landofreadersandinserts

[landofreadersandinserts]

Maid for You- Dirk x Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

You’re old enough to have a job and drive~ Oh, and you have hair, in case you’re bald!

Otaku is a term for people who love anime, manga, and video games. Tsundere is a term meaning someone who is tough on the outside, sweet on the inside. Moe means cute.  

Happy Valentine’s Day my beautiful readers! I love you all! <3

   Another year, another attempt at Valentine’s Day. I’ve been dating Dirk for years now and I still find him unpredictable. He’s still mysterious, still wacky, and still an utter dork, but I wouldn’t have him any other way. But while others are looking forward to what surprises their lovers have in store for Valentine’s, I’m a mix of eagerness and a dash of fear. Last year Dirk had made a life sized chocolate sculpture of himself, but the problem? The sculpture was naked and very detailed. I told him he didn’t have to bother doing anything for Valentine’s, but while he won’t admit it, he’s in fact a romantic. A romantic in the weirdest way, but still a romantic.

I wonder what he’ll do this year? I just hope it doesn’t involve a crowd of people this time. I’ve already finished my shift at work today, and sitting beside me is a box of chocolates. I know how much of an otaku Dirk is, so I decided to do what they do in a lot of animes and make him chocolate. Maybe I’ll even give it to him like a tsundere to make it more moe.

I pull up into the driveway of our shared house. Just last year we finally started to live together. Living with him is definitely interesting. I just wish he would quit leaving cherry bombs everywhere. Grabbing the chocolates, I head to the entrance door. As I slip the keys into the lock, something on the door catches my eye. A piece of paper is taped to the surface. On closer inspection, I find it to to be a handwritten coupon for...maid service?

I carefully take the coupon off of the door. It has hearts drawn all over it, so it must be Dirk’s Valentine’s gift to me. I’m surprised, it’s way too normal to be from Dirk. I open the door as I continue to stare at the coupon curiously. When I look up, though, the coupon slips from my fingers to the floor as my mouth drops at the sight standing before me.

Dirk is waiting for me, dressed in a maid outfit. Couldn’t he have at least dressed up like a butler? But no, he’s wearing a black dress with a frilly apron, a choker around his neck, a headdress with ribbons, and even highheels. “Welcome home, master,” he greets me in his deep voice that doesn’t fit his attire at all.

And all I can mutter in astonishment is, “You shaved your legs.”

“Legs this sexy have to look just right in this dress,” he says as he displays his legs proudly.

“Um, ok,” I mumble as my eyes trail his figure. “Uh, so, what exactly do you plan on doing in that getup?”

Uh oh, wrong question. I swear, it’s like his sunglasses gleam with mischief as he saunters over to me. “Anything you like, master,” he says seductively as he gets closer and closer. “Would you like to feel how smooth these legs are?”  

Why am I getting turned on by this!? “Take my chocolate, peasant!” I yelp as I toss my chocolates at him. I can’t help it, he makes me feel like I’m going to explode in more ways than one.

He smoothly grabs the chocolates with ninja-like reflexes. “I like where this is heading,” he says with a small smirk. “I’ve got handcuffs if you’d like to punish me, master.”

Heat rushes to my face so fast that for a moment, I think I may have just exploded. But as I swallow heavily, I come to one conclusion: I’m not going to let it be that easy. He teases me all the time, and for once, I want to be the one who’s teasing. Placing my hands on my hips with my lips curled in a smirk, I tell him, “Oh no, it’s too early. You haven’t even begun your services! First things first, I want this house spotless.”

“Huh?” he breathes out, caught off guard.

“Don’t play dumb, Mr. Strider,” I say with a devious grin as I smoothly walk past him. “The floors need scrubbed, so you should get to scrubbing. I’ve got a coupon for maid service, and I expect excellent work from you.”

I turn to him with a challenging stare. I may not be able to see past his sunglasses, but I can tell he isn’t going to argue. “Fine,” he grumbles. “As you wish, master.” He may be prideful, but I know he would do anything for me.  

I gleefully watch as he fills a bucket with warm soapy water. With a scrub brush in hand, he gets down on his hands and knees and starts scrubbing the floor. After awhile of scrubbing, I walk close and whisper intimately in his ears, “Those smooth legs are nice and sleek when they’re wet.” As I trail my hand across the skin of his thigh, I hear his breath become a bit ragged. “And you’re getting rather dirty, Mr. Strider.” He turns to me, his face flushed red. Before he can say anything, I say with a seductive grin, “With you bent over like this, I can almost see what’s under that dress. Quite the slutty maid, aren’t you?”

As I expected, I pushed him over the edge. His hands grab my shoulders as he tries to pull me into a kiss, but my raised hand blocks his lips. “Ah ah ah,” I say disapprovingly. “You’re work is not finished. That’s enough scrubbing, I feel rather peckish.” He grits his teeth as he glares at me through his sunglasses, sexually frustrated. “If I like what I taste, I may reward you.”

“What would you like?” he sighs, defeated.

Now I know Dirk is a terrible cook. So to keep it simple, I reply, “Tomato soup. Home made, though, not canned.”

He says nothing as he sets to work on gathering the supplies. I watch as he cuts and spices until the soup is in a pot and cooking. “We’ve got robots for this shit,” he mutters to himself.

“Yeah, but then there wouldn’t be any love in it,” I say as I sniff the soup. “Mm, smells good! I’d like a taste.” He holds up the spoon with some steaming soup. “No, you’re using that spoon to stir. Use your finger.” He stares at me questioningly, but I can tell it registers as his face becomes flushed. Wordlessly, he dips his finger in the soup and offers it to me.

My eyes never leaving his, I place his finger in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the tomato flavored skin as I watch Dirk’s face becoming redder. After licking away all the flavor, I remove the finger with a smile. “How-,” Dirk begins, but his voice cracks. After clearing his throat, he tries again. “How did you like it, master?”

“It was very delicious,” I purr. “I’ll even permit you to have some and I’ll set the table.” I don’t want to ask too much of him, after all. Valentine’s is meant to be enjoyable for the both of us.

“Thank you very much, master,” he says with a small smirk.

“No problem,” I return with a grin as I grab a set of bowls and spoons. After placing them on the table, I also grab a couple of candles and light them up.

I feel a tap on my shoulder as Dirk calls, “[f/n]?”

“Yeah?” I reply as I turn to him. I gasp as I notice the large bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“I got you this, too,” he says as he hands me the flowers.

“Thank you, Dirk, they’re beautiful,” I say with a warm smile as I prepare a vase for the flowers. After making the flowers the centerpiece, we settle down for dinner.

******************************************************************************

“I hope you left room for dessert,” I tell Dirk as I lick the last of the soup off of my spoon.

“Of course,” he replies. “What is for dessert? You, I hope.”

“Maybe,” I reply with a giggle as I push myself away from the table. “Follow me.” He obediently follows as I lead him to the couch. I casually plop onto the couch and grab the box of chocolates resting on a nearby table. I beckon him with my finger. “Come here.”

As soon as he gets close enough, I grab him and tug him onto my lap as best as I could. His legs quickly move to straddle me as he tries to get comfy. “[f/n]?” he says breathily.

I open the box and remove one of the chocolates. I gently press the chocolate against his lips and sensually stroke the skin. “Say ah,” I demand. He obliges as I pop the sweet into his chocolate stained mouth. “How does it taste?”

“Good,” he simply replies, his tongue darting forth to lick at his lips.

“I want a taste,” I murmur as I lean forward and place my lips on his. I grab his hips and press him closer as my tongue licks away the chocolate. He fervently kisses back with all his pent up sexual frustration. He presses against me until it feels like I’m going to merge with the couch as he hungrily claims my lips. His hands move from my shoulders to my head as his fingers tangle in my hair, angling my head so he can kiss me better.

With one last moan escaping my lips, he pulls away. “How did it taste?” he asks with the little air he has left.

“G-good,” I breath out with small pants.

He smirks as he leans down, his lips kissing my neck. “[f/n],” he breaths against my skin.

“Dirk,” I moan as his tongue licks at my hot skin. “Dirk!”

“Who is really the master?” he asks as he presses even tighter against me.

“Ah!” I gasp. I need more, I need so much more. I don’t even care who is teasing who at this point. “You are! Dirk, you are!”

“I think you got a little carried away with this maid service,” he whispers into the my ear. I shiver as he lightly nibbles the lobe. “Time to remind you who the real master is.”

“You’re so unfair,” I groan as he lifts me into his arms. Well, at least I got to be in charge for a little while.

He smirks as he carries me to our bedroom. “Really, I’d call this a win-win situation,” he says smugly.

******************************************************************************

   I sigh contently as I snuggle against Dirk’s chest. “I love you, dork,” I say lovingly.

   “Don’t you mean master?” he says teasingly.

   I lightly punch him with a playful glare. “Thanks for the gift,” I say as I settle back against his chest. “It was interesting, to say the least.”

   “I’d say,” Dirk snorts. “I never thought you had it in you to be so dominant.”

   “I’ve been dominant before!” I protest.

“Sure you have,” Dirk says half-heartedly. “I love you too, by the way.”

I feel my eyes drift shut as sleepiness creeps up on me. Before I fall asleep, I mutter, “Dirk?”

“Yeah?”

“You better be prepared for the next Valentine’s Day, I’m not going easy on you.”

And from that day forward, Valentine’s Day became the day when we compete to see who comes up with the craziest ideas.

The End

#dirk #dirk strider #bro #bro strider #homestuck #dirk x reader #reader x dirk #dirk and reader #reader and dirk #bro x reader #reader x bro #bro and reader #reader and bro #dirk strider x reader #reader x dirk strider #dirk strider and reader #reader and dirk strider #reader insert #valentines #valentine's #valentines day #valentine's day

[landofreadersandinserts]

Could you make a scp 049 x reader is you get a chance?

Do you mean the Plague Doctor? 

[landofreadersandinserts]

Iced Coffee- Modern!Elsa x Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

In this fic, you like to drink coffee~

And you like cats~

          It’s 20 degrees outside, the wind is piercing, and all the coats in the world couldn’t protect me from it. Yet even so, here I am, ordering an iced coffee. Well, at least the coffee shop is warm inside.

    Why am I ordering an iced coffee, you ask? It’s not because of the coffee, it’s because of the girl serving it. Her blonde hair she always wears in a braid, her ice blue eyes, her soft smile that warms her chilly demeanor, I’ve come to fall in love with all of it. And her name is Elsa, the Snow Queen. Others consider her to be cold and emotionless, thus the title Snow Queen. Doesn’t help that her specialty is iced coffee. I know from experience that she isn’t good at making hot coffee. But me, I know there is more to Elsa that others don’t get to see. Like how her eyes sparkle every time her bubbly sister visits the shop, or how her face softens with serenity as she makes her coffee. She’s calm, gentle, loving, smart, and others don’t know this, but she’s playful. For me, that’s the perfect woman.   

    “Here you go,” she says softly as she hands me my coffee. I bet she’s a good singer with that beautiful voice of hers.

    “Thank you,” I reply with a hopefully charming smile.

    Rather than walk away, she watches me as I take a sip of the cool drink. I shyly watch as she raises an eyebrow with an amused smile. “Isn’t it a bit cold to be drinking iced coffee?” she asks.

    “I just really like my coffee iced,” I say as my cheeks heat up ever so slightly. At least that’s a bit of warmth. “Plus you make the best iced coffee.”

    At my compliment, her pale skin becomes shaded with a light pink. “Thank you,” she says politely with a small smile. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be able to work here in the winter. You’re the only one who orders iced coffee when it’s this cold outside, and you never fail to visit every day.”

That’s because I want to see you everyday, I think to myself. “Gotta have my caffeine,” I say instead.

At that moment, Elsa’s sister, Anna, bursts into the store. “Elsa!” she cries hysterically. “I need your help!”

“What is it?” Elsa asks with concern.

“I met this wonderful guy, his name’s Kristoff,” Anna begins to explain, her words hurried. “I really, really want to go on a date with him, but I’m too nervous being alone with him. Could you please come with me?”

“Anna,” Elsa says sternly. “That would not be appropriate. I would be a third wheel.”

“Not if it’s a double date!” Anna insists.

“There is no one to accompany me on a double date,” Elsa says with a sigh.

“But there’s got to be somebody,” Anna cries desperately.

“I’ll go,” I say quietly, nervously. The moment the words come out of my mouth, Anna looks at me hopefully while Elsa looks at me in surprise.

“Really?” both sisters cry in astonishment.

“You don’t have to go to such trouble,” Elsa says before Anna can leap at me for what I assume would have been a thankful embrace.

“Oh no, it’s fine!” I reassure her with a wide grin, hoping my eagerness isn’t too obvious. “It’s no problem. And besides, I’d love to help out the person who makes my coffee every day.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Anna finally bursts out, tossing herself at me in a very tight embrace.

“It’s no problem!” I say with a laugh as I glance at Elsa. Our eyes meet, but she shyly looks down.

“Thank you, sorry for the trouble,” Elsa says with a thankful grin.

“It’s my pleasure,” I murmur as Anna tugs me by the hand. With her other hand she grabs Elsa’s.

“Let’s go!” Anna declares as she drags the both of  us out the door. It's a good thing Elsa's shift just ended.

The boy named Kristoff is waiting outside. Truthfully, he looks rather confused and uncertain as Anna beams happily at him while dragging me and Elsa. “Erm, who’re they?” he asks.

“My sister Elsa and her friend, for our double date!” Anna says cheerfully as she releases her grip on our hands.

“Date?” he cries in surprise. “I was just taking you to a thank you dinner for helping out with Sven!”

“Who’s Sven?” Elsa questions.

“My dog,” Kristoff explains.

“What did you need Anna’s help for?” I ask curiously.   

“He sort of escaped the house. He would’ve come back, but a dog running loose can be a problem. Then the bugger spotted Anna here and wouldn’t leave her side. It’s weird, he usually listens to me, but he wouldn’t go anywhere without Anna. So with her help, we got him back home. I was just going to buy her dinner as thanks….,”  Kristoff trails off as he glances at Anna. He may be able to fool everyone else, but he can’t fool me. He’s actually in love with Anna, he just won’t admit it. I can see it written all over his face!

“Have you and Anna met before?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

“Uh, yeah, we’ve run into each other a few times,” he answers vaguely.    

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought them,” Anna butts in fretfully.

“No, it’s fine, I guess,” Kristoff says with a reassuring smile. “I should have enough money for all of us. Come on, I’ll drive you guys to the restaurant.” He leads us to a old car painted in a pale green. It looks a bit rustic, but Kristoff says proudly, “I finally have it paid off,” as he pats it fondly.

Anna, of course, sits in the front seat while Elsa and I squeeze ourselves into the back of the car. It’s a bit cramped, thus our shoulders press together. Being so close to her, I can’t help my heart from fluttering in my chest. Anna and Kristoff engage in conversation up front, but a awkward silence settles over me and Elsa. To try and lighten the mood, I venture out, “Sorry about being all pressed up against you. I’d move, but there’s no room.”

She turns her body so she’s better able to face me, her knee bumping against mine in the process. Her face is so close, if I just leaned in a little bit... “It’s no problem, really,” she says softly, interrupting me from my thoughts. “It is rather cold outside, so I don’t mind the extra body heat.”

“I know what you mean,” I say with a warm smile. Silence settles over us again, so I venture out a question. “Why do you work at the coffee shop? I’ve heard your family left you a lot of money, so much so that you don’t have to work at all.” Everyone in town knows of Elsa and Anna, the tragic sisters. Their parents had been co-founders of an established corporation, until one day they died in a shipwreck. It’s a good thing the servants were very fond of the sisters, for the girls had no other relatives. One of the servants adopted Elsa and Anna instead. Thanks to the servants and their loyalty, the sisters weren’t sent to an orphanage.

Elsa turns away from me and eyes her hand sadly, her gaze lost in thought. I realize I’ve touched a sensitive topic, so I don’t say anything as I patiently wait for her response. “It’s because I desired freedom,” she finally replies. “You see, after my parents passed, I...well, I couldn’t really be around anyone. Not even Anna. There’s always high expectations of me for being the oldest daughter. Someday I’ll be head of the corporation, and the pressure was too much for me. It felt like everyone was always watching me, to the point where I had to tell myself, ‘conceal, don’t feel,’ so I wouldn’t mess up. One day, I happened to embarrass myself in front of important partners of my parents. I couldn't take it anymore, I had to let everything go for my own sake. So I moved out of the estate, rented an apartment, and began working a normal job so I myself could feel normal like everyone else."

"I'm glad you did," I murmur. "Otherwise I'd never have met you."

She stares at me, her aquamarine eyes widening slightly in surprise. Then her gaze softens as a warmth settles over her features. "Thank you," she says, touched. "I've never had a friend besides Anna. Oh, and my cat, Olaf."

"I love cats!" I exclaim with a wide grin. " What kind of cat is he?"

"He's this big, fluffy, white persian cat," she informs me, her eyes swimming with adoration at the thought of Olaf. "He's such a cuddler, I can't ever get him off of my lap. You should meet him sometime, you would find him quite lovable."

"I would love to," I say happily.

She smiles at me one last time, a smile that feels like a secret between us two, before Kristoff announces, “We’re here.” A simple family restaurant waits in front of us, one that is far from being expensive.

As Anna walks in with Kristoff, I glance at Elsa and ask, “Ever been here?” With the amount of money she has, I have a hard time imagining her dining at cheap restaurants.

“No, I haven’t,” she replies as she eyes the restaurant curiously. “I usually prepare my own food.”

“You can cook?” I ask, surprised. I think back to the terribly bitter (or overly sweet) cups of hot coffee she had made before. I don’t know why she is better at iced coffee than normal coffee, I always assumed the processes were the same.

“I had to learn, because I find a home cooked meal much more satisfying than bought food,” she tells me as we walk into the restaurant.

“Over here, guys!” Anna calls as she waves at us from a booth. Together, we squeeze into the booth.

“I’ve been here before,” I tell Elsa as I pick up the menu. “Trust me, it’s not so bad.”

******************************************************************************

        After ordering our food and eating, it has become rather awkward for me and Elsa. Why? Because it’s like we are not even here as Anna and Kristoff gaze lovingly into each others’ eyes. The sad thing is they don’t even realize they’re doing it. It no longer feels like a double date, that’s for sure. Leaning close to Elsa, I whisper, “You want to go somewhere? I don’t think they’ll notice we’re missing.”

