#Brahms x male reader

[defectivevillain]

this wallpaper glistens

pairing: Brahms Heelshire/Reader, minor Malcolm/Reader

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

You're Brahms' new babysitter. What you expect to be a laughably easy job quickly turns into something much more complicated.

word count: 2.3k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical blood/violence/stalking, non-con kiss (on the forehead)

author's notes: the pacing of this fic is a bit rushed, but it's fine.

also, the title is from dollhouse by melanie martinez because it fits too well.

You’re starting to think the Heelshires didn’t offer you nearly enough money for this. As you stand in the stately halls of their home, you have to second-guess why you came here. Sure, you need the money and your job search recently hasn’t been successful. But does all of that justify caring for this doll, Brahms—one the Heelshires adamantly treat as a real boy? You don’t think so.

Regardless, you’re here now—and you’d feel guilty for leaving the Heelshires’ home unoccupied in your departure. So, like it or not, you’re stuck here for a few weeks: until the elderly couple returns from their vacation. That excuse had been a bit confusing—when you asked them about their plans, they were strangely tight-lipped. But you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth: as you agreed to get paid thousands of dollars for doing virtually nothing. 

At least, that’s what you thought. Then Mrs. Heelshire had given you a list of absurd rules… and you started to question things. They started off with innocent tasks, like reading Brahms a bedtime story every night and dressing him each morning. But they quickly grew strange and inexplicably strict. You’re not allowed to leave him alone or cover his face; you have to kiss him goodnight each night; and you’re forbidden from entering the attic. The Heelshires leave soon after they list these rules, leaving you with no rational explanation for this strangely humane treatment of an inanimate object. 

Now, you’re left alone in the house with nothing but a creepy doll for company. You have to admit it—the thing is unsettling. His eyes are sculpted wide open; his hair is weirdly realistic; and his clothes are reminiscent of a schoolboy’s. You immediately decide the Heelshires’ rules don’t mean a damn thing: the doll isn’t real. And you’re not going to do things you’re borderline uncomfortable with—kissing him goodnight, for example—just for their sanctity. Besides, they made no indication that they’d be monitoring your behavior—instead simply trusting you to comply. 

The thought brings a sarcastic huff to your lips. You roll your eyes and pick up the doll by the arm carelessly, walking into the nearest drawing room and placing him in the armchair. Taken with a strange sense of spite, you pat the doll on the head sarcastically before promptly exiting the room and closing the door behind you. 

Now, you’re just left with one question: how are you supposed to spend your time here? You settle for exploring the house and looking for entertainment. The library looks particularly promising, and you spend quite a bit of time simply looking around in there. 

When you emerge from the library, the clock strikes 6 p.m. and you realize you’re growing hungry. Frowning, you head out to the kitchen—only to find the door to the drawing room cracked open. That’s strange. You know you left the door shut, promising yourself to leave the doll in there and never return. Frowning, you glance into the room—only to find things exactly as you left them. Dismissing the strange occurrence, you head back to the kitchen and begin to make yourself dinner. At least, that’s your plan… until you notice the refrigerator door is slightly ajar. You shake your head in disbelief, shutting it and promptly scolding yourself for attributing any significance to the sight. 

Your first night passes without much fanfare. You wake up the next morning to find the door to the drawing room shut, which is a welcome and relieving sight. You must’ve just been paranoid earlier. Everything in the house looks exactly the same. (Although, why should you have expected otherwise?)

You split your time between reading, watching television, and making meals for yourself. It’s all horribly mundane, and if you weren’t getting paid for it, you think you’d be complaining. But you are getting compensated—as you’re reminded by the arrival of Malcolm one day, a man who seemingly works with the Heelshires. He gives you your first week’s pay and some groceries, before staying for some conversation. You have to admit, it’s rather nice to have some company. And Malcolm seems nice enough. The “no guests” rule does flit about in your mind, but you manage to push it aside. Malcolm leaves with the offer to call him if things ever go awry. 

Left to your own devices once more, you walk about the house in boredom. The drawing room door is exactly as you left it- Wait. You see a shadow pass across the ground in front of the door, as if there’s someone moving inside. Unnerved, you try to move away—only to hear the unexplained sound of music growing louder. There’s no one else in the house… and you haven’t played music since you arrived. Confused and a bit concerned, you remain standing in front of the door for a bit. Then, out of nowhere, the door slowly creaks open. 

The first thing you notice is that Brahms isn’t in the armchair anymore. Instead, he’s positioned with his back facing you—as he faces the open window. Swallowing past your growing unease, you decide to retrieve a blanket from your room and throw it over him. Then you firmly close the door and promise yourself not to go back. 

But it doesn’t seem to matter what you do: the doll keeps moving, as if it has a life of its own. When you walk past the drawing room after a mid-afternoon snack, you’re shocked to find the door open once more. And even worse, Brahms is standing in the doorway with the blanket fisted in his hand. You flinch in surprise as you’re greeted with the sight, your heart racing quickly. Brahms is still and unmoving. You crouch down and look into his eyes, which dispels any of your doubts. It���s just a doll. So why is this happening…? 

Is this some sort of karma for not enforcing or following the rules? Maybe the Heelshires are crueler than you thought, and they’re playing some sort of joke on you. You’d think they would have better things to do, but what do you know? Shaking your head in disbelief, you come to the unfortunate conclusion that you need to start treating Brahms as if he’s a living child you’re babysitting. Then, maybe, this weird behavior will go away—and whoever’s watching will stop messing with you.  

In the next week, you become the doll’s unofficial caretaker—doing everything from feeding and dressing him to reading him a bedtime story and kissing him goodnight. You’re not particularly happy about that last part, but you don’t want to take your chances and trigger any more pranks or jokes. After all, that’s really the only rational explanation for the doll’s movements. Besides, that conclusion puts your mind at ease. You don’t want to think about any of the other possibilities, because they’re both disturbing and increasingly fantastical. 

For a while, things are normal. Malcolm begins to stop by more frequently and the two of you get to know each other. He’s a pretty nice guy—and just about the only human company you’ve had throughout your time in the home. You’ve noticed that Brahms—or, moreover, whoever’s monitoring your behavior—always seems to act a bit restless when Malcolm is around. It must be due to the rule against guests; but, honestly, you’re not sure if Malcolm can be considered a guest, since he works for the family. 

When Malcolm reaches out to kiss you one night, you don’t stop him. Maybe it’s because you’re lonely in this house; maybe it’s because you’re bored. Or, hell, maybe it’s just because you’re starting to like him. Safe to say, you certainly don’t object to this new development—and soon, he’s backing you onto the bed of one of the guest rooms. 

Before things can escalate much further, however, the lights in the room flicker. You freeze; when they return moments later, the doll is lying on the bed next to you. You immediately flinch and Malcolm does too, the two of you quickly getting off the bed as any romantic tension in the air promptly dissipates. Both of you are weirded out by Brahms’ sudden appearance—a feeling which is only further amplified when you enter the main hall to find a message written on the floor. 

