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dejafanwriting · 11 months
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The fact that it’s been almost a year since I last posted something. :0
(Became a workaholic and took on two jobs and still am studying)
Sorry about that babes.
Im honestly not sure if I’ll continue writing here :/ I kinda lost motivation for it.
Let me know if any of you would like me to continue and maybe that way I’ll feel pressured motivated to continue this.
Love ya.MUAH
~Deja
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dejafanwriting · 1 year
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what is your native language?
Espanish 🇪🇸 :P (read that with an accent)
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Hi! I wanted to know if it was okay to follow you! I’m seventeen and I know many people don’t like minors following them, so I figured it would be best to ask
-🍄Mushroom Anon
Hi dear 🍄 anon! I mostly post NSFW work that I rather minors not interact with. I do post sfw writings but it’s less often. I can’t force ppl to follow or not follow me, but I do add the warnings and tags for your(and other minors) safety. I would recommend to avoid my NSFW posts but It would be hard since it’s what I post more.
I REALLY appreciate you wanting to support me and follow, but I’d me more comfortable if minors didn’t interact with my mature 18+posts. For mine and others peace of mind.
Thank you sm for asking and I hope you have a great day- MUAH🖤 🍄!
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Sorry for those who have been waiting on the next chapter, I've been busy with school and work :(
ive also hit a bit of writer's block with this book, but I'm slowly coming out! [pride month pun not intended]
~MUAH!
Will chapter 4 of your Brahms fanfic be coming out soon I loved reading it 🥺
Thank you so much!! I'll be releasing the next chapter soon! sorry for the long wait <3
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Don’t leave me-Brahms Heelshire X F!Reader Part 2
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Back at it again with my bs. Manny errors I feel lazy to correct rn but here's me wanting to post more. I'll go over them later. Also, I'm not a doctor so the medical treatments described will be inaccurate.
TW: Blood, gore, mentions of violence, reader having a life crisis, and a pinch of nswf :P. bit of a praise kink thing going on. bitch boy brahms ahead Minors Please DNI.
Wordcount:3k+
Taglist: @sowhatariyana, @carnationhcs, @auggiehuds (I have a taglist now apparently :0)
Part 1
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"Just great".
You grumble to yourself when a raindrop falls on your face. The rain is just perfect for the mood. It really adds to the gloomy scenery. The lightning illuminates the path towards the manor and the thunder rumbles softly in the distance. The gentle rain droplets fall against your figure and the blowing winds ruffle your skirt and the surrounding foliage. It’s almost dramatic. Like a scene from a movie.
As you walk barefoot on the harsh gravel back towards the manor, you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to shield your body from the cold. Your feet and arms are painfully freezing but your mind and heart are far too busy trying to calm down to even care about your current condition.
"This is a bad idea..."
You quietly tell yourself as you reach the driveway of the manor and continue towards the front door. But before you step on the porch, you recall Brahms locking the doors, meaning that entering through the front door wouldn’t be possible.
And neither was exiting....
"What the hell are you thinking!!?".
Your nails squeeze into your arms as you scold yourself. Not even 20 minutes ago, you had been running away from a man that everyone thought had died twenty years ago but lived inside the Heelshire manor's walls, killed your abusive ex, and had been chasing you to do god knows what to you.
But now, you were willingly going back towards possible danger because you blamed yourself for his injuries and pitted his state of life. You felt guilt.
He had been relying on you for the past couple of weeks for food and care. You were his only company. No one else knew of his existence other than his parents. But they are gone. And judging by the letters you had previously found, the Heelshires weren't coming back...
He has nothing else. No one else.
'You’re really going mad huh?' you interlay question yourself.
The rainwater drips from your face and you cringe at the feeling of your damp clothes against your skin. A sudden flash of lightning startles you and brings you back to your present dilemma. How to re-enter the manor. And considering if you should even go back inside.
Another flash followed by a distant rumble falls, and with a deep sigh, you turn to head towards the manor's side door. Malcolm would occasionally use the door to bring deliveries when he forgot his back door key and you wouldn’t hear his knocks. The door was always kept locked, which could only mean the key was somewhere hidden outside.
You immediately begin to look for the key when you approach said door. You lift the small doormat and look under, but find no sign of the key. You then check under the small potted plant to your left. Nothing. Inside the porch light holder. Nada.
"What the hell?" You exclaim as you continue to look under nearby decor and go as far as to check under rocks. But no key. "GOD DAMNIT!". You yell in frustration and throw the eighth rock you had checked under.
Your irritation begins to build more. The rain was only falling harder and the wind was picking up. You were running out of options.
You had considered the back door a possibility, but just like the front door, it was most likely locked. You couldn’t climb up to the second-story balcony in this weather, and even if you managed to, no doors would be unlocked considering that you would religiously maintain them as such. There was also the fact that the windows were painted shut, so there was absolutely no way they would open. 'screw you, you tradesman fuck'. The only way left for you to enter the estate would be the same way you exited...
You hug yourself as the memory of crawling through the walls and under the pipes while being chased by Brahms sends shivers down your spine. And once again, make you question your 'oh-so-stupid' decisions.
Not wanting to go through the small cramped space again, sends an idea to your mind. You slowly turn towards the rock you threw behind you and then back towards the glass panel on the door. If you break the glass, you could reach inside and unlock the door; technically breaking in.
"oh, what the hell", you sigh and turn away from the door to walk towards the rock. You hesitantly pick it up, feeling its rough edges on your palm as you clench it and place your fist on your forehead, and sigh. "You’re really about to break into a rich ass house aren't you?" you tell yourself. With one last deep sigh, you raise your hand that holds the rock and turn towards the door.
But before you can throw the rock, it falls from your hand when you're startled by a tall shadow that now stands behind the door.
You hold your breath and stare at the looming figure through the distorted glass panels. The lack of light makes it even more difficult to make out any details. Your heart pounds against your chest and you are frozen in place. The rain falls heavy against your figure, but you don't dare move an inch.
A startled gasp leaves your lips when you hear a soft 'click' coming from the door lock before the figure slowly disappears. You stand frozen for a few more seconds, staring at the door, before your body finally decides to move.
With trembling hands, you reach for the door handle. You take a few more seconds, catch your breath, and reconsider everything that has happened in the past hour or so.
Many thoughts and images race through your head and you close your eyes to try and sort them out.
'what the hell is wrong with you?!. Are you seriously going to go back in after you fought so hard to get out?!' your grip on the handle tightens. 'he needs my help' you try to argue with yourself. 'HE KILLED COLE' your mind basically screams. Your knuckles are impossibly white as your argument In your head persists. You cycle through the events but keep thinking back on Brahms’s state. "He needs me"...
You loudly grunt, shoving all your thoughts away, and in a flash, push the door open. Your body is propelled forward and towards the floor as a gust of wind basically throws open the door, pulling you along. You land on your hands and knees and the howling wind spills into the minor. Your embarrassment overtakes your shock and you push yourself up quickly, and turn to shut the door.
You hold yourself up against the door breathing heavy, trying to catch your breath. Your damp hair and clothing are more noticeable now that you're out of the rain and wind and you can feel the weight of it pulling you down.
Your eyes shift down towards the door lock and you reach to turn it but your hand is met with a wet substance. And that's when you see it.
Blood.
Your heart rate picks up once again and you're immediately reminded why you returned. "Brahms..."
Your head whirls behind you and you squint your eyes through the darkness and catch sight of the trail of blood that is littered across the hardwood floor. You slowly follow it away from the entry and towards a small hallway. You enter the dark hallway and continue but stop in the middle of the hall where the blood trail abruptly ends—but before you have time to question it, you feel a presence behind you.
You quickly spin around but then freeze in place. The soft moonlight that seeps through the large windows behind him emphasizes his tall dark form. There at the other end of the hall, Brahms stands just a few feet away from you.
Alarms go off in your head and scream for you to run, to get away from the possible harm he may cause you. But you stay in place.
