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misc-obeyme · 3 months

Note

Hiii!!

Angsty Thoughts about what would satan think if he went all wrath murdery and almost killed mc? How whould he and the brothers react?

Hi Isabella!

Sooooo sorry for the delay on my response to this, but I got a little idea and I wanted to write it out. Generally, I think Satan would react very badly to this situation in that his guilt would overcome him. I think the other brothers would be most focused on MC. They would want to make sure that MC is okay. Though things might be awkward between all of them for a little while.

Anyway, I wrote this little scene to depict kinda what I was thinking. I left it open ended so that you can decide if it ends angsty or fluffy.

GN!MC x Satan

Warnings: Angst! This is the aftermath of Satan almost killing MC.

You opened your eyes slowly, taking in the bleary darkness of the ceiling in your room. The tree's branches spread above you, the leaves still in the silence.

Your head hurt a little, but otherwise you were all right. You shifted in bed, trying to remember what had happened.

A memory suddenly flashed through your mind - Satan in demon form, enraged, eyes blazing green, tail whipping through the air. Your hand reaching out toward him, your voice soft and pleading. A blast of magic light. The heavy pain that spread through your chest. Your body lifting, feeling yourself splayed across the floor. Hearing the voices of the brothers as your eyes closed, feeling Lucifer lifting you.

And that was all you needed. You sat up in bed, remembering exactly what had happened. You looked around and saw Mammon sitting on your floor, head propped up against the side of your mattress, asleep. Belphie was slumped against him, also dozing. Across the room you saw Beel, Levi, and Asmo all breathing softly against each other, also in a state of slumber.

It was so cute, you couldn't help but smile.

A hand on your shoulder nearly made you jump, but you looked up to see that it was Lucifer. The only brother still awake, it seemed.

You slipped out of your bed and followed him into the hallway.

"Are you feeling all right, MC?" he asked the second you closed your bedroom door.

"I'm fine," you said. You shook your arms out, tested your legs, stretched out your back. "I was expecting to be in pain, but I feel fine."

"You can thank Asmo for that," Lucifer said. "He used a spell at the last second to lessen the impact when you hit the ground."

You looked around the hallway. "How long have I been asleep? Where's Satan?"

Lucifer frowned. "It's only been a few hours. Satan has locked himself in his room. I carried you here and the others refused to leave, so no one has spoken to him yet."

"I need to talk to him," you said.

Lucifer shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said. "That magic he hit you with almost killed you. Do you realize that?"

"I don't care about that," you said. "It's not like I haven't almost died several times here by now. And I'm not dead, am I? I'm going to talk to him."

"MC-" Lucifer began to protest as you started off down the hall, reaching out to grab your wrist.

You pulled your wrist out of his hand. "Don't try to stop me."

Lucifer frowned after you as you made your way to Satan's door.

You knocked.

No response.

"Satan?" you called. "It's me. Please let me in."

"What are you doing here?"

His voice was strained and hoarse. It came from directly behind the door, as if he was leaning against the other side.

"I want to talk to you," you said. "Don't you think you owe me that?"

There was a long silence. And then you heard movement. A click and the door opened.

You couldn't see Satan, as he stepped back into the shadows.

You went inside and closed his door behind you. He was lingering by a stack of books, unable to look at you. He was still in demon form, like he hadn't been able to calm himself enough to shift back.

"Satan," you said quietly.

He flinched and turned even further away. "You shouldn't be here, MC. You shouldn't be near me."

You could hear the tears in his voice and you knew he had been crying.

"I'm not afraid of you," you said.

"I nearly killed you," he said. "If Asmo hadn't-"

The words broke off in a choked sob.

You could tell that words were getting you nowhere fast. You came closer to his huddled form and put a hand on his back. He stilled beneath your touch and the fear that was radiating from him nearly broke your heart.

You didn't say anything. What could you say at this point? He wasn't in a place to hear you.

Instead you slowly pressed yourself against him, leaning your cheek on his back and wrapping your arms around his waist.

Satan was like stone in your embrace. It made you want to cry, too, but you could hold yourself still. You needed to be strong for him.

You squeezed him a little and said, "I love you."

