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plaguerat44 · 7 months
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Love your fnaf fanarts sooo much literally sobbing every time you post something, please keep it up!! EVERY CHARACTER IN YOUR STYLE GAHHH I WANNA HUG THEM ANDD SQUEEZZZE and Foxy is so smoll IM CRYING💔💔💔
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The gif- IM DEAD, thank you!!💖 I'm happy you enjoy them and please don't cry hahaha
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Also here are some of the request that I manage to make and don't worry, there more to come. I having a blast drawing them, so thanks again for the request and your patience :D!💖
@britneyt @rainstops @fyrerainy @jar-of-jellfish @sonnysblog @jkomaliondog and anonymous
(you guys don't mind me tagging you right?)
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plaguerat44 · 8 months
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run william run for fragmented
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plaguerat44 · 8 months
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This map is the most up to date version as of 3-4-2023 and takes into account all recent movement on anti-trans legislation
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plaguerat44 · 8 months
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plaguerat44 · 8 months
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the kind of man to eat plastic forks
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plaguerat44 · 8 months
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"you
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&
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me,
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forever
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&
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ever!
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love,
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freddy"
(rbs appreciated <3)
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plaguerat44 · 9 months
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collecting these types of images like pokemon cards
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plaguerat44 · 9 months
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Aw gee I wonder why every other human mechanic ended up dead after working in the pizzaplex
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plaguerat44 · 9 months
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couple of hims!
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plaguerat44 · 9 months
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Hiii your nsfw headcanons for FNAF SB was INTENSE. IT WAS SOMETHING I WASNT READY FOR LMAO
So i was wondering can you do nsfw headcanons for Sun/Moon too?
HOLY SHIT! My first ask on this account- I LOVE receiving asks on anything and everything- from comments to requests! As for your ask- of course love <3
NSFW SUN/MOON HEADCANONS
MINORS DNI
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did i kinda snap with this one?? y’all let me know :))
CW: OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, SOMNOPHILIA, MILD EXHIBITIONISM, CHOKING
SUN
FUCKING BRACE YOURSELF!
oh no. oh nonononono. if he’s set his eyes on you you’re kind of in trouble because he-
he fucks like a rabbit. he’s the type to practically crawl on top of his partner and beg to fuck them.
as for his sex style? fast. i don’t think he knows how to take it slow.
he will rut his partner into the goddamn floor, breathing heavy and endless thank-you’s spilling out of his mouth
he’s absolutely insane over it. he’d be drooling if he could.
he’s the type who can’t keep his hands off his partner. if you came to visit him and y’all were alone he’s immediately snaking his hands down your hips and pressing his erection into your ass.
he can’t give head cuz he doesn’t have a tONGUE but you best believe that if he could he’d be down like a damn dog about it.
i’m thinking about them long ass fingers YEOOOUCH
if his partner worked overnight at the pizzaplex and needed to take a shower his spidey senses would fucking go off
you’d turn around and his fingers would be curled around the door opening like
“Can I come in? Please say yes. I’ll leave you alone if you want but please please if you’re okay please let me in please. Please.”
he can’t help himself. Pussy/Bussy drunk ass motherfucker.
FASCINATED by fingering his partners. He loves watching them slide in and out with a PASSION. If they left a mess on them he’d nearly die and go to heaven. I swear to god.
let’s be so fucking fr I know for a fact he’d like to be called a Good boy. It’d kill him.
worships the ground you walk on. Fucks like he’s trying to win the gold medal of making you feel good. Please tell him you did.
he can go forever. He doesn’t seem to get satisfied at all. If it was up to him he’d fuck until he straight up absolutely had to get charged.
literally he’ll fuck until his partner either taps out or (consensually ofc)
YEAH HE WHIMPERS. WHAT ABOUT IT.
call him out on it and it gets worse. he’ll tell you that he can’t help it- he can’t.
it’s a orange to yellow gradient with a flushed pink-orange tip. long and skinny. i was solid on this before and i’m solid on it now.
for those who are wondering NO i don’t think any of the animatronics have metal genitalia. think dildo/fleshlight material that gets warm.
he definitely jerks off into some of your clothes if you left them there for him. if you caught him he would be embarrassed but ALSO- if you want him to keep going he’s willing.
more than willing, even.
MOON
ALSO BRACE YOURSELF.
if sun fucks like a rabid animal who can’t keep his mouth shut, moon fucks hard and mostly silently. it’s almost spooky.
he likes to watch. he likes to observe.
he’d fuck his partner from behind with a hand over their mouth, hard and medium paced. but fuck it’s hard.
silently watching his partner’s eyes roll back, hissing through his teeth at the feeling of them clenching down- only one or two words ever coming out.
“Slut.”
“Good.”
you get the picture.
WITH prior consent (everything, and I mean EVERYTHING I write includes consent) he’d watch you sleep.
and jerk off over your sleeping body.
he won’t leave a mess, don’t worry.
…unless you’d like that.
if he knew you wanted it, he’d push a finger slowly in while you slept and work it in and out, careful to keep you slumbering
if you woke up, he’d hush you and tell you to go back to sleep.
he won’t stop though.
both of them are jealous creatures. but moon especially so. if something makes him jealous then it’s absolute brutal thrusts down into his partner with their legs up around his shoulder. maybe choking them out.
don’t worry though. he knows his strength.
he’s 100% the type to silently overstimulate his partner. you could be begging and sobbing and covered in your own fluids and he wouldn’t stop unless you safeworded.
dick is pale blue to white gradient with a pink flushed tip
he doesn’t even make much of a sound when he cums. he just hisses through his teeth.
ooooh if he feels like you like sun more? oh no. oh no you’re done for. he’s gonna prove why he’s the best. it’s gonna be a problem.
a problem you enjoy but STILL
remember: he’s always watching.
always.
I HOPE YALL ENJOYED! please comment, reblog w comments, and request!!! it really motivates me <3
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plaguerat44 · 9 months
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A Night To Dismember
Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader
TW: Detailed Gore, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Sexual Assault [Not by Michael], Slightly Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Mature Audience only!
A/N: Requested by my bestie @prettywhenibleed! I really hope you enjoy this and it was an absolute pleasure to write this for you!! Love you, my favorite slasher whore! ❤️ This isn't my best work, I'm afraid, forgive me.
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The Smith's Grove Sanitarium operated according to a schedule that was consistently set in motion without interruption. No authorized doctor employed by the sanitarium, however, would have foreseen this. Medical specialists thought they were completely familiar with Michael Myers' behavior. He was docile and kept to himself, despite being the most dangerous and threatening patient in the hospital. 
But if you left him alone, there was a chance he would treat you in a similar fashion. The sole exception would be if touching his masks or otherwise bothered him. Even being among other patients was something he never enjoyed.
You were a new patient, recently exiled from society and your family because of your dreadful infatuation with fire and burning objects of interest. Your arrival left the building in absolute shock. On your first day, you were assigned to the recreation room. When you entered the room, your initial instinct was to walk over to the largest and most dangerous man within the sanatorium while grinning brightly. You only watched him work on a paper mache mask while standing over his hunched figure in the corner of the room, his hospital-approved supplies scattered along the table. 