"Brahms..." You speak but it's barely above a whisper. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your palms in an attempt to keep yourself from running away. "I-I came back..f-for y-"
Before you can mutter anything else, Brahms begins to walk toward you. The stained porcelain mask that covers his face slowly becomes more visible with each step. Your heart rate picks up for what feels like the thousandth time today as his figure slowly approaches you. Through the darkness, you can see his shoulders rising and falling from his heavy breathing. When his towering figure stands right in front of you, you advert your gaze towards the floor in order to avoid his stare.
"I-I came to h-help you..." You stutter. Your eyes squeeze shut when you feel him move closer to you, towering over your shorter form. His face moves closer to your head, barely touching your hair with his porcelain mask...It's almost as if he's breathing you in.
You open your eyes and you come face to face with his rapidly rising and falling chest. Due to the proximity, you can see the sweat glistening on his chest and the hair that peeks past the off-white tank top he wears. You can't help the small heat that rushes to your cheeks when you notice his built body, even through the baggy clothes he wears.
You quickly advert your gaze away from his chest and catch sight of the red stain on his clothes. That's when you see it. The bloody wound on his abdomen.
"You're bleeding!" You gasp out a bit louder than expected, making Brahms jump and take a step away from you. His eyes widen and stare at your trembling hands as they move towards him.
"I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. " You apologize. You slowly reach towards the wound. His gaze burns into your hands, making you pause just centimeters from his body.
"Can I?" You softly ask, not wanting to cross any boundaries. Oh, The irony of your situation. You're really asking him if you can touch him when he had been chasing you through the house not long ago. But to be fair, he did get hurt trying to save you.
You look up towards his stare. You're close enough that you can see the green in his dark eyes and notice the bloodshot red in his right eye. His own stare dances between your features, trying to read your expression.
"P-please. I want to help. It could get infected if we don't tend to it." You say, trying to calm the turmoil in his eyes. After a few seconds, he responds with a slight nod.
With that, your reach for the fabric of his shirt and lift it a bit to better look at his wound, not missing the way his breathing quickened when you make contact with his flesh. You try to ignore it and study the slash on his abdomen. It's messy and swollen and although very slowly, it is still bleeding.
"Let's get you to the bathroom, there's a first aid kit there. We need to get it cleaned and stop the bleeding" you say. You look up at him and he's already staring down at you. Your eyes catch sight of his clenching hands at his side.
"Come, " you slowly reach for his hand. He doesn’t pull from your grasp, so you take his wrist and softly tug. "We need to do this as soon as possible"
He stands for a few seconds, staring down at your connected hands. You swear you can hear his heart rate, but you dismiss it as your pulse in your ears. His face turns to yours and he slightly tilts his head, almost in question at your actions. You give him an encouraging nod, and with that, he follows as you guide him towards the nearest restroom.
Once you enter, you guide him towards the tub and motion for him to sit on the ledge. You take a step back from him and even sitting, he is almost at eye level with you. His height should scare you, but in some way, it intrigues you. It makes you wonder how he was able to manage to live in such cramped spaces while being over 6 feet tall—And not to mention his not-so-small physique.
You realize you have been staring at him lost in thought and only remember you're still holding his wrist when Brahms lifts his free hand to take a hold of your rain-soaked sleeve. It's now your turn to stare down at his hand on you—There's still speckles of dried blood on them.
"Your clothes, they’re wet"
He states in his childlike voice and it startles you a bit. Hearing the voice of a kid coming from a grown man in his twenties is very odd to you. And it's even more freakish when you previously believed the voice belonged to the ghost of a dead 8-year-old.
"Y-yea, the rain was pouring pretty hard" You give an embarrassed chuckle and pull away from his touch. A low disappointed huff escapes Brahms when you let go of his wrist.
"You’ll catch a cold." He says, still in that voice, with a tilt of his head, dark brown locks falling over the porcelain of his mask.
"ill change later. Right now, I need to tend to your wound"
Before he can protest, you quickly turn towards the sink to look for the first aid kit. You catch a glimpse of your appearance in the mirror. Your hair is still wet but beginning to frizz up, and it lays a mess on your head. Your skin looks a bit pale due to the cold and you can already see eyebags beginning to form under your eyes.
‘you look like utter crap' you tell yourself.
Your eyes catch sight of Brahms’s reflection as he stares at you checking yourself out. You clear your throat and quickly smooth your hair down before looking under the sink for the kit.
You take the kit and return to step in front of Brahms. You lay the kit on a near-surface and open it, taking out the things you'll need to clean his wound. You then turn to him in order to start but a sudden realization hits you like a truck— you can't access the wound with his clothes in the way.
" You n-need to take off your shirt. O-or else I won't be able to access the wound" You tell him, trying to avoid eye contact.
"Okay" He replies., the childish tone still not leaving his voice.
You hear shifting and look up to see him beginning to slide off his green cardigan. Your eyes immediately are glued to his biceps.
'Jesus! when did this man have time to hit the gym?' your thoughts run wild. You suppose that having to move about and maneuver through the walls would be enough physical activity to build muscle. 'or good genes perhaps'
You’re pulled away from your thoughts when a soft pained grunt leaves Brahms as he tries to lift his white top.
"Here let me help!"
You shoot up quickly and take hold of the edge of his tank top. You slowly lift it, careful not to disturb his wound. He lifts his arms, and you pull the tank top off completely and throw it in the pile along with his cardigan. Your face turns beet red for the hundredth time when you're able to fully look at his uncovered upper body.
Not wanting to stare for too long, you turn to grab a damp cloth, and when you turn back towards him, you go straight to cleaning his wound. You have to bend down a bit in order to wipe off the blood and dirt from around the abrasion and you can feel his stare on your every move. When you get near the wound, a soft jolt leaves his body.
"S-sorry.Does it hurt?" You ask him.
"No, just surprised me" The child voice replies.
"You can talk to me in your regular voice y'know?" You look up at him "you don't have to use that voice anymore". His eyes shift between your own stare, contemplating your words.
"O-okay" He breathes. His voice shifts from the higher pitch down to a lower more natural-sounding one. His normal voice sounds much deeper and…better.
"Good" You give him a soft smile before turning back to finish cleaning up the wound.
After it's all cleaned up, you're able to see the wound better. The bleeding finally stopped and It's not as deep as you had originally thought, but it was starting to swell up due to the trauma. You reach for a bottle of disinfectant and dab some of the liquid on a gauze pad. "This is to make sure it doesn’t get infected. It might sting a bit"
He gives you a small nod before you dab the product on the wound. Immediately, Brahms reacts with pained grunts. His hands grip the edge of the sink as you continue the stinging treatment.
"It's okay. It's okay." You soothe as you quickly finish disinfecting the wound and pull the gauze pad away. "There, I'm done".
His eyes are droopy and his chest is heaving. The color on his neck turns a bit paler due to the pain. You quickly reach over for a gauze patch and place it over the wound, covering it in order to allow for it to begin to heal. And before you can think about it, your hand reaches to brush away the curls from his masked forehead.
"There, all done. You did very good." You try to reassure but it comes out a bit more like praise.
His eyes shoot wide open and stare into yours. You freeze in place and stare back into his eyes. A glint of something you can't quite name fills his gaze.
Your hand still on his messy curls, shifts lower onto the cold porcelain of his mask and stops to caress his covered cheek, palm brushing against the hairs of his beard that peek out from under the mask. His own larger hand slowly reaches up to take a soft hold of your much smaller wrist and leans his face into the palm of your hand, closing his eyes as he drinks up your touch. His own touch sends sparks through your skin. Your free hand reaches up to rake through his dark curls.
At this, you can feel the shiver that travels through his body. His breathing comes out more like a pant and you can hear his breath hitch when you slightly scratch your nails against his scalp.
A tinge of sadness suddenly fills you as a thought crosses your mind. Brahms had probably been deprived of human touch for as long as he's been living inside walls—Deprived of any human company other than that of his parents. And even then, they probably didn’t really pay much mind to him.
Instead, they treated the doll like it was a real boy when their actual son was living within the walls of his own home.
