#aprilmichael

[highdwightofmylife]

Michael with a virgin S/O ??

Michael With A Virgin S/O

Okay, so. 

Michael really likes the idea of owning something.

You haven’t slept with anyone before?

Well, guess fucking what.

Michael’s glad to hear it. 

I mean he’d probably get over it if you weren’t a virgin because I mean he’d just mark you to shit so much that you’d forget anyone else has ever touched you, but. 

That’s not my point.

You’re a virgin in this scenario. 

Not when Michael’s through with you. 

But now I’m rambling I’m sorry I’m getting off point.

Michael likes to own things. You haven’t fucked anyone else. You are untouched.

He likes that. He’s free to mark you as much as he wants, and it’ll only be he who has defiled you. 

He’ll look at all the little bruises he leaves and he will feel this swell of satisfaction. 

Because you’re his and he’s going to make sure you know that.

Also? You’re first time? Sorry sweetie, but Michael doesn’t know the meaning of the word gentle. 

It’ll be rough. 

He’ll likely have his hands on your throat. 

Mask is on, coveralls are only open enough so he can take out his dick. 

Your first time, unfortunately, is made all about what he wants. Because he’s a selfish bastard that lives for self pleasure. So he fucks you senseless and as soon as he’s done, that’s it. Won’t let you kiss him, won’t let you touch him. Maybe he holds your hands down. 

Because in his mind, you’re his thing. You do what he says. Or. I mean. He says nothing but (OMINOUS BREATHING) but you know what I mean.

Zips the overalls back up, gets up, leaves you in a drooling mess. 

Sorry honey. 

But that just be how he be, yknow.

And we love him for it.

[highdwightofmylife]

Can I ask for Michael with a s/o survivor killing another survivor and ending up a killer blease?

Michael When His S/O Becomes A Killer

Killing is so menial to him. He doesn’t understand why anyone would find it difficult, but then again, it’s not as if the man is capable of empathy. 

You were made into a survivor for a reason. You didn’t start with that anger; that need to hurt. You were just as doe-eyed as the rest of them. Terrified. Panicked. 

But that changes. People cope with the Entity’s Realm in different ways. They usually fall apart, piece by piece, until finally they are discarded as useless playthings. 

But not you. Your deterioration had been more so anger and feelings of helplessness rather than the void of terror that normally ends up breaking the survivors. 

It was in a trial. They were a new survivor. You’d never even seen them before. They wouldn’t stop screaming. They wouldn’t stop sobbing. 

Past-you might have comforted them, and yet...

The sound of that wailing made your blood boil. 

So you did the only thing that seemed reasonable -- at least, reasonable in your own mind. Whispers of the Entity sang like static as you crossed the line. 

Michael wasn’t expecting it. He’d been the killer of that trial. He’d saw what you did.

The sight of you with someone else’s blood on your hands was... Intriguing.

But he was angry. That was his kill. You took that from him.

And so you still died that trial. 

But consider him mildly surprised when you ended up stumbling into the killer’s camp. You were different. Warped. The Entity had changed you, just as it had to all the other killers. 

He doesn’t care. 

In fact, seeing you with blood on your hands... Seeing you gripping a knife... 

He liked it.

As long as you don’t dare point that shit anywhere near him because he will break your arm. He doesn’t take too kindly to even the thought of being threatened.

And...

Just don’t be taking his toys from him.

[highdwightofmylife]

Okay, I want your thoughts on Michael with a s/o who has a physical disability, e.g. in a wheelchair and such. Would he like carrying them around like a sack of potatoes

Michael With a S/O Who Has a Physical Disability

Honestly, Michael couldn’t give a shit. 

It’s a miracle you managed to get him to like you in the first place. Michael likes no one.

But I can’t lie here, if your disability prevents you for easily getting around, Michael will... Like it.

Because he likes the fact that he can easily keep an eye on you.

He views you as his property. 

So he likes that power he has over you.

If you ask him to take you somewhere, the chances are that he’s going to be a little shit and just. Refuse. Leave you were you are.

But if you fall asleep somewhere dumb or quite obviously need to be somewhere (and it’s important that you haven’t asked him), then he will just... Pick you up. Usually slings you over his shoulder. If you’re asleep he might carry you bridal :)

honestly just he likes to take charge 

So if you want to go somewhere, your best bet is to try an manipulate his thoughts. Remind him about a certain place and why it’d be neat if he goes there. 

And you know what the best way to do that is? 

“Oh, I think I remember stashing some candy in there...”

And you know he’d turn the room upside down looking for it, but he could just take you and you could tell him and then he’d get it faster.

So just. 

Keep candy everywhere. 

Or keep it in your pockets so you can casually just, “oh wait yeah I put it in here lmao here u go u big dumbass” while he fucking inhales the candy like the big ass gremlin he is

[highdwightofmylife]

ITS THE 19th! MICHAEL DAY! IM BEGGING FOR A CONTINUATION OF THE MICHAEL X READER X LAURIE

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMANDSo this one is focused more so on Michael now. Written more from his point of view than Laurie’s, like it was the last time.

Read part 1 here: https://highdwightofmylife.tumblr.com/post/615682105257639936/p-wait-fuck-would-you-be-cool-too-write-something

tw: death and blood but i mean if ur reading a michael fic then u should kind of expect these things

Michael / Reader / Laurie

His grip is iron-tight around the hilt of his knife. Moonlight dances across the ironworks of the MacMillan Estate, waltzing over the shimmer of his blade. He can see his reflection staring up at him from the sharp steel out of his peripherals; unmoving and placid. 

Michael never looks angry. The fake visage tells of no emotion, but what lies underneath is almost just as unrelenting. It’s hard to tell what’s more frightening.

You’re on the dirt. 

The tall monster is staring at you, his knuckles a pale white as he grips his weapon with such a terrifying force. You’re weakly holding onto your side, your fingers stained with a sodden crimson that’s leaking through the gaps of your hand. His knife still drips with you. It still sings for more. 

He takes a lumbering step forward, and the woman between you almost falters. Laurie. Her azure button-up is stained with dirt and blood, and her flared jeans are torn at the shin where she limps and struggles to hold her ground. She’s hurt, and yet here she stands. 

You try to speak. A whisper of her name tumbles from your lips, and her shoulders tense with panic. She can’t let anything happen to you.

Michael knows that. He’s been warned off before.

This changes nothing. 

Laurie is an obstacle. She’s in the way. He has no qualms about disposing of her. She was fun toy while she lasted; enough to pass the time and enough to feed the blood-lust that festered inside of him, but she’d run her course. She was boring.

She wasn’t you.

Michael’s hands found her throat in less that a second; darting out to wrap around her.

You were forced to watch your saviour be lifted from the ground as if she were nothing. Laurie thrashed, beating at his arms and his face with very little effect. Screams and chokes became gurgles. The thrashing became trembles of nerves. 

It was funny, Michael thought. All that time of failing to catch her, and now she draws her last breath over something so simple. Perhaps that was why she wasn’t as fun to toy with anymore. Her entertainment value had... well... Vanished.

She was dropped rather unceremoniously on the dirt. Broken, beaten, dead. 

You choked back a sob and tried to scramble back, but you knew you were done for. 

He was leering over you now. There was no barrier to keep him at bay. No protector. His twirled the knife in his hands and slowly lowered to a crouch, but he was still far larger than you. He reached out a palm; thick and dangerous. When you glanced down to it, there was a single blonde hair coiled around a finger. Laurie. It was more than enough to remind you that acting against him was futile. 

She tried to defy him, but you wouldn’t. 

[highdwightofmylife]

FOR DAHDEE

drawn by my bby @onyxthree-two