#moist micheal

[madnessr]

Last Night Part Two

Poly Lost Boys + Michael x Reader

Synopsis: You still ponder what really killed you, the day you died or the day you lost your humanity. When the dawn becomes something you'll never see again, will you ever be able to accept your new nature?

Summary: Micheals Ex-Girlfriend received a concerning phone call from Lucy begging her to come and check up on a now distant and unrecognizable Micheal. But what was meant to be a simple reunion and check-in, instead leads to four very rambunctious bikers and an old lover, to be extremely opposed to letting you leave again.

Warning: Animal mutilation, blood, blood drinking, minor injuries, hurt/comfort, some angst, grinding, murder, corrupted representation of Christianity 

Part One

Word Count: 10k

There will be no explicit or detailed smut because I wanted to keep this fic gender neutral! I'm sorry to anyone who expected some spicer scenes with our boys!

Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me and motivate me to keep writing! Please keep leaving them since I love to read them! This will be the final chapter in the"Last Night" series since I'm dying to write about something new. Let me know what you thought of this!

If you needed to explain how you were feeling, the best way to describe it would be in a state of constant panic. Your mind was throbbing, eyes catching onto everything, yet nothing simultaneously. You had become all too aware of the rising sun, the bright light blinding you. Planting a powerful migraine against your head. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't feel but felt everything at the same time. Heard nothing but could make sense of the squirrels hopping from branch to branch. You cried, utterly unaware of where you were. In that moment of panic, when that monster finally let you go. You didn't look back; you didn't stop until you felt like you had put enough distance between you and Santa Carla. 

You sat somewhere in the forest, crawled against a tree as if the wide bark would somehow hide you as you wheezed for air. The moist soil underneath you tainted your pants, leaving you looking exactly how you felt. Some of your blood had soaked up into the top of your shirt, while the rest grew dry and uncomfortable against your skin. 

Your body ached. Your teeth burned, and so did your hands. Glancing down, you nearly threw yourself back into despair at the sight of your sharp, nail-like claws. What happened to you? And most importantly, what were you now? 

You couldn't help but wail, your knees pressed tightly against your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself. As if you could protect yourself from whatever was happening, even though you knew how nonsensical that hope was. It still provided some comfort for you. 

You had stayed in the position for hours, and although your sobbing was long replaced with tiredness, you tried staying awake. But something about the sun forced your eyes closed, and when you opened them once more, the sun was setting, and your throat burned. You groaned, sitting up from your lying position. You didn't know what to do; you couldn't return to Lucy's, especially if she had something to do with this. The thought made your stomach tie itself in knots, a sinking feeling nearly pressing you against the ground. How have you gotten yourself into this position? 

How could anyone do this to you? Your fists balled at the thought, your sharp nails slicing into your palm. You slowly got up, stumbling around for a little. You could hear so much, could see more precisely than ever before. It gave you a massive headache; some part of you just wanted to curl up against the tree stump and wake up from this nightmare. But you couldn't, no matter how much that thought broke you. This was real; whatever was happening was real. 

You stumbled aimlessly through the woods, trying to figure things out away from the rest of society. A part of you felt safe, knowing that he couldn't find you in the middle of nowhere. The sharp sound of a twig snapping pulled you out of your thoughts, predatory eyes instantly zeroing in on the location the sound originated from. The sound came from a bush, the leaves rustling as something clearly nudged and navigated through the shrubbery. You stood still, not trusting yourself. A peculiar itch, almost like a nervous tick, urged you towards the noise. Your hands craved for something, your teeth ached, and your throat felt dry. Your body screamed for something you didn't understand or refused to recognize. 

Your breath caught in your throat as a small, brown bunny peeked out from the bushes. Its small button nose twitched as it sniffed and analyzed its surroundings. It's cheeks made the whiskers flick, small paws tapping the ground several times before dedicating the mossy floor save enough to hop on. You froze, that nagging urge growing into a raging protest. Before you could even hesitate to question the simple thought, you pounced. The small, high-pitched screech of the bunny brought tears to your eyes as you gripped it. Getting the small fluffy body to your mouth and biting into it. The tiny creature uttered another small cry before going silent, its previously kicking paws and legs halting before slowly sinking and stilling completely. But you didn't care; you couldn't, not when that god-awful nectar was pouring down your throat. Calming the fire, quenching your pain, all through the price of another. 

You were messy, and the grip of your jaw was so fierce that you could hear several crunching of bones under your grip. You gulped up whatever you could, blood dripping out the corners of your mouth, trailing down your neck, and staining your shirt collar. You sucked until nothing came out of the poor bunny anymore, letting go and looking down at the life you just stole. Realization dawns on you like boulders, dropping the poor lifeless body and beginning to weep. You killed something; you killed that bunny. You felt hysterical, hands twisting themselves in your hair as you hyperventilated. The word monster takes the form of a mantra, marching to the beat of your racing heartbeat. 

The burning in your throat died down but was quickly replaced by the aching of your heart. Mourning what you had done it took you nearly an hour to calm down. You had tried wiping and scrubbing off the blood on your body, most likely smudging and making your appearance much worse, but at the moment, all you wanted was that crimson color off of you. It stained, and you weren't sure if you could ever indeed wash it off. It didn't stain your skin, but your soul would bear this mark for eternity. 

You gently shifted the bunny, starting to dig a small hole beside the bushes it hopped out from. Your appearance couldn't get any worse now, blood and dirt-stained clothes. Grimy hands, the dark soil stuck underneath your fingernails. When considering the hole deep enough to prevent any predator from digging up the carcass, gently lower the bunny, covering it with dirt and patting the ground flat afterward. You sat before the makeshift grave, not knowing what to think or feel. There was too much, and as you sat rooted to the ground, you tried figuring out what to do next. A small thought came to you: if anyone could help you now, at least give you refuge, it would be the church. Wasn't that their whole shtick? Providing aid and guidance in moments of doubt, because if that was the case, you'd be a perfect candidate for practicing their moral codes.  

But you had spent nearly the entire day wallowing and mourning your old life, who you were, and fearing what the setting sun made you. No, showing up the way you were now, covered in blood, was a sure way to send a raging mob after you holding pitchforks and blazing torches. You needed to find shelter, hide out the night, and adequately recuperate. But you had no money, and you'd rather die than return to Lucy's home. 

Was that why she had actually brought you here? The thought made your skin colder than it was, but an even worse thought crossed your mind. Twisting your heart in a brutal, vice-like grip. Did Michael know?

Time seemed to tick past you at that moment, the singing breeze creating a symphony of rustling bushes and leaves. It all moved through you, past you, like you weren't really there. You didn't want to breathe, think, or even consider that thought a possibility. Micheal had always been a lousy liar. Currently, that was the only knowledge you had to ground yourself. You tried to control your breathing, but with your rampaging thoughts and the subtle taste of copper in your mouth, you just couldn't. It wasn't that easy, and looking ahead simply felt too overwhelming for you. So, you took things step-by-step, figuring the first thing you could do was get out of this damned forest. 

So, you began walking straight ahead following the setting sun. The orange hue occasionally broke through the thick foliage of branches and leaves. Cascading delicate beams of light onto the mossy floor, the beauty of the sight calmed you. It felt separate from the rest of the world, like a slight pause for you to soak up before returning to the never-resting society you belonged—or instead, used to belong to. 

You couldn't tell how long you walked or where you were, but you knew you had finally made it when you saw the flash of car lights. The sun had finally died for the day, lessening your headache considerably. You finally made it to a gravel-like road, not having any official pavement but clearly hardened from car tires throughout the years. You watched as the car drove on, hoping to follow it to a more populated area. You let the path guide you. You had to be careful; the course contained so many depressions and holes in the ground you didn't want to accidentally twist your ankle. With your current streak of bad luck, you wouldn't put something so ridiculous above you. The longer you walked, the more you couldn't help but wonder how anyone could travel down this path in a car without getting incredibly motion sick. 

However, when you finally saw a house in the upcoming clearing, you weren't greeted by the gradual introduction of neighborhood streets but instead a large farm. Fields and crops litter the area to your left, while pens are to your right. No doubt about yielding livestock. The area practically reeked of cows in the most unpleasant way imaginable. But you found yourself relieved; a farm like this wouldn't have the toughest surveillance to beat, if any, and you felt safer knowing that. You snuck around, keeping yourself hidden as you watched the farmer exit his truck and enter his home. 

You could see so much clearer if the sun had never really set. You glanced around before you found a wooden barn on the south side of the field, rushing your way over and trying to pry the rusted doors open. It didn't work, at least it wouldn't if you didn't want to rip the door off its hinges. You walked around, seeing a broken window. Small, sharp jagged pieces of glass still stuck out here and there, but you managed to lift yourself through it. Not without a complimentary scratch, a low hiss escaped you as you glanced at your cut arm. Your eyes watched as your blood cried from the cut, and a sick part of you was tempted to lick it clean. 

The barn was clearly too old to still be in use; the only company you had was heaps of hay, creaking wood, and a roof that threatened to collapse onto you any minute. The barn had two stories, although the second story only covered one-half of the first floor, a long unstable ladder leading towards it. You had come so far, and the thought of being above viewpoint was somewhat comforting. So, you carefully climbed up the ladder. Letting out a sigh of relief when you made it, throwing yourself onto a lump of hay in the far corner. You felt hidden, away from anything or anyone. 

"They ought' to be here!" Paul exclaimed, clearly exasperated and exhausted from this situation. They had been looking for you all night, neither of them being able to get an ounce of rest knowing you, their mate, had gone missing in Santa Carla of all places. They had traced your steps the next evening when you failed to show up, following your faint scent into a shady alleyway. To say Marko nearly hyperventilated at the smell and sight of your dried blood was an understatement. They were all beyond worried, sick to the bone. Their only consolation is that you were alive; they would've felt it had your bond died. No, you were still alive, and they couldn't rest until they found you. 

"I smell it too; it's faint. They must've been here; their blood must've dried a while ago." Dwayne hadn't spoken a word since you went missing, only ever speaking up when he needed to. He had to remain calm; in a situation like this, David and the others needed a rock to ground themselves on, and despite the emotional anguish he felt, clawing at his heart to cry out for you senselessly, he remained stoic. 

"Search the area. I don't care if you have to stick your nose in the filthy soil; find where the scent leads." David growled; he felt the worst out of everyone; he felt a horrible, cumbersome chain tying itself around his throat. Guilt. He was the coven leader; his job was to ensure his mates were safe. He was immortal, a god-damned creature of hell, but what was the point of being invincible if he couldn't even protect the people who mattered? He shouldn't have let you go that night; he shouldn't have listened to the others. It was in his instinct to take you with him, to keep you in his sight, safe.

 None of them really conversed much since you disappeared, sure they were all mates, but your absence left them incomplete. If the conversation wasn't about finding you, they didn't have it.  

Micheal was fairing the worst, an undeniable feeling of guilt similar to David's settling on his body. Sure, David was supposed to protect everyone. But ultimately, he was the reason you came to Santa Carla in the first place. Maybe if he had hidden it better, his adjustment to his new life, his mother would've never sent you here to hell city of all places. 

Marko couldn't stay still; he had even tried some of Paul's more vigorous weeds to keep him calm. But he couldn't, rushing from place to place like a frightened cat. Some might mistake this as hyperness, but the boys knew the real reason. Pure, unfiltered anxiety. Like a bunny hopping from place to place, a weasel who can't stay still, Marko found you first. Sleeping in a curled, protective form, body covered in several pieces of hay. But the sight of dried blood over you, not hearing your heartbeat, his world crashed down onto him. 

“Y/N?” His voice was croaked, raw from emotion. The simple word, breathless as it was, caught the attention of everyone. 

Marko kneeled, letting his hand ghost your shoulder and arm before shaking you. Seeing your eyes open, as tired and irritated as they were, brought such relief to him that he could cry. However, Paul was a step ahead of him, being the first to join Marko in fussing over you. 

David, Dwayne, and Micheal followed soon after. Dwayne wasted no time helping you sit up, carefully inspecting your body until letting his eyes land on the cut on your arms, studying it carefully before grabbing the cloth tied around his waist and making a makeshift bandage to prevent dirt from coming into your wounds. 

"What happened to you?" Micheal finally piped up, grabbing your hands and inspecting the dried blood. He only let out his own breath when he realized it wasn't your blood. He pulled you into a tight hug, his hold tight and unrelinquishing as he nuzzled his head into the top of your hair. 

"Stop hogging her!" Paul complained, shoving Micheal off. It wasn't anything too forceful, more like a nudge. When Micheal pulled away to fight with Paul, Marko swooped in and pulled you into his arms. Taking on a similar position to Micheals. "You made us worried." He murmured into your neck, giving you another squeeze to reassure yourself you were there. Safe in his arms again. 

All the boys had been so ecstatic to see you; even David's shoulders dropped as he sighed of pure relief. But he was more analytical than the others; he recognized the lack of your heartbeat. The way blood seemed to cling onto you, he could sense it. Somehow, you had become a vampire. The thought made him cold, even more, frigid than he already was. No, his anger was blazing, but it did not radiate a scalding heat but the opposite. His fury was glacial. 

"Wait outside for us." His authoritative voice commanded, sending silence across the shabby barn. They all send pleading looks toward you before slowly leaving. Dwayne grabbed David's shoulder, reminding him to be gentle with whatever the bleach blonde had planned. When the boys had finally left, you felt your ability to breathe return. You had been so overwhelmed, thousands of thoughts and questions running through you. Why weren't they afraid? You were a bloody mess! You could understand Micheal looking for you, but the others as well? 

Your small moment of relief was quickly replaced with dread as you realized you were alone in a room with a man you couldn't bring yourself to lie to. It was silent, the sound of singing crickets seemingly decorating the night air. It would be relaxing if you didn't hate the oppression its silence came with. Slowly getting up, you winced at the reopening of your cut. 

David slowly walked over, carefully reaching out and cupping your cheeks. He stayed like that momentarily, simply soaking in the sight of you before him. Eventually, his hand traveled lower before pushing down the collar of your shirt, revealing the two puncture wounds that changed your life forever. His eyes flashed yellow, a low, animalistic sound escaping him. 

"Who?" 

"What?" You snapped yourself out of your lost haze, finally meeting David's cold stare. It wasn't directed at you, but you, unfortunately, didn't know that. 

"Who did this to you?" 

The question seemingly transported you. Back into the body of a helpless individual, losing their lives in a dingy alleyway. The fear, the panic, it made you crumble. Your knees went weak as you wobbled back onto the floor. "I—" you struggled, trying to put on a brave face in front of such stern eyes. "I—I didn't know them." 

That answer provided a scowl to erupt across David's features, a feeling of uselessness washing over him. How was he supposed to avenge you if you couldn't give him anything to work off of? He sighed, his mind wanting to push further, but a simple glance at your quivering form prevented him from doing so. "Come on, rosebud, let's get you somewhere safe." He eventually settled on that, watching you stumble before picking you up. If he hadn't pushed you enough tonight, he lifted off the ground to reach the bottom, and promptly, the outside of the barn sent your mind reeling. 

You wanted to run, but the feeling of being in someone's arms. Someone you knew, someone who felt oddly safe to you had you staying. The boys glanced at you two, Dwayne coming over and taking you from David's arms. He saw your weak and drowsy state, his heart clenching at the sight. "She hasn't had enough blood." He started calmly, watching you soullessly rest your head against his chest. "We'll give her some in the cave, then she'll be able to recover someplace safe." Dwayne nodded at David's statement, readjusting you in his arms. The movement prompted you to open your eyes, the smell of his leather jacket oddly settling to you. "Get some rest Y/N; we'll take care of you now. You'll feel better soon," you nodded slowly. Closing your eyes and resigning yourself to whatever the future holds for you now. It couldn't get any worse anyways. 

"Are they still sleeping?" 

An exasperated sigh echoed throughout the cave, Dwayne rolling his eyes before rubbing his temples. "You asked five minutes ago; yes, they're still sleeping!" 

