typicalchaos

[typicalchaos]

Jax but in my art style

[typicalchaos]

Reposting cause I rly like this one

I finished it

～（－－）～

＜(“0”)＞(ノ°▽°)ノ✨

[typicalchaos]

[typicalchaos]

This?

Right Here?

This is some goooood shit.

Like

Legitimately my favorite slasher fic, it’s funny but angsty and twisty and I love how Michael is written and the y/n is so well written and I just rly like this fic a lot.

can’t wait till the next chapter is out on ao3.

Bravo skeleton homie 👏👏👏👏

Virginal, chapter 1

Michael accidentally discovers his dick while he's trying to kill you, and then he comes back for more.

Or: you awaken something animalistic and sexual in Michael Myers, and he cannot resist you in any way. You just hope you survive it.

masterlist ❤️🖤 ao3

chapter tags: serial killer, death, violence, blood, gore, weapons, knife, non con, female reader, rutting, forced orgasms

You didn't even know why you were running, not really. You could hear the heavy thud of his booted footsteps echoing almost cruelly in your ear. It was a cosmic joke, that no matter how fast you scrambled, Michael would always catch you, leisurely following behind as if your blood on his knife was a certainty he was merely playing into. 

Still you ran, into the pitch of night, darting between trees and praying to something that you didn't smack face first into one you couldn't see in the hellish gloom. You hear his breathing, amplified by the mask that hides his face from the world, as if it's ghosting over the flesh of your neck and leaving goosebumps there. 

You wail, low and stupid, as fear carries you, your trainers crunching loudly on every twig and leaf on the floor as if screaming 'follow me! find me!' and he does. 

Large thick fingers curl around the back of your neck like a solid brick and you squeak, terrified, as you're held immobile by Michael's gargantuan hand. Your fingers scrabble back, both of your hands barely able to close around his wrist, boiling hot and solid, as you try and tug him from you like you're batting uselessly at a statue. 

"Please - Michael - please don't do this, you don't have to - I don't…" 

You hear his breathing in your ear, the rubber of his mask against your cheek and you freeze, paralysed, as everything goes silent. 

In a rush of air you're swooped forward, pushed, until your forehead is richoteing off of a tree directly in front of you. You wail low in your throat as pain spirals out onto your face and down your neck, blood dribbling down your nose and into your mouth. You have no time to do anything else as you're yanked back, your body bowed against his, you can feel every hard line of his hulking form through his boiler suit, the small of your back only connecting with his thighs and you scream - expecting to be thrust forward again into the tree, expecting this to be the blow that kills you. Everything goes quiet again. Eerily quiet. 

Michael doesn't move you, his fingers still firm on the back of your neck, he keeps you tucked snug against him for minutes as if he was thinking. 

You're too scared to think, until your brain onlines from the pain and fear and you try again to scrabble your nails across his wrist, to wriggle your small body free and break his hold. His free hand comes sharply down, resting heavy and dangerous on your hip, you freeze again. His message is clear. Stop struggling.

His fingers curl dangerously around your hip, pinning you immobile against him, and your heartbeat is erratic in your chest. Why is he taking his time with you? Why doesn't he just end this? What's he going to do? Choke you? Shatter your pelvis with the barest flex of his fingers?

Moments pass, his grip on your hip tightens and he pulls you back into him, you scream, short and shocked, as he - he wriggles you against him, pulls you in tight to his hot heat, his thighs framing yours, large and muscular and intimidating and - and - is this fucker hard?

Your breath comes out in a stuttered exhale as you feel the unmistakable drag of Michael Myers' erect cock over the small of your back, just above the cleft in your ass. He's utterly silent still, except for that breathing, that hasn't changed pitch or volume, but you can somehow tell he's thinking, calculating, only if in the slowness of his movements. His hands on you are not gentle, you can feel bruises blossoming beneath his fingertips, but you're not dead. 

You'd never heard those kind of stories about Michael Myers before, as far as you knew he was pretty much sexless, either killing or comatose. You'd never heard even a single rumour that he got off on killing. It only served to increase your fear, making your death that much worse. He moved again, hips pistoning slowly until you feel his cock jam against the cleft of your ass and a sharp exhale leaves Michael's mask and he stills to a statue. Except his cock, his cock, twitches against your ass and you tremble violently. You're utterly defenceless and vulnerable, trapped in the arms of a brutal subhuman killing machine as he rubs his thick arousal against your defenceless, weak body. 

Something dribbles traitorously in your underwear. 

You feel it then, tears, hot and thick as the blood drying in rivulets down your face and you sob openly. You didn't want Michael Myers to fuck you, or kill you, so why were you clenching so hard? The white hot fear in you was making you crazy. The waiting, it was torture, you couldn't stand it - you were close to begging, but for what? For what? 

The hand on the back of your neck was gone, and your head snapped forward, tendons in your neck springing back to life painfully and you sucked in air through your scream-damaged throat. Then pain was shooting through your spine as something metal and sharp sliced down the skin of your back, nicking the tops of your trousers and the hands on you were gone completely as Michael seized the frayed edges of your slashed waistband, the muted rip of fabric being torn apart in his bare hands loud in the silent woods as he tore your jeans down to your thighs, leaving you exposed from the waist down in nothing but your panties. 

"No, no, no, Michael, please don't do this, you don't have to do this - I'm begging you -" 

He doesn't listen, maybe doesn't even hear you, as you hear the drag of teeth as he pulls his zip down and then there's nothing in the air but your twin breathing, Michael's measured and heavy, yours panicked and trembling. 

The hot weight of his stiff cock presses between your thighs, slippery with blood that had been dribbling down from your ruined back, and a burst of breath comes from his nostrils like a wild bull as he bucks into you, fucking the slick coppery cleft of your thighs, his gargantuan hands coming to rest on your hips, pushing your legs together to give him something tight and motionless to fuck into. 

You honestly don't know how to react, each one of his tight pistoning thrusts is hard enough to shake every bone in your body, and you can feel each ridge, each thick vein of what you can only imagine is an immense cock to match this immense man. You shake violently as he uses you, the sharp snap of his hips the only indication of what he's doing, his entire body is still, his breathing unaffected, the rubber of his mask brushing the back of your neck a constant reminder of how close he is to you, how fucked you were, figuratively and literally. 

You don't have time to wonder why he's doing this, to humiliate you? To get off without having to fuck you? Because his thrusts speed up, the height difference between you enough that he's lifting you off your feet with every upward brutal shift of his hips, and enough that he's jamming his thick cockhead, weeping with precome and slathering you as thick as the blood between you, against your clit with each thrust. 

The pleasure is sudden and all-consuming, the repeated rough treatment of your poor clit nothing you've ever experienced before, it's painful having your sensitive nub rubbed like this, merciless and uncaring, igniting waves of pleasure in you you didn't even know you could achieve. Your core feels violently hot, your thighs squeezing Michael's length of your own volition and he likes that, he must do, because he squeezes your thighs in response, whole body tensing, and it's the first time you've managed to communicate with the murderer in any way. 

You realise, with dizzying, bone-shaking horrific delight that you're going to come, his cock is too hard and unyielding against your clit. Your knees lift all by themselves, your thighs tense and shake as your vision blacks and you all but collapse back against Michael's body as pleasure ignites every one of your nerve endings. He doesn't stop fucking you through it, stringing out your orgasm until you're a jolting, trembling, mewing mess, every muscle twitching as you soak his cock with more than just your blood. Your cheeks are scarlet, your body alive and thrumming with fear and pain and you think your orgasm has hurtled you off into another realm. 

Your hands scrabble back to grab at him, seizing fistfuls of his boiler suit if only to anchor yourself as you babble. 

"Michael, Michael, Michael -" 

He stills completely, jammed right against your weeping cunt as you feel his cock pulsing, and suddenly your clothed and dripping seam is flooded with hot wet seed. He doesn't make a single sound, except for the flexing of his fingers on your bruised and wrecked thighs, he might as well be made of stone. 

You're trembling, you can't do anything else, shrill little animal screams of pure emotion ripping themselves from your throat every now and again before he's stepping back, releasing you completely, and your ruined body hits the woodland floor like a ragdoll. You feel twigs snapping under you and you register somewhere in your brain that it probably hurts. 

You roll onto your back, the biting sting of the cut and the devastation to your mottled and purple thighs, the size and shape of Michael's hands, making you twitch in pain but it's worth it to look up at him. 

He's stood where he first caught you, huge and towering, the emotionless mask not even out of place on his face. The only indication of what just happened was the opened zip on his boiler suit and his cock, good fucking christ his cock, hanging heavy and hard and scarlet with blood and white with come, if it had been inside you it would have torn you apart, of that you're certain. 

You hazily register that you're going to die now, you've served your usefulness, Michael Myers' cooling come between your legs a testament to that. You know you should run, but your feel drugged somehow, fuck drunk, your brain supplies somewhat stupidly. How pathetic was that? How pathetic was it that arousal shot through you even now at the mere sight of this colossal beast standing in front of you? 

He doesn't look at you as he zips himself back up again, not bothering to wipe his cock as he does. He might be looking at you, you'll never know. But those blank eyes seem to be staring ahead as he bends and retrieves his knife, crusted in your blood just like his cock was. 

Lazily, your hands find purchase as you try and push yourself up, animal brain finally kicking in to tell you to move now, or you're going to die. A sharp incline of his head stills you, he's definitely looking at you now. His mask cocks, regarding you almost, and your heart stutters and stops. 

It barely begins beating again as he turns his hulking form around and disappears off into the trees. 

What, your brain tries, Where is he going?

There's nothing around you but trees, you hug the nearest one to you when you finally stand, seeing the outline of your own blood there in the dim moonlight. 

That shakes something in you, and you remember the pain in your forehead, concussed probably right? That's why you'd acted like such a maniac. Your whole body ached with pain and shock. 

But you were alive. 

Why?

link to chapter 2

[typicalchaos]

The Mall in My Dreams

A/N: As of lately I’ve been dreaming of this Mall, where different things happen and different shops are there, and I thought you might find it interesting.

Enjoy

Canvas of Skins

Tattoo parlour where everyone is kind, but in a way that makes you feel so at peace you agree with everything they say, until they begin and suddenly your a canvas, no longer considered human, and get lost in their art until dying from constant inking or starvation.

Win or Lose

Endless Games where once you win an unsaid amount of times, you never win again, but you’ll never know until you’ve won - but you never will know.

Fragility

Antique shop where if you break it you pay. But even looking at the pieces odd gets you ripped to shreds, but not physically, mentally, every insecurity, every intrusive thought or mistakes or self loathing is scrutinised and mocked. To point of… unthinkable.

Fellow Shoppers

Out of the corner of your eye you keep seeing the same figures, usually faceless until you focus for just a moment, and suddenly it those you know, and before you even begin to turn to face them - they’re already gone.

Party

People who look like friends, but they aren’t.. they’re them but not.. like they’re someone trying to be them; but they’re just simply being themselves.

When I entered the shops I’d observe, but that is something that I always do. I take a moment and watch those around me and enjoy each moment. I’d watch members of my party fall victim to these traps. But I tried to help when I could; But sadly some were just too far gone, and I had to let go lest I fall victim aswell. These aren’t the only pieces of this mall, but if you’re reading this and wish to see more I’ll be happy to share my experiences in this odd place concocted by my brain.

I hope you enjoyed.

[typicalchaos]

Problems - Prologue - Hayloft

Brahms Heelshire x Fem!Reader

W/C: 4,087

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Mental Health Issues, Tattoos, Piercings, Female Reader-Insert, Reader-Insert, No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, References to things I like, Panic Attacks, Reader-Insert Has Anxiety,Reader-Insert has problems

Summery - Brahms wanted desperately for someone to accept him. Someone who saw him for everything that he was, for every problem he had. In his wildest fantasies he dreamt of someone who cherished each flaw with tender love and affection, kissing away his tears and just wanting him.

And he wanted it to be you.

——

You’ve got problems, Brahms’ got problems, ensue - ✨romance✨

——

A/N: BACK AGAIN WITH THIS REVISED VERSION °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Hope yall enjoy!!