You thought the colors were stunning, which you happily expressed. 
As a precaution against Michael harming you, guards stood by the recreation room's entrance wielding batons. Michael, on the other hand, did the exact opposite, giving you a cursory glance before grunting and slackly pointing for you to sit next to him. 
It was like you and Michael had your own timetable inside the sanitarium, and this went on for the next few months without fail. As directed by his psychiatrist, Michael was permitted to create his masks in the recreation area in the mornings. You would follow not far behind and take your normal seat beside him at a table chosen at random, apart from the other patients. You would merely watch him create his masks and ramble about whatever was on your mind. Michael never responded to the conversation, but that didn't stop you from talking to him because he had his own style of doing so without words. You have grown accustomed to deciphering his thoughts from his basic grunts and gestures.
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"Hey, Mikey." You said with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot next to Michael's side, placing your tray of food onto the table.
Michael was in the middle of placing wet paper mache on the face mold for his mask, his fingers caked in colors of paint and residue from the paper mache. He paused for a moment, giving you a small grunt as acknowledgement before returning to his activity.
You smiled more, chuckling at his usual ways of communicating as you watched him craft. You've always been interested in his masks and the variety of patterns he would use for each one. Many of his masks had their own unique qualities. However, you knew to only look, not touch.
"I see you're adding bright colors this time; are those happy pills finally working?" You teased him, nudging him softly with your body.
Michael huffed through his nose, which you learned was his way of chuckling as he shook his head at you. In the past, It took a while, but you had a better understanding of Michael's gestures and emotions than the doctors.
Simply because you treated him like a person, not an experiment.
"Maybe next time then." You replied, turning towards your tray before glancing at his project once more. "You're really good at that, Mikey. You're really talented."
Once again, Michael paused his movements, his stained fingers holding the paper mache while his eyes remained downcast. His fingers twitched before he resumed, and you almost thought you said something wrong.
"I didn't mean-"
You were cut off as Michael grabbed another mold from the table, pushing it in your direction. Your eyes widened slightly as you pushed your tray out of the way as Michael's slow movements brought other materials in your direction.
Still in slight awe, you watched him turn towards you, and your eyes connected through his favorite orange mask. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes stared into your own, seemingly piercing into your own soul.
The doctors were wrong; his eyes weren't soulless, nor were they black, resembling a massive void of nothingness. They were blue, similar to a clear sky or the glimmering waves of the ocean.
He huffed before pointing a finger at the materials and then towards you. He wanted you to mold with him.
"Thank you, Mikey." You said softly, a bright smile on your face.
When your eyes met Michael's, he was unable to comprehend the sensation in his chest. Usually, when his sight fell on their figures, individuals would tremble or turn away. He wasn't concerned by their fear of the facility's most dangerous patient. He actually benefited from the fear he instilled in the hearts of many who came to the sanitarium.
Yet you didn't...and he liked that.
He liked that you weren't scared of him, speaking to him, or even touching him like you've been these past few months. The thought of you being scared of him made him feel...hollow.
When you started working on your own mask using the materials that were laid out on the table, Michael couldn't help but covertly place a palm on his chest to feel how his heart was refusing to settle down. He almost wanted to groan in annoyance, hating the way he liked being around you and having your attention.
He had been content with his solitude for a long time, He preferred being alone and had been for many years. However, the notion of you leaving him made the murderous itch inside him threaten to resurface.
He decided that he would keep you with him, protect you with everything he has, and extinguish anyone who threatened to ruin that. With darkened eyes, he returned to working on his mask.
On that day, you and Michael became closer.
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You weren't born yesterday and you certainly weren't born stupid. Trouble was afoot in the institution and it was either happening under the doctors' noses or they simply didn't care enough to investigate. Over the past week, you would hear feminine screams down the hallway in the women's section of the institution during the late hours of the night. Last night, the screams could be heard two doors down from your room.
The screams and cries began when a new guard was appointed to the institution, supposedly replacing a well-known guard who was at the age of retirement. Due to your paranoia, you would sit on the edge of your bed, watching the door in the chance of someone entering your room when they weren't supposed to.
During the days, you would spend all you could with Michael, hoping that your association with him would make you seem off limits to mess with, or you hoped. Yet, Michael couldn't protect you when the sun went down and the men and women would return to their respective cells on opposite sides of the institution.
Tonight, you were following the same routine, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching the door. Your mind was in shambles, trying to come up with a plan in that chance, that horrid chance of the new guard coming for you. You hoped it wasn't what you were thinking, and for once, you prayed.
God never heard your prayers, and he certainly didn't now, especially when the jingling of keys were heading down the hallway, towards your room.
Michael couldn't sleep and when he couldn't sleep, he would simply pass the time by creating more masks or painting designs onto them. He was sitting at his desk, the surface covered in paper mache, markers, paint, and crayons. He was in the middle of adding a touch of red when he heard the distant sound of screaming.
His annoyance was disguised under his mask as he sighed and tightened his grip on the crayon in his hand to the point that it almost broke in half. He puffed again at the commotion and went on, indifferent to the screams. Perhaps a patient was making a scene during the nightly check-ins.
In order to block out the noises, Michael withdrew within the walls of his mind. It was a way that allowed Michael to escape freely from the confinement of his cell. He would always imagine a life outside the institution, with you. He would imagine the way he would protect you and provide for you. The thought used to sicken himn, but now he enjoyed it, the possibility. The sound of keys jingling, seemingly opening his cage, caused him to pause, though. With a loud crash, the cell door swung open, and shouting could now be heard outside of his room.
"Want some, freak?" The guard asked him in an mocking manner while Michael remained at his desk, his back to the guard. Michael immediately understood what the guard was pulling when he heard the feminine screams and intended to ignore it. 
He continued to ignore his surroundings, ignoring the rage building within his chest. The sound of his bed creaking didn't deter him from continuing on with his activity. However, it all changed when the victim screamed one word.
"Michael!"
You.
Your trapped figure on his bed, with your nightgown pushed up so that only your thighs were visible, caught Michael's attention as his head whirled around. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and struggled. His eyes quickly shifted to the guard hovering over you, and he developed tunnel vision instinctively.
A ferocious roar erupts from Michael's mouth and takes hold of the guard by the neck and collar of his shirt, throwing him off balance. In the midst, you shakily brought yourself to a sitting position, fixing the bottom of your nightgown to cover yourself. Your eyes watched as Michael picked up the guard, pinning him to the wall with eerie silence. The man in his grasp was yelling in pain and fear as Michael kept him pinned, his legs dangling in the air.
"L-Let go! Let go, you fucking punk!" The guard cried out.
Michael did not like that, not at all. Without a second thought, Michael hurled him into his desk, his art supplies falling to the ground in a cluster of clangs while the man groaned in pain. Like a predator stalking his prey, Michael's towering form stalked over to the smaller male, his eyes black as night and void of any life or mercy within. His large hand reached out to grab the same red colored pencil,
Michael's next action seemed to be a blur, he body launching onto the guard and stabbing him with the colored pencil, his resiliant strength making the pencil tear through flesh and muscle.
