#slasher and child!reader

[kisskiss-slashslash]

I need the slashers meeting a kid who's parents abandoned them and they become their parental figure. (Maybe ages 5-10)

Much love xxxx

Aw that's cute. I left out Freddy this time because we all know what he does to little children.

Slashers finding an abandoned child and taking them in

Jason Voorhees

He finds you stumbling through the forest all on your own, clutching a teddy bear to your chest, crying and calling out for your mother.

At your age, you have not quite heard of the Crystal Lake killer. You only know that the grown ups kept saying how dangerous this lake is and to never to there. And now your family drove you here, made you get out of the car and just... sped off.

At your age, you are positively *tiny* to Jason. He kneels down in front of you and, remembering what his mother used to to, pulls an old, tattered hankerchief out of his pocket to wipe down your tear- and snot covered face.

"D... do you know where my mommy went, mister?", you ask miserably, but even your little mind knew that she wouldn't be coming back.

Jason can understand your misery all too well. At the same time, he is furious that your family would do this. So it's decided. The feared Crystal Lake killer has a tiny apprentice now.

The Sinclair Brothers

Lester finds you walking along the road towards Ambrose, a stuffed animal in one hand and an almost empty waterbottle in the other. You look terrible, like you have been walking around for days without food. Your clothes are dirty and torn and your hands have bloody scratches on them.

He quickly gets out of his truck and asks where you came from.

You sniffle and tell him that your family promised to take you camping, and they told you to walk ahead and find a good spot, and they would catch up to you. But they never did.

There is of course the concern that your parents may have ended up being victims of his brothers. But there hadn't been any new victims in the past few days.

So he takes you to Ambrose, sure that his brothers wouldn't put their hands on a small child. And they don't.

Bo immediately finds himself reminded of his childhood, being the one left behind, and takes a liking to you. They give you some of their old childhood clothes, and some food. Vincent takes you to the wax museum, to show you all of the cool things he and his mother made. He might even teach you how to paint and do wax figures yourself. And just like that, the Sinclair family gained another member.

Brahms Heelshire

It is a cold and stormy day, when Brahms hears a soft knock at the front door. And there you are, in completely wrong clothes for the weather, wet down to your skin and crying.

He takes you in, thinking that hey, your parents are probably gonna come looking for you soon, right?

Except they never do.

Brahms gives you his childhood clothes, so you don't catch a cold, and tells you about his routine and that he actually always wondered what it would be like to have a little sibling.

The Sawyers

While the Sawyers are less likely to take in a random child than the Hewitts, it is not impossible. Nubbins finds you wandering along the Texas roads in the blistering heat, your little head completely red and your hair sticking to your skin with sweat.

He takes you to Drayton's gas station, and they have a kind of wordless conversation. Nubbins points at you with a grin, while you eye the meat being grilled in the small room, and Drayton eyes your small, malnourished frame, and shakes his head. Then gives you another, thoughtful look.

"You hungry, lil one?", he asks.

"Yes, mister", you reply.

Drayton generously takes a piece of rib and puts it on a paper plate for you. And once you scarfed down the meat, he grins at you.

"And what if I tell you that that was human meat?"

Your young mind doesn't quite understand what he just said, or just assumes he is joking. "Uh... okay? It was yummy though."

"It really is, isn't it. Look, kid, if ya don't know where to go, ya can go with us."

Bubba is absolutely thrilled when Drayton and Nubbins come home with you. He immediately introduces you to his chickens, and wants to make you your very own leather mask. Oh you are gonna have so much fun together! Bubba always wanted to have a younger sibling.

[imauthicktic]

Slashers incorrect quotes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N: *hands Ghostface a heart shaped box* will you be mine?

Ghostface, takes box and opens it to find a knife inside: I aint complainin', sweet cheeks, but I thought this was a proposal

Y/N: actually, this is a blood oath

Ghostface: understood, go ahead

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baby Firefly: *crying while Y/N comforts them*

Baby Firefly: *back to normal* sorry I was vulnerable with you. Do you still think I'm hot?

Y/N:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N, Chucky, and Tiffany Valentine playing two truths and one lie

Tiffany: *talking to Chucky* You're tackey and cheap. Plus, I hate you.

Chucky: Ha! nice try! all of those are a lie!

Chucky whispering to Y/N: she was lying, right?

Y/N:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N: why are you following me?

Billy: because we're dating now

Y/N: okay... what about Stu?

Billy: we're a package deal

Stu: buy one idiot, get one free

Y/N: *gasps* I love BOGOS!!!

[calmcoldevening]

Slashers x child!reader [PLATONIC]

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, brothers Sinclair, Mark Hoffman

Tw: mention of murdering, violence, drinking

Thomas Hewitt

• You came to the Hewitts almost as a baby, you were the child of one of the victims. Surprisingly, you were left behind. Or rather, Luda stood up for it, she couldn't let them kill such a baby. Besides, she was always ready to take a new child under her wing again if he needed it.

• Thomas was a little confused, he couldn't figure out if he liked you or not. In general, he always wanted a family and children, but he knew that he would not have it because of his appearance and lifestyle. And so you came into his life.

• At first, he will be very hesitant about spending time with you in principle. He's just afraid of breaking you with your fragile baby bones. Besides, Thomas is not sure how to react to your frequent screams and tantrums, it pisses him off a little.

• Over time, he will really get used to you. A man will hold you in his arms most of the time if he is not busy working in the basement. Thomas will hold you tightly to his chest, clutching the diapers you were wrapped in, and looking down at you with warmth and love.

• Even if you screamed a lot when you saw Thomas's face, you always calmed down. It warmed his soul very much.

• The only problem was the food, because you were obviously very small and had to be breastfeed. Fortunately, there was enough dry mix in that victim's bag for the first time. Then Hoyt had to drive around the city.

• Thomas was very protective of you, always watching over you and taking care of you. You literally didn't get off his hands, constantly clinging to his clothes and long hair. He didn't mind. A man often kissed you on the forehead, gently stroking your tiny cheeks with his big hand. He loved hugging you so much and he was glad that you liked it too. Thomas's hands were carefully dressing you and washing your fragile little body. He never hurt you, not in any way.

• Thomas made a baby cot for you, which was in his room. Although you often liked to sleep with him. At such moments, you would unsteadily stand on your baby legs and stretch out your arms in his direction. The man's heart sank. He gently took you out of the cradle and put you next to him, hugging you protectively. You cooed and smiled as you fell asleep in comfort.

• Thomas was very happy about your first steps. It was difficult and slow, but he patiently sat on the floor two meters away from you and waited, arms outstretched in an embrace for you. When you finally found some kind of balance, you walked slowly towards him, giggling happily. You hugged him tightly. The man almost cried, watching the formation of his baby.

• He was looking forward to your first words, hoping that you would actually talk, unlike him. At first it was a strange babble of children. Thomas was almost sure that you would call Luda mom, even though the thought of it hurt him. When you said the awkward 'Dada', he started crying. Thomas hugged you tightly to him, kissing your baby face and body. God, you were so sweet, so precious. He felt such a pleasant warmth in his chest when you called him daddy, your daddy. Thomas thought he would die of happiness on the spot. Now you were his little ray of light, his child.

Brothers Sinclair

• You were the victim's child. Lester found you in the backseat of the car. He awkwardly picked you up and pulled you out of the car. He was the youngest brother in the family, so he understood absolutely nothing about children, he understood at most that what needed to be taken care of, for example, like a dog.

• Lester brought you to the Sinclair house. Vincent was in the workshop, and Bo was sitting on the couch, with his feet on a small table in front of the sofa, and enjoying drinking beer. The appearance of Lester, and even with a child, greatly strained him. Really, what should he do with such a baby? You didn't look more than five months old. Considering his childhood, Bo hated children, although he could take some care, after all, he participated in Lester's upbringing, one way or another. And it was still quite a big shock for him. There wasn't a single woman in town who could tell them what to do with you, the men were confused. When you woke up, you started screaming and crying. You were scared that your mom wasn't there. Rude men terrified you even more. I wanted to hide somewhere, but you couldn't do anything.

