Slashers As Dad's

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Michael Myers, Brahms Heelshire TW's: None some mics scenarios/hc's about these guys being a dad to a young (10 y/o-ish) kid :)

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭

A laid back dad, lets you figure things out on your own. He’ll warn you off climbing on the rickety fences outside once with a shake of his head and a tug on your sleeve, but the next time he catches you doing it he’ll shake his head and roll his eyes from the porch.

When you inevitably fall from the fence and scrape your knee, he’ll scoop you up and carry you to the kitchen table, dabbing at the blood and give you a knowing look that says ‘I told you so.’

His strong hand will rub your back while you cry, then pat you when you won’t stop. Once you’re over it he’ll walk you back outside by the hand and gives a pointed look between you and the fence. You know better now.

You’ll have chores just like the rest of the family, things to keep you busy and contributing to the household like everyone else. On a few late afternoons when the sun is too hot and you’ve been cooped up with Luda Mae in the kitchen, sweating like hell and bored out your mind, Thomas will wander in and putter around for a second, before tugging at you and pointing outside towards the garden, pretending like he needs you for something.

He doesn’t actually need your help. Quickly shooing you out to play by the river as he does his own work nearby, keeping a watchful eye to let you have a few hours of fun, grunting in annoyance when you splash a bit too much.

Will slip you an extra cookie after dinner if it's one of the days Hoyt decides to rant about the state of the world.

𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐚 𝐒𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫

The smothering type. He likes to mother and father you. Sometimes he’ll give you some stern head shakes and sharper tones when he finds you causing grief for Drayton in the kitchen, sometimes he’ll give you never-ending forehead kisses and soft chirps of endearment if he sees you stumble even slightly.

Will absolutely attend your tea parties, and will definitely invite you to his own. Some of your teddies will have special ties and dresses he’s hand made from old, colourful shirts. He’ll dress and prop them up at your table and make polite conversation with them as he pours you some delicious pond water and offers you some fancy looking rocks. Always puts on his Pretty Woman mask for such occasions.

Gets a bit over-protective of you sometimes, and will need convincing anytime your uncle Chop Top or Nubbins want’s to take you out with them to the forest to find odd trinkets. He’ll make sure you drink a whole cup of water first, just in case you get dehydrated! Lots of loving pats and strokes are had before you leave, and he’ll stand at the porch waving goodbye and watching you for as long as you can.

When you’re back, he’s happy to see whatever you've found! Whether its bones, sticks, feathers or the odd shoe, he’ll take a genuine interest in it all. If you ever offer some arts and crafts with your treasures to decorate the house with, Bubba might cry with love. He adores your little pieces and hangs them in the living and dining room with pride, nodding his head and puffing his chest at the creations his precious baby made.

If you came back with a single scratch or cut, he will be frantic! Running here and there in the kitchen, putting on not one, but two plasters on the cut just to be safe! You’ll have to put up with either spending the day with dad or have him float nearby and keeping you inside for the day where he can see you (unless you manage to coax him to push you on the porch swing, something he’ll gleefully take you up on.).

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐦𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞

The helicopter parent, also on the stricter side. As much as Brahms is a dirty, wall-crawling fiend, he will not allow such a life for his child!

You will have a healthy breakfast, lunch and dinner with him at the dining table at set times, no phones allowed at the table! Piano lessons at 11 each day for an hour, except Sundays, but that time is to be spent reading a book (he will allow you the freedom to choose). He’ll try to teach you another language when you’re a bit older, probably French, and study it with you.

Gardening will be in there somewhere too as your outdoor time since he isn’t too fond of you leaving the house all that often, and only on sunny days. However, on a rare occasion, on a rainy day, with some strong puppy eyes, you can convince him to go out with you to splash in some puddles. When you’ve managed to convince him and he’s actually out, he’ll have tons of fun with you, pushing each other into the mud and splashing each other. Brahms will be the type to play wrestle with you when he’s in a playful mood.

As soon as he notices you shivering, the mood is gone and serious dad mode is activated. He will grab you and run inside with you to the bathroom, throwing a towel on you as he runs a hot bath and chastises you about convincing him to go outside, you totally threw the first mudball, this was your idea and how could you let it go this far! Throws you into the bath with your clothes on because he needs you to get warm and stop chittering, but probably crawls in with you when he realises he’s shaking too.

