumbled underneath everyone’s feet like an earthquake. This quickly gained Masego’s attention. With ease, he killed the last vampire from Airris’ army and looked at the ceiling with concerned eyes. He realized that Lilah’s club was going to collapse any minute now. Instinctively, using his borrowed vampire abilities he quickly gathered the wounded and lead them out of the exits to safety. Quickly, he darted back inside to get Velvet. He dodged falling debris with finesse as he proceeded toward Velvet. When Masego finally, reached her, he shouted.

“Velvet, we gotta go! This thing is going to collapse!”

“Not yet!” Velvet shouted back as she jolted towards Airris. He was trapped under a large piece of rubble. Before Velvet, could take off, she felt Masego’s hand palm hers.

“We gotta go!” He repeated as he tugged her arm.

“Not yet,” she repeated but this time more stern.

Masego’s nostrils  flared as he spoke. His voice was filled with agagitation.

“You’re not thinking clearly! You’re going to get yourself killed!” He expressed anxiously.

“If you wanna go, then go!” Velvet yelled.

Still holding onto Velvet’s hand, Masego sighed.

“We’ll do it together,” he stated.

Velvet nodded. “Let’s go!” she answered.

“A lover’s quarrel over little old me?” Airris jested. “I should be honored,” he added as he finally broke free. Airris was beaten, bruised, and wounded but he still stood tall.

Instantly, Masego and Velvet sprinted into battle. Together, they gave everything that they had. Both of them struck Airris with deadly blows. The more Velvet fought the madder she became. She unleashed a rage that she didn’t know she had. Her eyes began to glow a bright white and her hair shifted from a deep rich black to a greyish white. Her claws grew longer and transformed into swords. Instinctively, Velvet stabbed Airris in the stomach with her left hand and then she stabbed him in the heart with her right. The moment Velvet struck Airris, his eyes grew wide and instantly filled with fear. He opened his mouth to speak but to his surprise, no words came out.

“Uh. Uh. Shut up nigga,” Masego said, before kicking Airris in the back of his legs forcing him to collapse to his knees. Masego squatted in front of Airris and aggressively grabbed his chin compelling him to look him in the eye. Within seconds, Airris's body fell limp and the life drained out of his eyes. Soon after, Velvet yanked her hands out of Airris’s corpse and watched her hands slowly return back to their normal form silently in confusion. A sense of relief washed over Masego as he stood to his feet towering over his defeated enemy but unfortunately, it did not last for long. The ceiling completely gave way falling into large pieces that quickly blocked both exits to the club.

“Shit!,” Masego muttered.

Naturally, Masego grabbed Velvet’s hand as his eyes searched for security. To his misfortune, he discovered that there was no way out. As soon as Masego quietly came to full terms with his fate, a portal flashed before him. He recognized the portal instantly, his coven came to save him.

“Thank God!” he said, before entering the portal with Velvet. —---

Part 4.2

@ghostfacekill-monger @chaneajoyyy @l-auteuse

@soloperator @19jammmy @soulfuljas @sheabuttahwrites @thadelightfulone

@isisafrofairy @blackburnbook @neeville @nelleana

@theboldlady @geriixox @errin261 @mooon-berry

@just-juicee @teardropzih @highasfantasy

@savagescorpion @xxariaxxaxx

@themajesticnigerian @miyahmaraj @theholytrinity

@theconsciousrebel @squigglyemotions

@theycallmechanty @satabandO @gbdinfinitedrill

@nzia-writes @justanothernerdgirl @fendionmyfeet @pinkthongs @mindnmybidness @tgigoldie @charismablu

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Arthur: Micah is the rat!

Dutch: What?

Arthur: C'mon, it's obvious! You must know!

Dutch:

Arthur: MICAH HAS BEEN TALKING TO MILTON! HE'S THE TRAITOR!

Javier: Wait...You're saying that the rat and Micah...

Bill: Have a connection?

Dutch: Well what could that possibly be?!

Everyone:

Arthur: Is everyone here god damn stoned?!

[dantiiart]

twinning

icon sketches of micah (he/him) & maren (she/her)

✧ Commissions ✧ Carrd

[bonyfish]

I saw this post and immediately knew I would have to draw Micah in Sexy Vampire Singlet Costume for Men. I highly recommend drawing your vampire (and/or vampire-adjacent) OCs in the most ridiculous vampire Halloween costume you can find. It's enrichment.