• The situation only improved when Vincent arrived. He was the most gentle and understanding of all the brothers. Vincent grabbed you out of Bo's rough hands with a little alarm, hugging you to him and stroking your head. Bo just rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen. You snuggled up to Vincent, feeling safe at last. You weren't crying anymore, but you were whimpering softly against his chest. You were scared and hungry. You clutched a man's clothes in your little fists, wanting to be comforted and cared for.

• Vincent, like the others, didn't know much about children. But unlike his brothers, Vincent was naturally quite sensitive and kind, he could not leave the child to these jerks. The man pressed you against his warm sweater, giving you peace of mind. He gently stroked your little body, checking for wounds or damage. Your diaper was full. Not the most pleasant part. Maybe you were really too scared. Vincent asked Lester to go back to that car and bring everything there that could be useful for the child. There was a whole bag of toys and baby food, as well as enough diapers and some clothes.

• Vincent immediately bathed you and gently changed your diaper and clothes. Then he fed you from a bottle. It was a little awkward, but he liked to see that you finally felt calmer. You were lying in his arms, making baby noises and greedily swallowing milk. Your eyes were red and swollen from crying. The man hugged you protectively, stroking your little tummy.

• In total, Vincent took care of you. He fed you, dressed you, and bathed you. Lester used to play with you a lot. Bo didn't pay much attention to you, he just went to the city to buy children's things.

• As you grew up, you started spending more time in Vincent's basement. You saw him without a mask and so gently grabbed his scarred cheeks with your soft baby hands, it made him cry. He now had a small cot in his workshop with lots of pillows and blankets. This is where you played while he was working. A man made you wax toys that you really liked. He even taught you how to sculpt wax yourself. Now you had your own little collection of wax ducks. You called Vincent Dad. When you did it the first time, he cried, hugging you tightly to him. Although Bo is sometimes very jealous of your brother, because Bo is just an uncle to you.

• You've become very friendly with their dog, Jesse. Jesse always protects you from the next visitors to the city.

• They tried to pick you up a couple of times. Once it was a married couple. The woman held you tightly in her arms, saying that these people in the city are monsters, and that she will become your mother and take care of you. You threw a tantrum asking Dad to come over. The couple almost ran out of town until Bo shot them in the back of the head. Vincent pulled you out of the dead woman's tight grip and held you close, stroking your hair. You cried and squeezed his neck, asking Dad not to leave you anymore.

• In general, you are a child who grew up in cruelty, but the Sinclairs themselves never raised a hand against you. You were cared for and loved. Bo especially loved giving you a lot of gifts. So you've grown up to be a mentally healthy child with them.

Mark Hoffman

• You turned out to be the child of his dead sister. At first, it even hurt a man to look at you because you looked so damn much like your mother. But he understood the responsibility. Mark realized that you are the only thing he has left of his sister. Besides, you didn't have any relatives anymore, and the man didn't want to take you to the orphanage. So he took custody of you.

• It was difficult. Mark was already tired with his job, so taking care of the child only added to his stress. But he tried. For you. For his sister's sake.

• When you were still young enough, a man often left you alone at home, even though he understood that it was unsafe. At that moment, his depression reached its peak, and he simply did not see any other way out. He started drinking. The man spent almost every evening at the bar, getting drunk to unconsciousness. It was after midnight when he returned home. Mark came into the apartment, heading to his bedroom, and your face greeted him. Your chubby baby cheeks were red and wet with tears, but as soon as you saw Mark, a slight smile blossomed on your face. You were already standing freely in your cradle, so when the man entered the room, you desperately stretched out your arms to him, muttering an inarticulate 'dada'. It broke a man's heart. In an instant, the intoxication was gone, and his whole being was filled with a vile sense of guilt. You were afraid to be alone, afraid of being abandoned again, and he was so brazenly leaving you alone in an empty dark apartment. But Mark couldn't help himself, he was in pain too. And so it is almost every day.

• When you went to kindergarten, he often picked you up later than everyone else. Fortunately, your teacher was a good woman and spent time with you personally, playing together. You were a smart and funny kid, but you still had trouble speaking, you didn't speak. Perhaps the fact that your 'dad' never responded to your attempts to talk to him because of your abilities influenced you.

• One day Mark got off work a little early, hoping to pick you up. He was standing in the hallway in front of your kindergarten room, his hand on the door handle. He saw you laughing while playing with the tutor in the playroom. You threw your arms around her neck and joyfully shouted "Mommy!". It broke Mark's heart. He was such a bad father, such a bad guardian. You drove home in silence this evening. Already at home, you didn't understand why Mark was so sad. You tried to hug him or ask for his hands, but the man just looked away. When he put you to bed, he knelt in front of your bed. The man took your little palms in his hands, kissing them gently. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"She's not your mommy... I know I made a mistake, but she's not your mom. Please.. don't do that anymore. I'll get better. I'm really going to get better. I treated you badly, I understand, but.. But I can't help myself. I miss her too, your mom.. the real mom..."

• You didn't quite understand what he was saying, but you leaned closer and put your arms around his neck. Mark hugged you convulsively, pulling you tightly to him and burying his nose in your hair.

• It got a lot better after that. Mark tried to drink less and spend more time with you. He took you to the park, amusement park, cinema and cafe. Now he knew the names of the characters in your favorite cartoons and bought you toys with them. The man bought you a lot of sweets and just treated you gently.

• "I want a balloon... Daddy!" Mark looked down at you and a pleased smile spread across his face when you first called him that. His chest was filled with warmth. He found a reason to keep living.

[semiweirdshipper]

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.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

heyya!!!... Beautiful💐.

I see requests are currently open, so if you don't mind... can I request a sexy wife s/o who loves to cook and will always make slasher food? And prepare all their needs (you know like a good wife in general🙃),My twin sisters really like their slasher Especially for Bo, Lester, Vincent, Thomas hewitt,Charles Lee Ray and Michael Myers...

Oh, I also think it would be great if they had obedient children with the wife s/o. They know how their father is and they choose not to worry too much about it. Please....I'm sorry if I requested when your requests were closed, but, I've been looking for a blog for a long time whose requests are still open and finally I found your blog 😭.

My twin sister is sick and I want her to be able to read the story you made from my request 🙏.

Love you dear

Thank you so much for the request sweet anon! <3 I hope me deciding to do Headcannons for each story was ok to anon. Sorry this took so long, I worked on it in chunks over the course of a few different days.

Also I hope you sister feels better soon Anon <3 <3

Slashers with a good little wife and good little children: The Sinclairs. Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt and Charles Lee Ray.

Also not my gifs, not of the gifs I use are ever mine and full credit goes to the original creators <3

Notes: Minors DNI, Written with AFAB in mind as per request, suggestive themes. Story under the cut. Request centers around "traditional" wife roles. Talks of pregnancy and children.

<3 : Bo loves the idea of having a good little wife and good little children to boot. He just never thought living in Ambrose and as a man with his hobbies he would get to experience that, until he met you.

<3: You instantly took over cleaning and cooking, even some of the spots in Ambrose no one even went into anymore. You had no idea how the boys had managed to survive so long with living like they were raised in a barn.

<3: Bo also liked how you liked to steer clear of anything having to do with his business and what went on at the gas station.

"it ain't your place" He murmured once into your hair when you asked him about it when the relationship was still relatively new. That was the first and only time he ever had to tell you that.

<3: Bo was thrilled by your want to stay out of his and mind your own that it was surprising when you ultimately fell pregnant after only about a year being in Ambrose. As if he'd let you leave.