Elsa glances at Anna once more, looking very much like an over-protective sister. But it passes as she glances back at me, her face softening. “I suppose Anna doesn’t need me here.”

“I know a place we can go, I think you’ll love it,” I tell her as we scoot out of the booth. Anna and Kristoff don’t even glance at us as we walk away.

“Where are we going?” Elsa asks.

“You’ll see,” I reply with a knowing smile.

We walk on in a comfortable silence as the snow drifts around us and crunches beneath our feet. Eventually, we reach my intended destination: a gazebo dusted in snow that glitters like millions of tiny diamonds. Icicles hang from its roof, the ice gleaming in the sunlight like crystals. I don’t say anything as I peek at Elsa to see her reaction. What I see takes my breath away. Her lips are parted as her eyes shine with a radiant glow. Her cheeks, which are normally a creamy white, are rosy pink thanks to the cold wind that caresses her skin and tosses her hair. “It’s beautiful,” she says quietly as a loose strand dances across her face.

Impulsively, my hand darts forward and gently tucks the loose strand behind her ear. She looks at me in surprise, and all I want to do is lean forward and kiss her plush lips, but I quickly say, “Look at this.” I lead her onto the gazebo, allowing us to see the lake of sparkling ice spanning before us. Her grin widens as she gazes at the icy surface.

“Too bad we didn’t bring ice skates,” she says as she stares dreamily into my eyes. Geez, stop looking at me like that! I won’t be able to control myself much longer if you do.

But she keeps on looking, and I find myself thinking, screw it, if I can’t do this now, when can I? I quickly lean forward and swiftly peck her lips. I pull away, my face heated up furiously. “I’m sorry!” I blurt out. “It’s just, I’ve liked you for a very, very long time now, and you just look so beautiful, and I’ve always wanted to tell you first, but I-,”

“[f/n]?” Elsa says softly, interrupting my ramble.

I swallow heavily before answering, “Yes?”

She leans in and kisses me fully on the lips. This kiss is much different from a peck, for I truly get to appreciate how soft and warm her lips are. It feels like fireworks exploded in my stomach and sent sparks to dance across my skin. She pulls away and whispers lovingly, “I love you, too. I was getting quite envious of Anna and Kristoff, for I wanted that sort of relationship with you.”

I’m overcome with so much love that I need to have her closer. Like Anna had done to me previously, I pull Elsa into my arms and hold onto her tightly. “I love you!” I say once more, picking her up off the ground and twirling her around. “I love you!”

Her laughter fills the air as snow flurries around us. After setting her back on her feet, she says, “The snow is starting to get thick. Would you care to head to my house for some hot cocoa?”

“I would love to,” I exclaim as I hold onto her hand. We head to her house and enjoy a warm cuddle fest.

Needless to say, Olaf is in fact a very cuddly cat.

  The End  

#elsa #queen elsa #frozen #disney #disney princess #elsa and reader #reader and elsa #elsa x reader #reader x elsa #reader insert

[landofreadersandinserts]

Wishful Thinking- Jack Frost x Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

As a kid it’s implied you celebrate Christmas, so if it’s something you don’t celebrate due to religion, just pretend~

      The soft glow of the lamp sheds light on my homework as I scribble away on it. But rather than actually doing the homework, I’m doodling. Great, [f/n], procrastinate further! It’s not like it’s midnight (which it is) and it’s not like this homework is due to tomorrow (which it is). With a sigh I push myself away from the desk. I am going to be exhaustedtomorrow, but I need a teensy weensy break that hopefully won’t extend into another hour of wasted time.

My eyes happen to slide past the window, but they swivel back when I notice small puffs of white floating from the sky. It’s snowing! I smile childishly as I rush towards the window and hurriedly slide it open. Peeking my head out into the frigid air, I admire the snow as it dances with the wind. These are the good thick snowflakes, too, not the tiny barely noticeable ones. I withstand the cold a little longer as I admire the view. Hey, maybe enough will pile up and school will be cancelled! Then I wouldn’t have to worry about the stupid homework assignment.

“Thanks, Jack Frost,” I whisper to the blackened sky. It’s not that I necessarily believe in mythical beings like Santa, the Easter Bunny, Jack Frost, and so on. It’s just I want to believe. Ever since I was very young, I’ve always been known as a daydreamer. Even if I know it’s not true, I can still pretend. It’s wishful thinking on my part, but I like to think Jack Frost brings the snow.

A particularly large snowflake slowly falls in front of me. I hold my hand out wonderingly as the snowflake softly lands on my palm and slowly melts away. My eyes lift back to the sky….to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes. With a small scream I retreat into my room as the blue eyes widen in surprise. “You...you can see me?” a boy cries, sounding shocked.

“Who the heck are you?” I shriek. It registers to me that he is at my window. The window on the second floor with no way of being climbed to. The only way possible is...he...he’s flying!

The boy runs his hands through his messy white hair. “You can see me!” he exclaims with excitement. As I continue to retreat further, he holds up his hands frantically. “Wait, stop, it’s ok! I’m Jack Frost!”    

“Jack, Jack Frost?” I repeat incredulously. When he floats into my room I can’t stop my mouth from dropping, for he really is flying. “But how?”

His feet hits the ground as he stares at me questioningly. “How what?”

“How are you Jack Frost?” I ask him as I try to wrap my mind around the situation. “He isn’t real!”

Now Jack looks even more confused. “Wait, you can see me even though you don’t believe in me?”

“Huh?” I breath out, my brain scrambled.

“You’re only supposed to see me if you believe I’m real,” he repeats. “How can you see me?”

“I...,” I begin, but find myself unable to answer. Instead, I collapse onto my bed as I continue to try and process what the hell is happening. Jack Frost is here. In my room. He, in fact, can fly. I can see him.

“Are you ok?” Jack asks with concern as he fidgets nervously. “Look, don’t be scared.”

“I wanted to believe in you,” I whisper more to myself. “So I pretended you were real. But you are real.”

He gives me a friendly smile as he steps closer to me. “Here I am, the one and only Jack Frost,” he says with a cocky eyebrow raised. “So you wanted me to be real?”

At the way he says it, I feel my face slightly flush in embarrassment. “Well, yeah,” I mumble. “It’s dreamy to imagine that snow is magically brought upon by a wizard. I like to daydream, if you can’t tell.” Truthfully, Jack Frost is my favorite mythical being. I never really cared too much about the Easter Bunny or the Toothfairy. Santa was amazing as a kid, but now that I’m grown up and I know where my presents are coming from, he isn’t as amazing. I still like to think little kids get presents from him, though. But Jack Frost, he comes every year for longer than one day. During winter, with the snow and ice everywhere, I feel like Jack Frost is always there by my side. It makes the cold snowy days feel less lonesome. In fact, I had liked to consider Jack Frost as an unseeable friend.

His smile widens as he waves his staff. My eyes widen as icy blue wisps shoot from it, snowflakes drifting from the wood to my floor. With a twirl of the staff, he asks me, “Care to hang out with your dream boy?”

I giggle at his statement. “Watch it, I have a lot of dream boys!” I quickly add, “But sure, I’d like to hang out with you.” This is a dream come true, I don’t want to miss out on such an opportunity. “But, um, can I ask a small favor?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Could you possibly make it snow hard enough so there’s a snow day?” I ask. “I have school tommorow, and honestly I should be asleep by now.”

“Done!” he replies with a snap of his fingers and a wave of his staff. I notice outside the window that the snow is falling down much heavier and thicker.

“Thanks!” I say with a bright grin. “So what do you plan on doing?” As I’m talking I grab my winter coat that was draped across my chair. I’m already betting we’re going outside, so I button it on.

“First off, give me your hand,” he commands. I blink in surprise but wrap my hand around his. His hand is really cold, which I shouldn’t be surprised about because he is a snow wizard and all.

When my feet lift off the ground, a small squeak escapes my mouth. “I’m floating!” I cry in astonishment.

“Better yet,” Jack says as he leads us to the window. “You’re flying!” My breath hitches as he pulls me through the window into the night air. The wind rushes past us, carrying with it the beautiful snowflakes Jack created. I glance down and admire the white wonderland spread out beneath us. The snow sparkles like diamond dust.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmur. We pick up speed as Jack leads me to who knows where. The cold nips at my skin, but I hardly care as we soar freely like birds. Every now and then I can’t help but let out a whoop of joy or a giggle of delight, and each time Jack would look back, his eyes sparkling in amusement. He has such pretty eyes, eyes that can cause my heart to skip a beat.

Suddenly, we stop and slowly drift down. We’re in a wide open field with no signs of human civilization anywhere. The snow lays untouched and pure until our feet sink into it with a crunch. “Look at this,” Jack commands as he tugs me closer to him, his hand still tightly clasping mine.

“It’s a lake,” I say bluntly as I gaze at the lazy water. Ice had started to form at its edges, but it’s not cold enough for the whole lake to be iced.

“And now it is,” Jack begins to say as he waves his staff, “an ice skating rink!” His sparkling blue magic dances across the water’s surface. Each touch of a spark turns the water into ice. Soon the whole lake is frozen solid. My eyes light up and I almost jump onto the ice, but I freeze up in hesitation. What if it isn’t solid enough and I fall through? “It’s alright, it’s safe!” But before I can move, Jack shoves me onto the ice.

As soon as my feet slide across the smooth ice I lose my balance. My arms and legs flail in an attempt to stay up, but it’s no use as my butt slams against the frozen surface. “Jack!” I whine as I plant my hands on the cold surface and carefully try to stand back up. He merely laughs at me as he glides on the ice with practised ease.  

“Try and catch me!” he challenges as he mockingly skates around me.   

I growl slightly as I stand up and try to remain steady on my feet. “You’re gonna pay for that!” I playfully snap as I try to skate my way to him. I’m far from being graceful like Jack is, and each time I get even a little bit close to him he easily slides away. His laughter fills the air as I continuously either fall on my butt or I epically miss. Eventually, I have no other option but to admit defeat. “I give up!” I whine after having fallen on my butt for the hundredth time.

But when he skates close to me and offers his hand to lift me up, I firmly grab it and tug with all my strength. As he falls down with a heavy thud, a high pitched squeak rips from his mouth. The squeak doesn’t suit him at all, which makes it all the more hilarious. “Ha ha, very funny,” he mutters as I laugh loudly.

“Someone’s hitting puberty,” I tease in a singsong voice. My eyes widen, though, when he lifts a hand and taps his staff to it. A perfectly round snowball forms in his hand. “Don’t you dare!” But he does dare. With a quick flick of his hand, and with my bum planted on the ice, there is no escape as the snowball smacks me across the head.

“Snowball fight!” he roars as he floats (so unfair!) off of the ice and flies away.

After safely getting off of the ice without falling, I finally catch up with Jack. I gasp as I take in the sight of multiple complex snow forts Jack had conjured up in the mere two minutes it took for me to get here. He pops out from behind one and tosses a snowball at me, catching me off guard. It plummets against my chest as Jack whoops in victory and lunges behind another fort. I quickly shake my head to regain my senses and duck behind a nearby fort.

******************************************************************************

The battle was ruthless. The pure white snow had been tainted by our scarlet blood. Ok, no, not really. But I did suffer a terrible defeat. When the last snowball had hit me square in the face, I fell over and refused to get up.There is no beating Jack, the snow man, at snowball fights. “I give up!” I declare as I lay defeated.

Jack peeks at me from behind a fort. “This isn’t another trick, is it?” he asks suspiciously.

“Nope, I swear,” I  reply. He cautiously walks over and proceeds to toss himself into the snow like me. I giggle as I begin to move my arms and legs. “Let’s make snow angels!”

Jack chuckles at my childishness, but he does the same. We repeatedly swish our limbs through the snow until eventually we’re both worn out and have made the perfect snow angels. Suddenly, Jack’s hand wraps around mine. I stare at him questioningly, in which he replies, “Your hand is warm, give a guy some warmth!”

“Well ok then,” I say with a small smile.

He stares at me intently, his gaze making me feel warm inside. It’s like he’s mentally painting me into his memory. “You know,” he says softly. “There are only two people in this world who can see me. A kid named Jamie, and you. You’re the only one around my age, though.”

“It must be lonely,” I murmur sadly. For some reason, winter always seemed to be the loneliest season. Maybe because many of the animals would either leave or hide themselves away, and all the plants would die out. To battle that loneliness I pretended Jack was always there with me. But who did he have to keep him company?

“It’s not so bad,” he tells me with a reassuring smile, but I can see a bit of sadness in his eyes. “I’m not so alone now that I’ve become a guardian.”

“A guardian?” I say questioningly.

“Oh, a guardian is nothing big. Just, you know, a hero who protects children. Nothing special,” he replies nonchalantly.

“Nothing special?” I cry with a wide grin. “You’re a superhero!”

“Well, you know,” he says with a smirk and a shrug. “This superhero should be getting you home.”

Ah, he’s right. What is it, like, three in the morning? Plus my clothes are starting to get wet thanks to the snow, and the wind feels much colder than it did before. Yet I don’t want this time with Jack to end. “Will I see you again?” I ask him hopefully.

“Of course! I gotta leave after winter, but you bet I’ll drop by every time winter returns.”

As he flies me home, I can’t help but feel sad even after his reassuring words. To only see him for one season is not enough. I’ve known him for only one day, but he feels like an old friend. Or maybe even something more.      

But once winter had reached its end, Jack left. Now winter is the only season that isn’t lonely for me.

******************************************************************************

    Years passed in this manner, of Jack arriving with the winter and spending time with me. Until I was all grown and ready to move away from home. On that winter, I had kissed him on the nose and said playfully, “Jack Frost will nip at your nose.” I didn’t expect him to pull me into a passionate kiss, nor did I expect him to ask me to go with him once winter ends.

But I already knew my answer, regardless of whether or not he asked. I’m going with him, because I’m in love with Jack Frost, my dream boy.

And as it turns out, he loves me too. A lot, actually. Which was expressed quite obviously in all the kisses he gave me.

Thanks to a little wishful thinking, my dreams came true.

  The End

#jack #jack frost #rise of the guardians #rotg #jack x reader #reader x jack #jack and reader #reader and jack #jack frost x reader #reader x jack frost #jack frost and reader #reader and jack frost #reader insert

[landofreadersandinserts]

Lost Laughter- Laughing Jack x Depressed!Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

In this fic you are drinking alcohol due to depression. If you’re not into alcohol just pretend~

And you like roller coasters and candy apples~

      It all started with a hallucination.

    Wait, no, that’s not true. It actually all started with a dream. A dream I had when I was still happy.

Back then life was simple. I would snuggle in bed feeling like all was right in the world and I would wake up with an eagerness to begin the day. It was no different that fateful night, the night I dreamed of him. Laughing Jack.

*Flashback*

With a content sigh I cover myself with a soft blanket. I ended up spending the late hours of the night on the computer until the point of exhaustion. But I couldn’t help it, I was having too much fun! Sleep is necessary, though, so here I am.

When I drift off to sleep I find myself in a strange amusement park. It kind of reminds me of the amusement park from that one Silent Hill movie, for they both carry a vibe of creepiness. Everything is monochrome and rundown. In the background the tune of Pop Goes the Weasel is playing. But rather than being scared, I’m intrigued. I have an odd interest in that which is morbid. Curiously, I walk around and let my eyes travel this odd figment of my imagination. For a dream it feels rather realistic.

When my eyes land on a white teddy bear hung by a noose a delighted smile lights up my face. I can’t help it, I’ve always had odd interests. On closer inspection I find the bear to have an eerie smile stitched into its face, which only makes it more interesting. I wish I could have one like it in real life!    

“Hello there, sweet!” a deep yet uplifted voice greets. Startled, I swirl around to find a man (if you could call him that) dressed up like a...clown? Like the amusement park he is only colored in white and black. Even his eyes are unnaturally white. His nose is a sharp point and dangling from his hands are long claws. A smile stretches his black lips revealing teeth similar to that of a shark.  

In all honesty the sight of him scares me. His claws could easily rip me apart or he could tear away at my skin with his teeth. Hell, even his nose looks like it could kill me! This is a dream, I remind myself. He isn’t real and he can’t really hurt me. So I swallow down my fear and replace it with laughter. He is a fictional character, a very cool one at that. “Hello,” I greet back. “You look really cool!”

In response to my statement he tilts his head curiously. “I haven’t heard that one before,” he murmurs to himself. His smile stretches even wider as he reaches his hand towards me holding a brightly colored lollipop. “Care for a lollipop?” In this black and white world the rainbow lollipops in his hand stand out like a sore thumb.

“Sure!” I reply happily. I take the lollipop from his hand while being careful to not touch his claws. “Thanks.” I lick the lollipop as I watch the man. Wow, I can even taste the lollipop in this dream! “What’s your name?”

“I am known as Laughing Jack!” he replies brightly.

“Laughing Jack?” I repeat with a small smirk. “What’s so funny?”  

In response Jack laughs loudly, a laugh that could be mistaken as insane. “You’re a strange one,” he says after the laughter subsides. “What is your name?”

“I’m [f/n],” I reply with a smile.

“[f/n],” he repeats as if tasting my name. “Well, [f/n], I like you! I think I’ll keep an eye on you a little longer before I kill you.”

“What?” I ask as dread spills over me.

“I love your smile,” he says cheerfully, ignoring my question. His hand reaches out, claws extended. I feel myself flinch yet I’m unable to move. His claws trace my lips, alarmingly drawing a bit of blood in the process. “I wanna see it for a bit longer.”

“Are you going to kill me?” I ask fearfully. This is just a dream, just a dream, just a dream!

“Not yet,” he replies, his grin eerily wide. Suddenly, a bunch of kids appear out of nowhere. But not normal kids, no, these kids are horribly mutilated. They’re zombies.  

At that instant I awake from the dream. I stare for a long while at my darkened ceiling, willing my heartbeat to slow down. In the darkness I can almost see the children’s eyes looking at me as Jack’s laughter still rings in my ears. I was certain I was going to be ripped to shreds then and there. Even if it was only a dream, it was still scary.

When I eventually calm down, I drift back into dreamless sleep.

*Flashback Ends*

After that night I never really thought about the dream. For a while the image of him was burned into my mind, but as time passed, he was forgotten as all dreams eventually are.

But I remember him now.