——

Warning - Contains - Stalking, Voyeurism, Underwear Theft, Clothing Theft, Objectification, Defilement of Toothbrush

Tears welled in your eyes as you fisted your hair carelessly, hunched over in a mock protective ball- Your heart felt as if it threatened to burst from your ribs, you were trying desperately to just breathe.

’You’re a fucking idiot.’

‘Why are you like this?’

’You should just-‘

You silenced your thoughts with a sob, but you were quick to hush all sound. With a sniffle, you began to fiddle with your hair between your fingers, just trying to focus on feeling the soft threads before taking in a deep breath, listening to the sound of your clicking heal, feeling your leg bounce relentlessly.

Holding it for a moment you were brought back faster than prepared when a soft knock echoed into the small bathroom.

“Sorry love, but I’m afraid I can’t hold it much longer.” A withering call echoed from the door, the old woman’s voice was gentle, but one of hurry.

Quickly you stood from the small confines that was the aircraft toilet and smoothed down the simple but cute black dress you wore, pausing for a moment to stare at the wrinkles with a frown.

Dishevelled was to put it lightly, you had completely ruined your hair and creased the mid of the dress quite unflattering like. You sigh before hanging your head in defeat. The short and tediously curled locks you spent nearly thirty minutes just hair spraying now stuck out in awkward angles and began to frizz out.

Pushing up your glasses you sharply turn away from the mirror before quickly opening the door, apologizing profusely to an elderly woman who shooed you off with a flick of her wrist and a smile, calming you with a simple gesture of assurance. Slinking back to your seat you thanked what so be deity that blessed you with an aisle seat. Taking in a breath, you tried to steal your nerves for what’s to come.

You were smart enough to fix yourself before even stepping foot out of the airport.

But in your determination to make yourself presentable you accidentally made the poor chauffeur wait nearly another hour before you were hobbling out the doors tying up your boots.

Apologizing sheepishly, you thanked the elderly man, who only looked at you with kind eyes and cheerfully grabbed your luggage from you, despite your protests. Once buckled in you were then driven swiftly towards your home for the following weeks.

“And every word she-said~ was a little surprise~!

Can’t. Re-member. How she smiled when she said my~name~..”

You bopped sleepily to the beat, yawning as you looked out the window and watched the passing trees. Shifting slightly in your seat you looked up towards the older gentleman, reaching up to your headphones and clicking the button to pause before pulling them off to rest around your neck.

“Excuse me?”

The man didn’t acknowledge you, which you had expected-no fault of his own, you were soft spoken when you were nervous, or not particularly self aware (which was usual..).

Taking a breath you spoke again, making sure to annunciate your words properly, hopefully louder this time.

“Excuse me, sir-?” You grin triumphantly when he tilts his head back, continuing on,

“I was wondering how much longer until we get to the house?” Your heart was pounding and you cringe slightly, hoping that he doesn’t get annoyed by your questioning.

“Sorry Miss, it’ll be about ‘nother forty minutes till we arrive.” You nod in understanding before a yawn erupts from your lips, causing the old gent to chuckle at your expense.

“Go ahead and get some shut eye’. I’ll wake ya’ when we get there.” You smile appreciatively, mumbling a quiet thank you before placing back on your headphones and resuming the music. Lying back comfortably in the seat you make sure to take off your pink framed glasses and place them in your skirt’s pocket. Once settled you relax with your back to the corner where the door and seat meet.

Resting your head against the window with a sigh, you let your jet lag help succumb you to sleep.

You awoke with a shriek, banging your head hard against the glass. You slapped a hand to your mouth and face flushed red, scrambling around to face the also seemingly mortified old man.

He stared at you with an equally shocked expression, but was soon wiped by a grin, his bushy mustache nearly wrapping around his nose. He chortled, then full on belly laughed at you, in turn causing your ears to redden, before beginning to laugh with him at your overreaction.

You smiled contently as he composed himself, smoothing down his stache before opening the door, still chuckling as you shuffled your way out, casting a gaze down and rubbing the throbbing on your noggin’.

You helped him with the bags, not taking no for an answer this time, and finally took in the grand presence that is the Heelshire Mansion. To say it was overwhelming would be an understatement. Immediate doubt crept into your mind, eyes scanning the aging building practically trying to will it to a smaller size.

You sharply looked down, forcing yourself to breathe as you hushed words of encouragement.

“You got this.” Trudging up the porch you still couldn’t help but gawk at the sheer grandeur of the Heelshire’s home, stopping before the door and setting down a duffel bag that held several containers of makeup and hygiene products.

Shakily you grabbed the large handle of the knocker before bringing it down to the door, letting out a thundering sound. You repeated the action twice before pulling away and reaching back down to hold your bag.

Once fully stood the door opened before you, an older woman standing in the gap. She looked tired, eyes sunken with dark bags that hung on the wrinkles below her sockets. Her face furrowed at the sight of the doll-like appearance the girl before her wore.

She opened the door fully, exposing her designer clothes and priceless jewels on full display. She spoke with a slight sneer, saying your name as if it were a question, you nodded, but that only made her lips tighten into a straight line.

She stepped to the side, allowing you and the other man inside. You tried desperately not to gawk at the grandiose space around you, it felt as if the mansion was even bigger on the inside. Your bags were quickly set inside, and you made sure you gave the man your best wishes before he left.

“So you’re Mrs. Heelshire I presume?” You say with a slight smile, trying to come off as bubbly as possible. The old woman barely even tossed you a glance, just wordlessly led you up down the hall and to what you assumed to be an office. As you do a rather large painting caught your eyes, it was of the Heelshires and what looked to be their young son, none of them wore any hint of joy on their faces, and the young boy’s eyes felt cold.

In the room was crouched a similarly fancy dress old man, speaking hushed words to what seemed to be their child.

“I want you on your best behavior. You’re looking very smart, and I like that tie-”

“Daddy.” Mrs. Heelshire said sternly. The father stood quickly to attention, turning only to pause at your ‘odd’ appearance.

You had brightly coloured hair that was styled in a more cartoonish fashion with glittery makeup to match. Your outfit was littered with pastels and you knew they both could plainly see the Hello Kitty and friend’s sleeve tattoo you proudly wore on your right arm.