“NO GUESTS” is written in a troubling crimson hue. You only need to take one more step forward to recognize the coppery scent of blood, combined with the scattered corpses of rats from the traps laid around the house. Nausea stews in your gut; fortunately, Malcolm seems to have enough self-preservation to realize he shouldn’t be here, as he takes one look at the display and promptly flees the scene. You don’t blame him—and, honestly, you wish you could do the same. But the moment you take a small step towards the entryway, you recognize the uncanny sensation of breath hitting your neck. You whip around, only to find yourself staring into brown eyes behind a doll mask. 

A man stands in front of you, with dark messy hair and sweat-sheened skin. Your ears are ringing as you recognize the porcelain quality of the mask secured over his face—it’s horribly similar to the doll’s sculpted face. The man stares at you for several moments, tilting his head to the side and regarding you with interest. Your heart is thundering in your chest as you make the connection that has been eluding you this entire time: this man is Brahms. Brahms Heelshire isn’t dead—he’s been alive this entire time, residing within the walls of this house. And he’s standing in front of you. 

You immediately try to back away, but he swiftly reaches out and clamps a hand on your wrist. Then Brahms pulls you towards him, his hand rising to hold your jaw as he stares at you with an uncomfortably scrutinizing gaze. For several seconds, you’re frozen beneath his grip: entirely pliable as he studies you. 

What happens in the ensuing moments is a blur, as you’re easily manhandled into following behind him as he sneaks through the walls of the house until you’re somehow standing in the attic. The Heelshires’ rule immediately comes to mind: Never go in the attic. They knew about Brahms the whole time, didn’t they? Are they even coming back to the house? How long will you be stuck here? 

Immune to your frustrated thoughts, Brahms leads you towards his bed and silently gets under the covers. Then, he stares up at you expectantly. You look down at him in disbelief. Honestly, you’re still reeling from the thought that Brahms is actually alive—and has been hiding in the walls this entire time. You can barely comprehend that, let alone whatever the hell he’s doing right now. 

Clearly growing annoyed, Brahms yanks you forward and onto the bed—to the point where you have to shoot a hand out to catch yourself from falling into him. You’re now positioned over Brahms awkwardly, his hand on your collar tugging you closer to him. He’s staring at you expectantly, before he reaches out with his free hand and points to his forehead. You feel a shiver roll down your spine as you realize what he wants: a goodnight kiss. 

You’re not sure how long you hover there, fighting off your fear and apprehension, before Brahms grows impatient and harshly tugs you towards him. You quickly kiss him on the forehead and lean back, pretending not to notice how tightly he’s still holding you. 

In hindsight, it was foolish of you to think you could leave after tucking him in. Because somehow, even after you’ve complied with the rules, you haven’t done enough. You try to enforce some distance between the two of you, but Brahms growls and his grip on your collar tightens until he’s pulling you down again. A bolt of pure fear runs down your spine as you’re deftly maneuvered into a reclined position on the bed, lying next to Brahms.

Your heart is roaring in your ears and you’re breathing hard. If Brahms senses your anxiety, he doesn’t seem to care—as he instead breaches the distance between you and promptly fits himself against your side. His arm stretches out to wrap around your waist and you choke on a shaky breath. You can’t so much as adjust your posture even a minute amount, because he’s pushing you back into the mattress with an absurd amount of strength.

You’re not sure how long you lie there, staring up at the ceiling, before you chance a glance at Brahms. His eyes are closed and his breaths are calmer—he must be asleep now. You still have no hope of escaping: even a small shift in your positioning is enough for him to press into you further. 

It’s growing late, but you know you won’t be able to sleep at all. You’re only growing more restless as time passes, waiting for the inevitable moment when Brahms grows bored with you and kills you. After all, that was the entire reason behind his confinement, wasn’t it? He killed a friend at a young age; and his parents trapped him here in order to keep him from going to jail. 

The reminder is enough to send a renewed fear crawling up your chest. You don’t realize you’re crying until there’s a calloused hand wiping tears from your cheeks. Somehow, in your distress, you must’ve woken Brahms. He turns to the side and looks down at you for a long moment, before leaving inexplicably closer. Quick as lightning, he’s reaching down to press a goodnight kiss to your forehead—his porcelain mask almost cold against your skin. Then Brahms stares at you for several minutes. You’ve never felt such a stiff and oppressive silence before. 

Finally, after what feels like far too long, Brahms settles back in and closes his eyes once more—leaving you to your conflicting emotions and the uncompromising darkness. You’re not sure of much right now, save for one thing: it’s going to be a long night. 

thanks for reading! <3

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[zapreportsblog]

Can you do Brahms x Dom male reader

❝the enigmatic of brahms heelshire ❞

✭ pairing : brahms heelshire x male reader

✭ fandom : slashers

✭ summary : behind closed doors brahms isn’t exactly what the town would think of him as

✭ slashers masterlist

Brahms Heelshire had always been a mysterious figure in the small town of Blackwood. With his stoic demeanor and enigmatic presence, he was the talk of the neighborhood. But little did they know, behind closed doors, Brahms shared his life with a dominant partner named (M/N), a man who held a captivating power over him.

(M/N) was a commanding presence, exuding strength and confidence in every step. He had a way of making Brahms feel both cherished and controlled, a delicate balance that sent shivers down his spine.

Their relationship was built on trust and mutual understanding, a dance of dominance and submission that both partners embraced wholeheartedly. Brahms reveled in the feeling of (M/N)'s firm hand guiding him, the way his touch could ignite a fire within him.

In the privacy of their home, (M/N) would often take on the role of the master, guiding Brahms through a world of pleasure and pain. The power dynamics between them were intense, yet tender, with each act of dominance serving as an expression of their deep connection.

Brahms found solace in the control that (M/N) exerted over him. There was comfort in surrendering himself completely, in allowing his partner to take the lead. It was a delicate dance, a delicate balance that brought them both immense satisfaction.

But their relationship extended beyond the confines of the bedroom. (M/N) was a pillar of support for Brahms, encouraging him to embrace his true self and pursue his passions. He saw the potential within Brahms, pushing him to explore his artistic talents and nurturing his creative spirit.

Together, they created a world that was uniquely their own—a world where Brahms could be both submissive and strong, vulnerable and empowered. (M/N) understood the depths of Brahms' desires, his need to be controlled and cherished, and he provided that with unwavering dedication.

As the outside world speculated about the enigmatic Brahms Heelshire, they remained blissfully unaware of the intricate tapestry of their relationship. To the outside world, Brahms was a mysterious figure, but to (M/N), he was so much more—a cherished submissive partner who embraced his desires with open arms.

Their love was unconventional, but it was built on a foundation of trust, respect, and unwavering devotion. Together, they navigated the complexities of dominance and submission, finding solace and fulfillment in each other's arms.

And as the world continued to wonder about Brahms Heelshire, they remained blissfully ignorant, finding solace and strength in the intimate connection they shared.

Brahms and (M/N) had always maintained a discreet presence in the town of Blackwood, keeping their intimate relationship hidden from prying eyes. But as their connection deepened, they felt an increasing desire to reveal their true selves, to embrace their desires openly.

One evening, as they sat together in the dimly lit living room, Brahms mustered the courage to voice his longing. "I want to show the world who we truly are, (M/N)," he confessed, his voice filled with determination.

(M/N) regarded him with a mix of surprise and admiration, his eyes shining with understanding. "Are you sure, Brahms?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "Once we reveal ourselves, there's no going back. The world may not accept us."

Brahms nodded, his eyes filled with unwavering certainty. "I know it won't be easy," he replied. "But I can't hide who I am any longer. I want to live authentically, and I want to do it with you."

A smile tugged at the corners of (M/N)'s lips as he reached out to caress Brahms' cheek. "Then let's do it, my love," he whispered. "Let's show the world the depth of our connection, the beauty of our desires."

With their decision made, Brahms and (M/N) embarked on a journey of self-acceptance and liberation. They knew that revealing their relationship would be met with mixed reactions, but they were determined to live their truth.

They started by opening up to their closest friends, sharing the intimate details of their dynamic and the profound love they had for each other. To their surprise, their friends responded with acceptance and support, embracing their relationship without judgment.

Encouraged by this positive reception, Brahms and (M/N) decided to take a bolder step. They attended local LGBTQ+ events together, proudly holding hands and displaying their affection for all to see. They became advocates for acceptance and understanding, sharing their story and encouraging others to embrace their true selves.

The town of Blackwood slowly began to shift its perspective, as Brahms and (M/N) became symbols of love and authenticity. People started to see beyond the societal norms and embrace the beauty of their connection.

But not everyone was accepting of their relationship. There were those who held onto their prejudice and ignorance, casting judgment and spewing hateful words. Brahms and (M/N) faced moments of heartache and frustration, but their love for each other remained unshaken.

They found strength in their bond, supporting each other through the difficult times and rising above the negativity. Their love became a beacon of hope, inspiring others to challenge their own biases and embrace the diversity of human connection.

As the years passed, Brahms and (M/N) continued to live their lives authentically, unapologetically showcasing their love for each other. They became an inseparable pair, setting an example of love, acceptance, and resilience.

Their story resonated far beyond the boundaries of Blackwood, reaching people from different walks of life who found solace in their journey. They became a symbol of love's triumph over adversity, reminding the world that true happiness lies in embracing our authentic selves, no matter the obstacles.

Through their courage and unwavering commitment to each other, Brahms and (M/N) left an indelible mark on the town of Blackwood and the hearts of those who encountered their story. And in the process, they taught the world the power of love and acceptance, forever changing the narrative of what it means to live authentically.

[thegayspencerreidstan]

Hi, I have a request

Brahms, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair with male reader who's like really tall and strong ( like their victim ran away and male reader killed them with his bare hands or something like that) can be fluff or a little suggestive (it's your choice)

UM ABSOLUTELY,,,😍

Slasher HEADCANNONS

Brahms Heelshire

Bro probably crumbles to his knees

He finds you even hotter than before-

Since he's a horny guy...well, prepare for this mf to be LATCHING onto you, of course, if you have no interest in sex and explain to him, he won't be upset

He sees you like,,, crush someone's head or whatever and he'd probably just Blurt out "now do that to me but with your thighs-" but he'd also be upset that you killed his victim and he'd probably cry and whine about it later

He's a bit scared of you because he knows that if he makes the wrong move, he's done for

But he loves you and your amazing strength regardless

Mf probably doesn't say shit, he's amazed and shocked of course, but he just stared at you

He's a bit scared ngl, but at the same time he loves it

,,,he's definitely pissed that you killed his victim,,but he's also very grateful

Probably brings you with him when he goes on lil killing sprees

He's always happy to get some help

God I'm a slut for Vincent...

ANYWAYS

He's definitely shocked, but at the same time..he's fallen head over heels even more than what he already has

Probably makes you a wax animal or something as a sign of appreciation

DEFINITELY gets you to help him bring more people to make into wax sculptures

Even though he's usually really busy, after that incident of you...yeah, he probably cuddles you alot while admiring your arms and hands because this mf is FLABBERGASTED at your strength

But of course, he also loves it

Probably tries to tell his brothers about your amazing strength (but of course...Bo doesn't care smh,,) but Lester is amazed and they probably try to test out your strength a lot (with Bo watching from a distance)

[lightdustchild]

Brahms?

Literally just finished watching the boy for the millionth time, and I've successfully gotten the urge to write for him. Enjoy our musty man and some fluff 💙🖤

Brahms x male reader

You had successfully gotten the job as a nanny the amount they were paying was ridiculous but you agreed. Of course you did not expect a doll of all things to be the thing you were taken care of. The parents were shocked as well saying brahms never said a man was okay to watch him but he liked you so maybe he had a change of mind. Before hugging you the lady whispered "I'm sorry" in your ear and left giving you the rules.

You followed the rules you just felt like you had too maybe they had cameras to make sure you were following them. Thats the excuse you had come up with but in reality you had found yourself growing attached to the doll. You always felt eyes on you it bothered you at first but eventually you found an odd comfort in it. Seeing as being alone bothered you feeling as if someone was with you was oddly comforting for you.

People might as well eventually call you insane, why? Simple you started talking to the doll as if it were human and you always had the urge to be held by him but it was a doll not a person.

"Brahms?" You mumbled one day as you looked at the doll sitting across from you. " I don't know why but I have these urges like to be held by you even though I know you're not real" you said before letting out a dry laugh feeling as if you had gone insane. Hands touched your shoulders immediately your first reaction was a jump as you turned around eyes wide. A person was standing in front of you with a doll-like mask on their face and dark curls Falling over it. The clothes were quite dirty as well and the shirt was slightly open revealing a hairy chest. "Brahms?" You said quietly and the man titled his head almost child like before nodding.

"Hello" He said his voice was soft like a mere child as he spoke. He then walked closer and you wondered what to do though brahms had already decided what he was going to do as be wrapped his arms around you. You realized he was holding you,he came out of the walls because you wanted him to hold you. Hesitantly you wrapped your arms around him burying your face in his chest as he held you like you asked. Pulling away you tugged him over to the bed he looked confused but followed as you laid him down "Bed time already?" He said softly his voice laced with disappointment you smiled and crawled into bed with him laying your head on top of him. "Oh" he said in realization at what was going on before he wrapped his arms around you holding you as you fell asleep like that.