You watched in a sickening twist of fascination and awe, watching as Michael stabbed the guard over and over, leaving no body part untouched, the man;s screams filling the room. Your heart felt warm, knowing that Michael was willing enough to kill someone for you.
Lastly, Michael stabbed him until his chest, stomach, and face was shrouded in punctures, cuts, and wounds. With one last jab, the colored pencil stabbed into his neck, making the man gurgle on his own blood.
"Michael..." You whispered, your eyes taking in his bloodied form as he slowly turned to you, heaving himself up and moving towards you. It was as if he was a trained dog hoping he made his master proud. However, you were nothing of the sort. When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into his strong form. "Thank you..."
Michael gave a small huff, hesitantly touching your head with his bloody palm, staining your strands with the bodily fluid. Without another word, Michael pushed you away and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the bed and heading towards the door.
"Where we are going?" You asked in confusion, following behind the behemoth of a man down the stark white hallway.
In response, Michael tugged on your hand and you decided to go along with whatever he had in his mind. He saved you after all; even when he didn't have to, he did. It made you feel safe and protected in his presence.
"Alright, Alright." You muttered, your figures turning a corner and out of sight.
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Red and white.
Those were the colors you would never forget. The way the walls were coated in blood and bodily fluids of various nurses and guards that laid along the floor in mangled messes.
Michael was strong, very strong. You remembered the way he smashed a guard's skull in with his fingers alone. You shuddered at the thought, crossing your arms and staring at the wall in front of you as you waited for Michael to finish off his last victim. A nurse arriving at the right place at the wrong time as Michael ambushed her, his hands around her throat as he strangled her.
Michael walked over to you, his muffled huffing practically hovering over your ear as he showed you shoes and coat. You stared at the items with a blank expression, wondering what he wanted you to do with these.
He huffed before shaking the items in his hands, motioning the items towards you. You sighed before taking the items with a small smile, throwing on the shoes and coat. You felt the warmth of the fabric soothe your cold figure.
"Thank you..." You muttered softly, looking up at him as he stared down at you.
He couldn't help but think you looked...cute.
He offered you his bloodied hand, which you instantly took and followed him to the exit. You both were finally going to be free and it was all thanks to him.
After a few hours of walking, your feet were beginning to ache and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off.
After your fifth yawn, Michael stopped in his tracks, turning towards you in the middle of the field. He simply stared at you as you bent forward to rest your hands on your knees.
Michael, I need to rest for a moment. Please my-" Your words were cut off when Michael stormed over to you, grabbing you roughly around the hips, hoisting you into his arms. His arm went around your waist, while the other held your back in a bridal style fashion.
Your eyes widened from his sudden roughness, however you couldn't complain as you basked in his warmth, nuzzling your face in the bloodied fabric of his robe.
"Thank you." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to finally relax for the first time tonight. You didn't notice the way Michael was staring at you in his arms, his darkened eyes filled with something unknown, dangerous...maybe even a little bit of caring.
Silently, he turned and resumed walking through the field, making sure to keep you safe as you began to doze in his arms.
Finally, you were his.
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Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked
Tagging: Comment to be added!!
@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @bluecoolr @the-pinstriped-hood @flower-crowned-lady @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @azzy-ozborn @strrvnge @repostingmyfavs
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plaguerat44 · 9 months
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Pov: Billy and Stu went to go kill Y/n
Honestly I’ve been laughing at this for a while. I was thinking about Billy Stu and Y/n got together after Billy and Stu went to go and try Y/n just to get beat up……They really tried
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plaguerat44 · 10 months
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Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️
The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 22
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Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Taglist
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Summary: You and Rick face the consequences of spending the night together. Word count: 4K This chapter contains: Shane and kissing. The two are not related.
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This was the best dream Rick Grimes had ever experienced. You, the most captivating and sweetest-smelling omega in the world, were lying right next to him, your round softness nestled in his own body. Even mixed with Daryl’s, your scent was intoxicating. He sighed and groaned, tightening his arms around you. You startled awake, but Rick, half-asleep, just soothed you with a low voice.
“Hush now, Bunny.”
“Mmm, it’s too early, Alpha.”
“That’s right, Omega,” Rick mumbled, letting himself get lost in the dream again.
He started dozing, but was awakened suddenly when you slipped out of his arms. Throwing the covers aside, you leaped out of bed, glancing around frantically.
“Daryl’s here!”
Fully awake now, Rick watched dumbly as you snatched up your glasses and ran out of the room. He sat on the bed, willing his body to calm the hell down and trying not to panic. The dream world was gone, but he’d still been holding you in his sleep, acting like your mate and wanting to be just that. His cock was straining in his too-tight briefs. It was like you’d been ripped away from him, taking with you his good sense and his will to live.
How was he going to explain this to his friend? His stomach knotted, as he slipped on his boots. Not knowing if he could even look Daryl in the eye, Rick also felt your loss so keenly, he couldn’t help chasing after you.
He followed your scent trail back to the main room, then down the hallway toward the entrance. There, he stood in the doorway of the fellowship hall, watching Daryl hug and kiss you. Rick dragged his hand through his unruly curls, blatantly staring as you gazed up at Daryl and whispered to him.
At that point, Rick realized just how wrong he’d been about everything.About sharing a room with you, about standing in for your true mate in every way but one. Instead of letting himself fall asleep, he should have stayed awake and gotten the hell out of that bed the moment you’d zonked out for the night. 
Honestly, though, his resistance to you had been shattered by then. You, scared and needy, tempted him like nothing else ever had. 
He recalled what you hinted at yesterday, about him smelling you despite the fact you wore your scent blockers. Maybe in another time, another place, he’d let himself believe you were his, but you weren’t. Daryl’s mark was emblazoned on your skin, and whatever Rick might want, or even need, didn’t matter.
While Rick stewed in his thoughts, Daryl started walking his way, with you in tow. Rick braced himself for the worst of Daryl’s rage, but all the man did was jut out his hand.
Shocked, Rick shook it.
”Thanks for everythin'.“ Daryl muttered, shuffling his feet and gazing down at the floor. ”Y/N tol' me all ‘bout what happened. Jus' wanna let ya know there's no hard feelin's.“
Rick's gaze flitted between the two of you. You told Daryl everything? And he was okay with it? How? Rick would have been feral if someone else touched his mate.
“Daryl, I'm sorry,” Rick began. “I should've let them stay alone—”
Daryl shook his head, still not meeting Rick's eyes. “They needed ya, and ya did what I couldn't.” He shrugged. “'s alrigh'.”
Rick saw you looking at Daryl, your brow furrowed with concern.
“You don’t have to be okay with it,” Rick said, taking a step toward his friend. “I know I messed up.”
“Horse shit!” Daryl snapped. “I fucked up an’--” he trembled and took a deep breath, “An’ while I was out there, you were here takin’ care of what I couldn’t.”
“Daryl,” you soothed, rubbing his arm. “Let’s go find somewhere private and talk. All three of us.” 
Suddenly, a small, pajama-clad body was sprinting down the hallway, screeching, “Daddy!”
All three of you turned your heads toward Carl running down the hall, with Ivan flopping around in his right hand. The pup threw himself at Rick. 
“Daddy, don’t leave!” he cried.
