#vampire!michael myers

[megangovier]

Vampire Michael🤤😍

One of my favourite fanfics!!😌💕

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! Thanks for being an engaged reader.

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 versions of the pic i cobbled together lol

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

[extremelyrottenfleshh]

[filthyslashertoad]

Slasher First Date Headcannons

Oh yeah guys, guess who’s adding more characters! ME!!!! So…introducing…PETER STRAHM AND… MARK HOFFMAN!!!! (air horn noises)

Also just to be clear I’m writing for lestat and Louis from the movie NOT THE TV SHOW(It’s just not that good imo)

Peter Strahm

Is a hopeless romantic that 100% believes in love at first sight.

Talks way too much and gets very passionate when sharing his own interests.

Is the type to bring you multiple different flowers because he wasn't sure what you'd like.

Prefers first dates to be at restaurants or cafes.

Mark Hoffman

Is an asshole to you the first time he meets you because he thinks that it counts as flirting?

Quickly becomes absolutely enamored by you and wants to know everything about you.

The day after he definitely finds you walking down the street and blares his sirens to get your attention and say some cheesy pickup line to ask you out on another date.

Michael Myers

The closest you're gonna get to a first date with him is him showing up at your house and eating all of your food while staring at you from a nearby hallway.

Don't expect a first date kiss, but do expect a sentimental staring contest before he leaves.

Amanda Young

Your first date was probably being in a jigsaw trap she either made for you or both of you being in the same trap. (She doesn't have much of a social life)

Quickly becomes attached to you and goes out of her way to make you survive the trap.

Bo Sinclair

Hits on you when you pass through the town and invites you to have a picnic on his lunch break(Which consists of beer, crackers, a few blueberries, beer, and hotdogs)

Tells you all about mechanic stuff and some of the prettier parts of the town.

After lunch, he invites you to go out with him if you're passing through(fixes your car for free).

Vincent Sinclair

Teaches you how to make candles and mini wax figurines. (It's harder than it looks)

Makes a tiny doll version of you and him and gives them to you.

Not much talking happens during the date(obviously) but he makes up for it with hand gestures.

Patrick Bateman

Hears one of his buddies talking about you and how beautiful you are and automatically decides he needs you to be his girlfriend.

Pulls out the nines, I'm talking Dior suit, Givenchy shoes, and he even buys new hair gel before your date so he looks as fresh as possible.

Will most likely talk almost the entire date about his accomplishments while using business jargon.

Lestat(Interview with a Vampire)

Most likely had the intention of seducing you to suck your blood but realized that you had more to you than what seemed.

Invites you to go to the opera with him and Louis but ends up taking you to a much more secluded section of the opera house.

Wants to turn you into a vampire on the first date(I don't even know what base that reaches)

Louis(Interview with a Vampire)

Isn't much of a romantic(anymore) so it's more so a deep conversation shared between the two of you in a beautiful garden.

Asks you what it's like to be human and what you admire about life.

Gives you a bouquet of his favorite roses as a surprise.

Michael Emerson

Wants to really really impress you so he takes you to a bunch of places that are "hidden" and brings a bunch of snacks. (Doesn't mind also going to see a movie)

Definitely tries to kiss you on the first date.

After your date Sam teases him all night about his crush on you.

[hellgirl666xx]

[lorimnnn]

masterlist + about me !!!

𝐈’𝐦 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐧!! ♥ 

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!  𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬. 

𝐒𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫, 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫:

SLASHERS (films):

Michael Myers (Halloween)

Hyperfemme Bimbo Girlfriend

Ex-Babysitter!Reader part 1

Ex-Babysitter!Reader part 2

Ex-Babysitter!Reader part 3

Ex-Babysitter!Reader part 4

*part 5 has been in my drafts for so long... I’m so super sorry! If you were waiting this whole time, unfortunately I don’t think I will ever finish it or release it :(

Sinclair Brothers (House of Wax)

Reverse Harem Drabble!

Ghostface (Scream)

Ethan Landry Drabble

Leatherface (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)

Harry Warden (My Bloody Valentine)

KILLERS (dbd):

Ghostface

Unrequited Love

Crybaby Reader

Trickster

Crybaby Reader

The Oni

Reader takes off their shoes!

