Brahms The Boy - Tumblr Posts - Page 5
I got bored and went on the slasher side of The cursed clock app and found this lovely lad! After actually watching the boy movie and a lot of fan edits of the skrungy wall man I made a character, started some fan fic (both writing and reading) and draw some fan art
The story I’m writing is called “within these walls”
Story summary
Clarence smith a 23 year old horror writer moves in to the heelshire house with his mortician parents Jonathan and Kristin along with his 17 year old songwriter sister June. All is well until one of Clarence’s flannels go missing and his sister starts to complain about knocking on the walls thinking it’s him. A unknown woman claiming to be the prevues owner shows up asking questions… where will this go what will the smith family do more immediately though what will Clarence do when he finds who else is in the house.
Also it’s like 3:23 and I made this.
Clarence was actually ment to be blond but this looked better.
I made more! This was ment to be with the other picture I made of these two but I didn’t finish in time. I did update Clarence so he doesn’t look like a baby no more
I also got the first chapter of my Brahms x my Oc Clarence done
So I’ve seen other people do this with the mr and mrs smith poster so I wanted to give it a shot with my favorite horror ship.
just found out people simp for Brahms and maybe it’s the fact that i hate porcelain dolls with a passion but i don’t like it
I like this one better, it's so fluffy.
THE BOY 2016
I enjoyed the movie for the first time. I was a little scared at first but when 'he' came out wow I feel safe now.
So I'm just gonna slide right in joining the slasher community just for halloween probably idk.
First attempt of stinky wall man.
Brahms taking half of the slasher community or probably just on tumblr.
THE BOY 2016
badass entrance thats all I gotta say.
I thought I might ruined it my head is literally on space. And just winged it.
THE BOY 2016
random doodle with
Brahms x Anon
THE BOY 2016
One paper full of Brahms. ✨
I can imagine him studying himself since I saw a lot of books in his little hideout and sometimes knock him out to sleep from his desk.
I know he plays violin but I don't think he'll immediately play when someone is watching except his parents.
Too 'shy' to play give him a little time.
Shy Boy offering a little flower (probably made out of paper since he doesn't go outside) showing no harm.
Glasses are attractive, right?
Why not him.
Side view
And the doll hardly looks like him.
boy, baby boy
Stinky ass berries and cream bitch. I love him.
Tea n’ crumpets
Yeeeeee
Bonus doodle of me <3
Who know who I'm gonna say don't u... (brahms)
They are bffs <3333
Taking Care of Brahms’ Wounds
Brahms Heelshire Oneshot
You often spent an hour or a few in the afternoon reading, and that is exactly what you were doing when a soft knock sounded just above your head. You turned around and gazed at the full body mirror attached to the wall adjacent to the bed. The mirror rattled lightly before being gently pushed to the side, a hand wrapping its fingers around the metallic runes of a mirror frame.
This was your and Brahms’ passage way between the house and the walls. It hadn’t been long since he first presented himself to you, so he still wasn’t totally comfortable leaving his safe spots. His head poked through the wall, his eyes glinting with tears behind the broken mask. Immediately you stood up and briskly walked towards him.
“Oh Brahms, what’s happened? Why do you look so upset?”
He climbed through the wall and used his non-dominant hand to ease the mirror back into place. You took his right hand into yours and gasped, blood splotching everywhere. The skin was red and puffy, and he winced every time his fingers twitched.
“How did this even happen?”
He shrugged. So useful.
“Okay… So what did you cut yourself on? Metal? Glass? Plastic? What?” You guided him out of the room and safely down the stairs. It took him a while to answer. That could’ve meant he was trying to think of the right thing to say, or he was summoning a lie.
“Porcelain,” he spoke quietly, his voice slightly muffled under the material. Standing at the kitchen sink, he placed his fingers under the tap and you turned the water onto a warm temperature. He slowly eased his hand under the stream, his hand jolting in discomfort. “You cut your hand on the mask? It doesn’t look that sharp. Were you running around with it or something?”
That was your attempt to make some humour or light of the situation. You very much didn’t believe him. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was certainly a concern. You sat him down at the dining room table and raced for the first aid kit in the kitchen cabinets. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
You took out a disinfectant cream and spread the cold substance just around the cut. Brahms jerked his hand away but you were quick to pull it right back. He huffed in anguish. Clearly this wasn’t the only thing upsetting him. “Chill out, I’m helping you.”