Every time Carl did this, it broke Rick’s heart to pieces, but at least this time, he was able to stop his son’s tears. He squatted and pulled him into a proper hug.
“Not going anywhere, Carl. Bunny’s mate just got here, and we came to meet him.”
“Can I meet him, too?”
“Carl!” Lori shouted, and Rick looked up to see Lori coming down the hallway, Shane only a step behind her.
“Bunny!” Carl exclaimed, twisting away from Rick and heading for you.
Shane growled, putting Rick on high alert. Daryl must have sensed it too, because he was right next to Rick in an instant, blocking you from Shane’s view.
*
Just as you were about to greet Carl, Daryl gently pushed you behind him and stood next to Rick, both men doing a pretty good impression of an impenetrable wall.  Instinctively, you took Rick’s pup by the hand and held him close to you. Whatever danger your alpha sensed, you were determined to keep it from getting to Carl.
“Lori, he’s fine,” Rick said.
“He’s my son, Rick!”
“Mine, too, Lori! And if I say he’s fine, then he’s fine.”
Daryl snarled, and you couldn’t ignore the musk of an unfamiliar alpha filling the room. It sickened you with its presence as it tried to dominate the large space.
In front of you, Daryl squared his shoulders. “Take ‘nother step, an’ you’ll regret it,” he warned.
“You really going to assault a police officer, buddy? You must be dumber than you look.”
You put your arm around Carl, not daring to move from where Daryl had put you.
“Cut it out, Shane,” Rick calmly said.
Carl tugged on your hand.  “Can we go back to the other place? I don’t like it when Shane yells.”
Was Shane in the habit of yelling around Carl? You hated the man already. Not only did he destroy Rick’s family, but he was upsetting Carl.
Your instincts told you to run and hide with Carl, but he wasn't your pup, no matter how fond you were of him.  You squatted down next to him.
“I think it’s best if you went back to your Mom. Your Daddy isn’t leaving anytime soon. Promise.”
“What about you?” he asked, holding Ivan to his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere, either.”
He nodded, then glumly walked away from you, back to his mother. 
You peered around Rick to see Lori scoop up the boy in her arms. 
“What did I tell you about running off like that, Carl?” Lori said, hugging him close.
Was it really running off if the kid just wanted to see his dad?
“That your new playmate?” Shane said, and you glanced up to find the dark-haired alpha glaring down at you.
Rick took you by the elbow and gently urged you behind him again, trying to block you from Shane’s view.  
“They’re mine,” Daryl growled, his barely contained rage so unlike Rick’s calm alertness.
Shane scoffed. “Somethin’ ain’t right about this guy, Rick. Looks like he walked in here off the trailer road. Carl shouldn’t be anywhere near him.”
Rick growled. “Carl’s my son, not yours. Just ‘cause you and Lori got something going on doesn’t change that. And it never will.”
Both of the alphas in front of you widened their stances, as if a fight might break out at any moment. But surely this wasn’t something worth fighting over. You stared at them, struck by how in sync they were, how they both tried to hide you from Shane, all without a word between them.
Something urged you to touch them both. Nothing in you wanted them to back down, but it felt like they needed you, especially Daryl. Though he might not admit it, Shane’s words could cut to the quick, bringing up memories that didn’t need to resurface.
If Rick was right about your soothing pheromones, you hoped Daryl felt them now. Maybe not enough to make him back away, but enough to make him brave and confident, like the person he was at home.
You detested Shane for judging your mate, for making Daryl doubt himself. You opened your bond to Daryl, keeping close your carefully guarded secret, but sharing the trust you had in him, the love.
Beneath your palms, Daryl relaxed somewhat, and so did Rick.
Rick cocked his head, turning toward  Daryl. “You can punch him if you want. Right in the nose. He’s broken it enough, so you can’t do much more damage.”
Daryl huffed.
Rick went on, “Guy comes in here, stares down your mate, and insults you at the same time.”
“I’d like to see him try,” Shane announced.
What an idiot this man was. You dared to look at Shane again, this time peeking around Daryl’s side. “Can’t you see it’s two against one? Even if you’re a cop, so is Rick. If you’re truly asking for it, and my Alpha hits you? It’s our word against yours, dumbass.”
“Bubbie,” Daryl warned, his voice low. 
Rick chuckled.
“Well, you heard ‘em Shane,” Rick said. “Besides, you already got what you want: the girl, my house, the treehouse I spent a year building.”
You looked on as Shane’s temper instantly deflated, his shoulders drooping with a long sigh. “Look, man, I’m sorry…it just…happened.”
Rick made a fist at his side, and for a moment you thought Rick would be the one to punch Shane instead. But Rick gradually loosened his fist, stretching out his fingers and sighing.  “You made your choice Shane, and now I have to live with it. 
Shane’s face fell, almost making you feel sorry for him. He turned and walked back down the hallway, a resigned man in place of the aggressive alpha he’d been minutes before.
Daryl scoffed. “Ya got weird taste in friends. That guy’s a goddamn asshole.”
Rick nodded. “One of the many reasons we’re not friends anymore.”
Absently, you rubbed soothing circles on each of their backs, and both men slowly turned around, staring down at you.
The hand that had been touching Rick fell to your side, and you made a fist of your own, missing the solid warmth of his back beneath your palm. Daryl wrapped his arm around you.
Rick grinned, “Hope we didn’t get you too spooked, Bunny.”
“Bunny?” Daryl mumbled, his eyebrow quirked.
Rick shrugged, his gaze still on you “Like you said, ‘bunny in a bear trap.’ That’s how they were yesterday morning, down on all fours in the rain, looking for their glasses.”
“I did not look like that until the thunder started,” you defended. “This is my first hurricane. I’ll do better next time.”
“Won’t be alone next time, neither,” Daryl told you.
You nodded, still sensing some of Daryl’s unease. You took his hand. “I wasn’t alone this time. And we need to talk about that, all three of us.”
“I don’t--”Rick said.
“Please, Rick. I have to tell you something. But first, Daryl needs to clean up and eat.  Can you get us a couple of meals and bring them back to the room?”
Rick’s eyes flitted from you to Daryl.
Your mate peered down at you. “Wha’s goin’ on, ‘Mega? Ya hurt? Scared?”
“No…well, I am scared, but not in the way you’re thinking. Can we just get some breakfast and talk? The three of us?”
*
Daryl had dressed in a set of Rick’s clothes, sans underwear and socks. Something about wearing another man’s skivvies just didn’t seem right. His belly was full, his mind was restless, as he leaned on the wall of the tiny room apportioned to you and Rick.
You, small and meek, perched on the corner of the bed, twisting your fingers in your lap, looking like--well, a skittish rabbit. The nickname fit you, he had to admit.
Rick didn’t appear much calmer; he sat on the little couch, his knee bouncing wildly as he stared out the small, ceiling level window. It let in a sliver of gray light, and showed the storm as it raged outside.
You took a deep breath and stared at your lap, and through the bond Daryl noticed your worry and fear. He took one step toward you, but you held up your hand, palm facing him. 
“Just give me a second,” you said, meeting his eyes.
He nodded and resumed his post, though he ached to provide comfort and ease away the trouble that plagued you.
