rosesfromslashers

[rosesfromslashers]

OMG I'M SCREAMING.

To have somebody make art of a fic of mine is a dream, and this is so cute. Thank you so much, lovely. I'm honored to know that I inspired you (and this inspired me to pick the fic back up)

Somewhat-recently came across an incredible fic by @rosesfromslashers called “Warmest Place to Hide” and was so ill about it that I made a ton of silly doodles. Enjoy.

(They’re all rough sketches, but I had so much fun making them. Love the Assimilated!MacReady concept so much)

[rosesfromslashers]

hi! I'm not used to sending requests but I feel like there's a shortage of sweet tim drabbles/fics/whatever and it so happens that you write him beautifully! I'll take literally anything, just longing for a sappy domestic kinda thing. sorry if that's too much! keep up the good work :))

Absolutely! Thank you so much for your kind words and sending a request.

Tim Wright/Masky X Reader - Domestic Drabble

You sit there at the kitchen table, sorting his pills into an organizer, humming a song to yourself that he doesn't recognize.

"Why are you doing this for me?" Tim asks, itching to reach for the cigarette pack in his back pocket.

"Because I love you, Tim," you say, going back to it.

He knows you love him and not the Other. The mask. The one that vanishes, leaving you cold in the middle of the night. The one who grabs your arm too tight during an argument, despite how your face looks frightened.

The addiction wins. He sits before you, pulling a cigarette out of a box of menthols. He lights it with the scraping of a lighter, and he inhales to get the lighted end burning.

"First, I'm going to make it easier on you to take your meds," you tell him, voice teasing, "Then I'm going to get you to stop smoking."

He ashes the cigarette. "C'mere."

You stop your task, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward.

"Oh yeah?"

"I wanna hold you." Tim says, patting his lap. You listen with a smile and an eye roll, pushing your seat back and standing.

You make your way around the small table, situating yourself in his lap. In his quick to envelope you arms. He plucks the cigarette from his lips, exhaling the smoke over your head.

"Put it out, please," you mumble into his neck. With a huff, he listens. Tim stubs the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table.

He leans back as you face him eye to eye.

"Thank you." And you press your forhead to his.

His fingers run circles on your lower back. Your hands go to the sides of his face, and his sideburns are soft under your hands.

You press a kiss to his lips.

"I'm gonna take care of you," he declares when you part, "Once all of this is over."

You have nothing to say.

"Gonna work hard so you can stay home. God, I love coming home to you."

He presses a kiss to the top of your head as you rest yours against his chest, listening to his heart thump.

You close your eyes to fight back tears. You know what he comes home from. The things he does. How he can't control it. All you want to do is crawl into his beautiful, troubled mind to rip out the monster burrowed in his head.

But you can do that later. Tim's hands are beginning to wander, and you know how he craves to be close to you. You let him, your own hand going into his hair.

Tonight, he's Tim. And Tim is yours.

#tim wright x reader #requests #masky x reader #marble hornets

[rosesfromslashers]

Places - Yandere!Masky x Reader

I told myself I was done writing yandere vibes yet here this fucker is, dragging them out of me.

TW for dark themes, scary relationship situations, and some dubiously consentual semi-spiciness.

You're folding laundry when he gets home.

The smell of cigarettes and copper fill the air as he approaches, boots on the hardwood, unseen to you as your shaking hands complete the task of folding his red flannel.

"I missed you, sunshine," he whispers, burying his face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your middle. He's to your back, still out of view, but against your better judgment, you look down at the arms enveloping you.

There's dark scarlet splatters creeping up from the cuffs. Cuffs that you know he'll ask - though there is no asking from him, as you're expected to do everything he says - for you to clean.

"I missed you, too," and you're shocked that your voice doesn't shake.

His lips meet the side of your neck as he hums.

"You're such a good girl. I'm lucky to have you."

It's hard to tell anymore, who's who. Where Tim ends and the mask begins. Where Tim fades away and the masked man forms. You find yourself missing the sarcastic, sweet Tim you knew. The one you loved.

Now, you've accepted that there no longer is a beginning and an end. There's only him. The cruel enigma. The master of the house that keeps you rooted at home out of fear of what would happen if you left.

"I'm keeping you safe," he told you one night, stroking your hair, "From him."

You never ask who that him is.

You can tell that he's afraid of something, and it isn't just a fear of losing you. There's something outside of this place that he's hiding you from. Something that has even a bastard like him scared. Something that he serves, much in the same way he expects you to serve him.