For a moment, everything was silent. And then Satan shuddered. His body relaxed as his demon form retreated. He turned around and you saw his face clearly for the first time since you'd arrived - distraught and streaked with tears.

"How could you ever love a monster like me?" he asked in a broken whisper. The pain in every word shot through your veins like ice. "I don't deserve your love."

You saw the confusion in his eyes. Part of him wanted to give in, to accept your love and your heart. But a larger part of him believed what he had just said - that he didn't deserve it.

You pressed your forehead against his and waited. There was a question in your silence, a challenge. Would he push you away? Or would he let you love him?

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#I hope you don't mind that I ran with your idea a little bit #I've just been so low on motivation and inspiration lately I take it where I can get it lol!!#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #obey me satan #om satan #obey me satan x reader #om satan x reader #obey me x reader #x reader #anxious-chick #cc mutuals #misc writes

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felice-jaganshi · 2 months

Text

Alastor's Leash

Chapter 1

(Sequel to both His Pet and My Fallen Apple)

(Warnings: later chapters will contain torture of beloved characters, and major character death. Be prepared for pain before you go into this one.) (Also a little one-sided radio static because i crave angst right now apparently.)

__________________

Everything was on fire, more than usual, considering it was hell. But, Alastor was having fun! And that's what's important. As it turns out, angel blood gives demons a temporary power boost!

After his rampage of blood and destruction ended, including more souls being ripped apart for his broadcasts. Charlie tried to have a talk with him.

“Heyyy, Alastor… While you're doing a great job protecting the hotel, and I really appreciate your efforts, I was wondering if you could… be less… murdery with it? Please?” He smiled fondly at her nervous request, ah how adorable she was.

“Hm, no.”

She groaned in frustration, “Zariah, can you please talk to your boyfriend-”

Zariah failed to hear another word out of Charlie's mouth. Her eyes dilated as she spotted someone she never thought she'd see again and ran full sprint to them, snatching the unsuspecting angel in a hug!

“Becca!! Becca Becca Becca! I've missed you!” She was purring so loud everyone in the room could hear. The light green haired angel responded,

“Zariah! You've been here this whole time and didn't call me?! I've missed you too!!” She hugged Zariah back tightly.

“Sorry, my phone broke when I fell into hell… and you know I'm bad at remembering numbers… and then I forgot to say anything to Lucifer the one time I met him because like, well, you know…” Zariah didn't want to talk about that with Alastor in the room, he'd get dangerously jealous.

In fact, you could already hear his radio static going off, indicating his frustration.

“Ah, an old friend of yours darling? You must introduce me.” His smile was strained and while his tone was pleasant, Zariah knew him well enough by now to know he was a bit pissy to have the center of attention stolen away.

“Alastor, this is Becca, my bestie beyond life and death! We used to call each other soulmates when we were alive. I still think we are, honestly! Becca, this is Alastor, the radio demon! Remember when I texted you about my research?! I found him!” She made her excitement obvious, and she could hear his teeth grind for a second. Did this angel know his human life as well?!

Becca looked the demon up and down with disapproval, “I heard you sold your soul to him.” She then grabbed Zariah by the shoulders and shook her about! Zariah went lax into the motion, making it look more vigorous and aggressive than it actually was. “Make! Better! Decisions!” Zariah laughed along at the shaking, making her seem even more mad to everyone.

Alastor found it quite charming, but also felt a tinge of rage at this woman for laying hands on his pet. He only held back doing anything because it seemed she genuinely was enjoying the attention.

“Beccaaaa!” Zariah finally stopped her when she'd had enough. “I may not be smart, but I'm not dumb! I know how to word a deal to not get burned. Al won't hurt me, anymore than Lucifer would hurt you.”

After hearing this, Alastor couldn't resist chiming back in. If she was really something special to Lucifer, it would benefit him to win her over. If only to torment the king of hell.

“Miss Becca, I believe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I only kill sinners. Even in life, that was true. So please, do calm down. I would never harm my darling. She is more precious to me than you realize.” His words sounded so genuine.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Fine, but I don't trust you. If you hurt her, I'm coming for your head!” Her gaze held a fire that made him feel Inspired! He laughed maniacally and his grin grew more lively!