I had fallen into depression. I feel utterly lonely all the time. Worthless, even. No matter what I do I can’t make myself feel happy again, or even feel motivated to do the simplest of tasks. I can hardly sleep anymore and I can’t stop thinking. God, I wish I could stop thinking! My thoughts drag me down heavier than anything.

I wanted something, anything, that could make me stop thinking, to stop feeling. So I turned to alcohol. For a awhile it worked. But the more and more I drank, the less and less the alcohol worked. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to stop drinking.

So here I am now, on the floor a drunken mess. I cling uselessly to a empty bottle of whiskey, still wanting more. The world seems to be blurry and spinning around me. Everything just looks grey to me.

Amidst all the grey, blurred spots of color come to my attention. I crawl closer and pick up the colorful object, finding it to be a piece of candy. In fact, here are several pieces of candy lined up like a trail. Mindlessly I follow the candied trail. It leads to my front door, forcing me to stand up on my wobbly legs and open the door. I stumble outside and continue to follow the trail.

When the trail reaches its end I find myself staring at black shoes. Looking up I meet the mirthful eyes of Laughing Jack. All the memories come crashing in. “LJ,” I slur, the nickname formed from my drunken mind.

“We meet again, sweet!” he says happily. “Here’s your prize.” He tosses another piece of candy at me which I somehow manage to catch.

  Until that point I had assumed Jack was just a drunken hallucination. But as I feel the hard candy in my hands I’m starting to doubt that. I swiftly unwrap the candy and pop it in my mouth. Fruity flavor bursts against my tongue, destroying any doubt that the man before me is real. With my legs trembling both due to alcohol and fear, I collapse to the ground. “So that’s it, then,” I say numbly. “You’re here to kill me.”

“Rejoice!” he cheers. “For I’m not here to kill you.” He leans down so he’s eye level with me. “Look around.”

Obeying his command, I try to force the blurry world into focus. What had just been grey turns into black and white. I’m in the amusement park again. “Why did you bother bringing me here?” I ask in an emotionless tone. “Why not just kill me and get it over with?” It’s sad, but the prospect of dying doesn’t bother me like it used to do.

“I don’t want to kill you, my dear [f/n]!” he replies. “I’ve been watching you, and I think you’re worth keeping alive.”

Bitter laughter spews from my mouth. “Yeah, right,” I spit sarcastically. “I’m pathetic! It takes so much energy just for me to get out of bed. Look, quit playing games and just do all of us a favor and kill me.”

“Now now now,” he chides. “You don’t see what I see, sweet. That’s why I’m here to cheer you up!”

“You?” I ask unbelievingly. “A sociopathic clown wants to cheer me up? Great, just great.” I just really feel like crying. I’m tired, I’m always so damn tired.

“You’ll see, I’ll return your lost laughter,” he says with a confidence I doubt greatly. He extends his clawed hand to me which I grab without hesitation. I’ve struggled enough so I’m done struggling. With no effort he lifts me off the ground. “Follow me!” He leads me to a broken down and rusty roller coaster. I stare at him questioningly as he giggles at my gaze. “Watch this!” With a wave of his hand the roller coaster transforms right before my eyes. The rust melts away as the roller coaster becomes fully functional. “I know how you love roller coasters.”

He’s right, I do love roller coasters. But when was the last time I was on one? I can’t even remember. It was before this depression hit me and took over. I say nothing as he guides me to a seat and straps the both of us in. Is this a death trap? I doubt it, not with Jack right beside me. “Ready?” Jack asks me. I nod silently. The coaster kicks off, gradually gaining speed the longer we move. I’m unable to help it as my heart starts to beat faster. Maybe I’m scared of death after all. But as the wind starts rushing past my ears I start to feel a thrill. A thrill like a breath of fresh air. We start looping and turning in such a fast speed it feels like we’re flying. You’d think I would feel sick with all this alcohol churning in my stomach, but I don’t feel sick at all. Quite the opposite. I hadn’t realized I had a small smile on my face until the ride ended.

“That was fun,” I find myself saying as excitement still buzzes through me.

“I know it was,” Jack says smugly. “Care for something to eat?”

As if on cue my stomach grumbles viciously. Considering I’m filled up with nothing but booze, that would make sense. “Yeah,” I mumble, cautiousness eating away at my buzz. What game is this clown playing? I know I can’t trust him.

Jack leads us to a black and white striped booth. “Two candy apples,” he commands to thin air. Or what I thought was thin air, for soon after a ghastly white hand appears from the darkness with two bright red candy apples. When Jack holds out one for me to take I eye it suspiciously. “It’s not poisonous!”

“If you say so,” I say doubtfully as I take the apple. My stomach grumbles again in a demand for food. Well, with Jack watching me so intently, I have no choice but to eat it anyways. I cautiously lick the apple and find it to be sickeningly sweet. To my amazement, I think it is the tastiest thing I have had in ages. I hungrily bite into the apple, savoring each bite.

“How is it?” Jack asks with a wide knowing smile.

“It’s good,” I mumble out, a faint smile dusting my lips.

“I agree, I adore candy apples,” he says as he tears into his own. I can’t help but notice how his sharpened teeth rips at the apple so easily.

When we both finish our apples he leads me to many more  rides. Other roller coasters, spinning teacups, the carousel, the swings, the haunted house, and many more. Through it all my smile inches wider as I progressively start having more fun. It’s almost like Jack isn’t a psychopath but rather an old friend. “Final stop,” he declares as he leads me to the ferris wheel. After I climb in Jack sits in front of me.

We sit in silence until we reach the top. As I gaze at the monochrome world below us, I ask him quietly, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I like you!” he replies with a grin. I used to find his smiles horrifying, but this one smile actually seems, I don’t know, bright.

“But you plan on killing me,” I point out. “You said you liked me and planned on killing me.”

“No, I think you’ll be the one human I keep around,” he says with a chuckle.

“But why?” I ask as I clench my fists. “There’s nothing special about me!”

“Quite the contrary, I find you much more intriguing than anyone I’ve met before. You don’t shy away from what others would cast away with hate and disgust. Your laughter is like music to my ears and your smile is beautiful. And,” he says as he leans forward, “I’d rather do this to you.”

Too surprised to move, I’m unable to stop him as Jack presses his lips against mine. His lips are soft, much more softer than I would’ve imagined. Instead of being repulsed by his kiss, I find my heart beating faster and my face flushing. The kiss actually feels so right.

When he pulls away I can only manage a very confused, “Huh?”

He only smiles as he tells me, “Look outside.”

When I look out the glass window rainbow balloons fill the air. “Wow,” I breath out. I’m much too embarrassed to look at Jack so I spend the rest of the ride watching the colorful balloons. But the ride doesn’t last forever and soon he is offering his hand to help me off of the ride. “Thanks,” I say shyly as I take it.

“Here is your gift for spending the day with me,” Jack says, and in his hands the same white bear with its stitched smile appears.

I gasp as he holds the bear out for me. Taking it from his hands, I murmur, “Jack...thank you, thank you so, so-,” tears spill from my eyes and I’m no longer able to finish the sentence. For once in a long time I didn’t feel depressed. I hadfun. All thanks to this clown standing before me.

He delicately swipes at my tears. “Smile, dear, you look better that way,” he tells me. I give him a watery grin in response, my heart swelling. “Thank you. Our time is over, but we shall meet again.”

“Jack-,” I cry, feeling as if there’s so much I want to say. But my eyes fly open and I find myself tucked in bed.

Was, was it a dream? No! If it was only a dream then reality truly is screwed for me. But my hand brushes against something soft, and when I grab it and bring it in front of me, it’s the white bear. It wasn’t a dream!

With a warm smile I bring the bear close to my heart. My eyes droop into well needed peaceful sleep.

Maybe I’m not so worthless after all.

The End               

#jack #laughing jack #creepypasta #jack x reader #reader x jack #jack and reader #reader and jack #laughing jack x reader #reader x laughing jack #laughing jack and reader #reader and laughing jack #reader insert #LJ

[landofreadersandinserts]

Winter Warmth- Rose x Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

[f/c]= favorite color

You like hot chocolate in this fic~

      A small yawn stretches my lips as I tiredly rub at my eyes. I glance back down at the story I’m reading, but I decide I've had enough reading for one day. I did kind of go on a reading splurge, and now I can’t really get into the story anymore. So instead, I peek at the companion sitting beside me, Rose Lalonde. Her knitting needles click together as she entwines [f/c] colored yarn into what looks like is going to be a scarf. Rose’s house has a fancy fireplace, and I try to secretly admire the glow of the fire dancing across Rose’s smooth and pale skin. She glances at me, and I quickly focus my gaze on the story as if I’ve been intently reading it.

“[f/n]?” Rose says inquiringly.

“Yes?” I reply nonchalantly, hoping she hasn’t noticed that I was checking her out.

“Would  you care for some hot chocolate?” she asks with a small smile that I could swear is a smirk.

“Yes, please,” I respond with a small smile of my own.

“Then wait for me, I shall return shorty,” she commands as she puts aside her knitting needles.

“Sure, thank you!” I call after her as she walks away. With nothing better to do, I hum a little tune to myself as my eyes sweep across the room for anything of interest. Rose’s yarn basket containing yarn of various colors rests beside the sofa I sit on. Knitting is a hobby of hers  I find adorable. I can’t count the number of items she has knitted herself, and I have to say, her work always looks professionally done. On the sofa, there are two squiddles tangled together, a gift from Jade. One is light purple, while the other happens to be my favorite color. It’s more than likely a coincidence, but I can’t help but feel a bit bubbly inside at the thought of the cuddling squiddles representing me and Rose.      

“I’ve returned,” Rose announces, bringing me back from my daydreams. “Here.” She hands me a cup of hot chocolate, steam rising from its surface.

“Thanks,” I say gratefully as I take the warm cup from her hands, our fingers grazing in the process. Her skin is so soft, I can’t help but think to myself. She settles beside me as I blow on the hot chocolate so I don’t burn my tongue.

“I take it you’re bored,” Rose states matter of factly.

“No, I’m not!” I lie, but it’s really only a half lie. I am bored, but I’m not bored of the person I’m with.

“I know you’ve been staring at that story for ten minutes without actually reading it, [f/n],” she points out with a knowing smile. “Would you like to go outside for a bit? We could engage in snowball fights and the like.”

“Sure,” I rely, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice. I’m the one out of the two who tends to, well, act a bit childishly, like rolling around in the snow. Rose, on the other hand, is graceful and sophisticated, not someone I could imagine making snow angels. Well, unless she’s drunk. When drunk, Rose can be quite childish herself, and even then I still adore her. “You didn’t drink any eggnog though, did you?” I tease.  

With a chuckle, Rose replies, “It’s sad when people think I have to be drunk to have any fun. No, I’m plenty sober. Now let’s not waste any more time and get outside, shall we?”

“Yes, milady!” I say with mock sophistication before chugging the hot chocolate. After grabbing my coat and swiftly tugging it on, I open the door and wave my hands in an imitation of a butler. “After you.”

With that soft giggle of hers that can barely be heard, she says, “Thank you kindly,” before heading out the door. I follow after her, flinching slightly as the cold wind stabs at me. “What would you like to partake in?”

“Hmm,” I hum in thought. I want to do something not too wild, because I’m not sure if Rose wants to be plummeted by a bunch of snowballs right away. I know, I can channel her creativity! In a singsong voice, I ask, “Do you want to build a snowman?”

She rolls her eyes with a smirk, but replies in singsong as well, “Come on let’s go and play.”

I laugh giddily at her response before I dig my hand into the snow. Rose follows suit, and soon we’re both patting the cold white powder into a firm snowball. Somehow, we end up having a race as we dash through the snow, our snowballs progressively becoming bigger. The race ends, however, when I utterly lose control of my boulder sized snowball and I have to chase it across Rose’s premises because the thing frickin’ refuses to stop. Eventually, though, I catch it. “Got you, you bastard!” I cry in victory.

“[f/n]!” Rose gasps with mock offense. “Don’t talk to our snow baby in such a manner!”

God, I must have it really, really bad, because the mere mention of raising a child with Rose, in the form of a snow baby, has me blushing. “Sorry,” I mumble as I roll the the snowball into proper position. I glance at Rose’s snowball and compare the size of her’s to mine. “Looks like mine will be the bottom. Help me lift yours.” Together, we carefully try to lift the snowball without causing it to crumble. With success, we manage to heft the snowball on top of mine.

“How about you make the head, and I’ll gather accessories?” Rose offers.

“Sure,” I reply, my hands already patting at snow. “Get only the best for our child!”

“Only the best for our baby,” she agrees before disappearing into her house.

By the time she returns, carrying a box of various items, I’ve got the head safely secured on the snowman. “What’cha get?” I ask her.

“Buttons, a scarf, a carrot, and and a top hat,” she informs me.   

“I assume our snowman is a boy?” I question her.

“He will be quite the gentleman,” she replies with a small smile. Together we wrap the scarf around the snowman’s neck, form a smiley face with buttons, place the top hat on his head, and drill the carrot in as his nose.

As we step back to admire our work, I ask, “What will we name him?”   

“Cthulhu,” Rose immediately replies.

“Rose, no.”

“Why not?” she asks innocently.

“I don’t want a tentababy, I just don’t,” I reply seriously, but my voice is filled with constrained laughter.      

She grins at me in amusement. "Then how about Damien? I rather like the name Damien."

"Probably because it almost sounds like demon," I say with a giggle. "But sure, I don't mind." I turn my attention to the snowman. "Welcome to the family, Damien."

But the warm family welcome is ruined when suddenly, my head is blasted with cold and firm snow. Stunned, I turn around to see Rose smirking at me with another snowball in her hand. Just as it registers what happened, she tosses the other snowball at me. I swiftly drop to the ground, just barely dodging the snowball. I stand up and dust off the snow as Rose chuckles at me. With a playful glare, I grind out, "It's. On."

I scoop up some snow as Rose quickly does the same. But I'm quicker, and soon a snowball is flying through the air and splatters against Rose's head, the snow blending together with Rose's pure white hair. "I am a merciless warrior, [f/n], and you shall be slaughtered!" she says with playful sinisterness.

"Well I'm a level 99 paladin and I'm born to slay beings of darkness," I joke as we plummet each other with snowballs.

We continue our battle even as I start to feel breathless. I heft one of the finer snowballs I've made with all my might. One of Rose's snowballs hits my shoulder as I am throwing, but my snowball hits her square in the face. Rose rubs her cheek as I laugh at the perfection of my throw. “You will pay for that!” Rose cries before lunging towards me. Taken by surprise, I am unable to dodge as she tackles me to the ground.

“Get off me, you fiend!” I laugh as I try to shake her off of me, but to no avail. I give up struggling as I admit surrender, my eyes flying to Rose’s face in mirth. The laughter dies in my throat, however, when her violet eyes stare at me in such a seducing manner. Heat rushes to my face as my heart starts to pound. Nervous laughter replaces the amused laughter I had moments ago. “Ok, Rose, seriously, you can get off me now.”  

“I do recall you mentioning how your snowball was the bottom,” she purrs rather suggestively. “Kind of like the situation we’re in now.”

My blush deepens as I squirm under her gaze. “So I’m on the bottom, what are you implying?”

“That I’m the topper in this relationship,” she replies before swooping down and capturing my lips with her own. All of my senses die except for the sense of touch. Her lips are as soft as I imagined them, as well as nice and plush. Warm, too, very warm. I’m left dumbstruck for a long while before Rose pulls away. “[f/n]?”

“Uh,” I breath out, the world seeming to fade back into existence. “Why, why did you…?”

Rose almost looks nervous as she tells me, “I am quite infatuated with you, [f/n].” She’s trying to look confident, but her cheeks are colored a beautiful shade of pink.

“Really?” I say with disbelief. It seems too good to be true.  

“Of course!” she replies firmly. “As I am the darkness that comforts the night, you are the sun that brings me life.”

“I’m not as poetic as you,” I say slowly, “but I will say I love you, too. I’ve been in love with you for a long time! But, erm, as much as I enjoy this situation, this snow is freezing. Can we get inside?”

With one more peck on the lips, Rose replies, “Of course, hon. I even have clothes you can change into before the snow melts and wettens your clothing.”

“Thank you, love,” I say with a loving smile, the nickname sweet on my tongue. Rose stands up and offers her hand, which I gratefully take. Her hand is cold, yet it manages to warm up my heart. Hand in hand, we enter her household.

“I shall return with your attire,” Rose informs me as I lay shivering by the fire.

“Thanks,” I chatter as she walks away.

When she returns, she is carrying a [f/c] colored sweater. “I had this knitted a while back, for I was planning to give it you once I admitted my feelings,” she informs me as she hands me the sweater decorated with various patterns.

“Thank you,” I say warmly as I take the sweater. “I’ll be right back!” I quickly leave to a bathroom and change my clothes. When I return, Rose is sitting by the fire with a blanket in her lap.

“Care to share warmth?” she asks me, and I nod with a blush. I sit down beside her and she wraps us in a blanket. I snuggle against her as her head rests on my shoulder. I don’t complain about how her hair tickles my cheek, for I’m enjoying the moment too much. Soon enough, we’re both warm and snug as we gaze at the fire in comfortable silence.

Forever after, we will keep each other warm even on the coldest of days.

  The End     

#rose #rose lalonde #homestuck #rose x reader #reader x rose #rose and reader #reader and rose #rose lalonde x reader #reader x rose lalonde #reader and rose lalonde #rose lalonde and reader #reader insert

[landofreadersandinserts]

Has anyone considered the ship name for Karkat x Sollux as Honey Sickle? Or for John x Jade, Breathing Space?

Things I think of when I'm bored. 

#karkat #karkat vantas #sollux #sollux captor #john #john egbert #jade #jade harley #homestuck #karkat x sollux #karkat and sollux #solkat #ketchup and mustard #crabs and bees #McDonalds #john x jade #john and jade #prospitcest #dorkcest #sollux x karkat #sollux and karkat #jade x john #jade and john #honey sickle #breathing space #ship names #shipping #i ship it #otp

[landofreadersandinserts]

Mr. Grinch- Karkat x Neko!Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

Neko means cat in Japanese. So you, reader, are half-cat in this fic.

In this fic, you have a fireplace~

Merry Christmas!