Tim, or whoever he is, spins you around suddenly and sits you atop the dryer, pushing himself past your clasped knees to press against you. His lips find yours, and all you can taste is burning tobacco. It's stale, smokey. Warm and demanding. It makes you want to gag. It makes you want to melt.

"You can touch me," he reminds you, though it's more of an order. You force yourself to put your hands on his shoulders, the polyester feel of his jacket stiff under your hands.

"That's it. I love you."

He says it often, even though you never return the sentiment like you used to.

"Tell me you love me," he growls, serious. Your heart stops beating in your chest.

"Of course I love you," you squeak out.

He gives you a peck on the lips.

"Tell me you need me."

You pause. You don't need him. In fact, you'd be better off without him.

He shakes you a little bit, watching you expectantly.

"I'm nothing without you," you mumble, and that seems to be enough because his face melts, and his lips are back on yours.

His hand drifts up your thigh, and you embrace your role.

#yandere masky #yandere tim wright #creepypasta x reader #masky x reader #tim wright x reader

[rosesfromslashers]

MASKY/TIM WRIGHT X READER HEADCANONS

Help I'm rewatching Marble Hornets and it's makin' me thirsty. Warnings for kind of yandere vibes at the end.

SFW

Craves a sense of domesticity

Can't wait to come home to you and your arms after being gone for days

Speaking of, he never tells you he's going, slipping out in the middle of the night, leaving you alone

When the fugue is gone and he remembers that, it makes him feel so, so bad

Recognizes that he's a neglectful lover due to the situation and wants to fix that.

But when you're dealing with Masky - oh boy.

Masky is COLD cold, but like Tim, craves your love and affection

Very needy of physical attention, though

Will crawl back into your bed in the middle of the night, mask still on.

It's... kind of unnerving to wake up to.

Has no intention of hurting you. Though he does hurt your feelings many times, his main goal is to keep you safe from the Operator.

Plz remind Tim to take his pills.

THE SEXY STUFF

Wants to burn his cigarettes out on you. Up to you whether or not you let him.

Speaking of which, sometimes smokes during sex whether you protest or not

Would border on being a service dom if he wasn't so demanding.

Masky is much more forward than Tim. Not afraid to make advances that can come across as frightening.

Loves to push and pull you around in the bedroom.

Have fun going along on the ride.

#marble hornets #masky x reader #tim wright x reader #creepypasta x reader

[rosesfromslashers]

Sickness - Eyeless Jack X Reader

Yup, I've been officially dragged into my old creepypasta phase. Enjoy some angst with a special appearance from everyone's favorite tentacle daddy.

He first encountered the being on a fall morning.

Jack left you curled up in bed, wrapped in his blankets and scent. He kissed the top of your head before departing, knowing that you were safe in your shared cabin.

He slipped into jeans and a simple black T-shirt before leaving your room for the kitchen, where he started the percolator. Jack hoped the smell of fresh coffee wouldn't wake you. The clock read 6 AM, much too early for you to be up. But he knew you would be thankful when he brought you a cup after you had awoken with a cute little yawn he loved so much. He picked his mask and book up off the table.

Jack slipped out the front door, not letting the screen door clatter shut for fear of waking you. The metallic creak was loud enough. The sky was gray beyond the gnarled, bare tree branches. The ground was covered in a layer of decaying leaves, patches of orange and red still hanging on. A gentle, thick mist was laid upon the forest. It was a cold day, perfect for staying in. But he had the urge to enjoy the fresh air; to feel that humanlike sense of tranquility you had instilled in him.

He sat on the wooden porch swing, leafing through the old psychology textbook until he reached the page he was on last night. Psychology was never his strong suit, and it especially wasn't now that he was cursed. Ever since meeting you, however, he found it necessary to understand the human mind as much as he did the anatomy of the body.

His mask sat beside him, just within reach.

It was a rustle in the treeline. Too quiet for human ears, but to him, it was as loud as a tree falling in the woods.

He shot up, slipping on his blue mask, a tar like substance having stained the plastic much like around his sockets. He reached into his back pocket to find that he had left his knife inside. Perfect.

He scanned the thick treeline, body tense. This was his domain. Your domain. And he would protect his territory.

There was nothing.

But he couldn't blame it on a mouse or a curious deer. There was a lightness to the air, as if the oxygen had been sucked up into the ether. Instead, the woods were filled with static, buzzing as if lightning were about to strike. Then he felt it - something trying to crawl into his mind. Trying to speak to him beyond the edge of his power.

"Jack?"

He turned to find you, wearing nothing but his oversized black hoodie, standing in the doorway. A little cough left your throat.

"Is everything okay?" you asked sleepily. Warely. "Why are you wearing your mask?"

