yelena-arkh

[noxious-fennec]

Local divorcee spending his 10 year wedding anniversary gnawing on the homewrecker's back

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Have His Cake And Eat It Too

Male Serial Killer Yandere x Gender Neutral Immortal Reader (CW: Noncon, blood, violence, murder, death, cannibalism and reader forced into cannibalism, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, cursed immortal reader) Word Count: 500 (This is really bloody and dark compared to what I normally write, but it is also a drabble and does not contain the usual level of detail my other fics do, if you have played boyfriend to death and its sequel you may recognize some similarities between those characters and my Serial Killer Yandere, he is a bit of a mix between Strade, Ren, and Lawrence, though I still feel he is unique.)

Imagine there is a serial killer loose in your area. He finds people that meet his criteria, the specific personality and aesthetic that he desires in a partner, and he falls head over heels in love with them. He kidnaps them, doting on them, feeding them, clothing them, bathing them. But his love for them grows and grows. Serial Killer Yandere rapes them, forcing himself inside so he can feel them surround his cock. Serial Killer Yandere starts to cut them more and more, enjoying the sight of beautiful red blood on their otherwise flawless skin. But Serial Killer Yandere needs them to be a part of them. Serial Killer Yandere needs to be closer to them. Serial Killer Yandere really can’t help it, his love is just so strong. Serial Killer Yandere cuts them open and grips their heart, feeling it beat in his hand as they slowly bleed out. He consumes it, he held their very life in his hands and made it a part of him. But now he is alone again and needs a new darling. Serial Killer Yandere meets you for a date. You are exactly what he wants, even better than the ones that came before you. He kidnaps you like all the others after drugging your drink. You wake up with a chain on your ankle, dressed in delicate clothing. He dotes on you. He bathes you. He feeds you. He soothes you. He fucks you so hard just to see those beautiful tears stream down your face, the prettiest tears he has ever seen. Serial Killer Yandere loves you more and more, very quickly. Serial Killer Yandere can’t help himself, he knows he will miss you but he must be closer. His hand is in your chest, gripping your heart. Your blood leaves you as everything fades. You die. While you are dying he has never felt more in love, but once you are gone the familiar emptiness is quick to fill him. But you are not like the others. You don’t stay dead. In the morning when he comes to take care of your corpse and appreciate your beauty one last time before burying you with all the rest of his loves he sees that you are fine. You aren’t human. Not anymore. You were cursed to never be allowed to die hundreds of years ago. Serial Killer Yandere is shocked. He thinks he is losing it. Serial Killer Yandere kills you over and over, taking your heart for himself each time. You’re always back the next morning. Serial Killer Yandere becomes thrilled. Serial Killer Yandere force feeds you your own heart and shares it with you sometimes the day after he has killed you again. The curse transfers to him, and he discovers after dying due to an accident one day that he is unable to die. Now Serial Killer Yandere can have his cake and eat it too~ Forever <3

[rootsofdread]

Hi! Can I request Trickster, Michael, Ghostface and Skull Merchant and Bubba with a survivor reader basically being goofy with the other survivors and fucking up gens every 5 seconds because their laughing and can't focus and when they get hooked they make jokes and try to annoy the hell out of the killer? And when it's time to escape they drop their stuff for the killer and leave cause they thought it was a fun match? GN reader pls :)

my first bubba request!! i loved writing him for you 🥺🥺

Bubba Sawyer / The Cannibal:

Bubba knows being in the Entity’s realm isn’t pleasant; it’s been a long time since he’s seen anyone have fun. So in all honesty — he kind of enjoys seeing you all have some fun. He’s the first to run over when he hears several explosions in a row from a generator, because he’s almost certain that it’s you, and he could always use a good laugh. You’re the first person in an even longer time to really make him smile, he loves getting to spend time with you during trials and he especially loves getting to laugh with you. For one trial, he can forget that he has a job to do. He can focus on you instead. His favorite thing is getting your gifts after the trials — he gets so excited seeing you leave something for him. He especially loves toolboxes, so he can work on his chainsaw, but he loves everything you give him. He always looks forward to seeing you again.

Michael Myers / The Shape:

Michael doesn’t really understand how or why you’re so comfortable being so…yourself in trials. It’s such a foreign concept to him. Everyone else is so focused on staying alive, but you, you’re…you’re out in the trials having fun, and laughing. He likes to sit and observe you from afar. You usually try to get him in on the joke, come on over here, Mikey, we’re all having fun, but he just shakes his head. Sometimes he gets closer to you and just looms while you and your fellow survivors cry laughing over your antics, exploding the generator you’re all working on at any possible turn. You’ll never get that done. He may seem judgemental, but really, he’s just…watching. He finds it entertaining, in a way, seeing some of you have fun here. He even feels a bit special when you take the time to leave him your things; he doesn’t necessarily have a use for them, but…it’s nice.

Danny Johnson / The Ghostface:

Danny is likely the only one that would be willing to join you in your antics; he seems to love a good laugh just as much as you do. Particularly, he loves either sneaking up on you by ending up just behind your shoulder and waiting to see how long it takes you to notice him, or by sneaking up on a teammate and not only waiting to see how long it takes them to notice, but also making gestures with his hands to try to get you to laugh, too. He loves how much fun you are — everyone else is such a buzzkill, he can’t imagine why, of course, but you just love to have fun here. You’re always laughing and smiling and making everyone else do the same, and it has him utterly smitten with you. You’re his favorite survivor to hang out with, and it absolutely delights him when you leave him your items at the exit gates. He takes everything you give him, and it’d be safe to assume he’s amassed a collection…somewhere.

Ji-Woon Hak / The Trickster:

Ji-Woon is a loose canon — for a long time, you were never sure how he would react to you, because it was almost always different. Sometimes he seemed annoyed by your antics, or amused, sometimes he completely ignored you and went for someone else; sometimes he was particularly bloodythirsty and you were his first target. It was always a toss-up. Over time, he gets more used to you and your shenanigans — he less feels the need to kill you for them and more just lets you have your fun. As long as you’re not specifically giving him problems, he doesn’t seem to really care. Sometimes, even, when he passes by you looking for someone else, he gives you a little smile or giggle, indicating he may just be amused by you now. And every time you leave him an item, you see him take it, and later, when he sees you outside of a trial, he hands it back to you with a genuine autograph.

Adriana Imai / The Skull Merchant:

Adriana, truthfully, will have none of it. She knows you won’t give her a challenge and she seems to not care much for that fact — she tends to leave you alone during trials and let you have your fun, slowly picking off your team members instead. Sometimes, she’ll give you a look when she passes by you, silently telling you to do something. Run, scream, hide, give her something to hunt you for. Yet, she seems almost flustered when you look back at her with that big grin on your face. She tends to let you go, too, always responding with you’re no fun if you ask her why, but you’ve always considered, perhaps, she has a soft spot for you. She’d never admit it. She does accept your items at the end, though. She knows she can find uses for them.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ just wanna be one of your toys, tonight❞

creepypasta x incubus!reader | drabble, how you meet, general dating headcanons | graphic descriptions of violence, descriptions of nsfw/smut | not proofread

warnings: yandere tendencies, unhealthy relationship habits but it's okay because everyone in this fic is unhinged, cannibalism with a sexual context, piquerism/knife kink, tentacles, teratophilia, pheromones used by r!, canon violence, LJ's section alludes to r! mutilating a p*de,Slenderman controls r!s food intake (?), guys this is kind of messed up pls

Eyeless Jack | Jeff The Killer | Laughing Jack | Slenderman | Toby Rogers

req: OMG. creepypasta fics. i love them. can you uhmmm. can you write headcanons for an incubus reader. with like eyeless jack, toby, masky and hoodie? ignore this if you dont do that sorta stuff im just jumping on a request train rn ghnjgjkejnjngf

authors note: unfortunately, I'm not super informed about the Marble Hornet boys so I did not include them ;'3 Also I did want to do the typical sexy incubi reader but then I didn't so enjoy demonic, somewhat feral, reader and his equally as fucked up lovers

Eyeless Jack —

There was silence when you first laid your eyes on him. As you're both demons who preyed on humans, it was akin to throwing two hungry wolves into a fighting ring.

Your prey, emphasis on yours, had been yours for damn near a week. You've been sneaking into their dreams, draining them of slivers of their essence by bringing them to climax in their wildest dreams. They would grin brightly the first few times but as the week progressed, they began realizing how exhausted they felt and those sexy wet dreams suddenly felt more morbid than exciting.

So your lips curl as you hunch over their head and bare your mouth full of fangs. Your hiss sounds like nails on a chalkboard and your jaw unhinging more than humanely possible as your forked tongue drips with viscous liquid. Jack steps back, his scalpel glinting in the moonlight as he returns the hiss with a gravelly snarl.

Oh, people think of "Sex on Legs" of a man when they imagine an incubus. That's the aim of your pheromones and magic after all. Everyone's ideal of a masculine body is what you morph into. Muscular, fat, hairy, clean-shaven, short or tall; whatever their genitals desire is what you distort their brain into seeing.

Your true form was a whole other story. You were a demon. It didn't matter if you were once human or if you were born in Hell itself. You were different now.

"They are mine," Your lips twitch and curl with every syllable. Fingers digging deeper into the skull of your prey. You don't know this demon's name and you're unsure of how strong he truly is but you dig your heels into the ground.

Jack pauses. His growling ceases as he loosens and tightens his grip on his scalpel.

He's had his run-ins with others "like" him. Eldritch beings, proxies of eldritch beings, and such others. However, incubi was new for him. He half-expected a stout creature with leathery wings and horns like those illustrations in the yellow pages of demonology books.

"...What do you need from them?" He wants to bargain. He doesn't have to but he does anyway. Partly from curiosity and partly from his own hunger...for you.

He wonders what you taste like. Jack wouldn't admit it then but he licked his needle-sharp fangs at the thought of your flesh in his mouth and your blood flowing down his throat like the most decadent wine.

"Soul," you answer as a sickening crunch resounds through the room just as your index finger burrows deeper, "Their brain, need".

"Good, I don't need that." Jack points the sharp end of his scalpel to his stomach. "Here, everything I need is here," he then aims his weapon at you with a loose grip; "Share, yes?"

Your lips hide your fangs and you tilt your head, swaying your head as you try to weigh the options. Other demons could be rather tricky. Sharing wasn't in most of their vocabulary. However, this one was...different.

"Share, yes".

That is how the two of you met. His masked visage and the tar-like substance that escapes from his humanoid eye sockets intrigue you. You had watched him cut open your prey with medical precision so he could carefully remove the organ he craved.

"Name is...?" Jack's pointed ears twitch from beneath his hoodie. He turns his head towards yours and if he were human he might have flinched from the way your nose brushes the bump of his mask. But he isn't, so he doesn't.

"Jack. My name is Jack," he brings one leathery hand to rest upon your cheek. It stains your skin and Jack's thumb rests precariously close to your lower lash line. The silence is a prompt for you to continue and you whisper your name, chewing on your lower lip after which makes Jack scoff in mild amusement.

Your relationship initially begins due to Jack's desire. He craves you in such a visceral way he doesn't know what to do with it anymore. It pains him that he doesn't sleep because he is certain that the number of times he's unravelled at the thought of you should already beckon you into his brain. But Jack isn't a human.

He's a demon. So, he decides to use victims to lure you. He wasn't sure how to go on about it at first but after tilting his head down at the moaning woman writhing in her bed, whispering your name, he takes her to his home.

When you visit your prey's dreams it's plagued with images of the eyeless demon and once you manifest into thin air he wastes no time pinning you to the wall with his inhuman strength.

"Jack!" you snarl in alarm and he releases you, smiling. His blue mask was placed elsewhere, instead, he hid his eyes behind tattered bandages. His teeth were so sharp you felt yourself tense.

You become something akin to a pet. Jack learns how to keep you captive in his home, locked behind bars and ancient runes written in blood. Despite the lack of freedom, you couldn't say he doesn't spoil you.

He brings you his victims. Dazed from whatever supernatural effect he has and sore from his impromptu surgery. They always scramble in alarm, panicked and disorientated before they spot you.

Then, Jack relishes in your vicious lunges. Watches from the outside as you crush their skulls open to fill your stomach.

When he eventually makes you trust him enough (Stockholm Syndrome is one beautiful side effect) he brings you to hunts with him. You're the shadow that hangs upside down from the ceiling when his victims wake up and shake, paralyzed as Jack digs through their layers of skin, muscles and fat. Your grin is hauntingly ethereal and inhuman as you lean down to kiss their trembling lips.

Jack wonders if you smell his desire. You do. But it's normal. Your pheromones were meant to attract sexual partners after all but your gaze does linger on Jack the more the scent of charred earth burns whenever you're pressed to his back.

"Teasing me?" He would mutter. Silence would be his reply and all he'd feel is your supple skin brushing on his ashen grey skin, nosing insistently to his neck. "I know you can talk (Y/N)" his needle and thread continue threading through the patchwork of skin.

"Why won't you touch me?" that makes him freeze. Jack had thought about it. Every time he saw you kiss your victims, or rip them to shreds. You were fire dancing in the wind and Jack can't justify his need to own you but he doesn't care.

"Because if I touch you, I won't be able to stop"

"Who said I'd want you to stop?"

Jack tugs on the blood-soaked thread. It glints in the harsh lighting of his desk lamp, briefly looking like a sliver of light.

"I'll sink my teeth into you, tear you apart and consume you".

His head turns as you grab his chin. His bandages tugged away and you chuckled as you saw the ugly gored-out holes. He hasn't told you the whole story but you know what scars he did have were all human-made.

"You can take my flesh if you want, Jack".

The thread snaps.

Jack belatedly realises that since you were not human either, your resistance to pain was just as crazy as your regenerative abilities. He takes you in a way that feels genuinely primal. Two animals going at it, blood smeared along the floors and walls while claws and fangs puncture into flesh.

You two give sex a whole new meaning. Jack finishes inside of you as he laps up at the gash on your neck, groaning as his dexterous tongues (yes, tongues) feel your pulsing veins dancing on them. You encourage his ferocity with saccharine sweet calls of his name.

Sometimes, as silly as it sounds, you make him feel human again. He swears the shrivelled thing in his dusty ribcage beats thunderously whenever you dig your fingers into the back of his thighs.

You were a never-ending feast. A banquet he will never tire from. The cell he kept you in wasn't in use anymore but he swears if you ever even think of going away from his side he would keep you in there until the sun exploded.

There'll eventually be a balance in your relationship. Once you gain his trust, you might as well carve out his insides to nestle between his blackened bones and allow his tar-like blood to keep you warm. He'll do whatever it takes to ensure no one, human or non-human, will keep you apart.

He thinks it is absolutely healthy if you return the sentiment.

Jack doesn't stray from you. He is devoted. The type of person to ensure you're always full, from his essence or from others, he will provide whatever you need.

Close-promixity. He doesn't have to be touching you, just wants you near.

Will bite you. Hard. Not in a cute nibbling way. Legitimately bites you to sustain himself and thinks it's romantic that you're inside of him.

He is more human than you at times. He enjoys human comforts. The internet, a bed, a shower. He doesn't need it, you're both demons after all. But they're a luxury that he treasures.

If "others" wander into your territory, Jack's growls turn spine-chilling. A chittering, gravelly, snarl that heightens in volume as he curls his lips. He'll unmask, scalpel forgotten as veins bulge into the back of his hands and his footsteps suddenly get heavier. The one time someone had stumbled on you while you were feeding, you swore you saw wisps of black smoke smoulder from Jack's skin and the faint sound of fire crackling.

Miiight be the most protective one of the bunch.

You having sex with your prey does not bother Jack. Your sex with him is much more solidifying, oath-binding and skin-scarring. Besides, he knows you need actual souls to be sustained.

Jack's not sure how long he will be "alive" but if he's dying you're coming with him, (Y/N). He would burn the world down for you but death won't keep you apart.

Jeffery Woods, Jeff the Killer —

"What. The. Fuck?" Jeff's damaged facial muscles could barely twitch or tug on his cheeks due to his insane self-mutilation, however, he manages to furrow his brows hard enough that he feels his cheekbones spasm as they attempt to frown.

The married couple he had been stalking laid dead on their mahogany bed and there was some sort of freak over them.

Your eyes were almost as wide as his as you slip three of your fingers into your bloody mouth, sucking them clean with an obscene sigh of satisfaction.

"Too...late," Jeff's "nose" burns as he surges forward. His boots track mud and water across the bedroom and your grin is maniacal as he unsheathes his hunting knife from his hip.

"You fucking bitch!"

Truth be told, you spotted Jeff during one of your nightly visits to the husband's dreams. His white outfit contrasts so sharply in the dark it almost seems haughty. A little "look at me"-sy if you could put it into words.

Jeff brandishes his hunting knife and you twist out of the way to instead latch onto the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes earn a pleasant shiver that spreads warmth to the thing between your crotch.

He was goddamn grotesque. Skin leathery, eyes so painfully dry and irritated it rimmed red and that cut-up smile? His yellow teeth and red gums are splashes of colour since they're no longer hidden by his cheeks. His jet-black hair whips furiously against his face as one hand reaches up to grab your ankle.

Your yell is more of a screech and Jeff wrestles you on the body of the wife. Her bones and nipple piercings dig into your back as Jeff digs his knife into your shoulder.

"They were fucking mine! You goddamn cunt! Stupid little bitch!" he's more robust than a regular human. Then again, a regular human would've died from his "cosmetic" surgeries a while ago.

You can still his heartbeat in his chest though. Slow but there.

He pulls the knife out and you exclaim once he stabs you once again. The toothy edge of the blade was meant to inflict pain every time he pulled out and Jeff's cheeks lifted into a gleeful expression as he watched you writhe in pain.

But then.

"Mom?" Jeff locks up. You turn your head to the shadow under the door but Jeff puts the knife to your eye and your snarling lowers into a hissing.

Jeff does not hurt kids. The way he stares down at you with stormy grey blues shows that though he has no idea how to slaughter you he will try to if you even think of laying a hand on her. Much to his relief, you close your eyes and go lax.

You don't hurt kids either.

"Momma?" The doorknob shakes and Jeff knows the kid probably smells iron but the two of you are as rigid as the corpses on the bed.

"Did you need something, Kavi?" The voice that comes out your lips isn't yours, it's the father's and Jeff only loosens his grip from surprise. Kavi's feet shuffle nervously and whatever stuffy she's holding squeaks lightly in pressure. "I heard noises...screaming" She hears the smile in your voice as you tell her to go back to bed.

"But-"

"Go to sleep, Kavi" This time it's a command and Kavi's shadow straightens up before her footsteps fade away.

Jeff's breathing had slowed throughout the interaction. He's good at being quiet when he needs to be. Not so flashy when the situation calls for it. A soft spot for children. How noble.

He presses on your chest with the heel of his palm but then gets up and sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. You turn onto your stomach, pushing the husband onto the floor as you watch Jeff glare at you with contempt as he paces.