Taking pity on a new survivor

The Huntress

Taking pity on a new survivor

The Hillbilly

Taking pity on a new survivor

The Wraith

The Trapper

The Knight

MARVEL

YANDERE IMAGINES 

Nerd!Yandere 

Your man’s the only one who knows you’re a freak

MONSTERFUCKER IMAGINES (COMING SOON)

Mermaid!Yandere 

Werewolf!Yandere

ALIENFUCKER IMAGINES (COMING SOON)

DRABBLES

Asking your man to slap you a little

I wanna be fucked like you’re the slut!

Thinking about a forbidden man who matches your freak

CONFESSIONS OF A ROMANTIC (COMING SOON)

This is a new section I want to experiment with. See, my special interest is love in all forms. The yearning kind, the pining kind, the crush kind, even the unrequited kind. Sometimes the obsessive kind.

When you’re writing a lot of demented, unhinged fiction and sort of marinating in very specific hashtags, it becomes so easy to lose touch with reality. I’ve seen a scary amount of new-gen femcels spawn as a result of the past few years, and I want my space to be an occasional reminder that real love exists too. Assuming that you might scroll and scroll and scroll my feed, I want you to stumble upon a real, authentic snapshot of feeling in it’s rawest, truest form. Please send messages about how much you love your partner! The romantic tea brewing in your life! All of the above! 

If this doesn’t work out, then I don’t mind. But I’d love to see where it goes.

ASK BOX

Finally, my inbox is open! I’m mostly open to any kinds of requests, but I have a few absolute no-nos. If you intend to send in a request, please read!

No pedophilia. Age gap is okay but for all ancient beings for example, the reader will not be ‘small, petite and skinny’. i know what you’re doing.

No piss/fecal kinks (however, period kinks are okay)

No discrimination (racism, ableism, homophobia etc.)

Please be polite! 

𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬?

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞!

[thehalloweenhub]

Happy Haunting!

Here’s what currently streaming to help with your 31 nights of Halloween. 🎃

[demonspeeding666]

I found these horror memes

[slasherboy-brainrot]

you don't understand, i don't think i can fix them; i want them to stab me

you're forgetting i'm mentally ill here

[wyrm-wuud]

stupid experience i had last night- I was CACKLING

[melancholicsolace]

i’m new to tumblr, so i wanted to introduce myself (and maybe find some mutuals, lol).

i’m jo (she/her | usa | late 20s)

nice to meet you!!!

i mostly do traditional art, but i’m currently learning digital too! (some of my art is posted above!). i'll be posting a lot of my original and fan art on here (: i hope to make some new artist friends too

i’m super into music and movies—lots of my work is inspired by my favorite musicians, actors, and characters!!

fav genres: rock, metal, grunge, alt, k-pop, pop, 70s/80s music, classic rock

🎤some fav music artists/bands: alice in chains, death, the cure, ville valo / HIM, seventeen, britney spears, incubus, system of a down, loona, chevelle, and so so many more!

🎬 fav movies: john wick franchise, interview with the vampire, skyfall, the polar express, the haunted mansion (2003), alien (1979), halloween (1978), the equalizer franchise, titanic, a bronx tale, mean girls, bratz (2007), and so many more lol

🧃 also into: y2k + early 2000s vibes (bratz dolls, fashion, movies, music, etc)

(sorry for all the tags. i'm trying to reach people lol)

[mr-dead-inside]

[cassandraillustrates]

Days 25-31 of Retrosupply’s art challenge

And we are DONE with art challenge 2023!

I did prepare sketches a month ahead so as to not stress about what to draw, but first day of the challenge I scrapped all that and decided to draw these kids as the main focus in these silly scenarios. So I ended up stressing anyway and fell behind a week, but powered through a weekend and caught up.

There are a few that are lackluster from literally having no idea what to draw and wanted to skip the prompt so badly, but I refused to skip any days. 😤

Happy Halloween!

Next year I’ll for sure be more prepared !