Jack assured you everything was fine and ushered you inside.

The second time, it spoke to him.

He sharpened his scalpels, preparing for tomorrow night's hunt. You sat on the sofa, journaling in a notebook. It was a hobby you had recently taken up. One that he found ever so endearing. Humans lived such short, sad lives. He found it interesting how, in that short time, they tried so hard to document it.

He smelled the blood before it leaked from your nose and onto your upper lip.

"What the hell?" You stood up, dabbing at the blood. Jack rushed to you, concerned.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he fretted, dabbing at the blood with his hoodie's sleeve. It wasn't the first time it met blood, but never had it taken on yours.

"I don't know, it just started bleeding," you said, "I'm really tired, too. I think I'm going to go to bed now."

He could sense something was off with you. Normally he could smell, could sense, illness creeping up on you. You did look slightly ill, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. It was like whatever it was was hiding inside of you.

"Here, let me get something for you to hold to your nose." He ran his thumb over your cheek before going into the kitchen, pulling a clean rag from the drawer.

"Do you enjoy her company?"

Jack stopped. That same static feeling was back, but this time the air felt heavy with a presence.

"What?" he asked aloud, looking around the small cabin. He saw you in the living room, brows creased in confusion. 

"I didn't say anything."

"No, it was something else, I think there's something here." he clarified, then he ordered you to go into the bedroom. And to lock the door. You listened, hurrying into the other room. He heard the click of a lock. The presence left, leaving the space feeling empty.

The third time, you threw yourself out of bed and into the bathroom, leaning over the toilet to gag.

He chased after you, holding your hair. He felt something he hadn't felt since he was human. Fear. True worry.

"Are you sick?" he pressed, placing a cold rag to your forehead. Your coughing had also gotten worse on top of your recurring nausea. For a moment, he got excited. It was early in the morning, and here you were getting sick. Could it possibly be-

No. He would sense it. Another life in your shared home.

Instead, he sensed carion.

That otherworldly thing was back.

"I- I don't know. I really don't feel good, Jack."

He pulled you into his arms, sitting on the bathroom floor.

The final time, he came.

Disrupted your home. Your life. Caused you to collapse to the floor, pale and unconscious. Blood had begun to leak from your nose as you crumpled. Jack was there in a flash, helping you to the floor.

"You never answered my question."

Jack looked up, and there he was. Tall next to your front door, donned in a black suit. Faceless. Hands clasped behind his back in a dignified manner.

"What are you?" Jack growled out. This wasn't another creature of hell, a demon come to taunt him and take you from him. This was something else. Something eldritch and ancient, commanding power. Power that a strong being like Jack wouldn't give it.

"Do. You. Enjoy. Her company?" the faceless being asked again, enunciating each word. 

"Get the fuck out of our house," Jack demanded, low and quiet. "What do you want?"

"A simple question. You really don't know who I am?" The creature vanished, reappearing closer with a crackle in the air.

"No, and I don't care. Now leave us alone!" Jack's voice raised as he clutched your limp body closer.

"I have many names," the being continued, answering his own question, "I am the stalker of the woods. The disrupter of sanity. The taker of children."

Jack would've blinked if he still had eyes.

"And I know who you are, Jack. I've followed you for quite some time now, just out of the corner of your perception. I've admired your work."

Jack held you closer as the slender being seemed to drift nearer.

"I want you to join me. I have several mentees, none of your power. You'd be a valuable asset."

Jack's face twisted. "So that's why you're doing this to her? You're trying to recruit me to your little crew?"

"I don't know if I find your admiration for such a frail creature as a human charming or pathetic." Jack bristled at the insult towards you. How dare this… creature come into your lives, harm you, make you ill, and now come to collect Jack's cooperation.

He looked down at your closed eyes and bloody face.

"I can make it stop. Join me, leave this girl here, and we'll take our leave."

"Fuck. You." Jack retorted, pulling your head against his strong chest.

"I see my methods aren't working quite yet," the creature spoke into his mind, "I'll take my leave, but know that I will return. I don't take kindly to rejection."

Then it was gone, and your eyes were fluttering open.

"Jack?" you croaked out, "What happened?"

He held you tight.

"I'm still figuring it out."

#eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta x reader #slenderman

[rosesfromslashers]

Eyeless Jack X Reader - Pregnancy/Parenthood Headcanons

Because y'all wanna give the big scary cannibal demon a breeding kink but never develop on the fluff smdh

Can def sense it before you ever even realize what's going on. He can basically smell your shift in hormones and has gotten to know you so well that he can just tell when something's amiss. He finds it funny that the roles are reversed and HE'S the one that has to break the news.

