[18+ Yandere Meowscarada x Reader] I'll Make Them All Disappear!

🎃 Halloween Special | Too Cute to Spook

Flashback Chapter 06.

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October of last year, two months after
Floragato evolved into Meowscarada...

It goes without saying: you're too old for trick-or-treat. That little boy, who was once eligible for ringing every doorbell in sight and plucking handfuls of candy from Take One! bowls, is gone. You've grown, you're nineteen now—nineteen, just a few months and some change short of delving into the twenties where most people (you'd like to assume) either ruin their life for good or get lucky enough to settle down and have kids. At that point, Halloween does a full reversal on them, and without so much as an eyeblink they're standing behind the same doors they remember ringing for candy ten years ago.

That's gonna be you. Best believe it. Your life isn't ruined, not quite yet, and you've never dreamt of having kids, but you're bound to be slinging goblets of chocolate out at the children as they streak by. You're even all set for the night; three plump family-size bags of assorted candy stored away in the pantry; an inflatable zombie prop and bat (Noibat) decorations for outside. In the event you get lazy later on and don't feel like standing at the door as—count 'em, one, two, three-hundred—kids clamber up and down your porch for free candy, you bought one of those big bowls you can just set outside on a table or something.

Meowscarada did the honors of writing the sign that says Take One! Except it doesn't say that. Her sign reads: Tae Wo!

Pretty good for a Pokémon's first attempt at writing, you guess. Your first thought had been taekwondo, and that had you giggling like a madman. Meowscarada realized you were making fun, pouted like a child, slapped you across the face, and disappeared into the bedroom.

Since then, you've been kicking it on the couch with a heated blanket over your shoulders (it's pretty cold today), Halloween movies on the TV you're not really paying attention to because you're texting Avery instead. Every now and again a strange ache will squeeze your wrist, but you pay it no mind.

Avery sends a picture of a mutilated bag of candy and the culprit, Vaporeon, bursting her paw through the plastic. You send back a meme of a cat pointing and laughing obnoxiously. Avery's response is quick: