deady-nightshade

[deady-nightshade]

Cuddling the Slashers HCs 🔪

✨Let’s Snuggle!✨

Slashers Included: Asa Emory (The Collector), Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull), Brahms Heelshire, Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Pinhead, and Billy Lenz 

Warning/Disclaimer: Mentions of sex (nothing graphic), mentions of abuse (physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual), mentions of mental illnesses/disorders, swearing, blood, stitches, biting, slasher stuff, aftercare, stitches, bandages, and tooth-rotting fluff. 

**First time writing for Billy Lenz! Let me know what you think**

**Not Proofread: We will go down with this ship like the adults we are**

Asa Emory (The Collector): 

The only time this man will permit cuddles is when the two of you are in bed going to sleep, or have just had sex. Cuddles, especially after having sex, are usually gentle. He will take that time to inspect any marks that he had made (and after patching/stitching them up), he will hold you close and wait for you to fall asleep. And once you are asleep, he will kiss your face and brush the hair from your face. 

The cuddles are for you, not him. As I’ve started many times, Asa isn’t the biggest fan of touching, so he has tons of limits (when he can/wants to be touched, how he wants to touched, spots that you cannot touch him, and so on), and he will enforce those limits if need be. 

Even though he’s particular with touch, and might straight up deny you at times, there’s a part of him, deep down, that craves touch and affection (but he will never admit this). The only time he actually craves contact and affection is after having a rough day (whether at work or with his collection *cough* Arkin  *cough*. 

Big Spoon vs Little Spoon: Big spoon all the way! It’s a control and dominance thing for him. Don’t even try to pull a fast one on him...he will not hesitate to punish you. But if you’re into that then you go right for it (I won't judge). 

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull):

He loves having you laying on top of him (it doesn’t matter your size!). You are his personal weighted blanket! I picture him laying with his legs slightly parted and you occupying the space that he had made

Loves it when you gently run your fingers up and down his scarred face, especially if you place feather-light kisses on them and whisper sweet words of adoration and love. Now, if you were with him before the accident, it will take time (a lot of time), before he is willing to let you touch his face and see him up close and personal like this. But with patience, understanding, and love, he will slowly open back up. And even though his brain can’t interpret pain signals, the rest of his body can. So if you were to touch his face during healing and shortly after, his blood pressure will go up (and not in a good way), and so on. 

The two of you initiate and receive cuddles equally. And this man will put down whatever he is working on to hold you, and if he can’t for whatever reason, he will pull you onto his lap and continue working. 

Big Spoon vs Little Spoon: Either or. If you are shorter than him (and I mean significantly shorter, like under a foot) he will find your attempts at spooning him adorable. And if you are on the taller side, he will enjoy the feeling of your face buried in his upper back, especially If you press kisses the exposed skin. 

Brahms Heelshire:

Needy boy: He wants and needs to be taken care 24/7! He will demand cuddles at anytime, regardless of what you are in the middle of doing, and if you can't accommodate him right away, he will throw a fit. Just kiss his forehead and whisper in his ear, ‘Later, Brahms. I promise’. Brahms will momentarily freeze, and then be pliant for the rest of the day, allowing you to continue do your chores and whatnot. 

Brahms will cuddle you anywhere: couch, chair, bench, bathtub, bed... wherever, whenever. When the two of you finally do cuddle, this man will situate himself between your legs, rest his head on your chest, wrap his arms around your waist, and proceed to turn into a puddle of goo. 

Good luck getting up. Once you are down, you’re down for the count. The only time you are getting up is when Brahms gets up, and this man will not move. 

Big Spoon vs Little Spoon: Both! Loves any and all cuddles. Position does not matter! Just as long as the two of you are touching and holding one another, he’s on cloud 9. 

Thomas Hewitt: 

What I would give to be hugged by Thomas-fucking-Hewitt! His arms are strong, thick, and so warm! You cannot tell me that he would give some of the most loving and intimate hugs/cuddles. 

Loves holding you whenever and wherever he can. He will hold and cuddle you in front of Luda Mae and on occasion, Monty, but he will not do it in front of Hoyt for obvious reasons, 

When he holds you in his arms, that’s when Thomas truly feels like he is home. Yes, he is always with his family, but with Hoyt’s cruelty and Monty's indifference, sometimes that feeling of home goes away. But with you, he knows he’s loved and treasured. You are his home. 

Big Spoon vs Little Spoon: Thomas is primarily the Big Spoon for two major reasons; one, he loves having you pressed against his chest with his arms holding you tight, and two, he loves being the position of protecting and serving you. If he's had a rough day (due to Hoyt, chasing victims, etc...), Thomas loves being cared and tended by you. When you hold him and take that role of protector, Thomas could cry tears of happiness. You make him feel so safe. 

Bo Sinclair:

This man is a fucking gremlin — he likes to tease and play with you, and he likes making you work for things. Oh, you want to cuddle, best believe that this man is going to unleash hell on you: tickling, biting, spanking, hair pulling, the works! He will only give in if you won against him, so prepared to play dirty and do subliminal flirting. 

The only time he will actually cuddle you (without rough housing), is after you two have had sex. That’s the only time he lets down his tough-guy’s persona. 

And because of his tough-guy persona, he does not like cuddling in high-traffic areas, ie, living room, porch, mechanic shop, etc... He will only cuddle you in the privacy of your shared bedroom and the shower. The only time he will cuddle you in front of someone is when he's jealous or annoyed with his brothers (he likes rubbing their faces in with your guys’ relationship). 

Big Spoon vs Little Spoon: Big Spoon! He is the ‘dominant’ one in the relationship and has very old-fashioned beliefs engrained in his head. On the rare occasion, you can spoon him, but that only happens when he is exhausted or already passed out in bed. 

Vincent Sinclair: 

I want to play with his hair so badly Imagine cuddling him and running your fingers through his long, silky hair! 

Most of your cuddle sessions will occur in the basement, and your shared bedroom. He has no qualms with Lester seeing the two of you being intimate, but it’s a whole other story if Bo were to see. Better safe than sorry.

Loves kissing your face, especially your nose, cheeks and lips. You are his muse and loves seeing your face, even if you have a serious case of bedhead, smeared makeup, and whatnot. You are beauty personified to this man, and he wants to show you how much he loves you by placing tender kisses and caresses to your face.

Big Spoon vs Little Spoon: He has no preference. He loves holding you and being with you in any and every way. If he's had a hard day, he wants nothing more than to lay in your arms and be loved. And Vincent loves serving and protecting you, and that translates to him wrapping his body and arms around you. 

Pinhead (Hell Priest):

The first time you try to cuddle them, you will approach them from behind, causing Pinhead to jump and look down at you in confusion. 

“What are you doing, little human?” 

“I’m cuddling you!” 

Cue a very confused yet intrigued Cenobite. Once he is properly cuddled, this Cenobite will yearn for cuddles. Cenobites do not cuddle — they fuck and maim, so having your arms wrapped around them is a wonderful and welcomed sensation, albeit, a tad bit odd. 

After cuddles have been established in your relationship, they will surprise you by approaching you from behind and wrapping their arms around you. The same way that you cuddled them for the first time. There’s something intimate about holding someone from behind.

Big Spoon vs Little Spoon: Either! It really depends on whether or not their pins have been removed and what position the two of you end up in. I HC them liking it when you lay on their chest, but again, this Cenobite loves to cuddle! 

Billy Lenz:

Oh, boy, this where things get a little complicated....unlike the other slashers on this list, not much is known about Billy, except for the pieces we get here and there when he's talking to the girls on the phone. He was abused, that much is clear, and I believe it was physical, verbal, emotional, and possibly sexually, along with having a mental disorder/illness. And as we know, Billy fell into the cycle of abuse: He was abused and became an abuser to his sister, Agnes. We also know that he did not receive the proper care he needed in order to undo all those years of trauma. 

Dating Billy has its many challenges, but the biggest one is how he sees woman...he hates woman but he lusts them at the same time. Your relationship is going to move at snail’s pace, it needs to, especially when it comes to physical contact. And even when Billy is used to it, there are going to be periods of time where he does not want to be touched, and he might snap at you if you try touching him. He needs your patience and love if he is going to get better (along with intensive therapy and treating his mental illnesses/disorders). 

Now, when it comes to cuddles and cuddling Billy, it’s going to be entirely dependent on his mental state at the moment. Sometimes he will tackle you and demand attention, other times he will hesitantly hold you and physically be there, but he won’t be there mentally. When that happens, just hold him and reassure him, especially if he begins muttering to himself and verbally repeating the words of abuse that he suffered as a child and early teen. 

Big Spoon vs Little Spoon: Both! If he is having a hard time staying present and controlling his emotions and thoughts, please get behind him and hold him, or better yet, pull him onto you so he’s basically laying on you, and ran your hands up and down his back. If he's having a good day, then he might be big spoon. But again, I see the two of you cuddling more face-to-face, with your legs intertwined. 

[deady-nightshade]

Slasher Update & Poll!

Hello, everyone! 

I will be adding another Slasher to the roster: Billy Lenz from Black Christmas! I have a few drafts that I am working on and plan on inserting Billy into them. I will be using the 1974 movie as primary reference, but I might add in a few elements from the 2006 movie...I’m still debating on it. I also plan on adding Billy Loomis as well, and possibly Stu Macher. 

What other Slashers would you like to add to the roster? 

Again, I will not write for Michael Myers or Freddy Krueger Other than that, I am open to suggestions, so please comment! 

[deady-nightshade]

Slashers with a Curvy S/O HCs pt 2 💀

This is for all my curvy followers out there! As a curvy woman myself, I wanted to write a HC with Slashers and how they would react to having a curvy S/O (hourglass/pear figure).

Slashers Included: Asa Emory, Brahms Heelshire, and Vincent Sinclair 

Warning/Disclaimer: NSFW, mentions of sex (positions), swearing, blood, slasher violence, mommy issues (Brahms), luring victim, spanking/pinching, Slashers being perverts.

**Not Proofread: We will go down with this ship like the adults we are**

**PS. I legit spent an hour googling sex positions and trying to determine which slasher would like which position. And I also found out that there is something called ‘The Tantra Chair’. The things I do for this blog.** 

Read Part 1 here! 

Asa Emory (The Collector):

I don't see Asa having a specific type, but curvy women hold a special place in this man’s cold, black heart. 

As we know, Asa likes to collect things that are different. And in this day and age, the media has painted a very clear picture of what they consider  beauty to be (I could write a thesis paper on this claim, but now is not the time). 

Therefore, when As sees you doing your own thing, wearing clothes that highlight your beautiful and soft curves, this man is immediately intrigued.  He’s already thinking about how he’s going to add you to his collection.

If you win his attention and affections as Asa, as opposed to The Collector, then you are safe (well, as safe as you can be dating a serial killer). 

I picture his favorite outfit of yours being a form fitting turtleneck sweater, form fitting plaid skirt that ends mid-thigh, dark tights, and a darling pair of boots. I HC him loving the Academia/Dark Academia style. 

Asa loves holding you by the hip and waist. 

Whenever the two of you are out in public, he will always have a hand on you for two reasons: 

One, to steer you in the direction that he wants to go, and to not lose you.

Two, as means of possession — people (especially men), need to know that you belong to him. 

He also loves watching you get dressed. He finds your jean dance amusing, and always notes the way you look over your figure from every angle when trying on outfits. 

If, for whatever reason, you start to show some signs of self-consciousness, Asa, in a surprisingly tender moment, will distract you with soft kisses along your face, and move your away from whatever reflective surface you were looking into. In his eyes, you are perfect and he doesn’t want your mind (wether it’s due to body dysmorphia or not), to negatively effect the way you see/value yourself. 

This man will also spank you if you are being pouty and moody! 

Now, for the bedroom...

Asa is a freak in the sheets, you can not tell me otherwise, especially with that man’s curious and perfectionistic mindset.

I see him liking Modified Doggy (aka Lazy Doggy/Concubine), bending you over counters/tables, and the Pole Position (legit had to look this up). 

Loves starting in regular doggy, going agonizingly slow, then pressing you all the way down on the bed, only to follow you. Once his chest is pressed against your back, he will move your legs further apart and fuck you so deeply and thoroughly, and he won’t stop until he’s done, even if that means you have orgasmed many times and are sobbing from oversensitivity. 

If he’s tired (which happens on occasion with his two jobs and demanding hobby), he will let you climb on top of him, but make emo mistake, he is still in control. Asa will bend one leg and you will grab ahold of it, then you will begin riding him and grinding your sensitive clit against his thick, tensed thigh. Asa will be watching with lust blown eyes as his cock disappears and reappears while you ride him. And he loves seeing your thighs tense with exertion, and ass jiggle. 

Brahms Heelshire: 

Mommy? 

Curvy women are Brahms’ kryptonite! 

Your relationship with Brahms started off strained. 

He associated it your womanly curves, wide hips and soft body, with that of an idealized mother-figure. But as we know, Brahms is a horny, touch-starved man. Which caused him to feel a whole array of contradictory emotions regarding you. 

At first, he would play the role of needy boy: never leaving your side, listening you (within reason), demanding bed-time stories and a kiss on the cheek, but that whole persona changed when he saw Malcolm making a move on you. 

Brahms knew that you were beautiful, but he had not expected Malcolm to become besotted with you. 