A loud hush followed from David and Micheal, both scolding the two for talking so loudly. Everyone was on edge; you had slept for nearly two days now. And although odd sleeping patterns weren't rare for fledglings, you were a neglected fledgling, which provided them all with many concerns and worries. The birth of a new vampire was often labeled as a fledgling, as in the eyes of vampires, you, and your very unique nature, was akin to that of a baby. Similarly to neglecting babies upon birth, they weren't sure what consequences you'd suffer from upon waking. 

"David, we need to wake them. They need to feed." Micheal chimed in, his need to coddle you almost overbearing. Although the boys had given him a fair share of tough love, they made sure his fledgling stage was a healthy one. He was more moody than ever, but changes like those were common for at least a year after turning. Although David acted the coldest, he had been the most persistent that Micheal was feeding enough and adequately. A complete mother-hen in denial. 

David sighed, getting up from his wheelchair-like throne and making his way over to the bed you and Dwayne were snuggled in. The sight would've warmed his heart if the circumstances would've been different. He walked around before settling down on the edge of the bed closest to you. He gave Dwayne an approving nod, "Wake them; they've rested enough." He whispered, gently stroking your cold cheek before pulling away. His poor rosebud. 

Dwayne gently shook your shoulder, shifting you off of him in order not to scare you when you woke up, watching you slowly stir awake, blinking the fatigue off of your cute expression. 

For you, it has, somehow, gotten worse. 

Waking up, you felt feverish; your body ached similarly to how it had done hours ago. When you had—had killed that bunny. 

Your hand instinctively clutched at your throat, trying to somehow dull the ache. Your hearing was blurred, but you heard distant hushes and orders before fully coming too. Your eyes focused on the concerned figures of David and Dwayne, practically looking over you as Dwayne took your hand away from your throat, hushing your pain-fueled whines. "Shh, it's okay. You're okay." Dwayne's soft but stern voice seemed to stabilize you, but the familiar need left your body twisting and shifting. Every little muscle felt utterly uncomfortable, aching torturously. 

David gently combed his fingers through your hair, trying his best to calm you down. Seeing his mate, his little vampire, in such distress ruined him. "It's okay, rosebud, we're here to help." He hummed, glancing at Dwayne as they silently communicated. They slowly helped you sit up, watching the way your hand unknowingly sharpened its nails. Your body prepares itself for a meal. 

"What's happened?" You stammered, hating the way you were losing control. A deep sense of fear washed over you, draining into your being. "I—David, Dwayne—"You couldn't form a proper sentence, but the words you did manage to say put the two eldest vampires into a protective frenzy. 

Dwayne hushed you, gently rubbing a soothing pattern against your back. David already shrugged off his jacket, shifting his shirt to properly expose his neck to you. He watched with narrowed eyes how your gaze halted against his suddenly exposed skin, watching the small bob of your throat as you swallowed at sight. 

Dwayne gently cupped the back of your head, nudging you towards David. "You're hungry, baby; look at David. He's offering you a meal, sweetheart. You'll feel better once you feed; trust us; we'll take care of you." 

Your unsure gaze flashed between them, that odd feeling once again tugging at you. Your body, more than ever, felt pulled to them; they gave you comfort. A need to be with them, and in a moment of weakness, you thought yourself giving in to them. Letting your body get pulled; once close enough, David snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to practically be sitting in his lap. You inhaled the sweet scent that seemingly surrounded David, making your tense shoulders loosen, your body easing into the comfort that David provided. The bleach blood rubbed your back, trying to soothe you further. "Come on, rosebud, let those instincts take over." 

The two could tell you weren't going to take a bite on your own, your mind and body too perplexed to accept the reality of your situation. Dwayne reached over, letting one of his fingernails extend into a claw-like shape and making a small slash at David's neck, letting his crimson blood trickle from the wound. 

As if the smell and sight triggered your buried instincts, you latched onto David's neck. Your fangs pierce the skin with a painful clumsiness typical for a fledgling. But the sound of your eager gulps had both of the vampires relaxing, Dwayne gently moving your hair to one side as David held you close. "That's it, good job." The blonde praised, keeping a firm but caring grip on the back of your head, not letting you go until you had a full feeding. The praise, the touch, and the comfort from both of them allow you to fully relax. Letting out small sighs of relief as you drank greedily, gulping down the sweet crimson from David. Letting his blood calm every screaming nerve inside you, replacing the dull ache with a welcomed high. "Good job, sweetheart; see how good it feels to feed?" Dwayne's voice cooed gently into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

It took a while before you unlatched from David, his blood messily spread and smeared across your mouth. The sight nearly made Dwayne coo at your adorable form, your eyes a little glassy from feeling so overwhelmed. David, on the other hand, felt overly satisfied, watching your relaxed state of a post-feed high, gently nudging you to lay back down. 

"What a messy little fledgling you are." He teased softly, chuckling as he watched your eyes droop. Now that your needs have been met, you feel an unexplainable tiredness, the suddenness of your exhaustion setting your nerves off once more. Before you could push yourself up again, Dwayne guided you back down. Covering you in a blanket, "Sleep baby, it's normal to feel tired after such a big meal." 

You nodded, at that moment, not overthinking. "We'll be here when you wake up; rest now, rosebud." You heard David's voice whisper, the two vampires watching you drift off into a peaceful slumber. 

Once they were sure you were fully asleep, they slowly crawled out of the bed. Greeting the upset-looking vampires in the main hall, all angry about being benched by the oldest. "Why did you get to feed her?" Marko cursed, casting an irritated glare toward David, who sat back down with smugness. Flashing your sloppy bite mark off to the others with pride. "Because I'm the oldest and our coven leader Marko." He explained calmly, reveling in the jealousy of others. 

Paul groaned, having laid himself back up on the couch. His head was hidden in one of the cushions. "They probably looked so cute.." Dwayne smiled, your hesitance and gradual acceptance being awfully adorable in his eyes. "They sure was." He mused, making both Marko and Paul groan. 

Micheal sighed, a part of him just glad you ate. But he feared for what you'd be like after waking up from your nap, with a clear head this time. Would you hate him? Indeed you couldn't accept this life so quickly; among all of them, he was the only one who didn't see this feeding as acceptance. He knew you still had a lot of things to say, and none of the boys were ready to hear it. 

When you woke up again, your body felt better, stronger, and more rejuvenated. You couldn't really remember what happened when you woke up the first time, only having a hazy memory of David and Dwayne being by your side. You sat up, looking around you and the bed you were In. The sheer curtains around the bed didn't let you see anything besides silhouettes around the cave, prompting you to get up and shift out of bed. 

You glanced around, analyzing your surroundings. When did you get inside a cave? You could hear distant chatter, following the sound until you entered the central part of the cave. A decrepit fountain in the center of it all, your steps echoing across the stone floors. 

"You're awake!" Paul perked up as he turned around at the sound of footsteps, grinning as he saw you. He waved you over, watching your confused stare before finally making your way around and sitting down on the couch beside him. The couch cushions were soft and overused, letting you practically sink into the pillow-like cushion. 

"How do you feel?" He asked, his eyes carrying the familiar blown-out expression you were used to. "Right now? I'm surprisingly fine." Paul grinned at the answer, taking a quick drag of his joint before moving closer. "Now that's all I ever want to hear, baby." 

"Piss off, you crack-head!" Micheal hissed, shoving Paul's face away from yours. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, standing up from the couch. "Micheal, we need to talk." You said sternly, ignoring the way Paul cackled behind you two. 

The brunette nodded, walking back over to the bed the boys had set up for you. If David returned from his hunt early with Dwayne, the two overprotective vampires would roast him alive if they found out he had taken you out of their nest. He slid the curtains closed, trying to regain a semblance of privacy for you. "Okay," he murmured, crossing his legs as you two settled on the bed. "Hit me with it." 

You sighed, initially wanting to leave wherever the hell you were. But you didn't seem to have the strength to settle back on the bed, sitting criss-cross and fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "What the hell has been going on? I mean—what am I? What are you?" Questions kept escaping you like a bunch of word vomit, making Micheal hold up his hands to try and silence you. 

"Slow down," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't want to hurt you with this information, but he knew it was a hard pill to swallow. 

"Firstly, you're a vampire. We're not sure from who, but someone had turned you. The act is done by being bitten and then promptly consuming the other's blood." 

As if the world didn't feel like it was falling down onto your shoulders, the cumbersome weight of your malicious reality certainly did wonders in keeping you in a constant state of disparity. You didn't want to believe Micheal, but you knew better than to sit in a puddle of denial. It wouldn't change a thing; you'd just drag out the pain longer. Before you could properly grieve your past life, the two devil twins came barging into your space. Jumping onto the mattress, making all of you bounce into the air before landing not so gracefully against the mattress. 

"Jesus Christ, you two! Will you chill out? This ain't exactly easy for her to take in." Micheal argued, sitting back up with an irritated stare. But there was nothing much his words could do as the two blondes surrounded you. 

"Cheer up, sugar! Being a vampire ain't all that bad; we can do some pretty cool things too!" Marko cheered, his energy quickly matched by Paul as they tried to cheer you up. They couldn't stand the sight of you sulking, no one in the cave could, but everyone was so preoccupied with your situation that even the century-old immortals didn't know what to do. 

But you still couldn't get over the fact that you now had to kill people; what had happened to you filled you with such rage that you didn't know what to do with yourself. You had been wronged, and every fiber of your miserable being wanted to rip whoever did this to you apart by the seams. "Mhm, sounds great, Marko." You murmured into the crook of your arm, not really paying attention as you sat curled up on the bed. 

Both Marko and Paul glanced at each other at your dull response, Paul's expression contorting to one of worry. He wasn't the best at comforting you, especially since he had wanted his turning, and although the thought of someone else harming you made his blood boil; in secret, a deeply-hidden part of him was glad. Now you were like them and could live together for the rest of your immortal lives. The two glanced at each other before nodding, bouncing off the cave and hiding behind the sheer curtains. 

You hadn't even noticed them leaving, or at least you didn't acknowledge it. But the sound of subtle little squeaks had you lifting your head, letting out a small gasp of your own as you were bombarded by two blonde bats. One had fluffy blonde hair, while the other's fur appeared more curly, no doubt being reminiscent of the two blonde bikers. "Paul—Marko?" You called out, getting little chirps back in return. Paul flew around you a couple of times before landing on your head, making a mess of your hair. Marko didn't sit still, flying around you, giving you a slight nip here and there to keep you on edge as you laughed. 

"I didn't know you could turn into bats!" You laughed, for a moment finding paece in the distraction the two provided. The sound of your small laughter provided the cave with an unseeable light, but all of them could feel it. Paul and Marko flopped back into their human form, grabbing your arm and hoisting you off of the bed. "Come on, darlin', you can do it too!" Paul cheered, Marko, nodding eagerly as the two distracted you. 

Dwayne put the bag of clothes he had gotten for you in his hand down, letting his feet drop to the floor with David's. He let out a sigh, getting up and walking over to the two terror twins. "So she can fall onto the cave floor?" He asked, his disapproval clear in his authoritative tone. 

"Lighten up, Dwayne! So you fall a little; what's so wrong with that? It's all part of the fun." Marko argued, mentally challenging Dwayne. Everyone knew their intention was to distract you, and although Dwayne couldn't stand the sight of you sulking, he wouldn't put you in danger, either. He prefers you brooding then having to you see your body black and blue from screaming bruises. 

"You call falling on your ass fun?" Micheal chummed in, letting his body rest against the headboard of the bed, dramatically rubbing his butt to lighten the mood. 

"Not everyone is as bad as you are when it comes to flying, Mikey," Paul argued, rolling his eyes. 

"She shouldn't transform until she's had a proper meal." The authoritative voice of David chimes in, effectively ruining your mood. You wanted to stand up and argue with the blonde, to stomp your foot into the ground and demand he stops commanding you. But you were out of your element here; even if you wanted to be stubborn, you're just hurting yourself. "I am not killing anyone, David." 

You watched his cold eyes narrow at you, wanting to watch you waiver, but seeing the resilient look on your face made him sigh. He pulled out a cigarette in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves. His little mate was denying themselves proper health, and although he might act uncaring, it was worrying him sick. The boys had agreed to give you some time to adjust, but as the coven leader, it was his job to assure the health and safety of all his members. Especially you. 

"Don't worry about it; you can still drink from us whenever you feel hungry." Micheal hummed, his tone gentle and reassuring as he rested his hand on your shoulder. Gently rubbing the tense muscle as you settled back into your seat. You nodded, cringing subtly at the idea before deciding to drop it. 

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Paul's sultry voice echoed in your ear, making your hands twitch with an unfamiliar itch. Excitement spreads through you, filling you with a sense of adrenaline. You slowly realized what position you were actually in, Paul lying underneath you, your hips straddling his as he rested his hand on your thigh. In your roughness, his jacket seemed to half slide down his shoulders, now resting against the crevice of his elbows. His mesh-like top left little to the imagination, his pale chest on display for your hungry eyes. He looked delicious. 

As if Paul could tell he was losing your attention, he rutted his hips against your aching nerves. Letting out a shaky sigh, his signature crooked grin spreading across his features as he watched you suck in a breath. "Eyes on me baby, just feel with me, yeah?" Despite neither of you needing air, he sounded practically breathless; but you also felt breathless. Your post-drinking haze left your body so sensitive, every little spark of friction igniting a new addiction deep within you. You two felt like pure sin. 

You have been in the cave for about two weeks now. Letting yourself feed regularly off of the vampires you were staying with, none of you liked to address the elephant in the room that was your turning. The mate bond between you all had strengthened, leading you all to be closer than before throughout this time. Even David acted softer around you. But something you weren't prepared for was the many feelings associated with feeding, more specifically the lust. 

In all your rampant thoughts, you failed to see Marko pull the sheer curtain back, his eyes lighting mischievously at the display. He tugged off his boots, slowly sneaking over to you; your back still turned to him. He watched silently before slowly pushing himself against you. His chest against your back, the smell of the forest and fresh blood sticking to his skin. You moaned at the smell, letting the back of your head rest against his shoulder. As if sensing your uncertainty about actually indulging yourself, Marko slowly let his delicate hands trail towards your hips. Slowly, he guided yours to grind against Paul's aching bulge. 

You let out a shaky breath, one that came out shaky and chopped as you let your body tingle at the feeling. Although it felt good at that very moment, it only fueled your need. Your hand gripped Markos, a weak attempt at stopping him from tempting you. 

"Ah ah, let me darlin'." He mused, his tone so coy you could practically hear his smugness. He continued rocking your hips, one of the hands holding your hips gradually moving upwards sensually before ending at your chin. Cupping the skin in a firm grip, he slowly removed your head hiding in the crook of his neck and titled it towards the debauched sight of a panting Paul. His bottom lip was caught in between his lips, and one of his eyes squeezed shut as his chest heaved up and down in a complete state of breathlessness.

 "Look at him, all messy for you." He pointed out, moving your hips to push particularly roughly against Paul, making both of you moan at the friction. Unlike Dwayne and Michael, Marko and Paul didn't want to comfort you in the sense that this situation was terrible, but instead accept what you now were. How good it could feel, what it was like to have the freedom to explore every ounce of your most concealed secrets. 

"Lesson one of being a vampire," Marko mused, removing his hold on you. The two changed positions with you. Paul now leaning his back against the headboard, legs spread with you in between them, your back pressed against his chest. His hand trailed around your waist, teasing your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingers now torment your searing skin, which in reality was just as freezing as the two blondes was. Marko nudged your legs open, laying on his front so his head rested conveniently between your thighs. He guided them open, caressing your skin soothingly.

"Feeding is often accompanied by an insatiable–" Marko purred, kissing up the length of your thigh. "And nearly irresistible," He continued but was cut off by Paul, who had begun massaging your sides; "hunger," Paul finished. 