If you liked this please let me know you can also send a request for him I will do it 🖤💙

[2braincellslz]

Tw: abusive relationships

[sethistired]

Kissing Practice (Brahms Heelshire X OC)

This is Katharos, Brahm's childhood friend who was initially chased off by Brahm's conservative parents (he is trans and gay) due to his bordering-on obsession towards Brahms. He returns years later with a single goal in mind; staying by Brahm's side and he would do anything to ensure so.

Brahms is confused at the sight of him and his new gender identity but sees how sincere - and terrifying - his love is...returns it tenfold.

They are very deranged but in love so it's all good.

[alina-dixon]

Fandoms I write For: (Part 3)

(I only write for x male readers!)

(smut is allowed!)

House of Wax:

- Vincent Sinclair

- Bo Sinclair

Detroit: Become Human:

- Connor

- RK900 (Nines)

- Gavin Reed

The Boy:

- Brahms

The Hobbit:

- Thorin Oakenshield

- Kili

- Legolas Greenleaf

Fantastic Beasts:

- Albus Dumbledore

- Gellert Grindelwald (Johnny Depp/Mads Mikkelsen)

- Newt Scamander

Hannibal (TV series)

(closed for now!)

- Hannibal Lecter

- Will Graham

The Sandman:

- Morpheus

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Press Here for Rules

Simon Kalivoda ( Fear Street)

Head canons

Fics

Coming soon

Brahms Heelsire ( The Boy)

Brahms Heelshire (Omega)

Fics

Coming soon

[pastelclovds]

for the made-up fic title thingy, here's a fic title i had for an old work of mine but changed: "can't sleep love"

*cracks neck* okay so—

for this title, i can’t explain it, but it gives off obsessive energy.

cw: somnophilia

brahms is having trouble sleeping because no matter how hard he tries: HE CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU. he adores you both on the outside and the inside. he’s so happy that you’ve decided to stay despite finding out about him. every second he spends with you fills him with warmth in his heart (and loins). it doesn’t take long until his thoughts become explicit and his cock hard and straining against his boxers. he first tries to deal with it on his own by fingering his twitching hole how you would, but quickly gives up when he realizes he could never do it like you.

he sneaks inside your room like the sneaky pervert he is. he stands there above you for a few minutes just admiring your face before the throbbing of his dick reminds him of what he’s there for. he slides the sheets off your body and carefully pulls down your sleeping pants just enough to where your soft cock can pop out. he wastes no time to put his mouth into work, cautiously watching over your resting expressions as his tongue slides over your veins and head. your face twists into bliss as you get hard in his mouth. he’s taken your lessons on how to pleasure you to heart. now he can play you like a fiddle. he slides you out of his mouth, stroking the base of your cock as he does it.

brahms let out a whimper as the head of your cock enters him, his hole stretches to fit you in as he continues to slide down until you are balls deep and sitting snuggly against his prostate. he rests his hands beside your neck as he steadily raises his hips until your head kisses the rim of his ass and slams down. he couldn’t contain his moans and whine for ‘more’ even if he was in a death match. you finally snap awake when brahms cried out your name as his cum stained your chest and belly. he slumps against your chest as he pants heavily beside your neck. you didn’t think it was possible to grow more horny than you already have, but your darling losing himself on your dick proved you wrong.

brahms gasped when your palms found themselves on the fat of his ass as you bucked up into his tight hole. you grin as you whispered into his ear, “i’m not satisfied, love.”

[yourlocalcryingcryptid]

WINNER

Brahms Heelshire !

Okay it's time...

Tumblrs Sexyman Slasher Showdown

After days of deliberation and friendship ending arguments between myself and @restlesssucculent I am proud to announce the slashers of the first round!

The full (very messy and lazy) bracket will be posted later today! Best of luck - 🖤❤+🔮💜

[cece693]

Clean and Tidy (Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader)

Since it's October, I want to provide at least a fic for some of my like (not love) slashers. First in line is Brahams from the movie The Boy (2016.) Beware it's short and not my best work.

Summary: The Heelshire's never posted that nanny ad. After all, you were perfect for the job. Not only were you Brahms's nanny, but you were also the caretaker of the house when the Heelshire's were away.

tags: neat/clean freak reader, Malcolm gets killed, never liked him tbh, Brahms is a kitten with claws

The house stood still and silent, a heavy darkness pressing against the tall windows. Outside, the mist clung to the forest like a second skin, thick and immovable, drowning the world in a damp chill. The Heelshires were away again, leaving me to keep the sprawling estate in order. It was a duty I took seriously—order and cleanliness were my sanctuary against the madness that sometimes threatened to swallow this house whole.

And, of course, there was Brahms.

"Come on, Brahms," I said, crouching to examine the muddy footprints he'd left in the kitchen. "You know the rules. No mud in the house."

There was a rustle, a shift in the shadows, and he emerged from behind the pantry door. His face, obscured by his mask, tilted downward like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "I’m sorry," he said, voice muffled and low. "It was raining."

"Well, it’s still no excuse. Upstairs, now," I ordered, pointing toward the staircase. "Shower, and I’ll clean this up."

He hesitated only momentarily before nodding and slipping away. I watched him go, a mixture of fondness and exasperation warming my chest. He could be dangerous, I knew that. But with me, Brahms was different. Gentle. Almost eager to please.

Everything had been routine, until that night.

Malcolm had come by with the groceries. He was the delivery boy from town, bright-eyed and persistent, always lingering longer than necessary. I’d noticed the way his gaze lingered on me, the way his smiles grew bolder over time, but I’d never encouraged him. Yet, that night, as I was wiping down the kitchen counters, he cornered me, his hand slipping over mine.

"You know," he said, voice low, "you don’t have to stay cooped up here all the time. I could take you out—just the two of us. No one would have to know."

I pulled my hand away, disgust churning in my stomach. "I’m fine where I am, Malcolm. You should go." He didn’t listen. He moved closer, his hand reaching for my waist. I froze, my mind whirling, caught between indignation and the sudden sense of danger that flared hot in my chest. Then I heard it—a soft rustling, a creak from behind the pantry.

"Malcolm, I’m serious." I warned, my voice sharp. "Leave."

But before he could say another word, Brahms was there, stepping out from the darkness. He moved with a speed and ferocity I had never seen before, slamming Malcolm against the wall. There was a flash of panic in Malcolm’s eyes, a gasp—cut off too soon. It was over in seconds. Brahms was breathing hard, his body trembling, and Malcolm lay crumpled on the floor, his eyes wide and unseeing. Blood stained Brahms' crisp white shirt, bright and stark against the fabric. I should have felt something—fear, horror, anything—but all I felt was a strange calm.

"Brahms." I whispered. He turned to me, the mask hiding his face but not the hunch in his posture. He was waiting for a reprimand, for anger, for anything that would push him back into the shadows. Instead, I stepped forward, my eyes narrowing as I took in the crimson staining his shirt. "Look at you," I said, my voice almost a sigh, "you've ruined your shirt. How many times have I told you to be careful?"

