Muerte X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Curador (Death/Muerte/The Wolf | Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)

Summary — Muerte aches at the sight of you whenever he comes home.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Soulmate AU; helping a lover with their injuries (includes mentions of blood); established relationship; takes place directly after the movie; writers’ law states that every time an animated wolf comes into existence, I must write a fic; in my opinion, we should be calling him ‘Muerte’, so that’s what I’m going with; a huge thank you to my dear friend, Yoshino, for helping me with the Spanish translations.

Notes ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ You will receive the same injuries as your soulmate (unless deadly).  ➳ Since Muerte is Death (straight up), why not make Life? I envision the Reader in this to be a spotted deer, who will be referred to as ‘Vida’. And who knows? I might turn this into a one-shot series if people enjoy it enough. Let me know what you think! 

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The slamming of a door made your ears twitch. You paused, eyes narrowing as you listened to the creaking floors within your home. A damp cloth was pressed against the corner of your lip, dotted with small specks of blood. 

Footsteps slowly grew closer to your room. A quiet sigh escaped your lips when you realized who they belonged to. Having a lover with nearly silent movements did nothing but cause you panic sometimes. 

You returned your attention to the small mirror in your grasp. A shadow moved about the room and a cloak was tossed next to you on the bed. Looking up at the towering figure in front of you, your gaze found red eyes staring back at you. More specifically, staring at the cloth against your lip. 

“El gato lives,” he muttered, his deep voice sending shivers along your spine. “I have given him another opportunity to prove himself.” 

A small smile made itself known, “Is that why your attitude seems so foul?”

He hummed quietly, ignoring your teasing remark about the infamous Puss in Boots, whom he had been chasing for some time now. His startling eyes were still zeroed in on the cloth. 

“You really need to stop playing with your food, Muerte.” 

His eyes snapped to yours. They narrowed into slits, shining with irritation. He snapped his jaws to the side, huffing loudly as he looked away from you. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing quietly.

His claws wrapped around the hilt of one of his sickles. The mirror was quickly tugged away from you and tossed onto the bed. Your head was forced to tilt backwards as the sickle’s sharp blade was placed beneath your chin. 

Anyone else may have had fear coursing through their veins. You, however, weren’t worried at all. 

Muerte stepped closer until his paw could replace the blade. The sickle was quickly returned to its sheath while he looked down at you with a blank expression. You allowed him to tilt your head back even further as he took up the space between your thighs.

“Cállate, Vida,” he ordered.

His claws wrapped around the cloth, finally removing it from your lip. It, much like his cloak and your mirror, quickly disappeared from sight. Your injury reflected his own, signaling to the world that the two of you were a perfect pair. 

“It hurt when you got it,” you said. “I wasn’t expecting it.” 

His expression softened. You leaned into his touch as one of his claws caressed your cheek.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he muttered.

You gave him a small smile, along with a shrug of the shoulders, in an attempt to make him feel better, “It’s okay. No harm truly done.”

His grip loosened, allowing you to take his paw into your grasp and hold it in your lap instead. He lowered himself to his knees. Due to his tall stature, kneeling allowed his gaze to become even with your own as you sat on the bed.

“Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso,” he continued. “Por tu bien.” 

“I don’t,” you replied, squeezing his paw tightly. 

His brow furrowed and his eyes searched for any sign that you may have been lying to comfort him, “Mi corazón—” 

“It lets me know you’re still there,” you whispered. “It lets me know you’ll be coming home soon.” 

He tried to hide a smile, looking away from you. That only lasted for mere seconds, however, since he couldn’t resist your gaze for very long. His red eyes explored your features. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the cut on your lip. 

“Déjame ser tu curador,” he muttered, and then he kissed you again.

“Always, Muerte,” you whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek and pressing a gentle kiss against his nose. “Always.” 

Spanish Translations, In Order of Appearance: ➳ Curador (de enfermos) — Meaning “healer (of the sick)”.  ➳ Muerte — Meaning “death”. ➳ Vida — Meaning “life”.

➳ “El gato…” — “The cat…” ➳ “Cállate…” — “Shut up…” ➳ “Lo siento, mi amor.” — “I’m sorry, my love.”  ➳ “Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso… Por tu bien.” — “I wish we had a less painful bond… For your sake.” ➳ “Mi corazón…” — “My heart…”  ➳ “Déjame ser tu curador.” — “Let me be your healer.” 

can you do more love x muerte? angst to fluff maybe?

Of course anon! I love me some angst to fluff. I switch between Death and Muerte to avoid confusion.

Embracing Death

Death comes for everyone, no matter who they are or what they do, their life will come to an end. Death will come knocking at their door and collect them, whether they like it or not.

And it was true, Muerte did not discriminate who he takes. Rich or poor, human or animal, he collects their souls to the afterlife. He is the grim reaper, a force of nature who is neither good or evil. Muerte enjoyed what he does, especially when he collects the souls of sinners.

But he has seen tragedies too. Many times he has collected souls of the innocent, souls whose lives ended before their respective times. Muerte doesn't think of himself as soft, but taking the souls of children, young animals and creatures, it weighed heavily on him. He can't interfere with the living too much, otherwise he wouldn't be Death.

And Love noticed. She always did.

Normally, Muerte returned home with a satisfied smirk on his face. Pleased with himself for taking a soul who didn't value and appreciate their life.

But tonight she noticed his broad shoulders slumping with his head hung low, his expression blank. However, his crimson eyes showed his turmoil. He took off his hooded cloak and placed his sickles on the bedside table before sitting down on the bed, his ears flat against his head.

He was hunched over, his forearms resting on top of his thighs. He didn't even look up when she approached him, slowly moving to sit beside him, leaning her head on his arm.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, silence covering the room.

Muerte sighed deeply, "Lo siento mi amor. Ha sido un largo día."

She hummed in response, caressing his bicep.

"No need for apologies, moy dorogoy. What got you so down tonight?" She didn't want her beloved to keep all his negative feelings inside, otherwise it will leave him in a much more foul mood.

"....I had to collect four young souls today, mi amor. They were siblings, abandoned by their own parents." Muerte scoffed at that, those two don't deserve to be called parents for what they have done. So many people who want to have children but cannot, and yet those pedazo de mierda have the audacity to not value the lives of their own flesh and blood.

It makes his blood boil.

"That's terrible, they're terrible and I know you despise people like them, moya lyubov'. But think of it this way; the children are free from them and you brought them in a better place." She tried reasoning with him.

He stayed silent.

All she can do is stay by his side, until he feels better.

This wasn't the first time this happened and most definitely would not be the last. They don't need to talk, all they need was to be close together. Sometimes, Death needs a warm embrace, and Love happily gives it to him.

•°•°•°•

If yall want more, just send requests! Or if yall just want to thirst and simp over Death, just send an ask👀

I’d Love or Lisa the actual embodiment of Love itself like Muerte is Death, or is she a spirit OF love?

Lisa is an immortal creature that turned into a being of Love. I say she is the literal embodiment because the previous Love turned her into what she is today.

She became the literal embodiment of love when she returned to life because of a certain someone. 👀