"You poor thing" you soothe in a sympathetic voice, continuing your caress. "You must’ve been so lonely"
His eyes softly open to look up at yours. They’re glossy and his pupils are dilated. His breathing becomes heavier with each stroke of your hands on his curls.
"it's okay, I'm here now"
You slowly lean closer to his face. Your lips touch the cold porcelain of his mask, leaving a small kiss on his forehead. You can feel his body slightly tense under your touch. The hand on your wrist slightly tightens and a choked whimper leaves Brahms when you pull away. The sound alone sends heat through your body.
"kiss"
Brahms speaks, his voice ragged but holding the childs tone again.
"What did I say about speaking in your regular voice?" You softly raise a brow at him.
"k-kiss" he breathes in a broken whisper. In his normal voice.
Your hand leaves his curls to rest on his other masked cheek. You lean down and place another soft kiss on his right cheek. His free hand also reaches up to wrap around your other wrist. Your lips leave his mask, but you don't pull away completely, leaving you face-to-face with him.
"More," he says, barely above a whisper.
"Where are your manners?" You tease with a soft grin.
"P-please, more", he softly pleads, his eyes teary with what can only be described as desperate need.
As you lean closer, you can feel his hands almost pulling you towards him, but not quite forcefully. You gently kiss his other cheek, lingering for a few seconds before moving and leaving a second kiss closer to the lips on his mask. Your own heavy breaths mix with his as you move closer, barely touching the porcelain of his lips.
"One more....please"
You comply with his request and crash your lips to his, moving your warm lips against his still cold ones. He presses his face closer to you in an attempt to reciprocate the one-sided kiss. Needy moans escape his throat and his hands pull at your wrists, almost fearing that you will pull away.
But eventually, you need oxygen, so you break the kiss to catch your breath. Brahms also sounds out of breath and you push back to see his neck and naked chest flush pink. Your eyes move down his chest and past his abdomen, where you catch sight of his clothed arousal.
Brahms calls your name in a needy, out-of-breath moan when he sees you staring at his trousers,sending heat to your core.
"I'm here Brahmsy" you soothe, moving your body closer to his, making him have to part his legs, and slide between them. "I'm right here". You press your body flush against his, allowing some friction between you and the hardness in his pants.
A desperate whine leaves Brahms and he releases your wrist to hug your torso closer to his body. This allows you to move your hands to hold the back of his head and pull it towards you and press his cheek against your chest.
"Let me take care of you"
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sorry for edging you, babes :p. Don't worry I'm already working on the next part
~👻
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Your cool as hell! you deserve more request tbh!
Omg thank you! This means a lot to me🥺
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Hey!
Before I go in With my ask, i was wounderin if you wrote for Otis driftwood?
Specifically from house of 1000 corpses, not the devils rejects
V-
Yes, yes I do :P
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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May I make a request for Thomas hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, and you can pick whoever else!
for his S/o who is an axe thrower and in general very good with axes? usually that's their main weapon when they're going hunting for victims
Yay, my first official ask! And ofc you chose my fav texas boys! (I chose my boy Jason too because I feel like it was fitting for the theme lol). Sorry it's a bit long I got carried away. Thank you and hope you like it
is it axe or ax? because google says it's both but my spellcheck apps tell me otherwise. I'll use both just in case :p
Warnings: My usual potty mouth :p. Mentions of violence and blood. (A bug gets killed in Tommy's🧍🏻‍♀️sorry in advance) Just typical slasher stuff
Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, and Jason Voorhees with an Axe wielding S/O 🪓
Thomas Hewitt 🤎
First of all, and this goes without saying, all of these slashers will express some level of concern with their s/o wielding any type of weapon.
For Tommy, he would be in the middle of the three.
Not super concerned, but enough to be worried you’d accidentally hurt yourself.
Even if his S/O was extraordinarily skilled at throwing an ax, he would still be scared for their safety.
But don't get me wrong, he would be amazed at your skill.
It would be a hot texas afternoon when he saw you first show your skill.
The both of you had gone out to collect some wood for Luda Mae's wood stove and you decided to tag along with Tommy and offered to carry the chopping axe he would use for splitting the larger trunks after he cut them down with his chainsaw.
He would be a bit wary of you holding the axe but wouldn’t 'voice' his concerns. Only watched you to make sure nothing happened.
He'd be a bit confused when he caught sight of you inspecting the axe, turning it over, and checking how heavy it was. He'd be even more surprised when you'd comment how "It's got a nice weight" and "it might need to be sharpened soon"
But what really caught him off guard? When the both of you sat down under a small shade to rest after having pilled up all the wood, you pointed at an annoyingly noisy cicada that was on a tree trunk a few feet in front of your spot on the ground and told him "I bet I can hit it from here"
He'd given a rumbly chuckle and motioned you to go ahead and try.
But instead of throwing a rock like he thought you would, you reached for the axe next to him and threw it at the tree, sticking the axe on your target and making the cicada past tense 🧍🏻‍♀️
He'd sit stunned for a few seconds before snapping out of it when he'd see you cheering and saying how you still "got it".
If you expressed enough interest, he would go as far as to make your own small throwing range and make targets out of wood slabs. (Using his own chainsaw-wielding skills for something else)
He'd also go out of his way to find an axe fit for his S/O's liking.
Also, it would bring him a bit piece of mind knowing that they’re equipped to defend themselves in case a 'trespasser' attacks them.
And such was demonstrated when one tried to escape and his s/o used their axe to stop him. Yea, let's just say he stopped in his tracks to lay face down and closely check out the grass 👀
Best be assured Hoyt will ask you to help 'deal' with trespassers more often after that.
Overall, Tommy would support his s/o's love for axe throwing ❤️
Bubba Sawyer🧡
This big sweetheart would be the least concerned out of the slashers.
He'd be pretty chill about his s/o having a gift in the ax-throwing arts.
He'd be the most amazed as well.
Quite frankly, he'd be more concerned for the safety of his brothers
Why you may ask?
Well because the first time he saw his S/O's great skill was during a quite rowdy family dinner.
It all began when Nubbins thought it was a good time for show and tell, and emptied out his never-ending sack/bag of trinkets right on the table. Various items spilled out and some even fell off the table. But the most noticeable? A mother freaking hatchet.
"Where the damn hell did ya' get that?!" Drayton would ask.
Nubbins would then inform you all how he got it from some guy who was 'passing by' and was now unalive outside the property.
This was new information for the rest of the household.
The older Sawyer would rise in anger and begin yelling at his brothers, including Bubba, about how they failed to inform him of this and even began to get physical by throwing food at them.
But you being you, were quick to defend your hubby and state how he also didn’t know. Thus creating more chaos during dinner.
One thing leads to another, and before Drayton could hit Bubba with his stick, you reach for the hatchet on the table and aim at the piece of wood in his hand and throw it. Successfully cutting it in half, just above his fingers.
The brothers would all freeze and then slowly turn in sync to look at the axe stuck in the wall and then back at your fuming figure.
Drayton would stare at his intact hand like👁👄👁
He would then calm down and Bubba would just stare at you in awe. Happy that you'd stand up for him but also astounded at your aim.
Since then, it wasn’t uncommon to see you walk around with the hatchet in a makeshift holster at your side.
The oldest Sawyers would be more careful with what they say to your dear Bubba when you're around, in fear of angering you and earning themselves an ax to the face.
Bubba would frequently point at random objects or spots and ask for you to throw the axe and hit them. Sometimes as a way to playfully 'test' your aim.
He would celebrate your bullseyes with you and would even carry you and spin you around. So cute.
You would also accompany him more often to deal with the 'passerby’s'
If you offered to teach him or even play a small game he would be a bit hesitant at first, scared that he would end up hurting you.
But would then ease in after much reassurance.
In conclusion, Bubba would even go as far as to encourage his s/o's love for axe throwing ❤️
Jason Voorhees 💛
Now this man,
THIS Man would be the most concerned out of the three.
In the beginning, he wouldn’t even let his s/o near any of his own weapons in fear that they might get hurt.
if he could, I bet he would go as far as to baby-proof the whole cabin. THE WOODS!
So how does his S/O achieve using their skill?
After countless of begging and nagging of course.
