i love you?? and your writing???? so much??? youre so talented 💞
but uhhh i was just wondering if i could have platonic headcanons for Michael Myers, Chucky + Tiffany, and Beetlejuice?? like uh,,, maybe they just claim this frickinnn KID NSNSJ, or reluctantly becoming a parental/maternal figure towards a teenager (like 14-16 years old)
why they dont kill them or kick them to the curb is beyond me
sorry if this is a weird request??NSNS everything has gone to shit and it happened right when i got back into slashers so my emotional attachment issues made me latch onto the man, the myth, michael myers GABDNAJA its cringe, i know BUT UHHH YEAH THANK YOU FEEL FREE TO IGNORW THIS MWAH
thank you, that makes me so happy as an anxious, self-critical writer; you’re so sweet and it made my day to read that!!!
haha i love your request, i adore cool platonic ideas! i hope you’re doing okay, i absolutely feel the same at times, but know you’ve got me as your friend if you need anything! judgement free zone! anyhow, onto the fic below!
Platonic Slashers Begrudgingly (or not) Take in a Teen
(warnings for mentions of violence, blood, abuse, swearing, etc.!)
You’re an anomaly, a stranger, a potential victim.
But then why do you make his cold heart clench when you cry?
He is literally straddling a victim in a dark alleyway with his knife in hand and suddenly he sees you in the corner of his eye, frozen to the spot, rocking on the heels of your feet.
Michael whips his head around now that his victim is long-dead and turns his attention to you, the witness. You don’t run, staring at him with narrowed eyes.
“That guy was an asshole.” The words stun him, and that’s not easy to do. Your calm, disinterested demeanour causes him to hesitate, gripping the handle of his knife. Blood drips from his mask where the victim clawed at his face, smearing the white with bright crimson.
Michael starts towards you again, assessing you, head tilted. You’re young, but not a child. Somewhere in between, and you still aren’t running. It almost irritates him.
“I’m not endorsing killing or anything, and maybe you’re going to do me in next, but that guy had it coming.” You continue quietly. Michael keeps approaching, his movements barely making noise despite his huge frame towering over yours. “Foster dad. Drank a lot.”
Michael curses under his breath because you make him hesitate again, as he feels a pang of - what? Curiosity? Sympathy? Nonsense.
A siren wails nearby and Michael stops, inches from you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his sigh as he turns away and heads off.
- from then on, you have several more encounters and ask many annoying questions, but Michael treats you more like a street cat than anything else, ignoring you other than the occasional grunt or nod
- he finds he actually might kinda like having someone want to spend time with him, even if he’s literally crushing someone in his hands, you’re hanging out at a respectable distance waiting for him
- Michael does some healthy stalking and learns that you’re now living from house to house with friends or on the street, unwilling to return to the foster system, and he doesn’t like that
- eventually, he softens just enough that when you’re going to head off one night, he grabs your wrist and all but drags you to his home
- from then on, you’re his
- he teaches you everything he knows, you’re like his little apprentice, or his shadow
- Michael is super protective, he won’t show how much he has begun to care about you but the second you’re upset by someone, they disappear mysteriously
- matching costumes for Halloween??? i stan
- he sometimes treats you a bit more like a puppy, other times he is eager to show you the tricks of the trade to using a knife and being stealthy, or he will want to be left alone, it depends on his mood
- either way, you’re his kid now, and everyone knows not to mess with you
Chucky & Tiffany (pre-doll & post)
Chucky and Tiffany are in completely different mindsets when they find you.
You’re sat hunched in a booth alone in a diner they’re both eating at, Tiffany continually glancing your way. Chucky doesn’t notice until she kicks him under the table.
He curses and hits his hand on the table, shaking the glasses. Before he can lose his temper even further, Tiffany is jerking her head not-so-subtly to one side to tell him to turn around.
He does, and he sees you in a hoodie nursing a glass of flat soda. Chucky scoffs, resuming his meal by shovelling fries into his mouth. “And?” He drawls around the mouthful, making Tiffany scowl.
“They’re all alone! No food, poor babe, they’ve been sat there since we arrived! Lost little lamb.” She croons, her elbows on the table and head rested in her hands as she watches you over her lover’s shoulder. Chucky sours, jealous at the loss of attention.
A scuffle distracts them both and they shift their attention to the masked man who just walked in. He’s brandishing a knife in one shaky hand, jerking, whipping his knife around and demanding money.
Chucky rolls his eyes, unflinching. “Amateur.” He laughs. Tiffany shoots him a look, reaching for the cutlery knife on the table, just in case.