You rubbed your hand on your forehead. “I don’t really know where to start. With what Ro said, or the first time I suspected, or start with what happened just now.”
“Jus’ take yer time, Bubbie,” Daryl told you, his belly in knots. “We ain't goin’ anywhere.”
“Nowhere to go,” Rick said. “Just start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out, especially if you think it’s important.”
You nodded to Rick, and when you looked at Daryl, unshed tears formed in your eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” you sniffed. “I love you, but I have to tell you, and you may not like what I have to say.”
Daryl sprang off the wall, ignoring your earlier request. In a flash, he was next to you on the bed pulling you against him. “Whatever it is, ‘s alrigh’, ya hear? I feel it tearin’ ya up inside, an’ I can’t stand it.” He framed your face with his hands. “G’on, Bubbie.”
Your lower lip trembled , and you glanced at Rick. The deputy was sitting forward on the couch, forearms resting on his knees, his eyes locked on you.
You blinked and tears streamed down your cheeks. “I think that Rick is my mate.”
Daryl froze in place, shock and fear coursing through him.
But you went on. “I think you both are.”
“Both?” Daryl managed to say.
You nodded. “I’m sorry. Alpha.”
Daryl looked over to Rick, and his normally unflappable friend stared at you like a deer in headlights facing his tragic fate head-on, unable to stop it.
“I tried not to. I tried so hard. I don’t even know if you feel it, Rick, but I think you do. And out there, with Shane and everything, you both protecting me, and somehow I knew--I know--that I need you both.”
Rick shook his head. “We just wanted Shane to keep his distance.”
“No,” Daryl said, his voice low and gravelly. He clutched at you. “That ain’t it, is it ‘Mega?”
You shook your head and sighed, taking his hand and holding it. Whatever barrier you’d put up in your bond was gone now, and Daryl absorbed all the fear and longing you sent him. 
He felt your love for him, but he also realized how much you ached, too, for Rick. And the force of all that spurred him to fix this. To give you everything you needed, wanted, no matter what. You were his, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be Rick’s too.
He studied Rick again, and it seemed as if Rick couldn’t take his eyes off you.
“You don’t need to--” Rick started.
“They do,” Daryl interrupted. “I can feel ‘em wantin’ ya, Rick, jus’ like they want me.” He let go of your hand and stroked your cheek. “That’s how it is, ain’t it? First time ya met ‘im it was like you an’ me all those months ago.”
“Yes,” you whimpered, leaning into his touch.
“An’ ya been keepin’ it bottled up to protec’ me?”
You nodded.
He glared at Rick. “Ya wan’ ‘em like that, too doncha? Like anytime ya ain’t near ‘em ‘s like part of ya’s missin’. An’ when ya touch ‘em ‘s like ya come alive.”
Rick shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what I want. I’m not coming between you. Not going to ruin what y’all have.”
“Nothin’s gettin’ ruined. Don’ ya wanna make ‘em happy? Stop ‘em from frettin’ and hurtin’ an’ worryin’?”
“Daryl,” you whispered, sniffing again. “Are you sure this is okay?”
“Oh, Bubbie,” he murmured, kissing your temple. He nibbled your ear then whispered, voice low and soft. “I wanna see ya kiss ‘im like ya mean it. Let me see ya take what you wan’. What ya need.”
He raised his head and  looked at Rick. “What do ya say? Ya gonna come take care of ‘em? Make ‘em stop hurtin’?”
Rick’s chest rose and fell, once, twice. Then he reached out a trembling hand to you. “Is this what you want, Bunny?”
You nodded, and Daryl gently pushed you toward Rick. The other man reminded Daryl of a wild bobcat ready to pounce and devour its prey, yet Rick   moved as if in slow motion, using only a small tug on your hand to urge you down on the couch with him. 
*
Rick was doing all he could to be calm. You were next to him again, and his disbelief gave way to hope. All those times he imagined sharing you with Daryl. All those nights he spent alone, mind wild with images of him knotting you, of you having his pups.
Could that all really come true? Was any of this possible?
From the corner of his eye, he saw Daryl sink down on the bed, lean back on one hand, and use the other hand to press against his crotch.
Maybe Daryl really was okay with this.
Rick turned to you once more, and he saw your pretty eyes blinking up at him, red-rimmed and uncertain. His hand wouldn’t stop shaking as it held yours, but he kept holding tightly to you anyway.
On your knees next to him, you said, “Do you really want this? You’ve never said anything. Maybe you don’t feel what I do, maybe you want an omega you don’t have to share, or one who’s a woman, or one who’s thinner.”
Sweet Jesus, help him. How could he want anything but you?
“Oh, Bunny,” he breathed. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you. First time I smelled you I never wanted to smell anything else.”
He used his index finger and tilted your head up. “You’re perfect. Now c’mere.”
He pulled you toward him until you fell forward and landed against him. 
You pressed your hands to his chest to hold yourself up, but Rick hooked an arm around your waist and urged you closer. Your soft, heavy weight settled against him. How he loved the feel of you, every soft curve of you, the extra weight you had all over, the way you molded around him just right. With one arm still around your waist, he held  your jaw with his other hand, cupping your cheek.  Your skin was hot beneath his palm, your eyes shuttering as you tried to keep looking into his eyes.
He pressed his lips to your forehead, your nose. The hand on your cheek found its way to cradle the back of your head, and Rick held you in place as he continued to pepper you with light, fleeting kisses, all the while avoiding your mouth.
His body practically screamed at him to take you, to give in to all the desires and fantasies he’d pent up since meeting you. But Rick measured each moment carefully. You had all the time in the world now, you and him.  All that would come later, after he had proven himself to you, courted your properly as a mate should.
The room filled with the musk and perfume of all three of you. He spared a glance at Daryl, who was still leaning back on the bed palming himself over his jeans. He bit his lip and breathed heavily, staring at you cradled in Rick’s arms.
Rick never thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but he wanted to prove himself to Daryl too, show his friend that he could make you happy, satisfy you as you deserved.
“Alpha,” you whimpered. “Rick, please.”
Rick traced the shell of your ear with his tongue then spoke against your skin. “Look what you’re doing to him. To both of us.”
Your eyes flitted to Daryl then back to him, and you smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you said. “That both of you want me.”
“Who wouldn’t want you, Bunny? So sweet and cute.”
You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t want to be sweet and cute, I want to be sexy. I want to be yours.”
“You will, Omega,” Rick soothed. “Just not today.”
“Why?”
“Because this is still new. And I want to do this right. Take my time with you.”
“Won’t you at least kiss me, Alpha?”
“I think I can kiss you. But that’s all.”
“Okay,” you nodded, licking your lips.
“Close your eyes.”
You obeyed, fluttering your eyes closed. Rick tightened his arm around you and finally pressed his lips to yours. Your hands grabbed at his shirt, trying to yank him into yourself. He kept his kisses slow, languid, gentle. You tried to breach the seam of his lips with your tongue, but he wouldn’t let you.
You let out a frustrated moan and became a squirrely thing in his arms, protesting his chaste kissing.
He never imagined you’d be this needy. Leaning back he held you away from him, but you tried to chase after his lips. A passive omega you were not, Rick realized, instead you were a desperate little thing, intent on taking all you wanted from him.