His head tilted, confusion and a flicker of relief warring in his eyes. "I’m sorry." he whispered. I didn’t answer. I turned away, stepping around the body without a second glance, moving to the kitchen sink to wet a rag. Behind me, Brahms watched, still as a statue, his gaze never leaving me as I crossed the floor to him. I began wiping the blood from his hands, my touch brisk and efficient.

"I'll have to dispose of that shirt and the body, which is on the verge of staining the carpet—"

"I’ll clean it." Brahms offered quickly, his voice hoarse. He was eager to please again, desperate for approval.

"Good." I met his eyes, my expression stern but gentle. "But next time, Brahms, be more careful. Bloodstains are a nightmare to get out."

He nodded, something like a smile hidden beneath the mask. There was a glimmer of gratitude, of understanding that I wouldn’t send him away, that I wouldn’t abandon him like the rest. I didn’t say another word as I watched him slip off to dispose of the evidence, like a cat slinking off with its prize. The house was mine to care for, and that meant caring for Brahms—the strange, broken boy who, for reasons I couldn’t quite name, trusted me to stay.

[sleep-0-deprived]

⋆˚࿔Brahms Heelshire thoughts~!𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Taglist: @asher-is-hotxp @unstab1eperson2 @kimisbunny @yyuinaa @silvern1006

A/N: jus some thoughts N’ personal feels bout one of ma fav boys, N’ written specifically for @creepy141dollie <33

𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚

Personally I like thinkin Brahms S’ a big Ol baby, he’s touch starved at’ death N’ when you’re his new baby sitter all he can wonder as’ why’re you a boy? Where’s his nanny at…he’s silent as always creeping through in the walls just watchin the way you do things- he can’t deny how good ya are at all tha domestic stuff, house hubby material S’ what he first thought when he seen ya. You’re a sassy man he can tell that much bout you from the way you scold him and push out your bottom lip when lookin up at him, he doesn’t know how you made it past his old fashioned parents- maybe ya charms work on everyone.

Brahms S’ a total creep, he gives no privacy he stalks ya like a dog, he lurks even when ya ask him not to, he is obsessed all tha time- his infatuation holds no bounds N’ he isn’t afraid T’ watch your most intimate moments in tha shower or when you touch ya’self, Brahms hates when you lecture him, talkin bout how you wont let his cock near you sayin stuff like, “I only reward good boys” even tho knowin you, you’d start T’ feel bad N’ give into him by the end of the night— how could ya not with the way he begs you, his voice cracks N’ you can practically feel his tears behind that porcelain mask.

Bein his babysitter means giving up your life- he’s crazy N’ he’s toxic for you but you can’t bring yourself to leave him…you jus feel bad- he holds you an’ praises you like a god when he wants but he screams N’ throw fits over you when he’s upset— Y’ know you should runaway but you jus can’t- you’re in too far now anyway S’ why even bother to try N’ leave him? Ever since you took that job everything feels cold- the air, Your body N’ it’s all porcelain like, just like his mask. You used T’ love shopping but the most you do is go out into town T’ pick up groceries then ya go back to Brahms…that house has made you isolated from th’ world N’ Brahms doesn’t care at all, he jus wants you to himself.

Brahms is a manipulator, he uses your soft spots to get his ways, he promises all ya wanna hear jus to get you T’ stay. Brahms acts all innocent like he isn’t tha reason for your change in personality N’ he isn’t the reason you’re starting T’ slowly lose that sass, he’s worn ya down into a tired parent like person. Brahms uses his tears T’ wrap you around his finger knowin you can’t resist the way he clings to you like a god, Brahms worships the ground you walk on when you give him what he wants which is to ultimately have you forever.

Brahms S’ pent up all the time, sneakin off into your room when he needs tha love, not Carin bout anything jus getting your shorts down enough T’ shove his dick in ya while you sleepily hiss into the pillows whining bout how he’s bein rough- Brahms whimpers- he try’s ta be quiet but when your hole sucks him back N’ he loses it like a puppy poutin and moaning away on top of you clutching onto you hard while his hips erratically fuck you in ya sheets

Brahms fav position is cowgirl tho it should probably be cowboy W’ you on top- your hand gripping his shoulders working up N’ down taking his cock with ease while his eyes hold contact W’ yours- his breath is shaky N’ he can’t control how weak he feels but somethin bout his fave being covered starin into your soul the whole time has ya buckin down on his cock wildly “please- please, I need you, only you- just you- please” your body melted when those words left his mouth oh so pathetically- how could this be the same man who broke you down? How could he.. before you know it his semen S’ floodin inside you filling ya all full.

[saminsecret]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a male s/o with a deep voice for the slashers. Like corpse husband's voice, you don't have to make y/n have gerd, I just like the idea of the reader having a voice that could attract everyone. No matter what the gender or sexuality.

Slashers dating a male!s/o with a deep voice

I didn’t really know what to write for some of these guys but I hope you like it nonetheless anon :) I also didn’t know who to write this for so i just chose three randoms , hope that’s okay >.<

Characters include Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, and Brahms Heelshire

Michael Myers (Halloween 79’)

He won’t admit that your voice intimidates him. He’s used to hearing the high pitched screams of his victims, so coming home to your deep voice throws him off at first, but you’ll never realize it because Michael will hide the fact until death.

He doesn’t like it when you talk. The fact that your voice intimidates him makes him upset, because nothing is supposed to intimidate the bogeyman. For the first few months of your relationship he’s covering your mouth anytime you speak more than a few seconds, which quickly annoys you. If you really put up a fight about it he’ll stop trying to keep you quiet…eventually.

He likes to hear you scream. Expect him to startle you by standing behind you, silently waiting for you to notice him. Your screams sound so different from what he usually hears, so it fascinates him in a way to listen to you yell in fear when he’s suddenly right behind you. But after a while, he’ll get bored with this as you become accustomed to him and his antics, thus less screaming.

He lives with it. After those first few months of annoyance and curiosity surrounding your deep voice, he becomes accustomed to it. So his boyfriend has a deep voice, who cares? Not him, that’s for sure. And if you find him sometimes suddenly behind you while you’re deep in conversation on the phone, it’s definitely not because he starts to like listening to your voice. Don’t be weird, y/n.

Thomas Hewitt (TCM Remake)

He screams the first time he hears you. He didn’t know such a deep voice could come from a guy! It’s one of the reasons he ends up not killing you, so be grateful for this reaction!

Begs you to talk. All the time, about anything at all. He just needs to hear your voice! It’s so soothing and sends a shiver down his spine every time he hears you. Will absolutely nod enthusiastically at whatever story you’re in the middle of telling him, but he’s mostly focused on the deep baritone of your voice.