<3: Bo let you take care of all the child rearing duties, with him being gone usually all day it was just easier plus the last thing he wants to come home too is crying children after a long day.

<3 As the children grew you had to teach them about what their father and uncles and explain why it would be inappropriate to ask anyone about it. All they needed to know was that they were safe and their daddy loves them.

<3 The sight of you being rounded with HIS baby also does things to Bo, So don't be surprised if he makes it a goal to keep you pregnant as often as possible.

<3 Bo would be a in and out father I think though, not that he means to be he does love the children. His relationship with his own father affects how active he is a lot of the time and since that's the only father figure he has to go off of he doesn't wanna turn out like him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Papa!' The children yelled as they ran through the door of the gas station to their father. You had a free instance of free time so you thought you'd bring them down to bring Bo some lunch.

"There's my babies" Bo said opening his arms to catch all 3 of them up in them. He turned to you poised and ready for the kiss you planted on his lips as you set the basket of food down on the counter.

"We made you lunch papa!" Your youngest girl said as he placed her back on the floor. Bo smiled at her.

"You did now didya?" All three children nodded as you opened the basket and began to explain to Bo what you made him. It wasn't long before your family bubble was interrupted by a car pulling up outside.

Bo's gaze hardened as he turned to look outside the station windows he then turned to you and the kids before barking an order.

"You four need to go on and get back to the house now" He said, The children having been through this before nodded before falling in line behind you to head back home.

"I'll come get ya'll when I'm done" Bo said planting a last kiss to your lips before you waddled out of the gas station, giant pregnant belly and all three little ducklings in tow.

<3 Soft mushy Vincent is soft and mushy.

<3 You are his doting little wife and he is your doting husband. His heart swells every time he sees you coming down into the basement with a plate of food and a drink.

<3 At first he was a bit nervous about you growing board of Ambrose since he wouldn't let you be involved but when he saw you begin to clean literally anything and everything he figured you were alright.

<3 Vincent loves your cooking and it actually helps rouse him out of the basement to come and sit at the table with you and his brothers.

<3 When you fell pregnant the first time, He was stunned. Like truly stunned. He never thought fatherhood more or less being a husband was in the cards for him ever.

<3 To know have both he couldn't believe it. A cute little house wife and a baby he hoped would look just like you.

<3 If the baby isn't twins expect to start trying for a sibling right away. Vincent like his brothers adores the sight of you pregnant with his baby. It awakens a primal instinct inside of him to be the provider and keep you safe at all costs.

<3 Vincent would be afraid that the baby would be afraid of his face or his mask, no matter how many times you assured him other wise he couldn't help but worry.

<3 If the children grow up to question their fathers face or what he does in Ambrose, you and Vincent will tell them the loose truth obviously omitting a lot of detail. At least until their old enough.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Vincent, your her daddy. She'd never be afraid of you" You told him softly, reaching out in an attempt to hand him your daughter.

Ever since she was born Vincent refused to hold her as he didn't wanna scare her off with his mask or his face.

He looked into your eyes as he went to shake his head, before he could though you had shoved your baby into his arms and positioned his hands in the proper places to hold her.

Vincent jumped at your sudden action but was never the less quick to cradle his daughter. He looked down at her once she was settled and when his eyes met hers that matched your perfectly he felt his breath leave his body.

Vincent had never experienced a feeling like this in his entire life and doubted he would ever feel it again. He was head over heels in love with this little human the two of you had made together and from that day he vowed that anyone who tried to come in-between him and his family would have him to answer too.

<3 Lester is used to cooking and cleaning his own space so it takes him awhile to get used to you doing it for him.

<3 He appreciates it greatly but he doesn't fully understand why you would want to clean up behind him like you do though. Like he picks up roadkill all day who would want to smell that?

<3 He doesn't complain about you cooking though, He thinks your food is amazing and it's great to come home to a warm cooked meal every night.

<3 You do so much for him so don't be surprised if Lester comes home every so often with little gifts he's collected for you. Some of them may or may not come from victims but as Lester's good little wifey you never question it, you just press your lips to his and thank him for the thoughtful gift.

<3 When you fall pregnant, again like his brothers, Lester is thrilled. He can't be in the same room as you without running his hands up and down your swollen belly while trying to feel the baby kick.

<3 Lester wants a football team of children, so be prepared to make many renovations to the cabin the two of you share to accommodate all the children.

<3 Lester loves bringing his sons out on the road with him when their old enough and with your permission of course. He'd never let them participate in anything Bo or Vincent do but helping him with roadkill is just fine by him.

<3 If any of the kids ever questions what their uncles do in Ambrose and why Lester doesn't usually want them around it, He'll tell them that it's because of Vincent's delicate projects and that answer is enough for the kids.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Nah sweetpea, you know why you can't go to Ambrose" Lester softly told your son after the fifth time he had asked to go see his uncles. Your son sighed and pouted slightly before speaking.

"I know uncle Vincent's art is easy to break but I promise I won't ruin anything"

"My love, I've told you it's rude to question your father" You piped up from your chair in the living room, running a hand over your slightly swollen belly. "Why don't you go join your brothers outside for a bit before dinner, and stay where we can see you" He gave you a sad look but nodded and went through the front door outside.

"I know the boys love Vinny and Bo, but I just want em to be safe" Lester told you sitting on the arm of your chair and putting a hand over yours sitting on your belly.

"I know Les, but when their older they'll understand why we have rules" You shot him a smile and he gratefully returned it. He was so lucky to get someone so understanding of the "Family Business"

<3 Thomas was raised to be a family man. Luda Mae had always told him growing up that one day he would need to find a wife to continue the Hewitt family with.

<3 Enter you, ending up at the Hewitt farm like so many others, but not meeting the same fate as them.

<3 Thomas would've easily put babies before marriage but Luda Mae insisted that you two do it the traditional way and get married first.

<3 You were quick to win her over with your affinity to help out with cooking and other house chores. Especially when it came to taking care of her darling boy Thomas. She was thrilled he had found someone who loved him so much.

<3 In the Hewitt house hold with Monty and Charlie both breathing down your neck, it's easy to be reminded to leave the mans work to Thomas and just focus on helping Luda with whatever she needs.

<3 When you fall pregnant with the first baby, the whole house hold is thrilled.

<3 Luda, Charlie and Monty all never thought they would see the day that Thomas would continue the Hewitt family tree so it was a very big deal when you fell pregnant with Luda's first grandchild.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Now darlin' you know your not supposed to be doing anything in your state" Luda reprimanded as she walked into the kitchen to see you doing dishes.

"I know mama but laying in bed all day everyday is driving me nuts" You told her drying off a plate you were washing. Luda joined you at the sink grabbing a cup to wash it before handing it to you to dry.

"When I was pregnant with Charlie I almost got driven up a wall myself. Just don't let Tommy see, You'll never hear the end of it" She said giving you a small smile before heading back to the living room.

You stood at the sink and continued to wash until you heard familiar footsteps heading up the basement stairs, you tried to pretend like you weren't washing dishes but it was too late, Tommy was on you in an instant.

"Tommy hun it's ok!" You pleaded as he took the dishes out of your hands and herded you towards a chair. You couldn't help yourself but the laugh of how your giant husband could be turned so soft and attentive with you.

You grabbed Tommy's hands before he made you sit down and placed them onto your rounded belly. His eyes met yours instantly and your foreheads pressed together.

"Tommy we're fine, I promise honey." Tommy looked at you incredulously before rolling his eyes and huffing at you, you laughed. If there was one thing in this world Tommy couldn't say no too it was you.

<3 Now Charles I could see being a bit different. Sure he adores having someone cleaning and cooking since he's out doing what a serial killer does most of the time but when it comes to kids he's a bit hesitant.

<3 He loves that you love to cook for him. It's nice having warm meals to come home too for once, Brownie points if their his favorite foods.

