Mothman and Me (Mothman x Reader)

The Lights

Oof. So I reread and my grammar was rough. Sorry guys. Also, I know that it's Point Pleasant, but my cracked out brain somehow forgot that. Sorry fam. Anyway, here's your bullshit.

A wheezing noise filled your ears. You could feel warmth on your neck, causing you to flinch. The stranger's grip on you tightened as he inspected your face. Red eyes peered into your soul. Your breath hitched as his fuzzy hands clutched your chin. "W-what do you want?" You asked, voice quivering. You squeezed your eyes shut, too afraid of what might happen next. Of course, he did not respond. He couldn't.

You began to sense that there was no way this could be a costume. It was him. The very creature that built the tourist industry of this town was in your house. In your house and up against you. For a moment, you tried to convince yourself that this was all a strange, realistic dream. You'd eaten a whole bag of Skittles, which seemed like a good idea at the time. Perhaps the extra sugar had contributed to this nightmare. Just when you had boiled this all down to indigestion, you felt the brush of antennae against your cheek and screamed. No, something this terrifying, this real could not be a dream. The Mothman was here. The thought itself made you release a second, more pitiful shriek.

As soon as the second sound left your mouth, the creature retracted its antennae and let out a high pitched wheeze. Suddenly, he let go of your wrist and stepped away from your tense body, allowing you to move. Did he understand you were uncomfortable? Does he not want you to be in pain?

Shocked at this strange change in behavior, you allowed yourself to open your eyes. The first thing you noticed were his eyes. Big. Red.Glowing. They were no different from traffic lights at the dead of night, bright enough to catch your attention and force you to stop. Upon further inspection, you noticed that they were not focused on you. No, the burning orbs were fixed on something just behind your head. Out of curiosity, you turned to see what had caught his attention. You weren't exactly sure what you expected the object to be, but you surely did not think that your town's legend would be so fixated on the string of glowing ghosts you had hung up as decoration. Then it hit you: he was a moth. Moths were attracted to light due to some stupid instinct that often lead them to their untimely death. You couldn't help but to let out a breathless chuckle. Mothman, the Mothman, was in fact real. Real and in your house. Real, in your house, and obsessed with some idiotic Halloween decorations. You weren't certain which was funnier, the aforementioned situation or that you actually believed this was the famed cryptid. As a result, your chuckle soon led to a giggle, which quickly spiraled off into full-blown laughter. A conglomeration of fear, disbelief, and hysteria somehow lead to a cackle-fest. Said cackle-fest lead to you losing it on the floor. You'll admit, this wasn't your most dignified moment.

To your utter surprise, Mothman broke his gaze with the lights and crouched down to get closer to you, albeit reluctantly. He cocked his head to the side, antennae twitching at unsteady intervals. You did not know why, but you got the impression that he was making sure you were okay. That notion was nearly confirmed when he reached out his fuzzy hand as an invitation to help you up. Having nothing left to lose, you accepted his offer and clamored to your feet. After pulling your hand away, you took note of the dusty residue left behind by your odd visitor. The sight added to the width of your goofy grin. "So you like my lights, huh?" Mothman's antennae bent forward and backward, which you assumed was his equivalent of a nod. His wheezing seemed to intensify. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that a few illuminated spirits were hung in view of your window. He must have seen them from outside. You shook your head with a grin. "Well, buddy, I have a gift for you." Carefully, you pulled off the battery-operated string lights off of the wall, and draped them around his head like an oversized necklace.

As you did so, the hue of the creature's eyes appeared to brighten, and he gave an excited chirp. His wings fluttered, sending a cloud of dust through the air and into your living room. It was almost cute. He continued to let out chirps and soft coos while he adjusted the gift you had just bestowed him, glancing in your direction with gratitude.

"Well, I'm glad you like it, dude. Just, uh, just don't break into people's house at weird times of night and push them against the door. They might get the wrong idea. Promise you won't do that again, because i thought you were going to murder me for a second. If you want some lights, ask politely." The words coming out of your mouth stunned you, but you did not stop them. Deep in your gut, you knew that the Mothman did not want to harm you, despite the terrible stories you had heard. After his reaction to your offering, that fact became plainly clear. He wasn't malevolent, he just had bad manners.

In response, he repeated the antennae bowing gesture he had done early and fluttered his wings. This time, the amount of dust made you sneeze. He seemed concerned for a second, but then quickly diverted all attention to his glowing accessory.

"I don't know if I'm hallucinating because of some drugs in my candy or if this is real, but it was nice to meet you Mr., uh, Man? Mr. Moth? Mr. Mothman? You get the point." You waved your hands around in a frantic motion. Mothman just happily wheezed in your direction, enamored by the lights adorning his pelt. "But, uh, I kind of have to go to work tomorrow, and I need to get some sleep. Do you think you could...you know?" Your eyes wandered over to the door.

The moth's antennae shot up, and he too looked over to the door. Giving a rather strong wheeze, he gently pushed you out of his way. After a few second of fumbling with the doorknob (the reflections in the metal must have been very distracting), he had managed to show himself out.

You followed him, curious as to what the gentle monster would do next. He seemed to notice this, turning around briefly to give you a parting chirp. Once in your driveway, he expanded his wings to their gargantuan length and lifted himself off the ground. You waved at the local celebrity as he flew off into the night, truly wishing him the best. Earlier had been a misunderstanding, and he deserved a second chance. Speaking of second chances, you planned on taking a second chance on sleeping. That is, if you weren't already.