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semiweirdshipper · 11 months

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Slashers' as fathers with a child/reader. (Comfort drabbles for anyone like me who has daddy issues).

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

I'm a little embarrassed that I made this but I can't deny that it does comfort me and make me feel better. If it makes you happy as well, then I'm glad. Thank you for reading. I hope you have a nice day.

...

Freddy

He was sleeping in his bed when he felt something nudge his arm, the soft callings of your voice quickly rousing him from his slumber. "Daddy? Daddy, please wake up."

Paternal instincts demanding that he instantly wake to check and see if you were okay, Freddy sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately the sight of you standing beside the bed in your pajamas with a sad, frightened look on your face greeted him, and he reached out to gently brush a hand through your messy hair.

"What's the matter, sweetie? Is everything okay?" He asked, gazing around for potential danger.

You whimpered, your little hands anxiously fiddling together as you say sadly, "I... I had a nightmare and I... I got scared."

Relaxing a bit, Freddy sat up all the way in bed and lifted his arms out towards you, "Oh sweetie, come here."

Stepping forward and lifting your arms, you whimper whenever your dad pulled you sideways onto his lap and held you close. He kissed the top of your head and gently patted your back. "Thought I told you not to be having those?" He mumbled.

"I know, but... It was so scary and I-I didn't like it," You whined, burying yourself into the divine safety of his chest, his scent familiar and comforting.

"Shh, shh," Freddy rubbed soothing circles against your back while hugging you securely against him, always prepared to fight all of your demons away- even if your demons were as simple as nightmares. "It's okay, sweetie. You're alright. Daddy's got ya. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Ok..." You whisper, still snuggled against him. He was so comforting and safe. "Daddy? I'm thirsty. Will you get me some juice, please?"

"You want juice?" Freddy tickled your nose causing you to giggle, "Hm?"

"And a story?" You smile at him hopefully.

"And a story? Well, aren't you spoiled," Freddy smiled back and leaned down to nuzzle your forehead, "Sure, sweetie, let's get you some juice."

Grinning at his compliance, you lean forward and give him a big hug. He hugs you back, and it feels so nice and comforting that you feel as if you could go to sleep right then and there.

Freddy holds your hand as he takes you to the kitchen to get you some juice. Then he grabs a book from a shelf and sits down in his arm chair with you sitting in his lap with your blanket and juice in clutch. He reads to you the short story as many times as you want until you've finished your beverage and declared that you were tired again.

"Can I sleep with you, daddy? Please," You ask, fidgeting in the hopes that you wouldn't have to sleep in the dark alone by yourself again tonight.

Freddy doesn't have the heart to tell you "no", so he nods and ruffles your hair, "As long as you promise not to have anymore nightmares. Promise?"

"I promise, daddy," You say happily, crawling into bed with him and immediately going to snuggle into his chest, "I love you."

Freddy kisses your head and tucks you both in with a blanket, one arm wrapping around you to hold you against him. Warm, safe, and comfortable. "Love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep and, this time, have 'good' dreams."

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

"Hey Les, you seen (y/n) around?" Bo asked as he approached Lester's truck.

Lester gave him a look that he came to dread. "Yeah, they're on back with Vincent. Why?"

Relieved by your assured safety, Bo placed his hands on his hips and stared hard at the ground. Guilt chewed on him like a hungry wolf, and shame became a permanent dark cloud hanging all around him. "I-I messed up, Les," He admitted, shaking his head.

Lester raised his eyebrows in suspicion, "What'a ya mean?"

"Yesterday, I... I messed up," Bo huffed, dragging a rough hand through his hair, "An' now they ain't talkin' to me, and I... I just... Uh."

"Oh, so that's why the little critter wanted to spend the night," Lester chuckled and petted his dog's head fondly, "An' here I was hopin' I was the new favorite uncle. Guess I ain't, huh?"

Bo ignored him as he thought about what happened yesterday. He had been angry for reasons unrelated to you, and when you had tried to get his attention he snapped and yelled at you. Even though "what" was all he yelled, he could still tell how much he scared you and hurt your feelings. Now you wouldn't go around him. Gosh, he didn't mean to do it, he just... He was just an idiot.

Lester frowned at him as if noticing his distress, "Well hell, if it's botherin' ya to the pits then why don't ya go talk to them? You are their daddy after all, ain't ya?"

Yes. Yes he was your dad. And no child should ever have to be afraid of their dad.

Making his ultimate decision, Bo adjusted his hat and began stomping away, "Gotta go."

He found you in the house eating snacks with Vincent. When you noticed he was there, you looked at him and then quickly bowed your head like... like you were afraid of him. And it broke Bo's heart. Good grief, what had he done?

Pulsing with regret, guilt and shame, Bo slowly approached you and knelt down beside your chair, "Hey there, little critter bug. What'cha eating?"

You were hesitant, keeping your face averted as you timidly mumble, "Grapes."

"Ooh, yummy, can I have some?" He lifted his hands out, uncertain of where and when he should start explaining himself.

Sadness and uncertainty decorated your face as you lifted out the bowl to him. Vincent seemed to understand what his brother was doing, and he stood up to leave and give you some privacy.

As he ate some grapes, Bo was surprised to hear you quietly ask, "Daddy... Are... Are you still mad at me?"

"Oh..." He straightened his posture, set the bowl aside and reached out to gently grasp your shoulder, "Oh, (y/n), I was never mad at ya, I just... I was just havin' a bad day and I..."