Hums at you. He can’t doesn’t talk, so other than sign language he communicates through a rough humming to you that he wants you to talk to him. Sometimes he just wants you to hum back at him while he rests his head on your chest to feel the vibrations. It calms him down, especially after dealing with his family and/or a particularly tricky victim.

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)

Freaks him out. It took him a long time to warm up to you because of your voice, but eventually he just had to like you because you followed all his rules so well. But he can’t deny that shiver that goes down his spine every time you read him a book or whisper to him a quick goodnight. He doesn’t know if he likes your voice or is afraid of it.

Makes you read to him constantly. Eventually he has decided that he does in fact like your voice and refuses to go on with the routine until he gets at least one story read to him at bedtime. He’ll try to be cheeky and pick out an extra long story for you to read, but you don’t usually mind as you like to spend those extra moments with him!

Do not yell at him. He already hates yelling, but if you were to yell at him? He’d refuse to leave the walls for hours. You’d have to coax him out with promises of treats and kisses and even then he’d still be jumpy until the next day. He doesn’t mean to be naughty, y/n, he promises to be good!

Will try to mimic your voice. It won’t be perfect, obviously, but he wants to try his hand at that deep tone! He’ll force you to sit and say different phrases at him so he can try to imitate it, but he can’t get his voice as deep as yours without hurting his throat. He’ll still try though!

[kunazz]

slashers who are ready to be at your service whenever you ask them. Who cares if they’re outside? Fuck them in the bathroom or bend them over the hood of your car once you guys are in a somewhat secluded area. Make the sex rough and quick, like you just wanna get it over with, make them feel as though they’re nothing to you, just a perfect hole for a perfect guy. They absolutely love that shit.

Bite their necks and tell them how dirty they are, how others would react if they saw the two of you at that moment, your cock buried deep inside their ass, filling them up until it was almost unbearable.

Humiliate them.

[whisper-in-the-night]

The author can tell the story with Asa /the Sinclair brothers/Or Brahms. You can choose who you want! How is your recent story with Thomas (it's great) can the above listed slashers be omegas and Y/N alpha?

I've been on Tumblr recently, and there are some things I don't understand what and how. By your recent post, I thought you were taking applications.📿✒️

Omega!Slasher x alpha!male!reader

Warnings: alpha!slashers, omega!reader, omegaverse

Note: thanks for your request honey! Hope you'll like it. Have a good day ;) ♡⁠

•••

Asa Emory

Asa didn't like people, no. The insects were much better. Insects were useful, but what about people? They just buzz, drink and lead a dirty lifestyle. He didn't have a special appearance, on the contrary, he was quite a big man for an omega who was really able to interest someone and find a mate. But he didn't worry too much about it either. People were loud, repulsive.

But you seemed different. There was something so calm and attractive about you. He felt like a fly caught in your sticky web, even though he didn't really mind it. At first, it was strange to have someone around. Emory was a loner. But over time, he realized that you can really be relied upon and trusted. The man might not have noticed you among other small human ants. But that day you were standing in your own garden. You had a private house with a small garden full of flowers. It seemed like you were a hardworking person who loved nature. You were trimming one of your bushes when a pale blue butterfly landed on your shoulder. This startled Asa. After all, animals and insects always feel good people, they are attracted to them. So you weren't like other people.

And now he was here.

It was getting dark. The lights were still on in your house. You were sitting in the living room by the fireplace in your country house and reading one of your favorite books. It was nice to live away from people, the hustle and bustle of the city. The wood crackled steadily in the fire. The room was warm and cozy, your feet were warmed by a brown blanket you bought once at a sale in another city. Your fingers slowly turned over the pages, while your tired gaze slowly slid over the black lines. It's too early to sleep, not yet.

You've been alone for the last two weeks, but you knew that the day of the calendar was coming when he was coming back. You don't know why he comes back from time to time, maybe he was really comfortable with you. Although he was clearly not that kind of person. He would rather call it.. the necessity. You can't fool your own physiology with even a ton of suppressants.

Finally, there was the click of the front door, which you never closed, there was just no reason. There were slow, unhurried footsteps in the hallway, as if you were waiting. And for sure, today you left the light on in the hallway, perhaps this little detail alerted him, the man who loved to move around in the dark like some kind of virtuoso moth. Finally, the heavy boots touched the soft carpet material, and the steps became softer. Perhaps you should still teach him to take off his shoes at the entrance.

A moment later, your blanket was thrown off, and now was laying at your feet. A feeling of heaviness covered your hips. You didn't have to look down to know that the man had his head on your lap. He always did that. He came when he wanted to. Did what he wanted to do. He knew he could get away with it, but he didn't know why. He probably would never have been able to really kill you, even though he still acted like he had a knife at the ready. But none of his blades were worthy of slicing through your tender flesh.

You slammed the book shut with a light clap, having previously put your favorite bookmark with painted butterflies, and put it on the edge of the sofa. Your fingers found their way to Asa's head, caressing his cheeks with the pads of your fingers through the material of his mask. It was a strange material that you had never touched before. Something soft and rough at the same time. It looked a bit like the robbers' masks, but it seemed like he had made it himself.

The man made a soft purring sound as he leaned into your touch.

It was strange to have such a big man on my lap. He was really big, especially considering his secondary gender, which he would never tell anyone about, except perhaps you. Even his former work colleagues were unaware of his omega status. It just wasn't necessary. But it seemed different with you. Even after several vaccinations, you could still clearly smell his beeswax and verbena. Even now, under the mixture of dirt, gunpowder and blood, you could still feel that delicate fragrance, causing a smile on your lips.

Asa sighed, finally closing his eyes and clasping his hands on his chest. He probably hasn't slept in days, which is not surprising. He often stayed up late, thinking through all his riddles and traps. Although it is possible that all this week he was just reading a book about insects and plants that you gave him for his birthday.

Lately, the man has been almost.. clingy. Every time he got closer to his heat, Asa became unusually clingy and looking for touch. Your touch. Up to this point, his every heat was accompanied by pain and anxiety. The suppressants didn't always help, and the people around were too intrusive. Especially alphas. He remembers how, back in his teenage years, some alpha harassed Asa. The guy broke his nose. In principle, he often reacted aggressively to the attention of others. The quiet and secretive man, capable of ripping open the belly of an offender. His temper and uncontrollable aggression often got out of control, which led to sad consequences.

But it was different with you. Your touch felt so.. alive, sincere, gentle. Each time it made him have a sudden urge to take off his mask and feel your hands on his bare skin. But he immediately stopped himself, realizing that he would regret it later. The mask stays on.