"I've been watching them", Your eye roll makes him grunt. "I know, I saw. But, he's mine" He huffs at the sight of the twitching body on the floor. "Could've left me the wife, asshole" Jeff follows the trail of blood down your chest and stomach before ripping his eyes away as you pluck her eyes out to pop into your mouth.

Jeff swears he's never been harder.

"I was hungry".

Your grin like the cat that got the cream when Jeff rushes towards you and grabs the column of your neck to push you down.

For a guy who hasn't gotten laid, ever, he sure knew what to do. You helped, obviously. When Jeff's fingers tremble and hover you would goad him to do better, huff that you're getting bored and he needs to fuck your hole/s with more passion. That'd get that freak going.

He sure was in love with his knives too. Obsessed with the way you shiver and shudder every time the blade cuts into your skin or when he digs the tip of it in and you arch into the edge.

Jeff thinks his first time suits him. His life is fucked up in all sorts of ways so of course, his first time was with a demon. He remembers you bouncing on his lap, eyes glowing as you squeeze his dick and moan his name before he saw white.

When he wakes up, he shoots up straight and throws the rag away from his face. The bodies are stiff now and Kavi's older sister is pulling into the driveway. He wears his clothes and isn't quiet about it as he hears Kavi crying about nightmares while she rushes out.

Jeff's DNA being all-over the crime scene is something he does not give a shit about. What are the police going to do? Arrest a dead man? Hah! They'd need to catch him first and he's been dodging them since he was 13 years old and he's 24 now. They're shit at their job.

That one night spirals into Jeff fucking into his fists for a week straight. Unable to properly think without your whispers breezing past his ears in the wind. He's already insane but you've turned the broken notch higher.

Thankfully for him, you're just as hopeless. He isn't quite sure how long you've been stalking him but when he finally senses eyes on him he's excited because he knows it's you.

Your relationship is physical at first. Love isn't quite in either of your vocabulary but this relationship turns something close to it. He whispers your name in the wind and then he feels your weight on his back as your arms materialize from thin air and squeeze him.

"What do you need, executioner?" Jeff snorts at the title, shrugging you away as he unbuckles his belt and pushes the hanging body as he passes it. Jeff sits on the desk and pats his thighs.

"The fuck kind of name is that?" You cage him between your arms and lean in to lick the scratches near his eye.

"You don't like it?"

"I ain't no one's fucking executioner"

You roll your eyes and he clicks his tongue at it. "The fuck's that for?" You're still not sure what the fuck Jeff is, for all intents and purposes he's just something in limbo. Dead but not quite. Alive but not quite. But his ego is still that of a man and you're in your own purgatory as you decide if you enjoy it or not.

When Jeff realises he does care for you, it's a strange time for him. He won't ask if you've eaten or if you're hurt because suddenly he knows just from a glance. It's frightening to him. He doesn't call for you for a long time and he grits his teeth as you don't come for him either.

Stuck in-between again. He's relieved but he's angry. He's furious but sad. Are you alright? Do you hate him? Do you not care for him? How dare you!? But, also, great! He doesn't have time to be anything more! But how dare you? Do you not realise how much he cares about you!?

When Jeff finds out it's because some idiots in a cult managed to trap you?

He feels numb as he prepares to absolutely destroy them. With a one-track mind, he kicks open the doors of their stupid, dilapidated doors and lays waste on whoever isn't you. He burns their church down. His senses only rush back towards him when he has you in his arms.

That night, he's tender and sweet. It disturbs you a bit but you preen under his hands as he watches you heal your wounds in your own demonic ways.

"You came for me"

"...I'm your executioner, aren't I?"

Don't expect labels from Jeff but he does expect commitment to an extent. He won't be angry if you fuck around but he will fuck you harder if you mention that flesh bag being good.

He's bad at talking but once you manage to pry his mouth open he can be insightful about certain things. He's an observant man just so fucking egotistical.

You are his and he's yours but don't mention it too many times, he can get spooked. Did you expect stability from Jeff? Good, because you aren't getting it.

He wants you to participate in his kills. It's a great bonding activity! He is glad he has you as his buddy/lover. At least one person in this hell-forsaken world cares for him.

This does mean he can get a bit clingy at times, maybe even bordering on obsessed, but he doesn't give a shit. Even if you are a demon from hell, Jeff will find a way to find you.

Carved his name into you. No questions about it.

It will take years before he even says anything close to an "I love you" but he says in his own ways. He's tightlipped about you when his enemies catch up to him and if he feels that you're even a bit threatened he will fight tooth and nail until you're safe.

Jeff knows he's the last person that deserves a wish to be granted but he squeezes you tighter in his arms when he thinks of growing older. He's scared of dying, always has been, but the thought of leaving you alone/being without you? It terrifies him.

When his hair starts getting more salt and peppery he gets quite grumpy every time you mention it. He does soften when he notices you "ageing" as well - he knows you aren't and it's just your shapeshifting but he swears he'll do anything to stay by your side for as long as he can.

Laughing Jack —

Oh, he was familiar with your kind. Laughing Jack mainly targets families but he's been terrorizing the world since the 1800's, he knows the vices of men. He shoos them away (which is a nice way of saying he disembowels them if they get territorial over their prey).

What he didn't expect was to see you panting raggedly with your chin dripping with blood and pieces of what once was a man under your claws.

Laughing Jack's eyes shoot towards the child he had been "befriending". He knew he was suffering and Laughing Jack truly did not care — he wanted to have fun mutilating the entirety of his family and was only here because he wanted to visit his "friend".

The hair on the back of your neck pricks and your jaw unhinges as your eyes land on the lanky being.

You know of him too. This entity that was once brought to earth to help a lonely child turned into a demonic entity that relished in the pain of humans.

You're also aware he has an affinity to target children to bring back to his circus of horrors under the guise of "saving them" and even though you're a creature of hell, you stand in front of the cowering boy with your teeth on display.

"This is new", Laughing Jack giggles out. His claws curled in front of his mouth as he stalked forward. Oh, he knows why little Carl wanted to run away from home. His mother did a shit job at protecting him from his drunk stepfather and Jack was going to do just that.

He was going to let Carl run away. Never said Carl would be alive when he did. But Carl never asked.

"Usually you whores are busy with the adults, not the kids". The very implications of what he said have you snapping your teeth. He raises his hands in faux surrender with a mocking grin.

"Gone soft? Who were you here for?"

Your lips twitch and Jack pauses just as he's about to step out of the shadows. Carl's weeping and sniffling echoed in the room. Jack's plastered smile turns sour as seconds tick by.

You know better than to anger him. So you will yourself to speak: "His mother". Jack bounces back like nothing had happened and gleefully strides over into the light.

"J-Jack? Jack!" "Carl!" Your hand shoots out to grab at the boy but he rushes into Jack's claws and sobs freely into his chest as Jack shushes and cradles him. Jack gingerly plucks the stretched-out shirt back over Carl's shoulder and rubs his back.

"Then you can go!" Jack cheers as he cradles Carl. "Go, go! Go and get that bitch of a woman!" You march up to him and grow taller tower over him. Jack's neck cranes to meet your eyes and he swears his neck creaks. He's never had to look up at anyone before.

"The boy isn't yours!" Jack's claws envelope Carl's head as the boy covers his ears. "Protective? Your kind usually has a one-track mind, never known demons to have sympathy", Jack's eyes squish into crescent moons.

"Have you gone soft, demon?"

Carl isn't sure what happens next. He just knows that when he wakes up the next day, he isn't scared and his mom isn't there. Instead, there's you. He isn't scared of you, he trusts you and he knows that you're his older brother.

He goes to school with you by his side and when he comes back, you've made food for him. Carl doesn't know where all the money comes from or why there are foggy memories of horror when he stares into space but your voice always snaps him back to reality.

Carl doesn't know where you go off to at night but he knows he isn't scared because Laughing Jack always pops up in the house.

Carl doesn't know how lucky he is, not really, but as he grows old he does feel gratitude. He doesn't know nor care why you're not his brother on papers or that his mom isn't in the picture. He knows he loves you though.

And he likes Laughing Jack too. Even if he's scary sometimes.

"Honey! You're home!" You glare at Jack as you step into the kitchen, wiping blood from your chin as you shed your jacket and your human skin. Jack looks comically out of place. He waits for you to shed before he gathers you in his arms.

This arrangement was odd. Out of place. But you learned not to hate it. Maybe Laughing Jack was right, maybe you were getting soft but you were glad that Carl was safe. Even if you had to pretend to be his older brother and then deal with Laughing Jack at night.

He sways with you in the kitchen, humming an old tune and you groan as your shape settles. He grins as he runs his claws down your back then holds you firmly.

Jack wasn't interested in sex and you were okay with that. He just wants to hold you like this, an affection growing within him as he inhales your scent.

"Carl's at a sleepover, must be having fun", Jack twirls you and you allow it with a ghost of a smile. "If he was at my circus, the streamers would be intestines and the snacks! Oh, the snacks, (Y/N) Darling!" Your lips cover his and his brow raises as he returns the kiss.

"Carl's fine with regular streamers, Jack. He's human, let him remain as one", Jack's smile almost seems sincere as he looks up at you. "Speaking of humans, (Y/N) Dearest", Jack thwacks a roll of newspaper on your chest.

"Humans are getting scared of you, rabid incubus, and Carl's mysterious older brother isn't holding up! You need to scram", You sigh deeply as you pull away. Jack chases to cling to your back.

"He'll miss his friends"

"I'll bring them to my circus! He'll always see them whenever he wants!"

"You're not saying no", Jack purrs and cackles after you close your eyes and nod. He didn't really need permission but you appreciate him asking either way. Besides, he had a point! Carl could play with them whenever he wishes to so he won't be too sad.

Your relationship with Laughing Jack might be the most curious one out of everyone else. Carl made you more human than you'd like to admit and you made Laughing Jack more colourful (on the inside) than he'd ever tell.

He doesn't love Carl. Cares for, sure. He doesn't love you. But he wants your affections, that much he knows.

He brings you gifts, some of your real food, toys and all sorts. Even some for Carl because he knows you like it when he does it. Jack becomes a sort of family guardian. Anyone who tries to harm Carl doesn't just have you to worry about, Laughing Jack's looming over your shoulder too.

You share kisses, hugs and hand holdings if he's being annoying about it but both of you know Laughing Jack prefers not to go below the belt. He prefers that you seek physical pleasure elsewhere. He claps with glee every time you toss him the body, turning the corpse into a new throne or cake or whatever he wishes.

When Carl grows old and moves out, he knows that the porch light will always be on for him. He knows his "older brother" isn't human but he doesn't care. He also knows Laughing Jack isn't just his imagination but he doesn't care. Carl knows you're family and that's all that matters.

You tend to the house at times but after Carl moves out, Jack all but whisks you away into his circus. The spirits of dead children crowd around you, sharing an affection towards you due to Laughing Jack's own emotions. You tolerate them enough but spend most of your time with your Jack.

Laughing Jack doesn't know if he'd die for you, he doesn't even know if he's able to die really, but he would slaughter millions if it meant that you'd be content.

"Do you love me, (Y/N) Darling?" Laughing Jack tickles your side, giggling as you swat his hands away. You turn to face him and he relaxes in your hold, minutely but you still feel the way his muscles unbind.

"Do you love me, Jack Dearest?" His eyes soften and you swear you see the way baby blue bleeds into the monotone grey.

"I do, I love you more than I'd like to admit".

Slenderman —

Your head tilted at the shape in the trees. The person beneath you twitched and rattled out a groan as they clung to the little bits of life they still had. A quick snatch and grab of more of their brains puts an end to it rather quickly.

Swivelling your head you gaze at the drawings on their walls. Among the illustrations of the forest views that they drew and the maps, you note the odd scribbles.

This prey had odd dreams at times. Some nights, you find yourself fighting against a force just to invade their thoughts but you think of it as nothing but their own will. Some humans had quite a resistance to your kind.

You squint at the marker drawings, getting up from the bed to walk closer. Plucking the note that peeked from under the map only to gasp as the map fell onto your feet. It revealed more deranged scribblings and your stomach twisted into knots as you realised what entity your prey had been hunted by.

Your breath shudders and you take a step back only to stiffen as a cold wind whispers up your spine.

"Forgive me!" You kneel, bowing your head as you stare at the wooden floors in fear. This being - it was the very thing that crawled out of Hell. It was older than most if not everything that roamed this earth and you had taken its prey.

The crackling of trees makes tears brim your eyes. It sounds thunderous and it only grows louder. You force your eyes shut as the branches drag along the glass windows and you plead under your breath as you feel Him getting closer and closer.

When he speaks, your brain feels as though it's being pulled apart. Was this punishment from your past victims? You're struggling to understand what he says but his voice soothes into something tangible.

"Wha...What?" You lift your head and turn to face the empty, open, window.

"Come".

Slenderman was intimidating even for an incubus like yourself. As he towers over you, you feel your prey climb up out of your throat. But then, then, his spindly fingers stroke the side of your face.

"Please me, incubus", his tendrils sway in the wind and they lower and slither through the dead leaves to curl around your ankles and thighs.

His "suit" pulses and throbs, particularly between his legs and you see the slit glistening with wetness, white cockheads poking out.

Oh.

Well. Who were you to say no?

Slenderman doesn't speak in a language familiar to humans, it brings some semblance of comfort to you; his words and expressions are more archaic but it's undoubtedly the language of hellish creatures like yourselves.

His cocks are just as inhuman and long as everything else about him and those tendrils that sprout from his back? Oh, they make the best restraints. The barely there scales on them shudder every time he's close to an orgasm and since they're so close to you, the rattling of it makes you whimper in pleasure.

Slenderman allows you to go but he keeps his eyes on you.

The way you kill and tear into humans, the pleasure you take in it - you're nothing but an incubus but Slenderman wants you.

And like his other "toys" he is merciless in making you just his.

You're not allowed to hunt anyone other than the ones he tells you to. Not allowed to even think of craving anyone. You're his incubus and his alone.

Who are you to say no?

It wasn't all that bad. Sometimes, he would push the limits of your hunger if he wanted to "test" the prey but you were obedient to his whims.

Sometimes, he'd crawl into your mind to truly see if you were all his and though painful and vomit-inducing the rewards after were enough to make it worth it.

After all, compared to the rest of his toys, you were the most pampered.

"Master", a purring noise is all around you but with your sight taken from you (a feat that only a few beings could do). The only thing you can do to locate Slenderman is through touch. But the thing is, he's touching you every-fucking-where.

You were suspended in the air, legs spread with tendrils and arms bound to your back as your cloudy eyes stared aimlessly at the night sky.

"Patience, incubus"

Love is hard to pinpoint in this relationship. It's more of an endearment. His feelings for you were the same feeling as someone would feel towards a dog. If you disobeyed and bit him, he'd put you down no question - that much you knew.

He doesn't mind when you kill other incubus or succubi though. Not that he seeks them with the same intent he had with you, he is a bit addicted to you, he seeks them with the intent to make you jealous.

He knows you had feelings for him. Depends on him. His word was law.

He likes seeing his dog get jealous. He doesn't assist in your fights with the other demon, you have to be the strongest to be his and so he merely watches and rewards you once you win.

The one time you lost though? Oh, he was so disappointed, (Y/N). The incubus stood over you, clutching the stump of an arm as he hisses at you. You know he is about to rip your throat and you kick your legs as he kneels over you.

He grabs your chin and forces your head to be tilted up, exposing your neck. You were going to die, you were going to die!

"You're pathetic, pet", the incubus over you chokes, blood spurting out from the hole in his chest before he all but crumbles into dust. One of your eyes is swollen shut, bruised and bleeding all over and Slenderman cradles you in his arms as he helps you stand.

"I'm sorry, Master" Your tears are wiped away. His tendrils lift you into the air and close to his chest as you weep.

"You'd be dead without me, pet. Completely useless".

Toby Erin Rogers —

"...Get out of the fucking way" Toby had the coldest eyes you've ever seen. He had been tasked to kill the man whose skull was being split open by your hands.

He must think Toby was here to save him because he swipes a hand towards him, groaning desperately as his eyes shake. Toby's nose scrunches up in distaste. The man looked like a goddamn pug. His eyes bulged out and gaping his mouth like a dead fish.

"He's my kill". You furrow your brows as you stubbornly dig your thumbs deeper into the crack of his skull.

"Oops".

Toby throws a hatchet and it slices through your shoulder, pinning you to the wall from the strength he used. You claw at the handle, kicking your feet to try and push yourself from the wall but Toby simply ignores you to slash the man's throat with with his other hatchet.

"You asshole! He's mine!" Your thrashing makes him grunt as he slams his hand on your other shoulder. He grabs the hilt of his weapon and squints his eyes at you.

"S-Shut the fuck up, cunt. You can still eat the bitch, shithead", Toby isn't nice about tugging his weapon out. His brows furrowed at the sight of your torn flesh.

Toby has seen it all. After meeting a monochrome clown and a burned woman with a mask hunting for a guy named Jeff, among other creatures, Toby is unphased at the sight of a demon.

This means the already cold, unfeeling, man was not at all impressed. His eyes wander to your chest and your legs but scoffs as he cleans the edge of his hatchet on his sleeves.

"You asshole!" Toby waves his hand nonchalantly as he retreats. His plan is foiled as you latch onto his back, teeth sinking through his clothes and into the protective pads. Reaching back, his gloved hands grasp onto you to throw you across the room. The desk lamp shatters onto the floor as you lay out on the surface.

Toby rolls both his shoulders, sniffing in annoyance as he picks at the deep marks on the plastic of his protective wear. "Shit, your teeth suh-suh-sunk...through" his eyes glower as you peel yourself from the office table.

"Now, you're just ask, asking for it".

After that rough night, you stayed away from ever-crossing paths with Slenderman and his stupid proxies. Even with your supernatural regenerative healing, he slashed so deep at one point you're certain he had his hatchets go through you.

Your body ached for days. Not in a sexy way.

Toby, however, found it hard to get you out of his head. He knows an incubus' pheromones linger when they experience intense emotions and subsequently, so do its effects. But after 2 months of aching for you, he has had enough.

He takes a while to track you down. He's only human at the end of the day but when he finds your prey he reenacts the first time you met.

"You," venom was dripping from your words as you hissed at him but Toby simply raised from the armchair in the corner. The office of the poor psychotherapist you hunted reminded him of his childhood so he gladly focuses on your figure to focus.

He pays close attention to the way you get into the defensive, climbing the desk to put distance as you show him your fangs.

"I've got a pro, proposition for you" Toby walks towards the closet and to your surprise, your prey is tied up like a goddamn turkey. He falls flat on his face, breaking his nose, and squirms as muffled pleas come from him.

"You don't have to waste days making your prey succumb to you. I'll wrap them up...luh-like a fuuucking present and...you can munch on 'em"

"...In exchange?" You can't tell if he's smiling. But you hear it in his voice as he says:

"Fuck me".

For Toby, you provide relief and comfort. The beginning of the relationship was tough waters to navigate through, mainly for you. Despite providing you with food when he craves some physical intimacy, Toby is one scary motherfucker to be bare of clothes with.

It's a feat considering who was the demon in the relationship here.