“Agreed, if I fail my dearest, you have every right to seek restitution on her behalf.”

“Oookay, well this was exciting!” Charlie jumped in, “But now let's focus back in on some positives!” She wanted to stop any potential fights before they broke out.

“Right, Zariah, I actually wanted to ask you something really important. Remember how you promised to be my maid of honor if I ever got married?” Becca then held up her left hand, a bright red engagement ring on her finger.

Zariah squealed and hugged her tight, “Yes! He proposed?! I'm so happy for you!!”

______________

After catching up for a bit, Zariah had Alastor follow to her room, she still had that second present to give him.

He sat on the edge of her bed, and got nervous when she was looking underneath it for his present. “Ah, isn't that where you said you keep your… lewd materials?”

“What better place to hide a present than a place I know you'd loathe to look.” She laughed, and he couldn't help chuckling with her.

“Very true… my clever little fox.”

She came back up holding a wrapped box the size of a shoe box.

“This present… I had to sneak into heaven to get it for you. I did that as soon as my wings had grown back.” She looked a little nervous as she said this, and his eye twitched in irritation, just as she'd worried it would. “I know, you didn't want me to leave the hotel without you, but… when you see what it is, you'll understand.”

He held out his hands for the box. “My pet, do I need to remind you who is supposed to be in charge here? Our deal plainly states I am to be your caretaker. I feel I may need to punish you if you keep acting so recklessly.” He was extremely annoyed as he opened the box. Inside was a book, a letter, and a cellphone. But not a voxtech one. It didn't look like any of the models in hell.

He set the box on the bed and started with the letter. He opened it, and his hands immediately began to tremble as he recognized the handwriting. It was from his mother!

“Dear Alastor, I heard about where you ended up. And while it hurts to hear, I gotta admit I'm also relieved. I finally understand why you haven't visited or called all these years. I still love you, you're still my sunshine on a rainy day. I gave your little girlfriend a copy of my recipes. Just like I planned to if you ever got married one day. She's such a sweetheart, and I know you'll take good care of her. Now you call me up on that heaven phone sometimes and let's chat once and awhile. Don't break your old lady's heart! With love, Mama”

Tears fell onto the page. She… she still… he could call her! He looked at the phone in the box, it was from heaven then! And the book! He set down the letter and took up the book, opening it to find more of her handwriting. These were all her recipes with notes and stories about him added in. He looked up at Zariah through blurry tear filled eyes, she was a true angel. His personal angel. What did he do to deserve her?

“Al, do you want some time alone to talk to your mom?” Her voice was soft and caring, but not pitiful. He sighed and dried his eyes.

“I've never used a cell phone before. How do I…” He picked up the device and looked it over. She smiled and showed him which buttons turned it on and showed that his mother's number was already saved and labeled as “Mama”.

He then went to his room to have a very… difficult chat…

#hazbin hotel #alastor's pet #alastor x oc #ace alastor #alastor x reader #aroace alastor #alastor #platonic alastor x reader #fallen apple #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #Alastor's Leash

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jonny-versace · 5 years

Note

Where are people seeing these pics of Ryan they are talking about?

Twitter dot com but also here

#he looks murdery in that second one and I'm fine with it #ryan hawley #anonymouse 🐁

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decaying-church · 3 years

Text

How to Get Away With Murder

Michael Myers x Male reader

TW⚠️: many mentions of murder, many mentions of blood, Michael very low key-ly having a blood kink at the end, y/n is a little murdery, male oc (his name is Scotty, he's you've very supportive but terrified best friend.) mentions of drinking and being hungover.

Word count: 3566

Requested by @molstkiwi: hello :)) could i request michael myers x masc male reader, where y/n has been an on and off partner of myers (the murderer just sorta inserts himself into y/n's life whenever he feels like it) and one day he asks michael if he could teach him how to kill?

Despite what most people thought, Michael Myers isn’t invincible. Immortal, maybe, but he’s still susceptible to pain. Which is how he ended up at your house.

