the-daily-slasher

[the-daily-slasher]

The Butcher's Daughter [pt.1]

This is a multi-part slow burn with Thomas Hewitt cause I needed something to write on my off day. There will be spice at some point, and of course: general trigger warnings. Don’t like 18+ scenes/horror/blood/ etc.? That’s ok, just don’t read this one, friend. It will be rather upsetting to you.

Time-Line and Continuity: Sticks mainly to the reboot duology: Texas Chainsaw (2003) and Texas Chainsaw: The Beginning (2006). This story takes place pre-1969. The story will have elements of Texas Chainsaw: The Beginning (2006) and Texas Chainsaw (2003 Remake). The story takes place in the abandoned town seen in those movies, but is an hour drive outside of Harlow, Texas (as seen in Texas Chainsaw 3D) for purposes of plot.

Summary: After your mother's death, your father, driven down a bottle with grief, loses his butcher shop to creditors. Wanting to escape his debts, he chooses to move back to his hometown. Not wanting to lose your last family member and being hopeful of a new start, you go with him. It's a ghost town, but he appreciates the solitude and it allows for enough space to start a small cattle farm. He's happy his old drinking buddy Charlie Hewitt is still in town. His mother, Luda Mae is very happy to have 'neighbors' down the road and feels motherly towards the girl, hoping to take her under her wing. She also can't help but think of the potential for her boy to finally have the chance at a friend.

Note: Reader age is unspecified but reader is of age. I keep hair/skin/body descriptions vague [without sacrificing quality of writing] so everyone can see themselves in the story.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"This place is really out there." You say. Your father is taking his turn driving the old pick-up out to his hometown.

"Use to be farmers out here. Lots of space, no one in your business that you don't want there. You'll like it." He says, hoping you weren't regretting joining him. Though you had lost your job when the family business went under, you didn't have to come with him. "Besides, after a couple weeks I should be able to get a farm hand or two. You could move to Harlow or go finish that degree you were working on."

You smile. "A farm hand out here?" You look out over the dry fields of what used to be sunflowers.

"Sure." You dad says, a playful grin on his face, "I'm sure there's an armadillo or two that could use a steady job." The two of you laugh a little to ignore the weighted reality -- your father needed your help to make this work and there was no way you would be able to avoid the creditors if you moved anywhere else. You told him many times this was your choice, that you wanted to help, but you knew you really had no other option. At least not at the moment.

Your father was not a good man and was not often plagued by guilt for his actions, but he cared for you. The two of you spend the rest of the ride talking about the old house your father had inherited from his parents when they passed away. It's a classic farmhouse layout, a full upstairs you'll get all to yourself. A wraparound porch would be the perfect place to sit outside and watch the sunset. You knew he was painting a picture that was too good to be true, but he seemed happy.

It's mid-afternoon by the time you're pulling into the dusty drive of the house. It's far from the road and the yard surrounding is green and overgrown. The fence around the house has fallen down in several places and remnants of a vegetable and herb garden have grown unchecked and un-weeded in the back of the house.

You help your dad take boxes into the house, taking your things upstairs and your father's things into the bedroom on the ground floor. The house was big but needed cleaning. Everything was covered in a thin layer of sand-like dust and it was obvious no one had been in the house for years.

In the process of getting everything out of the truck, you notice the garden in the back had several, late-season vegetables. Once the boxes are all inside, you go about picking what you can while your dad works on the house's generator. It'd be nice to have something other than bologna sandwiches for dinner.

You found some old baskets in the kitchen pantry, you've already been able to fill two baskets with mustard greens and sweet potatoes and small green pumpkins by the time the sun starts to go down. As you pick up the last basket you watch the lights of the house flicker on and an excited shout from your father as you hear a generator come to life. A smile plays on your features. Perhaps this would be alright.

You go inside the house, setting the basket on the counter next to three others. You start washing the dirt off your hands in the old sink when you hear a car pull into the driveway. A door opens and you hear a gruff voice call your dad's name. "Charlie! You old son of a bitch- you're still here?" You hear your father reply to the man and you peek outside the front room window. An older man with deep features gets out of a beat-up pickup and your dad walks towards him.

"Who the fuck you callin' old, you old cocksucker?" The old man laughs heartily and your father embraces "Charlie".

The two men talk for a few minutes. Your father comes back in, the old man "Charlie" getting back in his truck and leaving.

"Hey, you feel like going out for dinner?" He asks.

"Out?" You ask, confused. You're getting dirt off a basket of sweet potatoes when he comes in.

"That was an old friend of mine, Charlie Hewitt. He and his folks still live around here. Their house is a half mile down the road and his mama is doing a roast tonight." He goes to the sink to wash his hands, dark oil staining the fresh bar of soap by the sink.

You hesitate, but smile, "Sure, dad. Sounds great."