Bo sighed, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently in reassurance, "Look, critter bug, I didn't mean to yell at ya, and I definitely ain't mad at ya. I just... Daddy made a mistake, and I'm so, so sorry, (y/n). I promise... I'll never yell at you again. I promise."

Your eyes glistened as you looked at him as if in debate. Bo's throat was dry as he waited for your reaction, the negativity and guilt nearly driving him insane.

Instead of saying anything, you spread your arms and lift them upwards. Bo sighed quietly in relief and went to scoop you into his arms, his aching chest slowly beginning to calm down. He still felt guilty for how he made you feel, and he wasn't lying when he promised that he would never ever make you feel that way again.

Michael + Aunt Laurie

You were both trick-or-treating and having a good evening on Halloween. Michael alternated between carrying you on his back, on his hip, or simply holding your hand while walking. It warmed his heart to see how happy and excited you were, your candy-bag becoming overloaded with sweet treats.

He decided to stop at Lauries for a quick break and some refreshment. You ran back out while he was still inside. It only felt like a minute before he followed your footsteps and soon came to a scene that made his blood boil and his eyes widen.

You were laying on your back against the sidewalk, small, frightened cries spilling from your lips. In the direction you were staring, Michael caught a glimpse of a group of teenagers quickly running away. They must have done something to you. But what?

"D-daddy," You cried as he quickly walked over to you, and you skittered to get to your feet.

Michael barely got to check you over for damage before you were wrapping your arms around his waist and crying into his belly. "They pushed me and stole my candy," You whined loudly against him, "I-I just wanted to be friends, b-b-but they stole my candy. Ehh, daddy, daddy, what do I do? They stole my candy."

Anger invaded every nerve within Michael's body as he held you close protectively. How dare anyone treat you this way. How could they? You were the nicest, sweetest little angel. What was their problem? Michael's eyes burned with the memory of those teenage scum and the direction they fled.

Hearing your loud sniffles, Michael gently coaxed you back and knelt down. Slipping off his mask, he reached out, cupped your cheek and used his jumpsuit sleeve to wipe away your tears and snot. Then he used sign-language to ask if you were okay.

You nodded and cried in great sadness, "But they stole my candy. Wh-why did they do that, daddy? I-I just wanted to be friends."

Michael quickly explained to you how those teenagers were obviously bullies. This same experience happened to him too when he was your age. Everything was going to be alright. They would get you more candy. Calm down. Everything was going to be alright.

Slowly you began to calm down, your sobs and whines diminishing. Michael pulled you into his arms and hauled you against his hip so that he could take you into the house. You stayed attached to him the whole time, and he refused to let you go. Frustration still burned inside him, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect and comfort you/his child.

Laurie was there to save the day, thankfully, offering you all of the candy she hadn't yet given out and putting on a fun movie for you to watch.

You were snuggled up against your dad on the couch, your mood significantly eased as he rubbed your head and back and offered you pieces of candy. For the most part you forgot about the incident, but Michael certainly hadn't.

Let's just say that, by tomorrow, you would have your stolen candy back.

Hannibal

He had taken a leave of absence from work so that he could better take care of you while you were sick. It wasn't anything serious; just a small cold. The nurse from your school had sent you home earlier due to a sore throat and a fever. Hannibal had rushed to get you as quickly as he could.

Once he got you home, he had you take a bath and get dressed into your pajamas. You complained of throat and stomach pain, and you had irritated sinuses. He gave you some medication and told you to lie down while he made you some special soup that would soothe your tummy.

As he was cooking, he heard your tiny footsteps echoing from the hallway, and he turned to see your sleepy figure approaching, "Daddy?"

"Yes, my child, what is it?" He asked, setting his cutting knife aside.

"My tummy hurts so bad," You pouted, your voice beginning to sound scratchy, "And I don't feel good. I wanna be with you."

Hannibal grabbed a kleenex from the counter and knelt down to gently clean your messy nose, "I know. And that is precisely why you should be sleeping."

"But I can't sleep," You whimper, looking at him with sad, tired owl eyes, "I wanna be with you. Please, daddy? Let me stay with you."

Hannibal tilted his head at you, his brows lifting in debate. While he would rather you be getting some decent rest, he knew that you were young and still filled with energy even whilst you were sick. He didn't have much left to do cooking wise either, so he figured that having you stay around wouldn't harm anything.

"Alright then," Hannibal leaned forward and picked you up, swiftly positioning you on his hip and supporting you with one arm so that he could use the other to cook with.

You held onto his neck while resting your head against his shoulder, your eyes mostly shut as you listened to the sound of his heart beat. Safety and warmth enveloped you making you feel much, much better than what you had before. Your dad was always so cozy and comforting.

Hannibal was able to finish cooking dinner with you on his hip the entire time. Once it was time to eat, he set you down on a chair and made you a drink and a bowl of soup. You ate quietly which worried him a little, but he knew it was just because you weren't feeling good.

"Feeling better?" He asked when you were finished.

You smiled and nodded at him, "Mhm, it was real yummy. Thank you, daddy."

"You're welcome, my child," He reached out and gently squeezed your cheek before taking your bowl and cleaning it, "I don't suppose telling you to get back in bed will do any good, will it?"

Your pitiful whimper was enough of an answer. Hannibal chuckled, dried his hands and went to pick you up again, holding you close as he carried you to the living room. "A movie it is then."

"Can Will come over?" You asked, grinning.

Hannibal gave you a look, "I'm beginning to believe that you're not sick at all."

...

All good fathers' should fight their child's nightmares away, not be the reason why they have them.