  “Hey, Grumpy Nubs!” I call Karkat as I try to reach that one spot on the Christmas tree that is just barely out of my reach. “Come here, I need your help!” After spending a couple years together, I’m surprised to find that Karkat has grown to be pretty tall. He was so short when we were younger, I had never thought he would hit that growth spurt!

“Fucking preoccupied here!” he yells back frustratingly. A tangled mess of Christmas lights rest on his lap, his fingers fumbling through them in an attempt to get them untangled.

Seeing as how frustrated he is, I walk over and sit next to him. “Here, I’ll do the lights, you can go put ornaments on the tree where I can’t reach,” I tell him as I take the lights off of his lap. Being the grumpy troll he is, it’s hard to get Karkat in the Christmas spirit, so I’m lucky he’s helping at all.

“Thank Gog, I was about to strangle myself with those lights just so I wouldn’t have to waste my time with them anymore," he grumbles as he stomps towards the tree.

I roll my eyes, but a fond smile graces my lips. As I look at the lights, trying to figure out how I'll start untangling, I feel my cat ears flick thoughtfully. It took me a long time to get used to my cat ears after fusing with my sprite, which was composed of a cat and my dead dream self. But now they feel natural.

After finally figuring out how to start, my hands set to work on pulling and arranging the lights.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Karkat?" I call helplessly.

"What?" he replies, hidden behind the tree.

"I'm stuck," I inform him.

"What?" he says as he appears from behind the tree. He takes one look at me before he eyes me in exaggeration. "Seriously?"

On the floor, I'm completely and utterly tangled with the lights. I don't know what happened; one moment I was thinking how the lights remind me of yarn, and the next I'm overcome with the need to roll around in them. "Can you help me?" I ask helplessly.

"How in the raging flames of human hell did you manage this?" he mumbles as he tries to pull the lights off of me.

"Kya!" I squeal when his hand prods the bare skin beneath my ribcage, my shirt having ridden up. It happens to be a ticklish spot for me. "Karkat!" Karkat smirks at me, sending chills down my spine. "Don't you dare!"

But to my alarm, he did dare. Both his hands fly to my sides, his fingers prodding at my skin. Erupt laughter prevents me from being able to say stop. Squirming to escape his fingers, my legs kick out, accidentally hitting Karkat's legs in the process. His legs fly out from beneath him, causing him to collapse on top of me. Even though the tickling stopped, I still can't catch my breath, not with Karkat's face looming so close to mine.

I watch as his gaze flickers to my lips, causing my heart to skip a beat. "Careful," I breath out. "Or you'll get tangled too." His face flushes a bright red before he scrambles off of me.

“My head’s not stuffed with sopor slime like yours is, of course I wouldn’t make the same mistake!” he snaps as he resumes loosening the lights around me. But I’ve become hypersensitive to the sensation of his fingers grazing my skin. Blushing, and unable to look him in the eyes, I focus my gaze on a wall as he works on the lights.

Eventually, I’m free. “Thank you!” I say gratefully as I stand up, relishing in the freedom of movement.

“Now that you’re off your fucking ass, help me with this painful pine bush,” he orders as he returns to the tree.

“It’s a Christmas tree, Mr. Grinch” I correct him as I grab an ornament and place it on the tree.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I breath out, my eyes shining in wonderment as I take in the glimmering lights. The tree sparkles in merriment, the colors of the glass bulbs shining like vibrant beacons.

“Yeah, it’s good enough,” Karkat gruffly replies, but from the soft expression on his face, I can tell he finds the tree beautiful too.

However, the longer I stare at the tree, the more I start to feel an urge to do something. My eyes travel up the tree, and suddenly, I need to be up there, too. “[f/n]?” Karkat calls, but his words fall on deaf ears. I feel my feet start to rapidly move as I charge at the pine. “[f/n]!”

With a leap, I toss myself at the tree. My body collides with the pine, toppling it with my weight. Together with the tree, we crash to the ground, the sounds of shattering glass surrounding me. When the last bulb breaks, silence following its death, it feels like I’ve been snapped out of a daze. “Karkat?” I say questioningly. What have I done?

When I glance at him, I feel my stomach drop. His body trembles with barely concealed rage, his face contorted in fury. “Why on this mediocre planet did you do that?” he roars.

“I-I’m so sorry,” I say quietly, horrified by what I’ve done. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it all back together!”

“Don’t bother!” he spits out, causing me to flinch. “This damn scheme of a holiday is worthless, anyways! It’s only an excuse for humans to waste away their money on meaningless presents that will eventually be tossed aside, and to greedily expect presents in return. I don’t need some stupid tree with its superficial lights! I don’t need Christmas!”

“Don’t say that!” I cry, my eyes stinging with tears. But Karkat doesn’t respond, and instead turns away from me. I hear his stomping feet moving farther and farther away from me. “You-you’re such a Grinch!” I shout after him, but he’s already gone. There is only me and the mess I’ve created.

A teardrop slides down my cheek, mixing with the shards of glass scattered about. I’ve really screwed up this time. I take in the pitiful sight of the tree strewn across the ground, its glory slayed by my cat like nature. My heart squeezes painfully, and I’m no longer able to bear the sight any longer. Without even putting a coat on, I numbly walk outside. Snow gently flutters from the sky, a sight that would normally childishly astonish me, but in my misery, I hardly notice it. I plop to the ground and bury my face in my hands. I wanted very badly to make this Christmas special for Karkat, but I royally screwed it up. It’s my fault Christmas was ruined for him.

Within all this silence, I even miss Karkat’s yelling. My body trembles as the cold starts to nip at me more fiercely, leaving behind goosebumps with its touch. I know I should go inside, it’s far too cold out here, but I don’t quite feel like going back yet. How long have I been out here? I think I’ve been out here a long time.  

Yet as I shiver, suddenly, something warm and soft wraps around my neck. My hand raises to my neck to touch the red fabric, and I realize it’s a scarf. Shocked, I turn around to find Karkat staring at me apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he mutters as he sits down beside me. “I acted like such a prick. I guess my mind is stuffed with sopor slime, too.”

Sniffling, I blink away the blurriness. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” I bumble through the tears. “We worked so hard on the tree, and I go and knock it over all because of my compulsive urges. Ever since I’ve become half-cat, I’ve started to act a bit differently, like my sudden obsessive need for fish, or-or the need to climb the Christmas tree. I’m so sorry, it’s so hard to control them.”

Karkat’s arm wraps around me, bringing me close. “You’re shivering too damn much,” he says with a strange loving anger. “Look, I’m not angry at you anymore, so let’s go inside.”

“Okay,” I reply glumly. I stand up, my skin feeling like it’s frozen. But when I walk into the homey warmth of my home, my eyes widen in astonishment. The tree is no longer sprawled across the ground, and instead it stands up tall and proud. The ornaments that hadn’t been broken by the impact have been clumsily placed on the tree; even the lights have been messily wrapped around the pine. In my fireplace, a welcoming fire greets me. “Karkat?”

“I was wrong about Christmas,” he tells me as leads me to the couch. “I was just angry. After meeting you, well, I like spending Christmas with you. I know I’m a total jackass sometimes, and I’m really undeserving, but all I want for Christmas is to spend it with you, cat ears and all. Even though I’m a cannibalistic piece of shit who eats his own shit, will you grant my Christmas wish?”

Karkat watches me with pleading eyes, looking as if he’s about to be rejected. A wide smile spreads across my face as I reply, “Of course, I would love to spend Christmas with you! I’ve been trying hard these past years to get you to enjoy Christmas so you’d want to celebrate it with me.”

“Well, somehow with your dimwitted lovableness, you’ve managed that,” he says with an amused sigh.

“You think I’m lovable?” I tease as I lightly elbow him.        

He blushes at my words and abruptly turns away from me. He heads to the T.V. as he tells me, “I’ve brought one of those human Christmas movies to watch.”

“Which one?” I ask I settle comfortably onto my sofa. Karkat mumbles under his breath, making it impossible for me to hear him. “What?”

“The Grinch,” he grumbles.

“No way!” I laugh as the irony of it all sinks in. After putting the movie in, Karkat settles beside me, and I can’t help but notice how our knees bump together. I grab a blanket I keep on the sofa’s headrest and wrap it around the both of us. “Let’s start the movie!”

But by the time we’re half way through the movie, the warm fire has lulled me into a dreamy sleepiness. Too tired to care about the consequences, my head droops against Karkat’s shoulder. “[f/n]?” he whispers softly.

“Hm?��� I hum sleepily as my eyes droop shut.

“I love you,” he replies.

My eyes fly open in surprise, but before I can say anything, Karkat’s lips press softly against mine. He pulls away and stares intently at the T.V. as if it never happened, leaving me breathless.

I feel a purr rumble in my throat as I tell him, “I love you, too.” He stares back at me in surprise, and I take the opportunity to lean in and peck his lips once more. “And his heart grew three sizes that day,” I murmur as I find myself falling asleep on his shoulder with a warm grin on my face.

He may be the Grinch, but I can’t have a Christmas without him.

  The End

#karkat #karkat vantas #homestuck #karkat x reader #reader x karkat #karkat and reader #reader and karkat #karkat vantas x reader #reader x karkat vantas #karkat vantas and reader #reader and karkat vantas #reader insert #christmas

[landofreadersandinserts]

She Had Nightmares in Her Eyes

I was only eight when my parents told me I would have a new sister, a girl one year younger than I am. They told me she lived a sad and scary life, and that no matter how she may act, I had to show her plenty of love and kindness or she would never heal.

    People in uniforms brought her in, a girl with dark eyes and messy hair that swept forth and covered her face, making her seem like she wasn’t really there; she was more like a shadow than a person. My parents talked to her with words filled with love and light, but I merely stood back and observed this girl who seemed like she was from a world far different from mine. Her eyes were glazed and unseeing, and it seemed like none of the words she could hear, but my parents continued nonetheless.

I ventured a hello to her, but the words seemed to drown in the emotionless darkness that she wore like a protective cloak.

The girl had nightmares in her eyes.

When she was taken to her bedroom, a pretty room of pink and dolls and all things that seemed fit for a little girl, it seemed like she was never there in the first place. I asked my parents why she looked like she was having nightmares, and they told me in a way a child could understand: that she had seen monsters, but her monsters were not dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But as emotionless as she seemed, it surprised me how much rage she kept bundled up in her tiny little body. There was no telling what could trigger it: kind words seemed to set off a bomb in her, hate exploding off of her in mistrustful waves.

One morning, a day my mother made pancakes which I cheerfully stuffed my face with, my mom merely told the girl that she was loved. And just like that, the girl lashed out with hateful words that tried to morph Mom’s love into a lie. I stare in shock and confusion as the girl stomps off to lock herself away from us, as if we were monsters that meant to hurt her. I glance at my parents, but instead of shock, their faces were sad and pitying. But me, I was angry. How dare she yell at us when we did nothing to her?

Feeling as if I’ve been dealt an injustice, I storm upstairs to confront the girl and demand an apology. But I stop dead when painful sobs penetrate through the wooden door that weakly tried to keep the world out. And just like that, the anger melted away into a strange concern that was new to me. I’ve heard children cry before, I’ve cried plenty of times myself, but I’ve never in my life heard crying like this. I was stuck at the door with an intense need to help somehow, but unsure of what I could do.

So I open the door, ready for whatever she had to throw at me, and I approach the tiny fragile girl who had already been broken and barely glued back together. Her sobs abruptly stop, her face straining with the effort of keeping them in, but she couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her face. As a child, I had no elaborate words that could make her feel better, so all I could do was sit on the floor and ask her what’s wrong.

She glared at me and told me to go away, but I refused to budge. She tried to sound angry through all her tears, tried with all her might to make me leave, but I continued to stubbornly watch her. She tried so hard until finally she had no more strength left, and she could no longer hold back the sobs. Her body trembled as cries wrenched themselves from deep within her, and when I wrap my arms around her, she has no strength to push me away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that day, it seemed like the words she wielded like a knife dulled until they hardly seemed sharp anymore. She was still angry at us for reasons I couldn’t understand, but she was no longer like a wound up bomb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Years passed, and soon, the little girl was no longer little as we started our lives in high school. She lost her anger she had held so close to her, and all it left her was nothing but sadness that was always reflected in her dark eyes. She tries to be nice to my parents: she always does what she is told and never gets in trouble, but she has a wall built that never lets any one of us get too close.

But me, I lived a life filled with laughter because laughter is truly a drug. The girl kept her distance from me, and I didn’t try to lessen it. I had myself to worry about, and friends who seemed to want me around, so I wasn’t going to force myself on her if she didn’t seem to truly like me.

But when she started coming home with eyes that reminded me of bruises, I couldn’t look away. If I looked away, I was worried she would simply disappear. And I didn’t want that girl, with her dark eyes and nightmares and a fire she tried so hard to keep lit, to disappear.

When I found a white sink stained with blood, I immediately rushed to her room, a room still painted pink even though I know she hates the color. She sits crumbled on the floor, blood flowing from gashes on her arms, red tears falling to the floor. She stares at me numbly as I gather any cloth I can find and press them to her arms, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. Once again, I find myself asking her what’s wrong.

She tells me to go away, but not with that fire she had years ago. She sounds defeated, and spent, like a fire that was doused into nothing but smoke and ashes. But I’m no longer a child, either, and I equip my words to relentlessly attack her until she has no choice but to tell me what’s wrong. She tells me she isn’t sure what hurts her worse anymore: words, eyes, or memories. I find out she has been bullied, because she’s different, and I know it’s because she has nightmares in her eyes. People don’t understand the world she’s lived, the monsters she’s seen, and it makes them resentful because they refuse to believe that anyone has it any worse than they do.

But she tells me, she’s pretty sure it’s the memories that hurt the worst. Her past was always taboo to talk about; my parents knew what happened to her, but neither them or the girl would speak of it with me. But here, with the girl watching me press cloth to her bleeding arms, the wall starts to crumble as she finally lets me in. She tells me of bruises and blood, of hate and abuse. Of words that could kill a child worse than any blade could. Of her father’s drunken breath that would trail sinful kisses on her neck, of her mother’s spite as she blamed the girl for her father’s betrayal.

As she tells me this, I feel tears trail down my own face. She watches as the tears slip and mix into the blood, her eyes searching me for a reason. She had been so numb before, but as she watches me wordlessly cry, she finds herself crying as well. This time, it’s her arms that wrap around me and bring me close as both our bodies tremble with tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    After that, the girl tried to live like me. She tried to laugh and smile, and it made my parents ecstatic as they believed the nightmares finally went away. But me, I knew better. A smile takes as much effort as a frown, and either one could be worn easily without feeling it. If she was going to smile, I wanted her to feel happy while doing it.

    So I drew her close into my world, joked and played with her until I saw something spark in her dark eyes as she couldn’t help but laugh. I bent backwards and over if it meant I could see that fake small smile stretch into a wide amused one. I may not know her world, but I wanted her to know mine. The distance we had lessened until there was no longer any distance.

    She seemed happy with me, and I almost believed the nightmares were gone, too. But one night, as I was snug in my own sweet dreams, I’m ripped into awakeness as screams fill the air. It’s only the girl and me home, and I quickly run to her room. She’s sitting up in a tangle of blankets, sweat glistening on her skin and fear swimming in her eyes. When she sees me, her face is overcome with a neediness I’ve never seen on her before, and I’m shocked when her trembling hands reach for me, like a child begging for an embrace. But a second passes, and she realizes what she’s doing. Her arms drop limply to her side and her face as well, shadows preventing me from seeing any emotion. When she looks at me again, she has that small, fake smile on. She tells me she’s sorry for waking me up, that she’s just having nightmares.

And at that moment, I find myself flying to her side, her bed creaking under my weight, as I sweep her into my arms. She never has to ask, for I’m more than willing to do it for her sake. As she shivers in my arms, I tell her that the monsters are long gone. They are nothing more but nightmares, and nightmares are not real. She can’t be hurt by them anymore, she only has memories of being hurt. And someday, she’ll have more happy memories than she does sad ones. Give it time, she’ll see, and the memories will be buried so deep that she’ll no longer be able to dream of them. I promise, I tell her, there’s much more to life, moments she’ll treasure and people who will treasure her.

And when the morning sun rises, awakening the both of us who had fallen asleep in her bed, she tells me, she had a nice dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The piano plays cheerfully as the smell of flowers float around in the air. The girl glances at me with a smile as she holds the hand of a man who loves her, who can see in her what I too saw. I smile back, wondering at how long ago, her dark eyes used to be so dull, but now they shine and sparkle with excitement and love. It’s not a small spark anymore; her eyes contain a roaring, warm fire.

    She adorns a pure, white dress, which I think is fitting for the innocence she has that she used to think she lacked. She tells the man, I do, and they kiss. I notice how she can’t stop grinning as she kisses the man, an infectious grin that has me smiling as I watch her shine.

And after she has had her fill of dancing with her love, she waltzes over to me and begs me for a dance. My arms wrap around her as we slowly sway to the music, both of us glowing with happiness. As I hold her close, I’m reminded of all those times I’ve held her before, of all the tears she shed. But now, I can hold her as she is smiling, and I could wish for nothing more.

She had nightmares in her eyes.

But had is the key word, for now, she has hopes and dreams sparkling in her eyes.   

Author’s Note:

I know this isn’t a reader insert, but I’ve had one of those moments where an idea floats in your head with such a passion that you’re driven to write it no matter what. I believe the message of this story is very important, and I hope this story helps somebody, because I believe I was driven to write it for the sake of those who’ve suffered a terrible past.

#abuse #child abuse #neglect #bullying #self harm #self-harm #cutting #hope #it gets better #suicide #self abuse #inspiration #inspirational #depression #depressed #sad #sadness #happy #happiness #live #love #life #smile

[landofreadersandinserts]

Worrywirt- Wirt x Druid!Reader [2]

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

      “We’re ok, Worrywirt!” I exclaim with a chuckle as Wirt watches us anxiously.

“Almost got it!” Greg declares, reaching for the kite that is tangled with the branches. I hold Greg in my arms so he doesn’t fall, considering we’re perched on a very high branch. Wirt watches us from down below, constantly fretting about the perils of falling.

“We don’t even need the kite!” Wirt claims as he paces around the base of the tree. “We’re leaving today!” At his statement, I feel my smile falter. Winter is already over; it flew by so fast. And just like the snow, the warm moments I share with Wirt and Greg will melt into nothing. Soon, my home will be empty once again.

