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my tumblr screen time increases x20 in october 🌝 bcz of the fun fall aesthetic pics that tumblr offers !
not bcz of micheal myers/ghostface smut wdym
theyre looking at me btw
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ Ryan Gosling 🌷
Since were all talking about Ryan Gosling here are some of my favorite pictures from Pinterest of him
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hi can you make headcanons about yandere klaus mikaelson (romantic)
Hi anon! Thank you for your request. Have fun reading :)
KLAUS MIKAELSON YANDERE HEADCANONS
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x gn!reader
Trigger warnings: Yandere!Klaus Mikaelson, age gap (mans is 1000+ years old), obsession, mention of killing and blood
English isn’t my first language!
——————————————————————————
When Klaus first saw you, he was mesmerised. You were the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on. The way you carry yourself and light up the room with your contagious laughter.
Yes, the (old) hybrid fell in love with you on first sight and trust me, he can’t believe it either.
When he first asked you out on a date you were excited. Of course you noticed him as well. People talk, as well as your friendgroup. It’s safe to say that they don’t like him that much.
You, on the other hand, grew to like him pretty fast. He wrapped you around his finger and promised to show you the world. And he never breaks promises.
The darkness that surrounds him, the unbelievable charm, his golden curls and small dimples. The way his eyes light up when he looks at you, the fire you feel in your chest whenever he walks past you or gives you one of „those looks“. You can’t get enough of this man and he knows it. He enjoys it.
But don’t you worry, he is as obsessed with you as you are with him. The love he has for you is deep.
He would kill for you. There is no line in this world that he wouldn’t cross for you.
Someone gives you a dirty look? He gives you their heart on a silver plate. How about a dumb comment? Don’t worry darling, he’s very skilled when it comes to slitting someone’s throat open and kissing you whilst doing so.
He would go on his knees for you. He would give you everything. Manipulate and kill anyone who gets in his way. It’s like he’s bound to you.
You drive him crazy.
When you told him that a guy at work was flirting with you and made attempts to get closer to you, the hybrid would come home covered in blood of your so beloved coworker, having done god knows what to him.
Klaus even goes as far as holding your hand, kissing you and caressing your tender skin in public. It’s like no one’s watching when you’re together.
And if someone’s watching then he makes sure to show them who you belong to. Having an arm tightly wrapped around your waist and pulling you close to his body.
I feel like he would want you both to wear matching bracelets. You know the cute, black ones with silver pearls? Or you would get a matching tattoo ;)
#the vampire diaries#damon salvatore x reader#klaus mikealson smut#klaus mikealson x reader#klaus x reader#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x you#klaus mikaelson x reader#tvd klaus#tvd imagine#tvd fandom#tvd x reader#tvd universe#tvdu x reader#tvd fanfiction#stefan salvatore#damon salvatore
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Hey guys! It’s been a while again. I will be writing for Ryan Gosling and Jake Gyllenhaal now. Of course the slasher, batman and ahs fics will be continued!!
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Tell me you have daddy issues without telling me you have daddy issues
I’ll go first.
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Me on tumblr search bar looking for fics:
hmm..who am I going to be in love with today?
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babygirlifying the most blood curdling, irredeemable hardened criminals in fiction is so much fun
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I don’t understand how they make slashers so fucking hot and expect us, mentally ill hoes to not wanting to get railed by them until we can’t walk and talk??? Like sorry some of us have mask kink and wanna get degraded?????
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Thoughts Unspoken
Pairing(s): Michael Myers/Reader
Warning(s): Implied mention of violence and murder.
Additional: 5,432 words. Written in 2nd POV [You/Your]. Storyline is set during the events of Halloween (1978).
Michael felt the rush of adrenaline left him quickly as he walked along the streets of Haddonfield, a cool breeze from the wind gently brushing against him. His body remained tense, ready to be on the run from the authorities whenever it was necessary to do so. The night of Halloween was still young—peace and silence now followed him after the actions he committed. Michael strayed away from his home for now, knowing that it would be the subject of interest for the authorities to look into as Halloween passes into November. He felt particularly empty, with a hunger now ebbing away at him the more steps he took down the street.
The function bothered him, as it still attempted to suggest to the Shape that he was still human. Perhaps it was true in the case of when he was younger, a small glint of humanity prospering in his eyes when he had first been taken to Smith’s Grove as the little child he was. The little light had been dimmed and quickly dissipated as he began undergoing treatment. No longer was he a little boy as much as his actions now were no longer excusable—his understanding of it being obscured even further by Dr. Loomis’ belief and understanding of him. If he was the Boogeyman they chose to depict and interpret, that was on them. One thing that was absolute, was that he was no longer human. The newfound title wrapped around his limbs in a tight embrace—as if daring others to prove otherwise. With it as the truth, his viewpoint on the world began to dull with every year that passed.
Common human functions that Michael saw for himself would be the motivations, goals and even desires belonging to those around him. He saw desire ever so present with his victims, their acts of blatant adultery—alongside their motivation to continue on running from him as a futile attempt to escape.. Despite being witness to the many moments of humanity before him, not once had Michael discovered a suitable situation where it required him to demonstrate it.
Not that there was a possibility that he could have ever tried, but that was the biggest difference between man and Michael. Dr. Loomis’ claimed himself that his mind had already been perfected to the nth degree as a heartless evil who knew no bounds—with a taste for bloodshed, to top everything all off. He, in spite of any circumstance, should know that it was universally impossible for him to attempt at reigniting the cheap alternative of humanity. He knew it was, having had the opportunities to do so permanently snipped away from young.