And as we know, Brahms does not handle jealousy well...he becomes a violent and possessive man. 

But Brahms needed to see Malcolm flirting with you to shift his (Brahms’) view of you from ‘mother’ to ‘lover’. 

And as soon as Malcolm is gone, Brahms storms out of the wall, grabs a hold of our waist, and he drops to his knees, pressing his maskless face against your plush thighs. 

You are no longer his ‘mother’, you are his ‘lover’, and he does not hesitate to illustrate the change in your guys’s relationship. 

I see him loving sex positions that allow him to kiss and suckle on your breasts, but also allow him control. Such as, the Lap Dance (aka Face Off), Missionary, and Lazy Man (similar to Face Off). 

Brahms is thrusting in and out of you at fast, merciless pace, and your arms and legs are wrapped around him. He is sitting on the edge of the bed, using the cold, hardwood floor as a spring board, allowing him more leverage while thrusting. And he alternates from kissing, bitting, and suckling on your breasts and pebbled nipples, all while you are cradling his curled head with your heads and crying out in ecstasy. 

If you two are in missionary, Brahms will snap his hips with no restraint, and he's moaning and groaning in your ear while placing bruising kisses on the column of your neck. All while his hands are roaming the expanse of your naked and sweat-beaded body. 

I don’t see Brahms spanking you (he might do it on occasion if he's feeling especially bratty), but he will pinch and cup your ass whenever the opportunity presents it. 

Vincent Sinclair:

Oh, our sweet little artist...

When he first sees you, he thinks that you are going to pick Bo over him, so imagine his surprise when you give him a dazzling smile. 

Not going to lie, Bo is going to be a little bitter that you chose Vincent over him, but don’t worry, as soon as another woman enters the town, Bo’s attention will snap to them. 

Vincent loves to sketch you! 

You could be drying dishes and the masked man will silently proclaim that you standing by the sink, is the most beautiful thing that he has ever seen. 

He will also surprise you by filming and taking pictures of you when you are least expecting it. 

You are his muse in every way. 

But in order for you to stay in Ambrose, you have to contribute to the town (as ordered by Bo), so you become a lurer. 

And unlike Bo, who likes that his Curvy S/O is a lurer, Vincent DOES NOT. 

He hates the thought of you being in any danger, even if that danger is almost nonexistent. 

Vincent will start an argument with Bo and after days of arguing (written and signed), your role had changed. Yes, you were to act as a lure if needed, but your primary role was to run into town and buy supplies and food. 

Now, if on the off chance that you had to act as a lurer, you best b believe that Vincent is watching from the shadows. If anyone tried to touch you or ignore your boundaries, Vincent will waste no time in killing them where they stand. 

In regards to sex, I see Vincent liking the same positions as Brahms because they allow him to kiss you and worship you, but I also see Vincent being into mirror play. 

He hates his reflection, but he wants you to see yourself flushed, sweating, and being made love to. So, when he decides to add mirrors into the bedroom, I see him liking the following positions: Spooning with your leg raised and resting over Vincent’s hip, and kneeling Oath (another one I had to look up). 

Both of these positions allow you to see Vincent slide in and out or sex with ease. With every thrust Vincent does when spooning you, his grip on your inner thigh tightens, leaving faint bruises. 

And while you’re kneeling in front of Vincent, his hands roam the entire expanse of your body, and he has his face buried in the curve of your neck. Your pupils are blown wide as you watch him thrust in and out of you, and you scream his name as one of his free hands begins to rub tight, fast circles against your clit. And as you cum, Vincent holds your head and forces you to cream around the base of his cock. 

[deady-nightshade]

Holding Slashers’ Hands 🔪

Includes the following Slashers: Asa Emory, Jesse Cromeans, Brahms Heelshire, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, and Pinhead

Warning/Disclaimer: Mentions of violence, victims, scars, and swearing. 

Asa Emory: 

Asa is indifferent to handholding. 

He doesn’t crave it, but he won’t push it away either. 

The only time he will willingly hold your hand is when the two of you are out in public, and that’s for two reasons: 

He doesn’t want to accidentally loose you, and if he hold your hand, he can steer you in the direction that he wants to go in. 

Everything Asa does, even if it seems romantic to you, is pre-calculated, and holds undertones of manipulation/control. 

If you do grab his hand, he will stop for a second, look at you with a poker face, then return to whatever is was that he was doing. 

Likes it when you grab his hand and place it on your body, especially if it is over your heart. 

When you do that, time slows down for him and makes him be present. 

He doesn’t have to worry about his jobs, or his collection. It’s just you and him. 

He has large, warm hands that are thick with calluses. There are also faint scars along his knuckles. 

Jesse Cromeans:

This man will ‘write’ messages on your palm. I see him doing this more when the two of you are sitting down, cuddling, or when he is driving. 

I also see him doing this to your back when you are trying to sleep. 

Loves feeling your fingernails ghost up and down his forearm and onto his palm. 

Will encase the entirety of your hand against his, and you best believe, your fingers will be entangled. 

Will hold your hand whenever the opportunity presents itself. Doesn't matter if you are in public or not...he will take your hand. 

I also see him bringing your hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. He’s a romantic like that. 

Is not afraid to initiate hand holding, and he will do it at the most random times to keep you on your toes. 

Large warm hands, and he wears rings (the major one being a platinum Chromeskull ring, and a wedding band if he’s married to you). 

Brahms Heelshire: 

Good luck getting your hand back from this needy man. 

Will not let you go. 

Oh, you have errands to do, tough shit. Once he has a hold of your hands, he’s not letting go. 

I picture him having perpetually cold hands (he always cold). He also has long fingers that are surprisingly dexterous. I HC him to have gorgeous hands, ones that could put a hand-model to shame. 

Will use your hands to warm his up. I also see him slipping his Hans under your clothes for that reason (along with wanting to be a tease)

I also imagine him holding your hand when he’s asleep.

He’s so touch starved that he will take anything you can give him. 

Can imagine him sitting behind you on the piano, teaching you how to play, with his hands on top of yours (think the pottery scene in Ghost). 

Thomas Hewitt

Like Jesse, Thomas likes to ‘write’ on your hands. 

However, unlike Jesse, I picture Thomas misspelling words (another weird HC I have about Tommy is that he dropped out of school early so that he could help provide for his family, but Luda Mae still taught him as much as she could). 

His hands are large and thick, and they are covered in scars from working in the slaughterhouse and killing victims. 

Thomas is shy in any and all forms of physical contact, especially if the acts pertain to intimacy of any kind. 

The first time you hold his hand, this man will freeze and his soul will momentarily leave his body. 

He’s not used to being touched in such a kind, warm, and loving manner (aside from Luda Mae). 

The only time he is touched is when the victims fight back, often times leaving bruises, cuts, gashes, etc...

Once he gets comfortable with handholding, he will gladly take your hand in yours, and he will lovingly brush his fingers against your knuckles — it’s a calming action for the both of you, and there’s some added intimacy to the action. 

And he will hold your hand wherever and whenever he can, even in front of Hoyt. The only time he won’t hold your hand is if Hoyt’s teasing or sneers start to bother you. 

Vincent Sinclair 

This man has soft hands! You cannot tell me otherwise; he spends all day making wax sculptures, some of those oils must get absorbed into his skin. And they smell like paraffin and fire. 

Like Bo, Vincent is touch starved, however, unlike his twin, Vincent has no qualms admitting this. 

Handholding comes easy as breathing for this man. 

It is instinctual. 

If you are near him, he will automatically reach for your hand. And most of the time he isn’t even aware that he is going it. 

And like Brahms, if you ever wanted to learn how to do wax sculptures, he will gladly teach you by placing his hands over yours and guiding you. 

You can hold his hand in Lester’s presence, but not in Bo’s. 

Bo Sinclair 

Our favorite cocky mechanic....

He will act like handholding is below him, but don’t let that fool you! He is touch starved and craves touch more than he will ever admit. 

9 times out of 10, you will have to initiate handholding. The only time he will initiate it is when he’s jealous, but even then, he will most likely grab your hip, neck, or even kiss you, as means to establish his claim. 

So while he doesn’t do intentional handholding, he will do unintentional handholding. 

Think brushing his hand against yours while reaching for something across the table. 

Bo has warm hands that almost always covered in grease, and some of it gets under his fingernails. 

And for the love of God, do not hold his hand when Vincent and Lester are present. He has an image to uphold. 

Pinhead 

Another human custom that they know nothing of.

When you first initiate hand holding, they will look at you like 🤨

But once you explain that hand holding is a common sign of dating and showing affection, they will be intrigued. 

They will want to know when handholding became a thing, and if the practice is worldwide, and if it is, does it differ from country to country. 

Be prepared to have the entire history of handholding ready in a slideshow. 

Pinhead will compare your hands

Yours are warm and filled with so much life. They are similar to their’s, but so different, and it’s those differences that they admire. 

Sometimes they forget about handholding, so they might be surprised when you suddenly grab theirs. But once your hands are intertwined with theirs, that surprise will turn into contentment. 

They will be happy if you just grab ahold of their hand randomly. 

And yes, you can hold his hand in front of other Cenobites, just be prepared with that slideshow. 

[deady-nightshade]

Slashers with a Curvy F!S/O HCs pt 1 💀

This is for all my curvy followers out there! As a curvy woman myself, I wanted to write a HC with Slashers and how they would react to having a curvy S/O (hourglass/pear figure). 

Slashers Included: Jesse Cromeans, Bo Sinclair, Pinhead and Thomas Hewitt

Warning/Disclaimer: NSFW, mentions of sex (positions), swearing, blood, slasher violence, luring victims, victim turned S/O reader, reader getting stuck due to their hips, S&M (Pinhead), hooks, blood, spanking, Slashers being perverts. 

**Not Proofread: We will go down with this ship like the adults we are**

Read Part 2 here! 

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull):

Three Words: Ass Grabber Champion!  

Will grab your ass anytime, anywhere. 

It doesn't matter what you are doing: cooking, cleaning, brushing your teeth, walking by...if your ass is out in the open, he’s grabbing a fist full of it. 

He will buy you the shortest and most form fitting dresses/skirts that he can find. And if he can't find what he wants, he’s meeting directly with a famous designer and getting you something custom made. 

As we know, money is of no importance. 

Loves watching you shimmy into tight clothes, especially jeans and leggings. 

He's honestly the perfectly balance between gentleman and pervert. 

If you are in public, he will hold back, but don’t be surprised if he rests his hand on your lower back and brushes his fingers against the topmost portion of your ass. 

The only exception to this is if Preston is around. Jesse loves rubbing Preston’f face in the things that he cannot have. 

If anyone were to hit on you, make comments about your physical appearance, stare, or just act inappropriate towards you, he will not hesitate to defend you....even if that means plucking their eyes out or straight up killing them. 

Jesse is possessive, and he is especially possessive of you. You are his world and in his eyes, you are a goddess on Earth. 

And it doesn’t matter your size or height, this man will throw you over his shoulder and carry you, all while firmly smacking your ass...when he does that, you know you’re in for a good time. 

Loves Doggy and Reverse Cowgirl because it allows him to see your voluptuous ass, and he can grab a hold of your wide hips and leave beautiful bruises. 

If you’re riding him, he will guide you with a firm grip on your hips, making you ride him harder and faster than you could on your own.

If you’re in doggy, this man will ravage you to the point of overstimulation and crying. 

PS, if you ask nice enough, Jesse will keep the Chromeskull mask on and make a tape with you as the star 😉😏

Bo Sinclair: 

If Jesse is the Ass Grabber Champion, then Bo is the Ass Slapping Champion. He loves watching it giggle and give way to his hand. 

And like Jesse, your ass is not safe from Bo. If he sees it, he’s slapping it, no ands, ifs, or butts (Ha! See what I did there?) 

Will purposefully drop things ang ask you to pick them up. He loves watching you bend down...your ass up in the air causes his breath to hitch. 

Will gladly use your curvy assets to his benefit, and will use you as a lure for tourists. 

I also see him ruffling through your closet and keeping/tossing clothes as he please. 

Oh, this shirt doesn’t highlight your defined waist — in the garbage it goes. 

Oh, your leggings are starting to become see-through...well, you’re keeping them 

If Lester and Vincent are around, Bo will proudly and possessively smack your ass (hard). 

Please wear a miniskirt and one of his flannel shirts. He will lose it! 

Loves Doggy — he can deliver smack after smack to your ass while plowing deep inside of you. 

His pace is relentless and he is fucking you for his gratification, not necessarily yours. But he will help you by rubbing your clit while slamming into you. 

And if anyone (tourists), try to overstep their boundaries, Bo will be there fist ready. 

Yes, you are a lurer, but there are boundaries that no one is allowed to cross, he has no problem enforcing those boundaries. 

Pinhead: 

This Cenobite find you visually attractive. 

Most Cenobites (from the franchise), either have a straight or round figure. So, Pinhead isn't used to seeing an hourglass or pear figure. They find it strangely charming/endearing. 

Really likes that you have more meat on your bones for one major reason: 

1.) The extra meat allows them to dig further into your skin with both their nails and their hooks.

Overall, they can be rougher with you as compared to their past victims. And they enjoy that, seeing how they associate pain and pleasure as the same thing.

Loves watching you get tangled in their chains and being forced to hang and dangle from the air. 

They will circle you like a shark in bloodied water, and they will drop to their knees. 