#slashers #slasher fanfiction #reader insert #child reader #Platonic love only #Not romantic #bo sinclair x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #freddy krueger x reader #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #Father & child relationship #michael myers x reader #Slashers as dads #Comfort drabbles

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chitteringcicadaeyes · 1 month

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ooga booga

(click for better quality idk why tumblr blurs my art so bad help)

#fan art #digital art #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #the boy 2016 #slashers #male yandere #yandere #slasher movies #shouts out to the anon who asked for more brahms #if u get the references you slay #tim wright #btw take the comic as platonic or romantic as u want #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms x reader

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pettyprocrastination · 2 years

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idk what it is about horror movies that take place in the 70′s and 80′s but i love it. Let me see a bitch with a mullet running for his life. ominous revving of a chainsaw in the background as oingo boingo plays. this is where i thrive.

#tj talks #idk why i just enjoy things set in that time period for some reason #as i struggle to find a working link so i can watch the black phone #also if i wrote a random splurge drabble about a victim having a weird codependent sorta romantic relationship with a slasher would you read #i also have some frankie fluff on the stove atm so like. whatever works

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sickthing · 2 years

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#goth #gothgoth #goth makeup #chucky #bride of chucky #jennifer tilly is my idol #jennifer tilly #tiffany valentine #dark aesthetic #aesthetic #alt #gothic #emo #vampire goth #creepy cute #romantic goth #alternative #horror #slasher

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circusmania · 4 months

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Hello! Can I request Yandere romantic michael myers that know detective reader is secretly a Eldritch Abomination that showing or feeling no interest, enthusiasm, or concern?

Btw i love your writing😊

Yandere!Michael Myers x GN!Reader ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Notes: Aww! I'm so grateful that you enjoy my writing! Hopefully, you enjoy this one, too. ♡ Also, I hope that it matches what you requested. :')

Muah Muah 🖤

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

WARNINGS: Gore, stalking, mentions of body mutilations (reader + corpses)

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Amidst the rain, flashing red and blue lights could be seen. Haddonfield is quiet on this Halloween night, which is no surprise to the people who live there. No trick-or-treaters are seen on the streets, just police and their cars.

A car pulls up, catching the attention of the officers. Out steps the famous detective, You. You've impressed many with your skills and clue findings, no killer has ever been able to slip past you. Except for a particular man. The Boogeyman. You've been on his trail for years now, and you can't say that you haven't enjoyed the chase.

You step in a puddle, paying no mind to your wet shoes as your assistant scurries over with an umbrella.

“Detective!” He frantically fixes himself as he struggles to hold the umbrella over your head. “It's an 18-year-old girl. She was babysitting a young boy (who thankfully survived) when the killer forced himself into the house and stabbed her many times.”

You two approached the body of the girl. Your assistant turned his head, not wanting to see the gruesome sight. There's blood dripping from every open wound. Her face is twisted in agony and there's no light in her eyes.

“Do you think…. He did it? You know… the Boogeyman.” He whispered as if he was afraid of anyone hearing.

You didn't say anything. Obviously, it was, who else could it have been? You crouched down next to her, no emotion displayed on your face as you put on your gloves.

“Her parents are here…” Your assistant spared you a glance as a car pulled up not far from the crime scene.

“Don't let them come near.” You said, getting up after finishing examining her.

“Shouldn't we let her parents see her…?”

The screams and weeping of the parents could be heard from behind the police tape.

You sigh. “This is no place for a funeral. I don't want them touching the crime scene or moving anything.” You replied sharply.

Your assistant shivers at your coldness. He nods and moves to tell the officers. Suddenly, you notice something on one of the trees next to the body.

A heart had been carved into the trunk of the tree. You moved closer, straying away from the umbrella your assistant was holding. Now drenched in rain, you traced the carving with your finger. Whoever had done this knew how to handle a knife… The carvings were deep and done with passion.

Michael Myers was watching from afar, heavy breathing could be heard from under his mask. His grip tightened on his bloody knife as he saw your assistant yell after you for getting soaked.

Back home, your sanctuary, you finally felt relief. Your house was located deep in the woods to avoid any human interactions. The naked eye couldn't process your naked form.

The human skin stuck to yours. You peeled it off, layer after layer. You're careful not to rip it, as human skin tends to be too fragile for your claws. You laid your drenched skin suit on your chair.

You strolled over to your fridge and opened it. Your amalgamation of a hand reached in and pulled out some sort of meat. You engulfed it, not letting any of your teeth have a chance to penetrate it. You scarfed down any remaining bones on the plate.

All of a sudden, one of your many eyes picked up on a movement outside your window. Your eyes narrowed as you closed your fridge. You don't care if a human ever catches your form. Your bare body would make any sane man explode (literally). So you didn't worry about your secret getting out. However, this was different.

Your acute ears focused on any sounds that would indicate the presence of another being. Abruptly, you heard a twig snap.

You rushed out of your house at an abnormally fast rate. You were ready to confront your stalker, however, once outside, you were greeted with the dark, lonely forest and the song of the crickets you were accustomed to.

Whoever you were dealing with couldn't be human. You scoffed and went back inside, failing to notice the pale mask of the Boogeyman amidst the trees.

You were planning on relaxing the rest of your afternoon, but Michael had other plans. You were called in again when another body had been found dumped in a ravine close to your house. You put back on your skin suit, it was extra tight on you since it hadn't dried off yet.

Once again, you did your usual routine. Examine the body, look for clues and ask questions. Whoever this mysterious Michael Myers was, he sure knew how to put up a game of cat and mouse… And romance you in his own way.