—
He recalls each defining moment during his stay at Smith’s Grove as if it occurred within a span of a few days.
When he had been admitted into the sanatorium at six, the four white walls were all that he could see and grow accustomed to. Michael had looked into every nook and cranny that may pose to him as a weakness in the foundation. By then, he decided that he wanted to leave Smith’s Grove. It wasn’t an if at all, but when. It was a more palpable answer to himself that where he was now was not at all ideal. Despite his distaste for the concrete barriers, he was initially tended to by the professionals who came to visit him. Keyword on initially.
With time, almost every toy imaginable began to manifest before him, dropped off by the doctor in exchange for his words. Michael settled on answering yes or no questions, his child mind failing to understand—let alone wrap around the use of big words said by Samuel. He never understood, despite his high expectations of him being able to do so.
Michael received more toys whenever he said yes to Dr. Loomis’ queries, to which he took advantage. There were only so many toys for a boy to get. He quickly lost his interest in receiving the toy itself, but still remained stubborn in keeping it a part of his collection. He was quick to figure out that his stubbornness was picked apart by the professionals overseeing him, in which he realised and acknowledged the many eyes on him—those who monitor his every move.
Michael began to shut down shortly after, resulting in his behaviour now appearing slow and inattentive during interviews.
A year passed, the toys gifted to him from when he was seven were removed from his person. The reason for removal was due to his unresponsive behaviour toward the toys and when it was his turn to answer Dr. Loomis. Despite the sudden changes made by his doctor, Michael did not react. Jotting down his unresponsiveness as yet another inhuman quality, Dr. Loomis moved on to clear his collection, leaving Michael with a barren, white room. Of course, the boy did not seem to respond. With the lack of interest in the toys Dr. Loomis attempted to bribe Michael with for answers he wanted to hear, the lesser the primal urge of possessiveness became prevalent in the young boy.
At age nine Michael began to grow even more quieter, with each word he uttered barely above a whisper. In which his voice began to blend in with the soundless room. Even if he spoke, every word appeared to mimic a muffled voice from afar—that very voice being one inadvertently ignored due to its similarity with all that was natural. Not once would anyone expect a voice from normality. It was at this age where Michael began nurturing his patience, doing so after acknowledging that escape from what he presumed to be a tightly secured building would require for him to wait. With his almost hollowed sense of self, Michael’s focus on his restraint was expanded upon tenfold—testing the limits of it firstly, by remaining stationary for long periods of time.
Age 10, the boy was near silent. The only sign that he was living were the small, barely noticeable intakes of breath that he took when the nurses checked up on him. Many of the nurses overseeing Michael presumed that he was merely zoning out. They were wrong, as Michael honed in on his skills, patiently waiting for the opportunity to arise.
With Dr. Loomis’ attempts at reaching him, he was continuously deemed unresponsive with every visit. This resulted in the doctor inviting other child psychologists to attempt at reaching him, the change bringing about the many doses they injected into Michael. Being heavily medicated left Michael even more sluggish, especially matched in movement as he was being led to and fro interview rooms before returning to his room once more. Despite the doses, it appeared to those on observational duty noting that Michael had begun to grow.
By the time his silence marked into its 15th year, Michael Audrey Myers had become a behemoth of a man. His stature was intimidating, paired with his already selective behaviour as a man of very few words—he found himself pandered into an image that was reserved for him, a being thought to be lesser than man in spite of the many human qualities they presumed he decided to impersonate. A concretised, textbook definition of evil.
What they failed to realise was that with every visit they intended to make, Michael’s trust in them dissipates significantly with every direct question they dare ask. Prying into his physical condition was a matter he’d grown to tolerate, however, believing that they of all people have a right to pry into the memories he held onto? Michael stared back unamused, his body unmoving with his lips remaining sealed. Every move of his was monitored as usual, and much to Samuel’s chagrin and frustration, Michael didn’t react. With the claims made by that doctor, it appeared (perhaps as a butterfly effect to seem glad for) that the nurses and guards began to grow careless. Many of them had even been foolish enough to turn with their backs facing him, as if they themselves had forgotten who it was that they were to watch over.
Michael’s eyes were astute in recognising changes to routine, be it his—or the guards that patrol in the sanatorium. He learnt and remembered the changes that the guards at Smith’s Grove make during holidays, with it resulting in a good handful of guards being away and few that would remain patrolling the halls of the sanatorium. It appeared that with recognition of his inhumanity, his senses had heightened to an almost remarkable standard—his sense of hearing being one of them. He used that acutely hearing every footstep as the guard stepped toward the office to clock out. Everything by then appeared to fall into place, a perfect chain of events that followed one after another. Almost as if it were purely by chance, the opportunity to leave the sanatorium had come.
Michael followed through, escaping Smith’s Grove Sanatorium the night before Halloween.
—
That being said, he knew this change was what he wrought out for himself. It never would have been permitted by the doctors who tended to him. He had already blocked out the unnecessary aspects of social function with those people, finding each voice equally irritating than the last. Even if he tried to reciprocate, most, if not all, took advantage of his reaction as being the key to his path of confession and rehabilitation. Alas, there was no need to dwell on life at the sanatorium now that he had successfully paved a path for himself.