They will cut into your thighs and paint your skin red, while dealing into your wet folds with their cold tongue. 

They will force the chains to move your legs into a starfish position, and they will settle behind you, wrapping their arms around your bruised waist. While they piston and out of you, they will pierce the flesh of you ass and hips with their nails, drawing more blood. 

Other Cenobites will inspect you with a curious eye, and some of them might chase after you in hopes of trying you for themselves, but don't you worry! Pinhead is never far from you, and they won't let anything bad happen to you. 

They will gladly kill if it means keeping yo safe. 

I also have this weird HC that if you live in the realm of the Cenobites (Hell?), then Pinhead will have some part of you chained to him, either wrist or ankle, making it so that no one can take you from him, and prevent you from wandering too far and accidentally getting yourself into trouble, or putting yourself into a dangerous position. 

Thomas Hewitt: 

Oh, Lord have mercy on this man’s soul. You are an earth-bound angel in his eyes. 

Out of all the slashers, Thomas is the one who would like a curvier S/O the most. He think that the curvier you are, the stronger you are, thus making you a smidge less breakable in his eyes. 

We obviously know that this isn't true...but we can let Thomas dream.

And regardless, he's still going to treat you like a fine piece of China. 

This man will die if Luda Mae comments on your body, your hips specifically

Luda Mae will make a comment when you aren’t paying attention, saying something about your “child bearing” hips, and Thomas will be equally parts aroused and embarrassed. 

As we know, Thomas has one hell of breeding kink, and hearing that you have “child bearing” hips (even if you can't or don't want to have kids), he is going to drag you to the nearest room 😉

Now, if Hoyt makes a comment about your figure, and doing certain things with you, you best believe that Thomas won't stand for it. 

He won't stand up for himself, but he will defend you and your honor with his last breath. 

And while Monty won't say anything, he will look at you. If that bothers you and Tommy notices, he will shoot the older gentleman a stern look, silently telling him to cut it out. 

Money is tight for the family, and you may have a hard time fitting into the clothes of the victims, and if that’s the case, Thomas will make you something from the scrapped fabric. 

Imagine it: Tommy taking your measurements with shaky hands and gently tracing the soft curvature of your supple figure. 

BRB, need to pick up my puddled form from the ground. 

Now, in regards to sex, I see Tommy liking a Spooning position. 

He's behind you, arms wrapped around you waist and his hand cupping your breast, all while working himself in and out of you at a slow, languid pace. 

One of your legs would be lifted and resting against Tommy’s thick, tensed thigh. 

[deady-nightshade]

Dead by Daylight Masterlist

Dead by Daylight Blog Information

Content Guide (sexual content wise)

🔪 Knife: SFW

🩸 Blood: Soft NSFW (oral sex, fingering, masturbation, etc...)

💀 Skull: Hard NSFW (penetrative sex)

Killers

Ghostface (Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen)

Trapper (Evan MacMillan)

Pyramid Head

Pinhead (Hell Priest)

Wraith (Philip Ojomo)

Legion (Frank, Joey, Susie, and Julie)

Trickster (Ji-Woon Hak)

Huntress (Anna)

Artist (Carmina Mora

Blight (Talbot Grimes)

Survivors

Leon Scott Kennedy

Jake Park

Quentin Smith

David King

Felix Richter

Yoichi Asakawa

Meg Thomas

Mikaela Reid

Kate Denson

Cheryl Mason

Ada Wong

Feng Min

[deady-nightshade]

About this Blog: Dead by Daylight Edition

This is a rather dark blog. I will write about Killers and Survivors. This blog will NOT contain the following; necrophilia, incest, non-con, or minor/adult content. It WILL/MIGHT contain the following elements; kidnap, murder, blood, gore, morally grey readers, manipulative behaviors, victim mentality, torture, swearing, knives, guns, chainsaws, death, corpses, cannibalism (for writing pertaining to Leatherface), bugs (spiders included), nightmares, dub-con, human sacrifice to The Entity, etc... I will warn you of the story’s elements, like how I already do with my other works.

These are the Killers and Survivors that I feel comfortable writing for; the list will change as I become more comfortable/knowledgeable (please feel free to send requests for other characters — I will research them and get familiar with them). I will try to write the characters as close to the source material as possible, but I will add my own twists and head cannons — there will be some divergence from cannon (seeing how they will be reader inserts).

Also, feel free to send requests. When you do, please specify who you want (Killer or Survivor), the rating, Reader’s gender, and any other tidbits that you want me to include. For example, NSFW Scenario with Ghostface (Danny Johnson) becoming obsessed with F!Survivor who happens to be dating Leon. 

By default, this blog will be F!Reader inserts unless specifically requested. I have never written M x M, or F x F, but I will try my best.

Content Offered

HeadCanons (HC)

Blurbs (500 words or less.)

Scenarioas (word length ranges, but they will have a beginning, middle and an ending, with the possibility of becoming miniseries).

Content Guide (sexual content wise)

🔪 Knife: SFW

🩸 Blood: Soft NSFW (oral sex, fingering, masturbation, etc...)

💀 Skull: Hard NSFW (penetrative sex)

Killers

Ghostface (Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen)

Trapper (Evan MacMillan)

Pyramid Head

Pinhead (Hell Priest)

Wraith (Philip Ojomo)

Legion (Frank, Joey, Susie, and Julie) 

Trickster (Ji-Woon Hak)

Huntress (Anna)

Artist (Carmina Mora 

Blight (Talbot Grimes) 

Survivors 

Leon Scott Kennedy 

Jake Park

Quentin Smith 

David King 

Felix Richter

Meg Thomas

Mikaela Reid 

Kate Denson

Cheryl Mason

Ada Wong 

Feng Min

**I will not write for Michael Myers! I have too many family members named Michael, and using that name in any NSFW content gives me the heebie-jeebies. Nor will I write for Freddie Kruger.**

[deady-nightshade]

Oh, my 😍❤️

[deady-nightshade]

Finally caved…bought Dead By Daylight (Nintendo Switch), and now I need friends 😂 If you’re looking for friends on DBD, please hit me up! I’m new at this game so fair warning!

[deady-nightshade]

The Little Merman AU (Brahms Heelshire x F!Reader)

**Important Notes: Brahms is the merman and reader is the brave princess. Reader is Malcolm’s sister (via marriage). This story is a combination of Disney’s ‘The Little Mermaid’, along with Hans Christian Anderson's ‘The Little Mermaid’. I imagine the clothes they wear to look similar to that of Ariel and Eric from Disney (in terms of style). 

Description: An unwanted party ends with you, the princess, falling overboard, only to be captured by a scarred merman, who has decided that you were his. But two clever guards were able to rescue you, causing the merman, Prince Brahms to resort to magic in order to find you. But nothing is as it seems, and the humanized merman soon learns of your upcoming wedding, one that you don't want. With the threat of his princess being taken from him, Brahms has to resort to drastic means in order to keep you by his side. 

Disclaimer/Warnings: NSFW, oral sex (female receiving), virgin reader and Brahms, arranged/loveless marriage, magic, princess reader, merman Brahms, mentions of replacing son with a doll, drinking, shipwrecks, voyeurism, Brahms receives a sex education from the Kama Sutra, male masturbation, blood, murder (child and adults), possessive Brahms. King Malcolm (who happens to be your step-brother), Sister-in-Law Greta, abusive general Cole, age gap (implied, but not specified), brief domestic violence, manipulative Brahms, Reader shares a bath with Greta, talk of trying for children.  

Word Count: 11.5K

**Reader has long hair in this story. Other than that, the looks are not specified.**

**Brahms’ parents have the following names: Audrey and Edward.** 

** Fun-Fact: One of the names for sea foam is Spume. The more you know.** 

Prince Brahms swam on his back, staring up at the twinkling stars. The blue water was dyed black with the color of night, and the creamy reflection of the full moon rippled as the water shifted. The mask he normally wore was pushed to the side, allowing him to feel the cool breeze upon his scarred face. His green tail languidly traced the surface of the water and he sighed. He was bored and lonely, and those turbulent emotions caused him to sneak out of the palace. 

Everyone in the kingdom was scared of him. When they caught sight of the masked prince, the people would swim away, leaving him alone. He hated it. All because he killed his previous childhood playmates. He snorted in frustration and dipped back into the water. It wasn’t his fault that they refused to play by his rules. 

He resurfaced a few seconds later and glanced up at the moon. He was jealous of the oversized rock. No matter what face it presented, the stars never left its side. Τhat’s all Brahms wanted: Someone that would accept him for who he was, dark flaws and all, and someone would stay forever by his side. Was he asking too much? 

The waves changed direction and Brahms looked away from the moon. Something was coming. 

He slunk further into the water and watched with narrowed eyes as a large ship came into view. It was impressive. The sails were the color of clouds and the mast pierced the black sky. A large, gold flag snapped and he could make out the design of a white flower…it looked like a rose. 

Music could be heard, along with the cheers of a large crowd. Curiosity got the better of the scarred merman, and he swam closer to the boat. A few ropes hung precariously off the side of the ship and the merman leapt out of the water and grabbed ahold of them. 

He pulled himself up and sat on the polished sill of a large, circular window, and he peered up at the deck, being mindful to keep hidden within the shadows. 

Humans of all sizes, shapes and ethnicities were celebrating. Drinks were being served, food was being eaten, and a band of musicians played a cheerful tune. He watched in amazement as the men played their instruments and he couldn’t help but wonder what the instruments were called. He had never seen such peculiar things. 

His mask slide down his face and he settled around his neck. He absentmindedly took it off and set it down on the deck. He inched closer, almost daring to move out of the shadows when something big and hairy ran at him. 

Brahms jumped back and growled when he saw the grey and white haired creature staring at him. He had remembered Emily showing him a similar creature. It was a dog if he wasn’t mistaken. He hated dogs. Well, he hated all animals. 

The mutt grabbed a hold of the prince’s mask and began running away. 

“Get back here!” Brahms hissed, reaching a hand out to stop the mangy beast. But it was too late, the dog was too far from his reach. 

Anger bubbled in the prince’s chest and his mood instantly soured. Memories of Emily came to mind and the merman dug his sharp fingers into the hull of the ship, splintering the dark wood. 

She was supposed to love him, but the brat refused to follow him into the ocean. He had tried to drag her into the waters, but she had panicked and threw her lantern at him. The flames caught his face and he dragged Emily under the water. He was so angry with her that he had not realized what he did until it was too late. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her lifeless eyes staring up at him through the water. 

Brahms was pulled from his dark, spiraling thoughts by a crystal clear voice. 

“What do you have there, Max?” 

The merman snapped his head up and he froze when he saw the most beautiful woman. You.  

The mask was heavy in your hand your hand and you frowned. What was a mask doing on the ship? You ran a hand over the cheek and narrowed your brow in thought. It wasn’t made of plaster, but something else…something denser and smoother. 

“Cool mask,” Malcolm said, momentarily startling you. 

You spun on your heel and smiled at your step-brother. “The captains’s dog found it.” 

Malcolm laughed and rested his hand on your shoulder. “Come on, join the party. It’s being held in your honor after all.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t want this party.” 

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Y/N.” You looked up at you brother and noticed the solemn look on his face. “This party was made so that your engagement could be announced.” 

Your blood ran cold and you bit your lip. The only reason you agreed to this marriage was to save your kingdom from another pointless war. You didn’t love the man — you loathed him with every fiber of your being. 

He was Greta’s ex-fiancé , and he was a cruel man who loved to drink and use his hands in place of words. Greta, your lovely sister-in-law, had been lucky enough to escape his bruising clutch, but as fate would have it, you inadvertently took her place. Fate was cruel. 

“I’m still looking for a way out, Y/N.” Malcolm said in a hushed whisper. “But General Cole isn’t budging.”

“He only wants me because you took Greta from him.” 

“You don’t think that I know that?” 

A silence fell between you and the band began another song. Malcolm rubbed his jaw and sighed.  “I’m doing everything that I can, Y/N. Just wait a little longer and try to have faith in your big brother, yeah?” 

He kissed your cheek and left you to your thoughts. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and you walked to the other side of the deck. The ocean breeze ruffled your blue skirt and you leaned against the railing. The waves were beginning to pick up and you watched as the water collided against the hull. It was soothing. 

You weren’t sure when it happened, but somehow Greta ended up pulling you back into the fray of the party. Glass after glass of wine was served to you and you drank the sweet alcohol down, not sparing even one drop. Your sour mood began to brighten and you were pleasantly buzzed when Malcolm announced your engagement. The news made Greta furious and the woman chased after her husband. It still amazed you that the two of them ruled the kingdom. 

Fat raindrops fell from the sky and you turned your face upwards. Was the universe crying for you? Hot tears soon joined the raindrops and you ran towards the deck’s railing once more. Bile burned your esophagus and you panted. You didn’t want this…you didn’t want any of it. 

As the party neared the end, the coastal storm was at its peak. Everyone was resting in the cabin, but Max somehow wiggled his way back onto the deck. After securing your shawl, you slipped out of the door and chased after him. 

The wind was strong and your hair fell from its ribbon enclosure, and you watched as the blue fabric was carried away by the wind. Long locks obscured your view and you tripped over a rope, causing you to fall against the railing. Your hand slipped on the wood and you fell backwards. You screamed. 