Brahms tends to be a bit of a sap towards you, those strong puppy eyes will have him twisted around your little finger most of the time. As much as he tries to be strict and follow what he thinks to be a good example, it's often misguided. The strict three meals a day often ends up being microwave chips and a burnt pigeon he got from the attack.

The softer side of him usually comes out as he’s putting you to bed, he always makes the time to read you a bedtime story, usually Peter Rabbit or Alice in Wonderland. A mug of hot milk will be next to your bed every night and he’ll tuck you in almost too snuggly, but you’ll feel safe and warm regardless, which is what he wants.

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬

An almost neglectful dad. He leaves you to your own devices most of the time and just watches you. The only time’s Michael intervenes is when he knows your antics will lead to certain death or grievous injury. Otherwise, in regards to small cuts and bruised knee's, you'll get a stare of 'What did you think would happen?' and maybe a bag of frozen pea's thrown at you.

When the snarling dog appears at your back garden fence, you’re equal parts cautious and curious as you drop your toys and tiptoe over the snout sticking out of the fence. Michael was nowhere to be seen and you’ve been bored lately with no one to play with, so even if the teeth are baring, it still looks fluffy. You haven’t pet a dog in ages, no matter how many times you begged dad for one. As your fingers are close enough to nearly tickle the whiskers, you’ve yanked back roughly by the collar of your shirt and dragged back to the house spluttering.

You know you’ve made him mad when he stands right over you, head hanging straight down to stare at you without the usual curious tilt. Michael won’t even shake his head, he’ll bore his eyes into you and you’ll feel the anger radiating from the stare. It scares you enough to instil in you that you do not touch strange dogs. Even if you don’t see Michael anywhere, he will see you.

The next morning, after Michael dumped you into bed the night before and threw the covers on you, you wake up to a small, raggedy dog plush. The fur is old, and there might be a small blood spot on the paw, but at least he finally gave you a dog, it assures him you won’t go looking for any rabid ones either.

He can be gone for whole days at a time, usually before you’re awake. After the one time he found you following him (the only time you’ve ever seen him startle slightly when you grabbed his hand while he was stalking someone through their back window), he doesn’t let you see him go. There will be some burnt toast and mushy eggs on the table for you on those days, and you’ll find some microwavable pasta in the fridge too, so you don’t go hungry.

When he does eventually come back, he sits with you, either on the couch or on the floor. He won’t sit too close, and won’t do anything more than stare. But, if he was gone for a while, he’ll let you put the little doll you’re playing with in his hand, and won’t let it go.

Aberration - Chapter 1

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Yay, here’s the first chapter of my new AU! It might be a little slower at first but it’ll pick up the further we get into it. So I hope you like this!

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

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Aberration Masterlist/Character profiles

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In this world, mutations, renamed as ‘Quirks’, are abnormal. Only about 5%-8% of the world population are known to have these so called ‘Quirks’. You are a graduate of one of the most prestigious science tech schools in the country. You’ve been selected to work for a secret scientific research facility that houses some of the most notorious criminals in the nation. Besides their crimes, what makes these individuals incredibly dangerous are their mutations. After meeting these individuals, they seem to have taking a liking to you. That should make your research and search for the cure all that much easier…

Right?

Keep reading

2K notes View Post

idontneedsleep671

1 year ago

It was very effective

41K notes View Post

idontneedsleep671

3 years ago

Brahms Heelshire

AN: Brahms is here!!

Warnings: major character death, violence, Brahms being insane and his usual toxic self, swearing

"What do you think you're doing?"

His voice was alarmed, panicked, as if he saw you holding a knife instead of a pair of pants. Brahms had that kind of thing where he'd worry about the tiniest things. A word that wasn't pronounced like he was used to, food that didn't taste like usual, mistakes that broke the routine. It made him uneasy, and scared.

You were standing in front of the bed, trying to decide what clothes to wear. The satin sheets were littered with varying clothing articles arranged close to each other to determine which colors matched.

"The new girl who brings the groceries invited me into town to show me around in case she can't go shopping for us. I thought I'd go, you know-", you gestured towards him, "in case there's an emergency."

Brahms was quiet for a few seconds, still observing you while nervously grasping the edge of the door.

He didn't want you to go. Not at all. You wouldn't come back if he let you go.

"I don't want you to go.", he mentioned his worries quietly, voice dropping deeper, now that he knew he had to stop you. It sent shivers down your body, the way his childish voice faded. As if a switch inside him just clicked.