The night after Halloween, you were still mildly hung over from the little get together you and your friends had the night before. You laid lazily on your couch, a bag of chips resting on your chest as you looked through Netflix to find something interesting.

Somewhere in the house you heard creaking, immediately you sat up, turning off the tv, listening for anything in the previous dead silent house. A few more creaks sounded, getting closer and closer to you, your heart was beating out of control, but suddenly they stopped.

You nearly jumped out of your skin a few seconds later when a giant thud came from upstairs.

Immediately, you grabbed your phone and video called your best friend. He squinted at the blaring light of his phone as soon as he answered, he still looked a bit messed up from the night before.

“Y/n? What the hell, man-” he groaned.

“There’s someone in my house..” you whispered.

He stared at you in completely disbelief.

“Scotty, I'm fucking serious! There's someone in my goddamn house!”

The moment he saw the truly panicked look on your face he knew you were serious.

“Fuck man, why didn't you call the police?”

“And wait an hour and a half for them to get here while someone is already inside the fucking house, I could be dead by the time they get here..”

“So you called me instead?!”

“If anything happens I need you to be a witness..”

“Fuck, that so fucked up.”

“I know, I'm sorry..”

After sitting in silence for a moment you made your way to the kitchen as quietly as you could.

“The fuck are you doing?” Scotty whispered, despite your phone being one volume bar away from being muted.

“I can't just sit here empty-handed..”

Carefully, you grabbed two knives out of their wooden holder, holding one in your hand and the other in your front pocket, along with the hefty rolling pin you kept on your counter, shoving your phone down the front of your pants, having Scotty facing outward.

“Okay, I'm going upstairs..”

“What? No! That's a horrible idea, have you never seen a horror movie? The brave bitch always dies!”

Deciding to bring shitty humor to the terrifying moment you said, “I’m built different, I'll be fine.”

“No, you won't!”

Slowly, you made your way back to the living room, then up the stairs, knife in one hand and rolling pin in the other. Luckily, you forgot to turn the upstairs lights off when you migrated downstairs, making the utterly horrifying trip up a bit less scary.

As soon as you reached the top you saw what apparently made the thud. Either the real Michael-fucking-Myers was bleeding out on your carpet or somebody was pulling a shitty prank.

“What the fuck?” Scotty muttered.

A long moment of silence passed, you just…stared at him. Okay, maybe this is just a very bad prank, a surprisingly put-together one considering that almost all of your friends should definitely still be hung over. Maybe one of your friends decided to just...come lay on your floor. Despite the foul, rusted smell that only blood or many, many pennies could make filling the room, you reached down to grab the iconically horrifying mask, only to be caught in the tight grip of the man who you previously thought was either one of your friends or a dead serial killer. His almost crushing grip around your wrist loosened in a moment as his body once again went limp.

Okay, gonna take a chance and assume that a serial killer was dying on your floor.

“Fuck no, y/n get the hell out of the house.”

Staring at the man a moment longer, noticing how even in his unconscious state he seemed to be guarding his side, albeit very discreetly. “I think he's hurt..”

“Good, it's time for you to skedaddle!”

“But...look at him. I'd feel bad if he died…”

“He wouldn't give a shit if you died, so it's time for you to go!”

Squatting next to the man, watching as his chest heaved heavily.

“Alright, come on big guy..” you muttered, standing before gracing both of the giant man's feet and dragging him to your bedroom.

“Oh my God, you're insane! You have officially lost all of your marbles!”

“Maybe…”

It took a while to get the injured man onto your bed(after taking everything off of it, leaving nothing but a bare mattress on the frame). It was quickly covered in his blood.

Taking your phone out of your pants and propping it up against the lamp on your nightstand, letting your very disappointed best friend see what you were doing.

“Every day you achieve a new level of idiocracy..”

“I know, thank you..”

You unbuttoned his deep blue jumpsuit, your fingers almost immediately coated in his blood.

“Fucking hell..” you muttered as the man stirred under you.

Moving the drenched fabric out of the way to get a better look at the wound, quickly snatching your pillow cover off of your pillow to wipe up the blood, the cut wasn't bad, honestly, he just needed a few stitches. Luckily, you had youtube and a hand-me-down sewing kit with impossibly strong thread.