You quickly wrapped a bandage around his coarse palms and stapled it off with clips. He flexed his hand with a mesmerised look in his eyes, admiring the love that may or may not have been put into that procedure. He still doesn’t fully read social cues or facial expressions, but at this point just let him believe what he wants.
You slumped back in your seat, smiling softly. “Soooo. What actually happened? It definitely wasn’t your mask.”
He rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his free hand, his elbow creaking into the mahogany table. “I was angry,” his voice was gruff and deep. You nodded, remembering the little argument you had earlier.
You told him that if he wanted to practice proper hygiene, he would need to start showering daily, or at least every 2-3 days. You even offered to let him shower with you so he wouldn’t have to be alone the whole time. But being told what to do must have really pissed him off. Maybe you had been bossing him around too much lately.
“So, out of anger, you broke something? What did you break?”
He gulped. His face shied away as he muttered something. You leaned closer, grinning. “Sorry bub, what was that?”
“The mirror!” he growled in a hushed voice.
He was talking about the vanity mirror in his hide out spot. It was taken out of his mother’s room after her deliberate passing. Your heart broke for him. To comfort him, you opened your arms for a hug and he leaned forward. Your hands wrapped around him and rubbed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one. Just like it, as if it never left.”
His posture loosened in your embrace as you said that - he knew you meant it.
“Do you want me to kiss your hand to make the pain feel better?” His face lifted and you watched the smile appear in his eyes as he chuckled. You brought his bandages hand to your lips and kissed all over his knuckles and fingers and the back and palm of his hand. The skin was soft yet gravelly; somehow warm and cold at the same time.
You both say there for a little while, just sort of hugging it out. Moments like these weren’t too common, but that never made them uncomfortable memories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Masterlist
Gay gay homosexual gay
Gay gay homosexual gay
Pretty Boy
Brahms x reader
Brahms gets hurt badly after fighting your ex, and in the middle his mask flew off somewhere. Unconscious on the floor, you try to help him and clean the wounds
wg: Besides mentions of blood and open wounds, just fluff and Brahms being Brahms <3
It was a nasty fight, shattered glass flew over everywhere. Brahms got your ex to run away tho. For him, the fight and all the wounds were worth it. He’ll do anything for you. Due to the uncommon amount of effort he did and wounds he gain, he pass out right then and there. His mask was out, somewhere on the floor.
“Brahms…” You whispered. He didn’t respond. Your eyes went through every wound he had, until they reached his uncovered face. You could tell that at least a %50 of his face was burnt. Not that you cared tho, you still wouldn’t leave him for that.
With much, much effort you lift him to the bed, so you could treat his wounds better. His chest rising up slowly, a sign he was still breathing. You gathered everything you could reach to disinfect the bloody cuts. You were lucky enough the Heelshires had everything you could need in case something like this happens. You managed to get some pads, bandages and alcohol. You wet the little pads with alcohol and brush them against the fresh wounds, sounds of pain and visible discomfort could be heard from Brahms. You felt terrible, but you needed to disinfect.
“I know…I know Brahms.” You reassured. Whenever you brush the pads against his wounds you would move your hand in a certain way so the could blow some air in attempt to lessen the sting.
A few minutes later you managed to bandage all of his wounds. He was still asleep. He seemed so peacefully you didn’t wanna disturb him. You sat down on the bed next to him and caressed his messy brown hair, admiring his features. You took your right hand and placed it on his burnt side.
Who cares if he’s burnt? You thought to yourself.
You didn’t know how ir when you stared whispering things to his sleeping form.
“You know, I like your hair Brahms.” You didn’t know if he could hear you or not, but honestly, you didn’t care.
“And your eyes…your eyes are special.” You continued. You kept complimenting his body and face, and all the things he did for you, and keeping you safe.
“Thanks…for what you did for me today. But I don’t want you to do it again, it’s far too dangerous. And I love you too much for you to bleed out on me.” This was the first time you tell him you love him. Eventually you fell asleep on his side, you being the big spoon. You liked the body difference, but with this guy, being the big spoon was a little bit uncomfortable. Suddenly you woke up when your arms reached to hug him but didn’t find a body to hug.
“Brahms?…” You called for him. You didn’t found him next to you on the bed, instead his was sitting on the edge of it. “Brahms?”