Days 1-10

Days 11-16

Days 17- 24

[spookychick78]

OG!Michael Myers X Fem!Vampire

Michael & The Vampire PT 2

Thought I'd bring the vampire back, it is October after all. Thinking about doing a little series with these two, let me know if y'all want some more with Michael and his vampy girl in the comments. Also, I may have gotten a little carried away with this one and it maaaay be like... over 5000 words. Anyway, stay spooky and enjoy. 🧛🏻‍♀️

WARNINGS: 18+, bloody af, rough sex, death, graphic depictions of violence.

Word Count: 5,751

Michael stood silent as ever. His brows furrowed with intrigue behind the pale rubber of his mask. He was observing something he'd contemplated for quite sometime now, he was watching her feed. It started shortly after she'd weaved her way into his daily life, his desire to watch her kill. She fed off of him with such vigor when he allowed her too, as if she had starved a lifetime for his blood, that he couldn't help but wonder what it looked like. It sounded silly, even to him, but one particular time he'd seen the image in the grimy reflection of his childhood home's windows. She was underneath him of course, he hardly ever allowed her to overpower him, but as he watched her nails clutch at the skin around where her teeth had sunk into him, he noticed an urge she was withholding. He hated to admit it, even in the silence of his own mind, but she had great strength. He was well aware he'd met his match and after a brief period of resenting her for it, he'd grown to enjoy it and quite a bit. He could push her well past her limits, bend her, shape her, break her in whichever way he chose. He could kill her, so to speak, bleed her dry and she'd lie there underneath him smiling drunkenly as he did so. She could easily do the same, occasionally she'd remind him of that, just as she did then. He watched her dig into him, that grip of her's turned deadly, he not only saw it, he felt it. It was absentminded for her, a byproduct of the potency of his blood. It brought her a high like no other, perhaps in reality, that was what kept her around. Not so much love, but blood lust for him and only him. Her eyes fluttered open to catch him studying her so intently and she grinned at their reflection. The small dribble of his own blood that ran down the side of her mouth made his breath quicken. He could have watched it for hours, but unlike her, Michael did have his limits as far as blood loss went. If she got ahead of herself, drank too much his eyes would fall shut and unconsciousness would overtake him. He would live of course, but he'd wake to find that image had been torn away from him, stolen by his own weakness. He wanted to see her finish it, he wanted to see her get her fill. More than anything, Michael wanted to see her kill.

It had taken him sometime to find the will to communicate his desire to her in his own silent way. It proved to be more difficult than he thought it would, as she rarely left the house and more rarer than that, she never brought home victims. She had no need to hunt any longer, he was her personal blood bag and she had enough wherewithal to know that when Michael hunted, he went alone. He never brought home trophies either, so she was quite surprised when he burst through the door dragging a man dressed in a poor excuse for a vampire costume by the hair. She had almost forgotten it was Halloween.

She stood from her usual resting spot on the old dusty couch and sauntered over to the front room to lean her wispy figure against the doorframe. With her arms folded, she smirked as she watched him hurl the man into the bottom of the stairs. Before he could regain his footing, one of Michael's boots rested on his back to press him down on the wood. He turned his head to her and waited for her to catch his drift, but she shook her head.

"Michael, what on earth are you doing?"

The man's struggling disgruntled her and she frowned down at him, "Do you mind?"

It was moments like that when Michael was glad his face remained hidden. If she knew she not only had the power to make Michael weak, but the ability to make him smile, her ego would most likely surpass his own. His eyes were hidden in darkness, just as his smirk was, as he watched her glide closer. She leant down and studied the gift he'd brought her.

"I'm surprised he's still alive," she mused as she reached down and brushed some of his auburn strands out of his eyes, "you don't usually keep pets, Michael."

She allowed the man a smile, revealing the sharp points of her exaggerated canines Michael had come to adore as she studied the man's fake ones, amused. That was when the man fell silent, frozen with fear or disbelief, one of the two. She chuckled before she stood straight once more and folded her arms. The usual smirk she wore when she searched him for words pulled at her lips as her pupils dilated and rendered her eyes glassy. That dark shade of orange began to invade them when Michael reached down and yanked the man upwards, putting further emphasis on his bare neck as he strained in the Shape's grasp. She was getting hungry and it seemed Michael wanted to taunt her. He raised his knife to the man's throat and allowed it to graze the fragile skin that hid his jugular ever so slightly, providing her a glimpse of red that trickled over the metal. Behind his mask, his eyes hadn't left her. He watched, captivated as he always was by something he'd seen her do time and time again. Blood lust had a way of making her ever more alluring. Those strangely illuminated orange eyes of her's widened as she watched those little rubies decorate his blade and her brows began to furrow, pained with want. When they cut back up to him, she scowled and a hiss slipped out past her elongated teeth.