<3 Doesn't so much like when you get on him about tracking blood through the house or getting one too many stains on his clothes.

<3 If you really want a baby start telling him how lonely you are when he leaves for long periods of time to go kill people. He'll give you want you want as long as the baby stays out of his way.

<3 He'll be a good dad though don't get me wrong and he'll love the kid or kids just as much as you but he's a busy guy that's got shit to do so he mainly sees them as your responsibility.

<3 Might get jealous of all your attention going to the baby though, he understands it has too but that doesn't mean he has to be happy about it all the time.

<3 Your never going to be the picture perfect family but for your Charles will try his best to give you and the kids everything you'd ever need.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Charles! what have I told you about tracking blood in the house!" Your voice echoed through the house. You heard a muffled laugh as he rounded the hallway with your 3 month old in his arms.

"Babe I'm sorry, you know I never mean too sometimes it just happens" He said adjusting your bundle of joy in his arms.

"Whaddya think kid should mommy forgive me just this once?" He asked your child you babbled in response.

"You said just this once the last three times chuck" You deadpanned before breaking a smile when he did.

"Just a hazard of the job toots" He laughed, You joined him before your eyes were met with the deep red splotches on the blazer he was wearing.

His eyes followed yours before his froze and turned to walk away with the baby in tow as you yelled out behind him.

"Charles! The blood!"

<3 The only inkling of what a normal family functions like that Michael has ever gotten was from his childhood, and to be honest I think his memories of that are very few and far between.

<3 You want to do what for him? Cook and clean ? why on earth would you want to do that for? Michael is confused.

<3 Though preparing to go out and finding a nice fresh out of the dryer jumpsuit all nice and warm and clean for him is quite nice. Michael thinks this is something he could get used to.

<3 On those late nights where he comes back late and finds plates of dinner wrapped in tinfoil ready for him to either heat up or eat just like that is also something he could get used too. It tastes way better then what he usually eats (Totally not dog, totally not)

<3 When kids get brought up though, it's a different story. I could honestly see him not really being all for it at least not at first.

<3 He's really like Charles but more so into the you can have kids as long as they stay far out of his way.

<3 His feelings towards them also aren't the most parental either. He loves them ? At least, Michael feels an emotion he could probably equate to love about them.

<3 But yeah I think for Michael it's best you just keep the kids clear of him. It's not easy when your father is the shape of Haddonfield.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Welcome home Mike!, your dinner is wrapped up on the counter love" You greeted him as he came home after a night of terrorizing the town. Placing a kiss to the cheek of his mask.

Michael nodded wordlessly, as always, and turned to go into the kitchen. Tonight you had made his favorite, or at least what you only thought was one of his favorites by the way he every so slightly changed reactions every time you made it.

You gave him a second before following him into the kitchen and sitting next to him at the island. You watched as he lifted his mask up for each bite of food before lowering it to chew.

You made the mistake of questioning him once as to why he didn't just take the mask off. It was early on in the relationship and his hand instinctively went to his knife before you even finished asking. That was how you learned it's better to just not ask Michael questions at least not about the mask.

The two of you sat in silence, a routine you repeated pretty much every night unless you were already asleep when he got home. You would spend all day cleaning and making sure everything was ship shape for him then you would greet your monster of a man when he came through your front door.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Michael's plate crashed into the sink and broke into pieces. Michael still didn't understand how to not hold the plate too high and just to sit it in the sink.

Looks like something you'll still have to work on. No one said the shape of Haddonfield was smart when it came to chores anyway.

[livindeadgirlgrav]

Are they ass, tits or thigh’s for Vincent Sinclair and Charles lee ray (seperetly) with fem reader

It can be as filthy as you want

Ooooooooo okay! This is definitely going to be fun! Alsoooo this is my first time writing for Charles lee ray!! I'll try not to disappoint

Warning: NSFW! violence, bad language, kidnapped, Stockholm syndrome, just evil slasher men lol, mature themes/content. 18+, filthyyyyy👀👀 nastttyyyyyy

Vincent Sinclair

Vinny is an everything man. He loves you for you buuuuuut if he did have to pick a favorite its probably a tie between your thighs and breast.

Vincent enjoys holding your thigh when he sits beside you. He will consistently grip your thighs and rub his thumb across your smooth skin. Now when you two are alone Vincent loves to kiss up and down your thighs, occasionally nipping at your skin.

When it comes to your breast Vincent loves to grope them. He loves how soft and squishy they are under his rough hands.

He will definitely suck your breast hard, leaving hickeys all over your chest. He enjoys playing with your nipples and seeing how you gasp when he tugs on your nipples with his teeth.

Secretly this man is very kinky. He very much enjoys sitting on top of you, ripping your T-shirt off to reveal your soft chest. He'll pin your arms above you head but if you move he is quick to tie them down with a rag. Once your hands are out of the way he'll grab one of the many candles within his room and drip the hot wax onto your delicate breast, down your stomach, and on your inner thigh.

Vincent loves to fuck your breast, he enjoys the softness and loves to look down at you, watching you please him in such a way turns him on even more.

When you two are having sex, Vincent loves to have your legs on his shoulders. He loves gripping onto your thighs and having the options to bite and kiss them while he thrust into you.

Vincent also loves to use your thighs to push himself deeper into you. And trust he loves pushing your legs above your head thrusting deeper into you, watching your face scrunch up in pleasure.

Vincent tends to forget how tight he holds onto your thighs and breast so at the end of the night you are typically left with a couple finger prints and bruises.

Vincent loves it when you go bra less, its easier for him to run his hands up your shirt and tug at your breast but it's definitely hard to keep his attention for all of it goes to your freed breast.

His favorite position is cowgirl; He loves watching your breast bounce up and down while he rubs your thighs, occasionally gripping them hard enough to leave marks. He also loves to warm his cock within you as he sucks your breast but trust he wont leave the other one unattended, his hand will quickly tug at your nipples and grope at your breast. Then he will switch after a few minutes now sucking on the one he was tugging at and now rubbing the one he was sucking.

It drives him crazy when you wear shorts or skirts and v-neck shirts or shirts that just showoff your breast.

Vincent also gives the best massages, he has no problem rubbing your legs and thighs. And hey he'll massage your breast too

Charles Lee Ray

Charles Lee Ray has to be an ass guy!

I'm pretty sure this man would take anything you give him but in booty we trust.

He constantly slaps and gropes your ass daily

If you are wearing a skirt or a dress he has no problem hiking the skirt up to grab your bare ass or just see it in your black panties.

Very much prefer you wear thongs he loves having easy access.

This man loves back shots! He enjoys gripping onto your waist and slapping your ass as he slams himself inside you.

One of his many favorite positions is reverse cowgirl, he loves watching your beautiful ass bounce up and down on his cock.

Charles loves anal, he loves how tight your ass is and enjoys the sweet moans and groans to make as he takes his time sliding into you.

Will eat you out any day of the week and trust he loves leaving bite marks on your ass and enjoys feeling you tremble underneath him as his licks up your valley. (you know exactly what I'm talking about)

Charles loves to punish you, mainly spanking you. He loves watching how your ass jiggles with each slap. He also loves seeing how red your ass can get, he thinks its pretty seeing his hand prints left behind on your soft skin.

Thank you for reading!!! I hope you guys enjoyed and I hope I didn't disappoint with Charles Lee Ray I really did enjoy writing for him! Thank you tons for the request! <3

[kitsudolly]

Slashers memes part 2

[soapyghostie]

Hi! It's the Chucky anon! Here's my request <3

Chucky has murdered reader, but now she is stuck following him around as a ghost. She isn't like... an unstoppable evil, she just messes with him since she has no other option. Something like...

Chucky, whispering: "Don't you fucking dare..."