You were also smart enough to wear a shirt that covered the lacy black and pink tattoo that covered your chest and collar bone.

Pushing back your glasses with a nod you introduced yourself instinctively, in turn he stepped forward before reaching out to shake your hand, which you accepted enthusiastically.

He smiled softly at you, his eyes tired. Pulling away he stepped back to stand next to his wife. Finally, when Mrs. Heelshire stepped to the side, she introduced him.

“And this… is Brahms.”

You gave your brightest smile, hands gripped together behind your back. But instead of being met with what you expected to be a young and possibly shy child- you were face to face with a small porcelain doll.

But soon your expression fell to one of sympathy, heart aching at the realization of what this doll stood for.

Face softening you slowly approached, ‘Brahms’, before kneeling down and taking his cold lifeless hand in your own.

Finally, Mrs. Heelshire spoke softly, asking her husband to take your things up to your designated room before getting your attention,

“We might as well get started.”

Leading you up the stairs with Brahms in her arms she made simple small talk, “Are you sure you’re alright with being all alone out here?” You nodded, but she continued as if she wasn’t even waiting for a response.

“We’ve hired several nannies before, but Brahms rejected them all. Though none were quite as young and…” She pauses for a moment, clearly searching for the proper words.

”Unique as you are…” You let out a sharp laugh, putting a hand to your mouth before giggling softly. You could hear her huff out her own amusement, and you lit up at the sound.

“You will wake him at seven o’clock each morning and you will dress him.” You nod, standing a foot or so away from the sitting woman, your hands neatly folded in your front. On her lap sat a now blue pyjama wearing doll. “On the dresser are his clean clothes.” She said, standing sharply. You take a step back before turning towards the red drawers where the clothes sat.

From behind you could hear the rustling of fabric as she securely tucked in Brahms. Turning you walked to the side opposite of her, heart slightly raised by her intense observation.

Taking a breath you placed the clothes on the foot of the mattress, clearing your throat before gently sitting on the edge. Tenderly you brushed the faux hair from his forehead.

With a gentle smile you spoke in a clear and pronounced voice,

“It’s time to wake up Brahms.”

Mrs. Heelshire stared for a moment, observing the interaction. With a huff she sneered coldly,

“Not too loud, you’re acting as if you want to startle him awake.” She said sternly. You feel redness spreading in your cheeks, averting your gaze from her chiding.

Suddenly you hear a clear thump coming from the wall behind the headboard, making you jump letting out an unflattering squeak.

Her head whipped towards the plaster, eyes glaring daggers at the wall as if it were alive to feel her fury. Blinking confusedly at the display, you were quickly met with her stern voice.

“The pipes and walls are older than us both, so expect this on a regular occurrence.”

After nodding meekly the woman turned her attention back towards the doll. You followed, worrying your lip before speaking,

“Guess I should try dressing him now..?”

Mrs. Heelshire only dipped her head in confirmation, handing you Brahms before leading you back down to the lower floor and into a grandiose-like music room, accompanied by a grand piano. Stepping in front of a desk she spoke in a quick paced manner,

“He has lessons five days a week for three hours, and I have always preferred starting with poetry, do you know any?”

Your head snapped up from where you stood, mid arranging the doll to sit with its legs crossed and hands folded on his knees.

“Uhm..” You thought for a moment, eyes then lighting up with recognition.

“Oh! I love Edgar Allan Poe! Off the top of my head I know The Cask of Amontillado.”

You beamed proudly. She stared at you for a brief moment before humming with (hopefully) approval.

“Either way you must speak in a clear loud voice.”

“Of course!” You said with a smile, but was met only with an expectant look. Realizing what she wanted, you tried again, cringing slightly at your own voice’s slight echo.

Her eyes tensed slightly before she let out a sigh, eyes drifting towards the sonogram.

“I guess we should move on to music appreciation..“ She said with a hum.

“Music… I don’t know how Brahms would go on without his music.” She approached the machine, grabbing the handle before cranking. “Granted, he likes it much louder than I would prefer, but, it’s his world…”

As the pin hit the spinning record, piercing blares of classical music began echoing throughout the building. Flinching you slam your hands against your ears while your teeth grit in a useless attempt at distraction.

The woman stared with bewilderment, then quickly pulled the pin off.

For a moment you both stood in awkward silence, heart racing as your face flushed red.

“Are you quite all right..?” Her eyes were narrow, and you could feel the slight judgment at your reaction. Your hands quickly fall to your side, squeezing and unsqueezing at the hem of your skirt.

“S-sorry, I-I just didn’t e-expect that..”

She stared with what you knew was most likely judgement, and part of yourself wanted desperately to just sink into the floor and cease existence entirely.

Suddenly, there was an unmistakable sound of porcelain falling. In a flash Mrs. Heelshire rushed across the room and knelt before Brahms, fussing tenderly as she fixed his posture.

You watched with slight befuddlement, but quickly shook away any lingering judgment.

You knew first hand what grief can do to one’s heart, and you were determined to lessen the bearings of these poor parents.

“We don’t throw out any food in this house Miss,” Mrs. Heelshire quipped as she watched you begin walking towards the bin.

You turn to face her, tray filled with Brahms’ untouched food held to your chest with a quick tilt of your head. She continued,

“We’re what you’d call a Country House. Do you know what that means dear?” You shake your head, and she only hums in response. Turning she opens a cupboard and reaches for a tupperware bowl with a bright red lid.

“It means we are at constant war with the elements.” She makes her way towards the kitchen island with you following, “The weather, plants, vermin- Especially the vermin!”

She scoffs with her final exclamation, practically snatching the tray from your hands and proceeded to angrily put away the meal. Taking a breath she lifts her head to face you,

“We have taken many measures to keep the rodents from getting into the house, especially into the walls. But our last nanny despised even stepping a foot near the traps. The house was infested within a week.”

You gawk in shock at her words, blinking rapidly before letting out a scoff of your own. “What the hell was her problem-? I can’t believe she’d let that happen!” After seething for a moment, you let out a quiet gasp at your “profanity”.

“S-sorry.. uhm- My mother was in the Army- I sort of grew up around-heh.. it won’t happen around Brahms…” Your face flushed red and suddenly the floor tiles were fascinating to you.