Your old man splashes water on his face and runs his hands through his hair before drying his hands. "Go clean up and we'll head over on that way. Gonna change m'self."

"Like Sunday dinner kind of clean up or just 'no dirt on my hands' clean up?" You set the basket aside and dust your hands off on your jeans.

"Nothin' fancy. His mama's just old fashion- likes dinner to be a little more proper. 'Specially if it's guests." He starts to walk away. "Let's leave in a few, alright?"

You wash your hands, fix your hair, and find an old, corn-yellow dress. It's modest, the hem going down to your shins and the collar buttoning up to the base of your neck. Linen and tailored at the waist, it ruffles in the light breeze as you stand on the porch of the Hewitt household in dusty, white canvas shoes. The air has cooled but you still feel heat coming off the wood of the porch when Luda Mae answers the door.

"Bill! It's good to see you, hun." Luda Mae smiles and opens the door wide and her eyes go to you. "My god she looks just like Beth." You're surprised to hear your mother's name out of the mouth of a stranger but smile politely. Luda Mae smiles, "Luda Mae Hewitt, sweetheart. You must be y/n. I knew both of your parents long before you were born. It's nice to meet you." She welcomes you into the house with a hug. "Come on in Bill. Charlie's having a beer on the back porch with Monty, why don't you join them? I need a little time to finish getting supper ready." She looks at you, "Would you mind? I need a little help getting the table set." She smiles kindly as she leads the two further into the house. It's modest, a little dirty, but everything around this town seemed to be a little grimy.

Your father nods and follows her, making sure you were trailing behind. "The house looks great, Luda. Your boy still helping you around the house?"

"Tommy mostly works at the slaughterhouse nowadays but he still does the heavy lifting around the house and the store when I need him to." She lets him out onto the back porch where he's greeted with friendly, though swear-filled jeers from Charlie and Monty.

"Um how-how can I help?" You ask.

"There're some blue and white plates up on the top shelf of that cabinet. Get them down and set the table for six, dear."

"Yes, ma'am." Luda Mae smiles at your manners. You do as she asks as she gets a roast out of the stove. You carry plates to the dining room and set them out. You hear the side door open and heavy footsteps in the kitchen when you walk back in.

"Excuse me, Miss Luda Mae? I set the plates out. Where do you keep the silverware?" You look up to see a very tall man in a leather, half-mask and slaughterhouse apron. He's splattered with blood and his hair is matted. You shrink back a little when he turns his head and see you. His eyes were intense.

"Y/n this is Thomas. Tommy, this is Y/n, Bill and Beth's daughter. Y/n and Bill moved in down the road. They're staying for dinner so go get cleaned up." She tells her son.

"Nice to meet you." You smile politely and he stiffens slightly before nodding to you and heading up the stairs quickly.

"Don't mind him, dear. Terribly shy." She laughs a little bit and hands Y/n silverware and napkins.

You get the table set and Luda Mae brings in the roast, mashed potatoes, rolls, and a few other things. You help with the last few preparations and Luda Mae calls the men into the dining room. Monty, Charlie, and your father were all different levels of drunk but Luda Mae scares them into acting pretty sober. Thomas comes down in clean clothes and his hair brushed and sits at the table. Luda Mae makes sure he sits next to you. He doesn't say anything the during dinner but Luda Mae is charming and talks to Y/n.

Your father, Charlie, and Monty ignore you for the most part, happy to jeer at each other, cuss, and make off-color jokes just tame enough not to get hit with Luda Mae’s wooden spoon. That’s not to say the two friends of your father don’t recognize your existence. Both men’s eyes wander every part of you, lingering for a little too long. But that’s as far as they go. Bill was a son of a bitch, that’s why they liked him, but he cared fiercely for you. Charlie and Monty knew a single stray comment towards you was a guaranteed ass beating.

“You work at the slaughterhouse?” You ask Thomas, not really expecting an answer. You were alright with a one-sided conversation, but you needed something to tune out the drunk laughter on the other end of the table. “That must be interesting. I’ve never been in a slaughterhouse. Dad and I used to do something similar, though it was just a small butcher’s shop we ran.” You smile charmingly, doing your best to be the kind guest. “Working in a slaughterhouse sounds more interesting, honestly. ‘Specially since you wouldn’t have to deal with some of the customers dad and I would have regularly.”

Thomas tilts his head towards you to listen better as you talk. He offers a confirming “huff” when asked if he works at the slaughterhouse. His eyes stay on you. You were small compared to him, and utterly adorable. You really were interested in his work? More than that, you’d worked in a butcher’s shop? You weren’t a weak build, you had some muscle on you from the work you did. But still, he couldn’t imagine the girl in front of him enjoying what he enjoyed.