"Don't tease me, Michael," she growled before her tongue slid over them with another glance at the red, "you know I hate it when you do that."

Of course he did. Normally, he'd take it further, use her lust against her and make her beg him to give her what she wanted, but this wasn't about what she wanted. It was about what Michael wanted and he growing impatient with her lack of understanding on the matter. He tossed the delicately bloodied blade at her feet and held her gaze through the black holes of his mask. She knelt down, less graceful than usual as she clamored for the handle, careful not to let a single drop escape the metal. She slowly let her knees find the ground below her, sinking in a sense as her tongue glided up the edge to collect her drug of choice. Michael's breath grew ragged and it hadn't gone unnoticed by her. That smirk returned as she took one last swipe of her tongue up the blade.

"You want me to, don't you? That's what this is about," she said in her sultry tone as her palms found the wooden floor and she began to crawl towards his captive, all the while those orange eyes locked on Michael, "well, why didn't you just say so?"

That remark earned some sort of sound from behind the mask. A quick huff, half amused by her subtle dig at him. She longed for conversation, but that was a long game to be played, something to tease her with for eternity, if he could convince her to grant him with it.

Once she was close enough to take hold of the man, Michael released his grip. Before he could fall face first onto the ground, she was on him. She hadn't taken her time in the slightest as she did when she drank from Michael. There was no wooing, no gentle caresses of her nails along his shoulder blades, it was brutal. Animalistic even, he thought to himself as he watched her grip tighten enough to tear his skin through his sleeves and stain them red. When she stood, he went with her. Michael couldn't tell if his was her hands that brought him up or her teeth. She was latched so deeply, feeding so intensely that it looked as though she'd tear through the area completely and render him headless. He had faded by then, gone limp as she clung to him. She held him in such a strange way, her hands like claws strained and struggled with the fabric of his shirt behind his back as he started to slip from her grasp. He wondered how long it would take for her to drain him completely. He was intrigued by how clean the entire ordeal was, she hadn't spilled a drop. She had been meticulous with him, far different than she was with Michael. With him, she liked to be messy, let him see her covered in blood, but then and there, there was no mess. She had drank every last drop. The wet sounds of her gulping started to die down and were replaced instead with contented sighs as she sat on the very edge of her high, just before his heart finally went silent. With no more pulse to steal, she pulled back. Michael marveled at the way her teeth unsheathed themselves from his now withered skin. Blades of her own, drenched in her preferred wine. Her head fell back as she reveled in the lingering taste and Michael's head in turn, tilted. That intrigue had rearranged itself into admiration, she appeared invincible. Her skin, which normally was pale, colorless, much like that of a corpse, had become vibrant. His life's end had renewed her's and she was radiant, empowered by death's gift to her. She turned to him then, her glowing eyes now more illuminated than before bore into him as a different kind of hunger invaded them. Intrigue of her own captivated her as she rested under his blackened gaze, that thus far hadn't left her. With a grin, she let their shared victim slip from her grasp and fall stiff on the ground. Her attention was all Michael's again as she drifted his way. The only movement she earned as she stepped closer was the subtle tilt of his head, it slowly dipped downward as she situated herself in front of his chest. Her palms rested against the blue fabric, warmer than they usually were as she continued her endeavor to understand why he'd brought her dinner. She delved past those black holes of his, curious when she found the glimmer of hazel hidden within all that darkness. He was focused so intently on her teeth, mesmerized more than usual by them and that curiosity of her's deepened, as did the subtle crease between her illuminated eyes. She reached for one of his arms, that hung stiffly at his sides and brought his hand to her mouth to let his rough skin rest on her open lips.

"What is it you want, Michael?"