“You know, I didn’t want you to see my face…eventually i would take my mask off. Once there was enough trust between us. That was the original plan…” He explained.
“Oh…Brahms…I really don’t mi-” You were interrupted by him.
“I-I didn’t want to show you my face, I don’t want to scare you away…please, your everything I have left.” You notice his voice cracking and sobbing when he told you this.
“I wasn’t going to leave you Brahms…I would have never…” Now, you sitting next to him, you give him little palms on his back.
“Thanks…for patching me up.”
“You’re welcome, Brahmsy.” You said smiling. “Hey…look at me, look at me.” With one hand you tilted his head so he was facing you.
“I love you. You heard me?” You looked at him straight into his eyes.
“I love you too.” He replied.
You whipped the tears from his cheeks with your sweater’s sleeve and then proceeded to kiss his burnt cheek. You’re melted when you saw he blushed.
“Aww…that’s so sweet.” You remarked.
“I swear to god if you tell any-” This time you interrupted.
“Yeah…yeah…”
“I-i, if-…okay, you win.” He said at last.
Once you were at the room, he caressed the exactly part of your lips that touched his cheek, and blushed again.
Well, this short fic was due that people voted for a Brahms fic 😊 hope you liked it, and again sorry for any misspelling mistakes, English it’s not my mother language.
See you around!
The title of your work "pretty boy" reminded me of beautiful boy the song, imagine a hurt/comfort where brahms is reminded of his traumas and how his face was distorted into something people are consistently afraid of but m/gn reader comforts him and calls him his beautiful boy while big spooning brahms and carding your fingers thru his hair.
Aaaa 😭 the title actually I got inspirated from the song, but this is so cute, I feel the urge to right it ❤️ sorry it took me a couple of days to answer 🥹
Beautiful Boy
WG: Hurt/confort, angst
Brahms couldn’t stop watching himself on the dusty old mirror he had on his made up bedroom in the walls. It’s like the furniture was calling for him. Big and a little bit redish his scar was showing, and that’s what he couldn’t stop seeing. He hated it so very much, that he wishes he could just tore that part of his face apart. His other side of his face was okay, could be kissed and touched, and somewhere deep down inside of him, perturbed him as well. Cause, who would find him attractive with a face like his? Who would want to kiss him? Or even see him without his mask? It tore him apart every time he thinks about it.
No one is gonna ever love me like this…
Of course he was wrong, cause you came along and to his surprise you stayed. Not only cause you wanted to, but because you found Brahms fairly attractive. At first he thought you were lying that you were saying such nice things to calm him down and to keep him in line, but you weren’t. A burning scar wasn’t gonna stop you from loving this man. Everything about him caught your attention and you were interested enough to spend time with him.
You caught him in the act of watching himself. Touching his ‘bad side’ with one of his hands, you could swear you heard him sobbing.
“What’s wrong Brahms?” You asked politely.
“Oh..i-it’s nothing sweetheart.” He stated, trying to cover the mirror. But it was too late for that, you already saw him staring into it.
“Come on Brahms, what is it?” You insist, knowing that eventually he would give in and tell you.
“It’s just that…I guess I can’t really believe that actually somebody wants me, having my face like-” You didn’t let him finish when you finish the sentence for him.
“Like what? Burnt?" You asked.
"Yes…" This poor young man, you thought. You were always assurring him that you love him no matter what. Even so, it seems he still didn’t quite believe you did.
It’s not like you mind reminding him that you care deeply for him. After all it was true. What started as days became weeks, and then months and you no longer could tell how many time you spent with him already. But you were not leaving, not any time sooner.
“I love you Brahms, just the way you are. I wouldn’t change anything about you.” You approach him and hold his face in your hands, your left thumb caressing his burnt side tenderly. He looked at you as saying ‘you mean it?’
“I mean it babe…” You smiled down at him, he hold you close to him and hugged you. His face resting against your bellybutton.
“I love you sweetheart, very deeply.” He said.
“Me too, Brahms.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and pet it.
It was already late and the bed time stroke as always. You took Brahms to his bed and kiss him goodnight as always, and proceeded to lay down next to him, big spooning him to sleep.
“You’re my beautiful, beautiful boy, Brahms…” You whispered to him while carding your fingers thru his hair, soothing every doubt he could have about his appearance away.
"Greta? Come back..." Brahms Heelshire - The Boy.
Fancy Brahms !!! He is ready for his date.