The stab wounds on his victim were in a heart-shaped pattern.

“Ain't it too early for Valentine?” Your assistant attempted to (nervously) crack a joke, which fell on deaf ears.

You remained with a stoic face as you watched them place the body in a body bag.

Each year, the Boogeyman gets bolder and bolder. Yet, never had the guts to face you. Unbeknownst to you, tonight would be different.

Your assistant coughed to get your attention. “I've… got to go… family emergency.”

“Mm, okay.” You turned back to the crime scene.

Your assistant lingered for a while, expecting any worried expression or encouraging words. But was ultimately met with your usual uncaring tone.

Another hour had passed, and you were finally granted permission to go home. Home.

As you arrived home, you parked your car and got out. A beautiful stench filled your nostrils. Laying on your welcome mat was a human heart surrounded by a heart formed of drops of blood.

Your door was ajar.

A twinge of hope that today could be the day you meet him arose. But, it quickly died down as you entered your home.

The smell flooded your house as each step made it stronger and stronger. Like a game of hot and cold, each step you took was warmer and warmer.

Laying on your kitchen table on a fancy dish was the head of your assistant. His tongue was pulled out all the way through his mouth and his teeth were knocked out and laid next to his head.

You ignored him though, because your attention was focused on the giant man standing in the dark hallway. He was bloody, and heavily breathing, but somehow quiet…. He was awaiting your next move.

Perhaps the thing that sparked Michael's obsession with you wasn’t that you weren’t human, but the fact that you never showed any ounce of fear towards him. Or maybe because you both shared a taste for carnage.

Your human skin faltered as your smile stretched beyond human capabilities. Your eyes were gouging out of your sockets as your appearance looked less and less human.

In all of your and Michael's years, this may be the first time a spark of emotions illuminated in both of your empty bodies.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

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horror-aesthete · 1 month

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Candyman, 1992, dir. Bernard Rose

#horror aesthetic #horror movies #candyman #90s horror #supernatural #romantic horror #horror romance #ghosts #slasher horror #candyman 1992

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theres-a-body-here · 9 months

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Ghostface with Creep!reader

A new killer has been snatched by the Entity. Something about their cheap Halloween werewolf mask and casual clothing made some of the realms residents uneasy

Was drawn to you from the beginning

Not in the way you'd expect

He was offended

He saw you as a cheap imitation. A copycat

A masked killer that stalks their victims and records their last moments?

You were basically begging to be stabbed

The Entity shut that down real quick before he could push his blade into your liver

He made sure to downright ignore you after that event

That was until he spectated your trials

As the Entity's favorite, he had many "perks". Being able to spectate matches as they happened was one of them

You weren't bad, but you weren't great

He'd grit his teeth whenever you'd prioritize filming the survivors with your video camera instead of injuring them

He'd facepalm whenever you'd swing at a vaulting survivor, only to hit the wall

He needed to intervene

Don't get it wrong. Not for your sake, but for his

Danny hates copycats, but he hates it even more when said copycat is shit at it

Makes him look bad

After your trial, he grabs you by your arm and pulls you deep into the forest

The Entity hasn't stopped him yet, so you guess he isn't trying to kill you again. You let yourself get dragged along

Get ready for a long rant followed by an even longer lesson in stalking

"What the fuck was that? You didn't even bring one slowdown perk. Come on now. If you're going to imitate me, at least do it with finesse." Behind his mask, Danny's lips twisted into a snarl.

You occupied a spot on a toppled tree trunk, engrossed in reviewing recordings on your video camcorder. Evidently, his lecture failed to captivate your attention.

"The Entity seems to be pleased with my performance. If I was doing bad she would've let it be known. Get off my back"

Your voice retained an air of calmness, though the underlying hint of a threat was unmistakable.

Despite how it appeared, you and Danny have started to "hang out" more after that

It usually goes like this: you exit a trial and Ghostface begins to hound you over your mistakes. However, he always gives a few pointers before he leaves for his own trials

He would never admit it, but he slowly started warming up to you

Not even 2 months later, Danny shares his perks with you

"Here you faker. Maybe now you'll finally get more than one kill per trial"

He still criticizes and taunts you as you both sit near the fire with the other killers within hearing range

But it's more friendly than malicious

Amidst the silence around the campfire, Danny couldn't resist taking a playful jab at your looping skills, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know, I've seen toddlers with better footwork when it comes to catching survivors."

You shot him a mock glare. "Hey, not all of us can be stealthy killers with years of practice."

A chuckle escaped from Danny's masked lips, but before the moment could settle, Frank chimed in with a taunt of his own. "Yeah, Danny's right. I've seen snails with better chasing skills."

The campfire's atmosphere shifted instantaneously. Danny's chuckles ceased, replaced by a tense stillness. His masked gaze settled on Frank with an intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those around.

Danny's voice was low and controlled, his anger barely contained. "You've got a death wish, asshole?"

Frank seemed to realize his mistake too late, his face paling behind his own mask under the weight of Danny's glare. He stammered, trying to backtrack, "I... I didn't mean..."

But Danny's patience had worn thin. He stood abruptly, the menace radiating from him unmistakable. "You listen, and you listen well. You don't get to insult them. Only I do."

Frank swallowed hard, his bravado evaporating. "I... I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean anything by it."

Danny's gaze didn't waver, his message conveyed without a need for further words. Frank nodded frantically, looking as though he'd just escaped a close encounter with the Entity itself.