Her softly spoken words offered the whisper of cold breath against his flesh and he stifled a shudder as he watched her nibble, just hard enough to sting. He pondered that question she'd asked arduously, he wasn't sure he himself even had the answer. Michael only craved two things; power and death. He had thought himself the embodiment of both until she had come careening into his world. Her mere existence had wounded his ego with such brutality. Though at times he enjoyed her unbreakable frame for his own personal use, unbreakable should have been a word used to describe only himself. Death and power were his to claim and yet, he had just watched her claim both for herself. She'd done it time and time again, used him to derive it and he'd let her. In reality, he wasn't sure he could stop her even if he wanted to and that must have been what ate at him most. It had to have been.

"Whatever it is, it's yours," she whispered as she nipped the tips of his middle and index fingers, "it's the least I can do to thank you for such a delicious meal."

Without warning, he ripped his hand from her mouth and replaced it around her throat. She didn't even grant him a flinch and her grin didn't falter. When she began to chuckle, his eyes narrowed. She already knew what he wanted, she was merely teasing him. She had a habit of doing that, just as he did, though he much preferred to be the one who dealt such agitating torment.

"Is it power you want? Death?" She said with ease, unfazed by the deadly tight hold in which he had her, "You're not nearly as mysterious as you imagine yourself to be, not to me at least. I can read you like a book, Michael Myers."

She noticed his hand trembled, not with fear but with rage. He wasn't at all impressed with her words, he rarely was, but she continued nonetheless with a few that would soothe his fury.

"I can give it to you," she said as she leaned into his grasp, invited him to squeeze harder, "just say the word and it's yours."

His head canted to the side again, slowly. She smiled at his signature movement and his brow furrowed. There was admiration of her own that she'd allowed to come to light in her expression. It made him rethink this odd relationship they'd come to form. If she meant what he assumed she did, he would no longer be her's to use, which thus far was what he believed she had stayed there for. He would no longer be her sustenance, he would be an equal. That is, if such a gift was even possible for him to receive. Death wasn't something easily given to Michael, but perhaps immortality. . .

Suddenly, she rushed forward, pinning him to the front door with such infuriating ease. Her slender fingers inched up his shoulders as she gazed hungrily at his covered throat, teeth barred. She drew closer, propped herself upon the tips of her toes to let her lips graze the ear of his mask.

"Come on, Michael. It's Halloween. Die a little."

Michael returned his hand to her throat, but this time he lifted her off the ground. As he glared up at her she beamed with delight, letting the sound of his ragged, fury fueled breath fill her ears and ignite that sense of danger she fed off of. His blood was heaven, sure, but what Michael didn't know was that what she lived for was his innate ability to bring about that feeling of fragility. He offered her a sense of mortality she'd almost forgotten. He reminded her what it was to be human, something she hadn't been in eons and it was something she wanted, needed for eternity. It was why she stayed locked inside that rotting house with him. It was what she truly hungered for.

That adoration began to fill her eyes again and Michael grit his teeth. He hesitated to say it was love he felt for her, but that irritating twisting sensation she brought about in his chest forced him to consider it, that and the simple fact that he wanted to give her what she desired. He wanted to give her himself. Whatever that meant, whatever she was about to do, he would allow it. His justification of such an uncharacteristic thing was his own curiosity. Michael doubted her ability to give him death such as her own, but to see her try would be most entertaining. More so than that, it would ease the worry of age, which was something she had no reason to fear. She would never weaken as he feared he one day would, she would never be stripped of her beauty, her power. Learning such things had confirmed what he had once been terribly uncertain of. He wanted what she had, he wanted to become like her; infinite. Slowly, he let his other hand wander up to the edge of his mask to unveil himself. As he did so, he lowered her enough for her feet to find rest on the wood below. She watched with amusement as he rid himself of the pale white visage she was so accustomed to. She had seen him maskless before, but his uncovered image never failed to bewitch her.

"You're a vision with or without that thing," she mused with a softer, more genuine smile, "you should know that."

He stood still, as he always did. His discomfort was evident, but he fought hard against it to look her directly in the eye as she memorized his details. He was so handsome it was irksome, she thought to herself. Even the scar over his left eye and that milky white coloring it had adopted did little to distract from his distinctly pleasant features. Soft, auburn curls rested gently atop his head, just barely grazing his seemingly permanently furrowed brows. He appeared petulant when he looked at her like he was then, a subtle scowl carving lines above his perky nose with his lips pursed, childlike even. His appearance was a stark contrast to what Michael truly was, his innocent looks were simply a facade, she knew that well. He dipped his head, it seemed to be a nod, a signal let her know he was waiting, ready for whatever attempt she desired to make.

