#mod888

[visceral-reject]

STILL GREEN

RZ! Michael Myers, AFAB Reader, Feminine Terminology Used, reader is lowkey highkey delusional

Green.

Green like freshness.

Green like new.

Green like envy.

Green like the jealous pit that lingered within his stomach every time he saw you talking to the neighbors. The same pit that ever only grew in size when it concerned you. You, his darling little mouse, so friendly, so kind. It’s what drew him to you, you know. Kindness wasn’t something that stayed within Smith’s Grove, nor was it catered to. Kindness was snuffed out, diminished at the first sign, but not you. Never you. It was an honest mistake really, you being there. Taking the fall for something someone else did, so valiant weren’t you? Oh, and then you met Michael. Just a boy he was, barely breaching 5’8 at the time, and then you came in, practically skipping. You were a mere year younger than him at the most. The nurses, god fucking damn those nurses, were rough with you, he was and would never be rough with you. Michael watched, a lot. He likes to watch you. You’re quite pleasing to look at in his eyes. You were kind to everyone despite everything the staff and patients did to you. You, his own personal sun, his warmth in this filth-ridden world.

You were his.

And he was your’s.

After your departure from Smith’s Grove, a sad day indeed. You didn’t leave Haddenfield. In fact, you moved back into your old house, fell back into a steady routine. It stayed like that for a good few years, you shedded that girlish immaturity of your’s. But you remained kind, warm. Your days at Smith’s Grove weren’t forgotten, your mind lingered on the boy you’d tried to befriend those handful of years ago sometimes you’d try and visit, though once again in vain. Soon, you moved on, or tried to. You lead a simple life, one that suited you. Work and home. That’s mostly what your days consisted of. Though the news blaring of a highly dangerous patient’s escape from the Sanatarium. Though the name was what made you drop the glass you’d been washing.

Michael fucking Myers.

Any normal person would be scared, terrified even. But you? Not a thing, well not a thing any one word could describe. He was alive after all of this? Something, a small string in your heart pulled for him. You knew how the staff treated the patients within those walls, how they treated Michael. It made you sick, and the memory of Dr.Loomis’s ‘interviews’ left you scarred. Michael was young then, still a boy.

The days were long, dull. Blending together with one another. People’s fear left them paranoid, and paranoia leads to other erratic behavior. Just the other hour an older couple practically had a melt down when they say some kid’s preparing for Halloween. It was sad, but not any of your business. Still, you continued your routine. Though your garden needed tending to. It was something you’d picked up from a grandparent, now it was just something to keep you busy, something to care for. The crisp October air was a pleasantry you’d taken comfort in, letting you wear your comfort jumpers to your hearts content. You knelt, the cold dirt hardened as you plucked at the weeds, tugging a few carrots, and clipping sweet peppers for dinner, though a chill ran down your spine. Not of fear, no, but of a feeling of being stalked. Like prey sensing their impending doom at the awaiting jaws of a predator. You straightened your back, head turning to study the surrounding neighbor’s yards and short stretch of wood.

The hair on the back of your neck bristled.

Him.

Michael was big, bigger than you thought a man could get. An orange mask covered his features, but even then you remembered those eyes. Oh his eyes.. Dr.Loomis was wrong, at least to you. Because Michael looked at you you’d hung the stars and moon themselves, like you were the holy being prophesied to save him. But in a blink, he was gone. You’d think yourself crazy had it not been for his eyes. The same eyes you’d felt drawn to in your youth.

That night you found little sleep. Creaking of your house made his presence know. He wanted you to know. Michael knew how to be quiet, how to make himself invisible, but he wanted you to know he was looming just a few feet away.

“ Michael. “ you announced, voice hoarse. The creaking stopped.

~Time Skip~

You’d gotten used to Michael’s presence, sure, the fact he’d eat any and everything sweet within your house and the neighbor’s was a bit..odd, but everyone has their quirks right? Some days, he’d stand behind you whilst you cooked, almost close enough to touch you. It took a long while to build that up, you weren’t complaining. But Michael was greedy. He wanted everything from you and more, it was the least he was owed after you left Smith’s right? It was the least you could do for him after he keeps your house protected! He encroached slowly, it started off with simple touches on your ankle, then you’d awake with his hand on the inside of your knee and so forth. And here you were now, underneath the mountain you called your house husband.

Michael’s cock throbbed in your heat, this was what? Your fifth orgasm? Sixth? Neither one of you cared enough to keep count. You were so faced out, crossed eyed and drooling at this point, and Michael was panting, guttural moans bordering whine erupting from his throat. He’d mumble what sounded like broken sounds of your name and ‘mine’, you couldn’t quite make it out even if you weren’t so cock-drunk. Michael’s hand crept from beside your head and made its way to your throat, he didn’t choke you, simply felt how small you were compared to him. How delicate you were beneath him. All his. The mere thought has his cock aching, and the look you gave him was delectable. Your perfect lips parted, he stilled. Awaiting your words with a bated breath. “ Please, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-“ you begged. The sweet whines you gave Michael were his salvation. You were his heaven begging him for entry. You were his God. His Heaven, his Hell. All gift wrapped into one, perfectly flawed being and all his for the taking. Michael groaned, a guttural sound, his head falling beside your’s, his dark blond locks falling over his face. The night was still young, and your pleas only egged him on further.

