Dark!Experiment!EnglandXReader

I won't let you have anyone else,

Master I love you,

Arthur Kirkland, a blond Brit with caterpiller eyebrows, was the victim of an experiment. He'd been taken the night he accepted drinks from a stranger, a choice he regretted more and more each day.

As it turned out, he wasn't the only victim; many others around his age had also been taken and experimented on. They were trying to mix the DNA of an animal with a human's to create a sort of hybrid. The idea was crazy, and yet it worked.

 Arthur had been the only one to survive the process and, when he woke up, he found himself with a pair of soft, velvety bunnt ears. His captors sounded very pleased that night, going on about how Arthur would make them famoud. The words they spoke chilled him to the bone. They were planning to show him off as a "human freak", make money off those who wished to see the rabbit man.

So Arthur had done the only thing he could: he ran away. His new rabbit DNA made the Brit much faster and far quicker on his feet, so that was no problem. The hard part was figuring what to do now that he was free.

He was now branded as a human freak show, at this rate he'd have to join a circus just to get by.

 It was when he thought his life was over that he met ____. Just thinking about you could bring a smile to Arthur's lips. He'd been pondering what his plan would be in the woods(it's not like he could go anywhere near civilazation now) when you came along.

 ____ liked walking through the woods,you enjoyed observing the plants and wildlife, though you certainly didn't expect to come across a man with blue bunny ears. Ignoring those strange ears, you'd approached him and asked if he was alright. The only word you could get out of him was "experiment", though it gave you a pretty good idea of what happened.

Based off his scruffy apperance and scratched face, ___ had a feeling this guy needed help, so you asked if he wanted to stay with you for a while. You might've asked if he wanted a free mansion fro the way he smiled. He jumped to his feet and wrapped his arms around you.

 You did manage to get two more words out of him; he'd whispered the words "thank you" in your ear.

I'm a pretty blue rabbit,

Here is my territory,

Bunnies aren't exactly known for their possesivness over territory, but it seems the bunny those men had gotten their DNA from had been, for Arthur found himself getting more and more possesive over you with each passing day.

 ____ had bought a hat to cover his ears whenever they went outside of her house, though he wished they didn't have to leave; for outside of that place were man who posed a threat. If another man even dared to look your way, Arthur would grab your had and shoot the unlucky bastard a look that told him to back off.

____ was his. He was ___'s.

 You were his master, and he was your bunny, so to speak. Or maybe even more.

 The Brit's cheeks flushed bright red. He was a virgin who'd never "seen" a woman, save for the times when Francis used to come over to his house and force him to watch porn. Still, sometimes he would imagine you underneath him, bright red and panting. Whenever such thoughts crossed his mind, he would mentally slap himself. Even now, he still was proud to be a gentleman, but sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

 He loved it when you held his hand, your skin was so soft. He wondered if the rest of your body was just as soft.

 God, how he wanted to find out.

If someone ever takes you from me,

I'd rather eat you,

Grinning from ear-to-ear, the Brit rushed to your room, nervous but, at the same time, giddy with excitment.

Tonight was finally the night he would work up the courage to ask you out for dinner. He stopped out side your door, taking a deep breath before rapping his knuckles on the door.

"Come in!"

 The grinning returning to his lip, he obliged, letting himself in- only to stop dead in his tracks. You were in a black sleeveless dress that hugged your body nicely. While your hair was normally pulled back in a messy ponytail, you'd let it down tonight.

 Oh God, you were so beautiful.

 "Arthur?" You questioned, furrowing your eyebrows. The Brit realised his mouth was hanging open and he quickly shut it, turning bright red. "Are you alright?"

 Arthur suddenly seemed very interested in the wood floor. "Yes, I'm fine, love. What are you getting dressed up for?"

Did you know that he was planning to ask you out? Either you were much better at reading emotions that he'd thought, or you had powers he didn't know about. You didn't answer him at first, for you were a little busy putting lipstick you, pouting your lips. You frowned at the waxy taste before turning back to the Brit. "I'm going out on a date tonight!" You grinned. "Isn't that great?" Your smile quickly slipped off your face when you saw the look of horror on his face.

 Arthur looked at you in complete and utter horror. What the bloody hell were you talking about? You were his, his and no one elses!

 You forced a smile, trying to hide your discomfort; that look in his eyes was scaring you. "Well, I think I'd better get going."

 You walked to the door, but a hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist. "No. No, you're not." He was really freaking you out now, and you tried to wiggle free, but his grip only tightened. "I won't let you belong to anyone else, you hear me?" He suddenly grabbed your shoulders. "You're mine, ___!"

 You jerked free, sprinting out of your room. The Brit followed, determined to catch you.

 You knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to you, and indeed his did, cornering you in the kitchen. Reaching for one of the kitchen knives, his green eyes met yours. "I won't let any one else have you, ___." He whispered, raising the knife.

"I won't."

You died in red,

Master we'll be together forever,

Arthur sat in the living room, your head in his lap, running his fingers through your hair. He lifted you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your bloody body, closing his eyes and smiling. "Now, see? Aren't you glad you stayed home with me?"

 He recieved no answer, not that he'd really expected one. He buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"I love you, ____."

This is a poor blue red rabbit song,