What fun it would be to tease you, to have  you sprawled out beneath him begging, crying for his knot. He’d keep denying you, just to see how much you wanted it, wanted him.
But that was for another day. After you trusted him in a way that went beyond biology and hormones, in the way that two people could trust each other, regardless of designation.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Daryl standing up, shirt unbuttoned, belt undone.
“Here, ‘mega,” he said, reaching for you. He scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, where he sat you on his lap.
“I think it’s ‘bout time ya give Rick a break.”
You looked back and forth between them. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, Omega,” Rick encouraged. “You’re doing everything just right.”
Daryl nuzzled his mark on your neck.  “He wants to take his time with ya, tha’s all. He’s a decent guy, ya know. Not some redneck who picked you up at a motel.”
“But Daryl, I love the way we met.” You let out a stuttered moan as he kissed his mark.
“Ain’t ya heard of courtin’, Bubbie?” he scolded you.
“Of course I have, but nobody does that anymore.”
“Mmm, I think Rick does.”
How Daryl knew his intention surprised Rick, but there was a lot that Daryl picked up on that most people wouldn’t.
Daryl kissed his way along your neck, and you looked up at Rick.
“But I don’t have a family you need to prove anything to.”
Rick squatted and kissed your forehead. “You have a pack, don’t you?” He caught your lips in another kiss, crowding into your space as Daryl held you still on his lap and laved your mark.
“I’m staying right here, Bunny, gonna watch Daryl give you his knot, help him take care of you after. You and me will figure out the rest later, okay?”
You nodded, breathlessly, losing yourself to Daryl’s ministrations. Rick sat himself on the bed, leaning his back against the wall. He’d let Daryl have his turn. 
For now. 
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To be continued.
==
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plaguerat44 · 10 months
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Hi, can I request headcanon, how would Michael, Jason and Sinclair brothers propose their s/o? Thank you ♥
bestie how does it feel to have immaculate taste
(also I’ve never written for Vincent or Lester before so I gave it my best shot ✌🏻)
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Michael Myers
- Michael wanted to propose to you simply for possessive reasons
- sure he thought it might make you happy but that was just a plus
- still, he wanted to do it right
- he stole a ring from the store (and a couple other things just for fun)
- he actually stole a bunch of rings and then picked the one he thought you might like the best
- he gave you the ring when he got back home (along with the bag of other things which became an afterthought in the moment)
- you were shocked
- you didn’t think he’d ever wanna get married
- he put the ring on your finger before you could properly respond but you did end up stuttering a ‘yes I will marry you’ after the shock subsided
- he liked to see you wear it doing mundane things
- his
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Jason Voorhees
- when Jason realized he was in love you he knew he wanted to spend his life with you
- his mother had pushed marriage ideals onto him at a young age, the whole sex before marriage sin and such
- but he had broken some of the basic rules
- still, he wanted to get married like actual proper people
- if he could give you anything normal he should give you a relationship with him that at least sorta sounded normal
- Jason had no idea where to get a ring so he quite literally tried to make one out of tree branches
- it did not work
- but he ended up finding one on the ground in the camp and he took that as a sign
- he took you out to the dock and got down on one knee
- when you said yes he was shaking putting the ring on
- so much so that he almost dropped the ring through the dock cracks
- his spouse!! his!!
- literally he couldn’t stop smiling
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Bo Sinclair
- Bo Sinclair? Getting married? Who would’ve thought
- definitely not his brothers
- but genuinely he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you
- sure it was a little bit because he didn’t wanna anyone else to get their grabby hands on you but also because he loves you
- he took a ring right of a victims finger and thought it looked flashy enough for you
- Bo was sitting in bed with you when he popped the question quite literally out of nowhere
- you thought he was joking until he pulled out the ring
- eyes wide, you accepted
- man at the sight of you with that pretty ring on your finger...you were his
- he counted himself lucky in that moment and he even told you that, a rare moment of him not being small macho
- you called him a softy and he had to kiss you to shut you up
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Vincent Sinclair
- the boy wanted to propose because he thought you would love it
- he was so precious about it before he even did it
- he had found a ring years ago that he liked and was going to save for a wax figure but he just ended up keeping it in his pocket
- one day he was looking at it and realized he had to give it to you. he felt like it was already yours
- he picked some wildflowers (he made Lester take him outside of town to find ones you didn’t see everyday and you know how hard it is for him to leave)
- he handed them to you one afternoon while you were cooking literally out of no where
- oh my gosh you were so surprised but said yes so quick
- the e x c i t e m e n t
- he really does love you so so much and you knew it
- now you had the ring he gave you to prove it
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Lester Sinclair
- Lester is a very simplistic man but he does want you to understand that you’re special
- he’s never felt this way about anyone else so if he’s gonna be with you, he’s gonna do it fuckin right
- so he decided he should propose to you
- he managed, miraculously, find a ring around town somewhere when he was bringing in a new group of people
- was it from a victim? yes. did he pretend he didn’t know? yes.
- one night, just before the two of you were falling asleep, he told you you should go for a walk
- you were skeptical but did it anyway
- at the edge of town he proposed
- his words were jumbled and crude and slightly rushed (he hadn’t been expecting the nerves) but you got the gist
- never have you seen him so relived as when you said yes
- he showed bo the next day (who gave no general reaction other than ‘who gives a shit’) and then got to introduce you as his fiancé to all the new people he brought in which brought him such an unsurmountable amount of joy
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plaguerat44 · 10 months
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I've been feeling down lately and all I've been thinking about is getting a comforting hug from either of my husbands 🥺, sooooo I drew some slashers based on this meme 👀👀❤️
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Michael is TRYING to not crush your head 🥰
you are playing with fire y/n 👀
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Thomas gets all flustered when you hug him, he doesn't know what to do 💕💕 and he doesn't want to hurt you 🥺❤️
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Bubba gets all excited when you hug him, he can't say no to a bear hug!! 🐻❤️
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Jason doesn't understand what are you doing with your hands, but he's happy If you are happy 🥰🥰
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plaguerat44 · 10 months
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Being childhood friends with the Slashers
Slashers; Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer, Ghostface (Billy Loomis + Stu Macher), Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers (OG + RZ), Thomas Hewitt
To think that you were so close with them, it’s almost as if it weren’t coincidental.
• Billy Lenz
You only recall Billy as one of the only friends you had who had been so willing to try out all the weird dares back in middle school. You were fond of his strange antics, as it made you giggle at times. You kept his secrets as well, pinky promising him. Billy was really happy that day, his small hand holding yours the whole time. You never really thought you’d ever interact with him again after he had been pulled from public schooling altogether.
“___… ___’s here! Billy’s gotta call.. Right? Right! ___’s coming here!” Billy whispered under his breath, barely able to contain himself as he picked up the rotary right as you stepped inside the sorority home. He saw you from the attic window, your appearance remarkably the same, in which he identified in an instant. It made him giddy.
“Hello?” A voice responded. Someone that wasn’t you. Billy began to scream, his screams were calling for you all while he was simultaneously insulting the person on the other end. You were concerned, though you held the phone to your ear when one of the girls handed it to you teary eyed before exiting. 