Everyone finishes dinner and Luda Mae asks you to help clear the table so you do. All the windows in the bottom floor of the house were open to let the cool, evening breeze through. Your dress ruffles when a stronger breeze blows through and Thomas catches a whiff of your light perfume. He watches as you help his mother, not realizing he was staring until his Uncle Monty points it out, laughing drunkenly.

“Well shit, Bill. Better keep track of your daughter.” He laughs.

“ ‘Fuck you talking about?” Your dad laughs a bit, finishing another beer.

“Ol’ Tommy here can’t keep his damn eyes off her. Got a crush there big boy?” He slurs out and is met with raucous laughter from Charlie.

Bill takes a second and looks Thomas up and down. “Good luck.” He says, “She’d kick your ass.” He says through building laughter.

Luda Mae comes back in the dining room with a cake and you trail behind her with plates. You see the three men laughing and Thomas sitting silently. Charlie and Monty make a couple more cutting remarks towards Thomas and you realize they’re all laughing at his expense. You see your dad open his mouth to join in the jeering.

“Dad.” You say, voice low but firm. It catches his attention immediately and he looks at you. “Don’t.” Thomas looks at you again. Having anyone besides his mother be on his side… it was unusual, but it was nice.

“Sorry kiddo. We ‘ere just havin’ a bit of fun.” He slurs a bit, but he does looks genuinely sorry. Charlie and Monty start to jab at your father when Luda Mae puts them in their place.

Everyone enjoys dessert and you help Luda Mae and Thomas clean up the dishes.

“Dinner was great, Luda Mae.” You say, putting away the last of the dishes. “Thank you so much.”

“Anytime, dear. It was nice to have company over. I enjoyed myself.” She sets the dish towel down that was in her hand. “Do you need help getting Bill back home?”

“I can just drive him home, it’s not a big deal.” It’s then you realize that during the course of doing the dishes, the dining room had gone quiet. You peek back in and see all three men slumped at the table, passed out.

Luda Mae chuckles. “Maybe so but you might want some help loadin’ him up in the truck and dragging him into the house.” She looks at Thomas. “Tommy, get Charlie and Monty upstairs then help Y/n get Bill home.”

Thomas nods and goes and picks up Charlie and his uncle, one under each arm and hauls them upstairs. A few minutes later he’s putting your father in the back seat of the truck and sitting in the passenger side as you drive down the road towards your new home. You can feel his eyes on you, even in the dark of the cabin.

“…I’m sorry if my dad said anything awful.” You say finally to break the silence. “He’s not always like that.”

Thomas huffs quietly in acknowledgement.

“And thank you for helping me get him back to the house. It’d’ve been quite a sight if I’d tried to drag him into the truck myself.” You laugh a little bit at the thought, trying to make light of it all. Thomas feels the smallest twinge of a smile on his face when seeing you laugh.

Once at the house he carries your dad over his shoulder and into his bedroom setting him on the bed. He walks back out into the foyer where you stand, “Here, I’ll give you a ride back home.”

This surprises Thomas a bit but he nods. You really were one of the kindest people he’d met. He walks out to the truck with you but gets to the driver side first. He reaches and opens the door and waits, watching you. After a moment you realize what he’s doing.

“Ah. Thank you, Thomas.” You smile and get into the truck and he closes the door behind you before getting into the truck himself. Your smile causes his heart to tighten. Every smile he could get, he wanted.

You drive him back to his home, making a little more pleasant small talk, and Thomas listened contently. He liked your voice.

Once back, he waits for you to put the truck in park and gets out.

“Goodnight, Thomas.” You give a small wave and drive away. He watches you drive away, raising his hand in a small wave, a barely audible grumble coming from his throat.

“…y/…..n….”

#slashers #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt #slasher imagines #thomas hewitt x reader #slasher community #slow burn #texas chainsaw massacre

[the-daily-slasher]

Moved countries. I’m back. Daily posts returning.

[the-daily-slasher]

[the-daily-slasher]

Hannibal 2x10 deleted scene

will graham IS a lesbian

#hannibal #hannigram

[the-daily-slasher]

Slasher & an S/O That Deals with Depressive Episodes

Went through one myself yesterday. Needing some comfort. Hopefully this helps y’all too.

Obvious trigger warning: talking about depression

Contains: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

. . . . . . . . .

Michael Myers

Why were you sad? What happened? Who caused it? Questions race in his mind as he sees you sit on the floor of your room, you back against your bed. The room is filthy, clothes everywhere. Your face is blank with tears drying on your cheeks.

You don’t hear him walk in, but you feel him lift you up. He holds you in his arms off the ground, cradling you almost. He asks no questions, makes no sound.

He sits on your bed and keeps you in his lap and in his arms, just hoping that holding you was enough. You’d talk again. He knew this. And when you did he’d listen.