_____________________

It took an hour and a half (with a short break in the middle to go get your phone charger) but you'd done some pretty neat looking stitches. Well, neat looking for a man that's never done them..

“Shit that was stressful..” Scotty sighed.

“Bitch-” you said, looking over to your phone. “You're not even here.”

“Y/n, you're my best friend and I love you but I will never be the dumb bitch in a horror move. Sending my love, but keeping my distance, dude.”

You let out a short laugh, “I appreciate it,”

Your eyes trailed over to the abundance of blood everywhere.

“Fuck, I'm going to need so much peroxide..”

“Suck to be you..”

“Fuck off.”

_____________________

One outfit change and a trip to the store later you had approximately 9 bottles of peroxide. You hoped it was enough.

Filling a bucket with cold water, mixing a bit of clothes detergent in, you hauled it to the stairs to the stained carpet, pouring a bit on the floor before emptying a bottle of peroxide over it. Watching it heat and bubble with pinkish bubbles before dispersing, leaving a very faded mark behind. Nothing more peroxide couldn't handle.

After getting the majority of the blood out with peroxide you scrubbed with the detergent mixture until the floor was spotless, then you went over it with peroxide again and then detergent again, just to be sure.

Going throughout the house, finding the window he apparently climbed through and scrubbing the blood off.

Heading back to your room you looked over the man one more time, he hadn't moved, he was stiff as a board.

Bundling up the bloody sheets and tossing them into your washer, with more peroxide of course. Now for the challenging part, getting the clothes off the sleeping mass murderer.

The top was already unbuttoned, so all that you needed to do was pull it off of him.

Slowly, you untied his shoes, slipping them off and tossing them to the side. He didn't move an inch, you looked up, the steady rising and falling of his chest told you he was still alive, just in deep sleep. Moving up you pulled one of his arms out of its sleeve, then moved to the other side and pulled off the other.

“Okay, top half done.”

“Someone's going to walk in and think I’m watching some very strange porn..”

“Shut up.”

You pulled the pants half off in one hard pull, luckily for you, he was wearing underwear, and even luckier, he was still asleep.

Balling the jumpsuit up, you decided to leave his stained white shirt on him, mostly for your own comfort, tossing it into the washer with the other bloodied clothes, adding more peroxide and detergent before starting it.

You let out a tired sigh, you've been cleaning for hours. The sun would be coming up soon and you hadn't gotten any sleep. Thankfully, you had your best friend to share the experience with you.

After taking off your own clothes, not covered in blood, but sweat, you got in the shower, placing your phone face down on the counter, hearing Scotty talking as you cleaned yourself. Getting out and putting a fresh set of clothes on before picking your phone and going to check on your soundly sleeping mass murderer.

You wanted to reach over and take off his mask but decided against it.

Hearing Scotty let out his second long loud yawn in the past five minutes you picked up your phone.

“Hey, you can go to bed if you're tired..”

“No, no I'm-” he interrupted himself with another yawn, “-fine.”

“Go to bed Scott.”

After a long moment of silence, he sighed, “Fine, but text me every 30 -no- 15 minutes, okay?”

“Okay, I will. ‘Night Scotty.”

“Good Night y/n..”

The 9-hour call finally came to an end.

Placing your phone on the bedside table.

Glancing back over at Michael, still resting stiffly on your bed. It felt...weird, leaving him without pants. You've slept with a few bulkier guys, maybe you had some pants that would fit him, something so he wasn't just laying there in his underwear.

Scavenging through your drawers you find what you were looking for, large, plain, black sweats.

Getting them on him was easy, it was like dressing a very big doll because of how stiff he was.

You turned, picking up your phone to text Scotty only to suddenly be grabbed from behind. A large hand wrapped around your neck. The air knocked out of your lungs as you were slammed into the floor.

There he was, holding himself above you, his expressionless mask staring down at you. Michael Myers, fully awake and seconds from killing you.

After all the hard work you did, you were going to die. God, life fucking sucked.