Hands far more bloodied than ever before, Michael seemed to snap from his thoughts as a voice calling for him rang through his moment of silence.
A voice among the blurred ocean, one that he was not used to.
Michael turned his head to the right, his gaze immediately locking onto someone not too far away—perhaps only a few feet. There you were, standing on the front porch with a large plastic bowl tucked under an arm. You waved at him.
“You should head on home and eat, it’s getting late anyway—” You cautioned, before a smile appeared on your features. It was barely noticeable to the naked eye, but not to Michael’s. He took note of your smile that seemed to be illuminated from the warm light of your home. “—...Uh, Happy Halloween.”
With that, Michael watched as you retreated into your home. It had only been a half an hour, he thought. The authorities would still be at the Myers home, loitering around his property in an almost futile attempt to gather even a sliver of traces that could aid in pinpointing the Shape’s current whereabouts, as he came to expect. With a tight grip on the kitchen knife, Michael decided to follow you into your home, deciding to quietly enter through the backdoor.
—
You didn’t know what it was, but after seeing that strange man, you could almost feel an extra pair of eyes staring you down. It seemed as though they were watching your every move.
You chalked up the concern to something close to mere paranoia, setting aside the orange bowl atop the kitchen counter as you tucked away the leftover candy into the pantry. You felt too exhausted to make any labour intensive meals, leaving you to settle on a simpler meal to make. You took your time as you made a few slices of French toast, plating them carefully beside the bowl as you wait for it to cool. You found yourself continuing to ignore the unnerving stares that lingered, shutting the lights off with your plate in hand.
You stopped in your tracks once you turned on your heel to exit the kitchen. Your path was blocked by a tall figure, their presence looming over you despite them remaining almost perfectly still.
By some coincidence, you recognised the figure’s posture.
“You’re that man from earlier.” You spoke, voice already uneasy on how you should conduct yourself before this man. It was as if he was more intimidating up close, but you weren’t too sure.
“You really shouldn’t break into people’s homes—” That’s when you saw it. It was barely noticeable, and yet with a small glimmer of light hit against the object that the man was holding, revealing the weapon. It was only for a brief moment, although you were now aware of the large kitchen knife that he held in his right hand. Figuring out ways to defuse and minimise the risk of danger, you wracked your brain to recall what you said prior. It hit you in an instant, with you quickly glancing at your plate of French toast.
“…Are you hungry, sir? Wh–” A hitch was present in your voice as you tried to string words along in a cohesive manner. “Was that why you broke in?” You asked, hesitation layered thickly in your voice. His head slowly tilted slightly toward his left, as if processing your statement.
—
Tilting his head back into its original position, Michael watched as you set the plate back onto the kitchen counter in its place. Deciding to humour you, he moved to the side before awaiting your reaction. You took the bait, though you ensured that you kept facing him as you moved away. You acknowledged the fact that he was dangerous even before he struck, a fearful expression plastered across your features. Michael turned his attention back onto the meal you had prepared, the smell of butter and egg still in the air as it attempted to combat the thick iron that seeped into the fabric of his boilersuit. The knife was now on the kitchen counter, coincidentally beside the empty plastic bowl that you had been using to innocently hand out candies to the trick-or-treaters. He lifted his mask ever so slightly, his mouth only revealed before he began to eat away at the bread. The meal assisted in abating the hunger he had, the function disappearing soon after—which returned Michael back into a familiar, clearer state of mind. He turned to face the direction from where you escaped to. Your shadow remained at the same spot—he presumed you were standing by the front door, ready to run when the time calls for it. He picked up his knife once more, the sound causing your breathing to quicken. The urge to kill had already died down earlier, leaving him at a loss on what to do.
He left shortly after, leaving behind a victim bewildered at what transpired.
✻
The days bled through November as you wondered about the night on the 31st.
This strange man who you chanced upon on that fateful Halloween night—you found out about who he was that you survived from. It gave you chills that it was Michael Myers, the infamous serial killer known to be ruthless as he terrorised those who lived in Haddonfield, who had spared you amongst the others whom he crossed paths with.
After that night in particular, you expected that he would return to kill you some way or another. You never expected him to be by the kitchen doorway, standing still as he watched you cook dinner. You almost dropped your meal once you saw him now a few steps forward, making himself known in an instant. The initial shock didn’t last once you noticed that he no longer carried the large kitchen knife from before, and that his attention was no longer on you—but rather, the meal you had prepared. You grabbed a fork before holding out the plate of carbonara toward him, eyes shutting instinctively in fear of any aggressive reaction. It was nerve wracking, feeling his larger hands grab the meal and fork. You peeked, seeing Michael’s back facing you now as you heard the sound of the metal fork hitting against ceramic.
“Y..You should be sitting down and eating. You might choke on the meal if you keep eating as you stand.” you chastised softly, tensing up once you realised that he stopped moving. You braced for the worse. This is where you die. You could hear yourself reasoning. You’ll die in your kitchen at the hands of Michael Myers. To your surprise, he seemed to listen. He moved toward the dining room, which had you even more agitated with the realisation that he must have figured out the layout of your home without you knowing—either by watching or something even more heinous—seating himself on the chair. It was as he was seated that you grasped how tall he really was, his body hunched over as he ate as quietly as he could.
He stood up as soon as he finished his meal, his stare returning onto you before he nodded slowly. You blinked in confusion, before realising that he had left once again, leaving you once again mystified at his uncharacteristic behaviour.