The water was cold and it saturated your skirt, which caused the garment to act as an anchor. Your head was barely above the water and you desperately tried to undo the sash that held your skirt up. All you could see were the choppy waves and the bitter salt water filled your mouth. It was becoming too much too quickly. 

Your head felt heavy from the wine and you didn’t have the strength anymore to fight against the ocean. This was it. You were going to die. But that was just it, you didn’t want to die. Your head went under and you tried in vain to claw your way back to the surface. 

Something firm wrapped around your booted foot and you began kicking harder, determined to free yourself from what you figured was seaweed. Your lungs burned from the absence of oxygen and black dots began to cloud your eyesight. Your arms ceased to move, your hair floated upwards, and your mouth opened, allowing what little air you had left to escape. 

Consciousness began to ebb away and the ocean began to pull your body downward. A large hand wrapped itself in your hair and you felt your head being pulled back. With the last bit of strength that you had, you opened your eyes. In front of you was a man. His hazel eyes were locked onto you. Dark curls floated around him, making it look like he was wearing a dark  halo, and thick scars decorated the right side of his face. He was beautiful.

As soon as your eyes fluttered close, Brahms pulled you towards him, wrapping his arm around your waist. He flicked his tail and the two of you were propelled upwards. As soon as you broke the surface, he pushed your head to his bare chest and he slapped your back…hard. 

Water spilled from your violet tinted lips and he smiled when he felt your chest rise and fall. You were alive!

He rescued you, that meant you belonged to him! You owed your life to him, so that meant from here on out, he could do whatever he pleased with you…you were his. 

Brahms’ tail twitched in excitement and he began swimming away from the boat when he heard a man’s voice. 

“Y/n!” 

The merman glanced back and growled when he saw men jumping into the water to retrieve you. You were staying with him! 

Brahms placed you on his back and secured you with the ribbon that the wind had blown from your hair. With your arms tied around his neck, the merman took off and began attacking the men who had dared enter his domain. His nails easily sliced through their necks, and their warm blood coated his hand. They fell one by one until there was only one man left. 

He was big, burly man with a balding head and large brown eyes. His pale skin was tinted purple and his bulbous nose was beginning to drip with snot. 

“Give me the princess!” The man commanded with false bravado. 

“She’s mine!” Brahms hissed, readying his hand to strike. 

The man shook his head and glanced at you. His eyes widened and he spoke once more. “Look at her!” he pointed to your unconscious form, “She needs help. If you don’t give her over to me she will die! Do you want her to die?” 

Brahms sunk further into the water, trying his best to hide your unconscious form from the old human. He was about to argue with the man when you began to shake. Your teeth chattered loudly in his ear and he froze. Were you really sick? 

He ignored the human man and carefully reached for you. The knotted ribbon tickled his neck and he paled when he saw your face. Your cheeks were red and your lips were turning purple. 

“If you give her to me, I can assure that she will get the help that she needs.” 

“No!” 

“Please?” The man cried. 

“I said —” 

Brahms was knocked unconscious by another man, one who had slipped into the water when he had been distracted. The honey blond man took a dagger from his pocket and sliced the ribbon that was keeping you tethered to the merman. 

“I’ve got her, Herbert!” The young man called out. 

The elder gentleman, Herbert, sighed in relief. “Thank the gods.” He swam towards his coworker, a kind man named Daniel, and watched as the merman sunk to the bottom of the ocean. 

“We need to get her back onto the boat before he regains consciousness.” 

Daniel nodded in agreement. “Do you think that we tell King Malcolm what had happened?”

“No,” Herbert sighed, “it would only cause the young king to worry. And besides, it’s not like the merman can follow us on land.” 

Two weeks, that’s how long Brahms searched the ocean for you. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep, all he did was swim and swim and swim. His parents were worried, for they had never seen their son so agitated, not even after killing Emily. Their anxiety caused them to send out a handful of guards, in hopes that they would bring their son home, but they never came back… 

“We need to do something, Edward.” Queen Heelshire sighed, placing her face in her hands. 

She couldn’t stand seeing her son in so much pain. He wanted that human woman and he would not stop until he found her again. At this point, she was worried that her darling son would swim himself to death. 

“What can we do, Audrey?” the king replied. “They live in two different worlds.” 

An idea struck the queen and her head snapped up. “But what if they didn’t, Edward?”

A deep sense of foreboding overcome the sombre king. “Surely, you aren’t suggesting what I think you are suggesting.”

“I am.” 

There was a heavy silence and after a few minutes of thinking, the king hesitantly agreed. He waved his hand and a guard came to his aid. 

“How can I help you, My King?” 

“I want you to find the Sea Witch and bring her here.” 

When Brahms returned home, three days later, after being dragged against his will, by a well seasoned tracker, he was ushered into the throne room. When he entered he saw a strange a looking woman. 

She had the body of a sting ray and her skin was a pale shade of lilac. Her hair was white and her eyes were yellow. Large sea snakes swam around her, wrapping and slithering up her arm. Her thick tail was black in color and her small breasts were covered by a thing of black pearls. 

The king and queen swam towards their son and they introduced him to the peculiar woman. 

“Brahms,” Queen Heelshire said, “this is Spume, the sea witch.” 

Spume swam towards the prince and wrapped her tail around his. “Tell me, My Prince, what is that you desire?” 

“A human woman.” Brahms answered without hesitation. 

The sea witch threw back her head and cackled. “A human?! Oh, how quaint!” 

“Can you help him?” the king demanded. 

The sea witch grew quiet and tightened her grip on the prince’s emerald tail. “I can. But I must warn you, Your Highnesses, the process will be painful and it comes with great risks.” 

“What type of risks?” Queen Heelshire inquired. 

“The spell will be permeant.” Spume inched closer to the prince and gently cupped his face. “You will never be able to see your parents again. You will  breathe the air and shall you try to breathe water, you shall drown.” 

“Is that all?” Brahms asked. 

The sea witch shook her head. “Should you fail to win the affections of the princess and should she join in another in matrimony, your heart will cease to beat and you will turn to sea foam.” 

Brahms snorted. “She is mine.” 

“So cocky,” the witch muttered under her breath. “Of course, there’s also the matter of payment.” 

“Money is of no concern.” 

“It is not money that I want.” Spume said. “What I require is something that can not be bought, nor is it something that can be procured. It must be willingly given, and it is something that only you can give me.” 

“And that is?”

“Your voice.” 

“What would you want with my voice?” The prince asked with narrowed eyes. 

“What I want your voice for does not matter. Do you agree to my price?” 

The prince pushed the woman back and frowned. “How will I talk to my princess if I do not have a voice?” 

“You have your body, don’t you?” 

Brahms’ eyes widened upon hearing the witch’s reply and he covered his pink cheeks with his hands. He had every intention of bedding you, but he hadn’t thought out the details of the coupling, seeing how he wasn’t sure how human anatomy worked. 

“Do we have a deal, My Prince?” 

“Yes.”

The sea witch lurched forward and crashed her violet lips against the prince’s lightly scarred ones. Her magic poured into his mouth and she purred in delight when it settled on his voice box. When she removed her mouth from his, purple magic followed and a golden orb made its way out of the prince’s mouth. She held out her hands and his voice landed in her smooth palms. Spume brought the orb to her face and greedily swallowed it. 

The royal family watched as the golden light traveled down the sea witch’s throat, only to shrine brightly before going out. 

Spume cleared her throat and smiled. “Shall we begin?” 

A few hours later, Spume held a vial filled with red liquid, and she placed it in the prince’s hands. She turned her attention towards her pets and stroked their black and white stripped heads. 

“Bring him to the castle that stands tall by the sea. The castle with a gold flag and white rose. You know which one I’m talking about. When he is found by the humans, you may return to me.” 

She kissed their heads and the snakes began swimming away. The prince followed after her pets, but she grabbed a hold of his tail before he disappeared for good. 

Brahms opened his mouth and bubbles came out in place of words. He closed his mouth and puffed out his cheeks, just like a spoiled child. 

“Take care, My Prince. The human world is a dangerous place.” 

With that, she removed her hand from his tail fin and she watched as the lovestruck prince disappeared from sight. The sea witch touched her throat and laughed to her self. 

If only Prince Brahms knew that your fiancé was setting sail for your wedding, which was taking place in a month. 

Before Spume could leave the palace, the king and queen stopped her. Large tears were rolling down the queen’s cheeks and the king cleared his throat. 

“Is there something you can do for us to heal the hole in our hearts?” 

The sea-witch clicked her tongue in thought then nodded. “How do you feel about dolls?” 

It took a little over an hour for Brahms to reach the beach, but as soon as his hands came into contact with the golden sand, he uncorked the vial and chugged the potion in one gulp. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the pain. 

His tail was being ripped open in front of his eyes and he released a silent scream. It was agony. His body shook in pain and sweat clung to his pale brow. Where the tail was ripped in half, two legs began to materialize and he watched in awe as the scales fell away into the ocean. With one final scream, Brahms collapsed face first.

Something had happened when you had fallen into the ocean. You could remember the feeling of hands on your waist and fingers laced through your hair. There was something else, something important, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember. The doctors said it was to be expected due to the result of the sickness you came down with having been tossed into the ocean. 

Your bare feet sunk into the warm sand and you pulled the red shawl tighter. The sun was high in the sky and the salt air tickled your nose. To the right of you was your maid, Sophie. She was a middle aged spinster with grey hair and large brown eyes. 

“Your wedding dress will be done by the end of the day, Princess. I’m so excited to see you walk down the aisle in it!” 

You stopped misstep and grimaced. By the end of the month you were going to be wed to General Cole. You had done well in avoiding wedding preparations, much to your maid’s distress and the annoyance of the royal dress maker. 

“Can we talk about something else, Sophie?”

“But we still have so much to do, my lady: You still have to select a flower arrangement; finalize the menu with the chef, and not mention, you still have yet to write your vows.” 

“I don’t care either way. Pick whatever flowers you want, allow the chef to make a professional decision, and if you’re that worried about my marital vows, feel free to write them yourself.”

“Princess —” 

“I will not hear anymore on this matter! Have I made myself clear?” 

Sophie’s eyes grew wide and she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She gave you a slight nod and you continued to walk along the water’s edge. Nothing was else was said and you looked further down the beach. There, slumped in the shallows was what looked to be a person. 

Without another thought, you grabbed the hem of your dress and took off running, leaving your elderly maid to chase after you. A naked man was face down in the shallows. His face was resting on the dry sand and it was tilted to the side. Large bunches off seaweed covered his bottom and blood had stained the once golden sand a haunting shade of crimson. 

“Are you all right, sir?” you asked, rushing to his side. 

He did not answer. 

You kneeled next to the man and you gently brushed the damp curls from his face. His skin was pale, almost as if he had never spent a day in the sun, and his brows were thick. There was a gentle curve to his nose and his lips were a delicate shade of pink. He had also had a dark beard.

He was handsome.

You grabbed a hold of the man’s shoulder and used all your strength to pull him up and out of the water. The sea weed slipped off, revealing his naked bottom, and you quickly averted your eyes. First thing first, you had to get him out of the water. After that, you could address the issue surrounding his nudity. 

Your feet sunk into the sand and once you were a few feet from the crashing waves, you set him back down. You nudged his shoulder but he did not sir. With a huff, you carefully rolled him over. Your eyes roamed his body, and you began looking for any sign of injury, but you couldn’t find anything. 

His legs were covered in dark hair and you quickly glanced at his cock. It was half erect and nestled in a patch of curly dark hair. His testicles were perfectly round and they moved with every breath he took. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you covered your flushed face with the back of your hand. You were checking for injuries…nothing more…at least that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. 

You removed your red shawl and placed it over his cock, and you began eyeing his chest. Like the rest of him, it was covered in dark hair. His body was muscular but it was also lean. It was so different from the burly farmers and soldiers that you have been exposed to. 

Your eyes flittered across the man’s collarbones, up his neck, then settled on his face. The entire right side of his face was scared; his eyelid, his nose, lips, and chin, and you could even see faint scarring hidden behind his beard. 

You raised your hand and gently traced his large scar with the tip of your fingers, following it all the way to the inner most corner of his ear. 

What happened to this man? Why was he on the shore naked? Was he from your kingdom? 

No, he was not. You would have remember him while walking through the kingdom. If he wasn’t from your kingdom, then were had he come from?

The man’s eyes twitched and you moved your hand away. His eyes flew open and you stilled. They were hazel in color and they looked like green sapphire nestled in honeyed pools of amber. 

“You’re beautiful,” you said barely above a whisper. 

The words that you had spoken shook Brahms to his very core, and they caused an unfamiliar emotion to pump through his veins. 

The former merman rolled over and tackled you onto the beach. His body covered yours and you let out a squeak as his lips crashed onto yours. Your eyes grew wide in shock and embarrassment, and you tried pushing him off of you, but he would not budge. You opened your lips to protest, but was silenced when his tongue slipped into your mouth. 

You had kissed men before, but they were chaste in nature, and nothing like the one you were currently experiencing.

“Ah! There you are, Princess!” Sophie called. “Good gracious! Just what are you doing, Princess Y/N?!” 

The maid ran toward your side and pushed Brahms off of you. The man clumsily landed on his bottom and the shawl that covered what little modesty he still had, had fallen off, revealing his fully erect cock…in all its glory. 