But surprisingly, you were met by a soft chortle, “She did have a stick up her rear.”

Looking up your eyes met with an amused Mr.Heelshire, who held the porcelain doll in his arms. His wife smiled ever so slightly before shaking her head.

“Daddy will show you the traps in the garden, then he will show you your other chores.” She spoke matter of factly, stepping away to grab Brahms from him.

“First uh, let me show you where the freezer is.” He said, shuffling his way towards the counter and grabbing the leftover meal.

“We try our best to keep the rats out of the house,” He spoke softly, slowly bending down to grab the trap. Sparingly, he let you just hold the bag while he grabbed the carcasses.

“Like mum said, they get in the walls, and Brahms well..” He paused, holding the now empty trap in his hands,

“He’s always been very shy, not the most fond of animals…” You hum in acknowledgement while nodding along, mulling over the sealed windows in your head, blanching at the thought of a fire breaking out and you quickly put two and two together on why you’re not to light the fireplace.

“I did think it was a bit excessive… but better safe than sorry- Isn’t that right Miss?”

You snap back quickly from your thoughts, grinning meekly with another bob of your head, then suddenly feel self conscious at the fact you had been replying like so frequently. You duck your head with a shy expression.

The old man furrowed his brows not judgmentally, but more so of pity.

“I know what this might look like dear.. and…” He paused before taking a breath as you slowly faced him fully.

“I.. don’t even know how it came to this.. it started so small- and… I believe it snowballed into something…” He shook his head, huffing as he faced you with a look you could almost describe as.. desperate.

“What I’m trying to say is whatever it may look like on the surface.. to those from the outside…our son is still with us. He is still here.”

You didn’t know what to say.

So you just followed him wordlessly as thoughts swarmed your mind.

The elderly couple dressed and tucked the doll to bed as you observed awkwardly at the doorway, watching as they spoke soft prayers to a doll.

“God bless Mummy, God bless Daddy…”. Pausing, they then spoke your name with a slight hesitance you couldn’t understand as they continued, “And God bless me…”

“You were such a good boy today Brahms, you behaved like a little gentleman.” While she whispered hushed praise Mr. Heelshire turned from where he knelt to face you, leaning over to whisper something to his wife. Her head turned to you as she spoke in rushed tone,

“Could you give us a moment please?”

“O-of course!” You stuttered stepping backwards, but before you could even reach out the old man was already slamming the wooden door shut.

Blinking in shock you stood for a long moment, but truthfully you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any resentment towards the elderly couple. You know what that doll means, what loss it represents to them. Part of you hopes that they would accept you, if only for the chance to ease the burden of their grief by simply taking care of Brahms..

It’d be simple. It had to be.

Snapped from your thoughts you’re met with the creaking sound of the old door, the couple stepping out with tight expressions.

The woman looked at you with strange eyes, taking a breath before she spoke,

“He wants you.”

That night you laid sprawled on your stomach as you scrolled leisurely, patting yourself on the back mentally at the fact you had changed your internet plan before arriving.

Your headset blared sweet melodies into your ears, finding yourself humming along absentmindedly.

“Sometimes I scare myself~ but I can’t help, what I can’t help.”

Your eyes flicked across the screen, utterly engrossed in the current in one of the many dark romance novels you oh so happily indulged in, that was until your phone rudely paused your music and blurred the screen as a banner titled ‘Take ur 💊’ hung at the top.

Your annoyance was short lived however, when in your headphones began blaring,

“I’m on them An-ti-depressants!

We feelin’ good today!

W-w-watch me make an entrance- Yeah, I’m the shit today.”

Grinning at your own antics, you rolled onto your back before sitting up with an overdramatised groan, standing as you stretched and very satisfyingly pop your back.

With a sigh you shuffle your way towards the connected bathroom, a giddy smile plastered across your face as you study your extremely oversized but adorable Ghostface hoodie. Once inside you open the small medicine cabinet above the sink and grab three of six bottles.

Two were for anxiety, but one also works as an antidepressant. The third was simply Benadryl, which you grabbed two of.

Popping them in your mouth you reach for the small glass cup that you had grabbed from the kitchen. Turning on the sink you poured only a small amount of water, just enough to help swallow. Finishing with a huff you also decide to go ahead and brush your teeth as well.

Leaving the sink running you brushed mindlessly, staring blankly at your reflection. For some reason it slightly irked you, like it wasn’t just a mirrored version of yourself staring back. Your eyes tightened as you leaned forward to spit out the paste before using the cup again to rinse.

Looking back up towards yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s gaze.

You sighed tiredly, eyes slipping shut with a shake of your head. Wiping your face off with a hand towel you quickly made your way back towards the bed, shutting off the lights before climbing back into warm sheets.

____

His heart was practically jumping into his throat, chest heavy with every hushed breath he took. Your gaze was pointed directly at his, gently yet searching eyes locked onto his masked face.

But you weren’t looking at him at all.

No, your eyes were fixed with your own mirrored ones, unaware he sat just behind the one way mirror.

That simple truth crashed against him as if he was being crushed by roaring waves.

He watched as you walked away, waiting for the shut of the bathroom door before finally clicking open the latch attached to the glass and pushing it open.

With practiced ease he crawled down to the floor. He left the secret door agape, just in case he needed a quick escape.

Tentatively, he reached for your toothbrush, still wet and sudsy from use.

The smell was sweet and acidic, different to his occasional mint. His heart raced as he thought about how this is what your breath smells like, that your tongue tastes just like-

Growing impatient he shoved his mask to the side before encasing the brush between his lips, tongue swirling around it as he groaned, savouring the flavour of your spit and the sweet toothpaste, all the while fantasising it was your mouth he explored, in place of lifeless rubber.

Slightly satisfied he set the plastic brush back in its cup, turning his attention instead towards your discarded clothes tossed messily in the corner.

Shifting through he grabbed your pink and white striped tights along with the matching sports bra and underwear, both printed with cartoonishly drawn cats in astronaut suits floating around in what looked to be outer space, making him smile softly.

Before shoving all three into his pocket, he took a moment to admire your outfit of the day, mesmerised by every detail and splash of pastel color.