You were a good alpha. So much so that something inside him reached out to you, seeking your touch and love. Asa isn't used to love. Isn't used to tenderness. But with you, he felt like he wanted to be pampered, wanted to be taken care of. Although it looks like regular one-night stands to you right now, it's far from the case for Asa. Perhaps one day he will even reveal his face to you. Would you like him? Would you like to start a family with him? Family... He's not sure he could stand the idea of children, no. But with you, everything seemed real. You were his support in life, his firefly in this dark world, even though you didn't know it yet.

But no, that's all later. Let him sleep on your lap for now. Maybe your back will hurt tomorrow because of the uncomfortable sleeping position, but it's worth it, isn't it?

Bo Sinclair

It was a sultry summer day. The sun was high in the sky, and the humid air made being outside even more unbearable.

You were with your boyfriend Bo at his gas station and helped him sort out the parts in the victims' old cars. There was no air conditioning in the room, so you, already soaked with sweat and grueling work, were without a T-shirt, in only loose trousers. You often begged Bo to go to a store in another city to buy you more suitable summer clothes, but each time you two found yourself overwhelmed with work.

When you were taking out another box of garbage, you noticed a car approaching. Regular tourists, even in this heat? Fate is obviously against you. After putting the box on the ground, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaned against the wall of the gas station, and watched the girls getting out of the car. They were two short girls and a guy with them who stayed in the car.

"Hey, handsome. Could you take a look at our car? There was something pounding in it all the way," one of the girls said with a slight smile, obviously flirting with you.

You smiled back, wanting to enter a new game and show all your skills and charisma in the best light. "Sure, babe. Give me a few minutes." You walked up to their car, lifted the hood, and began to pretend that you were really looking for a breakdown. Although in fact, you just needed to stall for a little while until Bo noticed what was happening through the window. The girl came a little closer, as if carefully watching your examination, while her slender fingers slowly slid up your strong arm. You grinned as you watched her. Your gaze darted to the guy in the passenger seat. He could be a problem. You smiled benevolently and nodded towards the gas station, "Buddy, why don't you call my friend? He's insane. I could use someone else's help."

The guy rolls his eyes, but gets out of the car and soon disappears inside the gas station. You know perfectly well that Bo will deal with him skillfully.

The girl's actions stop for a moment and she looks at you from under her eyelashes, seductively biting her lower lip. "Can you tell me where the toilet is here?"You chuckle and wink at her, leaving an ambiguous hint, "The second door on the left." The girl nods contentedly and enters the building, playfully wagging her hips.

You quietly approach the remaining girl while she looks after her departing friend, and grab a hunting knife from your pants pocket, cutting the fragile girl's throat with a sharp movement. When the lifeless body ends up on the floor with a thud , you fold the knife and return to the gas station. The girl was just coming out of the bathroom. You grab her wrist, trying to block her view of the window with your wide body, and squeeze her hips, pulling her closer to you.

"Come on, you didn't think of leaving so easily, did you?" You purred with a grin, burying your nose in the girl's neck. The cloying scent of cheap perfume and disgusting, almost artificial pheromones immediately hit your nose. "I bet that lad is really boring, right, baby?" You spoke into her neck, trying to play the interest. You were already reaching for the knife in your pants pocket when the girl let out a sharp scream, clutching at her throat. You took a step back, raising your eyebrows questioningly, and saw that your lover's screwdriver was pierced through the woman's neck.

Bo grabs the girl's hand and throws her to the floor. The poor girl clutches at her throat, choking on her own blood. The smirk on your face becomes more noticeable when you notice Bo's dark eyes burning with jealousy. The man steps over the girl's legs and comes closer to you, grabbing you by the neck and pressing you against the wall. You giggle, covering his hand with yours.

"What, baby? You don't like it when I use your methods, do you?" You purred, watching Bo's face contort in anger.

"Shut up."

His strong arms are gripping your shoulders, and his nose is burrowing into your neck. He showers your skin with careless kisses, circling around your scent glands. He mumbles something softly, and you feel his already bright pheromones amplify. A million times better than that girl's smell. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling Bo closer, to which he mumbled contentedly. You always liked how jealous and possessive he became in those moments when he realized that he really loved you and that, damn it, he wasn't ready to share you with anyone else. You were his alpha, and he was your omega, although he would never say it out loud. He often denied this desire, refusing to really consolidate this connection. After all, people would rather settle on a free omega to claim than a marked one. Alphas don't like to take other's stuff. But seeing other omegas circling around you, enjoying your pheromones, made him mad. Anger was bubbling deep in his stomach, and his heart was clenching.

"What is it? Jealous?"

Bo lets out a slight growl and tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck to you. His fingers are gripping your shoulders tightly.

"Mark me," he mutters, looking down at the floor.

"Baby, you're not in heat right now.."

"Mark me. Now. Please.." his voice almost trembles, and you tighten your grip on his waist, "Mark me. Show me that you need me... that you want me, not them."

You pulled him closer, touching his neck with your lips and showering small kisses on his skin. A soft sigh escapes from Beau, he closes his eyes. Finally, you sink your fangs into his sensitive spot, the man's body shudders with pleasure. Even if he is not in heat now and the mark will be short-lived, it gives him a strange feeling of calm. He belongs to you. He's yours. And you're his. Nobody else's.

"..thank you."

Brahms Heelshire

You were walking slowly through the mansion, heading towards Brahms. The last item on the list remains: the night kiss. Lately, Brahms has looked kind of nervous and detached, although not so long ago he threw a tantrum after Malcolm delivered groceries once again and stayed a little longer than usual, chatting with you just about nothing. After that, Brahms made a real mess. He even refused dinner, which was unlike him. Although this man was basically quite strange because of his upbringing, you couldn't blame him.

You knocked gently on the wooden door, clutching a mug of warm mint tea. It was supposed to help your boy sleep. There was no response. But you heard the distinct creak of the bed and a slight whine.

Frowning, you pulled the door handle and went into the room. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. Brahms was sitting on his large bed surrounded by clothes. Your clothes. His hands were convulsively clutching your clothes, shifting shirts from place to place the way he wanted. The man took one of the shirts and held it up to his face, taking a deep breath. His mask was pushed up just enough to show his nose and lips. Bitten lips with blood in some places. He seemed to be trying very hard to hide the sounds he was making. Brahms let out a soft whine, clutching one of your favorite shirts to your chest, which you wore this morning because it was cool in the garden.

It seems your boy was pushing you away without realizing that he needed your presence.

You let out a short laugh and entered the room. Putting the mug of tea on the dresser, you walked over to the bed. Brahms immediately tensed up when he heard someone else's footsteps. Looking up, the man caught your gaze and let out a slight whine. Right now, he looked like a lost needy puppy. You could swear that if he were a dog, his ears would be desperately pressed to his head right now, and his tail would be tapping on this mountain of clothes around him. Brahms crawled to the edge of the bed on his knees and grabbed the edge of your T-shirt with his fingers. His grip was strong, yearning, and his eyes were full of unspoken emotions. He didn't know what was going on with him, he didn't know why he felt that way and why he was doing these things, so he hoped that you would help him.