You gasped for air as his grip wavered around your throat. As you began to feel lightheaded the pressure was suddenly gone. Opening your eyes, you looked up at the masked man, panting heavily.

You stared at each other silently. Watching him, surprisingly, back away from you. A second later you stood, your legs shaking so badly that you had to brace yourself on your nightstand.

You don't know how many minutes passed of you two just sitting and staring at each other.

The sudden ding of the washer in the other room made you break eye contact with Michael. You were spared, not knowing what else to do, you walked out of the room to the spot in the hallway where your washer and dryer were.

Michael followed you, standing a few feet away from you, just...watching.

With shaking hands, you loaded the now clean, wet clothes into the dryer, dropping in a few dryer sheets before starting it.

You looked over at him, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Your clothes will be dry in 30 minutes,” you muttered out, not knowing what else to say.

Surprisingly, he nodded then turned and walked back to your room.

The 30 minutes passed slowly, you let out a relieved sigh as the dryer dinged, you rushed over to it, ignoring everything else inside and pulling out his dark blue jumpsuit. He was, once again, only a few feet away from you.

Handing him his clothes you watched nervously as he took off the sweats you put on him and dropped them on the floor, putting on his signature blue jumpsuit. Then he turned, heading towards the stairs.

And for a moment you'd forgotten who the hell you were dealing with.

“You're just going to leave them on the floor?” you muttered a bit too loudly.

Fear struck your body as he stopped, turning back around and walking back towards you. Without saying a word he picked the sweats up off the ground before heading down the stairs. It wasn't until you heard your backdoor slam that you knew he was gone.

_____________________

You didn't see Michael again until two months later, he was in your house when you got home from work. Just...standing there, in your living room.

“Michael..” you muttered, closing the door behind you.

This was the first time seeing him in months, but he's been in your house and you knew it. It started with your knives, one by one disappearing only to be replaced by similar ones. But you knew they weren't the same.

Then, your pillow cases disappeared. Only to be found a few weeks later, in your previously empty in your washer, covered in blood. Why he was taking them, you don't know.

And just yesterday you found a bloody knife just lying in the middle of your bed when you got home. Which pissed you off to no end because you were ready to go to sleep, you ended up sleeping on the couch and cleaning up in the morning.

You were used to his mischief by now, but you definitely weren't prepared to see him in your living room.

He didn't say a single word, not that he ever had in the time that you've known him, taking a few steps forward, you took some back until your back hit the door.

Standing over you, he was completely unarmed. But he's a big man, he didn't need to be armed to hurt you.

Panic filled your mind as he raised his hand to you, instinctively flinching back, your head slamming against the door.

Once again surprising you, he lowered his hand, staring at you before eventually turning and leaving.

_____________________

That's how your first few meetings went with Michael, you’d come home or wake up and he’d already be there, waiting for you, he’d get uncomfortably close, then he’d leave.

It took a while but eventually you got used to him being in your home.

It wasn’t until he started acting…regular...That you became weary. He’d come over at odd times or just appear in your house still, but instead of just standing in your personal space for a minute then leaving he’d sit with you, or at least near you. He’d sit with you while you ate, while you got dressed, while you watched TV. Like he’d become more comfortable, the same way you had.

Soon your familiarity with the man turned to fondness, which(faster than anyone would have liked) turned to adoration.

Once you realized it you wanted to bang your head against the wall. After collecting yourself, you told Scott.

“No-”

“Shut up-”

“There’s no way!”

“Clearly there is!”

Scott’s loud laughter and wheezing played loudly through your room.

“Oh this is hilarious! Top tear comedy! Honestly, you're going straight to jail, horny jail! He kills people and you decided that was hot, god we are truly unfortunate.”

Letting out a long sigh you asked, “should I...say something to him?”

“To the mass murder that regularly breaks into your house? I don't know, maybe..”

“You’re not helping..”

You watched as he typed away at his computer, glazing down at his phone -at you- through the screen every so often.

“Listen, I’ve never been in this situation before, neither have you. The only thing I can say is…go for it. Honestly the worst that can happen is you die, which is a chance you take everyday by not calling the police on him.”

“True.”

“So if you want him, ask him out, or whatever weird mating ritual you want to go through, just be safe with it.”