You'd have to convince this man and reassure him that you won't get hurt.
This would take months 🧍🏻‍♀️
But eventually, he would break.
At first, you'd have to agree to only use an axe under his supervision.
Surprisingly, he would let you choose any of the many types of axes he has in storage,'left behind' by campers 👁, as long as it wasn’t to heavy or something, you didn’t pay attention to what he was signing because you were to busy checking out all the cool axes.
You chose a dope ass tomahawk
There would be a designated throwing range/area for you designed and approved by him.
He would mark targets on trees and hang objects for you to hit.
He would also make you wear gear that campers 'left behind'👁
Gloves,steel-toed boots, and even a climbing helmet wtf
But you'd go along with it as long as you got to throw a darn axe
When you finally, FINALLY, get to throw an axe, he's sweating bullets and all worried.
But you throw that thing like there's no tomorrow and hit the furthest away target dead in the center.
He just stands there like 🧍🏻‍♀️
After a couple of throws and bullseyes, he becomes a bit less worried, JUST A BIT. He still all mother hen on ya.
After a while, he would let up and let you throw without having on more protection that the pope's security team.
Aaaaand eventually without him watching over you like a hawk.
But what really loosens him up was when you'd use your skill on a trespassing camper.
One had been tougher than expected and fought back, bodyslamming into Jason and gaining the upper hand.
The camper was about to stab Jason with his own machete,
but dearest oh dearest,
you chopped that mofos hand (unlike with Drayton) with one clean throw before he could hurt your man.
The stunned silence that came out of our Jason was louder than his usual silence.
After that whole situation, Jason allowed you to join him as a 'scout' to deal with campers.
He's still all panicky about it but learns to trust you and your skill.
With all that being said, Jason would learn to accept his s/o's love for axe throwing ❤️
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I just noticed that i wrote about three slashers that mostly don't talk.
I took some artistic liberties on this one.
If you guys have any requests, feel free to send them my way. MUAH!
~👻
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Hey I'm wondering if you could make a part2 to the please don't leave brahms heelshire,you just have really good writing but if you don't want to it's up to you, your choice.
It’s already in the works 🤭 I’m just working on some other stuff, but I’ll probably be posting part 2 soon. Thank you!!!
~Deja👻
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Having to write two characters who absolutely despise each other be the love interests for your MC’s poly relationship, really is a mental workout.
I’d appreciate some help *
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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*makes a smart character* *realizes im the one who has to make them smart*
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Creepypasta Writing 🔪❤️
Reading guide:
SFW-💕
NSFW-🖤
Angst-💔
Fluff-💜
Requests are opened 🔪
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Series
As above so below (currently being re-written)
One-shots
Soothing Hands (Tim/Masky x GN ProxyReader) 🖤
Linger (Jane the killer X Fem!Reader) 🖤
Headcanons
Song pairings
Part 1 💕
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Soothing Hands—Creepypasta One-shot [SMUT]
Pairing: Tim(Masky) X Proxy(GN)Reader
Summary: Reader has been suffering from back pain and Tim comes up with an idea to help.
WARNINGS: NSFW(fingering, oral, unprotected sex), some fluff, Praise kink, pet names, teasing, body worship? pleasure dom Tim? slightly sub reader?. I suck at warnings. ['g-spot' is unisex/GN], Language, MINORS DNI. Tim being an absolute sweetheart for his s/o. Big strong Tim makes brain go burr
Wordcount: 3000+
Notes: This is my first time actually posting smut :\ never had the guts to put it out there. Please let me know what you think. Muah :*
[This fic has not been proofread. Please ignore my grammar and punctuation mistakes English is not my first language]
tim/Masky simps come get yo juice
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"I fucking hate this job". You grumble under your breath as you, not so effortlessly, drag the bloodied body of an unfortunate trespasser through the dark Slender forest, all while your back and neck scream in pain due to the strain on your muscles.
"I don't think this counts as a job if we don't get paid for it". Tim replies with a low chuckle at your side whilst effortlessly carrying a body over his shoulder. He makes it look so easy and it only contributes to your bad mood.
"Here should be fine", The masked proxy says and drops the body from his shoulder "Rake should be able to sniff them out". You follow along and set the bodies together.
"We should get going before he decides we are also on the menu," you tell the brunette while wiping the mud and blood from your gloved hands. Tim does the same and the both of you turn back and begin to make your way towards the mansion you had begun to call home.
"Ugh, I need a hot bath". You exclaim with a heavy sigh while rubbing the back of your sore neck, trying to ease some of the tension in your muscles.
Being a proxy for the Slenderman was a very demanding "occupation" if it could even be called that, so you were constantly left with aches and sores that seemed to never go away. For the past weeks, you’ve had a particularly constant back pain that had been making your life more miserable.
"Your back still giving you issues?". Tim asks and momentarily shifts his gaze towards your sulking form.
"It feels like it's never going away". You complain and kick a stick from your path. The crunching of leaves and twigs snapping beneath both of your boots fill the quiet cold night of the forest. The both of you walk in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Tim breaks it.
"If you'd like, I could come by your room later and rub your back for you". He suggests and turns to you.
You stop in your tracks and It takes you a couple of seconds to process his request. You study his body language, waiting for him to laugh or show any signs of it being some sort of dirty joke. But he was sincere and showed genuine concern. You blink a couple of times behind your own mask before finally replying.
"W-well it does sound nice, but aren't you busy later?". You ask rubbing the back of your neck, and this time not because of the pain.
"I can ask Brian to finish some of my tasks, he owes me a solid for covering for his ass last time he wanted to take the day. That way I can have more time with you". He replies with a shrug.
Your face heats up at his casual response and you thank the lord for your face covering. While Tim wasn’t the big affectionate type, he would show his love for you in acts of service. He also wasn’t the most available person timewise, so his offering to make time for you stirred something in you.
"Then I'll be waiting for you". You happily reply.
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It had been a couple of hours since you returned to the mansion. You finished one last task before you headed to your room to take a very much-needed bath and rest up. Tim on the other hand, still had other things to do, so he had been out for the past 3 hours or so.
But as promised, before the night ended, the proxy made his way to your assigned room. Tim knocked on your door in a familiar pattern, letting you know it was him before he slowly opened your door and entered.
You were lounging on your small beanbag in the corner of your room sketching away in your notebook, having only your desk lamp on for illumination. Some rock music turned to a low-volume played on your phone. You turn at the sound of your lover entering your room.
Tim greets you with a soft 'hey' as he takes off his sand-colored jacket and hangs it. He then takes off his mask and places it on your nightstand.
"Hi". you greet him with a smile once he turns his unmasked face in your direction, his handsome rough features barely lit by the light of your lamp. "Brian cover for you?".
"He was bitchin' about it, but yea". He replies while kicking off his boots and placing them by your door. The both of you would often spend the night in each other’s room, so you kept spare clothes around for sleeping. Tim made his way to your dresser and grabbed some clean clothes. "I got this from the infirmary, Doc Smiles said it's good for muscle pain relief," Tim says. He takes out a small bottle from his pocket and tosses it to you. You catch it and inspect it closely. The words "sore muscle" and "relief" are like music to your ears.
"This better work because I'm ready to rip my spine out". You tell him with a hopeful sigh.
"Alright then c'mon", Tim, now in fresh clothes, offers out his hand for you to stand. You put your sketchpad down and take his hand. After your bath, you had changed into one of Tim's shirts that fit pretty loosely on your form, and a pair of comfy sleeping shorts. Tim guides you to your bed and lets go of your hand once you're at the edge.
"Lay down and get comfortable". He says with a soft adoring smile that filled your tummy with butterflies and lightly guides you with a hand on your hip. Gentle Tim is something that never fails to get you flustered.
You comply and lay face down and rest your crossed arms and chin on your pillow. You feel the left side of your bed slightly dip under Tim's weight as he sits on the side. You hear the 'pop' of the lotion bottle and feel him shift. Tim's hands are gentle as he places them on your back to lift your shirt just above your shoulders.