Reader, looking at him dead in the eye: (shatters a vase alerting the potential victim)

She has a lot of fun teasing him even when he is not out for the kill, so they end up warming up to each other during the moments where she doesn't try to frustrate his schemes

Thank you again! <3

Sorry for when I had to reject your request because my inbox was closed at the time. Also, I’m sorry you had to wait so long for me to write your request Chucky Anon. I’ve been so busy with finals and finishing up the Track and Field season that I haven’t had time to write. 😫 However, I hope this was worth the wait. Hope you enjoy!

Charles ‘Chucky’ Lee Ray

It’s been several weeks since Chucky killed you. The police had already uncovered your body, ran tests, identified that it was a murder, sent you off to the morgue to get you cleaned up for your funeral, and buried in the ground. Now here you are in all your glory, haunting his ass for all eternity. At first your ghostly presence initially terrified him. You can’t blame him because wouldn’t every killer’s worst nightmare be getting haunted by their victims??? Anyways, however, as time goes on, he begrudgingly starts to enjoy your company, finding it less lonely than being on his own. 

When you discover that you have the power to manipulate objects, it’s all over for Chucky. You are constantly pulling pranks on him, like rearranging his possessions or making strange noises at night. Chucky would be like: “I’m pretty sure I left my knife right here… where the hell did it go???” While you are snickering, knowing damn well where you hid it (on top of the cabinet where his short midget ass can’t even reach it). 

You often play tricks on Chucky to prevent him from completing his kills. This sometimes even inadvertently saves his potential victims in the process. Such as when you accompanied him on one of his killing sprees and he caught you staring at a vase, knowing exactly what you were thinking. “Don’t you fucking dare…” Chucky whispered threateningly and you just stare him dead ass in the face, shattering the vase anyways. Let’s just say that his victim got away that day.  

Although you reluctantly accomplice Chucky and assist him in his schemes, you love to sabotage them for fun. However, You often feel guilty about the innocent lives Chucky takes and you struggle with your role in enabling his actions. Due to that, you sabotage his schemes whenever you can (you have fun at the same time doing it though).

Despite all the pranks and tricks, you and Chucky develop an odd bond through shared experiences and a dark sense of humor. He’ll often find himself venting his frustrations and insecurities to you while seeking your advice and your companionship in moments of loneliness.  

Despite the close bond you and Chucky created, you secretly long for peace and closure, hoping to find a way to move on from your ghostly existence. Due to that, there will always be tension between you two, as you never forgot that Chucky is ultimately responsible for your death.

[the-cannibal]

“Clicky papa!”

Predator/Yautja x (platonic) child! Reader

Summary: what happens when a small three year old child gets attached to a big killer alien?

Female reader - she/her and you is used

Yautja is male in this one - he is also unnamed so if you wanna imagine him as a specific Yautja or an oc feel free! :)

This is a platonic oneshot!

This is also very short, but I hope you like it anyway!

Warnings: Some violence and what not in the beginning, blood/gore

It was a simple job. One that he was going to get in and out quickly. The big alien let out a screech as he ripped open another human, blood splattering all across his armor and mask. He was surrounded by a field of pure gore as he continued his mission, a mission that we won't go in specifics as to what exactly it is. But to summarize it he had to kill people. A lot of people. Which wasn't out of the ordinary. Rapid foot steps came up behind him and before he knew it his precious mask was ripped off of his face and carelessly tossed to the side. The Yautja slowly looked down at the frightened human, who stood shaking as he realized the mistake he had made. "N-no please!" But before the poor human could make anymore pleas, the Yautja had sliced open its throat, watching as the body fell limp to the ground, twitching and pouring out blood. The strong alien quickly wiped down all his tools and was ready to leave the scene. That was until he felt someone tapping on his leg. "Boo!" The alien looked down to see a small human girl, around the same size as the young Yautja pups he sees running around his planet. The alien tilted his head in confusion, making a clicking noise with his mandibles as he picked up the girl to examine her. The child giggled and attempted to copy his noise, getting drool and spit down her chin, as she made grabby hands towards his dreadlocks. The Yautja couldn't keep the small smile from spreading across his face. He had to admit, they were quite adorable. But the smile quickly fell when he remembered what they were. A human... But they were so small! How could he harm such a thing? Looking down in his arms and seeing the child holding her fingers up to her face in an attempt to make her own mandibles, he knew he couldn't hurt her. And it wasn't like he could go find the humans that made said offspring. They were probably in the carnage that laid around them... "Clicky papa!" That made him freeze up. His eyes were wide in wonder and curiosity as he looked down at the giggling toddler in his arms. She really wasn't afraid of him, what's so ever. Which really surprised him. Every human he has ever come across scream in horror when they see him. They scream louder when his mask is off and they see his true face. But here he held a small human that called him papa.

"Clicky papa?" The child said confused. The big alien sighed, moving the child so they were resting their head on his shoulder. He made up his mind. She was now his pup, his child. He was going to take care of her, no matter what the other Yautja say. Climbing into his ship and getting ready to fly back home, he knew the risks he was taking. But one look down at the child in his arms, sound asleep with a gentle hand wrapped around one of his dreads, he knew he couldn't just leave them behind.

[dreamy-demons]

Where Did You Sleep Last Night?

Pairing: Charles Lee Ray x Female Reader

CW: rough sex, rough oral (male receiving), orgasm denial, cheating, degrading, lots of insults, bad dom etiquette, slut shaming, kinda sorta dubcon(??? Could be read that way), overall very toxic relationship lol

Summary: Reader ditches Charles on a night out and hooks up with a stranger. This is the aftermath.

Word count: ~2000

He's the first thing you see when you walk through the door.

It's 3am and he sits illuminated only by the table lamp, casting harsh shadows across his face. He stands and slinks toward you and you try to swallow the fear that shoots through you.

"Where the fuck did you go last night?"

Eyes down, you try to push past him. He pulls you back.

"Oh no you're not walking away from me again. You bailed on me, I think I deserve to know where you went."

“I had to get some air, okay? I got some food and stayed at a friend's house. Not that I owe you an explanation.”

Charles had been a prick at the bar last night. You were sick of him flirting with other women and thought it would be fun seeing the look on his face when you gave him a taste of his own medicine. seeing him now, you realise it was not the case.

“Awww you needed to get some air?” He scoffs, “Is that what they're calling fucking some random prick from a bar these days? If you're going to play smart with me you can fuck off and sleep on the streets. I can find another whore like you on any corner of the city.”

"Do you want me to beg, is that what you want? Oh, please, Chucky, how could I ever make it up to you." Anger momentarily cuts through your fear, and you sink down to your knees, hands up in mock prayer.

"You've got to be shitting me." He groans, rolling his eyes. "Get up, you're embarrassing yourself…"

His words trail off as he looks down at you, so fragile beneath him. When his eyes meet yours something stirs within them. A hand grasps your chin and his eyes bore into you. Your heart skips a beat.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do?" You place a hand on his thigh.

"Let's see… You be a good girl and get me off real good tonight, and then maybe I'll forgive you. Okay? Maybe. How's that sound?" You quickly nod, sliding your hand further up his thigh until your hand ghosts over his dick. You feel his body tense.

"Shit, you're eager." He laughs pulling you up from the ground and dragging you across to the couch. Leaning back, he shoves you to your knees between his legs.

You make quick work freeing him from his pants. Spitting on your hand, you give him a few languid strokes before taking him into your mouth.

"God, that pretty fucking mouth of yours." He groans, possessive fingers grasping your hair. You work at his cock, taking him in deep, exploring him with your tongue. Charles is holding your hair so tightly it hurts, and you have no choice but to keep eye contact with him to alleviate the pain. His eyes bore into you, frenzied.

"Did you suck his dick like this too, babe?"

You whimper around him, not answering his question. He pushes your head down to the hilt, nose to his pelvis.

"I asked you a fucking question."