Danny's shoulders visibly relaxed as he resumed his seat by the fire, his attention returning to you. His voice regained its familiar tone of teasing, but there was an undertone of possessiveness. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, talking about how you managed to lose a survivor while they were practically walking backward."

You and Danny didn't exactly exemplify the poster image of a perfect and conventional friendship dynamic, but it worked out well enough

Masterlist here

#dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #slasher x reader #dead by daylight x reader #killer!reader #dbd imagines #platonic or romantic

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macherkissed · 8 months

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How he reacts to your body tremors-Jason Voorhees x GN!Reader

Requested by Anon

He thinks you’re just clumsy if you end up dropping or spilling things when he isn’t in the room to see it happen, until he sees the way your hands shake when holding certain things.

The first time Jason sees your legs trembling when you’re stood, he grunts nervously and is at your side in a second, worried that you’ll fall.

He ends up asking about it, as best he can, by getting your attention and making little noises while pointing at your hands and exaggeratedly moving his own hand.

You have to explain it a couple of times to him but he gets that it can’t be helped much and it can get worse when you’re stressed

He understands having issues like that, since he has his own struggles that you help him with, even more than his mother did.

Since then, he’ll offer to carry and hold things for you, which can be a little much sometimes but he will back off if you tell him to. He’ll hover at your side when he notices even a slight wobble of your leg, ready to scoop you up and be your legs for you

If your tremors get out of hand and you can’t calm them down or control them, Jason is fully willing to do anything you ask of him; fetch and carry, pick you up bridal-style and take you into another room, give you pressure hugs or hold your hands until you calm down, even going through breathing exercises if that would help you.

However, the first time you have a flare up, he does panic a little and starts whining and fidgeting around you, not knowing what to do or if he even can help, until you tell him what to do.

If you tell him that the tremors are a side effect of your medication, he will death-glare the drugs every time you take them. He won’t do anything to them, though he wants to, because he knows you need them.

Mostly, as with a lot of things, Jason will just follow your lead and trust what you tell him.

He’s happy to help and support you, the way you do with him.

If you'd like, you can buy me a coffee on Ko-fi 🥰

Buy PastaWrites a Coffee. ko-fi.com/macaroniwritings005 - Ko-fi ❤️

#jason voorhees x reader #gender neutral reader #horror x reader #slasher x reader #horror imagines #slasher imagines #fanfiction #anon request #fluff #disabled reader #horror headcanons #slasher headcanons #platonic headcanons #or could be seen as romantic i guess

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stat1cstarz · 1 year

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“You drive me crazy”

Vincent Sinclair X Fem! Reader

Description:During the summer months,many families and couples would camp outside of Ambrose. And because of Vincent’s risky behavior,that gave him an idea

Credits to @xslashers

They are a great writer,and I’m very grateful they allowed me to write this. This post was inspired off of their NSFW alphabet for Vincent Sinclair. They are a great writer,so please shoot them a follow,and check out their posts! ❤️

Includes: p in v, exhibition kink,oral( f receiving ),soft ending,soft smut,romantic Vincent,possessiveness mentioned

Minors do not interact

Vincent had a duality to him,he was an overly possessive lover.Never daring to let you around his brother Bo,in fear of you leaving him in favor of the more attractive twin,the twin that didn’t have horrific scars. But he was also risky,a major turn on for him was taking you in public area. He lusted not only over you,but the idea of people knowing you belong to him,and they couldn’t touch you. Which is what lead to todays events…

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You and Vincent were walking side by side,hands clasped tightly together. The moon waxing above your bodies,the pearly brightness creating a satiny affect on Vincent’s smooth black hair. You were walking through the deep woods outside of Ambrose, you two were caught up in each other.Your aroma was intoxicating to Vincent, forming a ball of desire inside of him.

“It’s so pretty out here Vinny” you said,trying to sound as innocent as possible,while trying to flirt as well, the prettiest view was of course him..

After a while of staring at each other, your hand cradled in his strong grip,you came across a small wooden sign. It pointed to a small camping area, it was littered with cabins,tents,and RV’s. It was a hotspot for families,and a lot of people. Vincent removed his mask, underneath the wax prosthetic he had a look on him,way different than any other. That looks was way more prominent than ever before,his blue eye holding a piercing gaze,cutting through you like a sharp blade.

After the amount of time you guys spent together, you knew what he wanted,you gave him a nod,signaling you knew what he wanted, and you wanted it to in fact. That nod alone made the bulge in his pants grow bigger,it now straining against his black overalls. He pulled you down the gravely trail of the camping area,it was sectioned off based on where certain stuff was allowed. He took you to the tents only area, there was a small car parked out front,and two tents.

Toys were strewn about the land,suspecting their to be a sleeping family. Vincent stopped in his tracks,slipping his hand underneath your jaw,craning your head to look at hm. He softly caressed your cheek,laying gentle kisses on your lips. In response,you did the same, but more aggressive than him. You locked your arms around his shoulder,giving him rough kisses on his scared lips.

It didn’t take long for you to end up on the hood of a strangers car,his strong hand digging into your soft thighs, the other slowly rubbing your clitoris. “I need you Vinny” you whispered. Those words alone was all he needed to hear from you,he unclipped the overalls,letting the rough fabric drop to the ground,with his boxers. He grabbed your ankles,pulling you to the edge of the car,working your pants off as well.

He held your pants and underwear over his broad shoulder,as he kissed your bare pelvis and hips. After laying loving kisses to his muse,he slowly slipped himself inside of you. No matter how slow he was going,it took you a while to get used to his size. He was more long than anything,but still had some girth to him.