Allaccordingtoplan.exe

He knew from the moment he fell in love with you, a mere human, that his end goal was children; an heir to cement your place together and his presence in this realm.

He already treats you like you're made of glass, fully of the (reasonable) mindset that humans are weak, fragile beings. Once he knows that you're expecting, this is turned up by 10 notches. Prepare to never reach for anything ever again, and stepladders are out of the question.

Becomes extra clingy. You're kind of stuck in the cabin the two of you call home, as he doesn't want you going places that he can't follow. His ultimate fear is that the unearthly nature of your relationship, and your child, would be discovered and you would be taken from him.

Don't worry though! While it was never his specialty (and certainly isn't now), he was a med student afterall. He knows enough to keep you safe and healthy. What he doesn't know, he spends hours researching.

Along those lines, you want for nothing. Your role is to stay home and look pretty while carrying his child. You need something? He'll track it down for you.

Loves to just lay on the couch, head pressed to your abdomen, taking in the life-force growing inside of you.

Will try and tempt you to eat... human organs. For the health of the baby. Ya know.

Don't do it, please

When your son is born, he's over the moon and surprisingly content at how normal the baby looks.

He expected gray, dead skin like his. Abyssal eyes. Sharp teeth and claws.

Instead, he's presented with a normal, human looking child. But don't get him wrong, the kid is as powerful and dark natured as his father.

Makes a surprisingly good father and partner. He takes an active role in raising your child. Loves taking the two of you out for strolls in the woods or playtime out in the grass.

Kind of a tough love parent, though. He prefers to lead by example, too.

Overall 9/10 best demon daddy

#I literally do not want children why can I not get this concept out of my head #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta x reader #I'm officially back in my middle school creepypasta phase

[rosesfromslashers]

[rosesfromslashers]

[rosesfromslashers]

Honestly be pretentious as fuck about the stuff you create. Do a press release for your fanfic updates. Do a Q&A about your webcomic. Make fake merch designs for your OCs. Commission "official" book covers. Very few of us will ever get to a stage where something we've created Makes It Big but even if you have an audience of 5 people plus a shoelace fucking indulge yourself and pretend!! It's the only way to live!!

[rosesfromslashers]

Promotional shots for Within the Woods (1979)

[rosesfromslashers]

Susan Sarandon in THE HUNGER (1983) dir. Tony Scott

[rosesfromslashers]

can you please make a part 2 of deep ellum?? i’m obsessed with that fic, i can’t stop rereading it im kinda hooked<3333 i love your fics btw:333

I would love to, and have been thinking of doing a part 2 now that my writing has improve!!! Stay tuned 💖

[rosesfromslashers]

my son beef

[rosesfromslashers]

Hello everyone!

I just wanted to promo my new long form The Thing fanfic, The Warmest Place to Hide, over here in case you guys aren't keeping up with my AO3! It's gonna be a wild one taking the canon of all three and mushing it together for a dark alien romance. I hope you guys enjoy it!

It's been almost a year since MacReady left for Antarctica; almost a year since he left you alone in sunny Los Angeles. And now that he's returned, you're happier than ever. But underneath your bliss, something dark - something otherworldly - is lurking. MacReady isn't who (or what) he seems to be, and you know it. Something bad happened at that research station in the Arctic, and you're about to find out just how deep the conspiracy runs.

#the thing 1982 #R.J. MacReady #R.J. Macready x Reader #The Thing x Reader

[rosesfromslashers]

Me the first time I noticed that Chop Top was crying after Stretch killed Grandma Sawyer

#chop top sawyer #texas chainsaw massacre 2

[rosesfromslashers]

So I am queen "fuck them kids" but I just can't get this concept outta my head! Here's a lil Chop Top X Reader about starting a life together. Warnings for talks of pregnancy, babies, and unprotected sex. Enjoy!

He proposes so many crazy things when the two of you are in the back of his truck, parked somewhere far away from the Sawyer household, away from prying ears and eyes.

He's always so loud. Giggly. Talkative. Everywhere he goes. But out here, with just you, he's unusually quiet and pensive, deep in thought and bordering on philosophical.

It's almost always light-hearted. Whispered hypotheticals and random thoughts in the more than occasional throes of passion. Nothing too serious, as he's not a serious man when he doesn't want to be.

But Bobby - and out here with you, he is Bobby - can be serious, and often times is. Regailing you horror stories of the war, his worries about his family, his dissatisfaction with the way things are. Even his thoughts and distaste of mainstream politics.

About the life he wants to have with just you.