"Where does it hurt most?". He asks while slowly gliding his cold hands on your exposed back, making you shiver at the contact. This earns you a soft chuckle from the brunette.
"T-there". You say with a slight grunt as he touches the sorest part of your lower back. Tim hums in acknowledgment and removes his hands from your back to reach for the lotion. He squeezes some onto his hands and rubs them together before placing them back on your back. You’re immediately hit by a soothing cool sensation and you let out a sigh of relief. He begins to slowly rub your back and you can't help but let out another sigh.
"Feels good?". Tim asks with a smirk on his face. The slight menthol scent reaches your nostrils and relaxes you even more.
"Feels like heaven". You manage to mumble out, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow. Tim chuckles once more at your reaction.
He continues to work the lotion all throughout your back, massaging the knots out of your muscles.
"You should consider ditching the whole killing thing and become one of those massage therapists". You say and look back at him over your shoulder.
"If I did, then whos going to do my job?". He asks with a smug smile adorning his features as he continues his motions.
"You said this wasn’t a job if we don't get pa-aaaid ah!" Your sentence is cut off by a moan of pleasure when Tim applies comfortable pressure to your most affected area. You shut your eyes and your face burns when you hear Tim's deep chuckle as he continues to manipulate the muscles. You fail to conceal another slightly louder moan as he goes over the sore spot. The sounds you make combined with your face contorted in pleasure send heat to certain parts of Tim's body and seem to please him even more than you.
His hands begin to drift lower on your body and it sends blood rushing to your sensitive parts. You feel the bed shift and the heat of Tim’s breath hit your exposed upper back.
"You really have been in pain haven't you?". He asks, his voice low and deeper. There's a hint of concern and guilt in his tone. But you can't help but focus on his warm breath against your skin.
Tim brings his lips down and tenderly kisses your skin. The stubble on his chin softly scratches at your skin and sends sparks throughout your body. All your can manage is a weak “mhm” while he rubs lower down your back.
Tim places another gentle kiss further down your back while slowly moving his hands just above the waistband of your shorts.
"I should've asked for a massage sooner ahh~" you tell him between breaths. Tim's lips move lower and so do his hands.
"You shouldn’t have to ask. I'm the one that should’ve offered sooner. It's clearly been affecting you". He speaks lowly, his apologetic undertone pulls at your heartstrings. But the thought of how much he cares for you drives you crazier. Tim's hand motions momentarily stop and he shifts up, closer to your head.
"Let me make it up to you", He breathes into your ear and moves his large hands lower, gently caressing your ass through your shorts. "How's that sound, doll?".
You can't help but let a whimper escape your lips as he massages you a bit firmer. Your skin heats up and you can feel yourself become more turned on.
"Can I take care of you? Replace the pain with pleasure? You want that, baby?". He asks. His voice is husky and he's breathing a bit heavier. Almost pleading for an answer. Hoping that you’d let him alleviate your stress. That you’d let him be the one to help you.
Your heart races and unable to formulate words, you whimper out a soft 'yes'. Tim breathes out a soft relieved sigh and moves to kiss the back of your neck a couple of times. His hands continue to kneed your bottom but become a bit firmer with each kiss.
"I'll take good care of you, beautiful".
You let out a surprised gasp when he teasingly nips at your flesh with his teeth, but it turns into a moan when his hands palm at your heat through your clothing.
You bury your face into your pillow and hug it harder when his hand slides beneath your shorts. You can hear his breath hitch when his hand doesn’t come into contact with more fabric.
"No underwear huh?", He lowly chuckles as his fingers brush between your thighs and the exposed flesh around your entrance. "You really wanted this didn’t you?".
Your cheeks flush redder, if even possible. You'd be lying if you said the idea of having your back rubbed by Tim would end up in sex never crossed your mind. Besides, it wouldn’t have hurt to remove extra clothing just in case.
Tim removes his hand from beneath your clothing, but before you can whine out in protest, he takes a hold of the waistband and tugs down your shorts, the cold air hitting you in a flash. Tim couldn’t help but internally chuckle and admire the goosebumps along your newly exposed flesh.
"Cold?", He asks. "Don't worry baby, I'll warm you up real soon". He soothes and palms the tender flesh of your ass, warming you up and getting rid of the goosebumps as promised. Tim then brings his fingers up to his mouth, coating them with saliva, before bringing them near your entrance.
You inhale a sharp breath as he slowly slides one thick finger into your entrance and slowly begins to pump in and out, before adding a second digit. Your walls clench around his fingers, pulling a groan from the brunette, while they continue to slowly work in and out of your sex.
"You feel pretty warm to me. You sure you cold?". He teases. You can only respond with low muffled moans as his slick fingers spread you open.
His pace quickens and you cry out his name when his fingers hit that spot inside you that makes you fall apart. Your hips jerk back onto his hand and move against his fingers, following his pace. You moan out in pleasure as you chase your climax. You can feel the spring coil within your core and your walls trembling.
"That's it, baby, let go". Tim coaxes you while trying to hold back his own moans. "F-f-f-uck, you're doing so good".
His praise is the final straw before you feel the spring snap, and come undone around his fingers. Your muscles tense and your strangled moans are swallowed by your pillow as the waves of pleasure overtake you.
"There you go", He says while keeping a steady pace, letting you ride your climax. "Relax, beautiful".
Once you slowly came down from your high, Tim's fingers slide out of you. You cant help the small whimper you let out due to the sudden loss.
"Shh it's okay, baby, I got you". He soothes and carcasses your soft flesh.
You feel the bed shift and his body move away from your side. But before you can question him, a moan rips from your throat when you feel his tongue on your heat.
Using his hands to spread apart your legs, Tim laps at your entrance and hums against your sensitive flesh as he saviors your orgasm on his tongue, sending waves of pleasure to your core.
"Ready for more already?". He teases against your flesh. His tongue moves in slow flicking motions against your sex.
"P-please..." You breathe out through clenched teeth as you feel the pleasure between your legs.
"Please? Please what? Tell me what you need, beautiful". He says before delivering a deliciously long slow stroke.
"Tim ahh~!" You cry out his name and arch your back, bringing your heat closer to him.
"Alright, baby, I'll take care of it" He murmured. His body shifts once more and this time you look over your shoulder as Tim starts to remove his shirt revealing his softly sculpted torso. You admire the hair on your lover's strong chest for a few seconds before your eyes move lower and land on the large tent in his sleeping bottoms. You can barely make out the small damp precum spot by the tip of his erection. His eyes immediately shift to yours at the sound of your whimpering and catch your line of sight
"This what you want, baby?" he moves his hand to palm himself through the fabric of his clothes "You want my cock inside you?" He asks.
"Please, Tim", You cry "I need you". You push your ass up towards him. Begging for him to come closer and give you what you need.
"How can I deny my baby anything when they look so beautiful and so ready for me?", His words go straight to your core and pull a soft moan from your throat.
After what feels like painfully endless teasing, Tim finally moves closer to you. His hands tug down at his bottoms, freeing his cock from its confines, and kicks off the piece of clothing. You make a mental note to burn those darn sleeping pants later.
"I'm keeping my word and taking the best care of you" Tim groans and gives his length a few pumps. "So now, let's fix that pretty back of yours".
You turn your head back to grip your pillow as you feel Tim's strong arms take a hold of your hips, pushing your ass up and pulling your body closer to him with ease. You both let out a moan as his cock rubs against your entrance. Thanks to your previous release and Tim's saliva, you're nice and lubed up for his next move.
"You're so ready for me". He says and guides his cock closer to your sex. With one last stroke, he slowly sinks down into your opening. You let out another synced moan as his cock is swallowed by the warmth of your walls.
After a few seconds of adjusting, Tim pushes your back down with one hand, pressing your chest further against the mattress, and pulls your bottom half even closer up to him with the other, making you rest your weight on your knees rather than your thighs. You feel the muscles in your back deliciously stretch at his action and let out a loud moan. You can only pray that all the household members are still out doing their tasks.
"That feels good, baby?" He asks and gives one quick thrust, fully sinking his whole length into you.