"If it's your neck to want me to take, you'll have to lift your head, dear, not lower it," she teased.

He let out a drawn out breath and his eyes narrowed, never leaving her's as he obliged. A silent reminder not to taunt him with the power he allowed her to have over him, not to take it for granted. Perhaps she wasn't easily killed, but Michael's business was pain. He had ways of making her hurt and it would be in her best interest to remember that if she wanted to avoid such punishment.

"You'll enjoy this," she said as she perched herself against his chest once more, "I think."

Her arms snaked over his broad shoulders as she brought herself up. Now that he'd seen her take a victim, he rethought each movement she made. There was preparation to it, a softness in her touch and a distinct appreciation for him and what he offered her. He wasn't her victim, he thought to himself with suspicion, he was something else to her entirely. He caught the eerie glimmer of those teeth before he felt them sink deep into his jugular. Her bite however, was more forceful than usual, and he was glad she couldn't see how he winced when he felt that familiar, but more noticeable pull. What he hadn't been able to hide was the way he tensed under her hands.

"The pain is worth lifetimes of pleasure," she unlatched herself briefly to mumble against him, "just trust me, Michael."

When she returned to continue draining him, a pained grunt escaped his throat and he instinctively clung to her. His bruising grip on her own shoulders made her hum with delight as she herself returned his tight embrace. The pain was almost euphoric, it caused his eyes to widen in an effort to remain conscious for each moment, but they began to flutter shut, betraying his desires. A low hum infiltrated his ears as his heart beat faster in desperation to replace the blood she'd stolen from him. He began to crumble in her grasp, infuriated as that delirium that came with her bite weakened each of his limbs. She guided him to the ground and took the rare opportunity that had presented itself to straddle him as she continued. Her hands balled into fists, clutching the blue fabric of his coveralls to steady herself as she too began to feel the effects of draining him. It wasn't without effort, it was a longer process than most and she found herself struggling to finish what she'd started atop him. Finally, she felt him squeeze her as tight as he could before his hands fell limp from her shoulders and landed with a thud on either side of him. With an exasperated gasp, she ripped herself from his neck and threw her head back. Her grip on his coveralls loosened as she reveled in her own euphoria.

"That is a taste I'll miss dearly," she breathed before she allowed her gaze to drop down to his still body.

She bent down to press one finely tuned ear to his chest. The faint thrum of his heart brought a satisfied smile to her face. She'd succeeded in weakening him enough to complete the task at hand. She sat up again to admire how peaceful he looked. Michael's expression was rarely tranquil as it was then. It added to that false innocence she'd described before. He appeared angelic with his long lashes resting atop his now pale cheeks.

"I'm half tempted to keep you like this," she said as she brushed his cool skin and some of those tousled curls with the back of her hand, "you make quite a cozy seat."

She was certain he was seething behind that pretty face of his, assuming he'd even heard any of what she had just uttered. She resigned herself to refrain from any further teasing. He would wake soon and even she, as invincible as she seemed, was wary of the power she was about to grant him, but that sense of danger was so alluring. It made her wonder if curiosity would indeed kill the cat. Just as he had her, she'd have to trust that he wouldn't use his newfound abilities to erase her from existence, but trusting Michael Myers wasn't something came without risk. Perhaps there was something terribly wrong with her, she thought to herself as she once again questioned her own immortality while observing the one who could take it from her. Perhaps indeed, because that uncertainty, that gnawing sense of fear was why she loved him. He made her feel the threat of death, he made her feel alive.

"Ah, but cozy or not, I do believe it is your turn for a taste, my darling," she said before she brought her wrist to her mouth.

She hissed when she bit down, but persisted until she'd gotten her blood to drip steadily from the two small holes. She bent forward and gently lifted his head with her unwounded hand to guide him to her wrist. He winced, his mind was still spinning and an ache had settled into his neck.

"Shh," she cooed as she placed her skin to his lips, "drink, Michael. Take your fill."