You can tell it's going to be another one of those serious nights when after you two separate, he begins slowly playing with your hair and breathing deeper, his rabbit-fast heartbeat calming down under your ear.

Then he says it.

"I wanna baby."

You laugh gently, "Oh yeah?"

So the conversation isn't turning serious then, you think. It's going to be one of those nights where he rapid-fire lists off all the little things floating around in his head. All of the little thoughts and fantasies that he has but will never really go out of his way to make happen.

But he doesn't continue on with a different thought.

"Mhm," he hums, a smile to his tone, "I-I think you'd make a real good momma."

No, you wouldn't, you think. And the Sawyer household, this world and this relationship, isn't the kind to bring a baby into.

Robert "Chop-Top" Sawyer isn't the kind of man to be a father; he has done too many awful things in his life, and a part of you hurts to admit it.

And he knows that's the case, but it won't stop him from thinking about it.

He doesn't stop bringing it up after that, either. While laying in bed, or exploring the abandoned theme park the Sawyers call home, or doing the dishes.

"What if we had twins!" he exclaims randomly, handing you a mug, "Ya know, they run in the family. You see, Nubbins and I-"

Then he goes on and on, stuck in a beautiful daydream world where the two of you can build that life together.

You try not to let it sway you, but goddamn is his energy infectious, and one night, when he makes a move on you, you tell him to keep the protection in the drawer.

It's unlikely to happen anyways, you reason. He'd told you about his exposure to Agent Orange and the effects it's had on him. He'd even vented about his concerns that maybe this little pipedream couldn't happen. He'd heard from the VA that it causes infertility, something he made sure to tell you long before he got the idea in his head that the two of you, the messes that you are, should start a family of your own.

Your own little clan of cannibals.

That concept still turns your stomach. You refuse to eat... other people. But would any potential children be expected to partake in the family tradition?

It's anxieties like that that run through your head when he pushes inside of you, unprotected, for the first time.

They melt away at just how happy and excited he is about the prospect.

And when it does happen, when he lifts you up in a spin and laughs until he cries, you're happy and excited, too.

#chop top x reader #slasher community #slasher x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre 2 #chop top sawyer #my fics

[rosesfromslashers]

Domesticity - Michael Myers X Reader

Remember that post I made about Loomis seeing you having a soft moment with Michael and going ??????????? Here's a fic based on that. Enjoy!

Dr Loomis can't believe he didn't warn you, of all people. Then again, surely you should know by now.

Michael had escaped Smith's Grove. He had escaped your very own workplace.

You were always a good nurse, Loomis thought. Punctual, professional, attentive, if not a bit too kind and compassionate. Particularly to him.

To the Shape of Haddonfield.

He had to warn you. There was a high chance that you would be on Michael's list of potential victims, given the presence you had in his life. Dr. Loomis couldn't bare to have more blood spilled, especially yours.

He came to your home in the dead of night, awash in the glow of your open window, out on your front walk, preparing to knock on your door.

He saw you, flitting around your living room, fluffing couch cushions and straightening coffee table books, as if you were expecting company. He regretted that that company would be him, telling you of the danger you were sure to face. Regretted that you would need to leave your quaint, boxy house for safety in a distant city.

Why were you doing this, he wondered. Did you not know of the monster lurking the steets of Haddonfield? Why waste your time on this when you should be on the run?

You wiped your hands on your pants with a deep breath and a smile, and turned to the entryway to the living room.

That's when he entered, slow and steady, floating out of the shadows and into your place of domesticity.

The Shape. The monster. Michael Myers.

Dr. Loomis went to shout, to bang on your window, to yell for you to run.

But at the sight of Michael, you did the opposite.

With a school girl's lightness to your step, you went to him, and to Loomis's surprise, into his arms. Michael wrapped his around you in return, pulling you into a tight hug.

Loomis's mouth hung open in shock as you reached up and removed his mask.

Then Michael tilted your chin up into a kiss.

He wanted to stumble back, to run to the police, but he was cemented in place, a hapless voyeur to your blissful moment.

You put your head against his chest, hand tangled in his blue utility suit. Michael placed his head atop of yours, and there was this sense of... calm to him. Simplicity. Comfort. It both confused Loomis and made him sick.

Michael locked eyes with him, and Loomis saw the embodiment of death in those eyes, wrapped up in you.

He finally stumbled back, eyes still locked with Michael's as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

Michael Myers was a monster, and perhaps, in a way, you were, too.

#michael myers x y/n #michael myers x reader #michael myers #dr loomis #slasher x reader #slasher fic #slasher community #my fics