"So why don't you lean back and let us care for ya'?" Paul mused, practically whispering the phrase into your ear. In a similar fashion, you would've imagined the snake talking Eve into biting into the apple, Paul and Marko were the current embodiment of Lucifer for you, and this time you weren't in the mood to repent. No, you'd welcome the flames of hell eagerly, the masochist inside you hoping to feel the sting of its flames. With a nod of your head, a messy high clouding you with need, you officially sold your soul to the two devils holding you. 

Marko grinned, his lips trailing kisses up your thigh, inching closer to where you needed him to be. They were teasing you, your needy eyes watching Marko kiss over your most needy spot, his teeth nipping the top of your pants, one of his fangs sticking out from the fabric. He looked up, his darkened gaze connected with yours as he patiently pulled your undergarments down. 

As if in a desperate attempt not to lose your attention, Paul nipped at your neck. The sudden action sends a small jolt of electricity through you, pulling a soft mewl from you. Marko cooed at the noise while Paul chuckled, both clearly amused by your current state. They knew how hormonal fledglings could be, like animals in heat; Micheal was no different.

They had helped him out too, and they were most eager to provide their services now as well. 

No matter how hard they tried, how often they showed you the normality in their ways. You couldn't wrap your head around it, that nagging resistance keeping you awake. You couldn't enter this life without committing yourself to a final attempt at regaining your old one. So, when the others went out to eat after feeding you. You left, setting out for your last, and final attempt at regaining your old humanity.

The leaves rustled with a strange ferocity as you pushed your way through the untraveled path. You didn't want to accept what you were; there needed to be an alternative. You didn't want to admit it, so when the daunting forest around your figure cleared, you saw the back of the church. You wanted to believe in that hope, that perhaps all these values preached and thrown down your throat had a purpose. 

The forest was at the back of the church, revealing a small garden enclosed by a white picket fence. You hopped it, letting your bloody hands stain the purity of its color permanently. You rushed towards the back door, balling your first and desperately pounding in the creaky wooden door. You quickly shifted your focus, trying to open the door and jiggling the handle. "Please! Someone—anyone, please!" 

Not hearing an answer, you stumbled back. Your tears make you choke on your own sorrow, rushing around toward the front of the building. "Please, Father! Anyone, please!" You begged, continuing to slam your hand against the door. It wasn't until it opened that you stood stunned, chest heaving, hands stained, and body soaked. You wailed in front of this man's sanctuary. Begging entry. 

The man appeared elderly, with white and gray hair dominating the little hair he still had left on his head. His black cassock made his position as a priest clear, but you didn't dare move. You felt the need to be invited in. 

"Goodness! Child, come, come inside." He ushered you into the old building; there were candles lighting the area, casting everything in a warm glow. You stepped inside, unable to stop your shaking, until the man covered you in a blanket. He was probably trying to provide your frigid body with warmth. "What happened to you?" 

"Father, please, you need to help me. I need help—please, I need aid." You stammered, letting him guide you into a back room away from the main hall. He listened to you, his brows and face contorted in worry. "Calm down; you are safe now." 

The room seemed less decorated but more elaborate than you would've thought it would be in the church, but you didn't say much as you sat down in the empty chair across the old desk. This must've been some sort of office. The priest stared for a moment, his gaze lingering on your stained hands before shuffling around the desk. His shoes thumped across the red carpet covering half of the dark oak floors. He sat down, letting his hands intertwine, and he rested them folded on the edge of the desk. "So, my child, what brings you here? What has brought you to my doors in such distress?" 

You needed a moment to collect yourself for that question. What hadn't happened to you in the last week? Every horror imaginable seemed to be flowing through your life at the moment. A part of you wanted to lie, but you knew that hiding the true nature of your case would prevent you from getting any practical help. This was necessary. Clearing your throat, you slowly gather your perseverance to continue. 

"Father, you must believe what I have to say. I am new to Santa Carla, but in my stay, I've encountered death and despair more than in any other place." You started, your voice shook and a clear representation of what you were feeling, utterly distraught. The man nodded, seemingly focused on you as he urged you to continue. "But what I originally thought were simple gangsters, feuds, and typical street violence became much darker. Vampires, Father, Vampires reside in this town, and I've found myself to be one of them." 

You were desperate; frantic eyes watched the man inhale and lean back in his chair. He thought deeply, or at least the look of concentration was deeply etched into the creases of his face. He sighed, uncrossing his hand and gently reaching out to rest a comforting hand on top of yours. 

"My child, I've read the bible well. The true structure of this world and how it came to be, the only time vampires were ever named—or mentioned. Alukah only ever being mentioned in Sefer Chasidim, where the creature is understood to be a living human being but can shape-change into a wolf. Alukah can also roughly be translated to "blood-lusting monster" or, in your case, a vampire." 

He had a calm tone, deep and raspy, but it seemed to have an oddly chiding tone. He moved away, leaning fully back now against his chair as he chuckled. "But my dear, I assure you that these are old tales; such demons do not exist among us anymore." 

His words were like a splash of cold water to the face, a deep, unsettling reality overcoming you. You sounded crazy; of course, no one would believe you. "But Father!" He held his hand up to silence you, shaking his head in a disapproving manner. "You can lie to me, but you cannot fool the Lord." 

Anger seemed to replace your sorrow, standing up abruptly, the stool you were previously resting in falling to the floor with a loud clunk. "I am not lying!" You screeched, your face unknowingly morphing into one similar to the boys. Angled features, sharp bones, and burning yellow eyes. The man stumbled back, stammering as he took in the demonic sight that was you. His hand unknowingly grabbed onto his cross, moving out of his chair. 

"I need your help Father; I have not consumed human blood yet! There needs to be a way to fix this!" Once again, you were pleading. A part of you was growing sick of it; how could a man detest your current nature but refuse to help you revert back to your "purer" self at the same time? It was hypocritical. 

The hand holding the pectoral cross shook with a small tremor, breath equally as rough when it escaped his shaken form. His free hand covered his mouth, either trying to hide his labored breathing or trying to regain composure. You weren't quite sure. The silence in the room now was unsettling, threatening even—leaving you on edge. Finally, the old man's hoarse voice cut through the air as he removed the pale hand from his mouth. He waved it toward him as he walked over before passing you and opening the door. Standing beside the frame as he beckoned you to follow. 

"Come come, my child. We must act quickly; you have the devil inside you. With every moment we waste, it'll grow stronger." You nodded, cringing at his choice of words before slowly following him. You would've argued at the choice of words but didn't seem to have the energy to do so. You followed as he led you through the church, leading you towards the back door you had previously banged on. He opened it, leading you towards the backyard. To the left, there was a small gravely path that shortly led to a wooden shed. Wood rot was apparent when you looked at the dying boards that made up the shed's walls. 

He unlocked the shed with his key; the loud cling of chains dropping was quickly followed by the squeak of old hinges being forced to move again as he opened the door. It was an average shed if it didn't have a hidden doorway behind a shabby bookshelf. The old man pushed the shelf to the left, revealing a mossy, dirty stairway further down in what you assume to be a basement. 

As if the priest could see your confusion, he began to say, "This church used to perform a multitude of exorcisms. We used to do it in the old church, but people began associating it too much with demons, so we renovated the old shack basement to do the job. That was a while ago," He mumbled, walking down the steps and revealing an equally run-down setup. There was a bed, shabby with a mattress stained with yellow and brown. The bed frame seemed to be made of rusted metal, not undoubtedly a cheap purchase at the time. Restrains we're hanging from each end of the bed. 

Every fiber of your being was begging you not to lay on that mattress, but your own desperation convinced you. It convinced you to lie down and let that man tie you up; it made you trust him to cure you. 

"So what will you do?" 

"What I need too." 

His gruff voice echoed through the room; he had tied something loosely around your eyes. Explaining that it was all part of the process. You heard him open on an old shelf, the sound of clinking wood making you uneasy. Your instincts screamed at you, but you weren't sure for what. You didn't understand yourself anymore, and the frustration coursing through you nearly brought you to tears. You just wanted all of this to be over, to understand yourself once again. 

"And what would that be?" You edged further, feeling like something was wrong. 

"What I was born to do." 

His voice grew darker, lowering an octave or two, making you shift. The blindfold slid at your defiance, sliding off of one of your eyes. Snapping them open, you took in a sight you'd surely never forget. There, a man swore to do no harm and held a wooden spike in his shaky hand. The other clutching his cross to his heart while whispering mantras. He didn't even hesitate as he saw your yellow eyes open before he slashed forward, putting his full force into the throw of the stake. 

Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was simply foolish for the man to believe leather binds would chain you. But in a moment of adrenaline, you pushed your body away from the mattress, your wrists and ankles suffering a burn from the sudden action as you snapped yourself away from your murder. Watching the way his sheer force stabbed the stake through the mattress, your eyes lingering on sight. 

That blow was meant to kill you. 

"You fucking bastard!" You growled, a distorted tone to your voice as you took a step towards him. But with your lack of control, your hand was around the man's throat with his old back smashed against one of the walls. 

"I trusted you! What kind of priest are you? You are meant to aid, protect, and serve. I am still one of God's creations! You taint your very purpose in this life with your actions!" The hand around his neck tightened, your claws unwilling to draw blood. Your eyes zeroed in on the sinful liquid, the smell so much more intense than of any of the boys.

The boys. 

David was right; they were right. There was no turning back for you. 

"You will never—be one of God's—creations." 

Those were his last words before you ripped his throat out with your teeth. Dismembering the man's jugular, drinking away the last of your crumbling humanity. There was an irony in it that the remains of your dying humanity weren't taken from the vampires you now lived with but by a human themselves. 

The man fell to the floor, eyes a haunting color. They were cloudy; you couldn't describe the sight of his pale skin mimicking the shade of yours. 

You wailed, grieving everything you were as you sat hunched on the floor. Covered in the blood of the man who tried, and in some way—killed you. 

You weren't sure how long you sat there, frozen, until the boys came. A hand gently shaking your shoulder, making you jump, meeting the eyes of a saddened Paul. "Oh, darlin'.." He whispered, watching you stammer, desperate to explain. But he simply picked you up, bridal-style, and led you out where the rest of the boys stood. 

Marko walked over, letting Paul set you on the ground before the curly-haired vampire pulled you into a tight hug. A hug which all of the boys joined, their hearts breaking at the sound of your sobs. "It's okay, it'll be okay," Marko whispered, holding you close. 

"Come on, let's take you home." David sighed after a moment. His voice drowned out in the hauntingly silent night. 

That evening was the second and final marking of your death. The first takes place in an alleyway by a vampire, and the job is finished by a human. You struggled after that night; you barely ate or talked. You felt awful, your thoughts not abandoning you or your guilt. You were a murderer. 

That all had taken place a few days ago, your body now sat on the roof along the boardwalk. It was a motel, two stories high, so you found a semblance of privacy on top of the concrete roof. You sat on the thick stone wall of a fence, letting your legs dangle over the edge. 

"I'll never forget the day I made my first victim." Micheals voice cut through the distant booming of chatter and joy taking place below you by the adolescent and naive party-goers on the boardwalk. 

"It was April 6th, at about 12:06. I lost my life forever." He went on, walking closer towards you. Stopping beside you and leaning on the fence with his forearms. His gaze lingered on the glowing boardwalk, casting everything surrounding it in a golden orange. 

"So we're all murderers.." You murmured, eyes not meeting him, but you knew he was now looking at you. Your tone was cold and distant. 

"He was a child molester." Micheal spat, standing up and gently moving you so you looked at him. "We don't have to be monsters, Y/N; we don't have to kill the good. I chose to take the evil from this world, and you can too." 

You nodded weakly, not in the mood to argue. You let a frail smile tug on your lips, nodding to his words as you let him wrap an arm around your shoulder and squeeze you close before slowly leaving. Giving you space. Once again, you were surrounded by silence. Nothing but the blurred screams from ride-goers, drunks laughing and prancing around on the ground beneath you.  

"He's wrong." That crystal clear voice, his tone stern and unwavering even if David tried to sound gentle. But his words felt icy like a cold bucket of water was poured over you. Sinking into the skin, leaving goosebumps to ravage your already frigid body. When Micheals words provided comfort, as if holding your wounded heart in his hands, David seemed to drop it instead. 

"What?" 

He walked over, the sound of his boots tapping against the concrete. You didn't necessarily look at him, but you noticed he settled beside you. His body bent forward, forearms resting against the wall-like railing on the rooftop. You both stood there in silence, watching the stars glitter across the ocean's surface. The silent, cruel breeze drifts through your hair and body. Seagulls cried, and boardwalk goers partied, but you felt so far away from it all. It made you question the finality of your death and where it had really occurred. Did you die in that alleyway or when you let go of your remaining humanity? You were sure a part of you must die in order to take a life; death is inevitable for either party. There is no such thing as only one dying; the other might live but never completely. Your humanity had died along with that priest. 

"You are a monster." David's voice was stern, clear, and factual. Your gaze turned to him finally, seeing the way he stared so longingly out at the sea before turning to you. 

"What the fuck David?" You snapped, feeling like this was not the time for him to throw his own values onto you. You had killed someone, taken a life, and instead of trying to bring you any consultation, he insulted you? 

"Don't you think I feel shitty enough? Fuck this, I know, okay? I know you don't need to stand here and rub it in my face!" Why had you expected anything else from the blonde, you couldn't lie to David, and he had neither lied to you. He was, on many occasions, the truth. 

"You are a monster, Y/N. You will never die; you will never age." He hummed, ignoring your outburst as he took out a cigarette and lit it. He held it up to his lips, taking a long drag, dropping his hand against the railing before blowing out the smoke. "But you must feed." There was a finality in his town that made you suffer as if you were the only one who noticed the morbid aberration of your circumstances. But how were you supposed to explain your regret about eating a sheep to a hungry pack of wolves? 

"What if I don't want to?" You asked, voice hoarse from the raw emotions you felt. You wanted to smack him, berate him to find another time to torment you. 

"You'll kill someone you actually like." He whispered an answer that took you off guard. Eyes trailing back to him, you noticed that haze. A similar one to what Michael used to wear whenever he encountered an old memory. Yes, David seemed to be dancing in his past. 

"But make no mistake, Y/N. You are a monster. A filthy abomination that feeds off the weak, the defenseless." He focused his cold gaze on you, "You will fall apart the day you realize just how much you enjoy it. The screams, the suffering, the pain. It will be the only consistent factor in your life. And when you look around and see the constant deterioration of mankind. You will turn and see us." He took another drag of his cigarette before dropping it, suffocating its flame with his boot. "We are monsters too, Y/N." 

"I will never let you forget it. I will tell you every day before you rest and when you awake." There was an odd gentleness to his tone, one that made you look up at him once more. Although you could hardly bear to keep eye contact with the man. 

"Why?" You had a thousand questions running wild throughout your head, an intimidating rampage and riot pushing through, begging millions of questions to be answered. They stuck in your throat like a lump, a noose around your vocals, keeping you silent. Finally, you managed to settle on that one word. Why? 

"Do you think a lion thinks of itself as a monster when it eats a gazelle?" 

"We aren't animals, David–"

"But aren't we? We're all just mammals trying to get by. A lion doesn't feel guilty for killing because that's what a lion simply does. They need to in order to survive." His eyes seemed to burn into you, a desperate sense of vulnerability taking hold of his features. It seemed David wanted to spare you from your own feelings, to clear the path you were going on, no doubt one he had walked before. 

"But what if we asked the gazelle what they thought of the lion. When a meal would mean losing a brother or sister, mother or father, the gazelle would see the lion as a monster too." 

A heavy wind blew through your hair, reminding you of the night air. Whispering about the daytime and how you would never be able to see it again. Feel its warmth kiss your skin, see its joyful birth across the horizon. The wind mocked you, and the night sky never felt so empty before.

"So?" You asked, wanting a conclusion to this lesson. A small chuckle parted from David, the blonde finding your impatience amusing. 

"The term monster is subjectable. It depends on who you ask, rosebud. To them," He gestured to the late-night party-goers. "You will always and forever be a monster." But before you could frown, even dare settle on that phrase for too long. He turned to you, taking your hand and squeezing it. As if you'd let go, leaving him alone. "But to us, you are everything."