Jason Voorhees

He comes home to your shared cabin and sees you on the floor. You scare him at first with your silence. We’re you sick? Hurt? Why did your face hold no expression as tears rolled down your cheeks? Your eyes stared at a void that wasn’t there.

Once he knew you weren’t seriously hurt or injured he’d calm down slightly. He’d approach you carefully, hot chocolate in hand. That was something his mother had always done to comfort him. You look up and try to feign a smile and it breaks his heart. He doesn’t know what’s wrong but he knows he wants to fix it. He sets down the hot coco and picks you up off the floor. He sits you on the bed and hands you the mug. He gets a fluffy blanket and puts it around your shoulders.

His mind searches for what else he can do. Finally he settles on sitting next you, pulling you into his lap, and holding you — bundled in a blanket and all — until the bad feelings go away.

#slasher x reader #slasher imagines #michael myers #jason voorhees #fluff #hurt/comfort

[the-daily-slasher]

Hannibal Incorrect Quotes

Back on my Hannibal brain rot and I'm taking all of you with me.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Y/n: Sure is muggy outside this morning.

Hannibal: . . .

Hannibal: If all our mugs are sitting on the lawn I'm divorcing you.

Y/n: . . . *sips coffee from a bowl*

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Will Graham: Can we get McDonalds?

Hannibal: We have food at home.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Will Graham: *walks into the house*

Y/n: What's under your coat?

Will Graham, coat wriggling: Nothing.

"Will's Coat": *barks*

Will Graham: . . . ok but you can't be mad.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Y/n: The Cheasapeake Ripper is likely a cannibal. I bet his name is ridiculous.

Hannibal: . . .

Y/n: Probably f*ckin rhymes too. Like Heasapeake Lipper.

Hannibal: . . .

Y/n: . . .

Y/n: Maybe I should ask my friend Haggrivated Lassault.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Y/n: I spilled lipstick in your Valentino bag.

Hannibal: wha- WHa- Whua- LIPSTICK in my Valentino white bag?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hannibal: I am here to cause problems on purpose.

Will Graham: A beautiful to play in traffic.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hannibal: If it's the thought that counts then I should be in jail.

Police: Sir you're being charged with multiple counts of first-degree homicide.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

#slashers #slasher imagines #hannibal lecter #murder husbands #will graham #hannibal imagine

[the-daily-slasher]

We love supportive parents.

Welp, my mom is reading my Michael Myers fanfic.

I am unsure how to feel.

[the-daily-slasher]

Slashers & a gym rat S/O

Warming up on the treadmill and don’t want to look at people so here you go.

Short slasher imagine for all you sleezey slasher f*ckers.

Michael Myers:

He appreciates it only because of the affect it has on your stamina. That …and him having an S/O with some strength/speed would be interesting.

Thomas Hewitt:

You can hold your own on the Hewitt farm and property and that gives him great peace of mind. (You’re still his little sunflower but still).

Patrick Bateman:

Loves that his S/O takes care of themselves. (But 100% will get jealous of you if your body is better than his. Even so, that jealousy he feels towards you would just come out in the bedroom, so not really a downside)

Jason Voorhees:

Loves the idea of you chopping wood no matter your stature. He loves watching you do anything physical. (Will still 100% be protective and treat you like a kitten though)

Brahms:

Just wants to know if you’ll do n*de yoga. That’s it.

#thomas hewitt #slashers #horror #slashers x reader #michael myers #slasher imagines #jason voorhees #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader

[the-daily-slasher]

Slashers & an S/O with a 9 to 5

Happy Monday and in honor of all of us with a 9 to 5 and adult obligations I present how each of the slashers react to and deal with an S/O with a 9 to 5 job.

Slasher List: Michael Myers (RZ & OG), Jason Voorhees (OG & 2009 Remake), Brahms, Thomas Hewitt

Michael Myers (RZ):

No. Why?

He'd be dead asleep when your alarm clock would go off during the weekdays. (He'd crushed, thrown, and destroyed a few at this point, yet you always brought another one home from the dollar store)

Your hand hits the alarm before he has a chance to crush it in his. You roll over to get out of bed but his arms tighten around you. A simple, tired grunt asks you to stay as he hides his face in the back of your neck.

"Michael... please." You yawn and try again to sit up but he won't let you. You sigh and lay down, turning toward him and kiss his forehead. "I have to go to work, baby."

Michael just grunts in reply once more. He knew you had to leave but he wasn't happy about it.

Some days he does his best to play the role of househusband.

You'd come home to flowers ripped from the neighbor's yard laying on the table (chunks of dirt still attached to the roots and stems slightly crushed)

Other days (most of the time) he follows you all day. Sometimes you are aware of it, sometimes not. Either way, he views it as his job to protect you.

Michael Myers (OG):

If you're both sleeping in the same bed, good luck trying to get up on time. He won't sleep often, but when he does, he sleeps hard and he does not like being woken up.