You struggle to let out an "mmhmm" as you nod. He pulls you off, spit dripping down your chin, and leans in close.

"You dirty fucking whore." He tuts. "This is the only cock you'll ever need, ya hear me? Because you seem to have forgotten that."

You're still gasping for air, but he pulls you back onto him.

"By the end of tonight babe, I promise you, you will never forget again."

He uses you like a toy, rutting into your throat, and all you can do is try not to choke and keep your aching jaw slack. Your eyes water with every thrust, leaving streaks of mascara running down your face. A thumb comes up to swipe away your tears, and if you didn’t know him better you’d almost be mistaken in thinking this was a sweet gesture. His eyes darken and his movements become erratic.

"That's. Right. Bitch. Cry. For. Me." He grunts out between thrusts. It’s not long before he spills deep into your throat. Charles pulls your head off him, and you make sure to keep eye contact while you swallow every drop.

He brings you up into his lap. You snuggle into his chest and he pets your hair. You relax, knowing you've satisfied him. He's forgiven you. Everything is okay and… wait. Why is he petting your hair? He sucks at aftercare. Fat chance he'd ever be petting you like this after the fight you just had. You pull back and he's grinning down at you, eyes dark.

"Oh you- you really thought" he can't get through his sentence without laughing. "Come on, did ya really think I would let you off that easily? Cause you really fucked me over back there, doll."

"I'm sorry Chuck, really. I'll be a good girl from now on."

"You think you've learned your lesson already?"

You nod, with the best innocent face you can give him.

"Yeahhh, I'm just not convinced. You need to be punished. And you know what?"

A hand slides between you, fingertips brushing past your stomach causing goosebumps all over your body. Your breath hitches when he slips under your skirt.

"I think you want to be punished."

You blush, averting your gaze.

"Look at how wet you are! I just had you choking on my dick til you couldn't breathe and you're getting off on it. You really are a whore." Two fingers slide into your hole, and he wastes no time finding that spot inside of you that makes you mewl. His thumb makes languid circles on your swollen clit, while he slowly pumps his fingers into you.

"More Chucky, please." You moan.

"More? You want more?"

"Please. I need it." You plead. It's nowhere near enough stimulation to get you close and it's driving you crazy. Instead of speeding up, he stops his movements entirely.

"Sorry doll, I don't think you deserve more right now."

You grip his shirt, whimpering. Your hips grind on their own desperately wanting him to start moving again.

"Stop fucking squirming." He growls, and you will yourself to stop. "Tell me again. What do you want?"

"I want more, Chucky. I love the way you feel inside of me, I want to cum on your fingers. I need it."

His fingers start to resume their motions, back at the same teasing pace.

"Ya know, I think I'm liking taking my time here." He grins.

Against all your better judgement you try again to move your hips, and you're met with a look that sends ice shooting down your spine.

Before you have time to react his hands are around your throat. You try to squeak out an apology but his grip is too tight. Your heart is beating so hard it feels like it's going to burst out your chest. Your life is completely in his hands. 'He could really do it right now.' You think to yourself, 'It was only a matter of time. Why did I ever think I was any different than all the people he killed?'

You pull at his wrists trying to pry him off you, pleading with your eyes. But he's stronger than you. And he's enjoying this far too much

"I already told you once to stop fucking squirming. You better think real hard before you try doing that again."

Finally he lets you go and you collapse against him. The air burns your lungs as you suck in big gulps.

"What do we say?"

"Thank you. Thank you so much Chucky, it'll never happen again I promise." God, how much more pathetic could you get?

"That was so fucking hot, my dick's already hard again. How are we gonna fix this now?"

Bastard. Of course he got off on that.

"Fuck me, please, I need it. I want to make you feel good. I'll do anything."

He finds his way back to your pussy and pumps quickly, fingers curling into you.

"Let's get this cunt nice and wet." He says, as if you weren't already more wet than you'd ever been.

"And don't even think about cumming without my permission, got that?"

His thumb on your clit moves in exactly the right way, tight circles that send shocks through your entire body. You rest your head on his chest, unable to do anything but let the pleasure wash over you. Your walls flutter around him as he rubs against the right spots with each thrust.

"God, I'm so close! Please, please can I cum now?" You're sure you've dripped all over his lap by this point. You don't think you can hold back for much longer. You're right there you just need- NO!

That asshole! He stopped. Again. The strangled cry of frustration you let out sends him into a laughing fit.

"Sorry babe, want you cumming on my dick tonight. That's kinda the whole point of this lesson. Hands and knees. Now."

You scramble off his lap and get on all fours. Chucky flips up your skirt and smears the wetness from his fingers all over your ass.

You feel his head nudge at you, but instead of entering, he slides through your folds, causing frustrated curses to fall from your lips.

"You look so fucking gorgeous like this." He groans, "This is where you belong. Spread open, dripping, desperate for my cock."

He keeps dragging through your folds, enjoying the way you twitch when he grazes your clit. Then, without warning, he sheaths himself into you in one smooth stroke. Both of you let out a groan as he holds himself deep within you, the feeling of being so full leaving you momentarily breathless. When he starts thrusting his movements are rough, hips slamming against your ass.

"You wouldn't even know what to do without me, you know that, doll? Nobody else fucks you the way I do.”

A stroke hits you in a way that makes you yelp. He takes notice, adjusting his angle so that every thrust nudges the bundle of nerves inside you.

“Nobody else is going to satisfy this needy pussy, and you'll come crawling back here begging for me."

You never understand why it turned you on to hear him talk like this, but he was right. You loved him having power over you. Your little hookup earlier that night had completely paled in comparison to what Charles was doing to you now. You hadn't even come close to cumming with that guy.

Even without him touching your clit, you can already feel your climax approaching. You feel his weight press down on you as he leans to whisper in your ear.

“Fuck, baby. I want to fill up this sweet cunt.”

“Can I cum now?” You whine, tears pricking at your eyes. Please Chucky, I'm so close. I'm yours, baby, please. Let me cum with you.”

Charles lets out a pleased groan and his fingers find their way back to your clit. It only takes a few swipes for you to cum with a strangled cry, arms giving out beneath you. The spasms of your soft walls are enough to send Charles over the edge and you feel the warmth of his seed spread within you.

“That's it Doll, take it all. Good slut.” He rides out his orgasm and then pulls out, slapping you on the ass.

After catching your breath you sit up to find him lounging back, already reaching for a cigarette. Typical. You throw your arms around his waist and lay against his chest.

“I saw you leave with him, that little fucking prick.” He lights his smoke and takes a drag. “I followed you back to his shitty excuse for a home. I know where he lives”

You look up at him, pouting.

“It wasn't his fault, Charles. Can't we leave him out of this?”

He lets out a chuckle and shrugs you off of him.

“Don't play innocent now, sweetheart,” he says, pulling his pants back on. “I know you'd love to tear him apart just as much as I would.”

At that, you flash him a sheepish grin.

“Hurry up and get dressed. You've learnt your lesson. Class is in session for your little friend.”

[sl4sh3rs]

Can we maybe get Chucky x sick reader? (Maybe like their throat hurts so bad they can barely talk?)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

: ̗̀➛ chucky x child!reader (PLATONIC)

Contains; sick!Reader, reader is about 4-6 years old, chucky 'trying to' take care of reader, etc.

You were tossing and turning in your sleep, sweat beads traveling down your face. Both you and Chucky knew you didn’t feel good, and you not being able to talk added to it.

He noticed you tossing back and forth and put a plastic hand on your forehead. You were burning up. It’s like his fatherly instincts kicked in (like he had any). He shook you awake repeating your name.

When you woke up you rubbed your eyes, then tried to talk and realize you couldn’t. You held your mouth open agape before flopping back on your bed and giving up.