"I'll call you a monster until the word doesn't sting anymore." 

He whispered, cupping your cheek. You noted the lack of his gloves, for the first time touching his bare skin. He leaned closer, kissing the top of your forehead lovingly. It was an embrace in some way, a sweet and gentle promise. That no matter what you become, he'd love you. 

"We'll be down at the boardwalk if you want to join us; you can't stay sulking forever, rosebud.." He whispered, leaving you alone to think once more. 

When you did make your way down the sandy docks, feeling grain against your shoe as you walked with a sunken head. You wondered how your life had changed so drastically since you came to Santa Carla, whether everything was for better or worse. 

"Hey, Darlin!"

The booming voice of a happy Paul called to you, making you look up. Before you stood your gang of boys leaning against the wooden railing of the boardwalk pier. Their bikes were parked beside them, all smiling as they looked at you. There was fondness in their eyes you could describe, but as you walked over and were encircled by your boys. All equally ecstatic to see you—you felt less alone. Welcomed even. You still had a long way to go, but for once in a long while, did you feel alright. Perhaps, becoming a vampire wasn't the worst thing that's ever happened to you. 

#the lost boys 1987 #poly lost boys x reader #tlb #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #tlb x reader #tlb paul #tlb david #tlb marko #tlb dwayne #dwayne tlb #paul tlb #marko tlb #david tlb #laddie tlb #star tlb #the lost boys star #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #tlb fanfic #tlb x you #tlb headcanons #tlb imagine #the lost boys paul #the lost boys michael #tlb michael #michael x reader

[malewgtfstories]

The start of hibernation.

On a cold October day that sent chills down your spine, you could tell something was off in the air. Kevin was always the skinny, short, and shy type of guy in his late 20s. Kevin was always underweight which worried his big-boned bear of a friend Michael. Thus in a last-ditch attempt, he concocted an idea to plum up his friend.

Kevin was kinda skeptical to go, but he ended up going anyway. As he knocked on Micheals's door he could smell a delicious aroma coming from the other side. When Micheal opened the door the smell of a full three-course meal bombarded his nose. His stomach churned in curiosity at what was waiting for him at the dining table. "Yo man, what have you been up to" Said Michael. "Nothing much and you man" responded Kevin. "Life has treated me well so far. Are you ready for the meal of a lifetime" Kevin walked in as he felt an unease as if what was awaiting from him was much more than just a meal. As he sat down on Michael's cushioned chairs he felt all of his doubts go away. Then came the first plate: A full rack of ribs supersaturated with barbecue. With a diced-up buttered-up sausage and a grilled barbecued chicken. With a side of deep-fried salted fries. A diced pickle and a toasted bread. Lastly for a drink a pint of beer. All have a light dusting of something on top of the food.

Kevin wasn't sure if he could eat it all but once he took his first bite he was hypnotized and couldn't do anything but just eat and eat. And after a few minutes, Kevin was done with the plate. He didn't even notice the weight slowly packing on him the chair slightly starined in Kevin's new weight. The next plate was Burgur with a foot-in radius. with a slice of delicious and crunchy bacon. A side of fries and 16 buffalo wings. And a huge chocolate milkshake. And like last time he slurped everything up. Once he looked down everything was gone. His stomach jutted out so much more and his whole body started to become super itchy. He was slowly transforming into a carbon copy of Micheal. The chair has holding on or dear life about to break under the pressure of his weight. Kevin is almost done with his bear transformation.

And just like that, all the food was gone and the only thing that was left was dessert. The last thing left was a triple chocolate cake, with whipped cream to enhance its delicious ad moist taste. Once Kevin took the first bite he fell deeper into the rabbit hole and ate the whole cake.

By the time he was done, he felt like he was about to pop. He broke out of the spell and once he looked down he saw a bear of a man. Kevin stood up to assess the damage that has been done. His stomach was so far out that he couldn't see his feet. And not to mention that but he was also 2 feet taller. He was somewhat aroused but the transformation and felt that his dick had also grown. He was so turned on that he rushed to the bathroom the jerk off. He left Micheal there and turned on with his beautiful masterpiece. Kevin started to touch all around his body exploring all the cracks and crevivces. He loved the feeling of his new coat. His hands had grown and had roughened up. Thus this was a new feeling for him. Because of this, he came faster than he usually did. As he came out with nothing on since non of his old clothes didn't fit he went to the dining room and then reality set in. He was so scared of his new body and saw no one else to blame but Micheal. But Micheal calmed him down and showed him that there was nothing to be afraid of and then he kissed Kevin in a long and passionate kiss.

#bear tf #maleweightgainstories #bearification #thin to chunky #belly expansion #fat tf #weight gain tf #lard ass #maleweightgain

[babeeangel]

Heyy ! Could you maybe do a fluff about micheal kaiser ? (If u read reo egoist league)

Hes so fine fr 😫

Thanks !

Sure~ I was so surprised when I entered the fandom to see he had so many fans ! (I also didn't expect him to have blue hair ??) Anyways this is so simple but i hope u like it even tho it’s short !

"Your new chapstick tastes good"

Michael Kaiser, fluff, 373 words.

Behind the steam, you heard a beeping sound. You looked to the mirror, but not at yourself: you watched the door in its reflection. On the handle, a blue light flashed, and you saw the door creep open. As you saw his show step in, you smiled. You screwed the cap of your moisturizer, patted your cheeks on last time and smacked your lips. When you had made your way to the door, Kaiser was already in, his back facing you, as he was taking his shoes off. “Good afternoon!”, you waited until he turned to hug him. 

“No kiss ?” He asked, smirking, lowering his face dangerously close to yours. “Mhm nope, not just now” you answered playfully as you backed off, pushing yourself away from him while holding his arms. “I’m too clean right now. The product still hasn't penetrated my face so you'll have to wait ‘til it dries”. You smiled as you looked at his lips. You could feel his gaze on your eyes. You looked up. “Such a meanie. I’ve had a long day of work, having to smile for cameras, not blinking despite the flashes, and now you won’t even help me ease up”. Kaiser jokingly whined as he pulled you closer again.

You backed off, giggling. The two of you were still tangled up in an embrace. “Just wait a bit a-” “but i don’t wanna wait.” Kaiser cut you off. Since he was walking to you, you were slowly stepping back. A step and another one, led to you finally hitting the hotel’s room bed. Taken aback, you fell on your back on the bed, letting out a little mewl. 

“See ? Break my heart and that’s what happens. I call that karma.” Kaiser looked down on you while you laughed harder. Smugly, he pinned you on the bed. His legs pushed yours down on the sheets, and his hands were tightly holding your wrists above your head. 

“I can’t have a good afternoon if it starts off with no kiss from my princess”. He dived in, bringing his face closer to you, and stole a kiss. “Your new chapstick tastes good”. Eyes closed, you smiled as you went in for a second -but not last- kiss. 

A\N: this only works if you put on chapstick after your shower\during your skin care like i do. You know, so your lips are moist when you put on lipstick ! Have a nice day~~

#blue lock #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #bluelock #michael kaiser #kaiser blue lock #kaiser x reader #kaiser #blue lock kaiser #kaiser fluff #kaiser imagine #bllk #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader

[baiboop]

Sharing my Heart

hey y’all, i ended up deleting my fic off of ao3, im going to post the chapters here under the tag sharing my heart baiboop. the tag will be at the bottom of this to click and scroll through, i should be done uploading the chapters by this monday. i only have the drafts that were in my notes so im sorry if there’s any typos! reminder that the first 3 chapters are a recap of the actual episodes leading up to adam’s possession so you can skip ahead if you need to!

Chapter 1

Darkness and a cool, damp earth surround Adam. He’s confused, he can feel the granules between his fingers and the sensation of being completely trapped. Suddenly he’s engulfed by a wave of anxiety, brought on by the constricting environment he found himself in. His body flushes with the heat of nervousness. The pressure and weight of the ground trapping Adam momentarily leaves him stunned and unable to move. He starts to make an attempt of breathing before his train of thought finally kicks in.

‘Up. I’ve got to go up.’ Adam thinks to himself.

He knows where he is. He remembers now.

Adam can feel his lungs squeezing, the burning sensation of oxygen being withheld cause his chest to instinctively heave.

Dirt is in his mouth and panic is in his mind, but still, he knows where he is.

He’s been restored life by the angels.

He is ‘The chosen one’.

He is to be Michael’s sword.

He claws his way to the top using all of his adrenaline fueled strength. It’s a painfully slow process as he moves the moist dirt out of the way, making room for his limbs and he thinks he might die again from having to hold his breath for so long.

The inability to open his eyes is heavily contributing to the deep sense of panic, this emotion is currently being subdued by the adrenaline, and the adrenaline alone.

He wonders to himself why they had to resurrect him in the ground, if the angels had enough power to bring him back to life surely they could’ve brought him back to life on top of the ground right?

With the first breach of the surface Adam can feel sunlight and cool air on his fingers and the dorsal of his hand. Adam pushes and prods at the dirt, shoving his arms farther out. The more that his body becomes free, the looser the dirt becomes.

Eventually, Adam’s head and upper body emerge topside.

The exact second his face hits the cool air Adam gasps the deepest breath, he believes, humanly possible. The largest sense of relief Adam has ever felt is now present in his mind.

Panting, Adam starts to catch his breath before he trudges himself the rest of the way out. With his arms freed and the ability to breathe restored, he pulls his lower torso and legs out of his earthy grave. He stands up, wanting to stretch his legs out now that he’s out of the claustrophobic dirt trap he was previously in. Once fully upright his vision fades and he can feel a dizzy spell over taking him. The lack of oxygen and the adrenalines slow decline, is making it impossible for him to normally function. He gently drops himself to the ground and attempts to steady his erratic, anxiety-riddled breathing by counting breaths.

Breathing in

one, two, three, four-

Holding

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven-

Breathing out

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-

Adam repeats this cycle about four times, just like his mom had him do in the past. He successfully steadies his breathing before he stops to consider everything that’s just transpired.

“Holy shit.” Adam says aloud. (Not that he necessarily thought anyone was around to hear.)

He surveys his surroundings taking in the dull grass and trees of the area. He was in a clearing, or maybe a meadow? He’s not sure. Why was he in a clearing?

Where is Zachariah?

Or Micheal? Or any angels?

He begins to look around, feeling the previous dread start to creep back in. His mind raced with all the scenarios, and the impossibility of it all.

Maybe they couldn’t find him? Maybe they changed their minds? Maybe he-

His thoughts were cut short by the soft rustling of wings and whooshing of air.

A second wave of relief fills Adam to the deepest pore.

They remembered him. He would let let Micheal in, and see his mom again. They promised.

Adam turns his body, the previous thoughts only consuming about 3 seconds between now and when the angel had first arrived.

He took a breath before putting on a smile and politely introducing himself.

“Hey, I’m Adam Milligan, are you Zachariah?”

The angel stared at him and Adam held his gaze, the angel had dark hair, beautiful blue eyes and his lips were a pale pink, formed into a permanent pout because of their wideness. The angel parted his lips, pausing a moment presumably to think-

“No.”

The angel replied in a monotone, slightly gruff voice.

Adams brows furrowed in confusion, “But-“ he started to speak however was cut off by the angels rapid approach.

The angel reached out, placing a hand on Adams shoulder. Before Adams surroundings melted around him, he noted the angel was an inch or two shorter than him, wearing a trench coat, blue tie, and white button-up.

He heard the flap of familiar wings, and his sense became assaulted by the inability to view, well anything. He shut his eyes, tight, hoping to avoid a headache and re-opened them a couple seconds later when he felt the jolt of his feet hitting wood floors.

A wave of nausea and disorientation hit him as soon as he had opened his eyes, he put his hand up clutching his forehead before turning to the angel.

“Hey man, what the hell was that?” Adam said brows still knit together tightly, with a look of vexation displayed on his face and in his posture.

Adam could feel the pins and needles in his hands and feet, he knows for the past three-ish minutes he’s been conscious he’s been running on pure adrenaline, even though it had previously started to wear off the- whatever the hell just happened- had pushed it back into overdrive.

He surveys the room, seeing four other male faces around him. His hand drops from its protective hold on his head and he starts to sway, weight shifting unevenly from foot to foot. He reaches out trying to grasp something to steady himself on but fails to lock onto any object. He hears one of the men talking to him, “Adam? Adam-“

He closes his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, trying to block out the noise to soothe the pounding of his head. He feels unbalanced, like he’s falling. Oh shit he is falling.

Adam feels large hands tightly grasping his right arm and torso before he loses consciousness.

——

Adam feels a hand on his chest, accompanied by a white hot light pulsing inside every inch of him. This snaps him straight out of his unconscious rest and he bolts straight up, gasping in deep breaths.

“Where am I?” Adam demands, still panting from the shock. His eyes dart animalistic-ly, between the three men towering over him and the one sitting behind them.

Even through his haze, and the angels vague instructions, he has pretty much gathered these are not the people he’s meant to be with.

Did he get kidnapped? He thinks to himself.

Pulling his legs in closer, he starts to alter his sitting posture. Turning it more rigid, like he’s expecting a fight.

When he moved his legs in dirt crumbled off them, he now starts noticing the feeling of dirt caked all over his body and face, and in his hair and clothes. Previously he hadn’t noticed, but now his senses were reporting in normally.

“It’s okay just relax, you’re safe.” A soothing voice retorts. It came from the tallest member of the bunch.

Adam felt angry confusion hitting him in the gut. “Why would I relax? Who the hell are you?” He says, eyes still shifting between their faces, observing their reactions.

“Well you’re gonna find this a little- a lot crazy, but we’re actually your brothers.” Says the other, shorter male, in a less soothing and huskier voice.

The shorter ones eyes dart to the taller man next to him and they exchange a pained glance before the taller of the two starts up again.

“It’s the truth, John Winchester was our father too.” He says pausing before starting again.

“See, I’m Sam-“

Adam’s face shifts into one of displeasure at the instant recognition of the name. The whole thing starts to click as he realizes these are the men the angels told him would come for him.

“Yeah and I’m sure that’s Dean.” Adam deadpans.

The whole lot of men look at each other with startled expressions.

Adam can see the questions brimming on their faces and speaks up before they can start rapid firing their inquiries.

“I know who you are.” He states matter-of-factly.

“How?” Sam returns.

“They warned me about you.” Adam says, narrowing his eyes into a judging squint.

“Who did?” Dean questions.

“The angels.” Adam answers, staring blankly at them.

When Adam doesn’t continue his train of thought, the men pause again to look at each other. Clearly they’re silently debating what to do.

Adam feels a slight annoyance in their unspoken conversations and crosses his arms.

He eyes Sam, picking his tangent back up.

“Now, where the hell is Zachariah?”

——

After a long interrogation, (Mainly from Adam about what the hell was going on.) Sam and Dean convinced Adam to stay with them for the time being.

They offered him a shower and some hand-me-downs which he accepted with reluctance. He would’ve denied but the absurd amount of dirt covering him was more than enough to convince him.

Adam sat in the shower for an unusually long period of time. He scrubbed at his scalp, still feeling the granules of dirt locked deep into his head.

He was so confused. Why him? Why now? What’s even going on? His ‘brothers’ explanations made some sense, but that still left so many missing pieces that he was having trouble with.

The hot water on his skin felt good, it was a nice juxtaposition to the cold dampness of the dirt. Adam hugs his arms to his chest letting the water hit him in the face.

He’s alive. Alive again. He died? Oh yeah he did die. He shudders at the thought of being consumed by some unknown monster wearing his mothers face.

He remembers the pain. He remembers the sadness, the confusion, all of it.

He squeezes his arm, knuckles turning white with the tightness of his grip before letting go. He lets his arms drop down to his sides and stares at the water, watching it pelt the porcelain of the tub.

Adam turns the knob and the water stops.

He steps out of the shower, drying himself with a towel.