Toby keeps his mouthguard on. For a whole 2 years, he never once took it off. By the time he does though? His eyes are closed and he's muttering for something to leave him alone. His anxiety crept up on him as he stared at the popcorn ceiling of the motel he had chosen for that night.

"Toby" his hand trembles and not because you're deep inside of him. His scarred chest falls and raises in rapid motions and you're aware that he needs to breathe. So, despite his heart-clenching whimpers you tear his hands away from his face to pull his mouthguard off.

"No!" Toby tries to cover the scar on his cheek. You shush him and pull out, carefully arranging your limbs so he can wrap his arms around you.

That night ended sourly. He shoves you away and dresses in a rush.

When he reaches out for you again, you don't pry. You've grown soft for the man but know he isn't exactly the touchy-feely type. Toby wonders if you're thinking of his face as he plows into you and his thoughts are so loud he has the audacity to grow flaccid.

As an incubus? That was a first for you.

"...Ugly mug, huh?" You eye him as you suckle on his cockhead. Now? He was going to talk about that night, now? Okay. Sure.

"No, I like your face" Toby grunts, clearly not believing you. "Just sayin' that 'cuz my dicks in your face". Well, at least he is aware of the timing too.

He exclaims as you push him down on the bed and straddle him.

"I like your stupid face, Toby. I like your stupid fucking voice, your body, your sarcasm and your shitty personality. Is that so hard to believe?"

This relationship turns warmer after this night. He throws extra snacks your way and he appreciates it when you help him with stitching himself up from his "assignments".

When his paranoia and anxiety get the best of him, he finds it...nice...that he doesn't have to ice out his emotions anymore. He feels so human.

Toby is aware you're fully capable of handling your own affairs and so, he doesn't interfere. He's terrified of the Slenderman and even growing slightly curious about you too. It's a tough balance for Toby - it's not like Slenderman cares about work-life-balance.

So, don't expect to spend cosy days spent together somewhere sweet. Your version of date nights will be following him along on his missions or him watching you hunt and then spending hours together in the victim's home.

It brings Toby comfort. You're not human but the way you move through the house with him, it reminds him of simpler times; a past he no longer remembers but knows he cherishes. He thinks about the two of them being a domestic couple a lot.

"Remembering?" Toby says nothing as he kisses the nape of your neck. The two of you had washed up in the shower and the victims were neatly displayed in the living room with symbols all over the room. You two had all night to just...be.

"Never got muh-my memories back then, not...gonna get 'em now" He pulls away to grab the bottle of wine from you. When he settles on the office couch, you drop onto his lap with a plate of sandwiches.

He groans as you teasingly try to feed him but soon relents. He feels a bit ashamed as he struggles to eat "normally" with the open gash on his cheek but as he peeks at your expression he sees nothing but love.

So, Toby squeezes you closer and you say nothing as he allows you to care for him.

[weskin-time]

Ok so Deathslinger, Bubba, Ghostface and Michael with a survivor who yells “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” at them while they’re (the survivor) being chased by them (the killer) if that makes sense

Sorry this took so long!! this is my first time writing for the DBD killers so i hope i do them some justice!!

Stretch for DBD survivor when

DBD Killers x GN!Survior

not beta read

Deathslinger

He just wouldn’t get off your ass the entire match.

At the very beginning he was chasing Dwight before he spotted you at a nearby generator before dropping chase and picking it up with you. Weaving in between trees, ducking behind covers, even hiding in a locker never deterred this cowboy from going after you. You weren’t fully paying attention but you think you’ve heard 3 generators pop already, you were surprised you ran him for this long without getting shot or hit.

You chest hurt from how hard your heart was beating and your legs were starting to feel like lead as you ran around the Rotten Fields trying to loose the tall hulking cowboy in the corn. You weren’t even the obsession, he had so many opportunities to shoot you but it almost seemed like he missed on purpose.

You were getting a little fed up honestly.

Turning your head around to look at him aiming down his gun you yelled out to him, “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid, cowboy!!”

Now that seemed to catch him off guard. Caleb Quinn let out a horse wheeze of a laugh before white hot pain exploded in your stomach. He shot you.

You grabbed onto the harpoon like metal in your abdomen, trying to struggle against the chain as he wound up the gun to bring you closer. You grunted in pain as the tall cowboy pulled you closer to him. You couldn’t break free before you were inches away from him. Part of you thinks you fucked up by teasing him, but another part of you was relieved the chase would finally end.

You prepared to feel the barbed metal rip out of you and a slash across your chest but none came, instead his large hand came down to grip on the spear, effectively holding you in place close to him. You stared up at the massive man, his glowing white eyes bore into your sole it felt like before he pulled you closer by the metal in your stomach and leaned down to put his face in your own. Whips of grey white hair tickled your face as he looked at you with a shit eating grin on his face. You would have been blushing if all the blood wasn’t leaking out of your abdomen.

“So what if I do?” His voice was a tad raspy, it held a slight irish accent mixed with one of a western cowboy, you didn’t expect him to have a voice like that but you also don’t know what you expected him to sound like.

This was the first time you were this close to the man, and as you took in his features you realized he was a handsome man, large scar and all. You two stared at each other for what felt like a minute before he ripped the barbed spear out of your guts and he smacked you with the butt end of his gun making you fall to the ground.

You don’t know if you fucked up by teasing him but you definitely had a new problem now.

The Cannibal 

You could hear that chainsaw a mile away. You sighed as you got started putting wires together on a generator in Father Campbell’s Chapel. It had been quiet for quiet some time as you almost finished the generator, but you spoke too soon because a bleeding Meg ran past you and you began to hear heavy footsteps follow her up the stairs.

You lost your focus on the generator escaped you as it exploded in your face. Meg was already gone and now you had Bubba on your tail as you ran and jumped out the window. Barely a grunt came out of you as you landed on the ground, a two story fall was nothing but a little ache on your ankles, the Entity worked in weird ways. You turned to your left and ran your way to the killers shack, behind you you could hear the man’s chainsaw rev up.

You knew this killer was from a movie back in your own world before the Entity took you in its hard grasp, you barely remember the franchise of movies due to the Entity but every time you saw Bubba running around the map you had this flash of a memory in your head, where he’s in a radio station being distracted by a woman, her legs spread and his chainsaw running against her inner thigh. He spared her then, and you wondered if you could fluster him and use that tactic against him.

You entered the shack with an idea in your mind, he set off his chainsaw and swung it around, barely missing you as you ducked into the shack before the last swing hit you. You did your best to run him out the other door and before he could get out you slammed the pallet down on top of him. He let out a squealing sound as he tried to recover from the stun. This was all going to plan.

“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” You stood in place on the other side of the pallet, your entire body told you to run but you went against it.

He straightened out his posture for a second, he looked like you just flash banged him, the skinned face on his own covered any reaction you could gauge but you assumed he was a little shocked as he wasn’t revving his chainsaw to knock the pallet into splinters.

A small gasp like sound came from him, his posture looked conflicted on what to do in this situation and you had a voice in the back of your head wondering if you made him uncomfortable. But you doubled down on your words and gave him a wink.

That seemed to knock him out of what ever kind of spell he was in, and he made a loud chocked squeak and grabbed his yellow bloodstained apron with one hand and moved it to cover his already hidden face. You did it. You flustered the man.

He dropped the apron and turned around, he looked back at you and made a sound before leaving the shack.

You watched him as he left, and you don’t think you could admit this to any other survivor by the campfire but that man was very cute and his reaction to a simple little dumb statement made your mind change it’s opinion on him.

Ghostface

You hated the Hospital. The layout was confusing, you could never find a generator, and there were too many spots a killer could hide from view. Certain killers could use that to their advantage, and one killer in particular did.

Ghostface was a mortal enemy of yours. He would always single you out every match no matter if you were the obsession or not, it was kind of your own fault for it if you were being honest. The first time you met him you made a horror movie reference and he’s been hooked on you ever since, now he chases you around every time he sees you make horror movie quips back and forth before he hooks you and leaves you for dead. He made you hurt. He tore through your flesh in a way no other killer did, he left you sore after trials when normally you were patched up and fine. He was ruthless with you

You were working on the generator in the center of the building, it wasn’t safe as it was out in the open but it was the easiest generator to find on the map. You spotted movement out of the corner of your eye, a black shadow dodged behind a door frame and it settled in your mind of who you were as to who you were being hunted by.

You stopped your movements on the generator and stared at the door frame to see a white mask pop out and look back at you. You might have been imagining it but it looked like he gave you a nod, but you still turned around and booked it. Your heart beat fast as he followed you through rooms, he tried to slash you but you vaulted through a window before he could and his knife hit the wall. He was being quiet today, quieter than normal at least.

You ran him into another room and dropped a pallet on him, stunning him for a second as you ran to get away from him.

“Come back sweetheart! I’m not gonna hurt cha’! I’m just going to bash your brains in!” He referenced The Shining yelling after you, there’s the Ghostface you know and despise.

“Oh Shut it Danny! You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” You looked over your shoulder to see he gained back the space lost from being stunned.

You felt leather wrap around your arm and yank you back, turning you around and pulling you close to him. His hand left your arm and grabbed at the collar of your shirt, holding you in place unable to escape his hard grasp. Ghostface pulled you so his mask and your face were inches apart, you could hear his heavy breath muffled by his mask.

“You’ve just figured that out huh?” He didn’t give you any time to register his words before manhandling you into the large shower room of the Hospital before placing your stunned ass into a stall. “Stay here. you and i are going to have a little chat when i get done killing your friends.” He curled his fingers into air quotes on the word chat.

“Wha- huh??” You dumbly asked as he began to turn away from you.

“Oh sweetheart you haven’t noticed that you’re my favorite? That you get special treatment? How i make it hurt worse for you and no one else? You’re the only one I care to talk to hun. Now be a good pet and stay right there till i get back.”

Oh. Oh Okay. You stayed put mostly out of fear but another feeling settled deep in your stomach, a feeling you didn’t want to think about.

The Shape

For being a tall wall of a man, Micheal Myers was silent, he was scary. When they say he stalks they could never truly elaborate the pure primal fear this man made someone feel as he silently chased after them. You had found out the hard way why he was called The Shape.

You were trying to unlock a chest, the action easy but time consuming. Jiggling the lock loose always seemed to do the trick, and you had the time and ability to look around to make sure you were safe while doing so. You were safe as far as you know.

A large hand grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you away from the chest as if you were a baby kitten, but the collar of your shirt dug into your throat and made you choke, effectively stunning you for a short second. The killer used this as an opportunity to turn you around and grab you by the throat. You were face to face with a white empty eyed mask, the brown hair glued onto the old rubber seemed to be wearing away with age. His massive hand was around your throat, his fingers crushing your wind pipe as he lifted you into the air. Pain shot down from your jaw to your shoulders as it felt like your head was going to be ripped off. Blood couldn’t make its way to your head with his vise grip making your vision blur and begin to turn black on the edges. You struggled against his grasp, your hands trying to hold yourself up to relieve the pressure on your neck, your foot came to kick his stomach but he grip tightened and you choked and missed him.

You felt loopy as your head began to swim, you looked into the eye holes of his mask and it must have been the lack of oxygen and blood to your head but part of you liked this. Some part of you was enjoying this. This man was strong enough to hold you’re entire body weight up with just one arm as you wiggled and struggled in his grasp.

“Ohhh you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” you wheezed out. Your vision started to turn fully black and your lungs began to scream at you.

Your body was jolted as if you’ve been shocked as you harshly and suddenly landed on the hard ground, you gasped and gagged for air, tears now running down your face as you coughed and cried. Your eyes throbbed as the blood began to rush back into your head, your throat burned and your shoulders ached.

You looked up to see Micheal Myers standing stiff as always looming over you. He stared down at you and tilted his head to the side as if he was a confused dog. The empty black eye holes of the mask bore into your recovering body like a cougar stalking its prey. He had dropped you. Why? Did you startle him by talking to him? Did you fluster him? you were right?? Was he going to kill you?

A generator popped in the distance and he straightened up his head. He looked down at you one last time before he turned around and began to head in the direction of the popped generator. You held your throat as you continued to gasp as you watched him walk away. He made it about a ways off before you stopped and turned back to you. You must have still been loopy from the choking because you weakly lifted up a meek thumbs up and he turned back around to find you the other survivors.

What. Was that a good thing?

[heartfullofleeches]

A People Eater's Worse Nightmare

Yandere Parasite/Shapeshifter + G.N Reader blurb

Summary: They love you. What the fuck's wrong with them.

Warnings: Mentions of cannibalism

A nice big house. Large group of friends.

Yeah- this life was great.

Framed pictures of loved ones on the wall, freezer stocked full of meat. Beer cans on the coffee table and blood stains in the carpet. Such accomities made this place fitting to be their perfect home.

Shame they couldn't stick around.

[Hey, Dude! Last night was killer. You on for Sunday?]

The homeowner shoots a dismissive reply, sinking deeper into the revels of their catch present in the murky waters they reside. It was far too easy this time. A homebody with loose ties to numerous people turned the life of the party and friend group after a trip out of town. "Taking a new approach on life." And all that other horseshit that left people none the wiser to the horrors committed behind locked doors.

It was paradise, but too much of a good thing was bad for anyone's health. Getting to caught up in prey's daily life could make one sloppy. How people managed to miss those tiny spots of macroon in the rug or the smell that lingered was beyond them, but maybe that's just how primitive those claimed to be the top of the chain were. They needed to move ship, and fast.

A new message pops up on the screen, from a number simply marked with a heart.

[I had a really nice time with you last night. I hope we can meet up again soon.]

There it was. The other issue with being human. With how many lives they have under their belt, they've done this song and dance many times before. They've been married and divorced. Slept with numerous people in one night, and had committed friend with benefits deals. They could've made excuses for it all, but there was a side of them that longed for connect. An amalgamation of the feelings the one before them held and their own urges. There was many partners before this one and there would be plenty after.

So why can't they hit send?

[Hey, Y/n. Some stuff came up with my folks so I'll be out of town for a while. I'll hit you up when I get back.

A passage excuse. One that could potentially throw off their temporary mate if they were the type to overthink. For some reason, that got under their skin. Freaky. Maybe it's because they never managed to get them in the sack - or call them by their real name.

It's cool - By morning those feelings will be gone and they'll move onto the next. Just one more night and the homeowner would go back from social outcast turned devil worshipper - to a beast a little closer to home.

As their head sinks under the water, the homeowner just can't get that smile out of their head.

-

The parasite groans as it pull itself out of the bathtub. Hangovers were a bitch no matter what breed you were. It drags its heavy body off the floor and picks up the homeowner's phone. There's a missed message on screen. Their body suddenly feels lighter

[Hi. I saw you read my message, and I'm not trying to push things, but I wanted to invite you to breakfast if you were free.]

[Sure thing, Sweetheart. Just send me the locale]

The parasite hums to itself and it walks in front of the mirror, thinking about what to wear for its date with its partner. They open the cabinet to grab that perfume you said was nice on your second date-

What. What the fuck?

Ink slams the door shut; whiplash cracking the mirror. They stare at the exposed muscle structure of their skin, narrow eyes large as tennis balls. They - were themselves again, but they still as they did masquerading as that whiny little bitch. Their heart smiled in tune seeing that message, and their guts bubbled in anticipation for being beside the one to make them feel this way. They feel sick.

"What did you do to me. What did you do-"

Ink scrolls through the texts you've sent and photos you've taken together. You had to've done something. Poisoned them with some fucked up chemical. Snuck a part of yourself in their food to make them crave you so god damn bad.

Their search leaves them with nothing but a swollen heart and rage filled mind. They punch the mirror. Angry at the world, they still want nothing more than to see your disgustingly pretty face again.

"Fuck."

[fanofstuff01]

High School Au ((Sorry I'm feeling angsty))

15 years in the future, Adam and Lucifer are happily married.

Adam is just sitting on the couch in the living room watching TV when there is breaking news that interrupts his show.

Reporter: This just in, police say that they have captured the serial killer and cannibal that has been at large for many years.

Reporter #2: That's correct. Police say that the killer had murdered up to 30+ people. He has been identified as Alastor Altuwits.

Adam felt his heart drop and stomach twist. The tv changed to an interview with Alastor.

Alastor: You know, I gotta say. I was going to tie up a loose end from high school but I guess that little *bleep* got lucky twice.

Adam turned the tv off and ran to the bathroom and threw up in the sink and screamed.

Lucifer: Adam! Adam, love what's wrong?

Adam, crying: He was gonna fucking eat me!

Lucifer: What!? Who?

Adam: That night behind the school! Alastor was going to.... He was coming back for me!!

Lucifer: Woah Woah, Adam he's not coming for you.

Adam: I JUST SAW IT ON THE FUCKING NEWS! HE'S BEEN ARRESTED AS THAT CANNIBAL KILLER!! He s-said he wanted to tie up a loose end from h-high s-school.

Lucifer holds him close trying his best to calm his husband down.

Adam: He was gonna eat me.....

Lucifer: Shhh, it's okay you're safe.

They spend the whole night hugging as Lucifer tells Adam that Alastor can’t hurt him anymore and he is locked away safely.

I want someone to kick Alastor’s ass.

[spookytastemakercolor]

CANNIBAL DAD

Dad! Bob x Baby/Kid/teen! Reader

Yes I have become a part of the Bob simps, BUT THIS IS NOT A FANFIC! No, THIS is Mista' Bob Velseb as a dad! Cause who doesn't want him as a dad? I know you heathens like me want him as a DA-, Ahem. Sorry for that. Anyway onto the post and enjoy! As a FYI some things may not be cannon.

Warning: Cannibalism, gore, mention of murder/killing, Abandonment, Cursing, Mentions of being drunk, Mention of trying to feed off of Bob (Don't.), Used as bait, knifes, bones, kid behavior but more unhinged

BOB VELSED

To say the least you're mother never even wanted you after getting drunk and sleeping with a notorious cannibal killer that was loose after he tried killing her one night.

Bob found out he had a kid when she just left you at the front door of his hideout in the winter with a simple note saying, " Here's your kid, I don't give a shit if you eat them or not but I'm not keeping them. " ( She didn't live long after that)

Definitely didn't know WTF to do once he got you inside (Man was not prepared). He stood in his living room holding you for about a hour debating whether to eat you or not.

Once you started to try and grab his sweater he decided to keep you and raise you, even if he was on the run or not you are his little ball of sunshine!

He sat on his slightly disheveled couch for about a hour trying to think of what to do. Sure he'd had one night stands before getting caught but THIS! This wasn't something he would have ever expected to happen as he looked down to the small infant wrapped in his sweater to keep them from the winter cold. He had just got back from killing that cursed woman who left you out in the cold but now he had no idea what to do, he was stuck between eating you or not.

Finally he decided to just eat you and as he went for his knife something snatched his 2nd sweater, he froze as his head slowly looked down at the small hands closed down on it as if asking to be held up closer to him. Slowly but surely he lifted you up and held you with one arm as his claw like hand went to grab your hands, you gave small coo's and babbles as you played with his fingers. He knew then and there he wouldn't let the world take you away from him.

