#ghostiesrequestsandasks

Thank you for the kind words, anon! Here is a little section of the current chapter-- a teaser if you will. I promise to update soon, my schedule has been extremely hectic but the chapter is coming along! Enjoy ;)

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“I dreamt about it again,” you murmur as Brahms pauses. “-of the greenhouse.” 

The teacup halts middair, dark eyes with an unreadable expression burning into you. The nightmares weren’t a surprise, always coming in the form of strained sobs in the dark. His arms always winding around your torso as you cry into the sheets, trying to soothe the aching memories from your skull– but to no avail. 

Silence stretches between you, and suddenly you regret speaking at all. A weighted sigh, a shift as the teacup rattles against the saucer while being set down as Brahms approaches. Fingers brushing your cheekbone, you fight the flinch building from the sting– bruise still tender. 

“I just…” you swallow thickly, trying to formulate the words. “I think there’s something out there.” Somewhere hidden across the solitude of the manor, you could almost swear something was amiss. But Brahms only tucks a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, brows furrowed at your paranoia. 

“It’s over. There’s no one out there.” Voice low, steady– as if he wants the words to be comforting. As if this could all be brushed under the rug, another secret buried within the walls of the manor. 

But you know better, something cold shivering down your spine as you tear your gaze away. 

Fingers curling under your jaw, heated breath fans across your face as Brahms sighs. Something akin to worry swims in his coffee orbs, touch anything but forceful– almost reverent while he traces your bruised skin as if you were made of glass. 

A silent plea embedded in the pads of his fingers– Look at me, trust me. Stay with me. 

You try to ignore the dirt caked underneath his fingernails, try to dismiss the smell of iron that creeps into your nostrils when you inhale, try to push away the unease churning in your throat– but no amount of scrubbing would wash the memories away. 

The hand wrapped around your throat. Blood seeping into your eyes as you clawed against your captors. Screams echoing across the glass so forcefully it rattled your bones. 

I love the way you make Brahms a more controlling and dominant character<3

My ask/ idea: Brahms and reader got a pretty 'unique' and close relationship. What if someone broke in and Brahms protected the reader or saved her or something, and I ended up giving her a kind of eye-opener for some other parts of him. Like she isn't only for him to use and abuse u know. But also to keep and protect

Thank you 🙏

AHHH this is impeccable. Perhaps a part 3 of “The Rules We…” series as a way for Brahms to redeem himself from the godforsaken acts that took place in the first two parts?

Anon, you have a wonderful twisted mind.

The scary thing about Brahms is he is so unpredictable. But the thing we do know for certain?

Break a rule, pay the price.

Because there is no privacy in the Heelshire manor– you know that now. Not when he’s there, watching your every move, waiting for you to slip. Always two steps ahead before you even realize you’ve fallen into another twisted game of his. The idea alone of your own personal boogeyman would have made you laugh at the stupidity of it all, but Brahms Heelshire was very much real.

Yet, in the false security of your room, you file away your deepest darkest secrets during the aftermath of that fateful night in the tunnels. It was the only place you told the truth, yet somehow as you write under the cover of moonlight, the walls had never felt so thin. 

Like it had already betrayed you.

The result?

The Rules We Break-- coming soon! Part two of The Rules We Keep, inspired by this wonderful request!

Imagine Albert and reader meet at her nephews birthday party where he was supposed to be a magician and the first thing she say to him is "You're a bad man... I can feel it." She's just straight up uncanny looking at him with big wide open eyes dressed in all black and saying crazy stuff to him like "You killed someone", "I can see the ghosts around you, boys..." She just tell him that she knows what he did/do then her sister the mother of the birthday boys come and shush her away and start to apologise to Albert telling him that her little sister (that is in her early 20s) is just weird and schizophrenic and that's from where the weird behavior comes from but little dose the mother know that her crazy sister is right (you can make it into Albert developing obsession with reader or whatever you want, I just though that having such errie reader would be fun, just something diffrent than what people usually write. And sorry for my english, I am not a native speaker... 🖤)

Holy moly anon, this matches with an idea sprouting in my head for WEEKS. I’ll raise the bar with you— the quiet, slightly crazy neighbor that everyone drones on about who has creepy visions and less than ideal social skills who is rumored to be schizophrenic?