“Got it!” Greg cheers happily as he stretches out as far as he can and swipes at the kite.

“No, wait, Greg-,” I cry as he wobbles, his weight causing me to tip sideways. My heart stops as the world flips around, wind rushing past us as we plummet towards the ground. While my mind is frozen with panic, my body kicks into gear. My hand flings out, causing the words to appear in my mind, Sweep forth and lift us away! The wind rushes below us, but fear pierces through my heart with the sudden realization that the wind is not strong enough to support our weight.Greg! I wrap my free arm tight around Greg, bearing my back to the ground. At the very least, I’ll take all the damage.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight as I wait for the impact. But I never feel the painful collision. Shocked, my eyes fly open to meet Wirt’s frightened eyes. He holds me in his trembling arms, his face strained with the effort of holding our weight. I feel his legs give out from under him, and we all tumble to the ground in a heap of bodies. Even after the fear and shock subsides, I can’t seem to stop my body from shaking. “I-I-I,” I hear Wirt’s voice from under us. “I can’t believe I managed that!”

“You saved us!” I breathe out as I scramble off of him, hefting Greg with me. “You saved us, Wirt!”

“You’re a hero!” Greg adds with a bright smile.

Wirt grunts painfully as he sits up, his eyes flying to meet mine. “Are you ok?” he asks worriedly.

“I’m fine, thanks to you!” I reply gratefully. Even still, he scrambles to my side and immediately begins inspecting my body for injuries. As his hands graze my skin, I feel my face warm up. “I’m fine, Wirt!”

“Ah, sorry!” he cries as his hands spring away from me, his face flushed light pink.

“We should get packing for our journey,” I mumble as I stand up and dust myself off.

“Yes, let’s!” Wirt agrees, his voice a little more higher pitched than normal. “Let’s go, Greg.”

The little boy dashes ahead of us as he exclaims, “I can’t forget the rock! I have to return it.”

Wirt trails behind, much slower and less enthusiastic than his brother. I stay still as I watch their retreating figures, my heart throbbing painfully. They’re leaving today, and I may never see them again. After living with them, I have found out that they live in a separate world from mine. Once they return to it, who knows if they can ever come back. But even so, it is their wish to return home, and who am I to stop them? But where is my home? I shake the thought away, not willing to think about it any longer. Collecting myself, I force myself to walk through the door leading to my house.

Upstairs, I can hear Wirt and Greg stomping around. Wirt is surely chasing Greg  for some reason. How I’ll miss the noise those two brought into this household. But I can’t keep thinking like this, for no matter how depressed I get, I must do what I must. I grab the small leather satchel I always take with me on my travels and I start filling it with the basic necessities. Food, water, healing herbs in case of injury, a blanket. I grab two extra blankets, for Wirt and Greg, and stuff them into the satchel. Since the gateway that leads to Wirt’s world is not that far, I don’t need to pack much.  

“Wirt? Greg?” I call upstairs. “Are you about ready?”

“Yes!” Wirt huffs out as he stomps down the stairs, his hat askew.

“What happened?” I ask him with a small smile.

“Greg took my, erm, notebook and wouldn’t give it back,” he mutters in reply.

“What’s written in the notebook?” I ask curiously.

“Nothing!” he squeaks out much too quickly. As I watch him suspiciously, he clears his throat and tries another feeble attempt. “Just, you know, notes about, um, things I’ve witnessed around here.”

“Wirt,” I say sternly, but with a knowing smile. “I know you’re lying.”

“N-no I’m not!” he protests, his voice once again wearing a high pitch.

Giggling at his embarrassment, I relent, “Alright, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.” The sound of clomping shoes grabs my attention, and I watch as Greg walks down the stairs, holding his frog in his arms. “Are you ready, Greg?”

“I’m just saying my goodbyes to Jason,” Greg tells me, his tone slightly saddened. “I think it’s best for him to stay where he belongs.”

I lean down so I’m leveled with the frog, who is currently called Jason. “Jason, what do you wish? Do you want to stay in this world, or do you want to go with Greg?”

In a croak that could be nothing more than a croak to Wirt and Greg, Jason tells me, “I’d rather go with Greg. I’ve become rather attached to the little bugger.”

“I thought so,” I say as I look up at Greg with a smile. “Jason says he would rather be with you guys.”

“Really?” Greg breaths out with relief. “Then you’re officially part of the family, Jason!”

Looking at the both of them, fighting away the sadness that builds in my throat, I ask once more, “Are you both ready?”

“Yeah, we’ve got everything,” Wirt confirms.

“Then let’s go,” I say with a tired, forced smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I think here is a good spot," I tell them as I toss my satchel to the ground. Night has cast its shadows across the land, and our legs are aching from walking. There are too many of us to ride the wind, and with no horses, we had no choice but to walk. "We should reach the gateway tomorrow."

"I'll start the fire," Wirt declares, and sets out to fetch some firewood. Greg plops down on to the ground and begins singing a little tune while I begin setting up our makeshift beds.

By the time the fire is roaring, I'm nestled comfortably in my nest of blankets.

Greg is already fast asleep, Jason snoozing beside him. I yawn sleepily as I watch Wirt, who is looking up at the stars. "Aren't you going to sleep?" I ask him.

" I'm not tired," he mutters absentmindedly. "Go ahead and sleep, I'll keep watch for a bit."

"Well, if you say so," I respond as I lay down and snuggle into my blanket. Quiet settles over us, the fire crackling like a lullaby. I stare at Wirt drowsily, and I can't help but tiredly whisper to him, "I'm going to miss you."

He glances at me, his eyes shining with something I can't exactly place. "I'm going to miss you, too," he whispers sadly before I'm taken by sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The moonlight strokes across your skin, caressing you in the way I can't," a voice whispers, awakening me from my sleep. However, I keep my eyes shut, for I'm curious on what's being said. "Your lips part for your heavenly breath, tempting a kiss I wish to plant. If only I could gaze in your eyes, which rest behind your blissful sleep. Will you ever know of this love I keep?"

His words wash over me, spreading warmth like the heat from the fire. "Wirt?" I mumble out, opening my eyes shyly.

"[f-f-f/n]!" he stutters, his face flushed red. "W-what are you doing up?"

"I heard you talking," I reply softly. "Was that a poem?"

Wirt twitches his mouth open, but before he can come up with anything to say, Greg perks up, "He has a whole notebook filled with poetry about you."

"Greg!" Wirt squeaks out, horrified. "He, he's lying. I don't really care for poetry, it's just something I do when there's nothing better to do. Ah! But there's nothing written about you, not that you're not a great muse. Wait, I mean-,"

"Wirt," I interrupt him, "was that poem about me?" I firmly keep my gaze on him, hope fluttering in my heart. It beats hard against my chest with each second that passes while I wait for his answer.

"Uhh," he says nervously. "Goodnight!" Suddenly, he flips around and thuds against the ground, his blanket fluttering against him. I blink in surprise, debating on whether or not I should push him for an answer. All I see of him is his ears, which are colored a bright scarlet.

In the end, I sadly decide to not push him. He's leaving tomorrow, and if he did love me, it would only make me long for him more. "Goodnight, Wirt," I say longingly, mournfully. As I lay down, I add, "Goodnight, Greg."

“Goodnight [f/n], goodnight Wirt,” Greg says happily, oblivious of the tension in the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Stuffing the blankets back into my satchel, I glance at Wirt, whose eyes are tired. “Did you sleep well?” I ask him, feeling a tad bit concerned.

    “Yeah,” he lies, and I feel myself frown. I quickly wipe the frown away and replace it with a hopefully bright smile.

    “Alright then, let’s get moving,” I say with fake cheerfulness. “We’re almost there!”

    But at my words, instead of lifting his spirit, they seemed to dampen Wirt’s spirit even more. “Right behind you,” he mutters gloomily. Greg, on the other hand, is lost in his own little happy world as he sings.

We keep on walking, Wirt remaining silent while Greg sings and points out random things. Today is the day we’re parting ways. If only...I wish I could ask them to stay. But they have families who are waiting for them, and I of all people know how precious family is. But at the same time, it feels like they’re my family as well. I feel so torn, it’s like the day I lost my brother all over again. Stop thinking like this! I think desperately to myself. At the very least, I’ll still have Beatrice, who is back to her original human form. But she is preoccupied with her own family as well, so I rarely see her much.   

After much walking, to the dismay of my heart, we’ve arrived at the gateway. “Here we are,” I declare weakly. “You can finally go home.”

“We did it, Wirt!” Greg cheers. “We’re back home!”

“Yeah,” he replies, but with no enthusiasm.

“Looks like this is goodbye,” I say with a sad smile.

“[f/n],” Wirt swiftly says, as if wanting to say something. He gazes deep into my eyes, his eyes saddened and whispering of unspoken words. “[f/n], why don’t you come with us?”

“What?” I breath out, completely taken by surprise.

“Yeah!” Greg cries brightly. “You could live with us!”

“But I-I don’t belong there,” I say anxiously, yet my heart is jumping with yearning at the new idea. “And I don’t think your family would invite a stranger into your home.”

“We can find somewhere for you to stay, even if I have to sneak you into my room,” Wirt replies, new determination lifting his spirit. “And with your abilities, you could be a vet, or even a doctor. I’m sure you’ll find a way to fit right in!”

“I….I,” I trail off, uncertain of what to say. An image of my empty home flashes through my mind, filling my heart with loneliness. Yet I’d be going to a whole new world, a world that has no druids, no one who was like me and my brother. A world with what Wirt calls cars, and magical appliances that produce light without fire and others that produce water without leaving your home and so much more. Where would someone like me belong? “I don’t know.”

“You have to!” Wirt cries. “I don’t want to leave you, not at all. I, well I, I’ve come to…[f/n], I love you,” he says, his words uncertain yet loving.

“Wirt,” I breath out, my eyes swimming. And suddenly, something changes in Wirt’s eyes. A boldness that he usually does not possess lights his eyes with bravery. His hand reaches out, wrapping around my wrist and pulling me towards him. “Wirt-” My words are interrupted by his lips. They press firmly against mine, with a passion that threatens to consume me. I’m completely overwhelmed by his passion. I didn’t know that Wirt, who is so pessimistic and insecure and constantly worrying, could love with such a passion.

And just like that, it feels like the walls I had built around my heart are smashed into pieces. My arms wrap around Wirt’s neck, pressing him closer as I meet his passion with my own. Our lips move sloppily, without experience, but it feels like magic is passing between the two of us. Pulling away, Wirt whispers breathily, “Don’t be a worrywart.”

At the reverse nickname, I feel myself laugh lightheadily. “Look who's talking, Worrywirt,” I retort, my head spinning with drunken happiness. Looks like my heart has decided, despite the petty protests my mind gives. “Looks like I have no choice but to go with you, because I love you, too.”  

“Really?” Wirt says with disbelief.

“Really,” I reply with a kiss on his forehead.

“I love happy endings,” Greg says as he beams up at us, and I feel heated embarrassment wash over my face at the realization that little Greg witnessed the whole thing. I pull myself away from Wirt's arms while Wirt coughs embarrassedly.

Turning to Greg and Wirt, I feel warmth embrace my very being. This is where I belong. “You guys ready?” I ask once more, but this time, there is no longer any despair hidden in the words.

In response, Wirt offers me his hand. “Yes, we’re ready,” he tells me with a warm smile. I take his hand in my own, our fingers entwining as one.

“Let’s go,” I declare, and together, as a family, we pass through the gateway leading to my new life.

Brother, I have a family again, and someone I love. Thank you for leading them to me.

  The End

#wirt #over the garden wall #otgw #wirt over the garden wall #wirt otgw #wirt x reader #reader x wirt #wirt and reader #reader and wirt #reader insert

[landofreadersandinserts]

Worrywirt- Wirt x Druid!Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

SPOILER ALERT- Do NOT read unless you have finished Over the Garden Wall, unless you don’t mind spoilers!

  Snowflakes flutter around me as I continue to trudge through dense, unending forest. While one would normally describe air as being colorless, I cannot help but feel as if the air was colored gray by winter’s hand. Even with the thick cloak wrapped around my body, I can still feel the biting cold ripping through my clothes and nipping at my skin. The only source of warmth I have is the fire from the dangling lantern I hold in my hand, but only my hand has the chance to receive its warmth.

When was the last time I had seen him? Has a whole season truly passed by? It’s disheartening, but still I will continue my search. All of this is my fault, so I have no right to give up. Forever, I will keep searching, until the day I make things right.

Winter’s muffled silence surrounds me, silencing the sounds of life. Only the hurried wind and the crunching of snow under my feet can be heard. But any sound is better than none as I continue farther and farther through the forest, my soul guiding me to where he hides. He always manages to escape me, but I will always find him again.

Wait, I hear a something! It can barely be heard, so soft it could easily be mistaken as the sound of snowflakes hitting the ground. If I were not a druid, it would not even be heard at all. I can hear the whispering soul of an Edelwood. I hurriedly swivel my head around, my eyes searching the vast whiteness for the source of the sound. My feet move underneath me with more passion, newfound heat rushing through me. If the whispering is as soft as it is, it means it is not too late!

There! Under a tree, a boy’s figure lays sleeping, a frown etched into his face. Thin tree branches grow around him, slowly entangling him. Despite his shivering, he is unable to wake up, for the Edelwood is sapping away any energy he may have left. But it is not too late, I can save him! I fall to my knees, not caring about the cold snow that slowly melts against my roughened trousers, dampening the cloth. I reach out and trail my fingers against the smooth bark of the Edelwood. “Dear Edelwood,” I whisper gently as my fingers soothingly trace the bark. “Do not take this child, for he is mine. Retreat back into the soil, I command you.” I lean forward and breath out warm air against the bark, as if I was blowing it a kiss.

The branches hesitate, twitching as they try to resit my command. But eventually, they untangle themselves from the boy’s body and retreat back into the soil. My hands wrap themselves around the boy’s freezing face, trying to transfer what little warmth I had to him. His red and pointy hat falls off as I straighten his head, revealing his messy brown hair. It’s no good, he is much too cold. His head stirs against my hands as his eyes squint open. His brown orbs widen as they make contact with mine.

“Whoa, hey, what are you doing?” he cries as he pushes my hands off of his face. His warm breath puffs in a white cloud against my face, and suddenly I’m much too conscious of how close I am to him.

“I’m sorry, I was trying to warm you up,” I reply as I scoot away from him. “But more importantly, how are you feeling?”

He eyes me warily as his arms wrap around his trembling body. “Well, you’re right about it being cold. How are you holding up, Greg?” he asks as he glances to the side, only to find there is nothing there. “Greg?” the boy cries, panic overflowing his words. He scrambles up, his eyes darting around in search of the missing person. “Greg, where are you?”

I grab the boy’s hat as he darts off and I chase after him. “Wait, boy, stop!” I cry after him.

He halts in his tracks, but his body twitches in a need to continue running. “Did you see a little boy around anywhere, wearing a tea kettle on his head and carrying around a frog?” he anxiously asks.

“No,” I reply, fear creeping into my heart. If this Greg is lost, could it be…

“Oh no,” the boy moans as his hands pull at his hair. “This is all my fault! I’m really the reason we’re in this mess, and now I’ve lost Greg.”

He swirls around to continue running, but I reach out and grab his shoulder. “Stop! Look, you have to calm down, or you’ll never find him. A panicked heart has no eyes. What is your name?”

“I-I’m Wirt,” he replies, anxiety swimming in his eyes. His name almost sounds like wart.

I smile reassuringly at him as I tell him, “Hi, Wirt, I am called [f/n]. I’m going to help you find Greg, so stop being a worrywirt.”

“H-hey!” Wirt cries at the nickname, his face reddening. Good, at least he is no longer panicking.

I hand him his hat, which he absentmindedly places back on his head. “Lucky for you, I’m a druid,” I tell him warmly. “I am more attuned to this forest than the average person, or even critter. I can see, hear, smell, and sense many things that go unnoticed by everyone else.”

“So you can definitely find my brother?” he asks me hopefully.

“I’m sure of it. Here, hold this lantern,” I tell him as I hand him the encased fire. “It’ll warm your hands, if only a little. Now come, I’ll lead you to your brother.” But as I turn away, the smile melts away from my face. Yes, I know where Greg is, but it’s not a good thing. He is with the Beast, an encounter that proves to be dire to any lost child. I’m scared of what the Beast may have done to the poor boy. I’m always scared to see the Beast, to witness what he had become.

“Um, so, you’re a druid?” Wirt says from behind me as we trudge through the snow. “So like, what exactly can you do?”

I glance back at him briefly with a mysterious smile. “Many would call it magic,” I tell him. “Druids are beings who are considered one with nature. We can speak to the plants and the animals. We know the Earth as if it were are own soul. Working together with nature, druids can absorb the energy from the Earth and create potions and enchantments.”

“Isn’t that the same as being a witch?” he asks nervously.

“No,” I reply softly. “No, we’re not witches, though we use the same source of magic. While druids work together with nature, witches forcefully take from nature. But witches also have dark magic, which draws from evil spirits and the souls of other people. Dark magic is forbidden to druids, so don’t worry. I’m not going to harm you.”

“Oh, I-I wasn’t calling you a witch or anything!” Wirt cries, his cheeks pink. “I was just wondering.” I can’t help but giggle at his flustered manner of speech. As we’re walking, I hear him mutter to himself, “Great, go and offend the one person trying to help you, Wirt.”

Before I have a chance to reassure him that I’m not offended, a soft sound causes me to freeze. At the quiet whispering, I feel the blood drain from my face. It has already begun. “Wirt, grab my hand!” I demand hurriedly as I offer my hand.

“What, why?” he asks, but obediently grabs my hand.

“We’re going to ride the wind, so you must hold on to me very tightly!” I tell him. With the wind rushing as it is, I normally would never attempt to ride it. One slip up, and the wind can trap me in its currents, tossing me wherever it may please. In fact, holding hands is not enough. With a tug, I pull Wirt closer to me. “Wrap your arms around me and hold on tight.”

“Uh, ok,” he replies before blowing out the lantern and placing it on the ground. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around me.

“Tighter,” I demand. After his arms encase me in a firm grip, I release a high pitched whistle that pierces through the sky. At my command, the wind sweeps downwards and swirls around us, wrapping us in its embrace. A small shout of surprise escapes Wirt as we are lifted off of the ground, and my own arms wrap around him to hold him closer.