Prince Brahms kept his eyes locked on you and Sophie pulled you back up. The elderly maid grabbed a hold of your face and inspected you with a critical eye. Your lips were swollen, eyes glazed, and you looked feverish. 

“Come, we must get you to the castle immediately!” the elder woman cried. She grabbed a hold of your hand and began dragging you towards the castle. 

You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw Brahms (though you still had yet to learn his name) following you. He was on his stomach, feet kicked out, and his finger were in the sand: he was using the earth to push himself forward. 

Your heart felt heavy and you planted your feet in the sand. “We need to help him.” You snatched your arm back from the maid and began walking towards him yet again. 

Brahms’ eyes lit up, and he held out his own hand. ‘Don’t leave me here, Y/N!’ he thought to himself. 

“We need to help him,” you repeated. “Sophie, help me bring this man back to the palace.” 

The maid shook her head and placed her hands on her plump hips. “We are not bringing a naked man back home with us, Princess. Just —” 

“Sophie, I gave you an order.” 

You gave her a heated look and held your head up high. You were the Crown Princess of this kingdom. People answered to you, not the other way around. And the only people who could overrule you were currently in the castle currently working on producing an heir. 

“Help me bring him to the castle,” you said once more. 

“Yes, Princess.” 

You reached Brahms first and he threw himself onto you once more. Only this time you were prepared for it. You faltered slightly and slowly stood up. Brahms was weak in the knees, not using them whatsoever, and you slipped his arm over your shoulder. 

Sophie grabbed the shawl from the ground and tied it around the merman’s waist, careful not to look at the juncture between his legs. Once the shawl was secured, she slipped under Brahms’ other shoulders and took the rest of his weight. 

The way back to the castle was difficult; not only were you carrying a tall, heavy man, but you also had to somehow accommodate Sophie’s hunched over stature and slow gaited walk. And it didn’t help that the man kept kissing you every chance he had. An action which only angered Sophie, which in turn caused the walk to momentarily stop. 

What should have taken fifteen minutes, ended up taking forty-five, and once you reached the west gate of the palace, you were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. 

Daniel spotted you first, and the strawberry haired guard rushed to your aid. His young face was marred in concern and his dark brows were narrowed. “Who is this, Princess?” 

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I found him passed out on the beach. I don’t think he can walk or talk.” 

The guard nodded then took Brahms from you and Sophie. He glanced down at the man that he was carrying and froze when his blue eyes bore into a pair of hazel ones. 

It was the merman that had killed his friends and held you hostage…and the one that he had knocked out cold in order to rescue you. 

Brahms gave Daniel a cold glare and dug his nails into the man’s bare arm, drawing blood. No words were needed, for his action served as a warning. ‘Speak and I will kill you.’ 

You were unaware of the silent exchange that occurred between the two men, and continued talking as if nothing happened. 

“See to it that he is given a room, and make sure to send for the royal physician.” 

The guard looked away from the humanized merman and gulped. “As you wish, Princess.” 

You gave Daniel a kind smile and began walking away, but was stopped when Brahms grabbed a hold of your wrist. 

He lifted his head and you heard Daniel gasp behind you. You ignored the guard and kept your eyes locked on the man. “I have to get ready for dinner. I’ll see you later, okay?” 

Brahms opened his mouth and tried to speak, but no voice came out. ‘Don’t leave me! Let me follow you!’ that’s what he had wanted to say. 

“Ah, there you are, Y/N!” Malcolm called, catching your attention. 

You looked over your shoulder and saw your brother. His hair was wet and he was dressed in black dress pants, a white button up shirt, and he wore black boots. His eyes widened when he saw the bearded man holding your wrist. 

“Y/N, who’s this?”  

Dinner was the definition of awkward; Malcolm and Greta couldn’t stop looking at the man you rescued, and the man you rescued wouldn’t stop staring at you. 

You tried your best to ignore his heated gaze, but it was no use. With a sigh, you lowered your glass filled with wine and met his eyes. His food had long been devoured; as soon as it had been placed in front of him, he inhaled it. 

“What’s your name?” you asked him, catching everyone’s attention.

Greta lowered her spoon and Malcolm looked up from his pork tenderloin. They had asked the merman that question dozens of times today, but he did not answer. 

He said nothing and you leaned forward, resting your arms on the table. “Can you write?” 

Brahms nodded. 

You smiled and Hans, one of the butlers, placed a notepad and pencil on the table. Everyone watched with berated breath as the merman took the pencil in hand, and it was silent as he wrote his name. 

When he was done, the butler took the notebook and handed it to you. You looked it over and frowned. The man wrote in an alphabet that was long forgotten. You only knew it because your tutor at the time demanded that you learned it. It was old, ancient, and dead language. It wasn’t common knowledge, so how did this mute man know it? 

You lowered the paper and tapped the pencil against the table. You could translate it, it would just take you a few minutes seeing how you hadn’t practiced that language since you were a pre-teen. 

B-R-A-H-M-S. That was the name that the ancient letters spelled. 

“Brahms.” 

His name rolled of your tongue and the man in front of you, Brahms, nodded. 

Your brother and sister-in-law then began asking him question after question, but he did not answer any of them. Greta kicked you under the table and motioned for you to ask another question, seeing how he answered your previous one. 

“Brahms,” you called, catching the man’s attention, “were are you from?” 

He jotted down his answer and handed the pad of paper towards you. ‘Somewhere far away. A place that I can no longer return to.’

Malcolm frowned and stuffed another piece of meat into his mouth. He wasn’t sure what to make of Brahms, but he had been there when the doctor visited him. And during that visit, the doctor had announced that Brahms had been a lost at sea for weeks, and that it was a miracle in itself that he survived being out in the water for that long. 

Dinner came to an end and Hans, the balding butler, practically carried Brahms back to his room. Much to the merman’s annoyance. 

Days passed and you found yourself spending more time with Brahms. He was a good distraction from your upcoming wedding, and you had to admit, he was handsome and mysterious…two qualities that you found irresistible. And it seemed that he was just as fond of you. 

During the mornings, you would meet him in the library and teach him the alphabet that was being used this day and age. He picked it up quickly, and soon enough, he was writing with it, which allowed others to communicate with him. But to your surprise, he didn’t talk to them, and if he did, it was quick, one-worded answers. It seemed that he did not take joy or pleasure in talking to people who were not you. 

Two weeks passed and by that time, Brahms was walking. The voice-less man followed you everywhere you went; the gardens, the kitchen, the throne room, and he had even tried to sneak into the bathroom while you bathed. Sophie had been furious with the former merman. 

Then one night, during a thunderstorm, unbeknownst to you, Brahms snuck into your room. 

You woke when you felt the bed dip, and you opened your mouth to scream when you saw a dark silhouette hovering above you. A large, warm hand clamped around your mouth, stopping the scream before it could leave your throat. Lightning and thunder crashed, and a few slivers of neon blue entered through the gaps of the curtains, illuminating the silhouette. 

You placed your hand over Brahms’ and promptly removed it from your mouth. “What are you doing here?!” you hissed. 

Brahms plopped on top of you pressed his face against your unbound chest. You laid there frozen, unsure what to do, when another crash of thunder sounded. Brahms’ body shook and he pressed his face harder against your chest. 

Realization dawned upon you and the anger you felt towards your nightly visitor vanished, leaving concern in its wake. You gently wrapped your arms around the merman’s back and rested your chin on the crown of his curled head. 

“Are you scared of thunder and lightning?” you asked in a soft voice. 

Brahms nodded, deciding to use your compassion against you if it meant getting what he wanted. 

You hummed in thought and then pulled away. You lifted the numerous sheets and gently tapped on the exposed mattress. Brahms wasted no time and dove in. And before the blankets could cover him, he was on you once again. 

He moved your legs apart and settled in the warm space. He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his face on the delicate swell of your breasts, using them as a makeshift pillow. The position was intimate, and immense guilt and shame washed over you. 

Brahms had come to you for support, and here you were, pinned underneath him, thinking of all the images that you had seen in a book that the noble women of the court were particularly fond of, the Kama Sutra. 

You imagined Brahms inside of you, and you shivered. You wanted him to strip you of your virginity, and more importantly, you wanted him…you wanted to be his. Ugh! Nothing made sense! All you knew was that you needed like him like a fish needed water. Every single cell inside of you yearned for this strange, hypnotic man. 

Yet you knew that nothing could come of it — you were to be married in two weeks. 

Unshed tears stung your eyes and you entwined your arms around Brahms’ back once more. You wanted this man, not your fiancé, and you for a moment, however brief it was, you had thought about rejecting General Cole, even if it meant sending thousands of men to their deaths in war. 

Sleep did not come easy for you that night, but when it did, you were plagued with cruel dreams. You and Brahms had been married and were living a happy life within the confines of the castle. You spent every morning and night in one another’s arms, and you had tried position after position from that exotic book, only to succumb to the throes of ecstasy. It was beautiful, and you had wished that you would never wake up. But alas, you did.  

“Good morning, Princess Y/N!” Sophie called, rudely waking you. 

Brahms was still cocooned around you. He laid on his side, arm wrapped around your waist, and his head was resting on your left shoulder. His eyes  began to flutter open and he smiled when he saw you looking at him, causing your heart to skip a beat. 

The curtains ruffled and bright sunlight poured into the room and Sophie’s loud scream pierced the air. Guards ran into your room and they were being led by Daniel and Herbert, who upon seeing the man in your bed, faltered and exchanged an uneasy look. 

Then, to make matters worse, Greta and Malcolm stormed their way into the bedchamber. Greta held her robe closed and Malcolm was running a hand through his sleep tousled hair. 

He yawned and looked around the room, then choked. “What the hell is going on here?!”

Malcolm stared at Herbert and Daniel, not sure what to make of the information that they had just shared. It had to have been a joke, some sick, elaborate joke. He gave his wife a quick glance and noted her expression of confusion and disbelief. It seemed that they were on the same page. 

“Who put you up to this, Herbert? Was it one of the chefs?” Malcolm laughed, trying his best to act aloof. 

The guards stood there silent. 

Anxiety bubbled within the king’s chest, and he began tapping his foot in an irate manner. He looked from Herbert to Daniel, then from Daniel to Herbert, trying his hardest to break them. But no matter how hard he pushed, they did not recant their strange tale. 

Not only had they told of him what had actually transpired in the ocean when they rescued you, but Herbert then went on to connect Brahms to the drowning of Emily; a girl who had drowned a few years before he was born.

“Emily was killed by a drunkard.” Malcolm recanted, remembering the story that he had heard growing up. 

Herbert took a step forward and met the king’s eyes. “No, she wasn’t,” he paused then continued, “she was killed by a merman. I saw it with my own two eyes, sire. He tried to drag her into the water and she flung her lantern at him, causing his face to catch fire. When I alerted the other guards, she had already been dragged into the water. By the time we reached her, she was dead.” 

“But that’s —”

Herbert removed a leather bound book from his pocket and tossed it to Malcolm. The king caught it with clumsy fingers and the older guard gave him a sombre look. 

“Perhaps this will change you mind.” 

The guards left the throne room and returned to their assigned stations, leaving Malcolm with Greta. The queen took her husband’s hand in hers and placed a tender kiss on the back of it. 

“Read it. I’ll go check on Y/N.” 

The queen left the throne room and began tracking you down. She asked a few maids and they told her that you were in the bath. The queen muttered her thanks and decided the bath was a perfect place to have a much needed conversation — you couldn’t run away from her there. 

With head held high, Greta took off and mentally rehearsed what she was going to say to you. 

You rested the top half of your body on the ledge of the bathtub, propping your arms on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, and rested your head on the inner portion of your crossed arms. Your hair trailed down your back and from the corner of your eye you could see the floating strands being lulled by the hot water that the ivory spout carried. 

A sigh escaped your lips and you turned your head in the other direction, allowing you you see the large stained-glass window. You were thinking of everything and nothing, and your mind was going in circles. It was exhausting. 

The door to the bathroom open and you groaned. “Go away, Sophie!”

You were not in the mood for another lecture regarding your improper behavior with Brahms, who was not your fiancé. The scandal. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not Sophie.” Greta said with a light chuckle. 

You picked your head up and slowly sunk into the bathwater. You avoided her blue gaze and turned around, giving your sister-in-law privacy to undress. A few seconds later, you heard her enter the bath, and once settled, you turned back around. 

“Do you like him?” Greta asked point blank. 

Your small, polite smile fell, and Greta’s face grew red in embarkment; she had forgotten to use the monologue that she had practiced while she was busing tracking you down. 

You liked Brahms. Anyone with eyes could see that. When you saw him, your eyes would light up, and when he grabbed your wrist in an attempt to keep you at his side, a bashful yet happy look would cross your pretty face. And when you spent time with him, your heart would race and you were truly and genuinely happy. The thought of not seeing him, or not being near him, caused you a pain that you had never experienced before. It was frightening. 

Greta eyes fell and she lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“What are you sorry about?” you sneered, standing up and moving towards the bath’s steps. 

Your body shook in anger and hot, fat tears fell from your eyes. You were in such a hurry to leave the bathroom, that you didn’t see the small puddle of spilt bath oil. When your foot caught it, you fell flat on your butt and that had been the last straw. 

You had tried so hard to keep everything contained. You didn’t want Malcolm to see you like this, but you especially didn’t want Greta to see you like this. She had been lucky — she was able to escape Cole, and her escape brought her to your kingdom, to your brother, to her happily ever after, but her happily every after had in essence cost you yours. And at this  particular moment, you hated her (even though you would never say that aloud). 