Michael’s thrusts quickened, his tip kissing your womb. He could feel you getting close, after all your were practically milking his cock as it was, but now? Your weeping cunt was like a vice. You wrapped you legs around his broad waist, whining and keening for him to bring you past the edge again, despite being so sensitive already. Needy baby, weren’t you? Michael smiled, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as you came. Your vision turned white as you tightened your legs around Michael, spent body trembling as you began to go limp. Michael’s head rose from your shoulder, blood staining his teeth as he stared you down, his eyes blown with lust. His kiss swollen lips quivering lips muttering silent words before uttering a statement that had your core aching once more.

“ Not done. “

Author’s Comments: OKAY SOOOO I’m a day behind and it’ll most likely stay that way because my schedule this month is packed as hell already. Mod 800 is currently on break for reasons I will not disclose nor discuss and I will most likely be handling the rest of KinkTober. This is kinda rushed and once again English is neither Mods first languages so please be considerate. Thank you ghoulies!

Signing off,

Mod 888

[888-cr33ps]

She’s a lil emo guys

lies

Artist Commentary: Okay, this piece is a very loose representation of how others view Erin within her life, with the hands representing the colors of lies. With white, gray, red, and black. I’ll be leaving the exact meaning to the viewer. Erin is given a more casual appearance in contrast to her usually well thought out attire. This is a motif to her declining mental and physical state at that point in time the image is meant to depict. She wears longer clothes, a way I meant to depict as her closing herself away from the people around her. Her iconic hat is no pictured, this is due to derealization. Erin looses identity and security as the story progresses, thus the hat (representing herself on an inner level) and it being the first to go. But I leave the rest up to the viewer.

[visceral-reject]

soooooo I dont usually ask on blogs but I just now find yours and this silly thought has been marinating in my brain. HABIT with his little bunny lover on maybe valentine's day, or an other special day, and you surprise him by wearing those sexy bunny costumes with the ears yk Idk something like that, I hope your not to busy or anything but do whatever type of thing you want with this idea. I just really like your writing, it's so good ❤

I’m so sorry to have not gotten to this sooner TvT, I’ve been struck with a really bad bout of writer’s block and only recently got out of it! But I adore this ask sm <3 - Mod 888

General Headcanons

Evan would love this. I’m talking littering your skin with kisses and praise practically flowing from his mouth. Habit, on the other hand, would stalk you from afar. If he didn’t like it, he’d tell you.

They both didn’t really pay much attention to Valentine’s Day, referring to it as a ‘corporate holiday’, but with you? They’ll blow all their money plus their friend’s cash on anything you lay your eyes on.

Habit takes a more..him approach. He’ll stalk towards you and shove his face in the nape of your neck, simply breathing you in before he starts to nibble.

Evan, god bless him. He’s such a golden retriever doing anything and everything you tell him to, all with a dork-like smile plastered over his face.

NSFW BELOW

I think Habit gets a little a lot to into the whole rabbit thing, so in my opinion he leans more towards prey-predator dynamics. He’ll take his time stalking you and attempting to lure you into his “nest” so he can properly breed you “ like a good little rabbit” in his words. Doesn’t matter what kind of bits you have, Habit is thoroughly obsessed with the idea of breeding his significant other. Habit will make a point of having you keep your little costume on, hell, he’ll record it for his own use later on if he wishes (consensually ofc). Habit lives for adrenaline, so be prepared to run by the way.

Evan on the other hand, is a lot sweeter and kinder with his endeavors. He’s still rather dominant in my opinion, but more so leaning towards a pleasure/service dom. His pleasure derives from your’s. He’ll have your legs shaking from his mouth alone before he even begins to think about putting his cock inside of you. I fully stand by both Habit and Evan having a thing for watching you cry from overstimulation from their tongue. Argue with a wall <3.

Now both? You’re fucked. Habit is feral and Evan is controlled chaos? But both? You’re legs are trembling before the night is over.

Safe to say they both really like the bunny get up.

Author’s Comments: Heya Ghoulies! 888 here, and we’d both like to profusely apologize for our lack of content. As we have jobs and schooling to attend to in our personal lives. We are trying to get caught up and clear our inbox before October so we can work exclusively on KinkTober! This is rather short, but I’m getting back into the hang of writing in English and grammar TvT. Happy Nights and with that, I bid adieu!

[visceral-reject]

do you accept writing commissions? I’ve seen your art ones and I absolutely LOV3 your writing style ^^

I’ve been toying with the idea of taking writing commissions, but in a brief answer yes, I do accept writing comms ^^.

A contract will be writing after I clock out but here’s a brief pricing guide down below:

1,000 - 1,500: $10

1,501 - 2,000: $15

2,001 - 2,500: $20

2,501 - 3,000: $25

3,001+: $30+

DRABBLES:

50-200: $5

201-350: $10

ONESHOTS

400-620: $12

Limitations

- I will not write gore or NSFW for minors, unless you can confirm your age, the story will be PG.