Lead me to him, I silently command the wind. I block out Wirt’s various exclamations of surprise as I invest my entire concentration on keeping the wind from blowing us apart. Please. The wind presses closer, until it feels like we’re in a orb of swirling wind. Suddenly, we are flying through the air towards the destination I keep vividly in my mind. I won’t get distracted by the thought of him, of confronting him, so I desperately fight the thoughts off. Nor will I get distracted by the feel of Wirt pressing against me.

The closer we get, the more I can hear the whispers. Much too soon for my unprepared heart, our feet once again connect with the ground. There, wrapped in the branches of Edelwood, is the little boy called Greg. “Greg!” Wirt cries with alarm as he rips himself from my arms and dashes towards Greg.

“Wirt?” Greg croaks out, his eyes tiredly opening to reveal green orbs, their sparkle dulled by fatigue.

“I’m so sorry!” Wirt cries as he pulls at the branches, but to no avail. “This is all my fault! I got you in this mess, so I’m getting you out of it!” Wirt grunts in effort as he continues to try and pull the branches off of Greg.

I gently place my hand on Wirt’s shoulder, ceasing his efforts. “It’s ok, Wirt, I can fix this,” I tell him softly. Once more, my knees dig into the snow as I begin tracing the bark with my fingers. I whisper the chant I had spoken to Wirt, commanding the Edelwood to release Greg. It takes longer this time, for the branches are more tightly wrapped around Greg, but eventually they retreat into the soil.

“Greg!” Wirt cries with relief, dropping down to his knees alongside me to wrap Greg into his arms.

I’m unable to share his relief for long, for the piercing screams of the trees rip through me. I scream in agony as I press my hands against my ears, my head feeling like it’s being split open. “[f/n]!” I hear Wirt cry in alarm, but it is barely audible through the pain. I feel Wirt’s hands grab my shoulders when suddenly, the screams stop. “What’s wrong?”

Before I can reply, the body of a man is thrown through the foliage and lands beside us. In his hand, the man holds a lantern that I know far too well. In the other, he holds an axe that is the cause of the agonized screams of the trees. Swiftly, I crawl to the man and snatch away the lantern. “Woodsman!” a familiar voice calls threateningly, a voice that fills me with dread.

From the foliage, a black figure emerges. “It’s the Beast!” Wirt cries fearfully, and his hand wraps around mine as he pulls me closer to him and Greg. “We have to run!”

“I can’t,” I tell him sadly as I rip my hand from his. “I have to finish this.”

“What are you talking about?” Wirt asks me, his eyes filled with fright.

I only smile sadly at him as I turn to the Beast. To the blackened figure, I whisper out, “Brother.”

“[f/n],” he whispers in turn. He recovers from the shock, and his voice raises as he demands, “Return the lantern!”

“No,” I say firmly as I step closer to him. Soon, I find myself staring into his eyes, the only thing that remained the same. His beautiful, opal eyes that would change from white to green to blue. “Brother, we cannot continue this. It’s time to let go.” I can already feel the tears trickling down my face, my heart squeezing painfully.

The Beast reaches out, his fingers wiping away the tears. “I will not leave you alone, [f/n],” he tells me softly. “I need you.”

My breath hitches at his loving caresses, but I tightly squeeze my eyes shut as I collect my determination. “No!” I shout, my eyes opening with conviction. “Look at what you’ve become!” I swing the lantern, shining light on the Beast to reveal his disfigured body made from the souls of lost children. “Look at what you’ve done! This is isn’t you, Brother. You can’t continue living like this!”

“I will do what I must!” he roars. “I will not leave you!”

“Brother,” I croak out, my voice flooded with tears. Slowly, painfully, I tell him, “It’s ok. I don’t need you anymore.”

“Liar!” he cries.

I shake my head as I smile softly at him. I rest my hand on his cheek, stroking him lovingly as I repeat, “I’m ok now. You can leave, you can be happy.”

“Don’t!” he cries as I bring the lantern close to my lips.

“I love you,” I tell him sadly, and with a gentle blow, the fire is extinguished. Beast screams as light wraps around us, tearing away the darkness that cloaked him. Various voices flood the air as the souls of the children fly away, stripping Beast of his life force.

Soft sobs shake my body as I shut my eyes, until finally the voices are gone. “[f/n],” a voice calls me lovingly. I open my eyes to see a man with black hair and opal eyes. On his head, the horns of a deer protrude. Brother’s inner soul animal had always been a deer, a kind and gentle spirit.

“B-Brother,” I force through the tears. “I’m so sorry, for everything.”

His arms wraps around me as he pulls me into a hug. “It’s ok,” he tells me gently. “I will always watch over you.”

“Goodbye,” I whisper to him. The warmth of his embrace disappears, and only my hot tears can be felt.  

His body is gone, but in the wind, his voice whispers, “I love you, dearest [f/n].” Stillness surrounds me as I stand alone, grief coursing through my body.

I hear footsteps approach me, reminding me that I’m not alone. “[f/n]?” Wirt says softly with concern.

“He was my brother,” I tell him without turning around. “We didn’t have parents, so he was all I had. But one day, he became sick, and I was unable to cure him. He died, but I wasn’t ready to be alone, to lose the person that meant the world to me. So I used forbidden magic that would transfer his soul to an inanimate object, allowing his body to continue living as long as his soul was kept in this world. I transferred his soul to this lantern. I didn’t know the soul had to be fed other souls in order to continue living without a body. I didn’t know. Many people suffered because of me.”

Suddenly, arms wrap around me from behind. “It’s not your fault,” Wirt tells me gently. “I know what it’s like to lose your brother, and you didn’t know all of this would happen. But you fixed everything, and you saved me and my brother.”

With a sniffle, I say tearfully, “Thank you, Wirt.”

Smaller arms wrap around me as Greg cheers, “Yay, group hug!”

When we all eventually pull away, I wipe away my tears and smile at them warmly. “So where are you two headed? I shall escort you there.”

“Um, well, about that,” Wirt says with a strained smile as he scratches at his head. “We have no idea where we’re going,” he tells me as his arms drop in defeat. “We’re trying to get back home, but we don’t know how to get there.”

“How long have you been traveling?” I ask him.

“For a long time now,” he sighs. “I’m starting to think we’ll never make it back home.”

“Of course we will!” Greg says optimistically. “Anything’s possible!” The frog Greg cradles in his arms croaks his approval.

I frown as I look upwards at the sky, snow falling in a flurry. “I don’t think you guys should travel in the winter, it’s too dangerous,” I tell them. “If you want, you can stay at my house until winter passes, then I will help you find your home.”

Wirt shivers as he wraps his arms around himself, glancing at the surrounding snow. “I think you’re right,” he tells me through his chattering teeth.

“But first,” I say as my eyes land on the knocked out woodsman, “we should all try to get warm. Wirt, can you watch over the woodsman as Greg and I gather firewood?”

“Er, sure,” Wirt replies, eying the Woodsman nervously.

“Thanks, we’ll be quick,” I tell him. Luckily, there is plenty of firewood lying about thanks to the woodsman previously hacking at the surrounding trees. As I’m picking up the heftier pieces of wood, I notice a splash of bright blue standing out amidst the white snow. Curious, I walk towards it, and I’m shocked to find that it’s a bluebird.

I scoop up the bird from the freezing snow and hold it close to my heart. I’m relieved to find there is still life in the frozen bird. What is a bluebird doing out in this weather? “It’ll be ok,” I murmur to the bird. “I’ll fix you up.”

“What’cha got there. [f/n]?” Greg asks he waddles over to me, his arms filled with branches. He peeks at the bird resting in my arms. “It’s Beatrice!”

“Beatrice?” I repeat.

“Yeah, she was helping me and Wirt get back home,” he explains.

“She can talk?” I ask him.

“Yeah, she and Wirt like to bicker a lot.”

“I see,” I murmur. If they can talk with Beatrice, then either Wirt and Greg are actually druids, or Beatrice is not actually a bluebird. “Let’s hurry and get this fire started so we can warm her up.”

“Yes, Captain!” Greg exclaims.

With the fire started, all of us huddle close to embrace its warmth. My eyes travel to each of my new companions, and even my heart feels like it is warming up. Wirt fussing over Greg, Greg moving the frog in a wobbly dance, and Beatrice sleeping peacefully in my arms. It feels like I actually have a family. I’ll miss them when they leave, but at least I won’t be alone this cold winter.

Brother, I’m not alone,” I think, willing the message to be sent to my brother. I smile happily as the snow drifts around us, the fire dancing in a welcoming glow.

I’m looking forward to returning to a house that will no longer be empty.

  To Be Continued              

#wirt #over the garden wall #otgw #wirt over the garden wall #wirt otgw #wirt x reader #reader x wirt #wirt and reader #reader and wirt #reader insert

[landofreadersandinserts]

Human Feast Festival- Equius x Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

In this fic, you’re old enough to have moved out of your parents’ house~

Plus, you have a mom and a dad, for those who don’t have one or the other, so please pretend.

If you’re a vegetarian, please disregard the meat~

Happy Thanksgiving!

      “Equius, honey, calm down,” I command soothingly to the sweating troll. I pull out one of the many handkerchiefs I carry around and dab at his skin. “They’ll love you, believe me.”

“I have never before partaken in this human feast festival!” Equius cries in his deep toned voice. “I know not of the cultural expectations one must have to appear proper during the festivities!”

I sigh as I glance at the looming house before us. My parents’ house, where they await to meet my boyfriend, who is having a nervous meltdown. “Look, there are no expectations, you just have to be yourself,” I reassure him. “You and I will be helping out with the cooking, that’s it. I presume you’re capable of eating a lot?” It’s Thanksgiving, one of the holidays that actually allow you to be a slob. I’d figured it would be easier for Equius to introduce him to my family on such a laid back holiday, but looks like I was wrong.

He nods, but blurts out, “I am not quite capable at cooking.”

I smile amusingly at him. “Oh, I know, but I’ll be there to give you directions. Now then, are you ready?” He nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows heavily. “Be strong, Equius,” I say cheerfully as I lead him to the door.

I press my finger against the doorbell, releasing the high pitched ringing that announces our arrival. The door opens to reveal my mom, who greets us with a wide smile. “[f/n]!” she cries as she sweeps me into her arms.

“Hey there, Mom,” I say with a laugh as I return the embrace.

She pulls away and glances at Equius, who is standing rigidly. “Is this the, what do they call them...oh, that’s it, troll! Is this the troll you are dating?” she asks me.

“Yes, Mom, this is Equius,” I answer.

“My, young man, you look so dashing!” she gushes. She leans over to my ear and whispers, “Look at those muscles!”

“Mom!” I cry as I shove at her playfully.

“Thank you, it is lovely to make your acquaintance,” Equius greets nervously.

“Such manners!” Mom says with a laugh. “Pleasure is all mine.”

“[f/n]?” another voice calls, and my dad appears behind Mom. He fixes his gaze on Equius, eying him sternly. “Who is this?”

“This is Equius, Dad,” I answer while I take Equius’ hand in mine, squeezing it reassuringly.

Dad’s eyes glare at Equius, as if they are trying to shoot lasers at the the muscly troll. “I see.” Dad murmurs, as if he is forcing the words through his teeth. “Welcome, come in.”

I tug at Equius’ hand, which doesn’t budge him at all, but he jolts out of his stupor and walks with me into the house. I lean close to his ear and whisper, “Remember, relax!” Addressing everyone else, I announce, “Equius and I will be helping with the cooking!”

“Thanks!” Mom exclaims. She places her hand on Equius’ shoulder, and I’m extremely grateful she doesn’t comment on his sweatiness. “Follow me, I’ll lead you to the kitchen!” I stay behind as I watch her walk away with Equius, who keeps glancing back at me in a plea for help. Equius was never good at physical contact, so I can’t help but giggle at his flustered face.

I turn my attention to Dad. “Dad, don’t bully my boyfriend,” I demand sternly. Placing my hands on my hips, I glare at Dad with an intensity that rivals his.

After a heated staring match, Dad finally backs down. “Alright, I’ll try to get along with this...troll,” he mutters.

The glare is wiped away from my face with a cheerful smile.”Thanks, Dad!” I cheer as I charge forward and hug him. He pats my back briefly, grunting in response. After pulling away, Dad and I enter the kitchen. Many delicious scents waft past my nose, enticing my stomach into a hungry grumble.

“[f/n]!” Equius cries with relief. In his hands, he holds a multitude of spices. “I’m glad you’re here; your mom handed me these bottles and told me to spice the turkey. How on earth do you spice a turkey?”

Fighting back my laughter, I take the bottles away from his hands and place them on the counter. “Easy, you sprinkle a bit of spice from each bottle onto the turkey.” I hand him one of the bottles. “Here, lightly shake the bottle over the turkey.” Only, I should of known better. ‘Lightly’ does not belong in Equius’ dictionary. He tries to, but with one shake, the force actually breaks the bottle, the contents of the bottle spewing forth onto the turkey. Staring at the turkey covered in basil, I declare brightly, “It’s ok, I can fix this!”

As I carry the turkey to the sink, Equius frustratingly cries, “I am not suited for cooking!”

“Anyone can cook,” I tell him as I rinse away the spice. “Even you, Mr. Muscle.” After placing the turkey back onto the platter, I swipe some of the spilled spice off of the counter onto my palm. “Hold out your hand.” I dump the spice onto his open palm. “There, now pinch some of the spice and sprinkle it onto the turkey.” He obliges, successfully sprinkling basil onto the turkey. “Good! Do that with the rest of the spices.”

“[f/n],” Mom calls, “can you get the potatoes boiling?”

“Got it!” I respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the potatoes are done boiling, Equius manages to finish the turkey. He had taken so long because he had painstakingly and carefully sprinkled the turkey with calculated measurements.

“What is my next task?” he asks as I strain the potatoes.

“You are going to mash these potatoes,” I inform him. Luckily, the potatoes are kept in a steel pot, so Equius can’t smash it just by touching it. And what’s better is we don’t even need a blender! “Go wash your hands, you’re going to need them.”

He stares at me quizzically for a moment, but obliges. “What purpose are my hands going to serve?” he asks after wiping his hands dry on a towel I had brought for him.

“You’re going to pound these potatoes to a pulp,” I tell him with a smile.

“I see,” he replies. Placing his palms into the pot, he manages to mash up the potatoes in no time. He pulls his mashed potato covered hands out of the pot, staring at them disdainfully. “This is a very vulgar method,” he tells me with distaste.

With a giggle, I tell him, “Just go wash your hands again!” He stares at me for a moment, his face colored in blue. He denies it, but he actually enjoys being ordered around.

“Fine,” he grunts as he obliges. As he washes his hands, I add spices to the potatoes as I stir them.

“[f/n], we’re going to the store!” Mom calls. “We forgot something!” I watch as Mom drags Dad out the door. Dad looked like he really didn’t want to leave me and Equius alone, while my Mom had a knowing grin on her face.

“Thanks Mom,” I say happily under my breath. Raising my voice, I call to Equius, “Hey, taste these potatoes!”

He walks over to me, and I hold my finger dipped in mashed potatoes up to his lips. He stares at my finger intensely, his face flushed in a deep blue. “This is quite improper!” he declares.

In response, I wiggle my finger at him. “Just try it!” He hesitates, but eventually he shyly opens his mouth. His lips close around my finger, his tongue swirling away the mashed potatoes. I pull away my finger, my face slightly flushed. “How does it taste?”  

“Good,” he murmurs quietly.

“Let me taste,” I whisper as I lean forward and press my lips against his. I keep my eyes open as I watch his response. His hands lift in the air, but freeze in place. He wants to hold me, but he’s too scared he’ll hurt me. To help him, I gently wrap my hands around his and guide them to my hips. Very slowly, his hands press tighter against my hips until he manages to press me closer against him. I smile into the kiss as I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. Now that he’s more confident, the kiss gradually becomes more rough and passionate. His lips move rapidly against mine, the sparks passing between us feeling like it’ll catch fire.

I stumble backwards and slam against the counter. I feel my feet lift off the ground, our lips never leaving each others’, as Equius places me on top of the counter. My legs wrap around him, pressing him closer, closer. I pull at his hair, forcing our lips to press more tightly together. I don’t want Equius to be scared of touching me. I’m not as fragile as he treats me. I want him to press against me, to claim me with his every being. If he doesn’t get that, I’ll make him see it.

When we pull away, both of us are panting desperately for air. Once enough air has filled my lungs, I manage to breath out, “Wow, those potatoes are damn tasty.” He licks his lips, making me want to kiss him again, but I have to hold back. I hear Mom and Dad’s car pulling in, so I rapidly jump off of the counter. Damn it, I wish the store wasn’t so nearby! I clear my throat before brightly exclaiming, “Now then, let’s get started on the stuffing!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amazingly enough, Equius manages to handle everything just fine. After a few hours of toiling in the kitchen, we manage to fix up the entire Thanksgiving feast. If you ask me, everything went swimmingly perfect!

As I carry the steaming turkey to the table, I am ecstatic to notice that Equius and Dad are deep in friendly conversation. “Ready to eat?” I ask everyone. I am met with various cheers as I settle myself beside Equius. I swiftly peck him on the cheek while Dad is busy watching Mom serve the food. I whisper to him, “See, was that so bad?”  

He leans close to my ear, so close I thought he was going to nibble it. In a whisper, he replies, “Kissing helps.” I hold back my giggle as Mom hands me my plate of food.

By the end of the day, Mom and even Dad approve of Equius, much to my relief. As strange as he may be, I can’t help that I love the sweaty troll.

And who knows, maybe he’ll cook every Thanksgiving meal from now on! I plan on sticking with him for a very long time.

  The End  

#equius #equius zahhak #homestuck #equius x reader #reader x equius #reader and equius #equius and reader #equius zahhak and reader #reader and equius zahhak #reader x equius zahhak #equius zahhak x reader #reader insert #thanksgiving

[landofreadersandinserts]

Honey and Lemon- Sollux x Sick!Reader

Notes:

[f/n]= first name

I won’t be typing in a lisp, because I would inaccurately write a lisp due to never hearing it in person.