He’s been in the bathroom for close to an hour now but thankfully no one’s come to bother him. He figured they were trying to give him his space and he was grateful for that.

Adam walks closer to the mirror, fogged with condensation from the hot shower. He wipes it off with the corner of his towel, clearing a big enough area for him to almost fully see his face and chest in the small reflective area.

His eyes follow the contours of hid body, looking up and down what he could see in the mirror, and tilting his head down to inspect what he couldn’t see in the mirror.

He had no scars. None.

None from his death, none even from his childhood.

His knee no longer has a small thin line from falling out of his grandparents apple tree and landing on a rock, his finger no longer shows any proof of him slicing it with a kitchen knife while trying, and failing, to make mother’s day dinner to surprise his mom. Nothing, his skin is completely- new.

Adam’s breathing slows a little as he catches his own eyes in the reflection. ‘Is this even my body?’ Adam thinks to himself while tracing over his skin with his hands, trying to feel the familiarity of one’s own body.

After a bit more thinking, Adam is dried off and putting on his “new” clothes.

He’ll admit he’s going to miss the likeness of his old outfit but it’s nice to get into something that isn’t damp or covered in grime.

Not to say these clothes were particularly clean, they smelled like dust and had an odd feeling to the cotton material. However it was still a massive upgrade from the condition of his last outfit.

Adam opens the door and steps out of the bathroom, walking down the hall back to the living room. He entered into the smell of mildew and old wallpaper.

Bobby, the man in the wheelchair and owner of the house, offered him a seat on the bed. It was the same bed he had woken up on after he passed out, but the sheets had been changed. There was no proof of Adams dirt-caked body having ever touched the bed.

Adam thanked him for his offer and sat down.

The bed sat in front of a four paneled glass window, each panel covered with an old yellowing lace curtain. There was news paper clippings tapped to the red-patterned wallpaper and books strewn about everywhere. Adam had been taking in his surroundings, properly, when the rest of the four came into the room.

Dean brought a chair with him and sat on it, Sam half sat on a desk in the room and the angel that they had told Adam was ‘Castiel’ opted to stand in the corner of the room, just menacingly staring at Adam.

The men in the room all stared at Adam, the human three watching patiently, until dean started-

“Okay Adam, you got to ask your questions but now we have a few of our own. We want to understand what happened here, so, why don’t you just tell us everything? Start from the beginning.”

Dean said, face open and passive, looking for answers.

Adam shifted and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Well, I was dead and in heaven- except it kinda looked like my prom. I was making out with this girl her name was Kristen McGee-“

Dean cuts him off with a, “Yeah, sounds like heaven. Did you get to third base?”

Sam shoots a disapproving glance and eye roll at dean before he clears his throat. “Just uh, just keep going.”

Adams eyes move between the brothers, feeling Sam’s annoyance in the air he drops the topic of his heaven.

“Well, these angels, they popped out of nowhere and they tell me that I’m chosen.”

“For what?” Sam says, the worry displayed on his brow becoming deeper.

“To save the world.”

“Yeah? How are you gonna do that?” Dean huffs.

“Oh, y’know, me and some archangel are gonna kill the devil.” Adam says confidently but with a shrug.

“What.. What archangel?” Dean responds, a look of confusion and worry now present on his features.

“Michael. I’m his sword or vessel or something.” Adam clarifies, throwing his hands up as he does so.

“Well that’s insane.” Dean says almost chuckling.

Adam furrows his brow at the accusation and attempts to cut in, but Castiel beats him to it.

“Not necessarily.” The dark haired angel pipes up.

“How do you mean?” Dean replies with some aggression in his tone.

“Maybe they’re moving on from you, Dean.” Blue eyes scan over Dean, face cold and vexed.

“Well, that doesn’t make sense.” Dean says raising his voice a little.

“He is John Winchesters bloodline, Sam’s brother….It’s not perfect but it’s possible.” Castiel assures.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Dean says straight faced.

“Why would they do this?” Sam chimes in eventually, after watching the conversation unfold and feeling the heat of anger between Dean and Castiel’s words.

“Maybe they’re desperate. Or maybe they wrongly assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them.” Castiel says while glaring at Dean.

Dean clearly doesn’t like the fire in the angels eyes and glares right back.

“Alright, you know what, blow me Cas.”

Dean counters, leaving the angel to furrow his brow in confusion instead of malice.

“Look. No way. After everything that’s happened?” Sam rejoins with a humorless scoff.

“All that crap about destiny and suddenly the angels have a plan B? Does that smell right to anybody??”

The three men share glances, seemingly all of different stances on the issue at hand.

Adams eyes slide over everyone in the room. He feels a certain pressure arising and anxiety tugging in his chest.

“You know, this really has been a moving family reunion but uh.. I gotta thing so.” Adam trails off standing to leave before a large hand lands on his shoulder pushing him back down.

“Woah, sit down. Just listen to me for a second.” Sam pleads.

Adam sits back down and clicks his tongue. “Unbelievable.”

“The angels are lying to you they’re full of crap.” Sam states.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“And why not?”

“Because they’re angels?” Adam says in a mocking voice, trying to convey to Sam that his argument is stupid.

“Huh, well, did the angels tell you they’re going to roast half the planet?”

“Yeah, they told me the fight might get pretty hairy, but it is the devil so we gotta stop him.”

“Yeah, but what if there’s another way?”

After this comment dean sneers at his brother and rolls his eyes.

“Great. What is it?” Adam mocks again.

“Well, we’re working on the power of love.” Dean says with blatant sarcasm, seemingly rejoining the banter.

“Yeah? How’s that going?” Adam adds.

“Mmm, not good.” Dean says, cracking a humorless smile, which earns him an angry frown from Sam.

“Look Adam, you don’t know me but I’m begging you, please trust me. Give me some time.” Sam’s look of sorrow and empathy seemed honestly genuine. This lead Adam to contemplate his answer for a moment.

“Give me one good reason.”

“Because we’re blood.”

“Because we’re-“ Adam repeats, feeling frustration bubbling up inside of him. “You got no right to say that to me.” Adam says raising his voice, feeling the lines deepen in the scowl on his face.

“You’re still John’s boy.” Bobby says gruffly, with a look of sorrow in his old eyes.

“No.” Adam rejects.

“Shut up, none of you know what you’re talking about. John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I dont have a dad. So we may be blood but we sure as hell are not family.”

Adam pauses to think for just a moment before picking back up.

“My mom is my family. And if I do my job I get to see her again. So no offense but she’s the one I give a shit about. Not you.”

“Fair enough.” Sam replies

“But if you have one good memory of dad, just one, then you’ll give us a little more time please.”

#sharing my heart baiboop #midam #adam milligan #spn #midam spn #i also wrote this a couple years ago so sorry if it’s not that good #unfortunately i’m so busy with college or else i would revamp it #but i wanted to give it a place to live forever

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

Oh my god... Micheal.... You literal little whiny asshole pussy baby fuck boi bitch... Was garnering a small and obnoxious cult following for your discount Shaggy 'I am not a Negro' Rogers and The Reluctant Weresmurf looking ass and also meeting your girlfriend through your work on that pilot not actually goddamn fucking enough for you to just move on? Your involvement with Hazbin Hotel as a project is over with and you're clearly still bitter about that. Angel Dust is not your character anymore, nor was he ever Ashley's. Your relationship with this series and interaction with it's fanbase should've been long finished by now, you should not have been consuming any new media having to do with the series proper moving forward, and you certainly shouldn't be name searching yourself, goddamn fucking monitoring the comments on new releases for this character that you even admitted yourself that you no longer have anything to contribute to (nor should you want to) screen grabbing these opinions that you no long get the right to have any opinion whatsoever on, that you shouldn't even be snooping around to see or care about (because you're no longer involved and have foregone all attachment for, allegedly) and start behaving out of nowhere as if you're a freaking reddit incel because your fangirls ostensibly gave their public opinion that was already kinda hidden in youtube comment or twitter replies or whatever, that you had absolutely no right to be looking at, of how this other man preforms better than you. Shaming these people who are most likely girls publicly, on twitter where people can see it.

"The Tweet" is still clearly visible via quote tweet and if you still felt any type of way about people constructively critiquing your performance for a character that you should nor longer have any say in or attachment to, you should've drank your baby bottle baja blast and been quiet, dummy.

Then maybe instead of publicly tweeting your feeling regarding a fandoms opinions about your [performance in a project you're no longer involved in Micheal, you should've taken a tip from Rob Paulsen and call PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GET A LIFE FOUNDATION. Or at least find another legacy voice actor who's range you could try to be a little copy cat of so maybe people wouldn't be finding your little discarded animaniac schtick so annoying.

And this is what you get for ether naming searching yourself or your old characters, and then invasively screen capping other people's shit to whine about their constructive opinions about a project your no longer involved with and thus, should no longer be having any negative effects on you at all...

Now, if you're so asexual, why did you just make this poor fan publicly suck your dick and little blue balls, man? You really think you're Jared Leto ... 30 Seconds To Micheal. The parasocial manipulation here is so creepy. Your the one who's reaching by thinking others making constant disclaimers they loved you before stating their constructive opinion was apparently "tearing you down". 'The Cult of Kovach' is so real. 💀

It wouldn't be so "hurtful" if someone stopped making their eyes moist by crying over opinions on something they stopped working on a long damn time ago and since when when is making constant disclaimers of love before stating constructive criticism "objectively ripping into another person for no reason"?! The asexual blue smurfycat proved in his absolute shitpost of a "Closer" cover that he shouldn't be playing a Sex Worker because he can't take singing about fucking seriously for shit, while Blake Roman can. Maybe because Blake has actual Sex Appeal and is objectively pretty too. Now fuck this person for making me actual reference Doug Walker's content in 2024 and while we're at it? Fuck Lackadaisy for their disgrace of even having someone who actually still works at Channel Awesome on their payroll. Among other things 💀

Again, how is making constant disclaimers about how much you love a pubic figure before stating a constructive critique "talking shit", Silva? People who work in animation are just as oversensitive and immature as their followers and Micheal was the only one here acting like a creepy little mouth breather by making his fan cult apologize to him and I don't give a fuck about actually saying that and I don't need to abbreviate it ether. 💀

The only one showing their actual face in their icon is the only acting like a goddamn fucking professional here, of course of course, but I just want to ask, like, where was all this professional energy that Ashley and Micheal should've been exhibiting in defense of Medrano, whom they have to fuck for there meet cute, once they both found out their new (and actually transphobic" employers, had rejected there old employers new studio's five thousand dollar donation? No quiet dignity or grace about anything in Furry Hell. Fuck Micheal. 💀

#Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hypocritical #hunicast critical #hunicast #micheal kovach #kovox #twitter #undescribed #Everyone involved in furry projects is so silly no one is safe and I'm so glad a certain someone hasn't done anything like this *yet* #But I'm exhausted I'm gonna go hit the shower... <3 #media comprehension #media literacy

[mpreg-official]

Jade Harley :0

my drawing program closed before I could add shading, but thats fine I like it this way anyway >:\

#homestuck #jade harley #jade homestuck #jade fanart #homestuck art #fancomic #digital art #moist micheal

[dragongirlsnout]

art for @stuffedwithmuffins

#moist micheal

[melancholykiwi]

Stupid Dream SMP Headcanons I Have

(This is all very lighthearted by the way don’t take this seriously)

Revivedbur has a Dream shrine in Techno and Philza’s basement

The whole Underscore-Beloved family smells awful

Tubbo smells like horse shit

Ranboo smells like moist soil

Micheal smells like rotting pig meat

Philza is a hardcore drug addict

Tommy picks at his scabs constantly and eats them

Fundy gets fleas often

Technos refuses to wash his cape because he’s addicted to the smell of blood so it smells awful

Sapnap never brushes his hair ever, it is a terrifying rats nest

Skeppy picks his nose under his helmet when he thinks nobody’s looking

BBH tried to make a Veggie Tales cult when Sapnap was younger

The Eggpire now watches Veggie Tales to please the egg

Karl has written A/B/O fanfiction before

Revivedbur eats dirt frequently

Techno has eaten pork chops before

Dream has been writing excessive amounts of dnf fanfiction in prison

Sapnap had a cheetah print phase where he would only wear cheetah print

Ranboo has cat boy ears that Tubbo has made him wear before on multiple occasions

George is secretly high all the time due to eating mushrooms and thinks Dream XD is a hallucination

Revivedbur is a Hamilton stan

Feel free to add more

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dream smp headcannon #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #badboyhalo #bbh #skeppy #wilbur soot #revivedbur #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #micheal dsmp #fundy #karl jacobs #Philza #technoblade #eggpire #all of this is /rp of course #my brain is not working help #also I love causing chaos online so #this is just the tip of the iceberg

[fernfiction]

I really want you to do a prompt of Micheal teaching Y/N how to touch herself while she is sitting on his lap and then lies her on bed and tell her to " touch yourself for me, show me what daddy taught you "<3 but you are shy and hesitant and it turns him on seeing you blushkskdkdkd

Hi, I love this request so much! I hope I can do it justice! I kind of merged two asks. I hope that's okay!

(smut. filth. female masturbation.)

"Wait, this will help" Michael purred as he took your delicate hand in his. He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed it gently before taking two of your fingers in his mouth. He sucked on them slowly, not taking his eyes off you. He moved your hand in between your legs and let go "This will make it easier for you.."

You'd been sat in Michaels lap for a few minutes, completely naked and exposed whilst he was still fully clothed. A shy conversation about how you didn't know how to pleasure yourself had led to Michael offering to teach you. You were willing to do anything he asked, so when he told you to undress and position yourself on his lap, you did. You were sat on him sideways, with your legs spread apart. He held one leg to give you better access to yourself.

"Where does it ache y/n?" You moved your hand to your clit. It had been aching for some friction and you were hoping this would relieve you. "Mmm yes, your perfectly shaped little bud. You know that's where the magic happens right? Touch it lightly.. Yes..just like that." Your breath hitched as the feeling of pleasure overtook you. A quiet moan left your lips as your back arched. Michael put his hand on your back to hold you in place. "Try using your fingers in a circular motion.. A bit more pressure baby." He leaned in to kiss your cheek. His lips on your face made you massage your clit harder.

Michael noticed your pussy was glistening in the candlelight. "Fuck.. You're dripping y/n. I think your pussy needs a finger or two in there. Use your other hand.. It'll feel heavenly." Your hands fumbled until you reached your entrance. You felt your arousal on your fingers, sticky and moist. You'd never been this wet before. You slowly pushed a finger in and felt your walls pulse around it. The feeling intensified as you looked into Michaels eyes. They were heavy with lust and almost black. "Fuck yourself y/n. Pump your fingers in and out but continue playing with your clit. Look at it, look at how swollen and pink it is. You're nearly there"

You hadn't realised that you'd started grinding on Michaels cock. Your pussy juices were collecting on his pants as you continued to flick your clitoris at a fast pace. "Y/n.. I think you need to get more comfortable." He stood up, carrying you in his arms and laid you down on his large bed. Your spread your legs as wide as you could and licked your lips.

"Continue y/n. I want to see you squirm in pleasure. I want to see how your sweet little fingers fit in your cunt. I want to see your hand covered in your slick. Show me what daddy taught you" Every word that left his mouth made your pussy pulse. Michael unzipped himself and sat at the foot of the bed. You saw his large hand wrap around his perfectly erect cock. "Watch me y/n. See what you're doing to me? Daddys cock is so fucking hard right now. Make yourself cum for me." His hands started pumping his length whilst you circled your clit. "Ohh daddy.. This feels..so..good..I'm gonna cum so soon"

"Mmm y/n. Release all that tension, soak yourself for me." Michaels strokes got faster as he matched your pace. You felt a strong wave of pleasure coursing through your body as you slipped a finger back in. A few more flicks to your clit and you were cumming. "Fuck.. Michael" you moaned his name as your legs shook. As you opened your eyes, you saw Michael hovering over you. "You have no idea how sexy you look when you're a moaning wet mess y/n. It made me almost cum on the spot. But I want that cunt to clench around my cock y/n. Can you do that for daddy?"