You didn’t expect to hear someone blabbering expletives and curses on the other end as he signed off with the name, ‘Billy’. What you didn’t expect was to recognise that voice, no matter how loud and unintelligible it was.
“Billy.. Billy..” That was when you realised, shock overtaking you. “Is that really you, Billy?” You murmured. You looked around the room nervously, though you were relieved that nobody was around.
“___!” He cheered, repositioning himself on his stomach as his kicked his legs. He was absolutely delighted to know you still remembered him, a coo escaping him.
• Bubba Sawyer
You had known the Sawyers since you were little, your family having been quite close with them as your father had been working at the same slaughterhouse as they did. With the automation of the slaughterhouse, your parents decided to move in response to it, much to your protests that went ignored. After moving away, contact with them began to lessen and got a lot more harder—though you missing them had gotten a whole lot more bigger, especially for Bubba. He was always so kind to you. 
You didn’t expect your visit through the heart of Texas to have you running into the man you missed.
You saw that Bubba had been maskless, washing his face and his bloodied arms in the pond,  maybe he was finished with butchering meat. The pond tugged at your heartstrings, seeing that it was where he and you always went to whenever your parents were busy. 
“Bubba!” You hollered his name, your voice startling him at first. When he saw you, he was quick in running over to you. His pig-like squeals were amplified, wrapping his arms around you tightly. To the average person, those sounds from him would be unnerving—but you found it a familiar sort of assurance.
• Ghostface
  • Billy Loomis
Billy was initially distant with you when you tried to talk to him at school, though he crawled back to you at the end of the day, shyly asking to be your friend in school. He would excitedly talk to you about movies, more specifically action. You reciprocated by rambling about the movies you’ve watched, too. Billy became something of a quiet protector, though, you two were already difficult to tear from one another in the first place, as it resulted in Billy being petty in the ways he sought for your attention. This friendship continued on until you made it to Woodsboro High, Billy making sure to keep his eye on you as he continued on with his plan.
Billy patted at the seat beside him, a smug smile across his features as he began to eat at his sandwich. You followed suit, setting down the books you had been holding onto from the previous class. 
“How’s Mrs. Lake? She any good of a teacher?” Billy asked, chuckling at the sight of you huffing in frustration.
“Don’t even talk about it.. Anything you up to tonight?” You changed the subject, Billy catching onto it quickly, having known you for a long while. He nodded, a smile appearing now.
“I’m going to make a call tonight, nothing much, really.” 
After answering, Billy returned to his sandwich after doing so, ending the conversation right after.
  • Stu Macher
Stu had been dubbed as a problematic child long before you were even enrolled into the school. From what was honestly meant to be a day long interest in the new kid, Stu found himself quickly getting attached to you. He honestly craved the fact that you readily accepted him as he was and helped him focus on class in that really gentle way you did. Imagine his reaction when he heard the news that the school had offered you to be his aid in class, with you accepting it in a heartbeat? He was absolutely ecstatic. This arrangement continued until you two were in Woodsboro High, that fact itself had him quietly grateful. 
“Uh, hey ___?” You hummed softly, indicating to him that you were listening. His tone alone already had you knowing what it was that he wanted. You quickly passed him your notes for him to copy down. 
Stu smiled wide, patting your back as he always did. You knew that he couldn’t help the fact that he struggled finding ways to focus, so you always made sure to keep things easy for him to understand and recognise. By then, you always got the news from Stu as he boasted about the grades he had improving significantly.
“Andddd.. It’s all thanks to you~” Stu cooed, hugging you gently—which was uncharacteristic, but it showed how grateful he was. 
• Jason Voorhees
You were practically attached to the hip with Jason, having been promoted to being his buddy throughout the time you were in camp. You didn’t mind it all. You met him purely by accident, being far more interested at the drawings he made at the bench that was behind the mess hall. Jason’s mother saw you, and the rest was history. You didn’t understand what was it with the others attending camp, but you made sure to protect him whenever you could from those bullies. You were pulled away from camp due to complications that you never knew. You honestly felt heartbroken when you found out what really happened.
Years passed.
No matter how long it had been, you couldn’t help but feel as if you failed Jason. 
You shed many tears for him once you found out. If only you weren’t sick on that day, you could have stopped those cruel kids from throwing him in.
Here you were, resting white chrysanthemums on the bridge, right by the spot where it happened. It was quiet, as you would have expected, really.
You were startled by the sight of a hulking man donning a hockey mask as he stared at you.
What you didn’t expect was him dropping to his knees as if he didn’t want to intimidate you.
• Michael Myers
  • ’78/OG
OG clung onto you similarly to a cat with a toy trapped in its jaws, unwilling to let go. His possessiveness over you was as prominent as it could possibly appear, making sure that he scared away the boys and girls who shyly came up to you in an attempt to play. You were his only playmate, never to play with another unless you wanted to betray him. That fact remained prevalent even after the incident on Halloween, due to your aura seeming unwelcoming to others ever since that day onwards.
You watched the news, overwhelmed with emotion as you read the headline over and over.
MICHAEL AUDREY MYERS: ‘EVIL INCARNATE’ PATIENT BREAKS OUT FROM SMITH’S GROVE SANATORIUM AFTER DECADE-LONG DORMANCY
“After all this time, you decide on escaping now.” You murmured, checking the calender. You sighed quietly at the coincidence. You felt a presence behind you a good few feet away, feeling eyes on your back. Having known Michael for as long as you did, a small smile now formed on your face.
“How fitting for you. Welcome home, Michael.” You whispered, turning around to face your friend after so long.
  • RZ
RZ didn’t expect to make friends, seeing how it was his family that had him endure terrible treatment at school. He was surprised that you became someone who he felt protective over, being sure to keep an ear out for anybody who dare speak ill of you. While his size was puny in comparison to the other boys at school, he sure knew how to torment someone. RZ often pulled mean pranks, even going far to put his hobby of photography into the mix of the student’s bags. He even made sure to get the most gruesome shots to creep them out further. They stopped after a while, and he was never really caught per say… until that fateful night of Halloween, of course.
You didn’t know if it was purely by luck, but Michael found you as he basked in the aftermath of his murder spree. You were heading home, feeling eyes on you. You shivered, assuming it was due to a heightened paranoia ever since Michael had been taken away to the sanatorium.
You returned home, placing your keys on the side table. It was once you heard the back door creak open did you whip your head in its direction. Before you stood a man in a boiler suit who donned a white rubber mask. You remembered it all too well, knowing how it was one of a kind.
One thing that you knew especially was that mask your Michael wore on that Halloween night.
“Michael..” You muttered, his hand grabbed at his mask. He removed it, unveiling the long hair that he hid under it, further proving your statement. He stepped forward, his hand out for you to take.
• Thomas Hewitt
You were extremely close with the Hewitts, despite your parents warning you that it wasn’t for the best to form attachments; especially with people and places that aren’t permanent. You went ahead and did it anyway, being friends with Thomas Hewitt. He was the youngest of the Hewitt family and you learnt that he was really skillful with his hands in sewing. When you left you given Luda Mae your number for him to take. In exchange, he gave you a handmade handkerchief as his own version of goodbye to you right before you left, which made you cry on the spot. You kept in touch with him regularly as you moved, your relationship with him remaining as close as ever despite the distance.