Loud, deafening sobs spilled from your trembling body, and Greta wrapped her towel clad body around yours. 

“I don’t want to marry Cole!” you screamed. “I don’t want this! I hate him!” 

“I know,” Greta cried. “And I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The wall directly in front of you shook violently, causing the oil painting to crash against the floor, but you didn’t care and neither did Greta.

Married! You were getting married! And you were getting married to someone other than him! 

Brahms stormed out of his hiding space behind the wall, and he flew into the closest room in a blind rage — the library.  

All he could see was white and a tornado of destruction surrounded him; crystal lamps were thrown at the wall, sending shards of glass everywhere; books were thrown, ripped and some were tossed into the burning fire; his fists cracked the tables and chairs, and he pushed the heavy book cases over, causing the wooden structures to fall like dominos. 

The door to the library opened, revealing Daniel’s wide eyed stare. The merman growled and lunged forward, intent on killing the meddling human. Daniel, who was terrified for his life (and rightly so), immediately slammed the door shut, causing Brahms to run face first into the unyielding structure, prompting the merman to fall down. 

He opened his mouth and released one silent scream after another, not stopping until he grew exhausted. Sweat clung to his brow his throat was irritated. If he could speak, his voice would have been shot and it would have been deeper and more gravely than normal. 

Brahms slunk to the floor and he took in all the destruction that he had caused. It looked like a waterless tsunami laid waste to the room. 

Make no mistake, the merman was still angry — enraged even, but he had no more energy to exert. He was exhausted. Not to mention, he was still getting used to living on land, which was proving to be a challenge in itself.  Now, he had to deal with the knowledge that you, his beloved princess, was getting married to another man. It was too much. 

His eyes landed on a half torn page, one which showed a man and a woman engaging in an act that the merman had never seen before. The man was resting on his knees and the naked woman was laying on her stomach with her legs wrapped around his waist, and connecting the two of them was an engorged appendage that originated the man’s lower pelvic. To say Brahms was intrigued was an understatement. 

Anger still flowed through his veins, but curiosity clouded his mind, and the merman began searching the devastated library in hopes of find the book that the page belonged to. After hours of searching, he found the book lodged between a shattered bookcase and the tattered cavas of an oil paining. The book was titled 'Kama Sutra’.  

Brahms snuck the hardcover book under his shirt and made his way out of the library, glaring at Daniel who stood guard across the hallway. He quickly made his way to his room and once in, he locked the door behind him and plopped onto his large, freshly made bed, curtesy of the butler named Hans. 

He cracked open the book and the scent of dried ink and crisp pages evaded his senses. He read page after page, chapter after chapter, and ignored the servants that were sent his way to inform him that dinner was ready. He simply ignored them and continued reading. And when he stumbled upon the erotic illustrations, he stopped and stared. 

He made note of the positions that the couples were in, the way that the bodies of the men and women perfectly fit within one another, and he felt his cock (for he had just learned the proper term for the appendage that hung between his legs) begin to stir, and he closed the book. 

Phrases and sentences from the Kama Sutra swirled in his mind, and when he closed his eyes, the images that he had studied changed shape. Instead of nameless couples, he imagined that it was you and him. 

Brahms rolled over so that he was laying on his back and he made quick work of removing his clothes. When his hand brushed over his weeping cock, he threw his head back and moaned without restraint. He quickly lost himself to the new and breathtaking sensation and it wasn’t long before he reached the height of ecstasy. 

He silently cried your name and and his white seed spilled from his pulsating cock, painting his tense abdomen white. He continued to rub himself, prolonging the ecstasy, but hissed when he the pleasure started to become painful, prompting him to stop his ministrations. 

His sweat dewed chest rose and fell in an erratic manner, and he gingerly ran his fingers against the pool of semen that covered his lower torso. It was warm, thick and unlike anything he had ever seen before. The reproductive systems of humans was unlike anything he had imagined. 

Thud! 

The book fell from the bed and he glanced down. It had opened to another image, only this time, the woman was on top of the man. He immediately thought of you sitting on top of him, your body naked and eyes hazed with lust. His cock twitched back to life and the events of today slammed into him. You were getting married and you would be acting out these illustrations with your soon to be husband. 

Brahms growled and ripped a pillow in half, sending feathers flying everywhere. You were his and no one was going to take you from him. No one. 

It was the eve to your wedding and you found yourself sitting across from your fiancé. Cole was on his eighth glass of wine and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

The table was uncharacteristically quiet, and you kept sneaking glances at Brahms. You haven’t spoken to him in over a week and the distance that had been put in place by your brother, and enforced by Sophie, Hans, Daniel and Herbert. 

You hated being away from Brahms. It felt like there was a piece of you missing when you were away from him. And the only time you were permitted to see him was during meals. It wasn’t enough for you. 

Your eyes met Brahms’ heated hazel gaze from across the table and you found yourself being inexplicably drawn to the scarred man. The food in front of you was all but forgotten and you gave him a genuine smile. 

Brahms leaned into the table and your body subconsciously followed his lead. The two of you were like magnets: When one of you moved, the other followed. It was like magic. And it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room. 

Cole’s eyes darted from you to Brahms, and the man took another long swig of his wine, finishing off his glass. 

“Who’s this?” he demanded, pointing a finger at Brahms. 

“That’s Brahms.” Malcolm answered without missing a beat. 

Cole huffed. “Who is he?” he asked once more, this time more aggressively. 

Greta rolled her blue eyes and took a sip of her tea. “Y/N found Brahms washed up on the beach. He’s been staying with us while he recovers.”

“He looks fine to me.” Cole sneered. 

Brahms’ nails bit through the table and a murderous aura radiated from him. Greta scooted closer to Malcolm, and the king snapped his head towards Daniel and Herbert, who were silently telling him, ‘told you so’, and you reached out and gently rested your hand on top of his. 

He relaxed under your touch and Cole abruptly stood from the table, causing his chair to fall backward and land with obnoxious, resounding boom. 

Cole made his way towards you and roughly grabbed your shoulder, digging the meat of his fingers into the distal end of your collarbone. You winced in pain and the foreign general turned his angered gaze to Malcolm.

“I wish to speak to my fiancée in private.” 

He pulled you out of your seat and dragged you towards the door. Daniel and Herbert moved to follow you, but they were stopped by Cole. 

“Alone.”

The two guards looked at Malcolm, and the king frowned. “Don’t you think that it is improper to speak to woman without a guardian?” 

“Please,” Cole snorted, “by this time tomorrow you sister will be under me.” 

Anger swelled in your chest and you ripped your arm from Cole’s. The general just shook his head and wrapped his arm around your waist, and he proceeded to drag you out of the room. 

The two of you walked in silence until you reached a balcony that overlooked the ocean, and when the door shut, the general pushed you away from him. Not expecting that, you tripped over your feet and landed roughly on your knees and outstretched hands. 

Cole’s hand shot out and he roughly grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at him. Every muscle in his burly body was tense, and his nostrils flared. He was angry. 

“Have you lain with him?” He demanded in a slurred manner. 

You met his heated gaze head on and sneered. “No,” you replied. 

Cole searched your face and frowned. “I don’t believe you.”

Slap! 

Your head snapped to the side and hot, searing pain blossomed in your cheek where his open palm had met your skin. 

“You’re mine, Princess. That freak might have had you, but it’s me you belong to, remember that.” 

Unshed tears kissed the outer corner of your eye and you retaliated by biting down on the hand closest to your face. Cole hissed in pain and struck you again, this time with his non-dominant hand, and he struck the top of your head with a closed fist, effectively knocking you unconscious. 

Your body slumped forward and Cole removed his hand from your slack mouth. No sooner had his hand been freed, had he been tackled to the ground. Large, warm hands wrapped around his thick neck and when he opened his eyes, he found himself staring into a pair of narrowed hazel ones. 

Brahms was on top of him, choking him. 

Cole swung his heavy fists in the air, determined to strike Brahms, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t land a single hit on the man, for he had drunk too much: The alcohol had numbed his senses, slowing his reflexes, and skewing his depth perception. 

With every failed hit, Brahms tightened his grip. Life slipped from Cole’s eyes, leaving his orbs hollow, and when the foreign general stopped moving, Brahms removed his hands and stood up. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, he picked up the body and carried it to the edge of the balcony. 

Below them stood sharp, jagged rocks, and the ocean slammed against them, sending ocean mist high in the air. That would do. Without another thought, Brahms pushed the man over the railing and watched in sick enjoyment as Cole’s body entered its shallow, watery grave. 

Brahms turned on his heel and quickly ran to your side. Your lips were pulled back in a tight grimace and he stilled when he saw your right cheek begin to swell. He had seen what Cole had done to you, and before he knew it, he had ran out of the shadows and killed him. The merman was just glad that you did not see what had happened.

Without further thought, the merman picked you up in his arms and cradled you close to his chest. He walked confidently into the castle and ignored the worried whispers that the staff muttered to one another. And within a matter of minutes, he had reentered the dinning room, where Malcolm and Greta were still occupying, 

Greta looked up first, and when she saw Brahms carrying your unconscious body, she jostled upright and ran towards you. 

“What happened to her?!” the queen demanded. “Her cheek, it is swollen!” Realization dawned upon her and she took a step back. “Did General Cole do this to her?” 

Brahms nodded. 

Malcolm rushed your side and motioned for Herbert to approach. The elder guard stopped in front of the merman, and he tried taking you from him, but Brahms would not let you go. It was just like what had transpired in the ocean not too long ago. 

“She needs to be seen by a doctor,” Herbert whispered just loud enough for Brahms to hear, but low enough so no one else could. “As soon as the doctor clears her, I will bring you to her. You have my word.” 

Brahms wanted to protest, but was stopped when Malcolm spoke. “I would like to speak to you Brahms regarding my sister. Please follow me.” 

Greta helped Herbert remove you from the merman’s arms, and she cried as she tailed after the elder man. 

Malcolm left the room and Brahms reluctantly followed after him. They reached a small study, and once inside the room, Malcolm sat down and poured himself a small glass of scotch. 

“We need to talk, Brahms, and we need to talk about everything.” 

You stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way you looked in your wedding dress. 

The neckline was low, revealing your collarbone and the tops of your breasts, and the bodice was lined in a wide array of freshwater pearls. Additional pearls were carefully strung together, and they formed a sort of cap sleeve, and they felt cool against your bare skin. The skirt of the dress hung beautifully from your body and the silk material flowed like the delicate waves of the calm ocean that you were currently sailing on. 

The door to the room opened and Malcolm stepped in. He was dressed in grey and gold, and his hair was smoothed back. Silver cuffs and buttons gleamed under the rays of the setting sun, and he the hesitant smile that he wore turned into a genuine one upon seeing you. 

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” 

“I feel beautiful,” you replied. 

Malcolm stood at the doorway and motioned towards his pocket watch. “It’s almost time.” 

You backed away from the mirror and grabbed the bouquet of white roses. With flowers in hand, you reached your brother. He held out his arm and you looped yours through it. 

He led you out of the room, through the cabin, and up the dock. Everyone stood when they caught sight of you, and the harpist began playing. With every cord she struck, you took a step closer towards your future. 

Brahms watched you with the intensity of a starved man. Your body vibrated and a large smile spread across your face. When you reached the end of the aisle, Malcolm kissed your cheek and turned to Brahms. He took a step closer and whispered something into your fiancé’s ear: ‘Remember your promise: No harm will come to my sister.’ 

Brahms nodded and when Malcolm stepped back, the merman pulled you towards him. The magistrate cleared his throat and the ceremony began. 

While the magistrate spoke, you glanced at Brahms from the corner of your eye. He too wore a large, blinding smile. 

You were happy, and you couldn’t help but think about the events that had transpired a little over a week ago.

When you had awoke from the strike that Cole delivered, you had found yourself back in your room with Brahms asleep beside you on the bed. Malcolm sat on the chair to your right, and he was the one to break the wondrous news to you: Cole was dead. He had fallen, hit his head on the balcony’s rail, and fell to his death. 

It seemed too good to be true, but you didn’t care. You were free! With Cole’s death, there was no arranged marriage. And seeing how his death was an accident, the opposing kingdom could not attack without losing their supporters, which would leave their kingdom in financial ruin. 

And it was then that Malcolm handed you the old, leathern-bound journal that his father had written in, years ago before Malcolm was even born. He kissed your forehead and left you alone (Brahms was still fast asleep beside you). 

You had read the entirety of the notebook within the span of two hours, and during that time, you couldn’t help but glance at the slumbering man that clung to you. Somewhere deep inside you, you knew that Brahms had been the merman that killed Emily, but for some strange reason, you weren’t afraid of him. 

Malcolm returned shortly after you read your step-father’s journal, and by that time, Brahms was awake. He was laying between your legs, head resting on your unbound chest, and a lazy smile on his face. 

It was then that your brother told you about the events that transpired when you had fallen into the ocean all those weeks ago. He also told you that it was Brahms that saved you from Cole, who in turned killed the vile general. 

Brahms nodded here and there, confirming the story, and he had tightened his grip on you. He was afraid that you would push him away when you knew of who and what he was, but to his delight, you only held him tighter. You loved him. 