When the stranger, however, confronts you, it’s a different matter. Tiffany goes rigid when the man grabs your collar, shaking you and demanding cash. She stands up at once, heels squeaking on the linoleum floor.
Chucky, for all his bravado and pretending to ignore you, can’t help the sudden spike in protectiveness. Tiffany’s influence, no doubt.
Just as Tiffany has crossed half the distance to you, you surprise her. Your knee shoots out between the man’s legs and hits him square in the groin, followed by a right hook that sends him collapsing to the floor in a wheezing pile.
Nobody moves, except you. You pick up your bag and sigh, stepping over the man. Before you can leave, Tiffany places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey kiddo, wait a minute okay? You ain’t got no place to stay, huh?” Her voice is honeyed and like that of a mother hen soothing her young.
You nod in agreement, head low. Tiffany makes a noise of distress, pulling this sweet, spunky, surprising teen to her chest and holds you there.
Chucky appears and kicks the man in the chest for good measure, then looks at the two of you together. After a moment of Tiffany’s puppy eyes and your steely gaze, he cracks. “Fine! Get in the truck.”
- you’re their absolute prize
- after a few shorts weeks and demonstrating how much you know about life on the street, you impress Chucky enough that he allows you to stay
- Tiffany was won over from the beginning but she’s thrilled that he allows it
- you’re not going anywhere without one of them, they are so protective it’s crazy, and they will always make sure if you have to go somewhere alone that you’re prepared
- “Got your knife?” “What about the mace?” “Tell me again what you’re meant to do if a stranger approaches!”
- of course, they teach you their way of life too, and soon you’re a highly chaotic, perfectly functional family!
- post-doll, they rely on you a fair bit more for doing things they can’t do, and you’re good at pretending they’re just dolls so you can sneak them into places
- either way, doll or not, you guys are a surprisingly powerful trio!
Okay, this was never going to be an issue for him.
Beetlejuice finds you in one of the decrepit houses he enjoys frequenting to scare the goth kids who hang out there.
You’re all alone, reading a book with a school bag by your feet, sat on the dilapidated porch. He wants to scare you so bad, creeping up behind you, his combat boots falling soundlessly with careful steps. He’s so close to you when he notices you’re sniffling.
Not only that, but there are wet droplets on the book pages he can see from over your shoulder, drops from where you’ve been crying.
Beetlejuice isn’t particularly mushy, especially not for strangers, but something about you makes him pause. Maybe it’s because you remind him of himself when he was alive, and young, and lonely.
Instead of spooking you, he sits down heavily next to you and causes several of the wooden boards to groan in protest. You jump, moving away from him until you see the very-much-dead face smiling back at you.
“So, uh, what’s up kid? You drop your candy or something? Boy troubles? Girl troubles? Both?” He’s leaning forward like a schoolgirl awaiting gossip, eyes eager and curious. You can’t help but feel pulled into his attentiveness.
Wiping your eyes, you drop your gaze to your book, shaking your head. “Nothing, just some issues at home. This is the only place I can get some peace and quiet.”
BJ huffs, knocking the book from your hands so you’re forced to look at him. “Listen to me, sport, you’re just radiating mischief potential, and you’re wasting your creative little mind sat here crying over some losers who don’t deserve you anyhow!”
His pep talk takes you by surprise, and he uses the moment to haul you to your feet, a snake falling from his sleeve as he does so. He seems unperturbed by this, his eyes still locked excitedly to yours.
“I need a partner in crime, things been real stale lately, ya know? Need a fresh perspective!” He holds both of your hands in his, the cool skin soothing yours, a firm grip keeping you grounded and out of your own head.
“So, whaddya say? You come scare the shit out of some folks who deserve it, and I keep the assholes off your back - it’s a win-win!”
- you’re the most terrifying and perfectly suited pairing ever
- he has so many ideas and gets so excited, but you’re the one who keeps him calm, picking the best idea, astounding him with your own suggestions
- he takes you all over the place, but of course returns you back so you can continue with your schooling
- dessert nights and late night snacking are his favourite, especially when talking shit at the same time or watching some terrible television dramas
- BJ gets a tiny whiff of someone upsetting you and he’s there, haunting them for a solid week until they tremble at the sight of you
- unlike the others, he won’t reveal his terrifying, nightmare-inducing looks in front of you because he doesn’t want you to see him that way
- he loves you so much, he gets a whole bunch of stuff for your birthdays and Halloween with him is so wild because he can walk among the living without anyone looking twice at him
- well, at least your life will never be boring again!