He will rip out the insides of any alarm clock that wakes him up (or stab it).

He doesn't sleep often, even around you. He'd much rather watch you sleep. He feels powerful holding you as you sleep. It annoys him when you have to get up and go to work. But he understands the necessity of it.

You going to work puts food on the table and helps him maintain his hiding spot at your house. If you were late or didn't show up he knew people would come looking for you and find him.

He is much more affectionate when he thinks you're asleep. He runs his hands through your hair and holds you against his chest.

Jason Voorhees (OG):

Househusband of the year.

Granted, he hates that you have to leave every day.

Massive Separation Anxiety

He often questions if you'll come back home to him or if this time you're leaving for good.

In the morning when your alarm goes off he shuts it off gently if he wakes up before you. He'll hold you close and rub the small of your back to help you wake up. There'll be no 'being late' in this household! (His mother wouldn't approve)

You roll over to face your big, scary husband. You kiss his shoulder and mutter a quiet 'good morning'. It's met with a happy sigh out and a kiss on your forehead. He holds you for a few minutes, but soon he escapes your arms and goes to make coffee to help you wake up.

As I stated previously, being late is not an option.

Jason Voorhees (2009):

Hates. Hates. Hates that you have to leave every morning five days a week.

Some mornings he doesn't even allow it. You've had to 'call in sick' more than once. Luckily your job is fairly understanding as jobs go.

When your alarm goes off you wake up laying on his chest, a bear-skin blanket laying over both of you. The early morning chill causes you to pull the blanket up closer to both of you.

His quiet, deep breathing shifts, indicating that he's woken up as well. You're greeted with a huff when you kiss his cheek with a 'good morning, love'. His hands find their way to your hips and he holds you against him. You feel something press against your inner thigh as he nuzzles his face in the nape of your neck. You already knew his would be another 'call in sick' type of morning.

Brahms:

No. Absolutely not!

In his mind, he is your full time job.

Every morning the two of you wake up to your alarm he tries another excuse, another proposition, another way to convince you not to go in that morning. He's begged, pleaded, pouted, argued, and even tried convincing you in "spicier" ways ever so eager to please you (especially if it keeps you in bed all day and away from that office job he hates so much).

On occasion you do give in, deciding to call in sick or with car troubles, or something else you come up with to placate your boss.

The mornings he can get you to stay, his ego truly goes through the roof. He did it, he kept his precious doll, his beautiful mistress from leaving him that day (and he is sure to reward you for it).

Thomas Hewitt:

Understands, though begrudgingly.

Part of him wishes you were a little more invested in the Hewitt family business. The other part of him is glad to keep you as far away from that world as possible.

He often wakes up before you to take care of chores before the day gets too hot, so no need for an alarm.

You often wake up to a kiss on the cheek or forehead and the smell of breakfast somewhere in the house.

"Good morning, Tommy." You yawn as you roll onto your back. You open your eyes to see your husband standing over you and you smile sleepily, opening your arms to call him back into bed with you. He sits down beside you and pulls you into his arms and onto his lap. Your head rests against his shoulder as you wake up. He rests his head on yours and holds you until you're awake enough for a cup of coffee.

#slasher community #slashers #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #rz michael myers #og michael myers #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #friday the 13th 2009 #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #michael myers x reader #michael myers

[the-daily-slasher]

I'm self-cautious about my weight, I could use some cheering up by Jason Voorhees, but I'm not the only one with insecurity about weight-gains. So how about a headcanon for slashers with an S/O who is insecure about their weight gain after finding out from someone or by the weighing scale.

Hearing about me gaining weight made me want to go on a diet and eat less. So It'd be nice to know what the slashers would do about it to make their S/O feel better about themselves and not hurt themselves. :)

I’m terrible at choices so I only did jacey :( I’m a bit of a realist when it comes to writing slashers so sorry if he comes off a bit cold. Hope u enjoy anyway <3 ps I bet u look lovely

Jason Voorhees with a Reader that’s insecure about their weight

Your coworker had a baby last year, and finally returned to work from her family leave. You welcomed her back with a friendly smile, asking about her new bundle of joy. She seemed almost shocked to see you, eyes wide and looking you up and down

“What? What is it?” Your brow furrowed as you followed her gaze down your body

“Nothing!” The woman blurted. “It’s just… you’re a bit—bigger from when I saw you last…”

…

Jason wasn’t far from your cabin, and was alerted that you were back from work by your shoes clobbering noisily against the porch. Followed by you ripping the door open and throwing it shut

“Jason!” You barked. You looked around your cabin, noticing he wasn’t there. “Course you’re not here.” You rolled your eyes with a huff

You approached the kitchen table and dumped your bag onto it, grumbling to yourself while running a hand through your hair. As you turned on the spot, the bejesus was practically scared out of you as Jason seemingly teleported right behind you

“Oh, good. There you are.”