You tried to not think too much about it, though you found out that it was only the beginning of his visits.
Days turn into weeks as you find yourself greeted with the sight of Michael more often than not.
One-off visits became weekly before transitioning into him visiting twice or thrice per week. You attempted to adjust, purchasing ingredients to prepare meals for two, plating your meal closest to the doorway to make any particularly quick exits—and almost routinely, Michael returned to eat once again. It was silent during the dinner you now shared together, leaving you to bask in exasperation at the current situation you were in with Haddonfield’s most wanted killer.
It was a Friday, you were seated across from Michael as you ate your portion of lasagna. You turned toward the direction of where he was seated, seeing him slowly take bites. His mouth was the only thing that was uncovered, save for his blue eyes that were visible through the eyeholes of the cheap latex. They were alluring, despite seeming empty yet so full of hidden secrets—some that he kept aside under lock and key. His slow movement as he ate had thrown you into a loop in the beginning, as it was jarring when compared to his ability to disappear sight in an instant—as if he were playing into the idea that he looked to be unassuming and harmless with the reaction speed he had, despite it being further from the truth. You knew that he was far faster than he would let on, leaving you to be reminded further that he was dangerously unpredictable. Alas, your staring did not go unnoticed, seeing how he paused on eating. Not long after, you were quick to realise that Michael was staring right back at you.
—
He watched as you stumbled on your own words, expectantly waiting for you to clarify.
“Sorry for–you know, staring. Did you… Did you like the food?” You asked sheepishly, seeming unsure of yourself as you did so. He could see a grimace present in your eyes, though it appeared to not be directed toward him but toward yourself. Michael wondered about the question, turning his gaze back onto his plate—his head tilted in the process.
“The food.. Did you enjoy eating it?” You seem to have pressured yourself to elaborate further, most likely due to the silence that perturbed you.
Like? He thought, a feeling of loss now taking over his mind as he ran through multiple ideas on what that word entailed in his case. Did he like eating? Eating was a function he had to endure as a part of him to conduct—as it was a means to stave off the other functions such as hunger and fatigue. After eating as regularly as he visited you, he noted himself that the two functions made themselves less present. Eating was a function to prevent the other two, which were equally troublesome—and had been responsible for nudging the possibility of his humanity. With that conclusion in mind, he supposed that he did like to eat.
But to enjoy? What did that mean?
Michael returned his gaze onto you, head once again tilted as he stared you down. Once more, he was expecting answers from you. You seemed to pick up on this, appearing confused now at his reaction.
“Do..—” You paused, seeming to think over your words before continuing your statement. “—Do you… not understand what those words mean?”
Michael did not respond, though his eyes glanced at your plate for a brief moment.
“To ‘like’—” You made sure to air quote it. “—it’s… a positive feeling that you might have sometimes. Say, doing a favourite activity for example. You would feel strongly about it, to say the least.” You explained, using your hands to gesture an emphasis on your own words. Michael mulled over your description of the word. You didn’t stop your explanation, filling the awkward silence now with your voice. This time around, Michael didn’t seem to find himself needing to block out your voice. He supposed there was no need to, seeing how your voice did not match the scratchy tones of those before you. Strangely enough, Michael found himself listening to you as you spoke.
“To enjoy… It’s something you find pleasure in—like an activity you like to the point where you want to repeat—and even return to it—whenever you have the chance. Just like you eating right here… if that is okay to use.” You quickly ended your sentence, a sheepish expression appearing over your features. Michael did not appear to respond.
“Right… right. I’ll be clearing the plates now—” You spoke cautiously, before clearing your throat nervously, your voice now returned to normal. “—I hope that my explanation helped you out in understanding what it meant.” Michael stood abruptly, a slow nod being his only response to you throughout the entire night. Michael left soon after, multiple thoughts swarming his mind as if it were a hive of irritated wasps, a low buzz following after every thought that passed through it.
There was a lot to think over for Michael. He didn’t know what it was, but it intrigued his curiosity to look into it further.
✻
Days pass by as usual, he heard that it was near the end of November.
Michael still continued his visits, your home now a secondary shelter that he found himself returning to more often than his own—be it after a kill, whether he was hungry again or his visits were purely out of boredom—your home was a place that he returned to with a comfortable feeling washing over him, despite him not understanding why he felt it so. You seemed to welcome him inside as well, greeting him each time he stood in your living room or kitchen. You began changing, too, from your initial reaction of fear to one that seemed welcoming to the killer as you began talking to him, your hands multitasking as you did so. This change was new to him as well, seeing how it usually went quite the opposite for people who had interacted with Michael. It was always their guard being down and acting carefree in the beginning before it morphed into one of sheer terror. It was a horrifying feeling, one that overtook their entire body once they saw Michael as the danger he truly was. Despite that, their screams appeared satisfactory to the killer as he watched the life drain from their eyes.
You, on the other hand, reacted differently. You acknowledged that he was dangerous, as seen with your fear on that night. How you used that fear to escape, however, was what made you incongruent from the victims before him. You reached him with a simple question, one that had him stopping just enough in his tracks from killing you. As if you were struck down with a short sliver of luck, you didn’t die. Slowly, but surely, Michael began to associate you with something similar as a provider—something to feed him. He supposed it couldn’t be helped that he needed you alive to solve the function of hunger.
And then there was your explanation of those very two words that he was initially lost on.