"I know, Brahms, but I think it's for the best.", you smiled at him sweetly, finally deciding what clothes to wear, "And it'll be just for one evening."

Brahms felt anxiety rise in the pit of his stomach like bile. No. You couldn't go. He didn't want you to. His parents went away too, and they never came back.

"I don't want you to go.", this time it was louder, more rushed, more panicked. Brahms knuckles had turned white from holding onto the door frame.

"Brahms,", you sighed quietly, swiftly putting on your pants, "I know this seems scary to you, but it'll be fine."

The way you kept insisting that you'd go made him swallow harshly. Even just the idea of having to stay here alone, knowing you'd leave him, made him feel sick and hopeless inside. His stomach churned.

No, he wouldn't let you leave.

"I'm not scared,", Brahms shook his head vehemently, making the dark brown locks dance in front of his face, "I just don't want you to go."

You rolled your eyes at him, swiftly putting the clothes back into your dresser. Did he always have to be such a child? You understood the whole trauma, commitment issue thing, but god, it was annoying sometimes. He was a grown man after all, he should be able to stay alone for a few hours.

"Brahms, I will go.", you stated with a curt nod in his direction, "It's just one evening, I'm sure you'll survive."

Another eye roll from you accompanied the statement. This conversation was not what you wanted before leaving the house, even if a small part of you knew you'd had to face this the second you accepted the offer.

Something clicked inside the man in front of you at the sight of you being so careless about all of this. Did you even care about his feelings in this whole situation? You loved him, didn't you? Then why be so cold about all of this? Maybe you wanted to leave him, you wanted to be with someone else, betray him, and everything he felt for you. Jealousy seeped into hos system, clouding his thoughts.

"I said no.", he yelled, moving in front of you, blocking the door with his body.

He was huge as he loomed over you, and even though you trusted him with your life, you flinched back a little, intimidated by his size. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving while hot air hit you through the holes of his mask.

"Brahms.", every bit of warmth had left your voice, and you pressed your hands against your hips, sending a cold stare to the man in front of you. You had enough.

But the brunette just kept breathing heavily, never once breaking eye contact. His gaze would've scared you if he didn't behave so childishly. Just like always.

The two of you kept looking at each other, eyes fighting a war one could never express with words. Just as Brahms was about to give in, ready to cling to you if that meant you staying, the deafening ringing of the doorbell echoed through the large, empty house.

Both of your heads snapped towards the big entrance door, temporarily forgetting about the tension in the room beforehand. You sent one glance back to Brahms, and before he could react, pushed yourself through the gap between him and the door, leaving him behind. What a mistake.

Brahms stared at his hands for a few seconds, in disbelief, before his eyes followed your form marching down the stairs.

His vision turned red with rage. How could you. How did you dare.

With his stare never once leaving you, he started steering towards you. It felt like his sight was restricted, the only thing he perceived a tunnel vision and at the end of it, you.

And you came closer and closer as he followed you, your body now nearly in reach.

Like in a trance, the brunette noticed his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, as well with a sharp, piercing beeping that made his skin tingle.

One of his hands got a hold of your arm, and with a strength he didn't look like he possessed, he pulled you back against him.

You wouldn't leave. You'd never, ever leave. He'd make sure of it, even if it meant he'd have to chain you to the bed.

You, however, grew furious as soon as you felt his skin on yours and with one sharp push, you shoved the man away from you and against the banister. Brahms yelped as his spine hit the sharp edge of the wood, but right now, you couldn't care less.

"Touch me again, and I'll leave and never-", your voice was dripping pure venom, eyes shooting ice-cold daggers at the man in front of you, "-ever come back."

That was the final straw, the final statement.

With a grunt and a loud, final "No!", Brahms forced you away from him. His strong arms pushed you back as he stepped forward, locks sticking to the sweat on his neck.

He saw you fall as if someone froze time. The way your foot missed the step, the way your eyes widened as you stumbled backwards, arms fishing around the air, searching, hoping, for something that could catch your fall. Your pretty mouth opened in a scream, you tried to grab the wooden railing next to you but failed as your body flew back without you having any control.

A loud, sickening crack filled the open lobby like a gunshot, and then it was silent. Dead silent. Brahms noticed that the doorbell stopped. The bitch must've realized that no one was coming.