Jason tilted his head, wondering what got you in such a crabby mood. You lifted your hands up dramatically and purposefully parted your lips, signalling to him you were about to go on a full rant. Jason nearly audibly sighed

“You will not believe what this woman said to me today.” You gossiped like a teenager

Jason stood there like a soldier as you went on a mini tantrum about how your dumb coworker basically said that you had gotten fat

“Which is ridiculous, since she’s the one that just had a baby! Like, sorry to break it to ya, Margaret. But that bikini body is never coming back. Welcome to motherhood!” You carried on, placing one hand on your hip while the other was raised up sassily

Respectfully, Jason had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. You ignored his obvious confusion and turned away from him, going over to the fridge to get some cold water

“Like, how dare she? I was so nice to her too! And that was the first thing she said to me.” You rambled, grabbing a bottle of water and gulping it down

Jason didn’t know how to help you. He was not at all great at comfort. So instead, he simply walked out to let you cool off. That hurt your feelings a bit, but you just went about your evening anyway

Jason came back to your cabin in the nighttime, when you were getting ready for bed. He peeked his head through your bedroom door, pausing when he saw you standing in front of the mirror

You were in your pyjamas, staring intently at your reflection. Your hands went to your belly, sliding under your shirt and giving the skin a squeeze. Jason could see the big frown that crept across your features. He didn’t like it at all

He swung the door open and entered the room. You turned your head and looked at him, clearly biting back tears. He slowly walked over, standing just inches away from you

“She’s right. I have gained weight.” You sniffled

Ugh, great… now you were sad. Couldn’t you just go back to being angry? Jason could actually relate to that emotion…

“Do you think I look bad? Should I go on a diet?” You asked

You whirled back around to the mirror, studying your body while trying not to cry. Jason leered behind you, too watching you through the reflection. His shoulders slumped. Agh, you! Why’d you make him feel all this human stuff? You almost made him feel… god forbid, bad… which he thought was almost impossible

Jason reached up to his mask, carefully peeling it away from his face. Your eyes were finally ripped away from your body, now watching him in the mirror. You nearly flinched when the hockey mask hit the floor, teetering momentarily before laying still

Jason now stood unmasked behind you. You didn’t dare look back, instead having a stare off with him in the mirror. You froze up as he broke the distance between you two, pressing up against your behind. He placed both hands on either of your shoulders, slowly leaning over to rest his chin on top of your head. His hands soon traveled down your front, moving to wrap around your waist in a makeshift hug

The both of you silently stared at each other in the mirror, not moving a muscle. A single tear slipped down your cheek. It wasn’t much, but you knew that Jason was trying his best.

“Thanks, Jason.” You tearfully whispered, a smile meeting your face for the first time tonight

And just so you knew, no, he did not think you needed to go on a diet

#slasher x reader #slashers #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #friday the 13th

[the-daily-slasher]

The next installment in the Evil Dead series has been announced: Evil Dead Rise || April 21, 2023

#evil dead #ash vs evil dead #slashers #horror #horror movies #slasher community

[the-daily-slasher]

can u do slashers (preferably at least jason and then whoever) with a gn reader who will chew the shit out of their lip when stressed or thinking? I've been thinking about this all day and ur headcanons are so in character i'd love to see what you think grbrbrbbrbr

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x reader, Michael Myers x reader, Vincent Sinclair x reader (separate) headcannons

Contains: cursing, concerned slashers, stress

Jason is panicked as soon as he sees you bleeding, he’s pulling you into the bathroom and digging through the first aid for something to help

He’s listening intently as you explain that when you’re stressed you bite skin off your lips

He shakes his head in disapproval as he does his best to clean the area

He applies some liquid bandage and holds your lip as still as possible

Jason now keeps a bigger eye on you, if he sees you nibbling on your lip he will gently run his thumb along your bottom lip

Everytime you start bleeding this man freaks out

Michael is honestly 50/50 it depends on what mood he’s in

Sometimes he is quick to clean your lip

Other times he will just watch you bleed

He doesn’t make any move to stop you from doing it, he doesn’t really care until you’ve actually hurt yourself

Over time Michael will try to prevent you from doing it by eliminating stressful things in your life

You can’t be stressed about your boss if Michael murders him

That’s pretty much his logic about it

If you’re really stressed Michael will cuddle with you and give you a small tap if he notices the biting

Vincent freaks out, at first he thinks it’s a split lip from getting into a fight

Once you explain it he is much calmer but he’s still upset

Vincent will keep an eye on you and stop you from biting your lip when you can

He also has Lester pick him up a pack of gum everytime he goes into town, Lester thinks his brother just enjoys him but that’s actually how Vincent keeps you from chewing on your lips

It’s actually a surprisingly good distraction and definitely satisfies the urge

He also will often times keep you supplied with gum and chapstick

Before long you will drop the habit

Vincent is super doting and loving as he does his best to try and keep you comfy and safe even from yourself

#jason voorhees #michael myers #slasher imagines #slashers

[the-daily-slasher]

Slasher Incorrect Quotes

Brahms: When cats sleep all day they say they're cute but when I do it they say im "clinically depressed"

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Y/n: They say dinosaurs are extinct but look, Michael is walking in this room right now!