One thing that also set you apart from the others that he met during his sprees was that you answered him truthfully. His questions were left unspoken, but you picked up on it. He knew how to tell whenever something was amiss, and by body language alone, you were no liar.
With the time he spent over at your home, he realised that you were growing used to him—that left him confused.
Left to his own devices, Michael realised that he kept on repeating the words that you said in his mind. Answers came easily from you, it seemed to him. He took advantage of it, becoming quick in absorbing your words like a sponge, adding the newfound knowledge to something that was tangible for his mind to accept. Michael applied your examples, especially in the case of him constantly returning for you, taking his time forming new reasons as to what it meant for him.
He started simply enough, what was it that he liked?
He knew he liked eating. It served its purpose in reducing the function of hunger to a noticeable degree, allowing him to continue on his day. He liked the fact that you were quick to adapt and make food for him, as it benefitted him.
Not long after, Michael began to realise that his answers were beginning to delve into far more specific aspects that pertained to you.
One notable answer was that Michael liked your voice. It was easy to listen to, nor did you seem to use it carelessly. You chose your words tactfully and with a caution that you still held onto despite having gotten used to him as a frequent visitor of yours.
Another answer was your eyes. They held many emotions that Michael could not even begin to comprehend, nor would he ever find himself to begin understanding. As intriguing as it was seeing you emote freely, it left a bittersweet feeling to form within him the more he stared. This was more due to the fact that those eyes of yours were windows to something that he would never become. A human.
It was midway into December. By that time, he learnt more about feelings with your assistance. Michael began to understand the strong surges of what it was that came over him whenever he did experience them. He learnt the feelings of joy and excitement, seeing it prevalent as you talked about your hobbies. It was one of the many afternoons in which Michael entered your home once again. He did not kill today, nor did he feel the urge to do so.
Michael noted the fact that you were not in your living room. It didn’t take long for him to realise that you were in your bedroom. He wondered why it was that you were keeping yourself quiet and hidden from him. There was nothing else for you to hide from him anyway. He walked closer, where he heard it a good few feet away from him. It was the sound of you crying. The sound by itself was one of many noises that he was used to hearing, but never from you, which resulted in him being put on high alert. He stood by the door to your bedroom, lightly tapping against it with a knuckle. You quietened shortly after, your hand now on the door knob. He expected you to open it right after, but you seemed to hesitate.
“—’m sorry, Michael. I’m.. I’ll be out soon, give me a second.” You sniffled through your assurance. Michael backed away from the door, standing still as he waited. There was now the soft sound of the doorknob being twisted, the door opening to reveal you before the killer. Now that you did so, he began to assess the situation and the state you were in.
While you tried to wipe away the tears that streaked down your cheeks, the puffiness of your eyelids and the distressed demeanour you exuded gave everything away. Michael didn’t know what it was, but what followed after struck his chest hard, as if someone swung their bat and had it made contact with his chest. There he felt tide of negative emotions that swept over him, now with words that he learned from you to describe what it was he felt.
Unbridled rage took over his body, an especially strong emotion that he initially was surprised to know he had, but it felt especially accurate to describe it as such. To him, it felt as though the world around him began to quickly quieten itself at the sheer malice that emanated from his person as his vision turned red. Your words began to sound muffled as he ignored all that was around him, his mind immediately zeroing in on what—or who, in this case—that had you end up in the way you were. He felt his previously dormant bloodlust spike once he had a name to his target. Michael realised that in that very moment, you had become the prized item that he unknowingly sought after from when he was a little boy—one that truly interested him, one that he felt had to be earned—unlike the however many toys that ended up in his way. In which by some stroke of luck, it had fallen into his hands right after he had made that decision to leave the sanatorium. To him, you were something that he now had to look after in his own way, in fear of you enduring harm as you had right now.
Michael’s vision cleared, the red quickly dissolved once he heard you call for him. Your voice seemed to pierce through the rage that he had momentarily, having him glance at your face. You made an attempt to assure him that you would be alright later on, resulting in the man staring back at you, eyes peeking through the mask unamused. He moved toward you, his gaze softening to an considerable degree as he nodded to you in way as if asking you to return to your bedroom. You attempted to protest, but the words quickly died in your throat as you saw how tightly clenched his fists were. You sighed and nodded, retreating to your bed, hearing the door shut behind you.
The killer was quick to leave your home, knowing that there was a target for him to take care of.
—
It was now nighttime when Michael returned to your home. He made sure that there was no blood present on him, knowing you would connect the pieces if he came back as he usually did.
What he didn’t expect was you bounding over him, concern over your features now as you looked all over him.
“You had me worried, Michael.” For what? He wondered, standing still as you lightly touched him—checking him over for any particular injury you presumed he might be concealing from the human eye. You worry too much. Michael sighed quietly, shaking his head to dismiss your concerns. You sighed, accepting his response.
“Alright… Okay. How about we eat dinner, then? I’ve already prepared it.” You offered before waiting for his response. He nodded, observing your expression turning into one similar to delight. You made your way toward the dining room, leaving Michael on his own by the backdoor. Visiting your home had brought upon many different experiences that were new and unknown to Michael. As he was, the killer began to acknowledge multiple things about himself that he believed to be fact and the truth itself.
Your words had its way to disturb his line of thought and the engrained beliefs he had about himself. Your thoughts and explanations had even challenged the very idea that he was evil incarnate and that he was… human.
