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monstersarecuties · 4 years ago

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Hi, sweetheart! I just found your blog and i think your writings are wonderful. I think you are very talented about writing. Can i request a headcanon for Michael, Brahms and Billy's reaction to an artist reader who bought their house and use it as a studio and living space. They almost don't go outside. They fiiled a room with canvases and paint tubes but their art is... Let's say it may cause a trauma if someone sees them. Like full of blood and massacre images. And they started to like her.💖

These got pretty long so they’re under the cut 😂

Michael, Brahms, and Billy. His future s/o buys his house, using it as a living space and a studio for their very macabre art:

Michael Myers

The house had been up for sale for a long time but had no buyers. Nobody wanted to buy the house where the infamous Michael Myers grew up and committed his first murder. So, it remained empty.

Which was great for Michael because it meant that it was somewhere he could hideout. After all, even he needed to eat and sleep from time to time.

But then, by some miracle, somebody bought it. It had been the cause of some surprise and gossip among the rest of the town.

You were new to the town but had been informed of the history of the house, they had to disclose that information after all. They expected you to withdraw your interested but you took it with little hesitation. Maybe it had been your interest in the macabre.

Michael wasn’t happy about this.

No only would somebody being living in his home but he now wouldn’t be able to use the space.

But he was curious, even if his plan was to just kill you and take back his home.

So he watched you.

He actually watched you for some time.

You seemed to be doing a lot of decorating, storing old furniture and bringing in your own. But at least you weren’t throwing it away...

He got as close as he could without alerting you to his presence and ever watching gaze.

He wanted to explore the house some more, see how you had changed it, but you barely ever left.

Finally, you had to leave to do some grocery shopping.

And Michael took the opportunity to explore.

Most of the house had actually been left alone, the old furniture that was still usable was where it belonged, just cleaner. But you had added your own belongings.

It seemed that you had turned the living room, the largest and brightest of the rooms, into an art studio. Your easels, canvas, sketchbooks, pencils, paints, anything else you liked to used, scattered around the room in an organised chaos.

As Michael moved around the house he would find more of your works he would find.

Normally Michael didn’t care about the hobbies of his victims, or of anyone for that matter, but this was interesting.

All of your paintings were...morbid, for the lack of a better word.

All your works seemed to portray blood and gore, massacres and death, violence and chaos. All the things that normally made people uncomfortable, you used it in your art.

Now Michael was genuinely curious about you.

He even found himself picking up one of your sketchbooks and flipping through it, curious about the rest of your work. It all had similar themes.

Placing the book down, Michael slipped back out of the house only moments before you returned.

He started to watch you more, wondering about you.

Why did these things interest you? Did you find some sort of positive emotion from them or are you interested in how uncomfortable they make people? Is there a sick part of you that is just fascinated by it? How much real life experience do you have with the macabre?

How would you react to real gore? If you were to be presented with one of the scenes you painted but in the flesh? Would you run or would you be just as interested?

Perhaps what he was starting to ask himself was...how would you react to him?

You must have known who he was and what he’s done, since the information had been disclosed when you bought the house. Was he part of the reason you purchased the house in the first place?

He just couldn’t help but wonder about you.

There was still so much to learn, so he would just watch you for a little longer.

Slowly getting closer to you, getting more confident with his ‘visits’. He’d be in the living room while you slept upstairs, looking at your latest works.

You had started to notices that various painting and sketches where getting moved around. At first you thought you were just misplacing things, maybe you needed to take a break, but now you were starting to think that something else was going on.

You were living in the Myers house, the house where the Shadow of Haddonfield once lived. You couldn’t help but let it effect your work, some pieces being inspired by Michael Myers himself. You just couldn’t help it.

You knew it was insensitive considering the tragedy he had brought to the town but nobody had to see them, these pieces were just for you.

Those pieces also happened to be Michael’s favourites, one might have even gone ‘missing’.

These were even more interesting to Michael, that you had taken inspiration from him for your art.

You’re just so...interesting.

Yes, Michael is starting to like you. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that you bought and moved into his house.

Perhaps he’d have to let you meet the inspiration for these newest pieces sometimes.

Hopefully you won’t react so bad that he’ll have to kill you, that would be a real shame.

Brahms Heelshire

The thought of somebody actually buying his house infuriated Brahms but he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Maybe he could just dispose of you and make it look like a home invasion?

This was his home after all.

Yes, it might have been getting boring up in the house all alone but it was better than having strangers live there. People he didn’t know or trust.

But it was only one person, only you, so it wasn’t the end of the world even if it was starting to feel like it.

When you arrived, you moved your stuff in but didn’t move anything out. Which Brahms silently appreciated.

You actually seemed fond of the furniture that was already in the house, just cleaning it up properly instead of getting rid of it.

The first week consisted of you getting settled and Brahms just watching.

You moved your belongings in, claiming the largest bedroom as your own and personalising it some more.

Alright...he could live with that.

You had stepped into the child’s room and frowned to yourself. You knew the past of the house, it had been disclosed when you bought it (it had also been the reason you got such a good deal), and it just felt wrong to disturb the room.

For now you would leave it, and Brahms was happy about that. Maybe you wouldn’t be so bad, you would at least keep the house clean...so...you’re alright for now.

But then you started moving around the furniture in the living room. It was the largest, brightest, and most open space, and you thought it would be perfect for your studio.

Brahms didn’t like the changes you were making.

You still weren’t getting rid of anything, just moving it out of the way to give you more space and to make sure you didn’t stain any of it.