Robbed a convenient store 5 hours after he realized he needs to get you food and supplies when you tried latching onto him. (Headlines were fucking CHAOTIC with the pictures and tape!)

Definitely experienced with some baby care knowledge. I will die on this hill.

Since he's on the run the house isn't in the BEST conditions. . . . . But he makes due with what he has and knows he can keep you warm through the winter!

He doesn't know how to handle you crying so he usually keeps a victim alive for help until eventually killing and cooking them. Can't have anyone see him be a softy

You're toys and chew toys consistent of bones, anything he steals off victims, his horns (Yes. He gives you the horns.) Any and all clothes, blankets, and victim hand's (Don't question how it stays fresh. . . .)

The girl kept screaming for bob to let her go as he made his way to his hideout, he was slightly running since he had gone out pretty far in the woods and was worried you had hurt yourself. He opened the door and could hear the little screams of his ball of sunshine, " I-Is that a baby? Oh god please don't hur- " " Quiet! Now I need ya' help and your gonna' help me or else I take ya' eyes and SHOVE 'em down your throat! "

Bob dragged her closer to the screaming as they entered and saw a little baracade of blankets with you in the middle screaming and crying. He let go of the girl and gently picked you up while turning to the girl slightly panicked " They been cryin' for 6 hours now and I can't find what's wrong, Now help me so they can stop! " she made her way towards you and held you close as they started to try and calm you down, which proved difficult from bob death staring them.

Slowly but surely you calmed down and looked up at the girl " Th-There we go, just tired aren't you? " she slowly rocked you back and forth to sleep as bob loosened up before taking you back and mimicking her movement while talking to you. She slowly made her way out of the door and bolted for the front door ' Finally! Freedo- ' it was short lived as they were yanked back by their hair and had their mouth covered " Now where do you think yer' goin'? I can't have you living after what you saw. . . . " she screamed, but being muffled, as bob dragged her to the basement.

As you grow older into the time frame of crawling or walking he had to start buildin' baracades!

Man saw you crawling for the first time and was starstruck! Until he noticed his knife hanging a LITTLE too close to the edge. Baracade numbro 1!

Now seeing as you are the child of a man who most definitely has ties to a certain cult and is definitely non-human in some way can he REALLY be surprised the first time you crawled on the ceiling and were over him while he tried to sleep?

Yeeeaaahhhh wall crawling? Be glad you haven't been stabbed or accidentally thrown when you fall off at random points

In total there are 13 baracades and 5 wall crawling stoppers (He got proper baby proofing materials later down the road, don't worry)

Ontop of the wall crawling is the, and in order of how he found out about them, Glowing eyes, Locking your jaw on anything that's flesh (R.I.P finger's from the chew toy) sounds like a demon escaping everytime you cry, demonic animal noises, and then finally you having surprisingly sharp teeth!

Bob held a camera as he set it up while setting you across the room " Ok, Come to papa! " you looked at him dumbfounded for a minute before starting to attempt to make your way towards him " That's it! Ya' can do it! " finally you started to crawling and his eyes got star's in them " There you go! Come on! " you were about half way before the lights went out and both your eyes started to glow " Oh shi- " before he could finish he heard you on the walls making those demonic noises that stuck in his nightmares " SHI-SHOOT! WHERE'D I PUT THE NET!!!! " he grabbed the little net bed as he tried finding you on the wall's.

" (N/N) WHERE ARE YA'! COME OUT FOR PAPA! " he went for the kitchen first until he heard you crawling on the ground in the living room then on a wall again, he went from room to room with you one step ahead of him until finally he decided to return on the power and look for you. " There now I can- " he covered his ears at the screech you let out from your guys room

' NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo!!!! ' he slammed open the door expecting to find blood from you getting his knife but instead found a broken bone and slightly chipped tooth. He let out a sigh of relief before cradling you and trying to calm you down ' I really gotta' get 'em some soft chew toys. . . . '

When you got to the stage of being able to speak and stand he is the type of man to try and make you say Dada but instead you say Mama. Also becomes VERY protective and cautious once you start walking.

Around this time he'll try to hunt more since when you were a baby he couldn't leave you alone so he was limited to hunt around him instead of far out. Also will refuse to take you with him no matter how big of puppy dog eyes you give him.

Never excluded sneaking out and following him when he didn't take you!

It was 8:00 and bob had finished getting his hair slicked back and painting his face, you were put to bed and should be asleep by now. He had been hungry for about 4 weeks now but can you really blame him? He had to take care of his little ray of sunshine that's you! " * Sigh * Finally, I can go out and get me some meat. Don't need to worry about littl' (Y/N) tryin ta' come along eitha' " He made his way out the front door not noticing two glowing eyes watching on the ceiling or hearing the little demonic giggle that came out of you while following after Bob.

------Time skip------

Bob pinned his victim onto the wall while digging his knife as far as he could into their abdomen while letting out a holler of laughter. " HAHAHA HAHAHA!!!!!! Oh how I've MISSED this! " he pulled the knife out as the victim sprayed blood from his mouth onto his clawed hand, they dropped limp as Bob released them to the ground before pressing his knee down into the wound while placing his knife into their neck. " Did you know- "

" MAMA! "

.

.

.

.

.

.

" W-Wha- " before the victim had more of a chance to speak bob squeezed their throat to make them pass out before turning to their littl' sunshine who ran up to him while making grabby hands " Mama mama!!!! Up up! " he picked you up with a big and slightly concerned smile, " Now how did you get here littl' lamb! " he could be mad another time. Rn, he just needs to take you home and bring the body with him " Mama, can I help? " bob was caught off guard but slowly he gave you a soft smile " Of course ya' can, just help papa with the body. " " MAMA! " he would have to find a way to break you out of the ' mama ' thing eventually, all that mattered at the moment was getting home and avoiding the approaching police.

He tries and take you out with him on peaceful walks and sometimes hunting since you will also most likely pick up cannibalism from bob and have his more sadistic traits, but you can cover them well like him too.

Since you now talk and walk he of course brings you little trinkets and gives you you're own room if you want one! If you don't he will build shelves from already broken ones or steal one for all your little gifts and finds. ( Has a secret compartment in his sweater where he keeps your drawings for himself 🤭)

He let's you keep whatever you want from a hunt and if you want something from a store he'll make sure to dress you up and wear a disguise so you can go shopping.

He also tries his best to pick up on sewing and knitting for you and himself. He remembered how much you loved watching people make things but never brought it up because you were so shy about it, so he surprised you with a semi wearable scarf! Since then he's been trying to do more but still needs practice.

You were waiting at the door for bob to show up again, you sadly couldn't got hunting with him but he promised to bring you back something special! Slowly you were loosing the battle of sleep until the door opened " Mama! " you never let him live the name down as you tried to jump up on him " Hey! How'd my little hell spawn hold up da' fort? " you straighten up while saluting to him " Guarded and secure! I even caught you a present! " you ran off to bring your gift over as bob set the multiple bags down on the fixed dinning table.

As you came back bob was slightly shocked to see the heavily bleeding and unconscious person you dragged along with you " I saw them in the woods lining the house and they tried to break in! " bob let a smile adorn his face, on that didn't look so crazy and forced, before picking you up and spinning you around as you giggled " Hahah! That's my girl/boy! " he set you down in a chair before pushing the bags towards you " Now you remember how I was gonna give you something special? Weeelllll I noticed you eyein' a few things in the store that you didn't grab sooooo- "

He didn't finish before you tore into the bags and started making excited demonic animal noises " Mama! Thank you! " you lunge to bob as he caught you and returned the hug " Anythin' for you my littl' sunshine. Now, how about I start dinner'? " " Yay! Dinner! "

Getting about 5-8 years old he allows you to venture out on your own but not to far to where he can't find you, but still you get to explore none the less. Of course you bring back things you find to bob which he cherishes with his life and makes sure to get you something back.

Buuuttttt your also a little rebel so you usually decide to go a LITTLE farther than allowed without him knowing.

This is also how you come across skid and pump one of the days you get lost and Bob's loosing his shit trying to find you and telling himself you're alright

Of course you make friends with the two and when you tell bob he is in a bit of a crossroad considering he tried EATING them last Halloween, But their your friends and he'll accept it eventually!

Are they allowed at the house? HELL NO! (Still sneak 'em in tho)

When he has a re encounter with the four people from last year because you were waving goodbye at the edge of the woods and he popped up to scold you for going out so far until seeing the four across the street. Cue awkward silence

Bob saw you waving towards the sidewalk across the forest and came up behind you with a worried but angry look " (Y/N) (M/N) Velseb. What are you doing out here? " " Mama! I was waving goodbye to my friends! " Bob turned to the sidewalk and froze as he saw the two familiar pumpkin and skeleton kid with two concerned parents. " Mama, can they come over for a play date PLEEEAASSSEEEEE!!!!!!!! " bob looked down at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could have imagined and felt his heart tighten as he looked back and forth between you and the others, finally he let out a sigh while looking at you " Fine. They can come but ONLY if you agree to tell me when to expect guest. Got it? " " Mhm Mhm! I got it! "

bob let out a tired sigh as you turned to tell skid and pump they could go over before happily climbing up to sit on his shoulders as you headed back leaving two very confused Lila and jaune behind with skid and pump feeling excited to have a new friend.

Now as I said, rebellious kid. Meaning you have gone into town which results in you getting both almost kidnapped by frank and having some very scary encounters with others.

Roy is a perfect example! Your first interaction was scary as shit for all of them cause you decide to pull the same did you know your old man pulled on them! Doesn't help you also have a Southern accent like him with a more deranged smile. Safe to say he don't wanna try shit with you

Other interactions that were tense at first are Frank, had tried bribing skid and pump with candy and you pulled off a head tilt with a smile which sent him driving, Dexter, you had met him when bob grounded you and he tried coming in through the front door, the cult, they had no clue of any ties between you and bob so they thought it was a good idea to try kidnapping you! Fucking. Not. Never came back to the house, and finally! Jack and john, you can use your imagination 🙃

Now of course once Jack and John find out you two are blood related (after you went to the police station because you lost bob on one of your hunts) they use you as bait every chance they get! Doesn't work out well though 🙂

You were currently sitting in a cell scared out of your mind and making the most eardrum bursting screeching anyone can imagine as you try to clue bob where you are. " Jesus! How the hell did that phsyco get laid and have this thing birthed! " John complained as you stopped and threw one of the pieces of the destroyed cell bed at him, he quickly ducked as you start giggling uncontrollably " That's not important! What is is that he shows up to try and get them out so we can catch him. " you started to actually loose your breath as you finally looked at the two with tears in your eyes while speaking " You can't catch mama! He's just gonna escape! "

You stopped laughing as the power went out and your eyes glowed as you started jumping up and down " Mama's here mama's here! " both men drew their guns as the turned on their flashlights trying to find him " Jack, get to the breaker box and turn on the- " before John could continue he was thrown across the room as Jack turned his gun and flashlight towards him, and oh BOY was bob pissed. He was in his signature costume drenched in blood and guts from what the flashlight showed.

" Did you know? " his voice was strained as his glowing eyes turned to jack before he was being held up by a claw around his throat " That you neva' fuck with a man who would do anythin' for his KID. " he blocked off more of Jack's airway before feeling a bullet got through his chest and hit Jack in the leg " MAMA! " you panicked slightly as you watch bob drop Jack and face towards the cowering John while smiling more pissed than ever " I'm alright sunshine! Just close yer' eyes and ears for me, well be home soon. " you followed his instructions as he lunged at John more determined than every to rip him piece by piece for putting you in a cell and trying to use you as bait.

This next section is for girl things, I'll do one for the boys but girls gotta be done first so I can get it out of the way

You have now entered teen years (11-18, sorry if you disagree) and guess what? You now have a period! Yaaaaayyyyyyyy........ Yeah god have mercy on anyone who hears the screams of demonic pain in the woods or enters the woods.

Bob has no experience whatsoever ever dealing with this subject so he is going to probably be the equivalent of a new dad panicking that his wife/girlfriend went into labor.

Tell him exactly what you need or this man will pop back up at the house with a human sacrifice ready for you to consume if it means he's safe from your wrath.

Be thankful he never dropped his sewing and knitting hobby cause you getting custom shit if it's certified help material

Bob had been pacing back and forth as he tried to think of how to help you as you were currently curled into a ball on his bed with blood all over your legs. He knew this day would come but he didn't think like this! Slowly you started to groan again as bob heard the slight clicks in it " Ok bob, what do you remember your ma' telling you and how ta' handle it. " he perked up when he thought he heard meat painfully came out of your mouth " Ok, I'll be back sunshine. Just stay tight and I'll bring ya' somethin' to help. " he exited the house now on a mission.

------Time skip------

You had been waiting for bob for about a hour now, the pain wasn't there anymore so you found it easy to shower and go about trying to stop the blood from getting everywhere. " I wonder why dad's taking so long..... " you chuckled slightly as you remember how you'd always say " mama " instead, just then the door opened with bob having a giant bag in his mouth while dragging a body behind him. He set the bag down before placing, who you recognize as a cashier, on the table.

" Ok I got whatever I could possibly think of before the police arrived and took me to a cell. " bob started pulling out all sorts of materials to help you before turning to look at you to see you facing the body " Dad, why did you bring a cashier? I thought we had enough meat? " he picked up the cashier before turning to you with a smile " For a offering so you don't kill me of course! " you almost laughed before composing yourself and looking at bob " Dad I don't need a sacrifice! Why in the world would you think I need a sacrifice???? " he scratched the back of his neck as you face palmed yourself not believing what was happening right now. " It's the thought that counts dad " you gave bob a hug as he hugged you back before turning to the now conscious cashier and punching them unconscious.

Hormones is 100% something he can't help you with even if he tried, but he's 100% gonna be your gossip buddy and do runway modeling for you if you pick up a habit of designing clothes or do things to help in anything you pick up (I can't help but imagine him striking a pose with duck lips as you laugh your ass off at his attempt at looking hot in a dress you made)

Having " The Talk " has got to be the only other time you've seen him visibly have to take more mental breaks than when he told you about cursing. Man was praying you'd stay little forever

He makes sure you drink your setting boundaries and respecting people who respect you juice 👏! (If you a Top he's gonna give you the finest gentleman juices in👏the👏world👏!)

One thing that's a constant he tells you is that no matter who or what you want to date he's gonna be happy as long as you are, so long as they pass his test! Also tells you if you do a secret relationship you better make it worth keeping it from your old man! And if they do something to hurt you or they weren't worth it YOU will be able to get all the revenge you want!

He really is just that dad who may not know anything about what happens when a girl matures but will happily try his best ever thought he knows absolutely nothing. Just don't bring up people drama cause you both gonna go and kill that person for dinner.

Bob heard the house door slam and saw you running up the stairs mumbling nope under your breath on repeat and red faced. He set down his book and glasses as he made his way up to your room that he gave you once you become 11, hearing you pacing and panicking made him slightly jog up and knock on your door as softly as he could. " Littl' lamb? Are you alright? Ya' ran up the stairs and were kinda' red. " " I-I'm fine dad! Nothing's wrong! " Bob was about to say alright but then something struck him like a hammer as he realized what was going on ' Right, she probably has a crush or her hormones must be going crazy. ' he opened the door as you stopped pacing and looked at him with some slight panic but tried to play cool as you smiled at him

" (F/N). I think it's time I talked to you about something. " you visibly tense as you sit on your bed while bob sits to your right " What do you need to talk about? " bob could see how tense you were before letting out a sigh and placing his hand on your shoulder " Listen kid, I know it might be hard now with all ya' hormones and feelings going haywire right now but, no matter what I'll always give ya' the same love I give ya' now. "

It was confusing to understand what bob was saying but you guessed you got it " Thanks dad? " that's when bob put on a smile before getting serious " But just so you know, if anyone hurts ya' or don't pass my test I ain't hesitatin' to kill 'em. And make a secret relationship' worth it! " finally you got what he was saying before and start laughing while bob tried to stay composed " I mean it! And make sure to get me some grandkids! " you laughed harder as bob slowly joined in.

Finally you both calm down and you give bob a hug as he wrapped his arms around you " Thanks dad. . . " " Anytime sweety'. "

Ok now that I've ran out of ideas for the girls it time for the boyz!!!!!!

First and foremost he is 10000% more prepared for this than anything for a daughter, I mean he had to go through this as well!

Boners and stuff of that nature is the easiest talk he's ever had to talk to you about. Man probably will give you the secret holy grail of how to hide a boner in any type of pants in this world

He still has the sewing and knitting hobby and I see him just crafting shit every teen boy would need to survive teen years. (ESPECIALLY if you get achne!)

He also gotta show you the groom my friends 🤌

It was around 10:00 and bob was on the verge of passing out from watching Kitchen Nightmares

(Fight me but he definitely watches it)

Until the scream of his son woke him up and had him running upstairs. He slammed open your rooms door as he searched around to find you sitting with the blanket over your head " (M/N)! Is everythin' alright!?!?!?!? " He made his way towards you and tried pulling down the blanket but you retracted and pulled it further on " Yup! Just a nightmare! " now bob knew this to be a lie so he had to think for a minute until remembering how old you were now.

" Son, pull the blanket off yer' face. It can't be as bad as some of the victums' I've seen. " Slowly but surely you pulled the blanket down to your shoulders as bob sighed with a slight smile on his face making his way towards you " Son I know you probably already know what's happenin' and I know this is probably scary but it's not as bad as it could be! " knowing how embarrassing but comforting this would be he pulled out a photo and handed it to you. " No way. Is that- " " Yup! That's my' freshman year picture. . . . " It showed a much younger bob with much longer hair than what he has now, slightly skinnier but still chubby body, and OMG he had a punk phase.

(YUP!, I feel like starting shit and just like with Kitchen Nightmares you can fight me because I'll die on these hills!)

But the one thing that had you in shock was to achne that lightly went all over his face " Go on, get it out yer' system! " and get it out of your system you did. When you finally calmed down as bob re-took his very much embarrassing high school photo, you look up at bob as you sideways hug with a smile on your face " Thanks dad, you really are the best dad someone could ask for. " Bob smiled as he hugged you back to the best of his abilities " Anytime. Now I gotta show ya' some tricks I learned for groomin'! "

Now, same rules apply with hormones. He may be able to give advice but he's not going to be fully there. Also applies with the interests, he will play basketball like he's 19 again until his leg gives out and your now trying to get him in the house so you can have him sleep like he's 80.

" The Talk " was so weird for you because he was bringing shit up that you ain't never fucking image goes with puberty. He just got no filter between what is happening simplified and what's happening with too much detail!

You getting your respect women juice and your gonna get your beat anybody's ass if they disrespectful juice! Man raising a gentleman! (If your a bottom he's gonna make sure your a power bottom, Mama don't raise someone who don't say what they want)

Dating rules and secret relationship rules still apply along with the revenge. This man is VERY supportive

He's all and all better at handling a boy than he is at handling a girl because this man is one of the most unprepared people possible for a daughter than you can ever imagine.