“Guess what, Tommy!” You said, holding the phone closer to your ear as you felt your excitement course through you.
A grunt of curiosity escaped him, allowing you to elaborate on your words. He was in his bedroom, his head tilted to the right to avoid holding the phone as he sewed.
“I’m passing through Texas for something. Do you know what it means, Tom?” You asked giddily, your voice airy and light—indicating your elation. Thomas perked up at that, a few chuffs from him as if he wasn’t sure about it entirely, but a good feeling began to form. 
“I’m going to meet—no, I’ll be meeting you soon!” You answered, unable to keep it quiet any longer.
Thomas paused on his sewing, making sure he heard that right.
“We’re finally going to be able to catch up face to face after—how long has it been? Ah, it’s been so long…” You sighed as you moved on to ramble what you could do.
With that confirmation, Thomas reacted with his foot thumping against the wooden flooring excitedly.
Sure, Hoyt was annoyed, but Thomas couldn’t care in that moment.
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plaguerat44 · 10 months
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For anybody wondering Smith's Grove Sanitarium is the mental health facility and detainment center for the criminally insane in the film Halloween!
(22. Omega goes to an Alpha and clings on them to get away from another creepy Alpha/Beta. & 24. “My ex-boyfriend is here, please scent me before he tries to do something.”)
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"'Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world...,'" you muttered, eyeing the man swaggering around the cafeteria as if he owned it.
It was your ex, someone you never thought you would see again after a tumultuous relationship and an even more volatile breakup, and yet here he was. In the same institute you were currently locked in. You would have laughed in any other circumstance, seeing him incarcerated at Smith’s Grove, but it was hard to find amusement when you were in the same building as him. Also, it was hard to laugh through the sudden surge of sheer panic rushing through you at the sight of him. Clutching your food tray until your knuckles turned white you cast your eyes around wildly. Usually people gravitated towards their own dynamic, Omegas huddled together far away from the group of loudly talking Alphas and the few Betas sprinkled amongst the remaining tables talking normally and without care.
Your ex, an Alpha that liked to puff out his chest to appear bigger than he was and bully those he deemed weaker, was busy stealing food from a smaller Alpha and laughing. Anger burned in the back of your throat at the display, but it was quickly replaced by terror when his eyes met yours from across the room.
His look of shock was quickly replaced by a wide grin full of nothing but malice.
You trembled at the sudden phantom echo of his screaming in your head, his venomous degrading words hurting worse than any slap he ever delivered, and you felt the urge to curl up into a ball. You spun on your heel and began weaving through the lunch crowd when he stood from his seat. There was a guard chatting happily with the lunch lady and you knew he probably wouldn’t do much to protect you if you approached him. Your flitting gaze searched through the sea of issued white scrubs, eyes burning at all the white clothes against the white walls and white tile floors, before landing on a spot of bright orange at the back corner.
Seated alone at a table, chaperoned by a tense guard standing a few feet away, was the Sanitarium’s most known and feared patient. Michael Myers sat with slightly drooped broad shoulders, a paper mâché mask that looked a bit like a jack-o-lantern placed over his face with his long dirty blond hair hanging in front of his masked face like a curtain, and he was eating lazily with his head tilted towards the table. Everyone knew who he was, throwing glances his way and whispering to each other, and you remembered how you nearly fainted from fright the first time the murderous behemoth shuffled past you in the halls. He didn’t say or do anything in particular that frightened you, he didn’t even look at you, but his sheer presence made your inner Omega howl at the feeling of a predator so close.
Not only was the man huge and stacked with muscles that made you gape like a fish out of water, but he was an Alpha.
Even with the mandatory scent suppressants you could still catch the natural spice of an Alpha. Immediately, an idea popped in your head, and you didn’t even give yourself a second to fully think about it before you beelined for his table.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see your ex following you and you all but flung yourself into the empty seat beside Michael Myers. Instantly all the chatter in the room stopped, all eyes swung to you, and the guard nearby paled.
Michael continued to eat.
You felt a small sense of relief wash over you as the man’s body heat seeped into your suddenly freezing body, his spicy scent tingling your nose, and his broad shoulders blocked out most of the stunned crowd. You tried to continue as if this was a perfectly natural thing to do, unraveling your plastic spoon from its napkin before scooping up a helping of mashed potatoes, and you forced your trembling hand to still before you accidently dropped your spoonful. A wave of whispers suddenly rushed through the room and you saw your ex stop and linger a few tables away. You glanced over at the giant man beside you, noting that what you could see of his blue eyes were still trained on his tray in front of him, and you couldn’t help but notice how comically small and fragile his spoon looked in his large hand.
Feeling a need to justify yourself for sitting so close to him you leaned a bit closer to whisper to him in a voice that only he could hear.
“My ex-boyfriend is here, please scent me before he tries to do something,” you said in a rush, shifting nervously in the hard chair at the sight of your ex still too close for comfort, before staring wide-eyed as Michael’s mechanical movements slowed slightly at your words.
You knew that he heard you and you suddenly wondered if you were going to meet a gruesome end by way of plastic utensil. You saw his head tilt minutely, eyes still trained on his food, but you could hear a small huff of breath beneath his mask that you otherwise wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t so close to him. It took you a few moments to realize that he was subtly scenting you. You fought the urge to shiver at the discovery of him breathing you in.
Your eyes dropped to his plate and another idea struck you.
He was picking around his food, avoiding the mushy peas and soggy carrots that was served and focusing on the mashed potatoes and bits of shredded chicken slathered in gravy, and you spotted the pudding container that was served as dessert. The chocolate pudding cup was completely empty, virtually scraped clean, and you came to the amusing realization that he had eaten his dessert first. With a deep breath you grabbed your own pudding cup and placed it near his tray.
A peace offering or a bribe you weren’t entirely sure.
His movements slowed even more and you pretended everything was normal about your interaction with the man by shoving another spoonful of potatoes in your mouth. It tasted like ash and settled in your stomach like lead, but you forced yourself to appear as normal as possible. You spotted your ex taking a few hesitant steps closer, making you subconsciously sink further against Michael until your arm brushed his side, and you nearly leapt out of your skin when a heavy overly warm hand landed on the back of your neck.
In a quick move you didn’t see he had placed his hand on the back of your neck, grip loose and almost lazy, but the possessive hold was as obvious as if he stood and shouted in the now tense cafeteria.
‘Mine’.
The guard fidgeted nervously with the taser on his belt, the crowd falling deathly silent at the uncharacteristic movement of the infamous killer, and you forced yourself not to go absolutely rigid at the unexpected touch. You noticed that your ex had paled, the malice on his face dropping to an expression of fear, before he scampered back towards his original table.
You could perfectly visualize a tail between his legs as he retreated.
Your entire body relaxed at the threat leaving you alone and you swore you felt those long fingers twitch against your neck before they pulled away. He snagged your offered pudding cup and you smiled. Looks like you both had come to an agreement and, despite sitting next to the most dangerous man in the entire building, you felt yourself relax.
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