He had never seen a girl like you before, granted, he’s seen very few girls in his life that weren’t old hags. But you, you were different. Decorating your skin as if you were a canvas with eccentric makeup and brightly colored hair.

It was only logical you’d wear clothing to match your beautiful body, a sheer pink and blue ruffled skirt paired with a corseted shirt. You were his perfect doll, a one of a kind gem he couldn’t wait to brandish.

Dropping the fabric he turned to leave, but as he did was met by a dress he hadn’t noticed, hanging delicately onto a hook.

It was black with short puffy sleeves and a high ruffled collar. The skirt was equally puffed out as the sleeves, an adorable lace trimming decorating the bottom edge.

His heart soared at the sight, legs moving on their own he went straight for it, yanking it off the hook before attempting to pull it off of its hanger. Huffing in frustration he tried pulling at the collar before feeling a small zipper in the back. Smiling triumphantly he hurriedly pushed it down.

With it finally free he lifted it up towards his face, inhaling the sweet air of your scent. Placing back the hook he turned on his heels and made his way back into his sanctuary, already knowing where to put his new favorite thing.

——

Chapter 1 - You and Me, We’re Not the Same. (Coming August 20)

[typicalchaos]

To excuse my sudden disappearance I got the latest chapters of Deltarune and I have been

✨Addicted✨

[typicalchaos]

main take aways from Halloween (1978) rewatch:

michael myers is canonically 21??? this bitch should be at the club

*sees tiddies* ***MURDEROUS RAMPAGE NOISES***

that's it that's the movie

outside of the fact that everyone who has sex is murdered by the narrative, this is a surprisingly chill portrayal of female sexuality? these teen girls are horny and actively enjoying Getting It On with their boytoys. no pushy boyfriends sneaking in through their bedroom windows--these ladies are taking the initiative to sneak out and GET SOME. one of them gets laid and then immediately orders her boyfriend to get her a beer. (yes she gets Slashered soon afterward, but so does the boyfriend so honestly, gender equality.) yes the Final Girl is the only one not having sex, but she's not bullied for that, nor are her friends slut shamed except possibly by being murdered by the narrative

actually the only character who is shown being morally condemned on-screen is michael myers. specifically FOR his violent overreaction to other people's sex lives. (people he is spying on). metaphorically, the villain is American Puritanism sticking its judgy nose into other people's business.

aka Michael Myers Is A Republican

but actually the real villain is the doctor. guy's a judgemental, shaming, pathologizing asshole. and he's been in charge of michael's care since he was SIX YEARS OLD? kid never had a chance. i'd go on a killing spree too

also the parents. where are the parents? it's halloween night and all the teenage girls are home babysitting their younger siblings? come to think of it, michael's first victim was his own older sister, whom he killed while she was babysitting him. teen girls are really shouldering a labour burden here. maybe parentification is the true villain

side note: mike commits his first murder wearing a clown costume...which is never referenced again? his 'iconic' costume is a generic mask and wig and jumpsuit, when we coulda had a Killer Clown Michael Myers??? travesty

i like how the Final Girl and her friend casually smoke weed in her car. yeah she's an honor student and her friend is the sheriff's daughter. yeah they smoke weed. so what it's 1978

(to reiterate, mike is 21 and should be at the club. im not saying he shouldn't be rampaging, im saying it's sad that he broke out, tasted freedom for the first time in his life, and immediately snuck back into his childhood home to go rampaging. let's have a remake where he goes to a nightclub and has a few beers. maybe some slutty dancing. then rampage)

oh no he's hot

[typicalchaos]

[typicalchaos]

Slashers Reacting to Their S/O Asking Them to Kill a Spider But it’s an Okinawa Banana Spider

A/N- Hai friends! So as someone who grew up in Oki Ima tell you those fuckers are BIG and they really do be looking like some shit from Alien.

This first started as a “oh slashers s/o being scared of an itty bitty spider lol” then I thought back to my childhood and remembered why my fear of spiders is so fucking fair. (Was biking at like age 6 and looked up to be greeted by one of them SoBs chilling in a size proportionate web-PERFECTLY ABOVE THE SIDEWALK MIND YOU)

Also ik they’d never rly encounter one cause they ain’t in Japan but idgaf and this is funny so they all moved to Okinawa for this one lol

So I wrote this!!- thank you for listening to my tedtalk!

Slashers: Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Billy & Stu, Bo Sinclair

Warnings: All I can think of is profanity lmao- enjoy!!

Billy Lenz

• Will kill anyone and anything for you, so does so no questions asked immediately.

• Basically- “BILLY KILL IT!!” *bang* “oh shit was that a toaster?”

• Will probably keep the corpse to your dismay, probably thinking it’s the coolest looking bug he’s ever seen. I really couldn’t see him being scared of it.

Brahms Heelshire

• Living in the walls you get used to all kinds of creepy crawlies, and Brahms also had a soft spot for spiders, feeling solace in the fact that people fear and despise them even though they benefit society, hated for their appearance and nature. (They also helped with particularly nasty bugs-great bonus).

• So whenever you would cry or yell in fear, Brahms would gently and calmly capture any normal lil guy and lovingly place it outside or in the walls away from you.

•That being said, Brahms ran away screaming the second he laid eyes on the monstrosity.

• He’s down for getting the small-even cute spiders for you, but fuuuck that.

• Eventually he’ll grab a fire poker and stab it before running away crying with you in tow, also crying- it kept twitching!! (ಥ﹏ಥ)

• You’ll probably have to take care of the body cause no way is he going near it- he will however vehemently demand you throw that sucker in the fireplace.

Jason Voorhees

• Growing up in the wilderness Jason has made peace with nature as a whole, has even come face to face with a bear- but what the heck is that!?

• Genuinely thinks it’s some kind of hell creature of alien with how freaky it looks, half wondering if his mother’s voodoo has something to do with it for a sec.

• Freaked out, but he’s not going to fail his beloved. Simply stabbing it with his trusty machete he’s quick to dispose of it, though keeping it at arms length-just in case.

Billy & Stu

• Extremely smug and obnoxious at first when they hear you crying for them, but are quickly humbled when they look up at the ceiling corner.

• Stu starts babbling, “Yooo the fuck is that? It’s like a freaking face hugger!!”