Bob had set down some plates as he made his way up to your room knowing you would have sneaked into the window to avoid him, but can you blame him? He's gotta worry when you have a temper that's almost got you and sometimes him caught (But he's proud). Getting to your door he heard you throwing things around the room while talking to yourself. He knocked as loud as he could which caused the room to go silent. " (M/N)! I'm coming in the room! " " Dad NO! "

Bob opened the door to a absolute mess, everything was thrown about or some destroyed as you stood in the middle gripping at your hair " (M/N)! WHAT'S WRONG!?!?!? " Bob ran to you, grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards him. You froze and went stiff as you started to well up tears " N-Nothing I just- I- " bob wrapped you in a tight hug as he tried to calm you down while you cried, calming down bob looked at you again and asked what was wrong. Letting out a sigh you looked away from him " I. . . . . I got a crush...... "

Bob got a smile on his face as he let you go and put his hands on his hips " Well who's the lucky gal'! " You rubbed your arm feeling nervous as bob looked confused, then he slightly went wide eyed as he let out a sigh putting his hand on your shoulder " Son. Listen. " you tensed up expecting the worst " I don't care who ya' love or what ya' love. Your still my kid. I'll be there for ya' no matter what. Just know if they dare hurt ya' anyway possible or don't fly with me I'm killing 'em. "

You smile as he hugged you, slowly returning the hug and looking up at him " Thanks dad...... " " Of course, just get me some grandbabies! " you laughed while going red as bob joined in with you before letting you go " Now, tell me about the boy who got my littl' devil's heart! "

Now gender neutral teenage stuff because I've got what needed to be divided slightly (Of course it's gonna be short so I can end my misery because my fingers hurting)

Kidnapping and going out hunting is going to be the most common things to happen.

Bob doesn't always go to your rescue every time though cause you handle yourself pretty well sometimes, RIP Jack and John's goddamn wallets from the hospital trips 💀

You honestly just get alot more freedom than expected but he still worries so you always gotta keep him updated every 6 hours

Bringing anybody home you like so he can meet them or a photo is a MUST. Don't want them getting accidentally killed!!!! Although it might sometimes be on purpose......

I imagine him starting to get you to be more social and him also trying as well while also being in disguise (I realized I forgot to mention this but bob will age just not as quick as you think he will)

You both walked down the park path making jokes and enjoying some quality time before night, since bob or you both would leave on your own seperate hunts. Sitting on a nearby bench bob gave you a tired lazy smile as he tried to catch his breath " I told you the hoodie was a bad idea. Besides nobody's here! " you opened your arms to make a point as bob let out a breathy laugh " I know kid, but I ain't as yong' as I used to be. I'm almost 100 you know? " you rolled your eyes at Bob's over exaggeration before sitting next to him " Lies. You look like your in your 60's. "

" Oh really? " bob looked at you before narrowing his eyes " How old do ya' think I was when you were a kid? " you crossed your arms as you looked at him " 34 " bob gave you a smile before leaning back on the bench " Wrong kid, 61. " you sprang up from your spot and got in front of him " WHAT!?!?!? How are you just now getting streaks of gray in your hair!?!?!? "

Bob let out a short laugh before looking back up at you " Have ya' ever wondered why ya' can do what you can do? " " Yes but I ju- " then it clicked " You were a cult member!?!?!?!? " bob stood back up again before giving you a smile and walking into the woods " It's almost night. We betta' head back. " you stood in stunned silence before quickly running up to bob sputtering on your words " HOW CAN YOU BRUSH THIS OFF!?!?!?!? "

Now to the faithful day somebody steals his baby's heart! Aka the day he becomes the most hardest man to please when you try dating someone.

Partners are a VERY hard thing to come across when you are the daughter of a notorious killer and killer yourself, plus the police and everything doesn't help either.

So saying you ACTUALLY found someone who isn't trying to collect some sort of bounty or apart of the cult he is V E R Y on guard. The first interaction feels like a stand off in the wild west between the two.

Now of course he'll want to know how you met up, so for your sake and theirs lie. Say you met in the park or somewhere instead of the truth which is you saw them on a killing spree and they saw you.

Staying for dinner is like a spin the wheel for how you will compromise dinner with bob. Human meat is DEFINITELY off the table so finding a substitute is key to them actually staying.

Overall this man ain't gonna chill until he's certain they can be trusted

The air in the room was heavy and felt like a snake, almost ready to tear out the poor boy/girl next to you who had a all cheery look. Bob sat across from you two and was silently death glaring them while you tried to think of a way to defuse the situation " Dad, this is (R/N). There my Boyfriend/Girlfriend. " bob looked at you briefly before looking back at the boy/girl next to you " So, (R/N). How did ya' meet my daughter/son/kid? " he was trying to scare the kid in hopes he'd give bob a reason to gut them on the living room floor.

" Oh! I had met them one night when taking a stroll around the park, they were alone and I was curious so I introduced myself and the rest is good memories. " you could hear the imaginary hammer hit one nail into a coffin with their name on it as you decide to quickly chime in to stop another one being hammered " It was after I left to hang out with Skid and Pump! It was beautiful outside and I didn't want to head home just yet. We hanged out for a while until I headed back and we just kept meeting up there. " That's when Bob's eyes got a sadistic look before he started rapid firing questions at your boyfriend/girlfriend.

" How often would they stay at your house? "

" Sometimes for 2 day's. "

THUMP. 2 nails

" How did ya' know where to meet up? "

" They would text me when and where before 6. "

3

" How did ya' already know where we live? "

" I've been inside before "

4. Bod started going for his knife.

" Do you know what we do for a livin'? "

" I've been told "

5. You kept your hand stead on your own knife.

" Do ya' know who I am? "

" Bob velseb. Wanted serial killer and cannibal. "

6. Bob started drooling as he prepared to stab him.

" And tell me young' man/woman. Where exactly do ya' work? "

" The butcher shop right by your old restaurant! "

.

.

.

Bob smiled and looked towards you " They can stay fer' dinner! " you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you hugged bob with a goofy smile before turning around and saying " Welcome to the family! "

FINALLY!!!!!!! FUCKING. FINISHED. This has been in my drafts since 2022 and I have poured way too much energy into this that I'm about to cry in joy for finishing.

Anyway I hope you enjoy this read and that it isn't disappointing for how long this has taken me. Request are open and pinned with all my rules and such if you want to request something. BYE!!!!!

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

On Air [Chapter Two] Radio Lover [Alastor]

A/n: a change I made already was stating that Aelia becomes a Succubus. She does not, however, her promiscuous nature attributed to her demon form, giving her a Succubus-like appearance and nature. When I created her, I made her loosely based on Albedo from Overlord, appearance-wise. I'm new to the fandom, so I am bound to make mistakes.

Regardless, I hope you all enjoy the story.

Warning(s): mentions of death and execution, pain, Hazbin Hotel lore, public sexual themes, gun usage, language, mention of cannibals, magic, demons/sinners, original female character, the OC is a serial killer, blood consumption (in a potion), dark content.

Tag list: @dndmaniac

No Minors Allowed!!

The pain of death was intense, so much so, that Aelia could not move. All of the air around her had faded away and no matter how hard she tried, she could not fill her lungs. Slowly she suffocated, sinking in what felt like a sea of molasses until her vision faded to black. 

Then, as though it had all been a dream, Aelia suddenly came to and gasped for air, greedily taking in as much as she could. Her lungs burned and her head felt congested, as though it might burst at any given moment. She had no idea what was going on, but one thing was certain, she was not in Tennessee anymore. 

As she lay on the cold, concrete ground between two tall buildings, she stared weakly up at the dark red sky. She had never seen such a color. It was ominous. For a moment, Aelia considered closing her eyes and letting her mind fade back into darkness, but the sound of moaning caught her attention. Someone was near.

Despite the pain, Aelia sat up. Her body felt heavy but she dismissed it as fatigue and stood on her trembling feet. A groan of pain left her. Why did her veins feel like they were on fire? 

I was executed, wasn't I? 

The last thing she remembered before she woke up was staring up at the ceiling in the execution chamber before she was knocked unconscious. It figures. Aelia felt every bit of what the injections did to her. So, how did she wind up in an alleyway?

Tottering toward the muffled voice, Aelia felt as though she was dragging something behind her, but upon witnessing the source of the former noise, her eyes grew wide in shock. A man with a cyclopean eye was being blown by in public as onlookers at the entrance to the alley watched on in awe and pleasure.

What the fuck? 

And stranger than that, the onlookers were beings straight out of a fantasy world. Anthropomorphic animals, humans with multi-hued skin, and gelatinous creatures; the list went on. Aelia must be dreaming. Or having a nightmare. 

She considered waiting until the alley was clear to leave, but she wanted more than ever just to escape the awkward situation before it got worse. As she wandered closer, the one-eyed man took note of her and grinned.

“Ya want a taste, darling? Make this a threesome.”

Aelia narrowed her eyes in disgust. 

“Not a chance in hell.” 

Besides, her heart belonged to someone else. The thought of his name alone made her heart race. 

“Where do ya think you are?” The man remarked. 

What the hell did that mean? Aelia shook her head and stormed past him.

“Ain't neva seen a succubus turn down cock. It's your loss, bitch.”

Again, she was left in wonder, but as she passed through the crowd of onlookers, evading the wandering hands of a pig-like man, she came to realize that she was soon to dismiss the man’s remark. 

The area she woke up in was in utter disarray. People were running around out of control; she saw one person shoot another right across the street. 

Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore. 

Or Earth for that matter.

A sudden sharp pain shot up Aelia’s side, and upon turning her head, she realized that someone had bumped into her. Yet, she did not feel them brush her. To her horror, a light gray wing with light blue tipped feathers rose into view. Aelia gasped. 

Hurrying over to a store window, she looked at her reflection, unfamiliar with the person she saw. Was this her? It couldn't be. Her hair was long, wavy, and light gray. The hazel-green eyes that she got from her mother were now light blue and the sclera surrounding them was black. Then to matters worse, she had two pairs of wings on her lower back and a set of white horns that enveloped her head like a circlet.

This has got to be a nightmare. 

Running her hand along one of the wings, it flinched to Aelia’s touch. It felt as though it were an extension of her body, though she reckoned it was. What was she? The one-eyed man’s slur drifted back to her; a succubus. Strange…she did not look or feel like one. 

Aelia took an uneasy breath and raised her hand to brush back the fringe covering her right eye, but as she did, she noticed a tattoo of red symbols circling her wrist. They looked almost like vèvès, but why were they around her wrist?

“Where am I?”

“Pardon me,” a feminine voice cooed. “But did I hear correctly? You do not know where you are.”

Aelia diverted her eyes from the shop window to a woman with a wide shark-like smile and pitch-black eyes. Her elegant yet ghostly features startled the winged woman, but regardless, she shook her head in agreement. 

“Why dear, take a look around, you are in Hell,” she chuckled while placing her hand against your chest. 

Aelia paled at the thought, but honestly, it made sense. With her sins, she did not expect to go to Heaven. 

I thought I would be with him though. 

Her heart raced but at the same time, it ached.

“Close your eyes, my dear, and do not sulk. You will see me soon enough.”

Alastor’s last words Aelia took to heart. Was Hell where he had intended her to go? Perhaps he had lied to her. She felt faint.

The pale woman, Rosie, raised a thin brow in curiosity. Leaning her long neck forward, she eagerly took in her scent. It had been a long time since she had smelled the living world on a person; of petrichor and slightly sweet earth. She smelled delicious. 

Mixed in, however, was the familiar scent of blood and magic.  

“I see now,” Rosie stated. She had made a deal. And with Alastor to her shock. Shame. 

A realization suddenly dawned on the Overlord. 

“Oh my, where are my manners? My name is Rosie.”

She extended her hand which Aelia hesitantly took, giving her a good look at the vèvès around her wrist; the Radio Demon’s magic.

“Do a lady a favor and escort her home, would you? I'll make it worth your while,” Rosie offered. 

Aelia was not certain she could trust the wide-smiling woman, but there was an air of kindliness about her that put her a little at ease. Besides, she was more than capable of protecting herself if she needed to.

“Of course.”

Rosie chuckled and continued down the street. Cannibal Colony was not far. As the two walked in silence, Aelia took a moment to steal herself. There was a lot to take in, and honestly, all of it felt like a bad dream. Who knew Hell was so colorful? It was a bit frightening, to be honest. 

“Don't lose your pluck, my dear. I still need you.”

Did she fail him? Surely this is not where he wanted her to end up. Though, thinking about it, Alastor being a denizen of Hell made sense. Aelia knew he was not a product of the abuse; he was real. An angel or a demon, the former is what she believed, however. But hell, angels did not condone murder. Did they?

“Stay close to me, Miss Aelia,” Rosie ordered. “As quaint as it is here, you do not want to wander off on your own, especially dressed like that.” 

Aelia raised a brow. What was wrong with the way she was dressed? She still had on her prison attire, so she reckoned Rosie had a point. 

An old-timey town came into view, plucked straight from the early 1900s. It was quaint, as Rosie had stated, but what concerned Aelia the most was the town sign, which declared that she was in ‘Cannibal Colony’. Fuck. Where did she let Rosie take her? 

The few people who passed her by, dressed in elegant attire, gave Rosie and her a wide berth, but that did not stop them from eyeing the winged woman like a piece of raw meat.

“Morning, Miss Rosie,” a wide-smiling gentleman greeted her as he approached. “I see you brought back a succulent-looking guest.”

Rosie chuckled, resting her hand against her chest. 

“And a guest she is. Treat her as such.”

The man’s smile faltered a bit, but he took his hat off to Aelia and then hastened down the street. The latter found this weird but she did not comment on it. Whoever Rosie was, the denizens of ‘Cannibal Colony’ did not look down on her. She was not sure if this was a good thing or not. 

“And here we are,” the said woman declared, raising a pale hand toward a charming little store with a striped awning. 

The sign above the door read: Franklin and Rosie, Emporium.

“You live here?” Aelia asked. 

“Mixed-use property is beneficial,” Rosie remarked. “And I like to look after my assets.”

Aelia could understand that. But what sort of investments did the elegant woman own? Emporiums often cover a wide range of products. 

As they approached, Rosie snapped her fingers and the double doors opened. Aelia was in awe, even more so when she saw the interior of the establishment. It was gorgeous with a wide variety of different goods; everything from clothing to vintage radios. 

A familiar style caught her eye, and Aelia narrowed her eyes in fondness. Much to her dismay, the Atwood Kent brand she owned was confiscated by the authorities when she was arrested. But during her final hours, instead of a last meal, she requested it back, getting to speak to Alastor one last time. 

Unbeknownst to her, Rosie was watching in interest, taking note of the neon pink heart that replaced the pupil in her right eye. 

How curious.

Her wings even raised in elation. It was sort of cute. 

“You know, at first I thought you were a succubus or a fallen angel, but you don't look much like either up close,” Rosie mentioned. 

Her wings were placed at her center of gravity and feathered. No, she was not a Hellborn Succubus, but she looked like one. Her body even reacted to arousal as though she was one. There was only one more explanation Rosie could think of. 

“What I have come to learn here is that a sinner such as you takes on the appearance and abilities of whatever aspects they had during their former life. You must have been a promiscuous one.”

Aelia hummed.

“I suppose. But after a while, someone stole my heart. 

Rosie chuckled. What did the Radio Demon say to her? He wormed himself deep into her head, it seemed. The overseer of Cannibal Colony raised a brow in interest. While she was curious as to what Alastor had been up to - his seven-year absence was a thing of mystery - she did not pry. The incurable romantic he made a deal with probably did not know either. 

The clack of heels on the floor diverted Aelia’s attention to a woman similar in appearance to Rosie with brown hair. Her smile widened as she saw the newcomer. 

“You brought home a treat, I see.”

“A guest, Franklin,” Rosie corrected. She sauntered behind the counter. “What were you up to?”

Franklin eyed the winged sinner a moment then turned to her business partner.

“Counting the stock before extermination day. Lucifer only knows how chaotic the colony gets before then, buying up everything on the shelves.” 

Aelia raised a brow. What was extermination day? 

“It's business,” Rosie chuckled. “If you are not currently busy, I need you to retrieve something for me; that red vile on my desk.”

Franklin left without a word to retrieve it. After all, the two could finally be rid of it. 

A month ago, one of Alastor’s minions wandered into the shop and gave Rosie a potion in a red vial. The minion stated that a lost soul would soon come to Pentagram City, one that could be recognized by the Radio Demon’s mark. It was not certain whether Rosie would meet them before Alastor’s return, but if she happened to, then as a favor to him, he asked that she give them the vial. 

It was after all just a simple means to transport Aelia to wherever he currently was. Rosie could easily transport her, but she did not know where Alastor was staying. 

Once Franklin returned, she handed the Overlord the vial and hurried off to finish her current job not knowing that soon her number would be up.

Rosie turned the glass vial and sat it upright on its pointed base, chuckling as Aelia stared in awe. 

“This is a gift.”

Reminded to never look a gift horse in the face, Aelia picked the vial up and widened her eyes as the vèvès around her wrist began to glow.

“What is in this?” She asked. 

“A little magic mixed with blood and some water to help it go down easier,” Rosie answered honestly.

Aelia nearly groaned in disgust.

“Thank you. I guess.” 

Rosie chuckled. 

“You are most welcome. It was not me who wanted you to have this vial though.”

Aelia thought so. 

“Who? Was it the one who put the vèvès on me?”

It made the most logical sense, considering the symbols reacted to the potion. 

“There is only one way to find out. You need to drink it,” Rosie remarked. She reached over the counter and brushed the sinner’s hair behind her ear. “But first, let's make you more presentable.”

Snapping her fingers, the clothes that Aelia wore manifested into a navy blue evening gown with white lace. She was not much of a dress person, but she appreciated being out of her prison clothes. Her wings even fit through holes in the back.

“Thank you, Miss Rosie.”

The said woman motioned with her hand for Aelia to continue. With hesitation, she did so, removing the stopper from the top and putting the vial to her lips. As she drank, Rosie tilted it back making sure she consumed it all. The taste made her want to gag.

“Now what?” Aelia asked with a grimace.

She did not feel any different, though her tattoo was glowing. 

“Goodbye, dear. I do hope we meet again,” Rosie remarked with a wide grin. 

Before Aelia could attempt a response, the world around her vanished. Then in the blink of an eye, she materialized in the living room of a lodge. 

That was…quick.

But where was she?

Aeila sauntered over to the closest window and looked outside. The sky still appeared red, so she assumed she was still within the city limits, though she could not see a single house in either direction; all she could see were leafless dead trees. She had not noticed it before, but the sky had a large pentagram in it.

As she took in the scenery, a sudden dark and ominous shadow loomed over her. Then all at once, the buzzing sound of radio static filled the air. 

“Salutations,” a voice greeted. “I admit, I was not expecting you so soon.”

Alastor. 

Aelia felt faint. Her wings raised in elation and she turned quickly in the hope that her mind was not playing tricks on her. 

In the doorway to the kitchen, a slim well-dressed man with a shark-like smile stood. He tilted his head to the side, observing her. Based on her appearance and the fact she was standing before him, he reckoned Rosie had found her. 