Michael: ...

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Bo: Y/n pass the salt.

Y/n: Vincent is closer.

Bo: Vincent pass the salt to Y/n.

Vincent: Passes the salt

Bo: ....

Bo: Y/n pass the salt.

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Brahms: Day 27 of no sex... I think my virginity grew back

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At Mcdonalds

Y/n: YOU SEE THIS BIG BOY

Thomas: Blushing

Y/n: This is my man. AND IF YOU DONT GIVE HIM A HAPPY MEAL-

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Brahms: Y/n Help!

Y/n: What's wrong?!

Brahms: Someone is stuck in my phone and they know my name!

Phone: Hello, I am your google assistant. What may I help you with?

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Pyramid Head: ....

Y/n: I like a guy who reminds me of geometry ;)

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Pennywise: I like eating children and tormenting their siblings for fun.

Y/n: I dont think thats a good date introduction.

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Chucky: Your very existence makes me sick!

Y/n:...

Y/n: I'm not scared of dropping a child out of a 10 story building.

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[the-daily-slasher]

I take fanfiction requests.

Rules:

- no non-con

- no under-age anything



I write for:

Thomas Hewitt

Bubba Sawyer

Patrick Bateman

Stu Macher

Billy Loomis

(& poly!Ghostface)

OG Michael Myers

RZ Michael Myers (a favorite <3)

Peepaw Myers

Will Graham

Hannibal Lecter

Original Jason Vorhees

2009 Remake Jason Vorhees (the scarier one in my opinion)

I do imagines, scenarios, and full-fledged fanfiction. Message me if you have suggestions!

#thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #patrick bateman #stu macher #billy loomis #og michael myers #rz michael myers #michael myers #will graham #hannibal lecter #jason vorhees #leatherface #peepaw myers

[the-daily-slasher]

Scream VI officially announced || March 10, 2023

#scream #slasher community #slashers

[the-daily-slasher]

slashers + kissing them in panic before they kill you pt2 (including thomas hewitt, ghostface [billy loomis], pinhead)

pt1

Thomas Hewitt

Fear is too weak of a word to describe what is gripping your heart and mind. There's a fucking chainsaw ripping through your friends and you can't do anything; your hands are encased in rope, done by the creepy sheriff you'd felt sorry for at first. You hear the buzz of the chainsaw going again, and again, and again, and even when it's shut off you swear it's still going, in your head, forever haunting you, screaming out to taste your blood next.

You can't tell if you're the lucky one, or if your dead friends are, but you seek salvation anyways. As the man wielding the weapon nears you, you don't scream out, you don't struggle. You look into his eyes and try to find any hint of humanity that may be left.

To your surprise, he looks upset. Like he doesn't want to harm you; his mask has slipped, both physically and emotionally. You reach out a hand, hesitant at first, that becomes steadily more confident as he doesn't withdraw from your touch. You fix his mask into place and, encouraged by what you interpret as happy noises, lean forward.

A strange sensation hits you as you kiss him. Like whole new world has just been opened up to you, like you've stepped into a parallel universe where you kiss the people that are trying to kill you. You don't have much time to think about it, though, as he gently takes your hand and leads you inside the house. You're initially recalcitrant, as is to be expected, you don't want to be dragged back and eaten, but something in your mind tells you that you're safe now.

The family appears to understand the situation instantly. The woman, you think she introduced herself as Luda Mae, smiles brightly at you and speaks in a thick southern accent.

"Looks like Tommy likes you. Why don't you stay for dinner, honey?"

Ghostface (Billy Loomis)

It actually wasn't supposed to be you, tonight.

Billy sometimes ponders the thought of calling you, his hands tracing the scrap of paper with your number and his heart racing.

But never to kill you.

Billy's had a crush on you ever since you gave him that sweet smile in a Bio class years ago, and it's only grown as he matured. Stu pokes fun at him relentlessly - for his reputation of being a player, he sure is hesitant to go after the person he actually likes. Billy knows it's because it would feel real with you, and he isn't sure how far he would go off the deep end if you rejected him, if it was definite. No, he can't have that, so he'll approach you in his more confident persona.

You don't reject his call. You should, there's a killer on the loose and you're answering when a stranger calls? In a friend's house, he supposes, the environment may give you a false sense of security. Safety in numbers, right?