      I feel so gross, like I’m nothing more but a sculpture of sweat and snot. And despite my face burning up, my body shivers in a chill when it’s not even cold. So here I am, my trembling body wrapped in a blanket, as I watch Sollux tap away at my computer. I should be in bed, but I’ve practically slept the day away until night approached, and now I’m no longer able to at least sleep through the shivers, drool, and snot. T.V. gives me a headache, I’m unable to focus on reading, and I lack the spirit to play video games, so I opted to listen to the calming tapping of keyboard keys in the presence of the troll I love.

Though, he doesn’t know I love him. The only reason he’s here is he happened to call me, and I erupted into a fit of coughing. I was shocked when he insisted on coming over, claiming a sick person shouldn’t be left alone. Sollux is ahuge introvert, so to him, being alone isn’t a problem. That’s why it’s a shock that he would keep me company when I can’t even play video games. There’s something about being sick that makes a person feel forlorn and needy, so him showing up at my doorstep was a type of medicine on its own. He had immediately taken my temperature, force fed me medicine, tucked me into bed, and even made me some soup. Sollux isn’t much of a cook, considering all his talent is pretty much spent on computers, but I ate it nonetheless. Then he took claim to my computer and told me I was not allowed out of bed. But now that he’s absorbed into the digital world, he hardly notices I’m watching him.

That is, until I erupted into another fit of coughing. His fingers cease their movement as he turns to me, his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m in the middle of hacking, but I don’t need your hacking,” he says as I continue to cough roughly. “Back to bed.”

“No,” I croak out after the coughing recedes. “I’m bored and unable to sleep, so I just want to watch you hack.”

“Too bad, you’re sick and you have to follow the rules of being sick bound.”

“I’m not going back to bed,” I insist determinedly.

He sighs as he pushes away from the computer. I expected him to forcefully lead me to bed, but instead he opens his arms. “Come here,” he demands.

“Huh?” I breath out, confused as to what he actually means.

“If you’re not going to bed, you’re at least going to sit down, and I don’t mean on the cold floor. Sit on my lap,” he says as if it’s nothing.

I feel a whole new kind of heat flush my face, and I think I’m going to overheat. “B-but you’ll get sick!” I weakly protest. I actually do want to sit on his lap, but at the same time, I don’t want to be obvious about it.

“I’m a troll, we’re far more superior to you humans as we cannot catch your measly viruses. Besides, all viruses fear me personally,” he says with a small smirk. “Now hurry up, I want to get back to hacking.”

      I swallow heavily, which doesn’t feel good going down my soar throat. My heart beating a mile a minute, I shyly step forward and hook my legs around Sollux, straddling him. Slowly (oh Gog, my face feels so hot!), I rest my head against his chest. His heartbeat pounds in a soothing rhythm, which eventually starts to make me feel sleepy. But it seems like his heart is beating faster than it should. I wonder why? As much as I’d like to think it’s because he feels the way I do, I have a hard time believing it. Maybe a troll’s heartbeat is different from a human’s? And his body is heavenly warm. With his heat transferring to me, I’m no longer shivering. I feel him scoot back to the computer, and the sound of clicking keys return. With the sound of his heartbeat combined with the sounds of the keyboard, I’m gradually lulled to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think I’ve been asleep for a long while before I’m suddenly awakened by the feeling of skin pressing against my forehead and Sollux’s concerned voice. “Hey, [f/n], you feel very hot,” he says, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Really?” I slur out, the world seeming hazy around me, like a dream.

“Damn it,” he curses as he shifts me so he can carry me bridal style. “I think you have a high fever.” I say nothing as he carries me towards my bedroom, the world seeming to spin around me. He gently places me on my bed, then grabs the thermometer off of my table. He places the thermometer in my mouth, his eyebrows furrowed in concern as he impatiently waits for its degree. Soon I hear a little beep from the thermometer, and Sollux rapidly pulls it out from my mouth. “102 degrees,” he mutters more to himself.

“Sollux,” I moan out. “My throat really hurts.” My voice sounds very raspy, considering it feels like the inside of my throat is coated in cuts that secrete acid.

To my surprise, Sollux gently runs his fingers through my hair in a soothing gesture. “Ok, I have something that might help,” he tells me, his voice soft with affection. Sollux is rarely ever this affectionate towards me, he’s usually teasing me, so this newfound treatment makes my heart flutter a bit among all this misery.

Since I don’t want to talk, for it would only hurt, I nod my head in affirmation. With swiftness, Sollux leaves the room. Just as quickly, I suddenly feel extremely lonely. Without him around, all of my aches and pains seem more severe. I feel utterly miserable, and I’m starting to feel like I’m willing to trade in the medicine for Sollux’s company.

After what feels like forever, he returns with the medicine in one hand and a cup of some type of liquid in the other. “Sollux!” I cry hoarsely. but with immense relief. “What’s in the cup?”

“Lemon water and honey,” he tells me as he sits on the bed. “It’ll soothe your sore throat, so drink it with your medicine.”

“Thank you,” I tell him with a weak smile as I take the cup and medicine from his hands. I pop two pills into my mouth, and proceed to take a sip from the cup. The drink is nice and warm, and tastes sweet yet tart. It’s pretty delicious, and it actually feels good going down my mouth. As I’m drinking it, I realize the drink is like Sollux. Warm and sweet, despite being tart. After finishing the drink, I settle back down onto the bed.

“Feel any better?” he asks me.

“Yeah, it really helped,” I reply gratefully. “I love it.” Ah, my head is really spinning…

“Good,” he says with relief, his lips twitching into a small smile.

I can’t help but giggle, for it’s rare for Sollux to smile at me in a non-teasing manner. I love this special treatment I’m getting, I love Sollux period. “It reminds me of you,” I mumble out, my eyes drooping in sleepiness. “That’s why I love it very much.” I smile dreamily at Sollux before I slip into a deep sleep. Beyond my closed eyelids, I don’t notice Sollux’s face becoming flushed in a bright yellow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I mumble sleepily into my pillow, unable to ignore the bright sunlight filtering into the room. But despite having to wake up when I could of slept a bit longer, I feel very good. Well, I still have traces of sickness, but I feel a lot better compared to yesterday. A yawn escapes my mouth as I sit up, my arms reaching out in a stretch. I blink tiredly as I glance around the room, ready to get a change of clothes. But I freeze up when my eyes land on a familiar troll. Sollux is sitting in a chair, his head resting on his arms that lay sprawled across my bed. From the looks of it, he had stayed with me the whole night!

I tightly squeeze my mouth shut when he starts to stir, holding back the squeak of surprise that had threatened to escape. He groggily sits up, his 3D glasses askew. “G-good morning, Sollux,” I greet shyly.

He quickly fixes his glasses, his face dusted with pale yellow. “Ah, hey, good morning,” he greets nonchalantly. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” I tell him with a smile. “Thanks to you.”

“No problem,” he mumbles. Silence settles over us, which makes me feel a bit embarrassed. I must surely look a mess: bedhead, morning breath made worse due to illness, my face feeling gross due to dried snot and drool, and clothes that feel dirty from sweat. Suddenly, I really want him to go away.

I open my mouth to politely ask him to leave so I can freshen up, but his voice interrupts me. “What did you mean by what you said before you fell asleep?” he asks, focusing on me intently, much to my discomfort.

“What are you talking about?” I ask in turn. Honestly, I can’t remember much from last night after falling asleep against Sollux. I remember him carrying me to bed, and giving me a yummy drink mixed with lemon and honey, but that’s it.

“You said the drink reminds you of me, and that’s why you love it,” he informs me. “What did you mean by that?”

Oh, oh no! My face erupts into a feverish blush as I realize what I had let slip. “Ah, well, um,” I stammer out, my heart pounding in my chest. With Sollux staring at me so intently, it’s very hard for me to think of a lie. It’s best if I just tell him and get it over with. Besides, I guess I would of told him someday, might as well now. “It’s warm, and sweet, and the tartness adds a special flavor to it,” I tell him slowly, shyly. “Much like you, and, well, I-I love you for it.”

“You love me?” he asks, as if he’s verifying my confession.  

“Yes,” I whisper, afraid to see his reaction.

“I didn’t think you’d love someone like me,” he mumbles, his gaze casted downwards. “You’re so bright, while I’m not. I’m filled with failure, screw ups, and doom follows me wherever I go. There’s nothing about me that’s sweet or warm.”

“That’s not true!” I cry with conviction. “You stayed with me all day yesterday and took care me of me, without me even asking. Whenever I’m in a jam, you always end up helping me, one way or another. And even though you don’t like it, you always listen to me when I need to complain or talk about my feelings. And I know you hate talking about feelings! You sacrifice so much for the sake of others, and if that doesn’t make you sweet and warm, then nobody can be sweet and warm.”

Sollux scoffs unbelievingly at my words. “Sure, when I go out of my way to avoid everyone and act like like a huge prick, I’m sweet,” he says sarcastically.

With a huge need to prove him wrong, I lean forward and wrap my arms around him in an embrace. “Guess what?” I breath into his ear. “I even love those traits about you. I find them endearing.” I giggle as I feel him stiffen up, taken by surprise. “Besides, what are we even debating about? I love you, and you can’t make me feel otherwise. But...how do you feel about me, Sollux?”

I can’t help but squeak in surprise when his own arms wrap around me, pressing me closer. “I guess I’d have to say I feel what humans call ‘love’ for you,” he tells me, his breath tickling my ear.

“Really?” I ask, finding it too good to be true.

“Really,” he tells me. “I’d kiss you, but your breath smells rancid.”

I laugh, amusement and slight disappointment mixing together. I pull away from his embrace, my eyes twinkling with love and mirth. “Well, you’ll just have to make up for it when I get better.”

“You better get better soon, then,” he replies with a small smirk.

“If you go get me some more of that lemon and honey drink, I might. Can you go make me some while I freshen up?”

“Geez, always ordering me around like I’m your slave,” he grumbles jokingly as he stands up. “Yes, master, I’ll go prepare it for you.” But before he leaves, he leans down and kisses me on the forehead.

“Thank you,” I reply with a warm smile, my fingers grazing the skin where he kissed me.

“Just a sample of what to expect,” he says smugly before exiting the room.  

I think honey and lemon blend perfectly together. To me, no matter how insecure he is, Sollux is perfect. I’m glad I have him to help me when I’m bedridden!

  The End

#sollux #sollux captor #homestuck #sollux x reader #reader x sollux #reader and sollux #sollux and reader #sollux captor x reader #sollux captor and reader #reader x sollux captor #reader and sollux captor #reader insert

[landofreadersandinserts]

Hello! ^_^ I would just like to ask, is it possible to request any characters/situations/things like that? Thanks already for answering UvU (And if it's alright to make requests, I would really like to read a reader insert fic(s) of Laughing Jack from Creepypasta, if it's just okay for you and you find any interest on writing any... Sorry if this sounds too greedy or anything, I just like your style a lot and think you could write it great!)

Sure, I can do a few requests every now and then! However, I can't promise to write the story immediately, for I may have to put other stories first due to holidays/events/requests, or I just really want to write it. Please be a bit patient, and I'll eventually write you a Laughing Jack x Reader. ^_^ 

[landofreadersandinserts]

Wirt from over the garden wall

Well, give me time to watch the series, for I have been meaning to watch it but haven't gotten to it. I was immensely intrigued by it, it seems like a series I would absolutely LOVE! I'm sure I'll be inspired to write a Wirt x Reader. ^_^

[landofreadersandinserts]

Wirt x reader?

From Over the Garden Wall?

[landofreadersandinserts]

Halloween Spirit- Creepypasta Boyfriend Scenarios [When He Comforts You] [END]

[f/n]= first name

Grinding is a gaming term that means to do repetitive tasks in a game in order to gain money, items, leveling, etc.

When He Comforts You

Who exactly am I now? It would be easy to blame everything on Halloween Spirit, to return to normalcy like everything had nothing to do with me. But that would be a lie. Since I was born, Halloween Spirit was part of my soul, part of who I was. The dark interests of Halloween Spirit’s were deep down mine as well. But the question is, how far do those interests define me? I don’t know, and now I question my entire existence.

Am I a monster?

Slenderman:

“[f/n]?” Slendie calls gently as he knocks on my door. I hold my breath in hopes of not being noticed, but I know it’s pointless. Slendie sees everything, so there’s no point in hiding. Even so, I don’t say anything as he continues to knock at the door. “[f/n], please answer me.” When silence is all he receives, Slendie starts to lose his patience. “I’m coming in.”

“Don’t!” I croak out as I grab a blanket and throw it over me. I don’t want him to see my face, which red and blotchy from crying. But more importantly, I don’t want to discuss the reason I’m depressed. I feel the bed creak as Slendie sits down beside me. I expect him to start firing questions at me, but instead there is only silence. Which surprisingly, I find to be even worse. As his caring, understanding silence stretches on, I find myself breaking down. When his hand starts to comfortingly rub my back, I’m at my peak. “Slendie!” I sob out as I throw off the blanket and toss myself into his arms.   

“It’s ok,” Slendie murmurs as he holds onto me, his hand stroking my head. “Let it all out.” And I do: my tears, my choked breaths, my anguished cries, I let it all out. By the time my cries have receded to watery hiccups, Slendie’s suit has a wet blotch soaked with my tears and snot.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble against his suit, unwilling to let him see my face even more. “I messed up your suit.”  

“It’s fine, it’s only a suit,” he replies with a nonchalant wave of his hand. He continues to comb his fingers through my hair, a soothing rhythm that could lull me to sleep, if only my heart didn’t ache so bad. Even still, he doesn’t question me, doesn’t push me for answers. Strangely enough, his silence is what pushes me to explain myself.

“It’s just,” I begin, but my voice breaks. I clear my throat before trying again. “I can’t get over what happened when...when Halloween Spirit merged with me.” My fingers clench at his suit as the memories continue to stab at me.

“It was a terrible ordeal,” Slendie gruffly replies. “But what specifically bothers you?” It’s extremely hard for me to answer, for every time I open my mouth, my voice breaks with the threat of fresh tears. “Take your time,” Slendie reassures me. “I’m willing to wait for however long it takes.”

It takes a while for me to regain my composure. “The blood won’t go away,” I mumble, my voice hollow. “No matter how many times I wash them, I can still feel the blood on my hands.”

Slendie’s hands land on my shoulders, gently pushing me away from him. I don’t bother struggling, for I’m far too emotionally worn out. His hands slide down my arms, warmth encasing my hands as he wraps his over mine. He holds our hands between us, and I find my eyes shyly meeting his. “These hands, to me, are perfect,” he tells me lovingly. “They are pure. The blood that plagues you does not belong to these hands. That blood belongs to Halloween Spirit, the one responsible for killing that man.”

I can’t help it; fresh tears spill from my eyes. “You don’t understand!” I croak out. “Halloween Spirit and I were one and the same! Halloween Spirit has been a part of me for all these years. We both killed that man, for our intentions were the same.”

“Yet this upsets you?” Slendie questions.

“Yes, because I killed someone!” I cry. I tear my eyes away from Slendie’s face guiltily. “I mean, I admit, I had fantasies of doing so, but I-I never thought I was capable of bringing myself to actually do it. But I am, and without Halloween Spirit, I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Slendie’s hands unwrap themselves from mine, and I watch as Slendie brings my hands close to his face. He doesn’t have lips, yet he still presses my hands against his skin, as if he was a gentleman kissing a lady’s hand. Pulling away, he tells me, “Regardless, I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. Yet as you know, everyone here has killed before. Are we monsters in your eyes?”

“No!” I cry forcefully. “Of course not!” It’s strange, but I know the Creepypastas are more than what they seem. Deep down, they are people of terrible circumstances who were warped into being what they are now. They aren’t crazy, they have reasons for doing what they do, and thanks to Slendie’s influence, they have an organized purpose. And what's more is they have good in them, too, such as Slendie’s kindness and manners. I refuse to see them as monsters!

“Then you are far from being a monster, regardless of whether you kill or not. You’ll always have a home with us, [f/n], no matter who you may end up being.”

“Slendie,” I murmur, my voice brimming with emotion. He’s right, what matters is I have somewhere I belong and people who will accept me for who I am. It feels like a heavy weight is lifted off of my shoulders. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, my love, to relieve you of your pain,” Slendie replies, and I find myself smiling at him with so much warmth and love. With an intense need to show my appreciation, I lean forward and plant my lips against his skin.

“I love you,” I tell him as I pull away.

“And I love you,” he responds.

However I live my life, I’ll always have Slendie by my side.

******************************************************************************

BEN:

“[f/n], are you avoiding me?” Ben asks, startling me. He appeared out of nowhere! Oh, right, I have the phone with me.

“No, I’m not,” I tell him earnestly.

“Then why is it that you haven’t been around for weeks?” he asks, a bit of irritation slipping into his words.

“I’ve been around!” I protest weakly. It’s not like I’ve left the manor, but I guess I have been avoiding Ben, though it’s not for the reason he’s thinking of.

“Yeah, everywhere but around me!” he snaps. “Look, did I do something wrong?”

“No!” I cry. “It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just that, well, I haven’t really been in the mood to play video games,” I tell him simply, nervously. Surely he will question me, but I really don’t want to answer him.

“Is that all?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. “Is that really the only reason you have been avoiding me?”

“Yeah,” I respond softly.

“Am I really such bad company that the only reason you can be around me is if we play video games?” he asks, sounding hurt.

“Of course not! I just thought that if I didn’t play video games with you, you would get bored of me.”

“Like I could be bored of you,” he responds with a roll of his eyes. “Honestly, [f/n], with the things you say and do, there is never a dull moment with you.”

I feel myself blushing at the compliment. “Thank you,” I murmur shyly. “And sorry, you know, for avoiding you.”

“It’s fine, but tell me, is there something bothering you? You don’t look well.”

Damn, I almost avoided it! “Yeah, I’m good,” I tell him, but it sounds like the lie that it is.

“Don’t give me that,” Ben tells me with a stern look. “I know something’s up, so you better tell me.”

“I-It’s….,” I start off weakly, but I recover my strength. “It’s nothing!”

“Bullshit!” he shouts. “After everything that’s happened with Halloween Spirit, I know there is bound to be something troubling you.”

I sigh heavily, knowing there is no fighting Ben. When he’s determined, there’s no stopping him. “The reason I don’t want to play video games,” I start, defeated, “is because they remind of killing that man. It brings back every sensory detail, especially the rancid smell of the blood.” The blood had smelled heavenly at the time, but now, the mere thought of the smell churns my stomach. Every time I slice through an opponent in the digital world, his pixelated blood splattering, the scent invades my nostrils as if the smell was really there. But the worst thing about it all is that I actuallydon’t find the smell rancid. What truly makes me sick is the guilt for not finding the smell disgusting. What’s wrong with me?