• Billy refuses to take his eyes off of it, and you wonder if he’s worried if he does it’ll pounce at him.

• Stu makes a suggestion to just shoot it, but Billy makes the logical decision to grab a broom and swat at the damn thing.

• Backfired immediately when it fell to the floor and started tweeking out.

• Billy, ever the problem solver, would proceed to smack the ever loving shit out of the thing while Stu hoops and hollers while jumping away.

• Once it’s dead Stu picks it up and starts waving it around before Billy smacks him with the broom.

Bo Sinclair

• “It’s just a damn spid-WHAT IN THE HELL!?”

• Would genuinely consider shooting it, bugs should not be allowed to get so big.

• Might actually shoot it depending on where it is; say it’s hanging in a web in a tree bud’s gonna use the mofo as target practice.

• If it somehow got inside he’d just probably grab the bat and swing at it.

• Would never admit it freaked him out- “Just got surprised it was so damn big’.” Mmhmm (｡ˇ艸ˇ)

[typicalchaos]

As someone also soft spoken this made me wanna cry

(⋟﹏⋞)(´ω｀*)

soft-spoken s/o

TLDR: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, Jennifer Check, and Bo Sinclair's reactions to having a fairly quiet s/o WORD COUNT: 1k CW: none, fluff AO3

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

Thomas Hewitt

ironically would not be used to the silence at first; he’s used to chatters and screaming! He’s never met someone who speaks so quietly 

will lean towards you when you speak, listening intensely 

finds your silence comforting after the initial shock and enjoys your quiet presence as he goes about his business

quickly adapts to communicating with you via body language and facial expressions, etc; it is a method he’s familiar with after all

takes great pride that he’s the only one that can read your mind or decipher your mumbling

He couldn’t help but spare you a glance every so often as you sat at the opposite end of the barn as he worked. You were mending a shirt Luda Mae scavenged from some luggage…or at least trying to. Your bottom lip was swollen from being gnawed on and your brow was furrowed–the needlework must be tedious, he concluded. He turned his attention back to his work, a few minutes passed before he decided to glance up again only to find that you were muttering to yourself, trying to rethread the string through the eye.

Despite finding your frustration amusing, he couldn’t take your suffering anymore. He strode over to you, gently enveloping your hand in his before plucking the needle away. He made quick work of the thread, giving you a knowing look as he set back to work, but not before hearing a quiet “Thank you Tommy.” 

Brahms Heelshire

does not enjoy that he can’t coax loud reactions from you; he works so hard to mess with you and you don’t say anything?! How rude!

will switch gears and will purposefully pretend not to know what you’re gesturing to or that he can’t hear you to annoy you; he can play by your game but he won’t play fair

he’s been (watching) studying you through the walls so it’s quite easy for him to pick up on your body language to know what you’re feeling or wanting of him 

actually likes your voice and will do everything in his power to get you to use it; even if it means getting a scolding 

bedtime is his favorite part of the day because he gets to listen to you read; will pick out exceptionally long books to listen to you just a while longer 

Echoes etched the room as you tapped your foot against the dusty rug. He had been in a mood all afternoon: being especially disobedient and ignoring your calls from within the walls. He was being so difficult that you had no choice but to search for him, though it proved to be in vain as you couldn’t find him anywhere. A worried knot began to form in your stomach. There was only one thing you could do. With a deep inhale you rolled your head on your shoulders before letting out a shout.

“Brahms!” Your voice was hoarse–not used to being at such a volume, rolling your eyes in frustration “Please come out!” The scraping of wood met your ears shortly before his long arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You bit the interior of your cheek as you could hear the smugness in his voice, having won his game.

“There’s no need to shout.”

Jennifer Check

“they said no pickles.” embodiment 

at first, mistakes your quietness for being flustered by her and she amps up her prowess only to realize you’re like this…all the time…with everyone 

will speak for you whether it’s ordering your food or answering a question on your behalf; is actually exceptionally good at knowing what you want without much effort 

actually doesn’t mind the silence when you don’t feel like talking—grateful that you two can just share a moment together or that she can have someone to rant to

will not make a big deal if you feel talkative, she’ll casually continue the conversation in hopes it’ll make you feel more comfortable

“-and who does that? It’s bullshit!” she scoffed, gently scraping the tips of her long nails on the back of your hand as she laid next to you. You silently nodded in agreement, staring up at her face: her nose was scrunched and her eyes were glazed over, lost in thought–before suddenly snapping down to stare into your own. “I mean, you don’t think I’m in the wrong do you?” 

You couldn’t help letting your lip curl up at her pout, she had definitely been the cause of the altercation but you’d never tell her that; instead, you opted to halfheartedly shake your head. As expected, your poor acting didn’t go unnoticed and her eyes widened before playfully swatting her hand at your stomach.

“No way! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Bo Sinclair

“huh” x5

cannot understand what you’re saying for the life of him and gets annoyed very easily; more so at his own inability to comprehend you when everyone else seems to understand you just fine

interrupts you when you’re speaking, trying to guess what you’re saying instead of just listening 

puts on a big show to do as you asked when he does finally pick up on what you’re saying 

often wrongly infers what you’re saying but at least he’s trying

“Darlin’…'' he groaned, running a hand down his face “-you’re gunna needa work with me…” You huffed out a breath of air, already annoyed at having had to already repeat yourself twice and repeating yourself a third time honestly wasn’t even worth it; you just wanted the step-ladder to reach something in top-stock, but at this point you’d rather just climb the shelves themselves than have to be stuck in this never ending game of charades. You were half-tempted to do just that, but the look on Bo’s face made you relent; he had been so patient the least you could do was not give up on him.

“I need the ladder…” you said again, this time trying to enunciate your words as best as possible and to your surprise his face lit up. Not a great sign. 

“Bladder?” he repeated, not waiting for a response as he sped towards the shop counter, “Don’t worry baby! I’ll get the restroom key!”

[typicalchaos]

躲

是给520迈劳活动的贺图🥳🥳

[typicalchaos]

I take pictures of this scene like I’m at a goddamn concert

[typicalchaos]

No normal men for me please

[typicalchaos]

“Why don’t you have a partner? You legit never stop complaining about being single so tf?”