No one is safe from the Woodsboro killer, though, except the one he admires.

Your friend has a quick death after a brief meeting with Billy's knife, and then the killer comes for you. All exits were blocked, no windows, no doors, no weapons. Of course, he never intended to kill you, only to scare you a little, but you don't know that.

So as the robed figure looms over you, you take a leap of faith and press a kiss to the tip of their bloodstained boots. You look up, and Billy swears he's never seen anything more attractive in his life. He pulls you up, making sure you'll stay quiet with a knife to your throat, and covers your eyes.

He takes off his mask, and gives you a lingering kiss, cupping your face with pure tenderness. Billy is almost sad that you can't see the love in his eyes, with yours still covered, but it gives him a warm feeling as he wonders if you'll figure out who he is from this kiss alone.

He leaves you with red lips and a burning curiosity as to why you were spared.

Pinhead

You didn't open the box. Not intentionally, you didn't realise what you were doing. You certainly did not sign up for freaky BDSM demons coming to tear your soul apart, especially their leader, adorned in pins that segment his white flesh.

And, yeah, he's hot, but you do not plan to end up like that. You quite like your skin minus chains and pins. But that won't stop them; they'll kill you anyways, and you can't figure out how to send them back, how to get out of this hell dimension.

You don't hit on a genius idea, some stroke of luck or divine intervention is never bestowed upon you. It's complete and utter desperation that ends up granting you salvation.

In despair, accepting your inevitable death, you wish to go out with honour. You drop to your knees, and after lightly grasping his wrist, kiss the lead Cenobite's hand. Not in greeting, but in farewell.

"Well, my dear, you are interesting. I believe I'll keep you. Go on, run along home, before I change my mind."

His parting words leave your heart beating faster with the knowledge that he'll be back, and you think you'll enjoy it.

[the-daily-slasher]

Raader who comes across a bloodied Thomas Hewitt and her first reaction is to ask if he is okay not being aware that it is someone else's blood that's on him?

Reader who comes across a bloodied Thomas Hewitt and her first reaction.

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

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You and a couple of friends went on a small road trip to Travis County, Texas. Why? Because you have it live your life to the fullest! You were taking pictures along the way for maybe a scrapbook. After what seemed like hours, we drove along Texas roads so long and flat that we decided to stop and take a break. Seeing the road entirely and completely quiet, the golden land, and the eternal blue sky that seems to dissolve the land itself. Oh, the heat was hot. You clenched your bag over your shoulder and decided this was a perfect opportunity to go and take pictures of stuff. She walked through the tall grass of the desert, her eyes taking in the sights and sounds around her. She took a few snaps of different things, the tree, the grass. Y/n took a breath in, then exhaled with a smile as she began to walk again. She had no destination in mind, no plan for the day. To live her life and have fun. Y/n noticed a shed it looked abandoned. She came to a stop. You were looking around before going.

Poking her head into the door opening, she gasped at what she had seen a guy with a very bulky and big-boned body, believed to stand at 6’5—throughout the prequel, wearing a button-up striped green and red shirt along with a gold and black striped tie. He wears what looks to be dirty brown trousers under large bulky black boots. Over everything is a bloodied beige apron. “Um, excuse me, are you okay?” Y/n called out. The Guy quickly turned around, startled. Y/n could get a good look at him. His skin is light with a tint of pink and black shoulder-length matted hair. He also wore a mask.

There was an awkward silence. “A-are you hurt? You covered head to toe!” She said as she stepped completely out. He just stared at her. “I’m not a doctor, but I can help you if you're hurt,” you said; he shook his head. “You’re fine then?” She asked. He nodded. “Then why are you covered in blood?” She wondered; the guy froze and then did a chopping method with his hand. “You were cutting something?” She said, confused; he nodded. “Like meat?” She asked. He paused, then nodded. “Are you a butcher? My uncle was a butcher before he quit,” you said; he just stared. “Um, my name is Y/n. What’s yours?” She asked. He just stood. “You can’t talk?” She wondered; he nodded. “Oh, you’re mute,” she said; he nodded again. “I have paper and a pencil,” you said, letting the camera go that was around your neck. Digging into your bag, you found paper but a pen. You pulled it out. “Don't have a pencil, but I do have a pen,” you said as you held it out. He walked over to you almost and gently took the paper and used his other free hand to lean on to write before handing the paper to you. “Thomas?” You read before looking up; he nodded. “Well, Thomas, it was nice meeting you,” you said, smiling at him. He slowly nodded as he thought about two things how cute you were and how he was going to keep you ❦︎

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Hope you like it ♡♡♡

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@lilitharts @rottent33th @kalid-raven @iloveslasher @bluecoolr @slaasherslut @the-pinstriped-hood

#slasher fanfiction #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #slasher x reader