"YES! ahh~ yes!". You cry at the sharp weave of pleasure and frantically shake your head at his question.
The sight of your pleasured distress makes Tim's cock throb deep inside you. His chest fills knowing that he's the one ridding you of pain and discomfort, the one making you feel good.
"Please, baby". you basically beg, breaking him out of his trance.
Not wanting to deny you pleasure, Tim rocks his hips against you and begins a slow but rhythmic pace as his cock deliciously stretches your walls. The room is filled with the erotic sound of skin slapping along with your combined cries of pleasure.
"Just ah~ look at you. So beautiful". Tim grunts between thrusts. You cry out louder when his cock slightly rubs against your core. Knowing just what you need, Tim picks up the pace and thrusts deeper into you. The familiar spring inside your core begins to coil once again. "I'll give you what you need, baby".
Tim's arm reaches for your pillow and slightly lifts up your bottom half by the waist, just enough to allow the pillow space to rest between the bed and your pelvis. Your cheek presses directly on the mattress and your back arches, even more, pushing your ass closer to him.
This new angle allows for the tip of his cock to hit your g-spot directly. He then places one hand on each side of your head, successfully caging your body beneath his broad frame and allowing him to anchor his powerful thrusts.
The pleasure becomes almost unbearable as Tim pounds into your sex at a brutal pace. You claw at your bedsheets and you cry out in pleasure, mostly consisting of Tim's name and incoherent words. Your walls flutter around Tim's cock and the coil threatens to snap.
"Go ahead, baby", Tim presses his head against your upper back and nuzzles into you, his sideburns and stubble scratch at your flesh. "Cum on my cock"
With a final few deep thrusts from his cock, you reach your peak with one last cry. Tim continues to plunge into your hole as you ride your second orgasm of the night. Your vision blurs and your body is encased in ecstasy that sends shivers all through you. You can feel his length twitch inside you and his pace becomes slightly reckless.
Tim's orgasm is not far behind. Your walls convulsing around his cock pull him further in, and with one final thrust, he becomes undone inside you. You feel his body tense above you and he buries his head in your neck. Moaning out your name along with a couple of praises and kisses as he fills your insides with his release.
Tim holds that position for a few minutes and once the both of you have regulated your breathing, he slowly pulls out of you and a soft moan escapes the both of you at the loss of connection. Tim gives a few kisses to your back, checking up on you before raising from the bed and fetching a damp rag to clean you up, littering feather-light kisses along your sensitive flesh. He then cleans himself up and puts on a different pair of sleeping pants.
Once you regain the strength to finally move, you pull Tim's shirt back down your body, and turn to face your partner. A love drunken smile is plastered along his handsome features as he takes in your relaxed form.
"You look so beautiful" You whisper with a lazy smile of your own and reach out towards him with grabby hands. He immediately complies and lays beside you, pulling you into his strong arms.
"Look whos talking", He groans into your hair and caresses your skin, "You're the one that looks like they can give an angel a run for their money".
You cuddle into each other and you lay your head against his chest, listening to the still softly playing music combined with his steadying heartbeat, before a small giggle escapes your lips.
"What is it?". Tim asks you with a chuckle that rumbles from his chest.
"My back doesn’t hurt anymore". You perk up with a giggle.
The both of you pause for a few silent seconds, before bursting into a fit of laughter.
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BONUS:
"No fair". A very grumpy Brian grumbles under his breath.
After complying and paying back his owed favor, the yellow hooded man tiredly sulks up the last few steps and onto the floor he shares with the rest of the proxies and heads towards his assigned room in the Slender mansion.
A series of muffled cries and groans make him stop in his tracks when he passes your room. Immediately knowing what that indicated, the proxy lets out a stream of curses.
"You fucking white-masked bastard!!" He growled before stomping off to his room.
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I may or may not have gone crazy on this one. The word count is crazy for such filthy writing.
Let me know if you have any ideas, suggestions, or requests.
Love- Deja 👻
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Will chapter 4 of your Brahms fanfic be coming out soon I loved reading it 🥺
Thank you so much!! I'll be releasing the next chapter soon! sorry for the long wait <3
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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omw to download more cc
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I will be held accountable for my actions one day
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Don't leave me-Brahms Heelshire X(F)reader
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THIS IS A WIP of a REQUEST from a friend. They asked me to post it because I wouldn’t unless I liked it but I don’t 🧍🏻‍♀️ and it’s been way too long in their opinion (I’m being held at g*n point to finish editing this) It has not been fully proofread and contains MANY errors but they wanted me to post it so bad, so now they get trash :P. One day I’ll finish it 👋
TW:Gore/violence/blood/mentions of child loss.
Part 2
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“Don’t leave me!”
His scream echoes in your ears as you run towards the estate gates. Your feet, bare, dig through the hard gravel, adding small cuts to the flesh. Your lungs burn and scream for oxygen, but you try to ignore it and push through it. The stinging cold English air seeps through the thin long sleeve shirt and long skirt you're wearing, making it even harder to breathe. But you don't stop. Only minutes ago, an earth-shattering secret was revealed to you.
Brahms is alive.
He has been alive for the past 20 years or so. His death was faked. He’s been living in the manor walls this whole time. The same one you had been living in. All this time he had been there when you thought you were alone. He’s been watching you. You had been taking care of a life-size porcelain doll that was the embodiment of the so thought dead 8-year-old son of the Heelshires. But they lied. He didn’t die in that fire years ago. They hid the truth and now you are paying the price. You followed the schedule and cared for the doll just like you had been hired to do so for the past weeks. You pitied the old couple and did your best to comply with their wishes. You treated the doll like a real boy as best as you could, to the point where you even grew a bit attached to it. But now, all that’s left are its shattered remains.
It had been a normal day. You followed the schedule and cared for the doll. It all went smoothly, boring even. You had grown accustomed to life in the huge manor. It became easy. By dinner time, meal preparations were interrupted by a noise in the billiards room, whom you had thought was just Malcolm, who had forgotten to deliver something or just paying you a random visit
“There you are”
Cole's voice made your blood rush to your feet when you entered the room. You stared at him as he casually played pool and hit the white pool ball with the cue stick, making the sound of resin clashing fill the room as it collided with the other pool balls.
“It was a pain in the ass to find you,” He said, then turned to look into your eyes while pointing at you with the cue “But I got ya' now”
Your grip on the doll tightened and you watched him stand up to his full height. Fear slowly seeped into your bones as you took in the gravity of the situation. You had been avoiding him for months and even traveled to another country just to get away from him. He was a monster. He’d hurt you. You had even called the police on him and got a restraining order against him. But there he was, standing a few feet from you and threatening to take you back.
“Go get your stuff. I got us last-minute tickets and we need to board in about an hour.”
He ordered while standing inches from your face. You stared down at the floor as your body was screaming for you to move and do as he had said in order to prevent being hurt. But something in you had changed. Five months ago, you would’ve obeyed out of fear. You would’ve done anything to avoid a slap or a punch. But that fear started to wither. Being away from him and being alone for so long made you feel safer. Made you feel confident. Stronger.
“No…” you muttered softly
“What?” He said with slight disbelief and a puzzled face. It wasn’t the response he expected. Thinking 'had heard you wrong?' “What did you say?”
You lifted Your head to meet his angry gaze. It was almost impossible to hold eye contact with him. To look the devil in the eye. But you pushed on.
“I said I’m not going anywhere with you” you spoke more confidently and watched surprise cover his features. Something sparked inside you and all the fear left your body.
But it was a mistake. It blinded you from reality. You had no chance against him. You weren’t going to get away with it. There was no way you could’ve stopped him as he suddenly lunged at you and reached for your neck. As his hands circled your throat and tightened, instantly blocking your airway. And In an attempt to push his arms away, you let go of the doll in your hold. Your eyes widened at the sound of shattering porcelain.