“Didn't I tell you not to fret?” 

Aelia widened her eyes, unaware of the hearts in her pupils. It was him; he was standing before her.

“You're not just a voice on the radio?”

“Indeed I'm not. But let's not sweat the details,” Alastor remarked. “Tell me, how do you feel about Jambalaya?”

Aelia licked her lips. A strange yet pleasing heat consumed her. 

“I'm starving.” 

[slashthrashandcrash]

My tire blew out today. The towman, for whatever reason, kept getting my location wrong and the road rangers were my knights in shining honor when they stumbled upon my car on patrol. Then, the tow arrived and was driving after me after they put in the spare tire, calling out that his ride was still free. Now, if this was late at night and the highway was suspiciously empty, which slashers / killers do you think would be after me and how could I fight them off? The tow guy is, of course, no help

This sounds so funny as a time sensitive question like "I'm not saying I am stranded on a desolate road with no help for miles but if I were how could I possibly fend of a serial killer that's banging on my car window? Please respond, asking for a friend."

Danny/Ghostface would certainly be an option if he was already on the move between towns or states, just a nice young man wanting to help get you somewhere safe and accidentally making a few wrong turns...then next thing you know, you're set loose to run free through the woods while he tails you, knife in hand. Your best option is to hope you find the main road before he finds you, but even then you'd have to pray there's even another motorist driving at this hour who'd be willing to stop at your distress. Just because you were stupid enough to get in a car with a stranger doesn't mean they are lmao.

The Sinclair brothers are a classic, of course -- that's kind of their whole schtick is helping out poor stranded motorists, offering to fix up their car while they come on into town for a spell, maybe check out the local wax museum to kill some time. Gotta be honest, your odds probably aren't that great since it's a 3v1...you might just have to grab a tire iron and start swinging if you want a fighting chance.

Michael can drive but he's a fucking menace on the road, he'll be ramming into you and trying to slam you off into a ditch or the median. You need to either outpace him or hopefully lose him with a few sharp turns, otherwise you'll be battered and trapped when he gets a tire to blow out or your transmission to die. Being wounded in a metal cage is the last place you wanna be when he comes stalking over to your wreckage. Although, he might more so be targeting the tow driver behind you, they usually wear those navy coveralls...

And there's a few more typical slashers who have a similar con to the Sinclairs; the Firefly family, the Sawyer family, whatever the cannibal inbred family's name was in The Hills Have Eyes -- these cases? 100% fucked. If you don't floor it and get the hell out of dodge the first second you spot any of 'em on the side of the road, you've practically sealed your fate. And it won't be pretty, or sexy, or fun. For you, anyways.

For a bit of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, Tiffany Valentine. For no reason other than you're practically alone on the quiet roads and she's bored. Just a quick little fender bender and then her nail file across your throat. Frankly, you should be honored to be killed by her, just let it happen, say thank you with your gurgling dying breath. Throwback to Urban Legend, but also Brenda. Who doesn't love a good story about flashing highbeams in the rearview mirror? You're golden if you remember how the legend goes and how the girl survives (even if the killer isn't the one in your backseat), or better yet, just don't flash your lights when you see her driving in the dark in the first place.

Purely DBD killers though, I'd really only pick out Legion, namely because they would have plenty of reasons to target you. They want your car, your money if you have it, and hell, they'll go ahead and take your life while they conveniently have it. The bad news is it's 4v1, the good news is they're all stupid teenagers. You have a 50/50 chance of being able to either outsmart them or just fend them off long enough to escape, but don't be surprised to find 4 different blades in your gut because you refuse to cooperate with their robbery.

[diseaseriddencube]

cutthroat has the 'tism headcanons

"uwu Rae isn't it kinda gross to give the serial killer character autism headcanons like isn't that villainizin-" shut up, i'm autistic, i would kill people too, murder is sexy and autistic and-

he fidgets, like, you can see him playing with his knifeys when he's got nothing else to do, and swinging his leggys when he sits

he's kind of a weirdo, like very much a weirdo, in the sense that he probably thinks he's pretty normal and just doesn't realize he's acting like a bit of a weirdo

special interest: murder, red things (i know he doesn't talk much actually but i'm sure you could get him talking like crazy if you asked him about why he likes red things) (and you know what, this is a more personal hc, but he had a previous SpIn in magic)

weird fucking posture, this is a stage play thing but if he doesn't have to stand, he likes to crouch (L vibes tbh)

actually another stage play thing which is basically fidgeting but i mean just LOOK at this movement, this is such a happy stim

are we even gonna mention that he's probably a picky eater, i understand narratively that their food choices were to show off character traits, but he's presumably been unfed in days and he chooses marshmallows of all things. he mentions liking his marshmallows to look a certain way as well (we're gonna ignore the cannibalism aspect <3)

his emotions seem pretty intense and sensitive, but he actually has a flat affect most of the time

he seems kind of socially inept, i know swindler is a special case but there's almost no consideration to what she says or what his actions/words would invoke in her, and he literally never talks to anyone else

^adding to this, he has no concept of personal space at all (though this may due to him thinking he literally owns her)

not to be infantilizing but I don't think we can ignore the obvious childish traits coded into his character (commonly associated with autism)

he seems to get bored really easily, like he can't stand just sitting around waiting

he seems kinda stupid but he does think outside the box, as seen with him using his knives to break the barrier when 10000 IQ hacker had nothing to offer and swindler was...panicking -_-

he gets hyperfocused on a task and ignores literally any pain in order to continue that task

probably has low interoception??? like he hardly seems to notice pain, and if any character would complain about being hungry, it would be him...but he doesn't, so i get the feeling he may just Not Feel It

also you cannot tell me that a character who dresses like this, doesn't have some sort sensory preference. I assume his clothes are weighted (due to both layers and knives) and the looseness is his specific preference for comfort

^ and he wears fucking leggings under his shorts, which is literally something i do when i hate the feel of the shorts/pants, i put a layer of good texture leggings under

object empathy > human empathy: he's way more visibly distraught over a beloved object (knife) getting damaged than....hundreds of human lives (and yk what, he kinda views Swindler as an object too)

^ but really this is like the most no-empathy having motherfucker i've ever seen

cluelessness about normal social things like not knowing what dating is (....ignoring the actual obvious reason he wouldn't know what it is)

and TW but self harm and suicide are actually somewhat common in autism and i mean-.... kind of-confirmed cutter and manga-confirmed suicidal person

autistic people like stacking things, and well, we all know what he spent ages stacking >:)

inability to lie/extreme honesty: he literally doesn't even hide his desire to kill swindler he just straight up asks for permission, and his attempt at lying is...pathetic to say the least

his vocabulary also seems....limited

unusual sleeping habits: he sleeps in a bathtub for god's sake

echolalia: "red! red! red!"

[mysticaldreamwitch]

Its in the Blood

This was suppose to be a fanfic, but as I am currently in no headspace to write it, any of you creative people out there can feel very welcome to make this idea your own!

Please me sure to tag me tho, I'd love to read where you take this concept!

Also TRIGGERWARNING for child murder, cannibalism, incest and murder

The Line of Atreus is really fecked up guys x.x

This is about the movie Remainder from 2015, starring our beloved Tom Sturridge in the main role as a nameless man, who looses his memory after a crash and desperately tries to reclaim it, using everything, anything and anyone at his disposal to do his bidding.

He starts off somewhat sympathetic, but in his ongoing mania, he rids himself of any moral or human notion, turning into a merciless killer in the end to get what he wants, and only realizing in a final moment of clarity, that he has been running in cirlces, and that he had just repeated everything up to the moment to which the crash occurred, making him loose him memory all again, indicating that this is an endless cycle, which the character has gone through before many times.

When I first saw it, I admit, I was quite baffled and perplexed by it all and I couldn't really make sense of it. I appreciated the movie for the craft, the camera, the lighting, the acting, everything was great, but the story left me feeling hollow in a way, filled with dread.

Perhaps other people like movies like this, the kind that depict a downwards spiral, and usually I watch it once, and thats it, but this one lingered in my mind, as it did something similar, but just different enough: The downwards spiral NEVER ends. He will always loose his memory, try to reclaim it, turn into a horrible void doing it, just to be struck down and start from zero again. It has no beginning, no end, no meaning, besides the mental and physical suffering of this person and everyone around him. And that, for a lack of a better word, fucked me up. I do NOT like that, cause it just made me feel so helpless. Nothing is explain, nothing is clear, you just watch this human suffer, knowning the end of it will never come.

So it kind of got me thinking if there could be a reason for this, some kind of explanation. And I think there is perhaps an interesting viewpoint one could turn this into.

Maybe its not that interesting, idk, it is to me

Consider, the main character as a descent of House Atreus.

For explaination, the bloodline of Atreus, as well as his brothers, were cursed, first by the actions of the grandfather Tantalus, who served his son Pelops to the olympian gods for food, to test their omniscience. This action got him sent to Tartarus, a part of the underworld, where he is damed to stay in water he can never drink, under a tree with rich fruit he can never reach.

His temper was passed down to his son, who, after being reassembled by the gods as good as they were able to (this will be relevant later), went on to live a normal life. However when the time came to marry, he was not the only suitor for the hand of a princess, so he convinced a servant by the name of Myrtilus to saboage his rivals chariot, which drove the man into death. However, instead of rewarding him, Pelops pushed the servant down a cliff, so his secret may die with him. In his dying fall, the servant uttered a curse on Pelops and his entire lineage, that the gods shall punish them all.

Pelops went on to have three sons: Chrysippus, Thyestes and Atreus. The ladder killed they half-brother Chrysippus in order to get the throne, but soon grew unsatisfied, resulting in another fight, which lead to Thyestes taking the throne, an act which was later resolved through devine help, as the gods helped Atreus claim the thone.

However, Atreus soon learned that his wife and brother had an affair, an affront that enraged him so much, that he invited his brother for a feast, only later to reveal the meal servend was made of his brothers own children. His brother was exiled for the crime of cannibalism and sought revenge, looking for the help of an oracle, which told him to have a child with his own daughter, which would later kill Atreus.

He did as the oracle told him, but the mother abandoned the child, ashamed of its origin, and it was discovered by shepherds and brought to Atreus palace, where the boy was raised, only later to kill his grandfather/father, after Thyestes revealed the plot to his own brother.

However, at this point, Atreus already had children of his own, the most important being Menelaus and Argamemnon. You know...the guys that went to war with Troy over Helen of Sparta, Menelauses wife. They went out to kill Thyestes to get back their kingdom and succeeded in their goal.

Coming back to the beginning of the Trojan however Argamemnon had angered Artemis goddess of the hunt by killing one of the sacred deer and boasting about being a better hunter then her, something she didn't take to too kindly, as he made the wind still and the ships unable to sail. A sacrifice had to be made: Iphigenia, his first born daughter.

But of course Iphigenia also had a mother, Clytemnestra, twin sister to Helen. Enraged by the sacrafice of her daughter, she started an affair with Aegisthus (the incest baby of Thyestes and his daughter) and started to plot her husbands murder, which she executed in the night her husband returned from the war. She let him into a bath, where she stabbed him to his death.

However, of course, Clytemnestra and Argamemnon had more then one child, however only one son Orestes, who had taken away by his sister Electra (or was exciled, depending on the version), and raised by/with her, swearing revenge on the murder of his father.

Him and his sister planned the murder, and Orestes executed it, being cursed by his mother in turn to be haunted by the Erinyes, the Three Furies. After wandering the land with guilt in his heart for many years, the gods decided, that enough penance had been done and freed the man from the curse.

How as he have established, technically the curse should be cured, right? Well yes...and no. You see apart from the fact that most of the people mentioned before had siblings, male and female where barely their names are known, one significant person in this whole plot was not punished at all: Elektra.

Althought their is speculation, for the most part her whereabouts after the murder and during the brothers penance is unknown, and what happened to her finally is quite unclear. So let you propose this idea to you: The main character in Remainder as a descent of Electras bloodline.

This may seem like a strech, but considering how many children went barely or completely unnamed, especially if they were female (yey to that old greece, good job), there is a high chance, many descents were never cleared of the House of Atreus curse like Orestes was. Therefore, the curse is still active or simply lies dormant.

Perhaps one could entertain the idea, that it is spread throughout their children like Haemophilia, which is found primarily in men, due to the genetic defect laying in the X-Chromosome. It happens in women as well, but only rarely, when the other X has a malfunction in some capacity.

This is also the reason why I chose "In the Blood" as the title of this idea. Apart from it being an absolute banger song from the Hades videogame, I think it could be an interesting piece here as well considering its context of family and kin.

I linked it, give it a listen if you can, its amazing!

So the characters spiral and violent tendencies could be attributed to that curse, okay, but how did he end up in this repeating nightmare you ask?

Simple: He's in hell. Well Tatarus. Actually both. Lemme explain.

As mythology got convoluted over time, so could the underworld be one giant realm which consists of many parts, including the Greek Underworld, as well the the concept known as hell in Christianity. And as seen in the show Lucifer, it is not uncommon to imagine hell to be a place where people relive their worst parts of life.

But the people in Lucifer are aware they are in hell, thats the whole point of it , you'd say, and yes, that is correct. However, what if this is not for his own mind to realize, apart from that small moment right before it all starts again, but for someone else to watch, to be amused by it. Someone that habours a resentment towards him, or maybe his entire line?

Far strech I know, but bare with me. A never-ending punishment made of agony, dispair and the very short realisation that it is indeed a punshiment, that sounds quite like Tantalus himself I think. Totured in Tartarus for all eternity for what he did.

Oh, also, to come back to the Pelops thing, ha, don't think I forgot! I mentioned before that the gods tried to put Pelops together as much as possible, because, while all the other gods immediately knew they were tricked, the goddess Demeter, still grieving the loss of the daughter Persephone, ate part of Pelops shoulder, which was deplaced by an ovory shoulder crafted by Hephaistos. So all of Pelops decendence have a white spot on the back of their shoulder. A nice little detail, you might wanna include if you like.

So yeah thats it, that was my rant about this idea, aka me trying to comprehend this movie, cause my little brain can't accept that there is suffering like this for no apparent reason.

I'd like to know y'alls views on it and feel free to use the idea in your own writing if I feel like it, see you around!

witch x.

[creepypasta-archive]

Jeff the Killer vs The Rake vs Slender Man (The Operator)

by GodzillaFan1

Haven't posted something in a while! So as a gift here's this story that i had yet to even mention. a 3 way battle. As much as i love figuring out ways for jeff to survive these encounters i dont think i can find a way to do this one. So remains non-canon for now CW// vore?/cannibalism?/eating others, implied necrophilia, blades, violence, blood

Click below to read the original unedited story

The moon was at it's peak in the night sky as Jeff cleaned off his blade from that night's killing, smiling from ear to ear. The moonlight poured through the abandoned house's open bedroom window. It wasn't much, but it was enough to see the young girl's corpse from the corner Jeff was sitting in. She seemed short on the wooden table he'd set her on. She was his third kill this month and he still wasn't satisfied.

Jeff chuckled slightly as he arose from the corner, "Such a shame this happened, huh? I wonder who could've done this!" He uttered a loud, fake gasp and put his hand up to his face, "It was me! AHAHAHAHAHA!"

He stopped laughing and continued to circle the table looking down at the body, noticing all of her features. Blonde hair, thin body, long legs for a short girl. One eye was open and Jeff could see the bright blue in it. Her mouth hung open loosely and her head turned to the side. Her teeth were awfully crooked. Jeff stopped circling once he had reached her head. He rolled it so it was looking at him and he opened both eyes and stared into them intently. He jammed his knife into the table in anger.

"You no longer satisfy me!" He shouted. He cleared the body off of the table and put it in the closet with the other two, "I've got it! I'll kill in this town once more and move on."

He pulled his knife from the table and leapt out the open window into the darkness. The town was right along a lot of wood space and he figured he'd kill in a house along that tree line and use the woods for cover. There aren't any paths in these woods, but that was no problem. Jeff bobbed and weaved in and out of trees and branches not realizing he was moving deeper into the woods. When suddenly a loud screech pierced the night air. A lot like the sound of a metal fork being scraped against the side of a car. Jeff stopped.

"What the fuck?" Jeff said, "It must be my mind messing with me. After all, I am kinda cuckoo in the head hehehahahaHAHA." He stopped his laughter suddenly. He heard rustling behind him and whirled around, knife drawn. A low growl arose from the bush he was now facing.

WHOOSH! A large creature leapt from the bush and tackled Jeff to the ground. It was a pale grey being with no hair and empty, black eyes. The Rake. Jeff chuckled. "Oh, you like to play rough, do ya?" Jeff sneered. The Rake pulled back his razor sharp claws to strike and bared his sharp, blood-stained teeth. "Good. So do I."

Jeff swung his knife at The Rake and missed by an inch. The Rake had jumped off of him. It let out another fierce shriek similar to the one Jeff heard before.

"Damn, you're noisy. How about you say we wrap this up. I've got things to do." Jeff said and lunged at The Rake with his knife. He landed his hit this time and cut The Rake's arm. It hollered in pain as it locked it's sights on Jeff. It jumped at him and struck with one claw and missed, but quickly followed up with another and grazed Jeff's shoulder. Almost black blood was oozing its way out of the wound. Jeff chuckled. "I don't have time for these petty games. I've more important things to tend to." He whipped around and took off hearing the shrill shriek of The Rake slowly fading behind him. He had reached a clearing and he was laughing hysterically. Looking around, he saw no signs of The Rake, nor did he hear the things hollering. "Finally, some quiet." Jeff chuckled. He looked at the ground at a peculiar pattern of rocks.

A circle and an "X".

No sooner could he study the rocks, something struck him hard in the side and he went flying and smacked into a tree. He got up quickly and looked at where he was hit. He saw a tall man in a business suit and a black tie. The craziest part, though, was that the man had no face. Just pale white nothingness. He read about him. He knew he was called Slender Man. "HAHAHA! You look awfully funny there, Slendy. Are you a friend of that thing I fought before?" Jeff questioned. Slender Man cocked his head questioningly and shot out a tendril at Jeff which he easily avoided.

"Hmm.. This must be what struck me!" He exclaimed proudly. Slender Man shot another at him. Jeff sidestepped and swung his knife at the tendril, cutting off the sharp end. It shot back and Slender Man fumbled backwards. A shriek once again pierced the night air and The Rake burst into the opening, but was quickly snatched up by Slender Man. The Rake was held by the legs in one arm and one tendril. The Rake let out one final shriek. A thin line formed where Slendy's mouth should be and opened up exposing skinny, sharp teeth. Slender Man let out a loud hiss and pulled The Rakes legs apart, splitting it down the middle and threw the two halves askew as Slender closed its "mouth."

Slender Man looked back to where Jeff had been standing, but he was gone. No where to be seen. He heard a rustle in the tree behind his head and turned. Jeff leapt out at him shouting, "Go to sleep, Slendy!" But Jeff's attack had no avail. Slender Man had teleported and he hit the ground hard and lost his knife. He lay on his back and looked up. There he was. Slendy. Before Jeff could react, Slender Man picked him up by the throat with a tendril and brought him face level. Its mouth agape. Jeff smiled and tried to utter a chuckle before he met his fate. "Do your worst, Slendy!"

