#non slasher

[slasher-lovers-blog]

Avatar: the way of water! Contains spoilers!!

My opinion of how the movie went:

The beginning was kinda rushed in my opinion. It was like they quickly skipped over the beginning of the kids life and suddenly them all being grown to teens. I wished we could see how Lo'ak was able to tame his ikran aswell as Neteyaw.

I felt that the cuts between scenes were sudden and didn't follow up the next part.

The moment were neteyaw got hit was sudden. I didn't even see him get hit when he jumped in the water, it was like they suddenly decided to kill him off. (Maybe i'm still in denial 🤷‍♀️)

I loved how neytiri looked different than in the first movie. Cause she's now 33 years old and it's great to see the details.

God i would be terrified to see Neytiri going insane and killing those soldiers while growling at them

It shows a lot of what we humans do wrong, like whale hunting. It's awfull to see the mother tulkun get separated before getting killed with her calf.

[sammysammer]

A few days ago the burrow was talking about making au jaxes into bnnuys in vc :3

wonderland au - @endomentendo

monster labs au - @etanow

slasher au - @justwantswafflefries

Hearts au - @itsnixderlol

puppeteer au - @rorydrawsandwrites

dreamland au - @yunfox00

streamers au - @ebonnat

carnival au - @sm-baby

dimensions au - @iguessimfished

guardian angels au - @sorascribbless

murder of the digital train - @g00bergoo

Bands au - @raggedypina

[charliemwrites]

Part 9 of Charmed Slasher Simon

(CW: this is all basically noncon. Like, yeah they had a “deal” but it’s not like it was agreed on in good faith ya know? Stay safe while reading, please, and let me know if this warning needs to be more descriptive)

You shake as Simon trails his fingers absently along your tummy, amused by the way it twitches, tickling and frightened in equal measures. So much he wants to do to you, but only so much you’ll be able to take for this first little triste.

Besides, though not long for this world, there’s only so much he wants that little worm to see of you.

“You ever spend so long fantasizing about something that when the moment finally comes, you’re just spoiled for options?” he muses aloud, pinching your nipples through your thin shirt. He can hear the high pitched noises trapped in the back of your throat, tsks at the denial.

“I’m usually a decisive man, you know that, sunshine. But all the things I want to do to you…”

You squirm when he pinches a bit harder, adding a little twist. He shuffles his knee between your thighs and pulls you back, making you grind against his thigh with every involuntary twitch and shudder.

“Could bruise this pretty ass for running out into the snow like that, reckless thing.” You jolt when he palms the plush fat of one cheek. “Or I could just torture your tight little hole. Leave that pretty pussy aching…”

You make a noise like a sob as his thumb rubs through the layers of your pants and underwear. You try to lean away but he’s got such a tight grip on your wrists that all it does is arch your back.

He inches his fingers over the crest of your hip again, dips back to your swollen clit and soaked cunt. Hell, you’re even wetter than before, a sticky line running down your thigh, fabric clinging to overheated skin. He groans against your throat, has to see it for himself.

You try to protest as he yanks your waistbands down to mid thigh, but he quiets you with those same two fingers stuff in your mouth, teeth scraping his knuckles. You nearly gag as he pets the back of your tongue, imagines how it’ll feel against the fat head of his cock.

In the firelight, you’re gleaming, something out of a fever dream. He leans you back farther and forces your legs wider with his own, lets the heat caress at the insides of your thighs, the creamy slick webbing between your lips.

“Fuck, maybe I should just play with this, huh?” He rasps. “Watched you do it so many times. You don’t know how to edge yourself properly, luv. Always let yourself give in too soon.”

You make a startled noise, huge, watery eyes finding his. He chuckles at the mortified question in them, teases his fingertips over your slit.

“Yeah, sunshine. I watched you fuck this pretty pussy, cryin’ ‘n pleadin’ for me,” he purrs in your ear. “Took everythin’ in me to let you have your fun, to keep from showin’ you how it’s done…”

He circles a finger over your clit, a barely-there brush that makes your pretty wet lashes flutter. Over and over, watches that flush bloom steadily over your face, down your neck. The haze glossing over your eyes.

“How about that, hm? We’ll start from the beginning and work our way through my list.”

He slips his fingers from your mouth, watches you lick unconsciously at the taste of him lingering on your lips.

“Y-you’re not gonna…?”

He tilts his head, narrows his eyes. Fills in the blanks and can’t help growling.

“Oh, you want me to hurt you, is that it?” he asks. “You want - no, you need an excuse to hate me. You’re hoping I tear you up so that you have an easy out for all these confusing feelings.”