He felt your wet walls massaging him,as he gripped your thighs, thrusting inside of you at a rough pace. His balls being placed snuggly between your asscheeks,before leaving once again,in a pattern. Unholy sounds erupted from both of you,heavy groans coming from his mouth,his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

He signed to you ‘I can’t believe I get to have you all to myself, I love you so fucking much’ his singing made your heart swell,as he continued his pace. You heard rustling coming from a tent,but Vincent held onto your head with his hand,making sure you only looked at him. After a while,it was finally quiet,only some quiet talking coming from a tent.

That encouraged you guys to keep going, this time he pulled out of you,stuffing himself back into his boxers. Just when you thought you were done,he lowered himself to your clitoris,licking long stripes over your puffy clit,shoving four fingers inside your hole, more than what you were used to. The pleasure made your toes curl,your lips turning a deep rose color.

After a while,he retracted his tongue,afterwards you seemed tired as hell,he put his clothes back on, as well as yours. He carried you to a nearby lake,setting you on his lap,your legs dangling off a wooden dock. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his cold hands,calming the burning redness.

#vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair smut #slashers #slashers smut #i need a big boy #give me a big boy #i love big men #horror #house of wax #slasher fic #vincent house of wax #soft smut #romantic #slasher fucker

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acertainperson · 1 year

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can I get some lenzshire from you? ♡

never read a lenzshire fic in my life i just think theyre funny together. Also bonus.

#digital art #fanart #black christmas #black christmas 1974 #billy lenz #billy lenz fanart #the boy 2016 #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #lenzshire #i laughed at them cause theyre so alike yet so different #crazy coo coons they do things they THINK is romantic #HOPE YOU LIKE IT UM #slasher #slashers #ask stuff

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osteohack · 6 months

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Art: General Relationship Headcanons

Content: All sfw

Art is very humorous and utilises that a lot in your relationship. Most of his jokes will be light hearted for you if he can tell that you’re not responding well to his other, darker jokes. If you are someone who enjoys very dark, somewhat sick comedy then he’s more than willingly to let some pass. He’d also enjoy the jokes that you tell as well; communicating in his own way that he finds them funny (e.g., putting his hand over his mouth and pretending to giggle like a school girl).

He isn’t one for cuddling, but if you begged him, he might be willing to lay down and let you hold him. He’d be restless and constantly moving, especially if you whine about it. He’d think it’s funny.

If you lived in the same space, you’d have to be prepared to clean up after him a lot. Not only the mess he’d drag into the area after his activities, but also just in general. Art definitely isn’t a clean person and doesn’t really care to be.

In terms of affection, he’d be attentive in his own weird way. Art is sneaky, very quiet, and has good hearing. He’d always know where you are and would use this to scare you. Peeking around corners, honking right next to your ear. It’s his version of quality time. Of course, he has more conventional mannerisms as well, like neck kisses, little bites, and bringing you gifts that he finds (e.g., jewellery from victims). He’ll show affection in his own way, but he can be mindful of more normal methods.

He’s shameless. He doesn’t really obey boundaries. You would have to be really clear in what you do and don’t want, but don’t count on him listening.

#art the clown #terrifier #slashers x reader #slashers x you #slashers x y/n #I cannot imagine him in any kind of romantic relationship #so this was difficult lol #art the clown x reader #someone requested this but they’ve disappeared

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semiweirdshipper · 7 months

Text

Slashers as fathers with a child reader.

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

Summary: The slasher fathers feeling guilty after hurting their child's feelings. PART ONE.

Freddy Krueger

It felt like he had been a completely different person when he did it. Work had been stressing him out, parts of the house needed fixing, and he was a single parent. He wasn't getting enough rest. Eventually every little thing began to get to him.

Freddy hadn't been in his right mind when it happened. You loved making pictures for him, and one day you decided to nail some pictures on the wall by yourself. Not only had you nailed the pictures too low, but you had also accidentally made a large hole in the wall.

The incident had caused Freddy to explode. Not only did he yell at you for ruining the wall, but he ended up tearing one of your pictures in half. "I don't need this shit," He had shouted at you, "You think I feel like dealing with that? You ruined my wall, (y/n), and now I gotta fix it. I just- I can't... Ugh."

Freddy had avoided you for the remainder of the night- not because he was mad at you but because he was afraid he 'would' get mad at you again. It was a bad idea. He should have apologized for the way he acted. Because the next day when he woke up and went into his office, he noticed that every picture you had drawn him had been torn from the nails on the wall, shredded up and shoved in the trash.

Horror, heartache and regret immediately consumed his guilty conscience, and he rushed to find you. You were in your room playing with toys. It nearly destroyed him to see the way you flinched and scurried to hide behind a laundry basket.

"(y/n)," Freddy went to kneel in front of you, "Sweetie, what did you do? Why did you tear up daddy's pictures?"

"Because," You whimpered, keeping your teary face hidden, "You said you didn't need them. You... You tore it in half. I... I'm sorry, daddy. Hic... I-I-I'm sorry th-that I-I made a hole in the wall, an-and I'm sorry th-that you h-h-hate my pictures."

The amount of sadness, regret and complete and utter crushing guilt that fell upon Freddy was suffocating. Hearing your broken apology and seeing the way you were shaking caused him to be so disappointed with himself. He couldn't believe what he had done. Why did he do that? He would never do anything to cause you to feel this way, and he 'loved' your pictures.

And yet look what he caused. Not only did he hurt your feelings by being cruel, but he lost all of his near and dear pictures- even the ones you made when you were a toddler. They were all destroyed.

"I-I'll never color again," You swore in a loud whine.