“Br-a-hms..” You choked out in a plea. The doll you had been caring for as If it were your own child, was shattered into million pieces beneath your feet, digging into the soles of your shoes. You could hear the porcelain crunching beneath Cole’s boots as you struggled against each other. Your nails dug into his clothed forearms and you scratched with all the strength you could muster, slightly ripping the fabric and piercing his skin. Warm liquid gathered under your fingers as you tried to loosen his hold on you. But he was stronger. It was useless. Tears filled your eyes from both the lack of oxygen and clear realization. Cole was going to kill you. He was crushing your windpipe and you weren’t able to breathe. Numbness began to overtake you and all you could hear was your blood pulsing loudly in your ears. You began losing consciousness.
But before your eyes could fully close, you felt your body being pushed away followed by a sharp pain on your side from coming into contact with the hard floor. You began to gasp at the rush of cold air rushing to your lungs. It stung painfully and felt like you had swallowed fire. Wheezing, you rubbed at the sore spot on your neck, trying to alleviate the pain from Cole's crushing hold. You turned at the distorted sound of grunting and objects being broken as the ringing in your ears slowly began to lift. When your vision fully cleared, what you saw would only stop your breathing once again.
There, a few feet from you stood a tall man you had never seen before. He wore dirty-looking clothing and no shoes. What surprised you the most was the white doll-like mask he wore. It also looked dirty and cracked. You could barely make out dark bloodshot eyes that were slightly covered by dark disheveled curls. His chest was rapidly rising and falling, as he stared down at Cole’s struggling body. Cole looked distorted but was still attempting to get up.
You glanced behind the two men, at a large hole in the wall where a tall mirror once stood against the wall. Its glass shards were scattered all over the floor and tables. The inside of the wall was unexpectedly hollow and had what appeared to be a small hallway. A raspy cough unexpectedly ripped through your throat, making the masked man look in your direction, giving you a better look at the porcelain covering on his face. It was weirdly similar to that of the doll's face. You could also see lifted flesh along one side of his neck, all the way up and beneath his mask. You recognized it as burn scarrings. You shifted your gaze along his mask and your eyes locked with his— It only took you a fraction of a second to connect the dots.
The weird rules. The strange sounds around the house. The way the doll seemed to be moving on its own and your stuff disappearing. The mysterious fire that killed the Heelshires son. The man's mask having an uncanny resemblance to the doll.
His mask looked like Brahms because he was Brahms. He was alive and had been standing a few feet from you and staring at you.
Cole had recovered and lunged for his torso, pushing him to the ground and pinning him with his legs. A pained grunt left Brahms and you could see Cole digging something into his abdomen. Cole then lifted a bloodied fist, but before he could land a punch at Brahms's face, he was harshly shoved to the floor. Brahms was faster than him and took a hold of his hair, slamming Cole’s face to the floor and regaining the upper hand.
Cole was then face down on the floor with Brahms's body on his back and was being pinned down. His face was being lifted with great force then violently slammed down onto the floor with strength you had never witnessed. You swore the wood floors began to splinter at the force. His face was getting bloodier and more beaten. With each hit of his head to the ground, a memory of Cole's unforgiving actions flashed through your head:
The controlling Behavior
Smack
The verbal abuse
Smack
The punches and kicks
Smack
The loss of your child
SMACK
You closed your eyes as louder cracks reached your ears. It was most likely Coles skull cracking, and breaking with it, was the last chain he had over you. It was being shattered into pieces. Like he had done to your self-esteem. To your dreams. To you.
You opened your eyes when the banging stopped and the view almost made you gag. Cole's face was unrecognizable. His eyes were completely sealed shut by his swollen flesh, his nose disfigured, teeth broken and missing. Blood was everywhere. On his face. On his clothes. On the floor. On Brahms.
You stared at his blood-covered hands as he released Cole’s head and let it drop one last time. Trying to avoid the view, your eyes shifted to Brahms’s abdomen and caught a glimpse of a large bloodied stain on his dirtied white shirt. A piece of something dark was lodged into his flesh. Cole must’ve stabbed him with a piece of wood, you thought. Your thinking was interrupted when Brahms suddenly turned to you and made you jump at the sudden focus of attention. Chills ran up your spine at the sound of your name being called in that childlike voice you had heard before. The same one that had you thinking you had gone mad for hearing a child’s voice in the halls and through the phone. You went as far as to believe that the ghost of Brahms was roaming around the manor and calling out for you. But there he was. Alive.
"Are you okay?"
His concerned voice, which was mixed between high and low pitches, broken by his heavy panting, brought you back to reality. Cole was dead. Brahms killed him. He took him down within a few minutes and was obviously way stronger than him. Stronger than you.
Brahms’s didn’t move from his position on top of Cole's, now dead body, as his eyes scanned your exposed neck. You could see a pool of emotions swirl within his eyes when he looked at your marked neck before he turned his gaze away from you. And you took it as a chance to move and slowly stood up. His head quickly shot up at the sound of your movements and you froze before you could fully straighten up. Panic reflected on his eyes and he quickly scattered to stand up as well—but before he could, you ran.
Fear engulfed you once more and you sprinted to the closest exit and into the hallway. But before you could enter the foyer, two strong arms wrapped around your torso, stopping you and pulling you back. Your back was slammed against Brahms’s chest as he held you tight. Brahms let out a low grunt from the impact to his wound. But you kicked forward and clawed at his forearms for release.
"Let me go!!" You cried out. Your voice was hoarse and broken from the earlier abuse to your neck, making screaming painful. It seemed to have caught Brahms’s attention because his grip on you slightly loosened. You wasted no time and used the distraction as an opportunity to slam the back of your head to his face and pushed his arms away from your body. He stumbled backward but you didn’t bother to look behind you at his grunting form and continued to run towards the front door. Once you finally reached it. Locked.
"Nononono!" You cried in a panic as you pulled on the door handle. But it didn’t budge. It had been locked and the key that was usually inserted in the keyhole was no were to be found. You heard footsteps behind you and quickly turned. Brahms halted a few feet from you. His chest rising and falling and dark eyes staring at your distressed form.
You didn’t waste a second and darted towards the stairwell to your right. Going up two steps at a time. You had to get away from him. You didn’t know what he would do to you.
But you had seen what he was capable of.
He had just turned Cole's face into a pulp without much of a fight. He was much stronger than the man you had struggled against for months. You were in greater danger. Your body filled with a mixture of adrenaline and fear that fueled your movements.
As you continued running up the staircase, the lack of steps behind you didn’t go unnoticed. Still, you continued towards the first opened room you spotted once you reached the second level. When you entered, your eyes first landed on the moved panels off the wall. A familiar-looking hallway could be seen inside, just like the one behind the mirror from downstairs. Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He was chasing you from within the walls. That's how he was able to reach you so fast. The sound of movements inside the walls and rapidly approaching shadows shook you out of shock and your body rushed to push the closest dresser towards the opening. The heavy wood tilted to the ground and landed with a loud thud in front of the opening, successfully blocking him off.
You shot towards the hallway once more, set towards the kitchen, in order to exit through the back door. But before you could reach the stairs, you heard heavy steps in that direction. Brahms was fast. He was able to be on the other side of the house in a matter of seconds, even while wounded. When you heard his steps near, you ran towards a second room. You had no plan on what to do and were simply choosing flight instead of fighting. It was obvious you couldn’t put up much of a fight. His footsteps sounded right behind you but you didn’t turn until you entered the room. You quickly went to shut the door, but a hand reached between the crevice and Brahms pushed the door open. You tried to slam the door back and pushed your whole body weight against the door, but it wasn’t helping you much.
You slipped back slightly and it allowed Brahms to push his head between the opening. You quickly looked around the room for something that could help. An old telephone on the table right next to you caught your eye. You quickly reached to grab for it, and with all your strength, you slammed it against his head, making Brahms slightly stumble backward and his strength faltered. You quickly shut the door and locked it. You then moved the table in order to block the door. You took a step back, panting, looking at the door.
"Ah!"
You yelped when the door handle started to violently shake. Brahms began to pull and pound on the door. You quickly turned and ran towards the window. You gripped the edge and with all your strength tried to lift it. Bit it didn’t even move one bit. Mr. Heelshire's words rang through your head while you continue to struggle to push the window open.