Then you set up your art supplies, even having some time that evening to continue with a painting you had started just before moving in.

That night, after you went to sleep, Brahms crept out of the walls to investigate some more.

He moved around the lounge quietly, examining the new stuff you had brought in.

It was all art stuff. You were an artist...well, at least that is interesting.

But as Brahms examined the piece he had seen you working on that evening, he realised that maybe it wasn’t quite the type of painting he had expected.

It was all just so...morbid...

Gore and blood, death and destruction. It made him cringe a little.

But you were very talented...he had to admit that.

He spent all night going through your art, finding that they all had similar themes. All morbid.

He couldn’t help but wonder why...what about all this awful stuff interested you and kept inspiring you?

It was supposed to make people uncomfortable but apparently not you, you welcomed it in your art. How very intriguing.

He started watching you for a different reason after that. His cautiousness turning into curiosity.

You didn’t seem...bad.

You didn’t seem like you would enjoy that stuff.

In fact, he often saw you smiling softly to yourself, sometimes even humming.

You hadn’t touched his childhood bedroom because you had felt empathy for the family and their past.

You had been polite and kind to the men who helped you move your belongings.

And he admittedly thought it was cute when you would get a smudge of paint on your cheek without noticing.

How could somebody who seemed so sweet and so normal, create such morbid art?

He supposed it was a little interesting though.

He’d keep you around for a while...just to learn more, that’s all.

He noticed that you kept the portrait of himself and his parents up. He didn’t know why. Maybe you respected the art, maybe you respected the family that once owned the house and didn’t take it down for the same reason you left his bedroom untouched.

Either way, he appreciated it. And it made him all the more confused as to why your art focused on such dark subjects.

You’d been living there for a few months now.

You noticed some weird things happening. Things moving around or going missing, mostly your belongings or smaller pieces of art.

Some items would show back up out of nowhere, making you even more curious as too where they had disappeared too.

Brahms continued to watch you, liking you much more than he did when you first arrived.

He saw how you were confused by the occurrences around the house but you didn’t seem scared and you never ran away.

That was a good sign.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be too much longer before he let you know that you actually had a housemate this whole time.

Billy Lenz

Once again, of course you know the history of the house. At least you knew that it used to be a sorority house, where numerous young women were murdered.

And yet you still bought the house, perhaps against your better judgement.

Billy actually isn’t that mad about somebody buying the house. It’s just the next person he can mess with.

Would probably be more annoyed if a family were to move into the house but it’s just you so he’ll be fine.

He sees you a soon as you step through the door, deciding that he found you attractive and deciding that this was going to be fun.

It could get lonely being all alone in the house all day.

It was nice to have a new face around.

He decided to let you settle in before making his first phone call. He would learn about you secretly before making that call, that would be best.

He didn’t want to scare you too soon and make you run away.

You took about a week to move in your belongings, clean the house and make it your own.

You found the largest, most open room that let in the most natural light and made that your studio. Spending most of your attention on that task, setting it up just as you wanted it.

Billy had perked up a little when he realised that you were an artist. At least you should be entertaining!

The house was already looking better than it had for a while. He was almost impressed.

He liked watching you paint, even if he couldn’t see what you were painting from this angle. You looked so calm when you painted and that calmed him to some extent.

One night, when you were sleeping, Billy crept down into your studio and got himself a closer look.

Your art was definitely...shocking.

From how nice you had seemed over the last week, Billy hadn’t expected your art to be so dark and morbid.

Don’t people usually paint flowers or fruit or something? Well...this certainly isn’t flowers or fruits.

And Billy didn’t know how to react.

But he did spend the night looking through your work, eventually falling asleep in your studio and having to hurry up to the attic once the sun started to rise before you woke up and found him.

He spent the whole day watching you, just learning more about you.

He decided to put off making the first phone call because now he was even more curious about you.

Eventually that call came though.

The phone rang and you answered it, only to be met by the sound of somebody moving around. You couldn’t really make it out the sounds.

But then you managed to make out a few actual sounds. There was a voice but you couldn’t really make out what he was saying and then...was that a moan?

You just told him he got the wrong number before hanging up.

Over the next few weeks you received some more calls. Just some perv, nothing to worry about too much.

But then you got a call from the same perv, you were used to it by now. You just carried on painting as you listened to his mostly unintelligible ranting.

You froze with his question, the only clear thing you could make out fully. “Why do you paint that stuff?” but he hung up before you could answer.

So...this man could see you?

You were suddenly reminded of the smaller sketches you did that had randomly gone missing. Had this man taken it?

You remembered him muttering the name “Billy” once or twice so you took it that was his name.

So you dedicated a piece to him, leaving it on the easel that night for him to see.

The next morning you headed down stairs to find it missing, meaning that he had accepted your gift.

You were interested in the man who had been watching you.

And Billy was even more interested in you.

It was a large house for one person but you tried to explore every inch of it, finally getting to the attic that you had been avoiding. You just though it would be dusty and neglected but you wondered if you could find anything interesting up there.

It didn’t take much looking around before you came across a pile of blankets and pillows, beside them a phone and the painted you had gifted your stalker.

Then it hit you.

This is where the man on the phone, Billy, had been staying and calling from. He had been in the house the whole time, hiding in the attic during the day.

Just as you were processing this realisation, you heard a door close downstairs.

Guess it’s time to meet the man behind all those creepy phone calls. Maybe another gift would encourage him to take mercy on you?

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