You gave him answers, for the better or for the worse, Michael didn’t care. Because of you, he learnt about the feelings that he had. Because of you, he was acknowledging the parts of him that made him human, and that had him realise he was not as emotionless as he was described and portrayed whenever he was with you. To others who have encountered him, he didn’t care that they saw him as such, knowing how reputation affected those deeply in the town of Haddonfield.
In the end, Michael found himself acknowledging a thought that he had been originally unsure of. Now, he was sure it was definite.
Michael was certain toward the idea of him liking you.
I hope you enjoyed reading this, I am really sorry for any poor quality you might detect!
Hopefully this rendition of Michael Myers that I have written is alright as well!!
If it is alright, please reblog this post! (:
Once again, thank you again for reading and Happy New Years!!
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merry christmas and happy holidays to everyone who celebrates it! 🎄
and a happy new year :)
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I’m back and so ready to write again! My requests are open so feel free to spam me 🙌
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Can you do a platonic sibling request for Dustin Henderson of Dustin being an overprotective baby brother seeing his older sister hurt when they reunite after she was in the Upside Down (the first time)?
DUSTIN HENDERSON BEING THE OVERPROTECTIVE LITTLE BROTHER
gender neutral reader | only use of „you“ and „y/n“
pairing: brother!dustinhenderson x sibling!reader
plot: in the request.
trigger warnings: mention of wounds, blood, pain and demogorgon. basically stranger things stuff lol. English isn’t my first language!
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Ten. Ten hours since you were going to the upside down with Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley.
The clock was ticking. Sweat dripping off of Dustin’s forehead due to the stress and nervousness that he feels when the hours are slowly passing.
Oh, he was worried about you. It was your first time going to the upside down and you haven’t really seen any Demogorgons or any upside down monster at all. Dustin told you that it wouldn’t be a good idea and that you should rather stay at home with him so guys can watch movies and eat popcorn but..
Your friends needed your help and support so you decided to give it a shot and be brave. Especially since you wanted to prove to everyone that you are not a scared little lamb, no you are strong and brave. You can easily do that. Fighting against some mysterious monsters that are haunting Hawkins is easy, isn’t it? Mhm totally.
When you and the others came through the front door, dustin jumped from the couch and ran towards you. „Y/N FINALLY!“, he said, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly. „I was so worried. Do not do that ever again, you hear me!“
You laughed at him and hugged back. „Dustin would you please not hold me this tightly, you’re kinda pressing against my wound. And that shit hurts.“
You let go of him and walked towards the couch, just letting yourself fall on it. Closing your eyes and wanting to relax but someone has other plans..
„Did you just say that you have a wound? HELLO? Are you bleeding? Does it hurt? Is everything okay?! Talk to me!!“
„Ugh, Dustin I’m fine. I wrapped a bandage around it and the pain is not this immense. I’ll live.“
„How did that happen?“
„We were running away from this weird noises and I tripped and fell on a rock.“
„Ouch. I think we should go to the doctors tomorrow. By the way, did you see any monsters?“
„No we do not and I did. One of those slimy, slim and tall monsters with sharp teeth and no eyes. What was their name again?“
„Yes we do and their name is Demogorgon.“
„Right, yeah. They were creepy. But thanks to El for saving us.. Wanna order pizza and watch a movie? That’s what you wanted to do earlier, right?“
„YES. I’ll get the phone and the movie. We’re gonna watch nightmare on elmstreet.“
„Yeah, hell no. It’s gonna end up into nightmares in Hawkins. Remember last time you watched Halloween and couldn’t sleep for one entire month? Yeah I’m not gonna get through that again.“
„Ugh, fine. What about The Karate Kid?“
„Yes, we can watch that. I’ll just go shower and change in fresh clothes, okay? You can get the delivery service number and choose a pizza so I can order it.“
Dustin was so happy that you came back safely and he was proud of you. His big sibling was brave and a great role model.
#dustin henderson#dustin henderson x reader#dustin henderson x you#stranger things 4#stranger things#hawkins#joyce byers x reader#jonathan byers#eleven#millie bobby brown#finn wolfhard#mike wheeler#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#steve harrington#eddie munson
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hi, can you do headcanons about klaus mikaelson being in love with you?
heyy, yes i can! hope you like this.
KLAUS MIKAELSON BEING IN LOVE WITH YOU WOULD INCLUDE..
gender neutral reader! only use of "you" or "y/n"
warnings: english isn`t my first language. not proofread! I wrote this when I was half asleep, so sorry for any grammar mistakes.
he would be very confident around you. trying to let his charm work on you.
he wouldn’t want to admit it to himself at first. lying to himself. he just doesn’t want you to get involved into anything dangerous.
that’s also the reason he acts cold around you after new vampire attacks happened in New Orleans. he just doesn’t want to see you get hurt because he would blame himself for the end of time.
klaus isn’t one to fall in love fast or often. so be sure that when he really falls in love with someone then he means it and he would do anything in his power to get you to love him back.
he always compliments you.
he always smiles when he sees you. you just make him so happy and whenever he sees you, everything starts making sense to him.
literally can’t stop talking about you to Elijah.
if Elijah starts laughing about him (which he would never) klaus would get the dagger out.
klaus has a lot of pride and is very stubborn so believe me when I tell you, that you’ll have to say the first „I love you“.
in terms of asking you out or flirting with you, he’s pretty direct and more of a „straight to the point“ guy.
he would show you around his art gallery and teach you how to paint.
when you first saw all the paintings he made of you, you realised that he was in love with you. I believe it’s a love language of his. just painting you and hanging those paintings around the mansion for everyone to see.
he took in every detail of you. you were very special to him.
he always looks out for you and protects you with his life.
he gets jealous and possessive easily just like all his siblings. he has trust and commitment issues but he truly just needs someone to talk to him and to care for him as much as he would love to care and look out for you.
when talking to him about topics like jealousy he would try to understand and stop himself anytime he takes it too far but really we all know how Klaus is.
he loves talking to you. it’s calming him down and he loves listening to your perfect heartbeat whilst laying in bed with you.
he just loves you for you. nothing needs to be changed. you are perfect the way you are.
in his eyes you are the most beautiful human walking earth and he loves to show everyone just how beautiful you are.
this man really loves you.