You had to catch your breath before you answered him. You couldn't believe you'd just fucked yourself in front of him. Your cheeks started to flush and you muttered "Oh God.." "You're gonna need God once I'm done y/n. My cock has never felt this heavy before. I'm going to fill you up so much, my cum will be spilling out of you for days." Before you knew it, your legs were wide open again, waiting for Michael to destroy you.

Taglist - @jimmason @angelicmichael @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @whatcodysaid @infernwetrust

#fan fiction #michael langdon x reader #outpost michael #smut

[asaltysquid]

Wow I hit 600 so uh here’s some fun unique (cursed) facts about me as a treat.

-I’m was homeschooled my entire youth in essentially a Christian cult

-At age 10 basically already believed in reality shifting and that I was secretly a demon trapped in a mortals body as punishment (turns out I was just gay and trans in an unaccepting community whoops)

-I will straight up drink pickle juice and enjoy every moment of the raw sour juice

-Nobody by Mitski and Blister in the Sun play all day and every day in my head

-My tongue is unusually long and I am capable of sticking it fully up nose

-I’m a Ted Theodore Logan kinnie

-I used to believe I had prophetic dreams turns out I’m just OCD

-The song Deep Throat sends me into fight or flight mode instantaneously

-My one carnal desire is to befriend the crows in my neighborhood and have a murder at my disposal

-I can still recite the entirety of What Does the Fox Say

-I do ironically really enjoy Supernatural

-I own a nanoipod that was given to me by the god daughter of Micheal Bay

-I am currently friends with exactly four raccoons at my local park (don’t worry I don’t feed them or anything)

-I really want a few pet slugs so I can name their enclosure “The Moist Boy Room”

-My inner mind voice sounds like Griffin McElroy

So there you go. I’ll leave it up to y’all to decide if you still want to follow me lmao.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

How about some cook Cavendish satisfying Drax with pleanty of food. digging Drax' ass out of a dumpster and showing him what actual food is, giving him pleanty to feat on~

-cursed

This sounds tender as SHIT. Let's fucking go.

Cavendish pulled the top off the pot, taking an inhale. Soup smelled good, it should be ready soon. He added more salt, before putting the top back on. It was late at night, and everyone else was asleep, but Cavendish couldn't sleep. He knew he needed it though, so he decided a nice, hot meal would soothe him. Usually Otto cooked, but he was happy to make something of his own. A nice stew, coupled with some fresh bread (that he didn't at all steal from Brownlee's food stash), he made more than enough food.

"The hell?"

He was about to heat up the bread, when he heard a commotion outside. Something was out there, digging into the box of scraps just outside.

"Fuckin' told that damn cabin boy to dump the scraps."

He grabbed a kitchen knife, and went outside. Probably some rat. Had they not been disease ridden, biting bastards, he would've ignored it. He walked slowly, knife raised, when the damn thing turned around. It wasn't a rat, it was worse. Henry Drax. He was digging into the FUCKING trash, like an animal. Cavendish sighed, as a means of both disgust, and relief. At least Drax wasn't a biter. Usually.

"Fucking hell Drax-the hell you doing out here?"

"Hungry. But I can't go back into the damn kitchen."

"You kept eatin' shit, didn't you?"

"Otto maybe a godly man, but he's a stingy fuckin' bastard."

Drax was an absolute scavenger. He'd always hang around a kitchen, stealing little bits of food, even when Otto was just trying to cook. Cavendish had seen it first hand, and until he was booted from the kitchen, it was pretty damn funny.

"Are you actually eating from there?"

"Aye. Wasteful man. Still meat on these bones, and these tomatoes are still good."

Cavendish watched as Drax dug his foul teeth into a juicy, spoiled tomato, letting the juices run down his ever messy beard. Cavendish didn't love this man in the slightest, but he'd be heartless not to feed a man digging out of old scraps.

"You're a fuckin' mutt- come on."

He smacked the tomato out of his hand, and put his hand behind his back, ushering him back into the kitchen. Drax was clearly upset about the lack of his snack, but he didn’t get a chance to bitch as he sat him down at the table. Drax looked like he wanted to get up, even, but Cavendish knew just what would make him stay. He pulled his flask from his coat pocket, placing it on the table. Drax chuckled, getting comfy in his seat.

“Know how to get me to stay, Micheal.”

He only called him that in private. When not a soul walked in between them. Cavendish waved his hand at him dismissively, He added oil to the bread, and stuffed it into the tiny oven. As glorious as the Volunteer was, Cavendish could make a complaint in regards to the kitchen’s size. He felt cramped in here, not just amongst the damn clutter in here, but with Drax just sitting there, nursing the rest of the flask (greedy bastard, thing was full when he got it to him). It was a bit much, but in a way, it was comforting. Just a slow, brief break from the bullshit at sea. No Sumner, no Brownlee, no insurance tricks, no whaling. Just the smell of a fresh pot of soup, and herbed bread. He turned off when he smelled the bread, just how his mother always did.

“You better stay here, Henry. Too much food here for my lonesome, and if Otto found out I cooked, he’d never let me back out into the ice.”

“He likes someone to talk to. As if Sumner wasn’t enough.”

“Maybe it’s redheads.”

They both chuckled. They knew Otto. the caring, protective type that favored the more feminine, soft men. Men who could pass off for the usual whore. Cavendish finished cutting the bread, adding it to the plates, and alongside the bowls of soup, brought it over to the table. Drax had that hungry look in his eyes, and it was one of the few times where it didn’t unsettle him. Drax, as usual, didn’t savor his food the way any person would. He ate the way a hungry animal would, slurping loudly, teeth tugging at the meat and lips slurping the bones clean. He went in with the spoon when he had to, but when he needed meat, he tucked in like a brute.

“Ya mam never taught you how to eat, did she?”

“Hungry. I ain’t eatin’ with royalty, afterall.”

“As if you’d change for royalty.”

Drax grinned, beads of beef broth dripping from his teeth and into his beard. He rubbed at the mess in his beard, wiping it on his coat, then continuing to feast. Cavendish was no man of status either, but he at least knew how to cherish a meal. The salt in the soup, the sweetness of the carrots, the starchiness of the potatoes, the gaminess of the meat- all which sat moist in the salty broth, seasoned by the bones. And the bread. Crunchy, yet still somewhat soft on the inside. Better than any hardtack they were given. 

“Good soup, Micheal.”

He watched as Drax’s lips curled around the soup, noisy as he drank. He’d give the man one thing; he wasn’t fussy. He picked the bones clean, even stripping it off his cartilage, and even licking the crumbs from the bread off the plate. Man was starving. He groaned to himself upon finishing. He wasn’t sated, but he was a little more tame than before. Cavendish wasn’t even done with his soup by the time Drax sat there, licking the residue off of the rim of his bowl. His tongue was greedy, appreciative of every single drop. Cavendish sighed, getting up, and offering his hand to Drax.

“Quit lickin’ the damn thing, I’ll give ya more.”

“I don’t like wastin’ any of it. You don’t know when it'll be the next time you'll eat.”

Cavendish rolled his eyes. Knowing Drax, he’d live. Man would kill and eat an animal raw, with his own teeth if he had to. He went back into the kitchen, filling up the bowl, and giving the man the last piece of the bread. He gave it back to him, and watched as Drax finally ate like a person. Well, closer to a person anyway. He didn’t dig into it like a hungry wolf, but rather, he savored it, as though it was the least meal he’d ever eat. Cavendish nodded, tucking into his bread after having it soak up some of the soup.

“Finally slowing down, though I’d watch you choke.”

“Aye, I do the choking ‘round here, lest you forget, Micheal.”

Henry shot him a wink, just as he was tearing the strips of flesh from the bone. You could always tell when Henry was eating. He slurped, he moaned, he groaned, his teeth ground against bone. It was an experience for Henry. Didn’t matter what it was. Just that there was enough for him. Henry would still enjoy himself, as if a proper whore was blowing him during his meal. It was annoying as hell to most, but not to Cavendish. All he heard was a hungry, eager man.

“Surprised you don’t eat the damn bone, Henry.”

“Don’t throw ‘em out, I’ll suck on them like hard candies.”

Probably why he hadn’t tossed them to the floor, but rather, kept them on his plate, as if he wasn’t done with it just yet. Cavendish had finished his meal quite some time ago, but he had no issues sitting there, watching and listening to Drax’s animilatistic sounds. By the time he finished, he sat back, licking his fingers over and over again. He finally looked sated, relaxed. Cavendish stood up, taking his bowl, and bringing him another. Drax looked hesitant, even as he sat there, suckling on bits of bones, but Cavendish knew Drax could never turn down a meal. He accepted it, helping himself to more of the soup. Cavendish sat down again, watching Drax gorge himself further.

“Never know when you might eat again, eh Henry?”

“Free food is free food, I’d sooner perish than waste a morsel. Especially knowing you made it for me. Almost sweet of ya.”

“Suck my prick, Henry, I just don’t want to smell trash in your breath, next we meet. You already smell like cheap booze and smoke.”

“You like that smell, they all do.”

He smirked. He didn’t notice the broth run down his arm at first, and had to take a second to run his greasy, greedy tongue up his arm. Cavendish swore he saw the dirt and grime graze off his tongue, and he was surprised that even HE didn’t flinch at the taste of himself. He finished the new bowl of soup, far less quickly than the rest of them. He did finish however, leaning back in his chair. He looked exhausted, and the sigh that escaped his mouth let Cavendish know he was about to pop. Drax reached for his belt, and unbuckled himself, letting himself free of his cloth confines. Cavendish watched as he rubbed at his hairy, plump stomach, slowly. As if he was taunting him. The damn thing was nudging the table in its size, and Cavendish swore he never saw the man so docile. So vulnerable and content with himself. Cavendish got up again, and poured the rest of the broth into the bowl. Just enough for one more. Just a little something extra to push him.

“Alright, you can finish the pot, since ya hungrier and uglier than any pest I’ve ever seen.”

Drax burped into his hand, lightly shaking his head in protest. Drax ate enough to feed a number of men, the fact that he didn’t cough it all back up was a surprise to anyone who didn’t know him. He put his hand on his belly, giving it a nice pat. Soft, hairy, and hot from the oh so big meal he just finished eating. Drax sighed, but pushed himself through it, bringing the broth to his mouth, and greedily slurping at the remains. Cavendish had to hold onto the bowl for him, nursing him like a wee babe, and oh so carefully massaging his big, bulging stomach. Drax gasped as he finished, as if he had just put his head underwater.

“Alright, I’m done now, Micheal.”

“Should be, you finished the pot.”

Cavendish took the plates and put them away (leaving it for someone else to clean, obviously), only to come back with something in his hands. Drax looked damn near dazed, before he looked at the wrapping in his hands, suspicious, as if it were a damn weapon.

“Hell is that?”

“Dessert.”

Granted, they were old, but desserts were desserts. He held onto Drax’s chin, forcing his mouth open and pushing the treat past his lips. They were simple ginger cookies he picked up before they left for shore, but they were still fairly tasty. Not that Drax noticed. His poor body ached and his stomach grumbled, begging for him to stop. Drax the vision of gluttony, greed, and lust. He stuffed the rest of the cookie in his mouth, and upon Drax FINALLY swallowing, Cavendish pressed his lips against his, slowly gracing his tongue with his own. The taste of beef, booze, and sugar, was exactly what Cavendish craved. He looked into his dazed eyes, lightly patting his cheek.

“Better not catch you digging through the trash next time, Drax. You want yourself stuffed, you come to me. Get it?”

“...Aye.”

He patted his stomach once more. He was a filthy, greasy, fat, barbaric man.

Was it any wonder he had to dive in for seconds?

#asks #not transformers #The North Water

[angelicmichael]

Imminient Annihilation Sounds so Dope, Chapter Two

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: After realizing that your stuck as Micheal for a couple more hours, you decide to do everything in your power to ruin his life.

Words: 3k+

A/N: here’s another chapter reuploaded :) please reblog or like if you enjoyed!!

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

This had to a dream or some kind of a fucked up nightmare. There’s no way that your soulmate could really be the person you hated the most in this world. But, sadly, it was reality.

Well, what the hell were you supposed to do now?

Atleast the strange decor around the room made sense now. The candles, the pentagram and the upside cross. You bet this fucker was doing a ritual. By the upside down and the pentagram, it wasn’t hard to imagine what he was doing a ritual for.

No wonder why he didn’t want you talk to you. Everything was making sense now. Your a witch and he knew that, he’s in Robichaux’s as you speak. Fuck.. he’s in Robichaux’s. He despises witches, he swore to kill them all which, includes you.

You were such a idiot, you should’ve known immeaditly as you woke up. Maybe if you went through more of his texts, or opened his laptop earlier on you could’ve known it was Micheal sooner. You couldn’t imagine what he was doing in Robichaux’s.

He could be doing anything from eavesdropping to literally committing mass genocide. If he really did kill everyone at Robichaux’s, it was likely that he could be headed back to his hotel to finish you off. Although, the ocean that the hotel had a view of did not look like it belonged anywhere near Louisiana.

Sure you haven’t seen every single beach in Louisiana but, something in you knew you were far away from your previous home and that sort of brought you comfort.

Even if Micheal killed every single witch at Robichaux’s, you knew you would be able to bring them all back. The power of bringing back the dead was the first power you discovered you had, and your most powerful one. Even though you conquered this power, simpler ones like moving objects with your mind were difficult. Because of this, you grew rather close to Misty, since she was similar to you in that regard. She’s practically your mentor.

You still felt incredibly anxious and helpless. The thought of trying to message micheal again briefly passed your mind but you knew that wouldn’t work.

You knew you couldn’t do absolutely nothing while your sisters were possibly being murdered. You knew that if you were going to go down, you were atleast going to go down with a fight. It might be childish to try to get revenge on something that maybe never happened, but you knew you would never forgive yourself if you sat back and did nothing if Micheal actually did kill all of your sisters.

So, your current plan was to absolutely ruin Micheals life the most you possibly could in a 24 hour span. Well, now it was more like a 9 hour span since it was 2 pm. You knew that if he did in fact murder all your sister witches, he would come straight for you right after.

However, if you left him with a bunch of shit to deal with it would postpone him coming to kill you - and give you time to prepare and bring everyone back from the dead.

The first thing you would do was get more information on that ‘Cooperative’ group that Micheal seemed to be a part of.

You nearly forgot that you still had the laptop open, on the tab with the email that gave away Micheals identity in the first place.

You quickly skimmed the email. It was a reminder that there was a meeting tonight for The Cooperative. You smirked. Perfect. So this is why Micheal didn’t want you to leave the hotel. He seemed awfully unprepared for this whole soulmate ideal. You think he would’ve atleast logged himself out of his laptop last night, and tried to hide some candles somewhere, and maybe clean up the damn pentagram. It was strange indeed. The email entailed that the meeting was at 6 pm. Perfect. You had plenty of time since it was only 2 pm.

You spent the couple of remaining hours completely scavenging Micheals laptop for any information you could find on The Cooperative. You found tons of documents of his exact speeches he would give at these meetings which was perfect in helping you create a rough idea of what you would say at tonight’s meeting.

You had learned, to your horror that it was the Illuminati. The literal illumanti. Worse of all, Micheal was now running and in charge of this said group. You thought being the antichrist and the son of Satan could be enough for him but apparently not.

So, what were you supposed to do, just show up to this meeting and shut it all down? Announce your resignation?

By the looks of things, the end of the world was coming soon. As in, next month soon. Even if you were to resign, whose to say they wouldn’t continue on with these plans without Micheal?

It was extremely likely that The Cooperative would still carry on with these plans but you had to try. You kept telling yourself that you had to try for the coven, for yourself, for 7 billion people and everything else that was good in the world.

You knew what you had to do. But, you would have to leave now to the meeting if you wanted to make it on time.