Slender Man showed some emotion and smiled with his sharp, long teeth. "Go to sleep, Jeff. Sleep forever." It whispered menacingly and tightened the grip around Jeff's neck until a snap cracked throughout the forest and The Operator dropped the smiling, limp body of Jeff the Killer.

[madeleine-w]

DBD Killers and Face Camping

Contains: Trapper, Huntress, Oni, Plague, Cannibal, Legion (Frank) and Ghostface

Warnings: None (except a bit of swearing )

The Trapper

Fuck no. I headcanon that this guy is basically in charge of the killers (I mean he obviously has no authority over any of them but you know what I’m talking about)

He’s been around since the beginning, he knows how to win this game

Usually puts a trap hidden near the hook and carries on looking for the others

Occasionally, when he hates the Entity even more than usual, he’ll put three or four traps around whoever he’s hooked — it’s his own special version of face camping :)

The Huntress

This is the only one I’ve been properly on the fence about, and truthfully it could go either way

Now Anna is an incredible hunter, we all know this, and she’s well aware that you have a better chance of catching your prey if you have multiple potential targets

She enjoys feeling like she’s eliminated all threats to her space and that’s easier to do if she leaves a survivor on a hook to chase the others

But there’s still that hunters’ instinct

She’s NOT happy about the idea of leaving her prey out of sight, especially knowing it’s likely someone will save it - it just feels unnatural to her, unlike much of The Entity’s Realm.

I’d say she usually doesn’t face camp (or at least tries not to) but sometimes she can’t help herself

The Oni

Lmao

This man must have some kind of ADHD because, upbringing or not, he can’t stay still

Like come on, he has demon dash and you’re gonna pretend he likes to stand about? No, Kazan is a ball of energy (and rage)

As soon as you’re hooked, he’s racing off to find the next poor sack of meat to string up

The Plague

Yes but in quite a loose way

She’ll stay in the general area and keep an eye on whoever she’s hooked, and would definitely attack the survivor who goes to help them

I can’t see her standing right next to the hook for ages

Which is probably a good thing cos she doesn’t smell like roses

The Cannibal

100% yes

Will facecamp for no reason, there are absolutely no tactics involved

The other killers have half-heartedly tried to explain that it just makes it harder for him to win the trial

He’s ignored them all

He’s just happy to be involved

Kate once complimented his mask and he unhooked her…

The Legion (Frank)

A deeply unhinged individual so who can really tell at this point

Usually he doesn’t face camp, kind of on the same wavelength as Kazan

He just has too much energy and races straight off

BUT this man’s instincts in trials are incredible and I will fight someone on this

He immediately knows when a survivor is about to be unhooked and will turn straight back round to attack whoever decided to play hero

(Will face camp Dwight with no hesitation, the only explanation anyone has ever gotten is “his face annoys me”)

The Ghostface

Generally speaking, no

Purely because there’s a limit to how much chaos he can cause while waiting for someone to come and unhook their friend

It’s much more fun to roam around and create more panic

However

Danny is a little shit and we all know it

So if he’s feeling particularly… playful, he’s much more likely to sit and laugh at you (and maybe stab your foot while you kick)

Has a whole bunch of photos of him holding a peace sign above the head of hooked survivors. At least he’s having fun I guess??

Feel free to send me any headcanon/one shot requests for any DBD killers or other slashers :)

[shirtlessfelix]

i was thinking the other day how dbd mechanics would work irl, and clothes, especially the girls flimsy ones, and like... surely the killers attacks would cut them. so please i've got a request for general hcs for the male killers: how would they react if their attack (or like a near miss) on a female survivor would cause her to get exposed? like breasts out or showing underwear etc? hope this makes sense. thank you!

teehee this is a fun one, I hope you like these!!

Male Killers React to Ripped Clothes

Suggestive | <50 words each

Blight: His reaction is much the same as any other, catching a glimpse at something he knows he's not supposed to see and ramming his head into a rock by accident. He'd want to hook her for a closer look.

Cannibal: He's curious, to say the least, but he knows he's not allowed to get excited like that. He'll be distracted for the rest of the trial and want to watch her from afar.

Cenobite: He can only expect as much from his chain-hooks, and really he would see it as an inconvenience in case a hook latches on to the loose fabric and lets her go too soon. A shame, really.

Clown: He gets the most excitement out of it, thinking that he might be able to get another tear in before the trial is over. He goes after them the whole trial, just wishing he could get some like the pathetic old fuck he is.

Deathslinger: He teases her about it and makes it known to everybody that something is showing, and he gets a kick out of her reaction. Nothing a thread and needle won’t fix—too bad he doesn’t want to fix it.

Demogorgon: He's a little sad, because it feels like he just ripped his favorite chew toy. He hopes someone will fix it.

Doctor: He just laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and the survivor won't know exactly why until he covers her up as he's carrying her to a hook.

Ghostface: He's just as amused as the Doctor is, except he'll stay behind and take a few photos before the trial ends. If he's lucky, he'll get a close-up shot.

Hillbilly: A chainsaw is bound to tear a few shirts here and there, but when it's a woman's shirt torn right down the front, his instinct is to look away and pretend he doesn't see it.

Legion/Frank: He would be kind of into it, thinking that she looks even better with less clothes on. Not that he would make a move, but it might cross his mind.

Legion/Joey: He's happy as long as he gets a good show out of watching her try to cover up, slowing herself down in the process and making it easier—and more entertaining—to finally catch her.

Myers: He truly thinks nothing perverse of it. The only thing he regrets is not swinging harder, since now he has to spend more time trying to kill her.

Nemesis: It doesn't register to him as anything particularly riveting since he's with his half-nude zombie friends all the time anyway. Maybe it's a bit more pleasing to the eye, though.

Nightmare: The Clown one, only he would try to get everybody's clothes ruined.

Oni: If the survivor is humiliated, then he considers it a job well done, but he'll kill her just as fast as anybody else.

Pyramid Head: He's a mixed bag with how he would feel. If it's a survivor he likes, he'll be tunnel-visioned on them as his imagination runs wild. Otherwise, it's simply a distraction, so he'll punish them for their indecency and move on.

Trapper: Assuming the tear is big enough, he might stop everything and try to help her fix her clothes, or give her something else to put on over it. He's a gentleman, after all.

Trickster: He'll tell everyone about it when the trial is over, wishing he had a camera like Danny so he could have taken pictures as well. He's definitely the least subtle.

Victor: He'd scream and run back to Charlotte for something to put over her.

Wraith: He would be even more embarrassed than the survivor and promptly cloak and run away, pretending that he wasn't letting his mind wander.

[wendimydarling]

Cover the Mirrors

Summary: Amber is earning a masters degree in mythology and folklore; when a handsome stranger sweeps her off her feet, she’s left wondering how, and struggles to keep up with his lifestyle.

Pairing: Vampire!August Walker x OFC (first person reader)

Word Count: 6826

Warnings: Alright, we ready to get into the menu of delights we will be reading today? Okay but seriously, if you are triggered by anything on this list, it is your responsibility to not read this work of fiction. The warnings are as follows: manipulation, subtle exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, mention of oral (male receiving), biting, clawing, choking, blood, male violence, gore, non-con, rape, spitting, fear play, primal play, breeding, mention of death, torture, and potentially cannibalism, if you squint.

A/N: Okay so this story is based off of this thread where @killjoy-assbutt-1112​ gave me a fic title, but I added another twist to it that I’d been brewing for months; I was excited about it but now I’m not. Whatever, I’ll give it to you anyway. Sources for my vampire lore came from here and here. Cover art was made by me; August was drawn by the amazingly talented @cheyentjj​ and has been used with her permission. Thank you so much to everyone who brainstormed with me, and a special thanks to @agniavateira​ for betaing! 

“If you look at the Slavic region, vampire folklore runs rampant. One especially interesting specimen is the Pijavica. The Pijavica (translated “leech”, or “drinker”) was a rare species of vampire— traditionally male, and a powerfully strong, cold-blooded killer. The potential for conception is most commonly believed to be through the incest of the deceased with his mother during his life, though some believe that one can be created through the exceptionally malicious and evil acts of the deceased before his death. 

The birth of a Pijavica is attributed to many different causes, including suffering an “unnatural” or untimely death such as suicide, excommunication, improper burial rituals, or even simple causes such as an animal jumping or bird flying over either the corpse or the empty grave, being conceived on certain days, or being born with a caul, teeth, or tail.” 

I paused my typing, fingers leaving the keyboard in order to brush loose strands of hair from my face. Around me, the baristas of my favorite coffee shop were buzzing like worker bees in an old hive; they were gearing up for the lunch rush, and I realized I’d been here four hours already. 

This place had long been my go-to study zone. It was small; there was just enough hustle and bustle to keep me from descending too deep into the abyss of studying and yet, it had the respect of the patrons that a library does. The owner, Fred, made sure that conversations were kept in hushed tones, courteous to those of us who needed to work in noise instead of quiet. 

“If ya wanna be loud, go sit at a Starbucks!” He’d huff at those who didn’t heed his warning.

My eyes took in the familiar surroundings as I stretched. An oversized wood-burning fireplace filled the wall next to the vintage cash register; it was sandwiched between two built-in bookcases housing stories of all kinds that were meant to be read and enjoyed. The old stone clackling ran all the way up the wall, and a custom mantle made from an old oak tree that had fallen in Fred’s backyard sat delicately above the firebox. Yes, this shop was magical. It held a special place in my heart, and I’d visited so often that old Fred had deemed the table I sat at as “my table”. It was always kept reserved for me. 

I reached for my coffee without looking; my brain needed more caffeine. I’d spent months on this master thesis, and yet for some reason, the notion of vampires was such a struggle. I didn’t understand the fear of those who lived back then. The origins of bloodsuckers were chaotic, the “treatments” laughable and still, people were willing to kill their own offspring over such nonsensical superstitions. Cold drops of stale roast hit my lips in a harsh reminder that I’d finished my previous dose. I sighed heavily and dropped the cup to the wooden surface of my table. Eyes closed, I laced my fingers around my neck and drew my elbows together to stretch my spine. Coffee. I need more coffee.

“Having trouble?”

A man’s baritone, smooth as whiskey interrupted my thoughts. My body jolted at his leisurely tone, and I nearly tumbled off the chair as my eyes snapped open to view the intruder. Sitting across from me was anything but a man; I was in the presence of divine artistry, two breathtaking orbs of gray-washed sky centered below auburn curls that adorned his perfectly symmetrical face. A sharp nose pointed to his strong jaw, while an amused smirk tugged at the corner of lips that I’m certain could send even a nun to her bedroom for self-maintenance. He wore a crisp, pinstripe suit, the buttons of his dress shirt undone sinfully low, revealing a smattering of additional curls. 

My oversized turtleneck sweater and leggings suddenly felt subpar.

“The name’s Walker,” he mused further, gesturing a large hand toward the empty paper tumbler that was now lying on its side. “What were you drinking?”

“I--I um,” I fumbled with my words, embarrassed by my sudden inability to form a proper sentence. “I had a flat white? With two extra shots of espresso.”

The man named Walker had the cup in his hand and was out of his chair before I could blink; he was already ordering another coffee by the time I managed to process his intentions. I watched him hand the barista a bill I couldn’t see, but by the shocked expression on her face at the man’s declination of the change, it must have been a sizable amount. He sat down at the table again and stared at my chest unabashedly, making it clear he wasn’t just looking but imagining as well.

I should have been offended or felt objectified, but instead I felt drawn into his gaze.

“Having trouble?” He asked again, gesturing this time at my laptop.

“How long were you sitting there?” I blurted out, still too flummoxed to answer his question. Walker laughed and I swear, time stood still. Never in my life had I heard something so beautiful.

“Long enough.”

His reply was short and cryptic, a dismissal of my burgeoning curiosity. The barista chose that moment to bring two orders of coffee to the table, offering both of them to Walker by mistake. I took in her awestruck countenance, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that if my face matched hers I’d sink to the floor and die of shame. That notion shook me from my stupor and I was finally able to address his question.

“It’s my master thesis,” I explained, taking a sip of the scalding liquid he handed me. “I’m a History major, with an emphasis in mythology and folklore.”

I took another sip and tapped my phone, large numbers greeting me on the screen. Numbers that told me I was extremely late.

“Oh my god I have to go, I’m so sorry!” I apologized, scrambling to pack my things. In my haste I knocked my drink off the table. Resignation sunk in deep, submission to the knowledge of further humiliation at the impending spill. None came however, as Walker caught the drink in his hand before it crashed to the dark tiles.

“Thank you,” I murmured, gawking at him in bewilderment. Who was this man?

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, standing to help me collect the remainder of my books. “I’m interested in your thesis, could we perhaps discuss it over dinner? I don’t want to keep you from your next engagement.”

“I—” I stared at him, his face open and inviting. I’d been asked out before, but never this abruptly, and never by someone who looked and behaved like him. It sounded like an adventure…or a good story to tell on girls’ night at least.

“You know what, sure. Why not?”

I scribbled my number onto a napkin and slid it his way, grabbing the rest of my gear and heading toward the door. As I pushed against the hard metal, Walker’s large fingers caught my wrist, wrapping around it like ivy wraps around a lamppost. They were cool to the touch and yet somehow, my entire body immediately felt heated.

“We forgot first names,” he chuckled, “I’m August.”

I grinned sheepishly, pulling my arm from his surprisingly firm grip. The clank of the metal door handle resonated with the introduction I threw over my shoulder as I left the warmth of the shop and the handsome man behind.

“Amber.”

It took August a full week to call me. I felt like a fool; Did I leave on a poor note? Had I offended him somehow? Did he simply decide to change his fucking mind? I was kicking myself for saying yes; how could I have agreed to go on a date with a complete stranger? Now that I was no longer in his flustering presence, I began to see reason again. I knew nothing more than this man’s name, and the fact that he was more than likely rich. He could be a cold-blooded killer for all I knew, and I had every intention of telling him off.

I was in my apartment when he called. Still stuck on my thesis, I was currently unable to determine how best to explain the theory behind the sexual appeal of vampires. In my frustration, I hung upside down over the side of my bed, reading a book that discussed the many different works of literature revolving around vampirical romanticism and hoping the blood rushing to my brain would help me ascertain how to go about my explanation. The book was written by two authors who essentially argue the whole time, one of them convinced that the human fascination with vampires stems from the cannibalistic nature of bloodsucking or that it alluded to other bodily fluids such as semen, whereas the other stood firm in his belief that it held a much simpler cause; it was nothing more than the presence of oral fixation and sadism that caused the fantasy to plant its seed.

My phone vibrated but I ignored it, too engrossed in my book to be bothered with answering. I was so close… the answer was right there, it just continued to escape me. It wasn’t until my phone vibrated a second time to notify me of a voicemail that I put the pages down and picked up the electronic device.

The moment I heard August excusing his delay in calling to a work emergency, I immediately sat up and hit redial. There was something in his voice that made my heart quicken and my pulse race; it made the hair on my arms stand on end. I regretted sitting up so fast as it rang, the blood surrounding my brain draining quickly into the rest of my body. August answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Amber.”

“I—hi.”

I rolled my eyes then flinched in pain, congratulating myself sarcastically on how pathetic that response sounded with a slap of my palm to my forehead.

“Please, allow me to apologize again for waiting so long to call,” August insisted, seemingly unphased by my lack of vocabulary. “I still intend to take you to dinner, that is if you haven’t written me off completely.”

“No it’s fine, I totally get it,” I assured him. I had completely forgotten my earlier annoyance. He had explained it after all, and it could happen to anyone.

“Perfect. I’ll send a car tonight then, at seven. Wear something revealing please, I wasn’t able to see that pretty little neck of yours last time.”

My insides shook with an unexpected pang of shocked arousal at August’s request. The sexual confidence saturating his tone had me instantly reduced to nothing more than a deep desire for him to drag me to my knees by my hair. Why I wasn’t offended by the dominantly abrupt way this man spoke to me, I’ll never know. I put on the best flirty air I could manage in my stupor.

“I think I can manage that. Might have to charge you though.”

August laughed for the second time since I’d known him and I smiled, proud that I’d caused such a melodious sound to grace this earth.

“I like your spirit; you’re gonna be fun. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I—okay bye,” I managed to say before he hung up. I stared at my phone stupidly, as though I thought he was going to call again. Instead, the large clock face glared up at me like it always does, an ever present reminder that I live on a different plane of time than the rest of the world. I fell back on the bed, thinking about the man named August.

He likes my spirit? I hadn’t really shown him much, I’d been unable to do anything but stammer and trip over my words like a schoolgirl would when confronted by the cutest jock at school. What could he possibly see in me? The woman I truly was, the one I knew was underneath the bumbling idiot finally answered me. You’ve got three hours, Amber. Show him what you’re made of.

Resolve set in, and I bounced off the bed and walked toward my closet. For whatever reason, he’d chosen me, so I was going to let my confidence in that thought override all the self-doubt that was threatening to surface. I pulled my favorite dress from the hanger and set out to work. He wanted revealing? Then revealing is what he’d get, but I was going to do it my way.

The car was punctual, though I was less so. I scrambled to put diamond studs in my ears while being driven to some unknown location, my nerves making my hands shake. Once again, the notion that I could be driving to my death crept up my spine, but I brushed it off. Rich men send cars, it’s what they do. And I am an intelligent woman, I wouldn’t let myself be put in that situation.

Would I?

Touching the final stroke of Red Wine lipstick on my lips, I pulled my loose curls over my shoulder to expose my neck and put my things in my vintage black clutch, staring out the window at the ancient building that housed the most expensive club in town. I was suddenly grateful I’d chosen such a fancy dress. I fidgeted with the soft hem of the sleeve at my wrist, drawing it back and forth between my fingers while I waited for the driver to come to a stop.

I saw August there waiting, looking sharp as ever in another expensive three-piece suit, buttons undone just as low as the first time. This time however, I felt much better matched to his attire, and my confidence rose right next to my excitement. August came down the steps to open the door and I took his hand, hiking the burgundy velvet up to my thigh so that I could exit the car smoothly. The heavy fabric dropped to the ground the moment I freed it from my grasp, allowing August to study how I’d chosen to honor his request.

August drank in my covered form, taking in the way my dress hugged my curves and accentuated what it needed to. His eyes darkened as they lingered on the single large triangular section of bare skin that started at my shoulders and came to a point between my breasts, and I watched his tongue dart out of his mouth softly. He looked downright hungry. August stepped closer, fingertips grazing the flesh on my collarbone before he fastened his grip onto my nape and inhaled the hair at my temple deeply, pressing his lips to my ear.

“You are simply mouthwatering,” he growled, low and possessive. His hand released my neck and slid down to the small of my back, sending a shiver down my spine. My insides quivered at his touch, fragrant drops of dew pooling rapidly in the flimsy lace that guarded my mound from potential intruders.