"Oh no, sweetie, no," Freddy attempted to get closer to you, frowning heavily when you flinched at his touch, "Please don't do that. Listen- hey, look at me. I need you to look at me."

And when you did look at him, Freddy felt like punching himself in the face. You looked so scared, so sad and unbearably hurt. Oh gosh, what had he done? Why?

"Oh (y/n)..." Freddy sighed, shaking his head, "I'm so sorry. Yesterday I... I was just in such a bad mood an-and not because of you but because.... Look, (y/n), daddy didn't mean to act the way he did, and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I yelled at you and I'm especially sorry that I did that to your picture. I regret it so much, you have no idea. Please... I'm sorry. I 'love' your pictures (y/n), please don't stop making them."

As Freddy eagerly waited for a brightened response from you, his heart sunk from his chest when you turned your back to him and quietly mumbled, "I wanna play with my toys please."

Excuses and more apologies sat on Freddy's tongue, but he denied saying them for he believed that you simply needed time to forgive him. "Ok sweetie," He got up to leave, "If you need anything, come get daddy, ok?"

"Ok, daddy."

While, over time, you did warm back up to your father, you never did say that you forgave him. And Freddy never got another picture. And he would never, ever stop regretting what he had done.

Michael Myers

Michael was overwhelmed by the frustration work caused. Due to lack of loyal employees, he was forced to work over-time and pull extra shifts. He was sore, tired and angry. It felt like he was the only person at work who ever did anything right.

And that anger built and built until it eventually brought out the worst in him and made him do something that he would regret for the rest of his life.

You loved (sport) and had been outside practicing with some of the neighbors. Michael had been inside attempting to relax when suddenly one of the living room windows shattered. He flinched and rushed to his feet, red clouding his vision when he saw a familiar ball on the floor.

On his way to the door, you ran inside breathless and gasping, "Ah! I'm sorry, daddy, it's my fault. I-I accidentally threw the ball too hard and-"

Michael, with his emotional bridge broken, raised his hand to cut you off. A seething scowl took place upon his face, and he began to lecture you out in sign language. "I don't wanna hear excuses. Why were you playing so close to the house? You should know better. Now look at what I have to fix. All I want is to relax and now I can't because of your stupid (sport). Why do you even play (sport)? You're not even good at it."

Even though his words were literally silent, the crushed look on your face explained that you knew exactly what he had said. Michael ignored your crestfallen face and quiet sobs and demanded that you help him clean up the glass before sending you to your room. Yes, your friends had watched the whole thing.

Michael's seething attitude didn't diminish until the next day after he got some good sleep. He soon realized that he felt bad for how he treated you yesterday and decided that he wanted to apologize. But when he went to your room, he was stricken to see all of your favorite sports gear sitting in a trashcan. (sport) merchandise and even pictures you drew were also in the trashcan.

Overcome with concern, Michael wandered to your bed where you were hiding underneath your blanket. When he tapped on you, you twitched but otherwise kept pretending to be asleep. So he tried again.

You caved and lowered the blanket. Michael didn't like the way you winced at him, your eyes squinted as if you were expecting the worst out of him. He quickly used sign language to ask, "What is going on? Why are you throwing all your (sport) stuff away?"

"I..." Your voice was hesitant and quiet as you gazed away, "I don't like (sport) anymore. I... I-I'm not good at it, an-and you h-hate me playing it, an-and I'm sorry that I broke the window... I'm sorry, daddy. I promise-huh... I-I-I'll never play (sport) again."

What? Michael's eyes nearly popped out, regret, guilt and fear clouding his soul. Oh no. What had he done? You didn't like (sport) anymore? And all because he had overreacted and told you that you weren't any good at it. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. It couldn't be like this. You couldn't stop doing what you loved all because he was stupid and having a bad day.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, Michael quickly explained with sign language, "But you are good at (sport). Don't quit. I was having a bad day, I didn't mean to say that stuff. You don't have to quit. I'm sorry that I said that. Don't quit playing (sport), you love it."

Your lips wobbled and you turned your head away, your voice a broken whisper, "Ca-an I sleep some more before school. Please?"

Your lack of an answer both irritated Michael and broke his heart. He became angry at himself and regretful about what he had done. He wanted to talk to you more about it, but decided not to. Hopefully you would think about his apology and take all of your (sport) stuff out of the trash.

But, unfortunately for Michael, you never did get back into (sport), and he never got to stop feeling guilty about it.

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

Bo could admit that, on the surface, he had a very fragile temper. Ever since he had you he had tried his hardest to hide all the ugly parts of himself, especially his anger. Any time he began to lose his temper, he usually stomped off somewhere by himself to maybe punch something and take a moment to breathe.

So far he had done a fairly decent job.

Up until today that was.

It had been a long week. It was summer. Tourists were pouring in at random needing fast work done to their vehicles. The gas station and church needed extra attention. It was hot outside. And, once again, Bo had a very fragile temper.

It happened when he was elbow deep in truck externals. Ever since you could walk you had always been his little helper. Already at your age your dream was to be an engineer, but you still had a lot to learn. And the fact that you had a lot to learn is what caused Bo to snap.

With the impatience of the person waiting on their vehicle to be fixed, Bo also became impatient. You had been trying to help him, bringing him tools he needed.

Whenever you brought him one too many of the wrong tools, he ended up throwing a wrench and his hat to the ground. "What is your fuckin' problem?" He shouted at you, "Are ya stupid? If ya can't bring me what I need then get the fuck outta here."