You try to babble out a denial but the shock in your eyes is all the confirmation he needs. He tamps down his anger by dragging his teeth along your neck, working a dark mark into the skin.

You don’t know any better, he reminds himself. But you will.

“Don’t you worry, luv, there will be plenty of punishment for you,” he rumbles. “But you’re going to beg me for it.”

You open your mouth, maybe to deny it, but he pinches your sensitive little clit between two fingers and revels in the way you squeal.

He instantly soothes the ache with gentle circles, trailing kisses along your jaw. Tastes fresh salt on your skin.

“Best save your tears, precious,” he warns, smirking. “You’ll need them.”

He parts your lips with two fingers, leaving you open and exposed, groaning through his teeth at the sight of you. Wet and swollen, so needy for him. You try to buck away when he rubs a finger over your clit, firm strokes up and down.

“If you don’t stay still and take it like a good girl, I’ll tie you down and make you be a good girl.”

You duck your chin, eyes squeezed miserably shut as you try to lock down your body. It’s ridiculously endearing, how you wiggle and then catch yourself, breath hitching as you wait for him to lose patience. He hums whenever you start getting to squirmy, delights in the way you shiver and sink your teeth into your lip. Settle down only for him to change the tempo or the pattern and ruin all your self control.

He amuses himself drawing patterns all over your pulsing clit - circles and stars. Hearts that make your eyes roll back in your head. Zig zags from your weeping hole up to the very top of your slit.

It takes a while for you to truly approach your orgasm with the way he denies you a proper rhythm to build on. But he notices the moment you finally start to reach that peak, not even his reminder to hold still can keep you from twitching and rocking, helpless little jolts of your hips.

He coos. “So desperate to finish. Is it because you think I’ll be done with you once you do?”

You don’t answer, too busy trying to get more friction, more pressure. He lets you rush right up to the edge and then stops, skipping down to circle your hole. Luxuriates in the fresh flood of wetness coating your thighs. It yanks you back like a dog on a leash, your orgasm right there but just out of reach.

You don’t even seem to realize what’s happened for a second, mouth hanging open and a cute little furrow between your brow. When he chuckles, teasing up to that sensitive bundle of nerves again, it seems to click. You shoot him a dismayed look, the most precious hint of betrayal lurking in your glassy irises.

“N-no…” you nearly beg.

He smirks, nips at your puffy bottom lip. “You can say no if you like. Or even stop. We had a deal, though, didn’t we?”

“R-Riley…”

You scream when he spanks your pussy. Not nearly as hard as he craves, but it sends pretty streamers of tears down your hot cheeks. Another, two fingers directly to your clit. You nearly crumple, only his hold on your wrists keeping you upright.

“My real name, sunshine, or I’ll give you a reason to say no,” he warns.

“S-Simon,” you whimper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He shushes you, petting apologetically at your throbbing core.

“I know, luv, I know. But you’ll never learn if I don’t teach you right.”

The tears don’t stop as he drags you right up to the edge again, bullying through the lingering sting of getting spanked with overwhelming pleasure. When he pulls back a second time, you start up the “no’s” again, voice shattered into pathetic little pieces.

“That’s alright,” he murmurs, “say whatever you need to get you through, I won’t be mad.”

He gets you so so close once again, cock twitching against your ass as it grinds back against him. But he lightens his touch, not stopping but not letting you fall, easing the pressure up and up and up until even the slightest graze would break you.

Instead, he pulls away entirely to squeeze at the plush of your thighs and hips, cooing over the way they shake for him.

“Simon,” you sob, tucking into his chest. He slows his touches, watching you try to curl into him, chest burning with something bloodier than love. “Simon, please. It hurts.”

He hums, sliding his hand back up to your pussy, massaging your labia. Careful not to touch your needy clit.

“It hurts, hm?” he croons, unable to keep the mean pleasure from his voice. “It wasn’t supposed to. Where does it hurt?”

You hiccup, sniffle. “M-my… my…”

“Tell me, sunshine, or I can’t make it better.”

You fold a bit, bounce, almost like a tantrum. So out of control on sensation and emotion that you can’t keep it together as you form the words.

“M-my pussy. It — I need…”

He hums again, fingers trailing down to your hole. Teases his finger at your entrance and feels it spasming around nothing.

“So empty,” he breathes. “Is that it, luv? Your little cunt is aching to be filled?”

You shudder on a cry but nod, face hidden against his neck. He lets you, far too endeared by your attempts to find comfort from the man torturing you in the first place.

“Hurts,” you repeat.

“Do you hate me yet?” he mocks.

You keen softly. “Y-yes.”

A tap to your clit again. If you weren’t so strung out you’d probably even find it pleasurable but right now it makes you writhe and beg him to stop.