“You wanted to see my ‘pretty little neck’,” I teased his earlier arrogance, lifting my skirt to traverse the steps leading inside, “I thought I’d frame her for you, give her the spotlight.”

August cocked an eyebrow at me in amusement, sensing my challenge. His fingers dug into my hip a little harder than necessary as he guided me through the establishment with nothing more than a nod to the hostesses. Apparent jealousy marred the face of one, and I thought I saw a hint of worry on the other. We were gone before the emotion could register in my mind.

I was escorted to a private booth in the upstairs of the establishment. While the first floor was crowded and full of people, the second floor was empty; August had requested it for our use alone. I could hear the hum of nightlife below, the haunting, non-lyrical melody of a soft alto wafting over the balcony as we walked past, the whispered promise of an enchanting night. A few tables and chairs were strategically placed on the floor, hugged by back-to-back rounded booths on either wall. Light ethereal curtains hung on either side of them, offering privacy from the guests who would typically sit in the next box over. August led me to the corner booth nearest the balcony so that we could look upon the stage if we chose.

“Our table, milady,” he joked, leaving a wet kiss on the back of my hand. Though the charade was seemingly in jest, it could not have been farther from it. His piercing eyes never left mine and I gasped at the feel of his brazen tongue on my skin. The suggestion of what he could do with it hung thick in his gaze, lacing the air with the succulent first tendrils of decadent tension. Playing along, I took a sharp breath and curtsied. I stayed low as August stood to show him the appeal of my figure at this angle, tilting just my head to look up at him. He stood there, head held high like a king, and the smile I received at my display was downright sinful.

“What a treat you are,” he murmured, cupping my chin briefly. My breasts swelled as I stood, consenting August the claim to chivalry by way of settling me into the alcove. He swept my hair over my shoulder again, trailing a single finger down my neck in admiration before taking his own seat. My insides were nothing but a pile of kindling, and every touch he gave was a spark that threatened to ignite the dry leaves into a burning flame of need.

The courses came and went just like those moments, every phrase emphasized with physical intimacy of some kind, whether it be just a gossamer brush of his fingers on my ear or an intentional grasping of my hand. He went as far as to boldly stroke the back of his knuckle along my cleavage, making me dizzy with desire. Each touch was avaricious—like he owned me—and I had zero qualms about letting him.

We ate our fill, but August made no move to leave the comfort of our small corner. With the noise of people below dulled by the far reaches of our seclusion, it was easy to converse. I told him more about my master thesis and the Pijavica, how they could read minds and enjoyed the power of persuasion, how they were impervious to all but decapitation, and how only their offspring could kill them. He listened intently, sharing tales of his own career. It was how I discovered that he was a doctor.

“I don’t practice anymore though, I prefer to study and learn. Specifically, I’m attracted to tears.”

“Tears?” That struck me as odd; it wasn’t often you came across someone who had such a unique field of study. “Why tears?”

August swirled the whiskey in his glass and downed it abruptly. He subtly indicated to our attendant for another before continuing his explanation.

“I’ve always had a fascination for the small things, things that people don’t seem to think matter; the mind-body connection, you know? For example,” he brushed a thumb over my cheekbone, “Did you know that the cellular structure of tears looks different based on the type of tear?”

August cupped my neck with both of his hands, tilting my head this way and that, his calm features set in measured focus as he spoke.

“Basal, reflexive, emotional... they all look different.”

I closed my eyes, letting him caress my skin. August’s touch was intoxicating, addicting. Even his scent was an aphrodisiac to my senses. I couldn’t get enough of it, lured ever closer to his sturdy frame, letting him manipulate my body how he saw fit. He nuzzled my hair, his soft spoken words dripping with lust into my ear.

“In fact,” he went on, “Even among those categories they differ, dependent on the stimuli.”

I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips surrounding the pulsepoint in my veins as he spoke, my jaw his destination. A hand snuck under my skirt, skimming along my trembling skin toward the seeping treasure that awaited him at the end of his journey. I spread my legs willingly, inviting him into my deepest of secrets. August hummed as he went on, sending spirals of tingling vibrations through my chest.

“The sting of onions, the sadness of grief… the satisfaction of overwhelming pleasure.”

“August…” I breathed, but my voice was severed as August simultaneously laid claim to my mouth and my womb. Thick fingers penetrated me in the same moment as his probing tongue, and it was in that moment I knew I was lost; August Walker could pull everything from me and I wouldn’t care; I’d want it, need it. He had spent all night teasing me, testing me, manipulating me and filling me with nothing but a desire for more, leaving me empty and wanting. He had succeeded, I now craved him above all else in this world.

August lifted my skirts, hoisting me with little effort to straddle his lap and I cried out in shock. The sound of my sudden impalement on the thick steel of his manhood was camouflaged by the crowd of people below; no one heard the echo of carnal awakening that sang through the air. When had he undressed? I bit my lip as he sank deeper into my core until the salty bitterness of copper and iron stung my chin. August’s eyes fell to the red droplet, darkening until the only color left in his pale irises was the very absence of light. With a hideous growl he ravaged my mouth, tasting every inch of my bruised lips with the hunger of an animal that’s been caged for far too long.

Thrill and terror tangled themselves in my mind, weaving an intricate web of wanton desire inside of me as August took me right there in the booth. Time itself seemed to halt, the room disappeared. Were we still in the club? Was it still the dead of night? Did I still require oxygen to breathe? Or was my life source now August’s touch, the light in my very soul dependent upon his kiss?

I didn’t notice when we left, nor when we arrived at a house that overlooked the city. I didn’t notice the lock on the basement door, or the fresh garden in the yard. I didn’t notice the continual rising and setting of the sun. I didn’t notice when I grew hungry, nor when I grew tired. I didn’t notice, not anything but passion, need, and desperation.

I didn’t notice.

Sleep drained from my limbs slowly. I awoke to black silk caressing my skin, dim sunlight shining through the wall, diffused by a covering of clouds that hung in the sky. It confused me that it was coming through the entire wall, until I realized that said wall was simply one large window, and the room I found myself in was built into the rock of an obsidian cliff overlooking the city. The room was minimally decorated in dark tones that coordinated with the nature outside, save for a striking, golden painting of a woman crying on the far wall. I clearly wasn’t home, and last night’s events slowly returned to the forefront of my mind.

August.

August was, without a doubt, the most attentive lover I’d ever had. Memories of his lips, his scent, his god-like physique that was surely carved from marble entertained my thoughts, returning my mind to the pleasure I’d never experienced in my life. Chills ran up and down my skin, alighting in wonder as my hand drifted to my sex. My fingers found my petals, swollen from overuse, aching in the dull agony of satisfaction. I stroked them gently, soothing the pleasant tenderness, moaning softly as the blood rushed to swell my clit once more, my other hand slipping beneath the silk to join in the heavenly edging torment.

A sharp, sudden sting at the brush of my inner thigh caused me to cry out, my hands snatching away from their play. I sat up, peering beneath the sheets to discover a semi-circle of divots cut into my leg. Is that a… a bite mark? I pulled at the skin and felt the dried blood crack, a small pinprick of new red seeping through the scab. I lunged from the bed to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner and look for other signs or markings, but what I found made me gasp.

Bruises peppered my neck, chest, hips and thighs. A few other crescents were scattered amongst them, standing out against the dark patches that shaded my skin. I took a physical inventory then, feeling the soreness in my jaw from being stretched by his cock, the ache of my neck from having my hair pulled, the shaky feeling of muscular fatigue in my legs from being tensed by orgasm after orgasm. I thought I detected a slight sheen on my skin, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the tremulous bliss of a satisfying fuck, or if it was the sweat and oil caused by said satisfying fuck. Either way, I looked happy and content. I grabbed August’s dress shirt from the floor and threw it on as I left the room to explore.

The bedroom led to a hallway, the wall to my left still nothing but expansive glass that showed off the impressive view. On the other side were large, black and white abstract prints, hung evenly spaced against dark panels. To the left of each was a shadow box with an ornate glass vial inside; each bottle was thin, no longer than my palm and differing in design from the others. Tiny, intricate patterns were painted on the outsides in white, blue, and gold, and gold stoppers sealed each one. When I entered the main room, I discovered a curio cabinet that housed at least a hundred of them, and I leaned in to look at how varied each one was.

“Victorian tear catchers,” August’s voice was suddenly behind me and I whirled sharply, startled. He chuckled at my alarm and I laughed with him, enjoying that glorious sound.

“They’re beautiful,” I murmured, turning back to look at the delicate glass. August pulled me against his naked chest, nosing my hair and kissing my neck.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, earning an eye roll from me. August chuckled and opened the cabinet.

“Would you like one?”

“Really?”

I looked at him, stunned. He simply nodded his head in the direction of the vials and I examined them, selecting one that had a white pattern on it that looked like lace.

“Mmm, a good choice. Perhaps I can collect tears of ecstasy for you,” August whispered. The thrill of what he was implying awakened my senses, and I let him lead us slowly back toward the bedroom. I felt like teasing him, so I delayed a bit by asking about the art on the wall.

“What are those?” I pointed to the first print, a cross-hatching pattern that looked like it was made of sewing pins.

“Those are tears of grief,” he stated, stopping in front of each as he walked me gradually down the hall.

“A yawn,” he said of the next, a white background with dark, fern-looking splatters. August traced his mouth along my jaw, his hand dipping beneath the button of his shirt to play with the sensitive nipples he had rediscovered. I keened as he continued shifting us toward the kitchen, struggling to keep my composure. The next print was a much darker gray, and it looked like it was covered in snowflakes.

“Any guesses?” August asked, mouthing my earlobe in tandem with the flick of his thumbs over my hardened nubs. I whimpered, my knees weak in his lustful embrace.

“Uhm… cold air?” I rasped as he sucked on my neck. August chuckled through his nose, the vibrations of his voice rippling through my chest to connect with his teasing fingers.

“Onions.”

“Yeah okay.”

I tilted my head so that I could kiss him, but suddenly the thought of onions turned my stomach. I lurched, pulling away and gagging slightly. Instead of concern, August smiled knowingly, seemingly unbothered by my retching.

“I see morning sickness has set in. It’s a little early and I had hoped you’d be able to avoid it, but alas, that’s not the case.”

My head swam suddenly, confusion mutilating all thought. I backed away from him.

“Morning what? What are you talking about?”

August took a step toward me, placing a hand on my belly and lacing his fingers in the hair at my nape.

“Women always taste better after they’ve conceived. And I can keep them longer; they make much more blood when they’re host to a fetus.”

I pushed against him, turning away and vainly attempting to process his words. Pregnant? Taste better? Blood? My eyes focused on a card I hadn’t noticed earlier in the shadow box, a single word printed on it.

Bridgette

“Isn’t it ironic,” August mused, tracing my collarbone with a thick finger, “That five weeks ago, you had a chance encounter with the very thing you’ve been studying for months, and now you carry his child.”

The room spun. I couldn’t think; my brain refused to process the nonsense he spoke.

“Five—five weeks?! No that’s not possible, our date was last night!”

“It’s more than possible, sweet morsel. Think about it.”

Bile rose thick and acrid in my throat then, threatening to spill. Memories and time started filtering into my mind, replacing the fog with everything I’d lost. The last puzzle piece clicked into place, confusion all but disappeared and I was left with nothing but the cold, terrifying truth. Pijavica. Vampire. Monster.

I’d fallen into the clutches of a monster.

I did the only thing I could think of; I slapped him as hard as I could and took off through the house, ignoring the sharp pain of a chunk of hair remaining in his hand. My heart pounded in my chest, desperate to be free of this sudden nightmare. I slammed into the front door and grabbed the handle, a strangled sob catching in my throat when it wouldn’t open.

I rattled the door knob, panic consuming every fiber of my being. Suddenly, it wasn’t just my life I was fighting for; apparently there was a life inside of me that needed protecting. The child of a Pijavica that was depending on me to escape, so that he could come back and kill his father. I have to get out. I gave up on the door in anger, spinning around and looking for another way.

“Do you know why I chose you?”

I heard August’s voice again, but he was nowhere to be seen. His voice came louder, penetrating my mind. I have to keep moving.

“It was because of your name; they match your eyes.”

I whimpered at his words, sneaking my head around a corner to survey the living space for some form of an exit.

“Amber has a historical application, you see,” he went on, louder. I dashed over the floor, desperate to be gone from him. Door after door remained locked, and my terror grew with each attempt. Every now and then I could hear August, whether it be a rustle of fabric or the knock of his foot on the wooden floor. The scholar in me knew that it was on purpose, that he was luring his prey, giving chase to his food, and yet my rational mind refused to take charge. I was being led by my flight response, and his jarring monologue wasn’t helping.

“Throughout history, whenever a goddess cried it was typically tears of amber, save for the goddess Freya, who cried gold. You met her in the bedroom.”

His laughter echoed through the dark walls of his lair, and chilled me to my core. It was no longer a beautiful sound, but grating and horrible. I was nothing but a petty human to play with, some toy that he could eat when he tired of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I came to the last door. Dear God, please let this one open. To my utter relief, the door swung wide and I was met with stairs. Stairs went down, and we were on a cliff. Down was good. Down meant freedom.

I clambered down the steps and flung open the door at the bottom, stumbling into the room and falling to the floor in horror and fear. There in front of me, was nothing but mirrors. A maze of mirrors, each one showing me my trembling features, mocking me, letting me know just how fucked I was. I turned back, intending to go back up the stairs and try another way, but August’s silhouette stood at the top, preventing me from going back into the house. I heard a scream and realized it was my own.

Scrambling off the floor, I took off into the maze, blinded by my tears.

“Each of those girls made it this far you know,” August taunted. I heard the slam of the door and nearly choked as I ran. “You’ll die in this room, just like they did.”

His nonchalance, his continual unconcern about chasing me, his arrogance that he would no doubt catch me made me so angry. I raced from path to path, growing ever more frantic every time I reached a dead end. I didn’t even know if this room had an exit, I just knew I had to keep moving. I tripped over something as I rounded a corner, screaming when I saw what it was.

“I see you found Bridgette,” August chuckled, and I looked up from the skeleton to see his hideous face marred with a sinful sneer. I gasped and took off again, turning this way and that. Hitting another dead end, I doubled back and ran smack into August’s broad torso. He caught me and held me close as I screamed, ripping his shirt from my body. He spun me around, pinning my wrists between my back and his belly, trailing his fingers languidly over my naked frame in an inspection of his handiwork. My jaw was gripped in an iron vice and August forced my gaze to the mirror.

“Do you see what I see?” he mocked. I could only stare in horror, for nothing but my own terrified expression stared back at me.

August had no reflection.

“Out of all the patterns in the world, do you know which tears are my favorite?” August continued to torment. He inhaled my hair deeply, snaking his tongue along the length of my cheek, tasting the stains my tears had left in their wake.

“Fear.”

I heard August growl as I fought against him, his iron grasp caging me against his cool skin, more of the cursed moisture pooling in my eyes. Glassy drops fell, retracing a new path toward my chin but August just kissed them away, shoving me to the floor when my knees buckled of their own accord. He let go of my hands to fidget with his slacks, pulling me back toward him every time I tried to crawl away as a parent would to a petulant child. On the third attempt he snapped my knee, a scream tearing from my throat in my woeful submission to his desire.

Finally free of his clothes, August lifted my hips, lining his rigid cock up against my sweat-soaked folds. He dove into my treasure without care, forcing his way into the depths of my belly, stretching and tearing my walls until he was fully sheathed. Strong arms wrapped around me again, and I felt two sharp points prick the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cried out and thrashed in fierce protest, knowing that small pinch was just a warning of oncoming pain.

August’s teeth punctured my skin easily, shredding muscle and sinew until they hit bone. I howled in pain as I watched blood drip from the wound, a familiar crescent shape joining its brothers on my body. Searing heat shot through my neck with his first draw of thick plasma; the violent removal of blood causing an intense burn that I felt all the way down to my injured leg. August released my neck and I clapped a hand over the fresh wound.

I looked over my shoulder at him; his head was tilted down, mouth still full of my blood; the lack of a reflection behind him unsettling to my senses. August opened his wicked maw slowly, dark scarlet trickling from his lips onto the junction where my hips met his, run through by his sword. He looked up at me with a nasty grin, bloodstained fangs curdling my stomach. I closed my eyes and turned away as he swiped a hand through the mess. His fingers penetrated my core alongside his cock, deaf to my sobbing objections.

“You’d better open your eyes, pet… This needy little cunt is dripping, I’d hate for you to miss it.”

August emphasized his sick joke by grasping my hair, shoving my head to the floor, forcing me to look once more into the polished glass. My desperate wails for mercy were all that kept me grounded as I watched him thrust, my battered hole be stretched beyond capacity. Nothing but empty space plundered my core, crimson air bruising the very place within me that only just last night had been treated with such tenderness and care. Not last night. His slick fingers found my mouth and violated it effortlessly; no amount of pressure I could apply would break through his tough skin.

“God, you look so beautiful.”

August pulled me up and took to my neck with fervor, latching onto the broken sliver of skin like a leech. The more he drank, the weaker I became, until there was no resistance left within me. I could see the color drain from my bloody face, I could see black slowly creep into my vision, but I was powerless to stop it. August was in charge, he held my entire existence in his hands, and he intended to extinguish it. I closed my eyes again, accepting my fate.

I was going to die.

One of my favorite places to visit is a small outdoor cafe, very near the coffee shop where I met Amber. Mmmm. Amber. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of that tantalizing woman.

She lasted so much longer than all the others, you know. I was able to feed off of her nearly three full months as she hung there in my basement, until the last drop of her tantalizing nectar was finally extracted. She smelled of carraway and saffron, tasted of sweet mulled wine, and with the rich, heady, piquancy of her fertile womb seasoning each sinew, every inch of her opulent flesh begged to be consumed. I must admit, I should have dispatched of her sooner, but fascination overtook my curious mind as her own was consumed by insanity.

First it was freedom she asked for, and then death. Sometimes she would beg to speak to her mother one last time. But by the end, she only asked for one thing.

“Please,” she would whisper, “Please… Cover the mirrors. Just cover the mirrors.”

She asked so nicely, but how on earth could I hide such beauty? Her tears were just as rare, you see. They hold a beauty unmatched by any of the others that hang on my walls. I’ve never seen such a fear pattern like hers; it is more exquisite than the dawn of a misty spring day in the countryside, more beautiful than a woman at the height of euphoria. And they way they sparkled against her skin, lustrous tracks that wound down her temples and through her hair, glinting in the mirrors with each slow rotation of her inverted body... well, it was as if I was living among the stars. Adding her ashes to my garden was such a shame.

I sat at that little cafe, eyes closed, viewing the world through my enhanced scent. Each drop of bitter coffee, the pollen of a nearby bee, the oil in the bike chains of two clumsy humans as they rolled past; each note and fragrance alerting me to its owner. A familiar scent reached my nose and I turned my head sharply, focusing on it.

Carraway… Saffron.

I smiled softly, opening my eyes to greet the woman that now sat at my table. The honey irises that had intrigued me all those months ago met mine and I chuckled low.

“Amber.”

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