“And do you, Princess Y/N, take Brahms as your lawfully wedded husband?” The magistrate asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“I do.” 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Brahms, you may kiss your bride.” 

The former merman wasted no time. He cupped your cheeks with his hands and placed his lips over yours. You smiled against his lips and Brahms pulled you close, pressing your body against his. 

When you pulled back, the crowd cheered. 

By the time the moon was high in sky, the celebration came to an end. You and Brahms hurried to your wedding suite. No sooner had the door shut behind you, your husband tackled you onto the bed and covered your skin in kisses. 

Your hands wounded in his thick, curly locks, and you sighed as he began sucking on the column of your neck. Brahms moved his hips, pressing his erection against your center, and you gasped. 

A soft groan fell from Brahms and he hurriedly removed your dress, not caring that the string of pearls around your shoulders broke. He needed you, and you needed him. Neither one of you could wait anymore. 

His hands wandered the expanse of your naked body and he whimpered at the beautiful sight. Nothing could have prepared him for this. You were more beautiful that he dared to imagine, and you were his, just as he was yours. 

Brahms opened your legs, revealing your glistening sex, and he lowered his head. He stopped when he reached your hooded bundle of nerves and he pressed his tongue on it. 

Your body jolted back and you cried out loudly. Brahms settled further into the bed and began exploring you with his tongue and fingers. No inch of skin was spared, and with every passing second, you became more and more undone. 

Brahms slipped his tongue inside of your sex, earning him a breathless gasp. His nose brushed against your clitoris and your legs tightened against the side of his head. You laced your fingers through his hair and moaned in pleasure. With every thrust of his tongue and jostle against your clit, you could feel an unfamiliar knot forming within your lower abdomen. Your body was beginning to grow taut and your breathing became labored. Brahms’ tongue entered your core once more, reaching deeper than before, and something inside of you snapped. 

Your back arched and a white, blinding pleasure overtook you. Every single nerve came to life and your textured walls clamped around your husband’s tongue, and something wet trickled out of you. 

Brahms swallowed your sweet nectar and you collapsed back onto the feathered bed. Your legs shook in the aftermath of your orgasm and you chest heaved. 

The former merman removed his clothes, living him naked, and you greedily drunk in the sight before you with hooded eyes. He was beautiful. You had often thought about his naked form when you found him on the beach, but now that he was on top of you, between your legs, you couldn’t help but shudder. 

His cock stood proud and his testicles were heavy with seed. Fat drops of pre-cum trickled from his weeping slit. Thick veins decorated the underside of his member, and it was flushed a brilliant pink color. It was large and you whined when you thought about him entering you. 

“Please,” you panted, “I want you inside me.” 

Those six words undid what little composure Brahms still had left, and without warning, he thrusted inside you, breaking the thin tissue that was nestled inside of you. A cry of pain and pleasure fell from your lips, and your husband rested his forehead against yours. 

His lips moved and you read the silent words. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I will.’ 

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, and you peppered kisses along his scarred cheek. “I love you, Brahms,” you moaned. 

His thrust faltered  upon your heartfelt confession, and the merman nuzzled against your neck, placing tender kisses here and there, then he proceeded at a faster pace.  

The two of you quickly found a rhythm, and with every thrust, the two of you became closer to your impending peaks. Beads of sweat collected on your chests, and after a particularly deep thrust, your nails dug into his back. 

Brahms hissed and pressed his cock against your cervix, sending you over the edge. The walls of your sex clamped down hard around him, and the textured tissue squeezed his cock in a rhythmic pattern. 

You clung to him with all your might as your soul momentarily left your body, and you cried your husband’s name. 

Your pleasured cry of his name, and the squeezing of your walls against his cock became too much, and Brahms came with a silent cry. His thick seed shot out and you gasped at the feeling of being filled with your husband’s essence. 

Brahms collapsed on top of you, his cock still inside of you, keeping you connected and his seed trapped within you. You ran your hands up and down his back, carefully tracing the red marks you left on his creamy, freckled skin. 

Your husband hummed and licked the small drops of sweat from your breasts. He traced his tongue over your nipple and you gasped when he took the erect bead in his mouth. He suckled on it and looked up at you through lidded eyes. 

He then flipped you over, not once removing his still erect cock from your semen filled center, and you balanced yourself on him by placing your hands on his curl dampened chest. 

He moved beneath you and placed his hands on your fleshy hips. You smiled down at your husband and began riding him, determined to make the both of you ascend to the stars once more.  

Brahms watched you sleep beside him, and he gently ran the tip of his fingers up and down your bare back. Your neck, chest and breasts were covered in dark love bites, and your combined fluids painted the inside of your thighs, with most of his cum nestled deep within you. 

For once in his life, he felt happy. 

“Oh, sweet Prince.” A familiar voice called out. 

Brahms slowly and carefully climbed out of the bed, and wrapped a blanket around his naked waist. His bare feet carried him to the modestly sized balcony that was connected to the suite, and once he reached the railing, he glanced down. 

Spume, the sea witch, was staring up at him with glowing golden eyes. She titled her head to the side and smiled. “The waves spoke of a beautiful wedding between a prince of the sea and a princess of land. I just had to see for myself.” 

The former merman stared at the witch in indifference, causing the sea witch to laugh. She moved her hand and a large column of sea water propelled her into the air, towards Brahms. 

Spume wrapped one arm around his head, allowing their lips to meet, and with her dominant hand, she opened his mouth. Purple magic swirled around his head, and something warm and orb-like entered his mouth. Once the orb rested on his tongue, Spume quickly pulled away. 

“Swallow, Your Majesty.” 

Not knowing what else to do, Brahms did as instructed. Something heavy settled in the center of his throat and he rubbed the spot that glowed golden. 

“A wedding gift. Enjoy your new life, Prince Brahms.” 

And with that, Spume returned back to the ocean and disappeared beneath the waves. 

Brahms took a step back and mumbled, “What was that?”

His eyes widened and he tightened the grip around his neck. He had his voice back!

Brahms ran back into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed, starting you awake. You noticed Brahms’ excited expression and smiled tiredly. 

“Darling, are you—”

“I love you!” Brahms cried, crashing his lips to yours once more. 

And the two of you lived happily ever after.  

[deady-nightshade]

Slashers’ Ideal Partner’s Personality HC 🔪

Ever wondered what type of person our slashers would look for in a relationship? Well, I have! And after much thought and deliberation, I believe that I have cracked the code! 

Slashers included: Asa Emory, Jesse Cromeans, Brahms Heelshire, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Pinhead (Hell Priest), Thomas Hewitt. 

Warnings/Disclaimers: Mentions of abuse (emotional, mental, physical), scars, masks, fights/arguements, murder, some swearing. 

**I used ‘they/them’ pronouns for Pinhead. I have this weird HC that the cenobites can change gender, or view themselves as genderless**

Asa Emory & Jesse Cromeans would need someone that is:

Independent

They need to have their own hobbies

Their own careers 

And they cannot be clingy!

Strong personality (not a Mary Sue or doormat)

What do their partners stand for? What are they willing to do if shit hits the fan? 

They need to fight for whatever it is they want. They do not want a passive partner. 

They need someone with fire, spunk and bite. 

Mature, cool-even tempered, but passionate 

These two men can handle the occasional emotional outbursts, but if their partners scream and yell during arguments, they will not last long. 

They need someone who will sit them down and talk to them — not throw a temper tantrum. 

And they need someone who loves with all their heart, regardless of what other people may say about them. 

Loyal

Someone who knows what they want/need and can easily communicate it

Neither one of them has the patience to entertain someone who is wishy-washy and unsure of themselves. 

Someone who can see through bullshit and not be manipulated

They need to know that their S/O can take care of themselves, and that if they were to ever run into one of their victims (who wanted to do you harm), that they would be able to tell immediately. 

They don't want you to fall for their enemies lies (Arkin, Preston, cops/FBI, etc...)

They want and need a partner in all senses and they will not settle for less. 

Brahms Heelshire would need someone that is:

Loving and warm

Emotionally mature

He has a hard processing emotions and will need your help to sort things out

He will also throw temper tantrums, so he needs someone to approach him with a calm and understanding attitude, not someone who will make things worse by hyping him up. 

Someone nurturing but also firm 

Overall, he would need someone that exudes a maternal aura

Loyal

S/O needs to have the patience of a saint

Everything is new to him and we can’t forget about the unsolved trauma that he has endured (killing Emily, being forced to hide his face with a mask, living in walls, and not to mention, watching his parents love a doll instead of him). 

Not to mention he is clingy, so their S/O would have to be handle that on top of everything. 

 Someone just as possessive as him 

He wants to be your world and will not accept anything less. 

Bo Sinclair would need someone that is:

Confident 

They can’t get jealous — Bo flirts to get victims, he doesn’t have the time to worry whether or not his flirting is going to offend you. And coming home to a jealous S/O after a busy day of hunting down tourists, is the last thing that he wants. 

Loyal

Responsible but knows when to cut loose and have fun

Someone who is passionate but can calm him down

We all know he has anger issues, so his S/O needs to be able to calm him down, and they need to be able to do it quickly. 

But on the flips, he wants to see his S/O get excited, to cheer, to love something so intensely that they loose track of time. He needs his partner to have an inner fire. 

Also needs a partner that will accept him for him and doesn’t try to change him.

He had enough of that with his mother and father, he doesn’t need or deserve it from his S/O

His partner also needs to be forward and direct

They need to be able to stand up for themselves and speak their mind.

Do not beat around the bush with this man, he needs to be told things upfront, unless its flirting...that’s a whole other topic.

He also needs someone who will hold him accountable for his actions.

Vincent Sinclair  would need someone that is:

Kind

Patient

Like Brahms, Vincent is new to relationships, but unlike Brahms, Vincent needs more time to get used to things, especially when it comes to removing his mask and opening himself up emotionally. 

Loving

Accepting

Gentle

They need to have a gentle tone of voice, pick words that don’t carry a bite to them, and he needs them to have a gentle/loving touch. 

Protective

He needs someone who will have his back 

If Bo is spewing hateful words, he needs a partner that will stand up for him and throw down with Bo if needed (that’s the only time he will appreciate his S/O being aggressive). 

Someone level headed but feels emotions strongly

He doesn’t like yelling, so if he were to ever have an argument or disagreement with his partner, he would need them to be calm and sit him down so that they could talk about whatever the issue is and work it out. 

And ideally, someone with an artistic/creative streak

Doesn't matter what type of art they do: writing, drawing, painting, ceramics, playing instrument, writing/composing songs, flower arranging...he doesn't care, he just wants to be able to make things with his partner. 

Pinhead (Hell Priest) would need someone that is:

Curious and willing to try new things

Pinhead is a timeless being, and they have so much knowledge that they can share, but they want a partner that is eager to learn and try new things.

On the flip side, they also want to try new things, and they want to try them with their S/O.

Independent

Own job, hobbies, friends, etc. Their S/O needs to be their own person.

Strong morals/values/will

Their partner needs to know themselves first and foremost

As a Cenobite, they have seen and heard things that no mortal should, and if their partner was to accidentally see or hear something that they shouldn’t have, Pinhead needs to know that their S/O is strong enough to not allow whatever it was to change them. 

Clear and direct communicator

They are very direct and they need a partner that won't get offended with their direct and sometimes crass nature.

They are upfront with their partner and they expect the same thing from their partner. 

Someone who knows what they want/need

Pinhead is a busy cenobite — they don't have time to waste, and they will not appreciate having to wait for their partner to make up their mind or not know what they want. 

Their partner needs to feel emotions deeply and be able to express them in a healthy manner 

Pinhead has the emotional depth of a kiddie pool, but they like having a partner that feels things so deeply and intimately. It is refreshing to them, and it piques their curiosity. 

But because they don't understand emotions, they need someone who can express what they are feeling in a clear and easy to understand manner. 

Thomas Hewitt would need someone that is:

Compassionate

Thomas has been through a lot, and he needs someone to see that. 

His partner needs see things through his eyes and understand where is coming from

He also needs someone that is nonjudgmental and accepting of any and all things (with regards to Thomas and who he is).

Passionate

Needs someone who feels things deeply and expresses those feelings freely. 

Likes for his S/O to wear their heart on their sleeve 

Loyal

Patient

Like Vincent, Thomas has never been in a relationship before, which worries him. Is he being a good partner? Is he doing what he is supposed to do? 

His S/O is going to have to be patient with him and accept what Thomas gives and not push for more

Protective/Defensive

He has been bullied and harassed all his life, and he still is by people within the town and even by Hoyt. And Thomas doesn’t do anything (until he snaps and kills his harasser), so he needs someone that will stand up for him.

His S/O needs to stand strong and tall (regardless of their size), and chew people out for their inexcusable behavior, including Hoyt. 

He also needs someone who won’t start shit for the sake of it. His partner needs to know how to pick their battles. 

Confident 

Thomas has no confidence, so he needs someone who has some to spare. 

People will ask why his S/O is with Thomas, and his S/O needs to be able to laugh and tell strangers point blank that they love Thomas, and possibly even brag about his amazing abilities as a provider, protector and overall partner. 

[deady-nightshade]

Blog Update

Hello, everyone! 

As you can probably tell, I have begun writing again! 