Micheal did not have much of a wardrobe to choose from, the little clothes he had, you found in his old beat up backpack. You managed to put together a semi decent black outfit - something he could be taken serisouly in.

You brushed your hair - or Micheals hair, down and took a minuete to stare at yourself in the mirror. Even if this guy really was the end of the world and everything good - he was gorgeous. It really was a damn shame things had to be like this. You took a deep breath and then left to your cab.

You never felt so free and happy in your entire life. Leaving the dark energy in that hotel room was so freeing in words you couldn’t even describe. Sitting in the back seat of the cab, the scenery made it obvious where you were. California, most likely somewhere near L.A. Before you knew you were a witch, you spent the majority of your time watching movies, the majority of which are filmed at beautiful California. But before you knew it, You had arrived. You made sure to make it there about 30 ealier before 6 pm so that you could have time to mentally prepare yourself and maybe even practice what you were going to say.

After nearly getting lost trying to find the right room. The room was a sleek black, dark and mostly plain execpt for the small tabletop lamps that were in front of every seat. The only furniture in the room was a long dining room table with black chairs to match. The table was huge. You had no idea how you were going to talk to all these people.

You palms were moist with sweat. You did come here pretty early. You wonder where Micheal even went before these meetings, were you just supposed to stand here while each cooperative member came in? Did he greet them?

You didn’t know much about Micheal personality wise, besides knowing that he was a hateful and spiteful bitch. Knowing this, you seriously doubt he was greeting anyone.

You left the room, which led out to a dark and narrow hallway. After wandering for about 10 minuets, you finally found a decent hiding spot to stay in until the meeting actually started. It was a small balcony that looked over the city. It was beautiful, you definitely could get used to this view.

A ‘ping!’ from your phone interrupted your thoughts and nearly made you jump out of your skin. You shook your head, you swear to god, if it was who you thought it was... Ironically, Now it was you who did not have time for this.

You opened your phone and sure enough, it was him.

‘I need to know where you are’.

So much for when he said that this would be the last time you would hear from him. Maybe he suspected that you would find out he had a meeting tonight, and that you would attend it? Bet he wasn’t suspecting that you would crash it though.

‘Tough shit’

You replied. You checked the time and you realized that if you really were going to crash this cooperative meeting, you would have to go now.

Leaving the patio, you heard another ‘ping’ from your phone but it would have to wait. You had shit to do.

You opened the door to the room that you inhabitated ealier where the cooperative meeting would take place. You quickly paced to far side of the room at the very end of the table.

The first thing you noticed was that the room was completely full, every seat was taken. And everyone.. looked exactly the same. It was the Illuminati, you don’t know what exactly what kind of dress code you were expecting but it wasn’t this. Everyone was wearing black, with jet black tinted helmets to match. To conceal their identity you assumed. Your happy you chose to go with a black outfit and not something flamboyant atleast. That would’ve been awkward. Not that Micheal really had anything flamboyant in his wardrobe anyway, everything was pretty plain.

Everyone was making casual conversation with each other and you defintly felt butterflies in your stomach. You quickly silenced your phone so that if Micheal had the nerve to keep texting you - the notifications wouldn’t distract you.

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you knew it was now or never. You cleared your throat loudly, and then began.

“Welcome, members of the cooperative’.

Everyone instantly stopped their conversation and shifted in their chairs to face you.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience but this meeting is not going to be what you might have expected”

You could hear your voice slightly shaking. You couldn’t be nervous, if these people were truly going to think it was Micheal Langdon talking, you needed to sound confident. You would have to fake it until you made it.

“Due to some unforseen circumstances, I decided that.. “

Your throat got incredibly dry so you swallowed hard and tried again. Here it goes.

“... I decided that our plans of the apocalypse and causing a nuclear winter need to be cancelled. Or atleast postponed”.

The room went into a instant uproar. People flew out of their seats, you couldn’t even make our distinct words that people were even saying since there was so many people talking at once so loudly.

“QUIET”!

You snarled. That shut everyone up quickly. The cooperative members reluctantly sank back into their seats.

“There will be no more future meetings. I don’t have time to answer questions, thank you for your time. I have to go”.

You said and started on your way out the room. Short and sweet but it certainly got the job done. When you were halfway across the room, almost to the door, one of the members flew out of their seat and cut you off.

“This is bullshit”!

From the shrill high pitched tone, you guessed it was a woman. Something in you told you that Micheal wouldn’t take being spoke to like this and would put her in her place.

However, you were exactly the opposite. You hated conflict, confrontation and violence more than anything. So instead, you let out a sheepish,

“Excuse me”

You awkwardly weaseled your way around the woman and successfully left the room. Now walking down the hallway and reaching your back pocket to grab your phone to call a cab, you felt a light hand touch your shoulder.

“What the hell, man”?!

It was a males voice. You turned around, bewildered. Two men who, by their attire, were obvisouly cooperative members stood before you. They had taken their helmets off and you had to bite your cheek to keep your self from laughing.

These two men looked like they were straight from the seventies. They both had ridiculously awful bowl hair cuts. Facial structure wise, they each looked extremely similar to one another. Almost like they could be related. The biggest difference between them was that, the one on the left that had spoken to you had brass blonde colored hair while the one on the right had dark brown hair. The most notable feature about these two men were the light white powder that left dusted around their noses. You tried your hardest not to stare too long or notice out of politeness.

You left out a deep sigh, pretending to be annoyed and fed up that you were being stopped in the hallway. Meanwhile, you were secretly hoping these men knew something personal about Micheal that they could reveal to you. No one else was in the hallway after all. Shit was most likely still going down in the conference room.

“I told you I don’t have time-“

“Bullshit you don’t have time! What the hell are we supposed to do with your Ms. Mead”?!

Ms. Mead? Why did that name sound so familiar to you? Could that possibly be Micheals strange mother figure he had? That was impossible... She died. That was the whole reason why micheal despises witches so much in the first place.

“I-My what”?

You stammered. Even though you were incredibly confused and trying to price the puzzle together, you tried your hardest not to show it. You needed to be taken seriously.

And then they started laughing. They were laughing loud.

The brown haired one leaned over and whispered (pretty loudly) to the blonde haired one,

“He’s totally tweaking out. Give him a day or two to come back to his senses”

They both started giggling together obnoxiously, and then each patted on you the back as they each walked past you.

So these men just thought you were on drugs? Oh no. This could not do. The whole point of even making Micheal attend this cooperative meeting was to cancel this whole organization. You had to make sure they were taking you seriously and to not blow this whole thing off.

This is the last chance you had to get more information on, well whatever the hell was happening. This didn’t make any sense.

The two men were far down the hall now, and were about to turn a corner that lead to the elevators. You quickly paced down the hall, nearly jogging, and then put your hand on the blonde mans shoulder, making him turn around.

“Look, I’m not on drugs. But I just need you to cancel what your doing with Mead as soon as possible. Please”.

You looked at them and tried to seem sincere as possible. You were still trying to stifle bursting out laughing since these men were nearly impossible to be taken serisouly.

“Can you just come back to Kineros with us another day and sit down to talk to us about this”?

The blonde haired one pleaded.

“No. I have to go”

You said and walked past them. As you walked away from them, you could basically feel their gaze piercing your back. However, as you were leaving you swear you heard one of them mutter under their breath,

“It’s fine, man. We can always the spare parts for another project”.

Spare parts? Even though this was strange you thought nothing of it. There was no use in taking coke heads seriosuly after all.

To avoid having to endure a elevator ride with them, you decided to take the stairs down. Micheal looked to be in good shape anyway, since you did see him shirtless ealier. Taking the stairs wouldn’t hurt.

Before you knew it, you were back in Langdon’s fancy penthouse. Turns out you were correct, he really was in a damn penthouse. You took your phone out and saw about 5 missed calls that were from none other than Micheal Langdon. You deleted all 5 notifications.

It was currently 8 pm. 4 more hours to go of this hell, but you knew you weren’t going to stay awake until midnight. You wanted to get this day over with as soon as possible.

You figure you would do a full factory reset on both his laptop and phone to cut his communication off with as many people as possible. But of course that would mean he would lose your number as well... Damn.

You walked over and found the hotel had left a complimentary note pad with a pen. You wrote your phone number down. You didn’t bother labeling it, you knew that he would know it was you that had left it.

You did hate Micheal, but some small part of you still wanted him to be able to access you and talk to you just in the rare circumstance that maybe he had changed. You felt incredibly naive and stupid hoping that he would change. You supposed it was just human nature to hope that Micheal would change so that you two could live happily ever after. So that you could live with your soulmate. That’s why you left your number, so that you wouldn’t completely be giving up on micheal. He was your soulmate after all, and even though he was probably trying to ruin your life and you were ruining his, the very least you could do was give him your number. Just in case.

Getting ready for bed seemed to be a very easy task since Micheal barely had any belongings. No pajamas, no skin care routine, just a flimsy cheap toothbrush was all you had to prep for bed.

You took off his shirt and quickly wiped his phone and laptop clean of any data or history. You decided to call it a night and sank into the fluffy white sheets, and tried to not have nightmares of what horrors Micheal made your coven face today.

#micheal langdon #micheal langdon x reader #imminient annihilation sounds so dope #my fic #ahs

[rayesketchit42]

When you befriend the King Part 2

When you befriend the king part 2. 

“Sweet.”

Oc Fic| DarkWing Duck 91’ universe.Zeke Corvo and Dave “dorky” Curant @dorky-crow 

Minor violence, Abuse mention 

A/N more on Zeke’s home life, also I roughly know how many parts this is. It’s just these two becoming frinds I have other mini series in mind for more Zeke stories. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Zeke returned home looking around the house as he entered. Seemed his father wasn’t around so he was quick to ditch his backpack and make a dash for his grandfather’s room. It had been a few months since his passing but it still felt fresh. He shut the door behind him and looked over everything. No one had even touched anything here since his grandfather passed away a month ago. It was still hard to get used to how much time Zeke spent with him. He walked over to the small table by the window of the room their last game if chess was still sitting there. Zeke looked down at the board his grandfather was in the lead on this round. Time with him was maybe the most normal Zeke’s life got at times. Zeke took a seat in the chair that was his side of the chess game. Taking a moment to look out the near by window. The home he lived in was massive  housing a good portion of the family and more. Wasn’t too odd to see the caporegimes around here from time to time either. 

Zeke heard the door crack open and turned to see the coreigiere Mac standing in the door way. He just smiled and closed the door behind him as he entered as well.

“Hm so you were in here it seems Zeke.” Mac said as he walked over to Zeke glancing down at the chessboard a moment himself. “I know we should maybe clean up in here but still seems to soon uh?”

Zeke didn’t answer as he looked back out the window. 

“So there was a phone call.” Mac started as he took a seat in the other chiar “From the school, apparently some of your classmates got into a fight.” Mac began as he looked down at the pieces of the board. “Funny how boys like to rough house isn’t it.”

Zeke nodded he knew what he was saying, basically they made sure now one knew he was the one behind it. Zeke looked over to Mac finally and let out a sigh.

“Does he know?”

The answer should have been obvious, Mac just shook his head. Luckily for Zeke his father could care less about anything Zeke did so he left it to others in the family to handle. Least Zeke still had Mac around. 

“You know you can’t be doing that right? It could come back and.”

“I’d be the one to deal with what happens yeah I know.” Zeke cut off right away then nudged one of the white pawns on the board. “I know the real reason because of the family dealings I can’t just go causing trouble in retaliation of the family. This wasn’t for the family though.”

That caught Mac’s attention. “Then why did you do it.”

Zeke thought for a moment he thought it would be funny to mess with that crying kid. Then his reason changed it was for himself but it didn’t really change his mood. Thinking about it, his mood wasn’t the same since leaving school. He felt a bit better? It was only because he beat those kids that’s right of course. 

“I don’t know just messing with them.” 

Mac didn’t seem to be convinced but he dropped it. “Well I still advise you not to do that again. Things, well are not the same anymore.” He said looking down to the board himself. 

Ever since the night his grandfather passed, everything had changed. Well almost Zeke was used to most things that still went on at home. Talk of rival gangs trying to trend in their terrority. Who fell under Corvo protection. Mentions of drug and weapon trafficking he still could recall the times he saw blood statins around the place. It was more the air in the house took a turn for the worse once his father was boss. 

“You know your grandfather always praised you for being smart, you should focus on that mind more than your fists.” Mac said as Zeke finally noticed him leaving the room. 

Zeke left not long after almost feeling like he would hear the familiar sound of his grandfather laugh. Only to sigh heavily when it never came. He turned away once shutting the door but stopped fast when seeing  someone was walking by. Watching her sawy and stumble a moment placing her hand on the door just above Zeke’s head.  A white dove, with long brown hair that was twisted up into a messy bun partly falling losse. She let out a low groan and slowly settled her eyes on Zeke and gave him a slight smile. 

“OH Zeke!” she slurred out a bit and placed a finger in front of her beak as she went to speak again. “Shhh don’t be so loud son.”

“Yes mom.” Zeke said then moved away from the door to put distance between them. Her breath reeked of the bottles she had been downing. 

“Hm zeke where’s your grandfather? I can’t find him today?” She asked as she opened the bedroom door. 

Zeke pulled it back shut and patted her shoulder, regretting it since it meant taking in more of that piled on the smell of alcohol. She turned to look down at him again, her expression different now.

“Oh that’s right.” She slowly stepped away from the door and started to walk back down the hall dropping her bottle as it rolled down the stairs. Zeke only sighing when he heard the glass shatter. 

—–

Zeke was at the bottom of the stairs picking up the glass when the front door opened. A large Dracula parrot like him followed by one younger one and a male dove. Zeke’s father and brothers. His father made his way over to him and looked at the glass.

“That woman I swear, she couldn’t handle getting into all this and now she just drinks away her days.” he then made his way up the stairs.

“Least Zekes making himself usual cleaning up after mom."  The Dove, Gene said

"About time really the worthless runt.” Micheal, the dracula parrot 

Zeke rolled his eyes and stood up with the glass placed on a cloth in his hands. Compared to his brothers Zeke was much smaller in build and height. Having to look up at both of them when they spoke and it irritated him every time. 

“I’m right here.” Zeke said 

“Oh so you are.” The eldest of his brothers Micheal, said with a smug smile across his beak. “Unfortunately that is of course.”

Zeke just glared at Micheal as his other brother Gene laughed behind him. Zeke turned away best to ignore them. He knew how this would go they would just continue on about being better and father’s favored sons where Zeke might as well not be considered as even one of his kids anymore. Giving no response as he started to walk away, which seemed to get to Micheal even more as his smile dropped. 

“ Oh too good to react to my comment Zeke? Being an upstanding man like that fart bag would call you.” Micheal said 

Zeke stopped cold in his tracks. 

“Not sure why he had you hang around him so much least father’s eyesight is clearly better. Old man’s mind must have been going. Least he is finally doing something goof for the family being dead now.” Micheal chuckled a moment. But got more annoyed when Zeke still kept his eyes away from him, Micheal grabbed Zeke by the shoulder and forced him to turn so he had no choice but to look at him. Zeke was smiling when Micheal finally got a look at his face. 

“What the hell you smiling for you reject.” Gene asked for Micheal

“Oh just of how funny the look on Micheal’s face would be” Zeke answered

“What?” Micheal asked “You trying to make a threat? Better be ready to pull through with it”

Zeke smiled even more “Alright lets see how smart your mouth is after this.” Zeke was quick to grabbed onto Micheal’s collar to hold him as he slammed the glass shards right into his face. 

Micheal reeled back thriving in pain as the glass dug into his feathers pieces lodge into his cheek and near his left eye. He took a moment to let the pain settle in as he glared at Zeke.

“Oh your in for it now.”   

Zeke sat outside the school building the next day with a hand over his eye. It was still sore, when he looked in the mirror earlier it was clear he had gotten hit. Thanks to Micheal. Slightly holding on to his side with his free arm from when he fell over and got kicked in the side by Gene. The three of three in a pile as Zeke would try to block hits from one as the other took a chance to get him. Quick to end once his father came back. Zeke damaning poor precious Micheal’s face was definitely the one who had to deal with the full blame. His father was quick to rush off with Micheal and the following morning Mac made sure Zeke got out of the house early. 