#klaus mikaelson x reader#the vampire diaries#klaus mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diares imagine#the vampire diares icons#tvd imagine#tvdu x reader#tvd x reader#tvdu#tvd fandom#tvd klaus#klaus mikaelson edit#mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x you#mikaelson x reader#original vampire#to#legacies#vampires#vampire
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Hey!! So I was wondering if you could right an imagine (or multiple if u want, the more the merrier lmfao) About Bane from the Batman Trilogy?
Maybe one where he finds the reader injured while he’s taking over Gotham and she’s like a well known villain, so he orders his men to take her and she’s like in n out of consciousness, so patches her up and he like vows to protects her or something?
Then later she becomes a sidekick for him and he looks out for her :)
P.S if you are reading this I don’t think he would be all fluffy w the reader (As much as i love it) but I genuinely think he would have a soft spot for her tho haha 😊 Maybe they would have a jokey relationship like a teasing kinda humour
Also yes I have SEVERE daddy issues x
Heyy! Thank you very much for this request!! I feel like Bane is such an underrated character and deserves more recognition. If you’d like another part then feel free to request it, i would love to turn this into a series. I hope you enjoy this!
BANE TAKING CARE OF VILLIAN!READER AFTER THEY GOT INJURED
part 1 / x
pairings: bane x reader
gn!reader | only use of „you“ or „y/n“
warnings: injuries, fainting, blood, villain stuff. english isn’t my first language. not proofread!
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A new Villain in Gotham meant new and more trouble. He calls himself Bane and he’s a very smart and dangerous man. He wants to take over Gotham and has already created a lot of chaos.
It was on a Saturday when you turned on the TV in your apartment to watch the news. Slumping into the couch and not really expecting anything fun to happen. That’s when you noticed that every News Channel talked about the same thing: „Stadium being completely destroyed“, „Explosion in Gothams well known stadium“, „Bane takes over Gotham“
Oh, he immediately captured your interest. Finally some action in Gotham. This means that Batman would crawl out of his shadow and you have the chance to defeat him.
You packed everything together: weapons and your special knife. You put your suit on and got out of the door, walking straight into the chaos.
The stadium was burning down and the fire grew impossibly stronger. The city was captured in black clouds. You were intoxicated by this view. All you’ve ever wanted and someone else succeed in it: seeing Gotham being taken over and it’s heart (the stadium) burning down. Slowly you made your way over to the stadium, maybe you would be able to get to know this „Bane“.
People were running away from the explosion whilst you were running towards it. Cars were everywhere on the street. Buildings around you were caught in flames. The sound of people screaming and crying filled the city. You were almost there. So near. You recognised a car that you saw on the news today. Does it belong to Bane? You were looking through the car windows: nothing. You kept walking but then realised that some of the cars caught flames and started burning. Suddenly they started to explode. One after the other. The black cloud was now surrounding you.
„Oh, fuck!“, was the last thing you said when the force of an explosion pushed you against a wall and caused you to black out. You were left lying on the ground, injured and in pain.
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Bane was proud. He was so proud that he finally took over Gotham. His plan worked just perfectly. Everyone was distracted with the explosion and batman is still not in sight.
Bane was heading back to the headquarters when he received a call from a guy in his team. He told Bane that they found you blacked out and injured, left alone on the street. Bane knew exactly who you were, he heard of you in the news. The infamous Y/N. One of the most known villains in Gotham.
He always waited for this moment. To finally meet someone who thinks the exact same way like him. Of course, the men in his team are evil and cruel too but you are something else. He could take over the world with you by his side.
„Take Y/N with you and bring them to the headquarters. Now.“
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You woke up on a bed, feeling dizzy and sick. You had a heavy headache and could feel all the bruises forming on your skin. You tried to remember what happened and realised that you aren’t in your apartment. You slowly sat up and looked around the room.
A big room. The walls painted in a dark green, a big and soft bed, a small window and a fireplace. You started questioning where you are. If this person would want to harm you, they would’ve handcuffed you in their basement right? But they didn’t. They literally put you in this big bedroom to rest. But who did this?
You slowly remembered what happened but still couldn’t think of the someone who „rescued“ you.
That’s when the door slowly opened up and heavy footsteps approached the room. When the person came to view you were more than just shocked.
„Hello Y/N. How are you feeling?“, he said dryly.
It was Bane. He rescued you. But why? And how did he even know where you were?
„Uh, I’m feeling okay for the circumstances. Why am I here?“
„My team found you blacked out on the street. You are pretty inured and I still have to check on your injuries. I hope you don’t mind.“, he said in a stoic tone.