I am currently working on the Slasher Fairytale AU’s; I started Brahms’ story and got halfway through it when I decided that I didn’t like it. I’m redoing it and I changed the fairytale for him 🙃 I’ll hopefully be able to publish it later this week (possibly this weekend). I'm also jotting down ideas for Asa’s Fairytale AU. 

I am still taking requests but I ask that you be patient with me. I am taking a slight break from writing about monsters. Right now, I want to focus more on slashers. Of course, that doesn't mean I still won't publish monster stories, I'm just putting them on the back burner for right now. 

[deady-nightshade]

Slashers with a Pierced & Tatted S/O (GN) 🔪

Warning/Description: Mentions of tattoos, piercings and needles. Some suggestive elements but is SFW.

Includes the following Slashers: Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory, Thomas Hewitt, and Brahms Heelshire. 

**SFW but there are allusions to sex**

Thomas Hewitt

This man is going to love you no matter what you look like; you could have green skin, yellow fangs and scales, and this man would still treat you like a porcelain doll. 

Now, if you have piercings, I could see him gently touching them and kissing them, regardless as to where they are. I also picture him as someone removing the jewelry from their victims, cleaning them, and gifting them to you (who said romance was dead!). 

With tattoos, he’s not too familiar with them, seeing how no one in the family has them, and they aren’t that common in his small town. 

Will be curious and trace them, completely enraptured with the way the ink is placed underneath the skin. 

If you want new ones, he will draw some on your body, trying his best to make everything cohesive, and he won’t stop until it’s perfect. 

Please return the favor by copying some of your tattoos onto him, and whisper sweet words to him while you do it. Tommy will melt and not be able to function correctly for at least two days. 

Expect teasing from the Sheriff, but don’t worry, Luda May will smack him upside the head. 

Brahms Heelshire

If you got hired, chances are you hid your tattoos and piercings from his parents. When he first sees them, he nearly has a heart attack and has to do a double take. 

His parents are incredibly formal, and since he’s our resident wall hermit, he has never seen body modification like this. He has heard about them from his parents (along with the general stereotypes that come with them), so he’s immediately planning on ways to get rid of you. 

Now, if you follow the rules and treat the doll and house with respect, then he will become curious and put a pause on those dubious plans. 

When you’re sleeping, he will climb out of the walls and curiously, albeit, cautiously touch your tattoos (poor boy thinks that if he touches them, then he will get them, like, a virus of some sorts). 

I can also see him trying to rub them off when you’re sleeping and getting huffy when they don’t come off. 

Finds your piercings strange, but beautiful. 

Will go feral if you have nipple piercings, regardless of your gender.

Congrats, you complex and infuriating human, you have officially caught this wall hermit’s attention, making him determined on keeping you to himself. 

Also, after he reveals himself to you, be prepared for an onslaught of questions. 

Did they hurt? What do they mean? Why did you get them? How do you get them? And so on and so forth. 

Asa Emory 

His reaction is going to depend entirely on how you meet him; did you meet him as Asa or the Collector? 

If you meet him as Asa, this is how I imagine him acting...

1.) He loves your piercings and decides to become your new piercer, no ands ifs or buts. 

He finds piercing you to be strangely arousing...something about the needle, your complete trust in him, and the momentary look of pain on your face. It’s *chef’s kiss*. 

2.) Might be taken back at first with your tattoos, and he will judge you depending on what they are about. But he finds your willingness to be stabbed by numerous needles at the same time for an x-amounted time to be impressive. If you have any bug themed tattoos, be prepared to have your work critiqued and a mini lesson on said bug. 

“Did you know that Luna Moths have no mouths, giving them a lifespan of around seven days. During that time, all they do is mate....” 

“The wings of your dragonfly are incorrect; the hind wings are broader, not the same size as the forward wings. And another thing...” You get the picture. 

Now, if you've meet him as The Collector...

If you are part of his collection, I can picture him trying to remove your tattoos as an experiment/challenge of sorts. I can also see him piercing your body in hopes to see what the human body can withstand.

So, if you don't want that, than you better capture this man's attention and fast.

Jesse Cromeans 

I HC Jesse to have multiple tattoos; we already know that he has the skull and knives tattoo on his chest, so it makes me think that his arms are covered in ink, and possibly his back. 

Seriously, can we just imagine that? I picture his arms to be full sleeves, one with angels and the other with demons. Now, his back is covered with a large mural of skeletons, perhaps the biggest one being the Grim Reaper (BRB, drooling). 

Loves your tattoos and is fond of tracing them. 

If you got the same tattoo as him, the Chromeskull brand one, he would die and go to heaven. You have also inflated his ego by ten-fold. 

Congrats, you have left Jesse speechless, but don’t worry, he is quick to recover and carry you to bed. There, he will show you just how much he appreciates your newest ink. 

Finds piercings sexy and will spoil you by buying pure gold and platinum jewelry studded with the most expensive gems he can find (diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, etc...)

I also HC that if you get a matching tattoo with him, he would come home from work with a piercing that matches yours, jewelry and everything, 

Will encourage you to get more piercings and tattoos:

‘Hey, Y/N, have you thought about getting a tongue piercing? It would look amazing on you.’ 😉

‘That tattoo artist you follow on Insta is visiting a shop a few states over. I ended up booking them the entire day for you.’

[deady-nightshade]

Slasher Kisses HC 🔪

💋 Pucker up, Buttercup, we’re getting lippy! 💋 

Includes the following Slashers: Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, and Pinhead (added 09/29)

**SFW but there are allusions to sex. Will also be S&M themes for Pinhead.**

**Pinhead will be described using they/them pronouns**

Jesse Cromeans

His kisses will leave you breathless. 

He can’t speak, but when he kisses you, he pours every emotion into them. 

I picture him wrapping a hand around his S/O’s neck, allowing him to take full control of the kisses. 

Will kiss/grab your neck every chance he gets....if you were to kiss his neck and bite it, he will growl. 

He kisses to show affection and to give/receive pleasure. 

Most often than not, kissing Jesse will turn into a make out marathon which usually ends with the two of you naked and utterly spent.

Even though his lips are scarred, I picture them being soft yet firm. 

Loves to swallow your moans and his name when you say it barely above a whisper. 

Asa Emory

At first, his kisses are soft (with calculating undertones). 

Very responsive to his S/O, and will change the kiss to accommodate the situation. 

He doesn’t kiss to show love, but to feel pleasure and gratification; he’s human, and a man at that, he has urges and he knows that kissing can often lead to those urges being satisfied.

Likes to touch your face and loves holding your cheek. The action grounds him and while it may seem sweet to you, to him, it’s a show of dominance.

Also likes to kiss your eyelids (Angel Kiss); it’s not a common place to kiss your partner, but he gets a thrill that you trust him enough to close your eyes in his presence. 

I also see him doing this kiss when his S/O is sleeping—that’s the only time when his walls come down and allows himself to be vulnerable.

Thomas Hewitt

Kissing Thomas is sweet, tender and filled with love and adoration. 

Unlike Asa, Thomas kisses to show affection and love. And unlike Jesse, who likes remaining in control, Thomas just wants whatever you give him. 

Expect the first kiss to happen with his mask on, and 9 times out of 10, you will have to be the one to initiate. After your first kiss, he becomes hooked and will convey his needs through eye contact. 

This man can smolder. 

Thomas will always wait for you to make the first move, and after months, if not a year, he will slowly become more comfortable enough to initiate kisses. He might even remove his mask if you give him enough time, love and acceptance. 

Do not expect be kissed by Thomas in front of Hoyt, he will kiss you in front of Luda Mae, and possibly in front of Monty. 

For the love of God, kiss his scars and tell him how pretty he is! 

Brahms Heelshire

His kisses are fueled by need and desperation. 

He won’t stop kissing you until he needs to breathe. Even then, he’s going to kiss and bite any skin that he can reach or has access to. If you push him against the nearest surface and take control, this man will melt and become like putty in your hands. 

Like Jesse, Brahms will not stop at kisses; they serve as a form of foreplay for this man and he does not have the willpower to stop. 

He’s too starved of affection. And it’s not like that we’d complain 😏.

Is not afraid to kiss you.

You could be cooking and he slips out of the wall, pushes you against the counter and will take whatever it is that he wants and needs in that moment. 

And as we know, this man is clingy!

Likes it when you are on top and giving him your undivided attention. He goes feral when you bite his bottom lip (just be mindful of any scar tissue). 

Vincent Sinclair 

Soft and tender, much like Thomas Hewitt, but unlike our lovable, cannibalistic Texan, Vincent isn't afraid to touch you and pour his love and passion into the kisses. 

The first kiss is nothing more than a peck, and you kiss his mask, seeing how he hides his face. Under the mask, his face is redder than a rose in full bloom. 

I picture him removing his mask earlier than Thomas would, maybe after six-ish months into the relationship. 

His need to feel your lips against his is too much. 

At first, he might move the mask up slightly, to reveal his lips and actually kiss you, and once he becomes more comfortable, he will remove the entire mask. 

Please kiss this man’s hands, including his fingers, and he will die right then and there and ascend to heaven. 

You can kiss him in front of Lester, but try to refrain yourself in front of Bo. Bo can and will make Vincent’s life hell if he sees you kiss his twin. 

Bo Sinclair 

This man doesn't kiss — he makes out. 

If you try to give him a peck, he will wrap his arms around you and force you onto his lap. 

Likes to be in control, but also likes it when you fight back a little and/or play hard to get. He likes the chase. 

Will kiss you anytime, anywhere, regardless who is there. 

I can see him pulling you into his lap at home and going to town on your mouth with Vincent walking by. Bo likes to rub his relationship with you in his twin’s face.

He’s a jerk...but we love him. 

Like Brahms and Jesse, things don’t stop with kisses...they never do. 

His kisses are desperate, and usually driven with lust. The only time his kisses differ is if he's having a rough day, or if you two have just done the deed. 

His kisses will be softer, still hungry, but there's an emotional undertone to them. 

His kisses are his way of begging you to stay with him, to not leave him alone.  

Pinhead (Hell Priest)

Cenobites cannot differentiate between pain or pleasure (this is cannon)...so kissing them (Pinhead), is going to be whole learning experience. 

It’s a good thing that Pinhead is curious and likes learning new things, because this is going to take a lot of time and energy on both your parts. 

And to make matters even more complicated, their entire face is covered in pins (their name is Pinhead for a reason). 

At first, they will kiss areas that their pins will allow —  think forehead, nose, chin, hands/palms, inner wrists, etc...

But don’t be discouraged, with a lot of calculating, you can kiss the Cenobite on their lips! 

I also have this HC that Pinhead can remove the pins, or they could be removed by someone else. 

In that case, mouth kisses will happen more regularly once you convince Pinhead to give them a try. 

And while Pinhead might not feel a lot of pleasure with the kisses, they will notice how you react to them.

If you react positively, they will continue to kiss you.

If you react negatively/indifferent, then they will stop kissing you...it doesn’t bother them in anyway. 

Now, the only time they will get riled up when kissing you, is if you were to keep the pins in their face and go crazy — desperately seeking their mouth, not caring that the tops of the pins are slicing your face and causing blood to cover both your faces. 

That will send Pinhead’s mind reeling (in a deliciously wicked way). 

[deady-nightshade]

The Arcana Character Top 10 Playlist: Count Lucio Edition

Some of my favorite songs from the playlist that I created for our favorite power obsessed count. These songs remind me of him and what their relationship with MC is like. To hear more songs from their playlist, follow this link. Be sure to like the playlist.

**Playlist will be subject to change and I do not own the artwork**

1. Oh No!—Marina

2. Emperor’s New Clothes—Panic! At The Disco

3. Unstoppable—The Score

4. Ain’t It Fun—Paramore

5. Immortals—FOB

6. Applause—Sam Tsui

7. Closer—Kings of Leon

8. Kingdom of Cards—Bad Omens

9. Heads Will Roll—Yeah Yeah Yeahs

10. The Cult of Dionysus—The Orion Experience

[deady-nightshade]

The Arcana Character Top 10 Playlist: Asra Edition

Some of my favorite songs from the playlist that I created for our favorite traveling magician. These songs remind me of them and what their relationship with MC is like. To hear more songs from their playlist, follow this link. Be sure to like the playlist. 

**Playlist will be subject to change and I do not own the artwork**

1. Desert Rose—Sting

2. Bubblegum Bitch—MARINA

3. Eros & Apollo—Studio Killers

4. Between The Raindrops—Lifehouse

5. From Dusk Till Dawn—Ben Woodward

6. Moondust—Jaymes Young

7. Dark Doo Wop—MS MR

8. Paradise—Coldplay

9. Somebody Else—1975

10. Mr. Sandman—SYML

[deady-nightshade]

The Arcana Character Top 10 Playlist: Valdemar Edition

Some of my favorite songs from the playlist that I created for our favorite sadist-hungry demon. These songs remind me of them and what their relationship with MC would be like. To hear more songs from their playlist, follow this link. Be sure to like the playlist. 

**Playlist will be subject to change and I do not own the artwork**

1. I Come With Knives—IAMX

2. Panic Room—Au/Ra

3. Heathens—Twenty One Pilots

4. City of the Dead—Eurielle

5. Miss Jackson—Panic! At The Disco

6. The Killing Lights—AFI

7. Stripped—Shiny Toy Gun

8. Tag, You’re It—Melanie Martinez

9. Puppet Theater—Claptone

10. Beast—8 Graves