“Does it hurt that bad?” He asked. You nodded, rubbing your droopy eyes. He jumped off your bed, his shoes making little squeaks. Which also made you laugh slightly, before holding your throat.

“I’m going to get you something. Anything you do, don’t move.” And he walked out of your room. It felt weird to be sick. You also never really comprehended it, being a child. He quickly returned to your room. He threw something on your bed before struggling to get his little body up.

You managed to squeak a couple words out, your voice straining. “If I can do it, you can too.” He got on your bed and rolled his eyes. “You’re really not going to like me now.” He said as he opened the medicine.

Your eyes shot open while you shook your head repeatedly. “You have to, you wanna feel like this for the rest of your life?” He poured the pink liquid into the cap as you pouted. “Look kid.. if you take it right now, you won’t have to do it for another 12 hours.”

You looked at him with an annoyed glare and took the cap from his hand as you sat up. You wrapped your blankey around your shoulders to feel some sort of comfort in this “traumatizing” situation.

You looked at the liquid swirling in the cup before swallowing it all. This caused you to shake your head and stick out your tongue at the disgusting sensation and taste. He chuckled as you wrapped up in your blanket, resting your head on his shoulder and quickly falling asleep.

a/n: rahhh I love dad chucky ‼️ also sorry this took a while 😪😪

[kisskiss-slashslash]

I saw that you did Jason reacting to a child being pushed by the same lake he was pushed off of.

Can you do one where Michael myers sees a child with an abusive father and a mother who actually cares?

I'm gonna use RZ Michael for this because I think he's the most likely to actually react in that situation.

Warnings: Domestic Abuse

RZ!Michael Myers meeting a child with an abusive father and a caring mother

He first plans to hide out in your house for a bit, and kill the inhabitants if needed. But then, while sneaking through the rooms, he sees your father raise his hand at you while your mother desperately pleads for him to stop, and tries to pull you out of reach.

Michael finds himself reminded of his own childhood. Of his mother. And his sister.

Tall as he is, it only takes a few steps for him to be between you and your father.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

Michael says nothing, only grips his knife tighter and gives the man a blank, emotionless stare.

"I asked you who the fuck you are!"

The punch that hits Michael in the jaw hurt your father probably more than it hurt Michael.

The masked man turns his head half to you and gives your mother an insistent nod, to let her know that she should probably cover your eyes. She quickly gets the hint and presses her hand over the upper half of your face.

The enraged screaming becomes terrified, then ends in a wet gurgle.

You would never see your father again. All that is left of him when your mother finally releases her grip on you is a red stain on the carpet. But even someone as young as you can imagine what happened.

[slasher-jax]

Muti slasher with an child reader headcannons request

The slasher learns about the fact their child is growing a part from them cuz of their murdering. The child has shown that they feel feel force to

plz

OK! I'm gonna choose the characters randomly through wheel and do a few of them. And I am so sorry it took me so long to get done with this.

Characters: v.sinclair, b.sinclair, c.spaulding, art, d.sawyer, b.sawyer

Warnings: teen!reader, slasherchild!reader, mentions of murder, mentions of manipulation, teen!reader runs away, theft, underage drinking, possible underage driving, drinking and driving, underage smoking, drug use, underage drug use, gn!reader, suicide mention, angst

Runaway

V.SINCLAIR

He doesn't exactly like it either, but what Bo says goes

He tried to sypathize with you, but the further you pushed yourself away, the harder he found to communicate with you

He tried taking you downstairs to his "art studio" once so y'all could spend time together but he chose a bad time to do so as Bo came downstairs carrying a dead body which sent you into a frenzy

You locked yourself in your room and cried most of the night while Vincent, silently, went off on Bo

After awhile Vincent walked upstairs to your room to apologize, just to see you not there and the window wide open

He also noticed tons of empty beer bottles and medicine containers

He runs over to the window and notices your getting into his truck and quickly rushes out after you

By the time he makes his way downstairs, you've already drove off and almost out of town

He is absolutely crushed

His darling child ran off, and it's all his twins fault

He's gonna get Lester to go looking for you, and he his going off even worse on Bo now

Bo actually feels bad now, although he is calling you a little priss, he does feel bad for scaring his brothers child away

So now Bo is looking for you too

Needless to say, they find you eventually on the side of the road throwing up

They take you home, however you start staying with Lester on the outskirts of town so you are less likely to encounter victims or the bodies of victims

B.SINCLAIR

He doesn't care

He does, but he doesn't

He loves you, but no child of his is going to be a little priss

He eventually tries manipulating you into killing people

^Like he done with Vincent

He tries talking to you about how proud he'll be of you, how proud uncle Vince will be of you, how proud Grandma will be of you

And eventually he wears you down, getting you to agree to kill

However, what he doesn't realize, is he also drove you into drug use and abuse

He only figured this out when he noticed three bottles of liquor gone from the freezer

It was a pretty rough night

A mother and her daughter had found their way into town and instead of going out himself, Bo sent you

He handed you the shotgun and sent you on your way

Well, you killed the mom, but couldn't kill the little girl (not like he would make you kill a child) so you instead took her to your dad's (Bo's) truck and told her to sit there

Anyways, at first, not thinking you would do such a thing, he asked Vincent and Lester, receiving the same answers from both of them

"I ain't seen no liquor in a while."

After a while of thinking he had drunk it and forgot, he heard a thud upstairs, in your room

The thump was followed by a small "Ow" and some giggles

He slowly made it up the steps, calling out for you

He goes to push the door open, but he hears a truck start outside

He rushes out just to see you in the front seat of his truck with a little girl in the passenger seat

You pulled out of the driveway and handed the little girl one of his liquor bottles to throw at him

And throw she did, it landed directly between his eyes, knocking him out on contact

You had stolen his wallet before leaving, so it's safe to say, you're not coming back

C. SPAULDING

He doesn't even really kill unless he's like protecting his family, himself, or his gas station

He doesn't mind you not wanting to be around the violence and won't go out of his way to shield you from it, but he'll place his hand or arm across your eyes if your close enough

Overall, possibly the best parent

ART

Definitely mimes empathy then (silently) laughs in your face

Makes sure you see so much gore it's a bit much even for the gore enjoyers

Once snatched a still beating heart out of someones chest and shoved it into your mouth, forcing you to eat it

The worst parent if you don't like killing

And you aren't running away either, he and (I'ma refer to her as ghost girl) will find you no matter where you try to go

And don't even think about killing yourself, Ghost Girl will just reincarnate you

D.SAWYER

*eats you*

I'm just kidding, but seriously?

You are in a family of cannibals, but you hate violence?

I imagine since he doesn't really like it either, he'll just keep you at the gas station with him when Nubbins, Bubba, and/or Chop-Top are killing people

He tries to be more sympathetic with you, but gives up eventually and hits you with his broom until you stop crying or Bubba runs him off

Don't get me wrong, Bubba is scared of him, but he will push him away from you or fuck something up else where to get Drayton off your back a little bit

Leave it to uncle Bubba to take a beating for you

Nubbins also tries to help sometimes by spitting at Drayton and getting him to chase him, but it doesn't really work half as much as it does with Bubba as Nubbins just runs off and hides while Bubba actually takes the beating

Chop Top doesn't really care but if he does see it getting excessive, he will throw something at Drayton and run

Once again, not as much of a relief as Bubba's unless Bubba rushes in, picks you up and hides you from him

B.SAWYER

100% the most caring one

He tries to shield you from it, can and will go out of his way to shield you from it

^A few victims have gotten away because of that

He kinda feels like if you're around it long enough then you'll get used to it (desensitized to it like he is)

He tried testing the theory once, but after witnessing you go through a panic attack so bad he was scared he almost killed you, he never done it again

He definitely shields you from Drayton too

He makes sure to send you into the field of sunflowers when he knows that they are gonna kill people that night

That ended after a victim tried to kidnap you tho, so now you are sent to your room with a pair of headphones and Chop-Tops records

Tags:

@puppet200 @zeroisreallygood @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @im-a-simp898 @aflairforthemelodramaticc @luciluck2046 @caretaleandotherstuff @evry1h8s-me

[cherryrainn]

hello! i've noticed you've started writing for slashers now. can i pleaaaaseee get a chucky (show) x depressed/suicidal reader? like they come back from school and have a little breakdown and chucky does something about it cuz he has a soft spot for them?