"Regrettably, the last tradesman we had, managed to paint the windows shut"
"FUCK!" you cursed out in defeat. You stepped away from the window, your hands gripping your hair in frustration, and tears threaten to form in your eyes. The door handle continued to shake and the banging only intensified. You searched around the room one last time, looking for another way out. Then, a small light caught your eye. It came from between a panel in the walls that had been slightly moved. You bolted towards it and pushed it aside. You kicked off your shoes to soften the sounds of your steps before unhesitatingly ducking inside the walls. You quietly but quickly slipped into the small hallway. The banging noise became faint as you slid deeper inside the walls Brahms had used to move about the house. Both the thought and the cold from the wooden floor sent shivers up your spine.
You didn’t know where you were going. You just wanted to put as much distance between you and Brahms as you could. You were afraid. Cobwebs wrapped around you and the smell of dust reached your nostrils. Thin rays of light seeped between tiny cracks in the wall. Once you turned for the third time, you came across a door that led to a small staircase that wrapped upwards. You quickly moved along the walls and up the staircase. You only slowed down when you stumbled upon a dimly lit room.
Your eyes danced around as took it all in. The room held everything someone needed to live. A small fridge, a microwave, and canned food on small shelves that also had plates and cutlery. A small sink with a mirror hung on the wall by bookcases. Many objects hung and were scattered around the place. You had been standing in the room Brahms had been living in for the past 20 years. You scanned the small place and your eyes caught a figure on a small bed by the corner.
"Is that... my dress?"
You whispered in disbelief. There on the bed, covered in a dress you had deemed lost, was a life-size doll made out of pillows. It was also wearing your locket and bracelet you struggled to find for days. The figure was meant to resemble you. Your hands shot up to cover your mouth in shock as disturbing thoughts ran through your head. You looked away and around more and found a stack of letters on a small table by the bed. You carefully reached for the top letter which was stamped by the Heelshires. Your eyes skimmed through the letter and your heart sank to my stomach.
The Heelshires had known all along that their son was alive. They lied to you. Not only that, but they were "giving" you to him to love and keep. And they would not be coming back. Bile rose to your throat. It was all too much to take in. your pulse quickened even more and you felt like fainting, but you couldn’t stop now. You took a step back and tried to calm down your body.
"What the hell is going on!" you snarled between your teeth, trying to keep your voice low. Everything was just taking a turn for worse. The Heelshires were most possibly dead and left you to deal with their adult son whom everyone thought had died in the fire. Not to mention he had just killed your abusive ex. And you didn’t know if he had been the only one he hurt. The thought made your skin crawl.
You had to keep moving because you could hear movements approaching the small room. You stuffed the letter in your skirt pockets and continued on up a small platform with stairs. There was a hole in the walls and a ladder that led down was against the opposite wall. You ducked inside and quickly began to descend. When you reached the bottom, you jumped through another cavity and continued moving inside the walls. More light seeped through the cracks. You stopped to look between the wood panels, trying to figure out your location. You scanned the room and figured you were on the bottom floor by a lounge room. The thought of Brahms spying on you through the gaps in the wood filed you with both uneasiness and anger.
Brahms's figure suddenly passed by your place in the wall inside the room as he searched for you and you yelped backward at the sudden appearance. Your back bumped the wall behind you, the noise alerted him of your position. He called out for you once more in the child's voice. But you didn’t respond. Instead, you continued to scuttle through the tight walls. As you entered a small room filled with pipes, you were startled by the loud sound of wood crashing and breaking. Brahms had run through the wall and inside the small room. you ducked under a big pipe and turned to see him pushing off wood boards from his body. You didn’t wait long and continued on through the tangle of pipes and away from him. You caught a glimpse of a small door with a keyhole letting moonlight seep through. You wasted no time and reached for it and pushed and pulled on the door in desperation, but it didn’t budge. You froze as Brahms called for you in that clear high-pitched child voice he imitated. The memories of the voice through the phone receiver and in the halls haunted your mind. His begging for you to "come out and play" when you locked yourself in your room upon first realizing the doll had been moving around. And the pb&j sandwich you thought a ghost prepared for you as some sort of a peace offering. you turned to look back at him as he called your name again.
"Come back" His voice cracked and lost that child pitch. You could only stare in fear at him crouching and peeking through the pipes that blocked him from reaching you. You didn’t know what he would do to me if he caught you but you weren’t about to wait and find out.
"I'll be good, I will" He begged between breaths. His voice was now that of a grown man. Deeper and more clear. He moved closer. "I promise"
"No!" You yelled back trembling. "Get away from me!"
He stopped his movements and seemed taken back by your volume. You turned to continue pushing the door and struggled with the doorknob.
"Get back here" He growled. His voice dropped lower and got closer to you as he slid under the pipe.
"No!" You screamed. Tears began to prickle your eyes in panic. You slammed your shoulder on the door to no avail. You then shifted your body and continuously kicked at the door as he continued to crawl closer to your struggling figure. His approaching sounds only fueled your kicks. With one last harsh kick, the door finally slipped open and you hurried to push it fully open.
"YOU GET BACK HERE!!"
Brahms screamed as you scurried out and landed on your arms and knees onto the foliage-covered ground. You took a last glimpse behind you at his rapidly approaching figure before you propelled yourself upwards and began to full-on sprint away from him. Twigs snapped beneath your bare feet as you scuttled through branches and bushes. When you cleared the brambles, your heart sunk at the sound of Brahms crying out.
"Don't leave me!!" His voice was loud but trembling. You swear you could almost hear the pain in his plea.
But you won't look back. You’re getting out of here. You can't let him catch you. He's going to hurt you just like he hurt Cole. He's trying to manipulate you just like Cole. Your mind is filled with the horrible things that Cole did to you and the fear only intensifies. You can't have that happening again.
Your body only moves faster when you see the gates approaching. Thunder rumbles and lightning illuminates your path as sharp raindrops fall against your face. A cold rush of wind pushes you towards the exit.
But your mind and body seem to be working against each other, because when you finally reach the gates,
You stop.
Heavy breaths pull from your lungs as many thoughts race through your mind. You had spent the past weeks living a lie. You dedicated your time to caring for a doll the Heelshires called son while their real son lived locked away, hiding between the walls. He has been devoided of the outside world for twenty years. He didn’t die and the fire was all a coverup. Malcolm had told you that Brahms was suspected of killing a little girl when he was only 8. But you couldn’t wrap your head around the possibility of a child ending another's life. Your heart hammers against your chest and you begin to feel dizzy. The Heelshires forced him to live within the walls of his own home and away from civilization. He was just a child. Your chest aches at the thought of a small scared child having to endure that. Even if he had been raised a spoiled kid that always had it his way, it wouldn’t prove that he was capable of killing another kid.
"It's not fair!"
You huff out in desperation and ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palms.
His parents most likely treated him differently now that he lived within the walls. By the scars you saw on his body, he was probably burned in the fire the Heelshires definitely started and they possibly even forced him to wear the mask. You can't even begin to think how horrible life has been for him all these years. He's not at fault. Yes, he killed Cole. But it’s possible he did it in order to protect you. You were the one to cry out for him. Cole would’ve killed you if he didn’t interfere. And he also got hurt in the process. For you. Cole stabbed him in the abdomen, maybe even impaled a major organ. He could die..
"Shit! No! NO! Stop it!" You curse at yourself in frustration and pull at the roots of your damp hair with your hands, digging your nails into your scalp.
You had been the one caring for him these past weeks. Even if you didn’t know he was alive and was babysitting a fucking doll, he was still relying on you to follow the schedule in order to survive. He tried to make you believe the doll was haunted, but only to ensure you didn’t discover his existence and followed the rules. Brahms Only wanted someone to care for him. This whole time, he hadn’t hurt you. What if he wasn’t trying to do so now. What if he's just scared you’ll abandon him like his parents did?
"I can't leave him...."
You take a deep breath and before you can step past the gates, you turn back towards the manor.
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Part 2
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dejafanwriting · 2 years
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Why rant when I can just meme?
[NOTE: THIS JUST IS MY OPINION!]
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