“I see,” he murmurs, deep in thought. “[f/n], you do know what happened wasn’t your doing, right?”

“That’s just it!” I cry a bit hysterically. “It was my doing, Ben! Halloween Spirit has been part of who I was since the day I was born, her intentions were mine as well. With her gone, I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“Does it matter?” Ben bluntly asks.

“Of course it does!” I screech.

“No, it doesn’t,” he responds firmly. “Look, I don’t kill, myself, but everyone else here does. As far as I care, if you kill too, welcome to the family. It doesn't change the fact that I love you, nor does it really change who you are. If anything, it would just be a new hobby of yours."

When he puts it that way, I honestly feel a bit better. He's right, no matter who I may turn out to be, I have a place where I belong. "Thank you," I tell him with a teary eyed smile.

“No problem,” he replies with a shrug and a half smile. “Now come on, let’s go set up some pranks for Jeff. You know, since we can’t play video games and all.”

I laugh at his bold statement. “Um, no thank you!” I reply. While Jeff always acts like a happy-go-lucky guy, his temper fuse is extremely short. I don’t know how the other Creepypastas don’t manage to get themselves killed when messing with him. “You know what, I actually feel like playing a video game. It’s been awhile.”

At my proposal, Ben breaks into a wide, childish grin. I love it when I can get him to smile like that. “Great, because I’ve been honing my skills while you were slacking. Let’s go see how far you’ve fallen!” He turns away and immediately starts heading to my bedroom, which is a lot more comfortably furnished than Ben’s, yet is still set up with a lot of gaming consoles.

I smile lovingly at his retreating figure. “Ben?” I call.

“Yeah?” he responds as he turns to me questingly. I step forward a few paces, and before he can respond, I press my lips against his. He stumbles back from the shock, but quickly regains his balance. His arms snake around my waist and pulls me tighter against him. My hands trail from his chest to his face, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Our lips move in a feverish, passionate frenzy. When we pull away, Ben’s face is flushed in a delicious shade of red. “Want to go do some grinding?” he seductively asks.

“Ben!” I cry, my own face feeling on fire.

“Gaming wise!” he says with laughter.

“That’s what I thought!” I say with a playful slap.

“ But if you want to….,” he trails off suggestively.

“Let’s go play that video game,” I say with a roll of my eyes and an exaggerated smile.

“Fine,” Ben replies with a fake groan.

I’m not going to drown myself in guilt for accepting myself for who I am! I have my geek of a boyfriend to thank for that lesson.

******************************************************************************

Jeff the Killer:

    “I’m sorry, I have to go,” I say abruptly as I practically bolt off of the couch. Jeff and I were in the middle of watching a horror movie, Texas Chainsaw, and normally I would be ecstatic. But as I watch Leatherface put on his mask of human flesh, I’m reminded of the carved smile I had sawed into the face of a dead man, and suddenly I don’t feel well.

“Wait, what for?” Jeff cries, looking at me questioningly. However, I’m unable to look at him in the face, for his own carved smile only worsens my sense of guilt. It’s been like this for weeks now, of me avoiding Jeff. I felt bad for avoiding him when none of this is his fault, so I let him rope me into watching a movie. But I don’t think I can stand another minute of the movie, of the tortured screams and the crafting of human skinned masks.  

“I’m not feeling so well,” I respond, my gaze casted downwards.

“That’s it!” Jeff says firmly as he stands up with a determined look in his eyes. “Let’s go.” He grabs my arm and proceeds to drag me to some unknown location.

“Wait, where are we going?” I cry after him.

“For weeks now you have been acting stressed, depressed, and feeble. So I’m going to help you relieve all of that stress.”

“That doesn’t actually tell me where we’re going,” I mutter more to myself. There’s no point in trying to cover up my depression, for Jeff knows me too well. So I’ll let him try any method to help if it’ll make him feel better.

We eventually reach the training grounds, and Jeff leads me to the boxing ring. After helping me onto the platform, he tosses me a pair of boxing gloves. “Put these on,” he demands.

“What exactly are we doing?” I ask him.

“We’re going to have a match,” he tells me as he puts his own gloves on.

“How is that going to help?” I ask him doubtfully, but I still put on the gloves.

“Exercise allows you to release all of your pent up frustration,” he replies, already moving into a fighting stance. “You ready?”

“Go easy on the noob,” I tell him as I too get into the stance Jeff had taught me for self-defense.

“You go first, I’ll block,” he instructs. I push off of the stance and charge towards him, battering him with a flurry of hits. I certainly don’t have to go easy on Jeff! He blocks each and every hit, no matter which direction my fists come from. With each hit, my determination to knock him down becomes stronger. Adrenaline starting to rush in my veins, I hit him with much more fervor. With one hit that he uses both hands to block, his stomach becomes open, so I rapidly dive into a punch against his stomach. He staggers backwards, which is enough of a victory for me.

“Yes!” I cheer, lifting my gloved hands into the air victoriously.

He smirks at me as he lowers his gloves. “Feeling better?” he asks.

“Yes, actually,” I reply, a bit surprised. With all this energy, it’s hard to feel down.

“Good, now tell me what’s wrong.”

Uh oh, and now the high is starting to die. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” I mumble.

“Too bad, if you really want to feel better, it’s gonna take more than physical help to do so,” he tells me, his eyes watching me intently. There’s no escape.

With a heavy sigh, I plop to the ground and throw off my gloves. While Jeff does the same, I tell him, “It’s about what happened with Halloween Spirit.”

Whenever Halloween Spirit is brought up, Jeff tenses with a primal fury, and he doesn’t fail to do so now. “Figured as much,” he almost snarls. “What, specifically, bothers you?”

“The fact that I killed someone,” I answer, my voice raspy as if it was a whisper.

Jeff suddenly slams his fist against the ground. “No! I keep telling you, it wasn’t you who did it, it was Halloween Spirit!”

“That’s what you don’t understand!” I shout at him. “It was the both of us who did it! Halloween Spirit was part of who I was since the day I was born, our intentions were the same. Only Halloween Spirit was able to do what I wasn’t able to push myself to do, kill someone. But I’ve fantasized about killing, Jeff! I just didn’t have the guts to do it.”

He sits back and stares at me in surprise. “And that is a problem, why?” he asks.

“Because part of me feels guilty for it,” I tell him as tears leak from my eyes. “Who am I to end someone’s life? I don’t know who I am anymore, it’s like I’ve become a monster.”

“Hey, no, don’t think like that,” he says firmly, grabbing my face to force me to look at him. “If you’re a monster, then that makes me Satan. Trust me, you’re anything but a monster. But am I a monster to you?”

“No, of course not!” I cry.

“Then there rests my point,” he says with a soft grin. “If you are a killer like the rest of us here, and even if you’re not, you’re family to us. We’re happy to have you for whoever you are, and I for one will never stop loving you. You’re beautiful, don’t you dare forget that.”

“Jeff.” I whisper, my face flushed by his loving words. My own words tremble with tears as I tell him, “Thank you so much. That means everything to me.” I honestly feel better, like the guilt was lifted off of my shoulders.

Jeff brushes his fingers across my face, wiping away my tears. “No problem. For payment, you owe me a smile.” A watery laugh escapes my lips. Once the laughter subsides, I offer him a small, soft, loving smile. I feel ugly after all that crying, but he tells me, “You look so beautiful when you smile.”

I find myself leaning towards him, our breaths mingling as our lips press together. It starts off soft and sweet, and I place kisses on his scar. I can’t believe I had refused to look at it, it’s a part of Jeff, and I love Jeff with all of my heart. Once I’ve given his scar enough love, I return my lips to Jeff’s, who meets mine with a much more passionate fervor. Before I know it, our kiss had deepened to a heated fight for dominance. When we pull away, I breathe out, “Wanna go finish that movie?”

He chuckles, but responds, “Sure, if you promise not to throw up everywhere with your suddenly squeamish stomach.”

“That was just a phase!” I tell him as I hit his shoulder playfully. “I’m back to loving gore and more.”

“Then enough stalling, let’s go finish the movie. We left at the best part, too!”

“Got it!” I reply as I lovingly smile at Jeff’s retreating figure.

As I can never stop loving Jeff for who he is, Jeff will never stop loving me for who I am.

******************************************************************************

Ticci Toby:

    “[f/n]? Hey, [f/n]?” Toby repeats, concern etched into his words.

    “Huh?” I murmur, snapping back to reality. For a while now, I’ve retreated into my own mind, often losing focus of reality. It makes me feel guilty, for poor Toby’s the one who tries to keep me anchored, but I have enough guilt to deal with already. “What?”

    “I’ve been talking to you for awhile now,” he sighs. “You dozed off into your own world again.”

    “Sorry,” I tell him sadly. “You have my attention now, so tell me what you were trying to say.”

    “[f/n], please tell me what’s upsetting you,” he asks worriedly. “You helped me after I regained my memories, let me help you now.”

I avert my gaze from his, casting it downwards. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. I’m just...battling my own demons. I just need time.”

“Trust me, talking about it helps immensely,” he tells me with conviction. “If you lock it into yourself, you’ll feel alone, and trust me, you’re not! And the pain will be much closer to your heart than it should be, cutting deeper into you. If you share your worries with me, it won’t hurt as much.”

“Toby,” I breath out, gratitude and neediness suddenly flooding my heart. “Ok, I’ll talk to you about it. I-it’s about that man I killed. The guilt is eating at me. Every time it’s quiet, or when I’m sleeping, I can still hear his screams!”

“That wasn’t you, though, [f/n]! It was Halloween Spirit who killed that man.”

“No!” I cry, burying my face into my hands. “You’re wrong, Toby! It was the both of us who killed him. Halloween Spirit was a part of me since I was born, our intentions were the same. The only difference was Halloween Spirit had the guts to do what I was too afraid to do, kill someone!”

Suddenly, a hand grips my wrist and I am pulled into Toby’s arms. “It’s ok,” he tells me as tears start to stream from my eyes. “You’re still [f/n], you are not a monster. If I’m not, you’re not, either. What happened, happened, but I’ll never, ever leave you. You’ll always be welcome here. You’re part of this family, after all.”

At his comforting words, and the way he holds me so tenderly, I find the ice that had frozen over my heart is melting away. He holds me as if I’m precious, pure, a treasure. Not at all like a monster, or an insane person, like I’ve been feeling ever since I’ve killed. “Toby!” I sob as I cling to him even tighter. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do, I love you with all my heart. And I assure you, everyone here warmed up to you. A little too warmed up, though.”

A watery giggle bubbles from my lips. “Jealous?” I tease. I’m starting to feel like my old self again, and it’s all thanks to Toby. As much of an idiot as he pretends to be, I’m always surprised when he turns serious.  

“I’ve seen the way Jack stares at you!”

“Jack doesn’t have eyes!” I cry.

“He still stares!” Toby protests.

“Mmkay, whatever,” I relent with a playful eyeroll. “But it doesn’t matter, because I only have eyes for you.”

“Good, don’t let Jack steal them.” At my grin, he adds, “No, seriously, he would literally steal them. He’s known to sneak into people’s rooms at night and steal their organs without them noticing.”

“That is a comforting thing to know,” I say with a grimace. “Hopefully, family’s excluded, right?”

“Usually. Last month Jeff woke up to find that Jack had taken part of his liver.”

“What?” I cry in alarm.

“Don’t worry, after the bashing Jeff have him, I don’t think Jack is gonna steal from people who knows where he lives,” Toby reassures me.

“Well, that makes me feel better....kind of. Toby?”

“Yeah?” he answers.

“I love you,” I say as I lean over and trail my finger from his cheek to his mouthguard. With a dip of my finger, I slip the mouthguard off of his face.

“I-I love you, too,” he replies as he watches me expectantly, his face flushed red. He’s letting me make the first move, which I think is sweet of him. I lean forward a little more, and soon our lips are pressed together. I move my lips slowly and sensually against his, teasing him. Even though he’s letting me be in control for today, I can tell he wants to push me against the ground and kiss me fiercely. So instead, I’m the one who pushes him to the ground. Straddling him with my legs, my hands bunching up his hoodie, I deepen the kiss into a rapid, needy passion. When I pull away, both of us are panting desperately for air, and for once, Toby is speechless. But I’m not one to talk, for I too am speechless.

Eventually, though, Toby gets enough breath to talk. “I love you, [f/n],” he whispers lovingly.

I giggle giddily as I rest my head against his chest, his rapidly beating heart filling my ears. “As has been established, I love you, too.”

No matter who I am, I’ll never stop feeling loved.

******************************************************************************

Eyeless Jack:

Even with the overpowering taste of mint filling my mouth, the other taste won’t go away. That warm, sickly sweet, rotten taste of dead man’s blood. Determined, I keep scrubbing the inside of my mouth with my toothbrush, a minty foam spilling forth from my mouth. I have to rid myself of the taste of blood, I have to! It’s driving me mad! “[f/n]?” Jack calls, interrupting my vigorous scrubbing.

I spit out the copious amount of foam from my mouth as I turn on the tap water. Cupping my hands under the cold liquid, I lift my hands to my mouth and rinse the lingering paste away. Now that I can properly speak, I turn to Jack and ask, “What?”

“This is the fifth time today you have brushed your teeth,” he points out.

“Ah, well, I’ve noticed that I’ve been taking terrible care of my teeth till now, so I’m trying to be extra careful from now on. I really don’t want any cavities, toothaches can be a bitch,” I lie. I haven’t talked to Jack about how the taste of blood is plaguing me, because I don’t want to trouble him. Hopefully, he’ll believe my lie.

But sadly, Jack knows me way too well. “You’re lying,” he bluntly responds.

With a weak laugh, I turn away from him. “What are you talking about, why would I lie?”

Suddenly, his hand firmly grips my wrist. “[f/n], you have not been yourself of late,” he says calmly, like a doctor diagnosing his patient. “I think something may be wrong with you, so I’m going to examine you for problems.” Without waiting for my say, he tugs me along.

“Wait, no, Jack, I’m fine!” I cry helplessly, but I know it’s no use. I can protest as much as I want, but once Jack gets an idea in his head, there’s no stopping him. Might as well just play along and get it over with.

We eventually reach Jack’s examination room, where he had first locked me up that fateful day we met. He leads me to the operation table as he orders, “Sit.” I do as he says, and we both remain quiet as he performs the usual procedures. However, when he holds the stethoscope against my chest, he asks, “What is troubling you?”

I quickly open my mouth and blurt out, “Nothing!”

“Heart rate has increased,” he quietly notes. “You are lying. I’ll ask again, what is troubling you? You can talk to me, [f/n].”

I say nothing, yet after minutes have passed Jack still hasn’t removed the stethoscope from my chest. He’s not going to give up until I tell him. With a sigh, I mutter, “It’s about what happened with Halloween Spirit. The taste of blood won’t leave, no matter how much I try to brush it away.”

Finally, he removes the stethoscope from my chest. “It is not a physical problem that is ailing you, but a mental one,” he diagnoses. “Tell me, why do you think the taste will not go away?”

“Because,” I begin, but the words die. Honestly, it’s very hard for me to admit aloud the truth of what has been tearing me up inside. If I say it, it feels like it’ll become finalized. But I have to say it, so I force out, “Because, the guilt of what I had done won’t let me forget.”

“As I have explained before, Halloween Spirit was a parasite that had taken control of you,” Jack says firmly. “You are not responsible for the death of that man.”

“Guess what, Jack?” I shout. “You’re wrong! Halloween Spirit wasn’t some temporary virus, she was a part of my soul since the day I was born. We were one and the same! Meaning, Halloween Spirit’s desire to kill? Yeah, that was my desire too. But while I only fantasized about it, Halloween Spirit was able to do it. We both killed that man, Jack. And now, I don’t know who I am anymore.” I breath out heavily, my ranting finished. Tears drip down my face, mixing together with my angry puffs of breath to form an emotional mess. I know I shouldn’t be angry, Jack is only trying to help. But it’s like the emotions I have desperately tried to keep locked up bursted out like an uncontrollable horde.

“You are [f/n],” Jack tells me calmly. “Even if you kill people, I can only see you as [f/n]. And either way, I would still love you. In fact, you are the most perfect specimen I have had the honor to meet. And quite frankly, killing is considered a profession around here, so you’re more than welcome to join in if you please. You will always be welcome among us, so never feel like you don’t belong. Be whoever you want to be, we’ll welcome you with open arms.”

“Jack,” I breath out, relief replacing the guilt and self-anger that had taken hold of me. “Oh, Jack!” I throw myself at him, his arms wrapping around me in an embrace. “Thank you so much, I really needed to hear that.”

“How do you feel?” he asks softly.

“Much better,” I respond with a small smile. “Jack?”

“Yes?”

“I love you,” I say warmly as I carefully lift off his mask and press our lips together. The mask clatters to the ground as Jack’s arms shift to my waist, pressing me tighter against him. His lips move hungrily against mine, which I eagerly respond to with as much passion. He nibbles at my bottom lip, pain and pleasure mixing together as blood starts to drip from my mouth. I let out a tiny cry of pain, but Jack quickly laps up the blood and continues to press our lips together. The taste of my blood fills my mouth, yet the taste is no longer a bother to me. When we pull away, I wipe at the blood as I playfully glare at him. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Does the taste of blood still bother you?” he asks.

“No,” I reply. “No, it doesn’t. Thanks for that.” He was trying to help me move on from the horrible memory of the taste of blood by replacing it with a pleasant memory. And it actually helped, for the coppery taste is nothing more but a flavor.

“Good,” he says, and he actually smiles at me. Jack’s smiles are very rare, and each time they cause my heart to flutter. “I love you.”

My face heats in a blush as I bury my face against his chest. “Love you, too,” I mutter, my voice muffled against his chest.

Whenever I feel down, I can always rely on Jack to help.  

******************************************************************************

The End:

    I have officially become a permanent resident of the Creepypasta Manor. Along with my boyfriend and his friends, we have all joined together as a family. Among them, I am free to live my life as however I may please, and I will always be accepted. I have never felt as loved as I do now, and it’s ironic, since I was kidnapped by these people! But hey, it’s the best misfortune that has ever happened to me.

And it’s all thanks to a little Halloween spirit.    

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