You aren’t “crazy” or mentally ill like the murmurs suggest… you’re clairvoyant. A medium, if you will— a gift passed down from generations leaving you the black sheep of your family. But when you see Albert for the first time you just know that for once, no amount of backlash from your family is worth keeping this amount of darkness a secret.

I LOVE this idea… may or may not already be writing a draft. Thank you for the idea anon, you will be credited accordingly and updates will come soon!

I genuinely cannot begin to express how thankful I am for everyone’s kind words and support, knowing that others enjoy my writing is the best motivator in the world and I cannot thank you enough.

As someone who never started posting regularly until early this year, it is shocking to see how many people share my love of slashers and enjoy my takes on how deprived these men really are. It pushes me to test my limits as an author and allows me to share my dark and not-so-pure thoughts without judgement.

To all of those who have sent me inbox messages and have left comments on my writings, thank you for taking the time to provide feedback and analyze my work. And to those who have stumbled upon my works by chance and have stayed, thank you for choosing to support me!

You all have a very special place in my heart, and I cannot wait to share even more fics and drabbles with you all in the future. If you have an idea or want to spiral about slashers with me (or have any recommendations) I would love to hear from you.

Also, we are almost at 500 followers— like WHAT?! The slasher fans have truly risen up and made their stance on my works.

Sorry for the sappy content, not usually my forte but I had to just share my appreciation for everyone. As always, updates will come shortly, so grab a weapon and settle in.

They’re waiting for you.

You've come to the right place anon! I thoroughly cherish both movies, and the boys– I'm obsessed.

The lost boys have my heart, literally. Cigarette smoke, leather jackets, silver jewelry– they are the epitome of what every 'bad boy' aspires to be. David, always the leader, thinks of all the manipulative ways he can get you crawling back towards him– preferably on your knees. Dwayne is ever observant, content in watching the others tear you apart for his own amusement only to push you towards the breaking point to see those pretty tears. Marko's hotheaded nature is a force to reckon with, both sadistic and chaotic in the way that leaves your head reeling– it's best to stay on his good side if you want to prevent another feeding. And Paul? Paul is the most unpredictable of them all, any kind action quickly replaced by those dark desires he carefully hides beneath the surface. You were doomed the second they laid eyes on you.

Stalking within the shadows of Santa Carla only adds to their allure, yet the real reason to their suspicious actions would make anyone's skin crawl.

Maybe you always knew that deep down.

Maybe you find out their dirty little secret.

Maybe you were in the wrong place wrong time when they were ready to feed.

But now that they have their eyes on you, it's futile to escape. The boys never agree on anything. But sharing you? That comes naturally.

The Sinclair brothers, on the other hand, have very different end goals in mind. Motor oil, candle wax, gasoline– these brothers were built from the rough, so they don't play nice.

Ambrose is a ghost town, one full of lies and secrets buried beneath the layers of wax carefully painted on. All it takes is one missed turn, one blown-out tire, and suddenly you're the new attraction– one that's alive, at least.

Lester always spots you first, those fox-like eyes scanning the forest floor like he was made for the hunt, making sure you are exactly where they want you to be. Bo's charm slips as the white-hot temper festers beneath it all, hands practically begging to tear you to shreds and snuff out that defiance he finds so... distracting. And Vincent? Vincent is more than happy to take the broken pieces that are left and mold you into a masterpiece of blood, flesh, and tears. After all, it's what he does best.

Your request has been noted, I will be working on bringing our sexy poly vampires to life ASAP. And for the Sinclair boys... I have the perfect fic idea for them.

Thank you for your ask!!

They're waiting for you.