„I can do that myself.“
„You’re stubborn. In any other given situation I would like that but you are in my headquarters and I make the decisions here.“
„I can do that myse-“, suddenly you were blacked out again.
Bane rushed to your side and put a cold, wet cloth on your forehead to wake you up. He checked your temperature: nothing odd. Must be a concussion.
Slowly you were waking up, reaching for his hand.
„You just proved, that you, in fact, can not do it yourself.“
„I feel miserable. My head is gonna explode and my limbs hurt so. bad.“
„I’m here now. I will protect you from now on. I swear.“, he said as he gently squeezeed your hand.
„You swear? Why do you even care for me?“
„You’re gonna be a part of my team. A very important part. I’ll protect you no matter what happens.“
You suddenly have this fuzzy feeling in your stomach. It’s what they call butterflies, you suppose. You don’t have feelings for Bane now, do you? You realise that you’re holding his hand this whole time and pull your hand away from his.
„Aw, look who gets all soft. I thought you were the man who just blew up gothams stadium with a bunch of people sitting in there. And now you’re here caring for me as if we’re an old couple. Seriously I can take care of myself on my own. I never needed anyone.“ What you said was true, you never needed anyone to help you but sometimes you did want to have a partner to love and take care of. Someone who is as crazy and evil as you. Someone who wants to cause chaos and see the city burn down. And Bane could be that someone but you can’t find the right words.
„Like I said: you are in my team now so I’ll protect you. It’s not because of you. It’s because of me. You could help me with taking over this city. Become my partner in crime.“, he said grabbing bandaids out of a first aid kit.
„Now if you would stop being so fucking stubborn, I could help you with this wounds and let you get some rest.“
You said nothing in response to that. Indicating to him that he can get the work done.
——————————————————————————
After he patched you up, he left the room to let you rest. You were thinking about what he said. Maybe being in his team wasn’t so bad after all..
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To be continued..
Should I turn this into a series? Tell me what you think in the comments! :)
#batman#batman begins#batman imagine#batman x you#batman x reader#batman fandom#bane#tom hardy x reader#tom hardy#the dark knight rises#the dark knight#villains#ledger joker x reader#joker#christian bale x reader#christian bale#oneshot#bane oneshot#tom hardy x you#Tom Hardy x y/n#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#jonathan crane imagine#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#catwoman#selina kyle x you#selina kyle x reader
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Everyone go follow @good-bi-vibes !! Their Blog is amazing and very underrated. Feel free to send them some requests. You can check out what fandoms they’re writing for on their blog :)
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Headcanons for Scarecrow
When threatening hostage, the hostage goes "That's kinda hot." No shame afterwards.
JONATHAN CRANE TAKING YOU HOSTAGE
gn!reader | only use of „you“
pairing: jonathan crane x reader
genre: idk just a lot of tension 😭
warnings: holding someone hostage, threatening someone, toxins, chocking. mention of killing, hurting someone and torture. suggestive language at the end. english isn’t my first language. NOT PROOFREAD!!
First thing you realise when you wake up is, that you’re sitting on a chair, handcuffed and with a piece of tape covering your mouth. someone has taken you hostage and you can’t remember how they got you here. The place looks like an old Warehouse.
You try to free yourself from the handcuffs to no success. That’s when you hear sharp footsteps that get closer and closer to you. Someone puts their hands on your shoulders and turns your chair around so that you face them.
„Well look who just woke up. Isn’t it fascinating how the first instinct that reaches the humans mind is to fight to survive, rather than just taking their fate in? Maybe your destined to die here.. through my hand.“, he says while smirking at you.
He slowly approaches you and quickly removes the tape from your mouth, causing you to let out a whine in pain. This just seems to amuse him even more as he begins to chuckle and brush some of your hair out of your face.
„You’re very beautiful.. it’ll be a shame to hurt you but I have to. After all I took you hostage for a reason, didn’t I, darling?“
You looked him in the eyes. Oh, how pretty his eyes are. And such a mesmerising face. The way he speaks makes you believe that he’s a very smart man. You can’t believe that you’re actually finding your kidnapper hot but here you are.. handcuffed to a chair and in a warehouse where no one will find you and you seriously check out your kidnapper.
He seems to have noticed that. „Like what you see? Oh, you’re a bad one, aren’t you?“
„Please don’t hurt me.“, you say and try to make him change his mind.
He gets very close to your face, mere inches away from your lips and whispers: „Oh darling, I will hurt you. In fact I might also kill you. But before doing so I will have to torture you, to get the truth out of you. Maybe I’ll use my toxins on you. What do you think?“
„That’s kinda hot.“, you whispered back at him without feeling any shame or regret afterwards. After all this man just threatened to kill you so why not also tell him the truth of how you feel about this situation.
Silence corrupts the room as he’s pulling away and looking at you in what seems like shock and admiration.
All of a sudden he wraps his hands around your throat and just slightly squeezes it. Enough to make you struggle with breathing but not enough to actually choke the life out of you.
„So you like it when someone’s threatening to take your life? When someone’s having control over you, mhm.. do you like that?“
You notice how the mood changes in that moment. The tension could be cut through with a knife and you both are hypnotised by each other. And in that moment you didn’t care what would happen tonight because you’ve never felt this way before and you want even more of this feeling.
„Take my handcuffs off and I’ll show you just how much I like it.“
#batman#batman begins#batman fandom#batman x reader#batman x you#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane imagine#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#batman imagine#the dark knight
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