[kachowden]

Please I need ANYTHING with Mickey I have a weakness for gingers and I want him to exploit that

A/N: You can consider this canon or non canon.

Tw: Mickey kinda weirdo ngl

“Sugar? You think you can help me with that barrel over there?”

You peaked up from the book you had lost yourself in, gazing at the cowboy who was currently cuttin up some wood for the barbecue you were plannin later.

“Sure thing Mic.”

“Mickey.”

You paused, a soft laugh pouring out of your throat that had the pale southerner lookin to the side shyly.

“Right Mickey, my bad.”

With a dramatic groan you pulled yourself out of your hammock, and trudged your way over to the wine barrel Mic- mickey, had set aside for you.

You eyed it for a moment, figuring out the best way to get this thing moving while a certain cowboy stared you down.

Pushing up the sleeves of your flannel, you crouched down, lodging your fingers under one side of the barrel, and propping the rest on the top side.

With a deep breath you pulled the barrel up into the air before catching it, bridal style in your arms and heading towards the cellar.

Cerulean eyes dilated while watching you work.

His addams apple bobbed down slowly with a thick swallow as he gazed at your forearms and sweaty neck.

Fuck your were Goddamn hot.

He could practically feel his dead heart thundering within his chest.

Watching you work always brought out something primal in him. He didn’t know what to be honest. Maybe it was the sound and sight of your blood rushing. Maybe watching your muscles flex was what gave him that fluttering feeling.

Maybe. Maybe he wanted you to toss him around like that sometimes too.

When you finally set down the barrel, you yelped slightly at the shadowing presence that squished its into your back, trapping you against the barrel.

“Mickey! what the hell-“

His gaze made you blink. Once. Twice. Nope still there.

His eyes were lidded, hazed over, and you couldn’t tell if they were even looking at you at this point. He looked like he was zoning out.

But that shouldn’t have been the case. Not with the way his rough hands began trailing up your forearms. Mapping out each vein and divet. Each bruise or scar from the hard labour you put in while on the farm.

His breath poured over your cheek, and you cringed inwardly at the feeling of the pink cowboy taking a deep breath.

His fingers played with the sleeves of your shirt, tugging and pulling, pushing them up to expose more skin and then pulling them back down as if it was lewd.

You didn’t really know what to make of this behavior.

You’re shoulders shook slightly, when his hands finally met at your neck, and peeled down the fabric of your shirt, watching with bated breath as it slide down your shoulders.

“Uh…Mic-“

“Mickey.”

It was practically a growl now, that burned your ear when he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your jaw, and nearly making you shoulder him in the eye if it weren’t for his steady grip on you.

“You smell so pretty sweetheart…”

You laughed awkwardly.

“Sweetheart? Sugar? What happened to kid mic-Mickey?”

Something akin to a quiet groan pulled out of his throat as he pressed himself further into your backside.

“No…you’re not a kid Y/n…not anymore..”

Creepy as hell

The feeling of cold lips on your skin made you stutter on your breath, your head trying to whip around and see whatever the hell this psychotic cowboy was up to.

“Y/n….”

You paused. Foolishly.

“Yeah…?”

“Just….just one bite…just one okay? You think you can do that for me sweetheart?” His voice had dipped into a purring lull, and you weren’t completely out of touch with reality to not flush and feel butterflies in your stomach.

The southern twang in his voice was slurred. You didn’t even understand what he was asking, and honestly it seemed like he didn’t either.

“Wh..what do you mean…?”

Something sharp dragged lightly up your neck, followed by the wet cold feeling of a tongue and hot breath. You shivered, uncomfortably? you weren’t sure.

“Just stay still sweetheart…”

“Wh- OW”

Thwack!

“MICKEY WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

[igotsnothing]

[Blood ] ♫ LIUFO ♫ 0:58 ──⚬──── 2:54 ⇆ ◃◃ ıı ▹▹ ↻

Hey, @thebramblewood! Are you still looking for vamps for the party in your story? If you'd like this guy, I'll send him right over. (Thanks to @greighish for making me aware of this challenge!)