Zeke leaned back against the brick wall and just laughed to himself. He knew he would pay for it later but it was just too satisfying to the parrot. That scream of pain and the flash of fear in Micheal’s eyes.

“Oh you’re in a good mood uh?”

Zeke turned to find that black bird from yesterday and suddenly remembered, he said he would meet up with him. Part of Zeke must have kept that in mind or maybe he just forgot all together and it just happened to work out that he went to their meeting place. The black bird seemed to pause a moment once seeing Zeke’s black eye. Zeke just turned away figuring the kid may take off now, which would likely be best.  And yet, the idiot just took a seat next to him and started to dig something out of his bag. 

“I took your suggestion as maybe you liked lemon flavor so I tried out the whole zesting thing. You know where they use the peels to add flavor?” 

Zeke looked at him confused 

“Oh well it just makes the taste better basically well I tried that and um I hope you like it.” The bird said as he handed over a piece of iced lemon bread, sealed in a plastic baggy. 

Zeke took it when seeing the writing on the bag so he could see what it said. It read, ‘thank you Zeke.’ So he knew him? Zeke wondered quietly taking note the black bird was staring at him still so he opened up the bag and reached for the bread. It smelled heavily of lemon but seemed pretty moist. Zeke took a small bite to taste it.

“Sweet.”

“It’s not too sweet right?” 

Zeke just shook his head and continued to eat it, the black bird smile growing with each bite he watched. Then happily settled into his spot next to Zeke and he closed his bag back up. Still going on about how he made the bread and all.  Zeke just stared at him for a bit. This kid was a dork.

“Hey is your name really Dorky?”

“What no” the little bird just laughed a moment “It’s a nickname from my parents. One of the other kids heard them call me it and well.” he trailed off for a moment.

“So what is your name then?” since he knew Zeke’s just seemed fair.

“Oh Dave!” he answered happily.

“Well Dave, could you be quiet for a bit well I sleep.” Zeke quickly answered with as if that was his reason to ask, he finished the bread and leaned back against the wall as Dave happily stayed nearby. It was sweet, the bread he meant still on his mind as he closed his eyes before it was time for the bell to ring. 

#oc fic #writing experience #zeke corvo #Dave dorky curant #when you befriend the king #A quick update not sure how often that will be!

[pirategf]

Was anyone going to tell me Micheal Sheen is in Alice in wonderland or was I just going to find that out myself

apparently he voices the white rabbit and keeps saying he was cast because of his moist nose

#Anonymous

[bewaretheundead91]

The Devil’s Son Part 5: Sleep Awake

Parts 1-4

Summary: Leo is a fallen angel, but does not remember anything that has lead her up to being held captive by Michael Langdon. Michael is intrigued by the angel. Michael wakes one night to find his body is changed and his bed chamber door is open. Curious he leaves his room to check on Leo. 

Michael Langdon X OC (Vague description for easy self insert)

A/N: So there is a chance I might be editing this story again to be a (y/n) fic, that will just take some time. This update will need to be edited again, but it’s been on my comp not posted for a while so I hope at least some people enjoy reading it. At this point I know where this story is going to go, I’m just writing it to explore a few fantasies lmao (just being honest). If it’s confusing I apologize. I’m also sick atm. Please don’t take any of this too seriously as well.

Warnings: Not really any other than sexually suggestive language and mentioning of blood.

Michael jumps up in bed, flinging his silk sheets to the end of his bed. A layer of sweat coats his body that in turn makes his hair stick to his bare shoulders and back. His places a hand over his chest, heart is racing, making his body pulsate. He leans forward catching his giving himself time to catch his breath.

With growing confusion, he throws the rest off his covers off and stands up, allowing his bare feet to meet the cold hard service of the old wooden floor. His skin was on fire and he was experiencing hot flashes, even though he only wore low hanging, silk pants. 

Michael Snaps his fingers and several candles light, illuminating his large bed chamber. Briefly he catches a glimpse of his appearance across the room and furrows his brows. He slowly approaches the oval, ornate mirror that hangs on the near by way and throughly, gazes at his reflection. His skin was alive with blotches of  flush and his lips were red, plump, and moist. He squints his eyes, noticing how dark they were, as if he was in contact with his father. His fingers meet the ends of his hair, which is damp with with perspiration.

“Hmmm,” He hums as he presses his fingers to the sharp line of his jaw. He winces at how irritatingly, sensitive the surface of his skin was. He then runs the pads up his chin and over his lips feeling the fullness of them. “Curious.”

He is interrupted by a soft circulation of air that flows over his sweat dripping, back that cause Goosebumps crawl down his spine. Michael turns around to see the door to his bed chamber was open. He swipes his hand across the air and the door opens wider exposing only darkness from the hallway.

“Hmmm,” He thinks to himself and walks to the door frame. The vivid dream he had of Leo flows through his mind like a whisper. Flashing images of blood in his memory, her bare soft skin against his, the heat, and lastly the ritual. “Was it a dream? Or was someone in my room last night? I should go check on our guest.”

Before he walks out of the room he waves his hands and a matching, silk robe flies into his hand. He pulls it over his long, slender arms and leaves it untied and walks out and down the dark hallway. It was early morning, around 4 am and no one would be up at that hour. He walks until he stops at Leo’s door. It too was slightly ajar. He could hear her tossing and turning beneath her covers with loud rapid breaths. His head begins to pound and a new ache forms in his temples.

He opens her door with a swipe of his hand. The fire was out again, that left him with more confusion, because of the spells he had casted to keep it blazing. He snaps his fingers and the room illuminates, catching the logs on fire. He welcomes the heat against his bare skin. The fire also gives Michael enough light to see the state of the girl. 

The girl is struggling in her sleep and Michael watches. She lets out quiet sobs that makes him rush over not sure of what he should do and question why he wants to rush over to her in the first place. Part of him wants her to suffer and the other part wants to relieve her of what was causing her pain. But he knew what it was. Him.

“I didn’t choose it,” Leo says softly through parted lips. “I didn’t.”

Michael stops in his tracks, full of shock by what Leo was saying. His head pounds again and sweat drips down his temple.

“No.” Leo whispers. “Michael I didn’t choose this.”

“What is happening to me?” Michael asks aloud steadying himself, by placing a hand on the girl’s bed. He looks up at the tall ceiling and take a deep breath in. “Father? Are you here? Did you do something?”

Silence. There was no response.

Micheal lowers his head and looms over the bed unmade bed attentively. He watches Leo turn onto her side with her slender fingers squeezing at the comforter that covers her. She flips onto her back and the struggles comes to a quick halt. Michael watches as her breath slows and the furrowing of her brows disappear and he takes in a deep breath feeling his own body relax. Still leaning over her he sees tears pool in the inner corners of her eyes and stream down her face.

“Angel,” Michael speaks sternly, breaking the short silence. He knew their interaction would be inappropriate, by the standards he has made.“Wake up.”

Leo did not wake up or move. Michael extends a hand and pulls the covers from her slowly heaving chest. Beneath her covers, sweat drenches the dress clinging to her frame is almost translucent allowing the flushed skin to show beneath it. Michael timidly extends his hand and removes the sweat dampened hair from her right temple and cheek. He then presses the back of his hand against her forehead, her skin was on fire even in comparison to his own.

“Leo,” He cooed down at her tenderly. His voice so soft, so gentle, that he himself felt it in his gut. “Leo, Angel, wake up.”

A sigh or relaxation escapes from Leo’s slightly parted lips and Michael’s heart skips a beat.

“Leo,” He leans down toward an ear and whispers. “My fallen angel, wake up.”

Leo’s Pov

Leo bolts upwards in bed, cold sweat soaks the dress on her body and the sheets around her. Heaving, she looks up to see the familiar outline of Michael’s slender frame and long hair. She kicks her covers off her legs and jumps out of bed wrapping her arms around her chest. She feels bare. The very sound that broke her from a deep sleep was his soothing voice. Michael cocks his head and goose bumps speckle all over her skin when she meets his strong gaze. 

Her throat feels dry and she needs water. Leo’s eyes fall lower, noticing not just his lack of clothes, but the lack of tailored, form fitting clothes he so routinely wore. Instead, on his body were loose fitted, silk like pants that were hanging low on his hips and an untied matching robe.

“What are you doing here?” She weakly asks, her eyes taking a glance as his exposed skin, that appears to glow against the fire. His garments gave it away that it is night, along with the disheveled hair that was usually brushed neatly. She furrows her brows into a sharp frown. “It must be late. Even late for demons and devils.”

“I awoke to my door open,” He says clasping his hands around his back, in turn opening his robe even further. “ It made me curious. You know you are not permitted to leave your bed chamber. But I guess I also did not state the regulations with my own bed chamber.”

“I..” Leo whispers brings a hand to her head. She was feeling hazy with something familiar. There was a scent of clove in the room. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?” Michael takes a step closer towards her. She can smell his sweat, familiar scent of rich deep clove, and feel the heat that is radiating off his skin. “Your door was open when I arrived at your bed chamber, but I oddly found you here asleep.”

“I’m not sure if it was real?” Leo glances at her door. It was still open. She immediately take a step toward it. Michael waves a hand in the air and the door closes. Leo looks downs feeling confusion wrap itself around her. “I remember candles and a dark hallway…but I..”

“A dream perhaps? Did you dream it?” He asks as he extends a hand to her chin and she hisses at how sensitive she was to his touch. He gently lifts her face up towards him and smirks. She can feel his gaze looking at every inch of her face. His eyes fall to her lips. “Was it a dream or did it really happen?”

“I’m not sure,” Leo says. “Whatever it was, it felt real, I saw you. I saw blood everywhere and you.”

“Your skin is quite hot to the touch,” Michael says, he boldly runs his thumb over her lower lip and she shivers. “Your face is flushed and lips look plump. Body covered in sweat.”

She examines Michael’s body to see he, himself was disheveled and his skin was glistening with sweat. His face appeared more human than statue.  

“You are as well.” She extends a hand boldly and touches his face. She trails her fingers over his cheekbones and down to his jaw fluidly against the sweat on his skin. His eyes close and lips part. She lowers her fingers to his neck, tracing a bead of sweat. She can feel his heart beating through his skin. “How…” 

“Your fingers,” Michael says, his vocal cords vibrating against her finger tips. “Are they burning? Is the flesh melting off?”

“You’re burning up, devil,” Leo snarls the last word and starts to drop her hand. Michael grabs her wrist keeping it there. “But your body more than likely welcomes it.”

“Oh I feel..” He parts his lips even more and lets out a low moan that made Leo’s stomach flip. His eyes roll and his tongue slowly trails along his bottom lip. “I feel hazy and hot with a new sense of pleasure. I’m exquisitely feverish. But you must know what I’m feeling.”

Leo’s fingers wrap her around his throat and his lips part again with a slight smirk. His eyes widen in amusement.

“Would you like to choke me harder?” He says in a mocking tone.   

“You’re sick.” Leo spits digging her nails into his skin and he lets out a gasp.

“Don’t knock it until you try it, my fallen Angel.” 

“You actually held me by my throat not too long ago.” Leo recounts on.

“Would you like me to choke you again?” He asks innocently.

“What is wrong with you, this fever must be making you sick,” Leo spits. She shakes her head. “I’m burning up and my head is unclear and my body feels…There was so much blood and this symbol and I was…”

“Not wearing any clothes?” He lifts a brow.

“You sliced at my skin with a dagger. And your hands were all over me,” Her body flashes hot and her legs began to throb. “And I remember things. You wanted me to meet your father.”

“We did,” Michael says joyfully, facing lighting up. He takes a step forward, leaving but a foot between Leo and him. “We dreamt the same dream. How marvelous. Just how I used to dream about you.”

“Was it a dream, devil?” Leo asks tightening her grip on his throat again. Michael rolls his eyes, finding it deliciously amusing. “Did my blood mix with yours? Did I meet your father?”

“You can call me by my name, Leo,” Micheal places an emphasis on her name. His voice made her body vibrate and her stomach flutter. “It did feel real, how smooth your skin was and how delicate it was against my hands. But I can assure you, it was not real.”

“How can you assure me on that?” Leo shouts.

“I can just tell, you know I have abilities. I have the ability to tell.”

Leo shoves Michael to his knees easily, almost falling over on top of him. She releases her hold around his neck and stands up straight. He runs his fingers over his neck, then slowly trails them down his chest, and all the way down towards his knees.

“Why aren’t you standing your ground or defending yourself against me?” Leo was shocked. Maybe she should make a run for it.

“Do you want me to?” He asks gazing up at her with heavy lidded eyes. He licks his lips and his eyes trail up her bare legs to her heaving chest. “Do you want me to hurt you, my fallen angel? I can, if you desire. Do you want me to do something else for you? Relieve something. Perhaps the ache between your thighs.”

“I’m not yours and I’m not fallen…and I do not…” Leo words were loud and quickly transition into a whisper. “There is no ache between my legs for you.”

“But we shared blood, symbolically,” Michael chuckles, the same boyish expression curves across his face. “You are mine and I am yours.We are linked, two sides of the same coin remember? I am the only one who can sooth your irritated skin and you’re the only one that can sooth mine. And I’m the only one who can relieve that feeling between you legs.” 

“It was a dream. It was. It didn’t happen. There was no blood shared. I’m sure of it. There is nothing to be relieved except for me to leave this place!”

“It was a dream,” Michael says rolling his eyes and stands up fluidly. “I get such raging pleasure fooling with you, my fallen Angel.”

“You despicable, horrid, disgusting…”

Leo brings her hand across his smooth face in an abrupt slap. He doesn’t retaliate and she brings her hand back up to slap him again. Michael snatches Leo’s wrists and she feels her body spin around. Michael snakes an arm up and laces his fingers around her throat delicately. Nexts she is being pressed, firmly against his bare chest. His skin upon her sensitive skin made her shiver and dare she think it remedied how painful it was feeling. She relaxes. 

“I’m letting you handle me like this. Does that do anything for you? Please play with me. But let me warn you, I tend to get a bit rough,” He whispers in her ears. “Do you want me to hurt you?”

“I don’t want to be harmed,” Leo leans her head back and Michael tightens his grip on neck. “I want you to let me go, I want out of this confined space. I don’t want to play with you.”

“That saddens me,” Leo can hear him pout. “I’ve been so bored here.”

“If you’re so bored perhaps you shouldn’t have caused the apocalypse.”

“The world needed to be reshaped in my image.”

“The image of death?” Leo asked.

“You think you’re so clever don’t you?” Michael asks Leo. “So bold to ask me these questions. And I don’t sense any fear coming you either.”

“I’m not afraid of you anymore.” Leo says. “I shouldn’t be.”

“Then perhaps you’d partake in the blood ritual for real?” Michael chuckled. 

“No!”

“Then I suggest you go back to bed and forget that this little interaction ever occurred.” Michael’s demeanor changes instantly. He goes cold and reserved again and his fingers around Leo’s throat tightens. She gasps for air. “And do not leave this room.”

“You’re…” Leo breaths and struggles against his holds. His touch was no longer soothing her skin. “You’re hurting me.”

“Good.”

“Michael,” Leo wheezes feeling herself about to go limp. “Please.”

Michael quickly drops his hands from Leo’s throat and takes a step back from her. Leo falls to her knees onto the wood floor with a thud, coughing. She grabs her neck and appears up at Michael who was frozen in place. He places a hand over his mouth and Leo could see tears accumulating in the corner of his eyes. The tears pool over and run down the sides of his cheeks.

“Are those tears?” Leo asks confused. 

“I…” Michael says taking a step back. He quickly walks over to the door and leaves the room. And Leo hears the door click locking.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #Michael Langdon fic

[mpreg-official]

this is stupid

#memes #meme redraw #homestuck #dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #art #meme art #moist micheal #this is stupid #like #really stupid