STRIVE .

; pairing ; chucky x reader (platonic)

; note ; i love this little guy so much thank you for your ask aaa

; warnings ; implied/mentions of self-harm, self harm scars, depression, suicidal thoughts

the door slammed shut as you stumbled into your room, backpack dropping to the floor. the weight of the day pressed down on your shoulders, and the room felt like a suffocating mess. you kicked off your shoes, barely registering the mess around you.

little did you remember the small doll on your shelf, his tiny eyes watching your every move. he had an unusual soft spot for you.

your hands shook as you tried to pull yourself together, but the room seemed to spin with chaos. clothes were scattered, and the once-organized desk was now a disaster zone. your vision blurred with unshed tears, and in a moment of desperation, you swiped everything off the desk.

thunk.

a small sound caught your attention, and you looked down to see chucky lying on the floor, separated from his usual perch. his eyes seemed to convey a mix of concern and annoyance.

"aw, come on, kid. watch where you're throwin' stuff," he grumbled, picking himself up from the floor.

you blinked, recognizing the doll but not fully comprehending the situation. "chucky? what are you doing here?"

he rolled his eyes, a hint of impatience in his tiny features. "been keepin' an eye on you, remember? you look like you're having a.. rough day."

you sighed, running a hand through your disheveled hair. "it's more than a rough day. everything just feels... bad."

as you spoke, chucky's sharp eyes took in the state of your room, the disarray reflecting the chaos within you. when you absentmindedly reached for something, a small glint of metal catching the light, he noticed the blade in your hand.

"whoa, whoa, whoa! what do you think you're doing?" chucky's tone shifted from annoyance to genuine concern.

your gaze dropped to the blade, and a shaky breath escaped your lips. "i don't know. everything just hurts."

he huffed, shaking his tiny head. "you gotta cut that shit out." he realizes what he says and shakes his head "there's better ways to deal with this stuff. trust me."

without waiting for your response, chucky jumped onto the bed, grabbing a tissue box from the nightstand. he began tidying up the room, muttering to himself about how a clean space might help clear your head.

you watched in a mix of confusion and gratitude as chucky worked, helping you without a hint of his usual murderous intent. the doll's actions spoke louder than his words ever could, and slowly, the weight on your chest began to ease.

when the room was somewhat orderly, chucky hopped back onto the bed, giving you a small nod. "alright. let's see the damage you did to yourself," he said, his tone stern.

you hesitated, feeling a strange mix of shame and vulnerability. slowly, you revealed the self-inflicted wounds on your arms. the harsh reality of your actions was laid bare for chucky to see.

chucky's features turned grim as you revealed the scars and wounds that marred your skin.

"damn it. look at what you're doin' to yourself," chucky growled, a flicker of anger in his tiny eyes. "you think this is gonna solve anything?"

his words stung, but there was an odd sincerity in the way he spoke. you could tell he wasn't one for empty platitudes or gentle reassurances; he dealt in harsh realities.

"hurtin' yourself ain't gonna fix a damn thing. you're just addin' more pain."

you bit your lip, fighting back tears as the weight of chucky's honesty settled in the room.

"i know it's messed up, chucky," you admitted, your voice a whisper. "but what else am i supposed to do? talking to people doesn't help. it never does."

chucky sighed, his tiny features scowling. "yeah, talkin' ain't usually the answer. but this?" he gestured to your scars. "this sure as shit ain't either."

the small doll hopped off the bed, pacing the room as he continued, "you gotta find somethin' else, somethin' that makes you feel alive, even if it's just for a damn minute. for me, it's killin' people. it's what makes me feel alive, it's not about fixin' everything; it's about findin' somethin' worth hangin' on for."

"i get that,," you mumbled, wiping away a stray tear. "but it's hard."

he shot you a stern look, his tiny hands planted firmly on his hips. "life's a damn tough ride, kid. but you're tougher."

you stayed silent, looking down.

"come on," chucky said, suddenly shifting gears. "let's get you something to distract that fucked-up brain of yours. ever tried playing video games?"

you blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in tone. "video games? really, chucky?"

he nodded, a sly grin crossing his plastic face. "trust me, it beats the hell out of scarin' yourself."

[semiweirdshipper]

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.

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

slashers x child!reader who likes to take apart their toys to make little inventions/new toys

*dies* I didn't add Billy and stu because I'm so tired and have no inspiration

Slashers x child! Reader who rips other toys to built new ones.

Michael

You probably got old dolls from a few decades ago from Judith's old toys she had when she was a child or his.

Michael didn't care that much that you were destroying the toys until he saw you either only ripped a limb or a head.

He then came and saw you with a toy he never saw before when he recognised some parts and realised you built a new toy out of different toys.

He'll admire it like how he'll admire his "art works" after killing someone. The more weirder and creepier the more he'll like it. although he'll like any kind of invention you make.

When you ran out of toys he broke in a toy shop once and got as many as he could and gave them to you.

You got a whole shelf of your little inventions and he stares at it whenever you're gone and he has nothing to do.

Sinclair brothers

They got you either old toys of theirs (I hv no idea if they had toys as children) or toys around the town.

Bo was like 'why??' when you took apart your toys parts but when he saw you building a new one he thought 'wait that's kinda cool actually' he thinks of it like repairing or building a car so when he actually is repairing a car he'd like it if you were also building something so that you can both look like father and daughter doing similar things. When you finished a piece and showed it to him he probably petted your head and said "good job", what he really wanted to say was 'oh my god, oh my god holy shit it's beautiful you built something in so proud of you'. Got one or two of yours as a gift to him and he keeps it extra safe.

Vincent was ecstatic when you showed him your new toy and told him your little hobby, now you both can make art! He could be painting or wax sculpturing and you could be building with him. He's so proud of you whenever you managed to fully make a toy he howls a bit in delight and gives you two thumbs up and he probably sketches your toys because he thinks they're so interesting. He'll be a bit sad when he sees his childhood toys broken though he thinks your new ones are totally worth it. He sometimes likes you watch you do your thing and helps you if you can't figure out what to make.

Lester was also whying when he saw you taking apart the toys, did you hate it that much? But he went wowing when he saw what you were actually doing and totally watches you make your new toys. He will say so many praises when you finish it, will talk about it to his brothers and bo acts annoyed but he secretly wants to hear all about it too. Wants to learn how to build too, it gets boring having nothing to do driving around all day you know. except when tourists are here but scratch that the twins will sometimes find you both together on Lester's trunk on a challenge to see who can build faster and better, its a tie everytime. Jonesy would be there to watch you two (everyone's watching) if you run out of toys then he'll bring you abandoned cheaper ones.

Hannibal

I think it all started when he brought you expensive nice ones and you took one look at it and then ripped it. He almost choked on air when he saw that.

"y/n.. Why did you do that if you didn't like it you could've just told me..."

When you told him about your intentions he replied with,

"I wish you could've told me that sooner, I could've brought cheaper ones." he pinches the bridge of his nose.

And he did. And he watches with great interest on how your little invention will turn out and smiles and praises you when you show him your art piece. Also like Michael he had shelf/shelves full of your works. Informs Will about this too this is how it goes.

_________________________________________

Will, Will look what y/n made.

Hannibal it's 2 am.

_________________________________________

He's a happy little cat when you talk to him about your toys and he's just glad he adopted you. Like Vincent you both can do your little art things.