Brahms took a deep breath, swallowing blood he didn't know he had in his mouth as he glanced down the staircase. He didn't see nor hear you. Anxiety filled his brain, earlier rage swept away as if he'd forgotten about it.

"...Y/n?", he whispered, voice suddenly small and high-pitched again, filled with fear. He didn't mean it, he didn't mean it, oh lord, he didn't mean it. He hoped you wouldn't be angry.

"Y/n? I'm sorry.", Brahms took a few small steps down the stairs, hands gripping the railing as if he'd fall when he'd let go. A few more steps, and he saw your leg behind one of the banisters, unmoving.

A few more steps and your torso came into view pressed into the carpet of the staircase.

"Y/n...?", Brahms didn't know why he was talking so quietly. He didn't know what was going on at all. He just wanted you to stay with him and now- he swallowed harshly.

A few more steps and he saw it. Your head had hit the floor on your fall down, breaking your neck on impact. Blood pooled around the skull, face sickly twisted and contorted as your skin had moved to give space to your moving bones. Dead, cold eyes stared up at him, lidded and filled with... fear.

The masked man moved closer, slowly and quietly, as he looked down at you. A few seconds later and he was kneeling on the ground, gently reaching out to touch your cheek. It was warm but felt weird, like a doll, like dough. It scared him, even if he didn't know why.

"Y/n...", the killer softly petted your cheek smearing a bit of blood over your skin during the process, "M'sorry. Just didn't want you to leave."

His voice was small and scared, like a child apologizing for eating too much candy, or breaking Mother's favorite vase.

Brahms anxiously waited for an answer. When he didn't get one, he stood up, slowly moving backwards. What was he going to do now?

"I'll wait upstairs, okay?"

No answer.

"I am sorry, Y/n.", the corners of his mouth pulled down like a giant, exaggerated pout. He looked a child. A child stuck in the body of a grown man.

Brahms slowly made his way upstairs, softly trudging over the carpet.

It was still deathly silent in the lobby, the only noise came from the big clock, ticking away in the corner.

As soon as Brahms reached the end of the stairs, he looked down one more time, hoping to see your face follow him, your sweet voice call out for him, but nothing moved.

Sighing, he made his way to his room, hoping that even though this time, he'd made a grave mistake, you'd still forgive him. After all, you loved him, right?

AN: I love the idea of Brahms not understanding death and "falling back" into his childish self because of it. I thought it fits well. I'd love to hear your opinions though.

A Creeply Christmas

Because sometimes we all need to spend Christmas with the characters we love most.

I wrote this while listening to “Believe” from The Polar Express on repeat and the vibes were immaculate, so I hope you enjoy

Merry Christmas everyone

It was a calm, tranquil Christmas morning in the Underworld. All citizens and even the king himself were tucked snuggly into bed, comforted by the warmth given to them compared to the harsh Underworld winters. A calm walk through the woods within would show you nothing but snowy bliss, even the monsters hidden within enjoying the quiet of the world and sleeping in. Snow softly drifted down, the trees standing firm despite the weight of the frozen flakes resting upon them. The world was the very image of calm, and it seemed that everything would be going right today.

Or, at least, it was peaceful and calm until you reached the heart of the forest. Of course, Slender’s mansion always had to be the oddball out, and while it had been enraptured in tranquility for most of the morning, a lot of its residents were now up and running about, causing quite a ruckus, especially because-

“WE’RE OUT OF COFFEE? ON CHRISTMAS MORNING?!” Jane’s voice carried through the mansion, her irritation causing those around her to ring out in laughter as she searched through the cabinets in a panic. A deep chuckle from behind her pulled her out of her frenzy, a muscular arm reaching past her.

“It’s right here, hun. I picked up more last night.” Tim’s morning voice resounded out deeply and served to calm her even further as he placed her favorite flavor within her outstretched hands.

“You’re awfully rambunctious this morning, aren’t you, Jane?” Brian teased her, sliding next to her to prepare his own mug of coffee.

“Well, how could I not be?! After all, they’ll be here today!” Her previous morning grumpiness forgotten, she danced around in excitement as she waited for her cup to be filled.

“As if the entire house isn’t up and ready to go just for that reason alone,” Jeff grumbled out as he joined those in line for coffee, BEN’s laughter ringing out from above as he floated into the room.

“I mean, come on Brian, don’t act like you weren’t fretting all night last night over whether or not they’d enjoy your gift.” BEN teased him with a wink, landing at the kitchen table and digging into Slender’s famous Christmas pancakes.