“I got pretty high standards…”

“Like what!?!?”

“Uhhh-”

[typicalchaos]

Slashers reaction to a stoner S/O and getting high

MDNI +18

A/N: Hai friends! As a resident stoner this is very near dear to my heart lmao- so I hope yall enjoy:33

Characters: Brahms Heelshire, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Billy Lenz, Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

Warnings: Slight smut warning, drug use, drugged sex, overall silliness

Brahms Heelshire

• Mari-what now? Tf is that? Knowing what we know about Brahms he never had all those normal sex ed or just say no talks- right? So I highly doubt he would even know what exactly it is, most likely thinking it’s like when his father smokes a cigar, but quickly realizing the difference once the smell wafts in.

• Takes a moment to understand the concept of getting high, but soon connects it to when people would get drunk.

• Extremely curious once he sees you under the influence, but also relishes in your sudden clinginess and lax state.

• Most definitely takes advantage if you find yourself feeling extra frisky- and practically bathes in your slurred ramblings of praise and “Shuch a good fucking boy..!!” cries of pleasure.

• The smell would kinda bother him at first, but after living in the walls for so long you get used to smells.

• Coughs every time he takes a hit, first time he nearly hacked up a lung and cried in your arms until the fit subsided.

• When it finally set in his attention seeking self flys through the roof-man’s is needy and most likely horny to boot.

• A big fan of shotgunning, but honestly is a big fan of anything if it means your mouth is on his.

• Will most certainly smoke to much and green out, either laying there like ((◎)＿(◎)) or crying profusely while sobbing out obscenities.

• All in all make sure he doesn’t go overboard and don’t get too stoned if he’s sober- knowing the mischievous brat he can be.

Michael Myers

• Gives zero fucks what you do in your free time, as long as it doesn’t distract you from what’s important (him).

• The first time you smoked around him he mostly just stared at you curiously.

• At first is quite indifferent to your baked state, sometimes a little annoyed when you gain enough blazed confidence to be extra clingy to him.

• Would try it when you’re not around, and takes a monster hit that he of course has zero reaction too.

• Just (°_°)

• Zones the absolute fuck out probably just sits for what feels like hours (like 40 minutes), only to be discovered by a very amused you.

• Would become quite docile, more focused on sensations around him, might even let you cuddle him just to feel you against his skin.

• If you’re feeling frisky this will be the most gentle he’ll ever be, absolutely losing himself as all he can think about is just how fucking good you feel.

• Might actually snuggle, in his own stiff way, mostly just wanting to hold and feel your warmth against him.

• Basically just invest in pot brownies if you enjoy your doped out Mikey.

Jason Voorhees

• “YOU DO WHAT NOW!?”

• Most certainly would not approve at first, seeing it as something horrible for you. It’d take a minute convincing and explaining to him your reasons and the benefits it provides for you, but still would be quite doubtful.

• In his mind bad people do drugs, but you’re not a bad person, so maybe it’s not as bad as he thinks.

• Definitely wouldn’t smoke, and you’re completely fine with that. But if you enjoy edibles and it slips your mind to inform him weeeelll-

• Super scared at first, just a nervous wreck. You’ll have to spend the beginning of it just soothing him. Mayhaps even eat one yourself so he doesn’t feel alone.

• Once settled he’s in such zen, just laying down on whatever and staring up at the sky/ceiling.

• Holds onto you for dear life, absolutely paranoid that you’ll disappear if he lets go.

• Lots of snuggles and gentle caressing, nuzzling your nose against his masked one like crazy.

• Overall be patient with this poor man.

Billy Lenz

• Doesn’t understand when you’re high and just thinks you’re being extra silly :3

• When explained to him he understands but doesn’t in his Billy way, “P-pretty kitty on c-catnip.”

• If you offer him a joint 9.9/10 chance he’ll immediately try to eat it.

• Wheezes and coughs like no tomorrow on his first hit, but surprisingly immediately goes back for more, when stopped for the poor sake of his lungs he looked at you with wide teary eyes, “B-Billy likes the spicy air!!”

• Speaking of you know those videos of cats doing catnip? Yeah that’s Billy. Zoomies like no tomorrow- and expect to be bit every chance he has.

• Immediate vacay to bone town, will whine, drool and hump like crazy until you give in, and his dirty talk will be more incoherent ramblings with snorts and growls all throughout.

• Major munchies and extreme cottonmouth, will inhale all food given and practically chomp at his water.

• Altogether be cautious when intoxicating your Billy.

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

• STU IS A STONER AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL!!!

• Both will smoke with you, but I definitely see Stu being more into it than Billy, who probably prefers liquor over the devils lettuce.

• Both would purposefully get you absolutely sloshed just for funsies, Stu most likely would have a blast just messing with you, but Billy would take advantage of your loose tounge, questioning you about what you think of them, if you’re really in it for the long run and devoted to them.

• Stu gets even more playful when stoned, cracking jokes and making you nearly pass out from laughter.

• Billy gets lost in his head just slightly, but also becomes more flirty and touchy with you, ending in sloppy make outs.

• In general be wise when getting high with these troublemakers.

[typicalchaos]

Character/Movie/Game/Show List!!

Basically a list of characters and media’s I’ll write for!

Halloween (1978)-

Michael Myers

Laurie Strode

The Boy (2016)

Brahms Heelshire

Greta Evans

Malcom

House of Wax

Bo Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Black Christmas

Billy Lenz

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

Bubba Sawyer

Nubbins Sawyer

Chop Top Sawyer

Drayton Sawyer

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003)

Thomas Hewitt

Scream (1996)

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Sydney Prescott

Tatum

Randy

Friday The Thirteenth

Jason Voorhees

Dead By Daylight

Evan MacMillan/Trapper

Philip Ojomo/Wraith

Max Thompson Jr./Hillbilly

Sally Smithson/Nurse

Herman Carter/Doctor

Anna/Huntress

Frank/Legion

Danny Johnson/Ghostface

Kazan Yamaoka/Oni

Pyramid Head

Ji-Woon Hak/Trickster

I can almost guarantee that this list will grow- so don’t be afraid to ask for someone or something specific!! Who knows I might know them and will love to write for them