“Alright…I appreciate your mildly okay advice.”

“It's what I'm here for.”

_____________________

You didn't see Michael for another month after that, a regular occurrence between the two of you. But when he came back, he knew something was off. He may not be good at reading people but he could tell something was bothering you.

It finally came out while you were watching TV together. Well, you were watching tv, he, as always, was watching you.

“Michael..” you started, still staring at the TV, “I don't know how to tell you this without sounding 12 but… I care about you, a lot. And I like hanging out around you, even if you are just sitting there watching me, and you're...around me a lot so I thought maybe we could try...dating?”

God, you sounded 12.

And as always, he was silent. You couldn't look at him, even though you couldn't see his face and wouldn’t be able to tell his reaction, you still couldn’t.

It wasn’t until you felt a weight set over your hand that you looked. Michael Myers, mass murderer, The Shape of Haddonfield, was holding your hand. Looking up at Michael only to see, for the first time since you’ve known each other, he wasn’t staring at you. Just staring straight ahead, not even looking at the tv, just at the wall.

Okay, this just may be the start of something new.

_____________________

It was easy to forget what Michael did -does- when he’s not with you. With you he was your sensitive little sweetheart, but that’s not how the rest of Haddonfield knew him.

Almost a year into your relationship- Halloween was coming around again, meaning Michael was more active, getting ready for his big Halloween spree, a sign to the people of Haddonfield that he’s coming.

He was faster than usual, but that also means he was sloppier than usual, not with his killing, no that was his love, his passion, not a damn thing could keep him from it. No, he’s been unfortunately, leading people to your house whenever he’s done for the night. 3 people had come so far, and with Halloween only 4 nights away, more and more people would be coming after him, and in relation, you.

He’d taken care of 2 of them, the 3rd tried to warn you about him but you convinced him that he must have followed him to the wrong house, but you’d be careful, all while Michael stood behind the door, memorizing the man’s voice so he’d be a bit easier to find later.

The next night(October 29th) you bought a taser, these people were getting into your house a bit too easily, you needed protection for when Michael wasn't there.

Michael quickly deemed it useless because it was gone from your drawer later that same night.

By the time October 30th rolled around people kept showing up at your house, rumors circulated around town, rumors that only pissed more and more people off. They were angry and mourning and understandably they needed someone to be mad at, but why you? Yes, you may be dating their child and/or parent and/or sibling and/or best friend and/or spouse’s murderer but that honestly wasn't your problem. That’s their problem that they are trying to make your problem.

Which sucked ass. But not as much as what they're doing to Michael.

While some became fearful as Halloween approached, some just got brave, brave and stupid, but brave nonetheless. And brave idiots with guns left you with a Michael full of bullets. He’d try to hide it from you, but that never worked long, most of the time you spent together was you fixing him up.

It pissed you off, more than the rumors, more than people showing up in your house. You couldn't keep letting them get away with this.

You stayed up all night thinking about it, you probably should have thought about it way longer but you had one night before Michael disappeared again, you weren't going to waste it.

You waited until the night of Halloween to ask him about it.

“Michael, you know how you murder people?”

He had no reaction, still just staring at you.

“Well, I was just thinking maybe you could teach me, ya know, to get a little stabby..”

This was stupid, he was going to say no, you thought.

But in truth Michael was ecstatic, only on the inside of course. He loved you, he loved killing, but you killing added a whole new sensation to your relationship. He’d go to any length to see you covered in your victim's blood after a spree, red truly was your color.

But, as always he stayed silent.

It wasn't until that night that you got your answer.

Laying on top of your bed was a shitty Halloween mask and a knife. Not one of Michael or even one of yours. It was nice -very sharp-(Michael wanted your first knife to be special, so he stole the nicest one from one of his victim's houses for you, because he loved you.)

Surprisingly gentle hands turned you around by the waist.

“Michael, do you want me to...go out with you tonight.”

Very slowly, he nodded.

“Oh, okay. And we’re going to murder people right?”

He nodded again.

“Okay, cool, cool, cool,” you muttered under your breath, still a bit nervous.

“So, where do we start?”

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