After a moment's hesitation, she felt his mouth open to receive the drink she offered him, followed by the sting of her blood being pulled from her body. His brows unfurled and his expression became wanton, though his eyes were still shut. Slowly, but surely, strength spread to each of his limbs with each gulp he took. She let out a hiss when she felt him drink with more fervor than before.

"Careful, Michael. Don't get ahead of yourself," she cautioned as her brow furrowed.

He could hear her quite clearly now and he deliberately disregarded her warning. He brought his hand up to press hers harder into his teeth and lifted himself up as he did so, earning a pained cry from her. She tried in vain to pull her wrist from him, but it was useless. His strength had returned tenfold and she tasted delicious.

"Michael," she whined as she struggled against him.

She began to think she'd made a grave mistake as he continued to drink greedily, causing her to grow dizzy herself. Just as panic started to set in and her heart began to break for fear that she'd mistrusted him, his eyes shot open and wasted no time in locking with her's. Oh, and he saw it. She was finally afraid and more than that, she was terrified. He'd never seen such an expression on her face before, it was beautiful.

"Michael please," she begged, "if you drink too much you'll-"

Kill her, or so he assumed and much to his surprise, that wasn't at all what he wanted. He just wanted her to beg, after all he'd waited so long to hear her do so and she did. Before she'd finished that sentence, he lunged forward to press his lips to her's with brute force. He took his hands to his coveralls and ripped the fabric with one swift tug. He'd get another pair, he thought to himself, they weren't important at the moment. He had woken with an urge to claim her and it couldn't go unsatisfied for a second longer. He'd had her before, but not like this, not in this body, not as an equal. It was new and he wanted, needed to test its limits, if there even were any at all. Michael had thought he'd been the epitome of strength before, but this, what he felt as her blood filled him, this was ecstasy. It was undeniable, he had become the definition of inevitable, he had become death. He felt invigorated, power unlike any he'd felt before had replaced his blood and it rushed through his veins with a vengeance. He felt it with each movement he made, coursing through him like a drug. His whole body felt as though it was buzzing with static energy and she, she finally felt breakable in his grasp. He had every intention to annihilate her, bring her to the brink of death with that newfound method she'd unwittingly handed him and force her to cling to life for want of pleasure only he could give.

With incredible ease, he stood and her legs remained wrapped around his waist, but not for long. He meant good on his word in testing his limits and hurled her into the wall. Wood broke behind her and the expression on her face was oh so satisfying. Normally, she'd smirk, but then and there her chest heaved up and down and her mouth remained agape. She was still quite uncertain of his intentions and she had every right to be. She'd never seen such a look in his eyes before, it was hungry, but for what was the question. After he removed his tattered coveralls, he lunged forward and pinned her against the bent wood as he gave her clothes the same treatment he'd given his own. He discarded them to the side and his hand flew up to her bare chest to feel her soft, cold flesh under his own. His grip was bruising, rough as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and forced her legs open with his knee. He was frenzied and she had no choice but to follow his lead, which she did with that awestruck expression stuck on her face. He rethought their position and reached down with a frustrated growl to yank her legs back in place around his bare waist. He relished in the gasp she let out at the unexpected intrusion of himself inside of her and smiled wickedly when he felt her nails dig into his shoulders. He watched with amusement as her head fell back against the wall and her face contorted to display each sensation he brought her as he allowed her a moment to adjust. Michael, however wasn't known for his patience in such matters, so it wasn't long before he took her jaw in his hand and roughly forced her gaze back to his. He wanted to watch her try and catch her breath as he pounded into her relentlessly, more than anything, he wanted to watch her fail. It wasn't long before she did with her eyes rolled so far back in her head it rendered that orange glow invisible. He only furthered his efforts when he heard the house break behind her. He quite liked the idea of it simply falling apart around them. An undeniable display of his power, no less, but he became distracted as he watched her head bob back against the wall once more. She too seemed distracted, her moans escaping her permanently agape mouth without pause. She was in ecstasy and so lost in it that he knew she wouldn't dare stop him from doing exactly what he wanted to do. He returned his mouth to the crook of her neck, peppering it with kisses that steadily started to sting as he let his teeth find purchase there. Gentle nips soon turned deadly and he buried himself in her, allowing a satisfied groan to slip out when her blood filled his mouth.