Your hand gently touched his hair, your fingers gently played with the curly strands. The man bent down to your touch, making a soft sob, and closed his eyes. Your hands were always so gentle and caring, you weren't like his past babysitters, you were different. You were good and kind, you even treated his doll well, like a real person. And now you've treated him well too.

With your free hand, you touched his chin gently, pulling his thumb away from his skillful lips. A few greased drops of blood were on your skin, but Brahms immediately, almost instinctively, wrapped your finger tongue, cleaning it from the lingonberry color liquid. He looked at you with those big brown eyes of a puppy, and you couldn't smile. His lips gently wrapped your finger, wanting to make you feel good. You always did everything he felt good, maybe he should be make you feel too..? You gently pulled him by the hair, laying on the bed. The large body of the man touched your clothes neatly folded into the improvised nest. You lay beside him, sipping Brahms gently to yourself. Even though Brahms was a big man, you were a little bigger than him, more muscular and strong. It always made Brahms feel small and free. He didn't have to hide under the mask, he didn't have to hide in the walls, no. Brahms was just a few minutes away. You took it all, with his problems, his capricious and his appearance. You loved him for himself. He was your little boy.

Brahms wrapped his arms around your waist, snorting his nose in your chest and squeak softly. With every second his body burned harder and harder, and in his head seemed to be a light mist. He was holding his nose harder in your chest, looking for comfort. You gently ran your hand over his hair, releasing the soothing pheromones through your groin glands. Brahms relaxed a little while, enjoying your smell. You always had your effect on him. Maybe he was your true omega. But it wasn't important now.

You pulled the man closer you, gently humming a lullaby , and pressed a kiss to his mask's forehead.

"Sweet dreams, baby."

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can you please do Slashers (Norman Bates, Patrick Bateman, Micheal, Jason, Brahms, Billy and Stu. You get the idea) with a, hear me out, a s/o who is just as if more out of pocket and crazy as they are, but here’s the catch their s/o aka you 🫵, don’t even realize how they are acting. (This was a 3 am woke up in the middle of the night with sweats kind of concept) But, do with that what you will.

💙💜🩵

Slashers x male reader

Headcanons

I don’t really know Norman, since I’ve never watched Psycho, and Patrick. I know Patrick somewhat at least a little cuz I’ve seen clips, so this is all based off wikis, so I hope it’s still good.

Norman Bates

Norman typically seems to have a more subdued and submissive personality, so for you two to be dating, his mom has to be out of the picture somehow. Maybe you guys still run the motel though.

Norman is possessive of you, not wanting to lose you. So you being just as possessive, if not more, in return, would probably tickle him pink even if he doesn’t want to express it. his second personality would enjoy it if you were just as violent too.

It doesn’t seem like Norman registers that hes got some issues himself, so he probably wouldn’t even notice that you had them too, or that you didn’t realize it either. You two are just two guys who are less than stable, but boy are you happy together in your little murder motel.

Patrick Bateman

You two would be like a house on fire, I think. Having someone just like himself if not worse, would only make Patrick more set in stone about his life and decisions. You two would end up clashing heads pretty regularly, since you both have such eccentric personalities, but then it goes back to being a loving relationship again.

You two are unhealthily co-dependent, and you just push each other to be your worst selves. Your worst, well dressed, manicured and intelligent selves. You guys are probably seen as kinda snobby or full of yourselves to everyone else, but you and Patrick have a great time.

You not realizing that you act this way would excite Patrick I think, since that’s the one up he has on you where you are more than him in every other way. It also excites him in other ways, since you are just like this, and this is who you are without all the debating on if this is right or not.

Michael Myers

You guys met at the asylum, that’s the only place I could imagine you two met. How you two got together I’m not sure, but it wouldn’t take long. You are both quiet and terrifying to be around, but it draws you together.

Neither of you talk much, which just results in you guys being able to communicate in silence. When you guys get out, it’s like a date for you two, going on another Halloween killing spree. If walking slowly around, knives in one hand, and holding the others hand in the other, counts as a date. Its romantic to you two, that’s all that matters.

I don’t think Michael himself really thinks about the way hes acting, so he wouldn’t think about it with you either. That’s just how he is, and how you are, and you go together like two misshapen bloody puzzle pieces.

Jason Voorhees

Jason is a serial killer, yes, but he’s also a nice guy if you look past all of that. So, if you are just chill like him most of the time, and partner up with him to get rid of the people who go where they shouldn’t go, then it would be a pretty nice relationship.

If you were even worse than him, then I could see him silently admiring you as you put together traps even, he didn’t think about. You not looking like Jason also means you can leave the forest to go into town and get different equipment, which just ups your game.

Jason doesn’t have much of an opinion on the fact that you don’t realize that you are worse than him, since this is also just the way he is and has been for who knows how many years. He likes that you are like him and that you aren’t scared of him.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is a huge fan that you are as bad as him or worse. Hes a little creep, so he would start salivating knowing you are watching him back, or seeing how you get rid of your ex on your own when they show up at the mansion.

You two are like gasoline on a fire for the other, since you just fuel the worst parts of each other in the best way, in your shared opinion. This means there’s no reason for Brahms to hide in the walls. He still likes doing it though, just so he can watch you, or you can come after him.

Like a good chunk of the others, Brahms doesn’t really register that he’s pretty messed up himself. Living in isolation for so long will do that to ya. So, it doesn’t really mean anything to him that you don’t realize how you’re acting. He just likes that you watch each other’s freak.

Billy Loomis

It excites Billy in multiple ways that you match his crazy. And by multiple ways, I mean it. It gets his blood pumping and gets him flustered to see you match his plans, or even push them further than he could have ever thought of.

You two are both horror movie obsessed bloodthirsty idiots, who both get way too excited about planning and committing the slashing. You just push each other to be worse, and to push the limits more and more. It makes you more likely to be caught, since you guys fuel each other.

To Billy its so hot that this is just how you are and that you don’t even really realize how you are acting, it’s like you are something walking right out of his deepest fantasies. But he’s has to be the voice of reason, and has to make sure you don’t let anything slip in public, just in case.

Stu Macher

Stu doesn’t seem to be the brightest guy out of the ghostface duo, so he’s probably just hyped that you match him, or go even further than him. If you go further than him, then I can imagine Stu also doing even more. Its kind of a cycle, you do something, and he follows.

It’s also what almost gets you guys caught multiple times, since you don’t really think your plans all the way through, since you both are just too excited and into what’s happening. Stu really likes the thrill of it all though, which leads to a lot of make out sessions.

Stu doesn’t really think about it much himself, that what he does is messed up and wrong, so I can’t imagine him thinking about how you act either. You two are kind of two halves of a whole idiot, and if Billy is around that he has to keep you guys on the right track so you don’t out yourselves or do something dumb.