- Piss/Scat, I don’t kink shame but I’m not comfortable with writing that.

Further information,

- Please describe what you’re looking for, the more specific the better, I’m more than willing to create moodboards to better push your ideas. Tips are appreciated but not required and please understand that writing takes time!

- SFW and NSFW have no discount or extra fees.

And that’s all I have for right now, I’ll be working on a fleshed out contract shortly.

[visceral-reject]

SILENT NIGHTS

A/N: hello ghoulies resident mom over this blog, aka Mod888, and I’d like to thoroughly apologize for our lack of posting. My health hasn’t been the best as of late and with schooling piling up on both of us, we thought we should take a break in order to push out content we’re both happy with! Please enjoy and forgive me as this is it’s been a while. ~ Mod888

CW: HABIT an Evan are dicks ngl, sub!afab!reader, reader isn’t ,human (ngl this might be a second part to Forelsket), choking, spanking, slight bondage, spit kink, slight size kink

his hand was cold as it crept up your throat, the calloused fingers mopping out your jugular with light touches, a stark contrast to the hand buried in your hair, scratching at your scalp with blunt nails. It would almost be comforting if not for your current…position. Your knees would surely be aching and bruised in the morning, but you couldn’t, more akin to wouldn’t complain, not like you could with Evan’s cold hand now clamped over your lips.

“ you know, I think I like you better when you’re quiet bun. It’s so much better when you’re not running that bratty fucking mouth. “ Evan, or what was masquerading around New Jersey as him, gave a loose grin as he worked his fingers into your scalp. Some might wonder why you stayed, and the answer was simple really. Evan dicked you down better than anyone else.

you fought against biting his finger, you really did. it was honestly a sad sight, you beneath Evan with one hand wrapped around your throat almost daring you to move without his word to. The image the mirror reflected had you rubbing your thighs together, aching for the least bit of friction. Evan laughed, a sharp, mocking sound from his chest. He knew you liked this, you liked him taking your breath away, like the way his hands looked wrapped around your pretty throat that’d been marked seven ways to Sunday with hickies and bite marks. You liked everything he gave to you. The hand around your throat retreated, not without protest from you, though you found your pouting cut short as Evan worked you upon the bed by your head; gentler tugs as stalked around your body. There was a brief moment after your body hit the plush blanket below, and an even briefer moment before your hazy min could register Evan’s body atop of your’s. His chapped lips pressed against your neck as his calloused hands found their home grazing your legs.

“ I know baby, I know how bad you wan’ it right? “ Evan purred into your neck, his breath tickled. He was right about you wanting it, wanting him. You nodded as best as you could, shifting and squirming beneath him. Against you sopping core, you could feel the bulge of his cock. Evan’s shallow thrusts against you made it so much harder to stay quiet, your whines and moans making your lover laugh against your throat. “ Oh baby you’re being so good, tired of being a goddamn brat now that you fucking want something huh? “ you keened as Evan’s hand made it’s way towards your cunt. Evan chuckled as he continued his assault on you delicate neck, before rising to click his tongue. “ Oh no baby, if you want something you have to ask you know that! “ he bellowed. You, deprived of what you ached so badly for whined. Well, cried actually, fat tears welled in your eyes as you blabbered, yet your begging fell upon deaf ears as Evan continued to drag his fingers against your slit, reminding you he’d never willingly give anyone anything, and that included you.

A/N: This is lazy and rushed. I’m sleepy and dealing with family right now so please excuse this horrid thing.

[visceral-reject]

more stoner bf mike headcanons pls! im on my knees! i beg you!

A/N: I got you broski. The brain rot is affecting me to even tho I should be working on this FUCKING WORK- btw these are primarily sfw sighed- Mod888

stoner bf!mike gives me hungry when high vibes so expect to be buying lots of snacks and fast food for him. I see him as a salty kinda ngl.

stoner bf! mike who shotguns you whenever you’re acting like his good baby, and doesn’t laugh when you cough

stoner bf!mike who is perpetually exhausted and is always down for a nap. (me fr)

stoner bf!mike is the definition of a old grumpy cat who hates everyone.

stoner bf! mike who says the most outlandish shit known to man

stoner bf! mike who loves to be the little spoon when he’s high bc everything feels to overwhelming and he just wants to feel safe

stoner bf! mike who just likes kissing you. That’s it

[visceral-reject]

You guys should commission Mod888 👀

lies

Artist Commentary: Okay, this piece is a very loose representation of how others view Erin within her life, with the hands representing the colors of lies. With white, gray, red, and black. I’ll be leaving the exact meaning to the viewer. Erin is given a more casual appearance in contrast to her usually well thought out attire. This is a motif to her declining mental and physical state at that point in time the image is meant to depict. She wears longer clothes, a way I meant to depict as her closing herself away from the people around her. Her iconic hat is no pictured, this is due to derealization. Erin looses identity and security as the story progresses, thus the hat (representing herself on an inner level) and it being the first to go. But I leave the rest up to the viewer.