"Michael," he heard her stutter out, but in reality it was more of a sound than a word, she couldn't form any to save her life.

It felt far too good to be able to speak coherently. He felt far too good. Between his endeavor to conquer that spot nestled so deeply in her core and the way he drank from her throat as though it were his last offering, she wasn't quite sure she was even conscious. Her vision blurred further each time he forced her farther up the wall with one brutal thrust after another and she waffled between the right word to describe what she felt as her mouth hung open to welcome another bruising kiss. Drunk, high, she wasn't sure, but it was somewhere along the lines of both. In simpler terms, he had fully succeeded in fucking her silly. He had brought her to the brink, just as he'd set out to do and now, Michael wanted to push her past it. When he pulled back to see that drunken smile pulling at her lips, he returned to her throat. He didn't have to look to know her brows had furrowed again, the sound she released confirmed that her face was contorted with pleasure. He had found a place inside of her she wasn't sure anyone had quite discovered before and she'd lived more than a few lifetimes, but none of them ever yielded such passion. When his fingers trailed up to tangle in her hair and force her head back, it was stars she saw painted on the old wooden ceiling. Her orgasm came careening over her in lofty waves, each higher than the one before and Michael still hadn't ceased his assault. He had found a brink of his own with her body clenched so tightly around him, forcing him to chase his own high more adamantly. It was right there within his reach as his head began to spin with that taste of her blood and the sound of her moaning his name. Her voice had become an echo, a breathy hum lost somewhere in the back of his mind as he felt himself fall head first over the edge. He came to an abrupt halt after he'd driven himself so far into her that she was certain she'd feel the consequences in the coming days, possibly even weeks. His breath, that he no longer had any use for, was uneven in her ear as he rested his hands against the wood in search for stability. He unsheathed his new weapons from her neck and his head, like a weight, pulled him to the side. He stumbled and she shook her own head to find some sort of grip on consciousness as she absentmindedly reached to steady him, but her attempt was quite unsuccessful. They both tumbled to the floor, her fall broken by his chest, which she landed on with a thud. Michael was too worn to care that she was on top and really, it no longer mattered. After all, they were equals now, so he let her rest on his bare skin as he stared blankly at the ceiling and focused on evening his breath.

After a good while of silence filled only by their labored pants, she propped herself up on him. Despite the pale coloring his skin had adopted that nearly matched his mask, she could have sworn he was flushed, just as entranced by their affair as she was. He tried to keep his breath steady through his nose, but faltered and allowed his lips to part ever so slightly and she chuckled, earning the attention of his gaze. It was more admiring than usual, for a brief moment it seemed he'd allowed her to see what had gone unspoken between them. She saw it in the red. His eyes matched the blood that trickled down the side of his mouth, they were sinfully scarlet. It seemed more fitting for him, but she was glad the dark hazel coloring she adored would return when his blood lust faded. Though for Michael, did it ever really?

"Well," she started with a sleepy grin, "that's one way to do it."

He abruptly sat up and for a moment, that fear crept back into her, but it dissipated when one of his hands found her cheek. His thumb brushed absentmindedly over her skin as he took her in with those crimson eyes. They wandered aimlessly over her features, as if he couldn't pick just one to focus on. For once, he was glad to see the trepidation she'd had fade. She noticed his lips twitch subtly at the corners and she wondered if it was his attempt at a genuine smile. Whatever it was, it was endearing, intimate in a way that they hadn't been before. When his brows furrowed, she realized he was trying to find words. She waited a moment, curious as his jaw began to clench and his expression seemed to sadden. Though Michael wanted to say it badly, he had no idea how to word it, it all sounded so silly each way he thought about it, but he felt it. It was only right he shared it, no matter how it made him squirm, but his discomfort hadn't gone unnoticed by her.

When a sound began to escape him, she quickly closed the gap between them to press a kiss to his lips and keep him silent. She felt him relax against her, relieved she'd finished his thought in a sense. She pulled back and flashed that fascinating grin that he now shared.

"I love you, is how you word it, Michael."

[izzylimon]

source: https://www.instagram.com/childrenofthenight9/

track: John Carpenter - Halloween 1978 (main theme)