You had flinched, tears immediately filling your eyes as you carefully backed up. Bo continued to give you a serious, livid glare that scared you, his words ringing in your head and shattering your heart. He watched you run away, his chest pounding with guilt he ignored as he finished his work.

Bo didn't see you for the remainder of the day, but he did check in with Vincent to make sure that you were alright. As night fell, he became more calm and relaxed, and soon he felt absolutely horrible for how he treated you. He sat on his bench rubbing his forehead in distress for almost an hour wishing he could take it all back.

He had shown you one of his worst sides. And it had hurt you. Now what was he supposed to do? He called you 'stupid'.

Unfortunately for Bo, he didn't get a chance to apologize that night for Vincent soon brought him a note explaining that Lester had taken you home with him for the weekend. Gosh darn it. He really wanted to apologize.

But his apology had to wait for- not one week or two weeks- but a whole month. That's how badly you were trying to avoid him. It was more than enough time for Bo to sit and think about his mistakes.

When Lester finally brought you home, Bo was grateful that you didn't appear to be angry or sad. You rushed to him and gave him a big, welcoming hug that soothed his core, "Daddy!"

"Hey, critter bug," Bo chuckled, ruffling your hair, "Missed you. Guess what? Some ol' couple brought in a beat up station wagon. Needs fixin'. Wanna help?"

"No thank ya," You said casually, leaning away from him, "I don't wanna be a engineer anymore."

Bo's world stopped rotating. "What?" He gave you a stabbed look, "But ya love doin' that stuff?"

"Not anymore," Your voice turned into a lightly disappointed mumble.

Bo's mouth went completely dry. He didn't know what to do or say. All of this time apart he thought that you would have gotten over his temper tantrum, but apparently you 'really' got over it. He had been the boulder that crushed your dreams. And it...

It almost made him wanna cry.

Bo swallowed, trying not to seem too beaten down, "But... Who's gonna be my helper?"

You smiled and pointed to the man standing beside the truck, "Uncle Lester will."

"Right..." Bo nodded, his chest aching with guilt, self-hatred, regret and sadness, "Right."

You never helped him with another car again.

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal liked to believe that he was the ultimate best at keeping his temper under control. He never got mad at you or expressed any negative emotions towards you. If you needed to be taught a lesson, then he would sit with you and have a firm, constructive conversation about how you needed to improve.

Your bond was strong and healthy and it made Hannibal proud. You even took after him by wanting to be a professional cook. And Hannibal was ecstatic to help you carry that dream into reality.

But one day all of his pride, arrogance and content came to an end.

You had woken up before him that morning and had snuck to the kitchen to make him breakfast. However, things went south and you accidentally ended up breaking one of his rarest, most treasured dishes- a dish that was literally one of it's only kind on the whole planet. And it upset him.

"I-I'm sorry, daddy," You had apologized desperately, "I-I just thought since you liked the plate so much you would also like eating off of it. I didn't mean to break it!"

Hannibal, his heart racing and his nerves burning with anger, had said almost too vastly, "And what lead you to believe that I would enjoy such horrible cooking on my most treasured dish? You knew these pieces were not meant to be eaten off of, yet you disrespected me anyway."

"Horrible cooking?" You murmured.

Because Hannibal was hurt, he couldn't resist the urge to make you hurt as well. "Yes. You are an awful cook. Your presence in this kitchen has always been a waste of time."

The way your eyes widened with hurt and how your hands immediately flew to your chest would be a sight that haunted Hannibal for the rest of his life. Slowly your eyes closed and you began to cry, your hands going to cover your face as you ran away, a sobbed "I'm sorry" echoing through the hall.

Instead of feeling satisfied that he hurt your feelings as intended, Hannibal immediately felt remorseful and guilty. Goodness. He knew that you were young and didn't mean to break his plate. He just... He just treasured the dish so much and now it was ruined forever. He let his emotions get to him, and he hurt you in the process. While it was your fault, he didn't blame you. You were innocent and you just wanted to make him happy.

After he cleaned up his broken dish, Hannibal searched for you and found you snuggled up on the couch. He sat in front of you and spoke calmly, "I'm sorry for getting angry at you. It wasn't my intention. You were just trying to make me breakfast and wound up making a mistake. It happens to all of us."

"I'm sorry..." You whimpered, obviously still upset.

"It is alright," Hannibal reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder. "I'll get started on breakfast."

"Can I help?" You asked hopefully.

Hannibal gave you a hesitant grimace, "I think it would be best if you skipped helping me in the kitchen for today."

Instantly your eyes puffed red and turned watery. Hannibal left you alone to exhale your emotions. He knew that you would be upset for a while, but he too was also upset. He just needed some time is all.

But apparently he was wrong yet again.

After that day, you never helped Hannibal in the kitchen again. For weeks after the incident, you didn't even eat the food that he cooked. It was like you banned yourself from the kitchen entirely. He had tried to coax you into helping him, but you always found excuses not to.

Soon Hannibal learned that he had destroyed your passion for cooking by making you believe that you were a terrible chef. And he regretted it so much that it was nearly unbearable. Hannibal couldn't handle mistakes he couldn't fix.

And no matter how hard he tried, he knew that he could never mend your feelings that he severed.

In part two I planned to age up the reader and have them secretly doing their passion behind their dad's back. And the slasher will find out and be like "what, I thought you gave up on that! Holy sh*t, I'm so happy". And the reader will be pleasantly surprised.

#dead by daylight fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #slashers as dads #child reader #reader x hannibal lecter #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #platonic love only #no romantic relationships #father figure #part one

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