“W-WELL! It is their first Christmas with us, and I just- Well- I- I- I want it to be special…” His volume diminished as he shyly fiddled with his hands, joining BEN at the table for his own serving of pancakes.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy just to be receiving something from you in general, Brian.” Slender’s voice boomed from the head of the table as he flicked through his morning paper.

Soon, all residents were happily munching on their Christmas breakfasts, Toby being the last to join them, still bundled up in his blankets, hair an absolute disaster from his bedhead. It was a calm and joyful morning for all of the residents, and even the nocturnal creeps had stayed up to partake in the Christmas festivities. All of them were excited, and not just because it was Christmas, but because they’d get to see their favorite person; you would be joining them this Christmas.

As the time for your arrival ticked closer, the clocks throughout the mansion serving as a constant reminder, everyone began growing antsier and antsier, the excitement flowing through all of them and providing a lively atmosphere within the walls of the mansion.

“They’re gonna like my present most!” BEN proudly boasted, pointing to himself as he struck a confident pose in front of the grand tree taking up most of the room.

“N-no, I’m sure… They’ll like mine… Even more!” Toby refuted, poking his head into the room to pout at BEN as he finished up some last-minute decorations Brian had found the night before. Jeff’s laughter resounded between the two of them as he pulled Toby into his arms, ruffling his hair in a teasing manner.

“As if the two of you chumps could beat me when it comes to picking out presents for them, I’m obviously gonna be the winner!” Bickering started amongst them, before getting cut off with a scoff from Tim.

“It’s not a competition,” he stated, taking a long swig of his coffee from his seat by the window before flashing them a cocky smirk, “But if it was, I’d be the one taking the cake.”

“Oh REALLY now?!” They all taunted back, laughter filling up the room as everyone began bragging about how it was their own gifts that would surely become your favorite, that they each knew you far better than the others. As the time for your arrival finally closed in, they had all begun racing towards the door, wanting to greet you immediately.

“I… Get… The first hug!!” Toby shouted out, racing to get there first.

“You got the first hug last time, it’s my turn today!” BEN yelled back, shooting past him to guard the door.

“You’ll all end up getting a hug anyway, does it really matter who gets it first?” EJ yawned out, moving to hide in the darkest corner by the door, a blanket draped around him and his eyes tiredly blinking as he too wanted to be there to greet you.

“Of course it does! The first hug is the best hug!” BEN pouted at him, cheeks and chest puffed out.

“Why don’t we just do one big hug this year?” Brian suggested, joining the group. Everyone considered it thoughtfully, providing their own suggestions and ideas, as snow began to crunch softly outside.

Your footsteps, gentle but fast as you moved through the woods echoed around you, your arms tight around your chest for added warmth, your breaths coming out in clouds in the chilly morning air. A smile bloomed on your face as the familiar outer walls of the mansion came into view, and you found yourself moving faster to reach your destination. As you knocked softly on the door, it had been swung quickly open, surprising you as you were met with the eager smiling, cheering faces of those that cherished you most.

You’d been swept up into a large, glob of a hug, BEN and Toby fighting to be closer to you as everyone swarmed around you, going with Brian’s idea of a group hug. Laughter filled the air as you made your way through the blob, hugging each creep in turn.

“I can’t wait to have you open presents, I need to have proof that my gift was the best!”

“No, MY gift is the best!”

“No… It’s mine they’ll… Like most!”

“Oh, come on shitheads, you know I’ve got the best taste.”

“You barely have common sense, how are we to expect you to have taste?”

“HEY! I’m not THAT bad!”

Laughter surrounded you once more as you found yourself surrounded by the warmth and mirth of those around you, and as your own laughter sounded out, causing them to all pause and look eagerly at you, silence filling the room again.

“You don’t have to compete for which gifts are the best, because after all,” the smile upon your face had taken away the breath of everyone in the room as they stared at you in awe, “You’re all the greatest gift I could possibly ask for, and all I need.” As your laughter filled the room again, the timid creeps around you moved closer for more hugs and head pats as they cooed at you, helping you move to the living room so you could make sure you had a seat.

They’d make sure this was your best Christmas yet, because, after all, you deserved it- and as the person they all loved most, they’d do anything to give you the love and warmth you need.

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idontneedsleep671

1 year ago