“Dont lie,” he warns, voice low, “where are my good girl’s manners?”

“‘M sorry,” you whine.

“One more time now - do you hate me yet?”

Your words seem to get caught up in your throat so you shake your head. Hes tempted - so, so tempted - to make you admit it aloud. But he doesn’t want to be too mean, not yet.

“Good girl,” he whispers, “that’s my girl. You want me to make you feel better now?”

You sniffle again, lean back into him a bit more. “Please.”

“There we go,” he praises, “nice and polite. I’ll take care of you, luv.”

Your body is so ready that it’s nothing for him to slide a finger into you, slick already running down his palm.

“N-no no,” you mumble.

“No what? I’m making you feel better.”

“‘S not — need more. Please, please, Simon.”

It’s hearing his real name in your small, reedy voice that finally appeals to what little mercy he has. He fits two fingers into your cunt and curves them to rub your silky walls.

“Fuck, you’re tight, sunshine,” he groans through his teeth. “You’re gonna choke my cock.”

You squeal as he starts rocking his hand, fucking you at an easy pace, getting you accustomed to the new stimulation. Starts building up your orgasm again, piece by moaning piece, finding every spot that makes your back bow with pleasure.

“Please, please, lemme cum this time Simon, I’ll be good, I promise.”

He huffs in amusement, caressing his thumb over your crossed wrists.

“Oh baby, you don’t have a choice.”

He flattens his palm against your core and pumps his fingers faster, harder. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit with each twitch of his wrist. You get tighter and tighter, voice pitching up and up, until your entire body goes taut, walls clamping down almost painfully.

He strokes you through it, brutal and relentless until you’re screaming at him to stop. That it’s too much. He releases your wrists to wrap his hand around your throat, obsessed with how delicate it feels in his palm. Just the slightest squeeze of his fingers and your eyes roll back. The second orgasm gushes from your abused cunt, all over his wrist and your thighs, dripping puddles onto the carpet.

He loosens his hold slowly, work you over through it, feeling you squeeze and pulse with aftershocks.

When he glances at your pretty, flushed, and tear-stained face, your eyes are shut. Out cold.

He chuckles and gently lays you out closer to the fire, grabs a pillow from a nearby chair to set under your head. Lingers for a moment, rubbing over your back, massaging gently at your shoulders. Your wrists are already bruising.

Then a muffled noise calls his attention.

Brandon.

“Now the second half of the deal.”

First | Previous | TBC

Masterlist

[smuthospital]

🎃⭐️Texas Chainsaw Massacre x reader⭐️🎃

Art by: Minilev

Premise: You go hiking with a friend and this bitch has the audacity to leave you alone. You end up hitchhiking with some hippies, but their van gets a flat! Oh no! Good thing there's a farmhouse nearby. Maybe they can help

Note: I had this in the drafts for awhile. I decided to whip it out for halloween. Enjoy. Say one thing bad thats not constructive criticism and its a block. Tired of these fucking kids smh. Also, imagine everyone with a soulthern accent

-Dr. Smut

Minors DNI

Warning: Non-Con, side charicter death, mentions of gore, kidnapping, fem reader

"So uh..thanks for picking me up." You say with a nervous smile. You refrain from coughing as the strong smell of marijuana floods your nose. Right now, you're in a classic 70s Volkswagen van, hitchhiking through Texas. Your friend convinced you to go backpacking with her, but a quarterway through, she ditched you to continue the trip with her new boyfriend. Some junky she met at a gas station. You can't exactly turn tail and go home because she took the car, and stranded you in the middle of nowhere so, you had no choice, but to catch a ride with some hippies.

"No prob, sweet cheeks. Anything for a pretty lil' lady like yourself." The driver looks back at you for a moment and winks. You think he may like you. You cringe slightly. "Eddy has a crush on you! Ain't that right, Ed?" A girl next to you wearing a tie-dye crop top pokes Edds back a couple of times. "Well, who wouldn't?" He chuckles. You play with your fingers nervously. You've been driving along a dusty, desolate path through some empty part of Texas for a while now. You've always been perturbed by the idea of Texas. Americans and with their guns and hot temper and all. It seems you may have watched too many scary movies. You haven't seen a soul for miles, let alone a house, just tall grass and more tall grass.

The car suddenly jolts and you're all jostled around. The girl sitting next to you clings to you as the driver slams the brakes. You gasp for air, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Huh!? W-what the!?" Edd shouts before hopping out to investigate. You cautiously slip out the back and join him. Edd lifts a spiked wire. It's still stuck in the now flat tire. "Some asshole must'a dropped it here while delivering somethin'," he says as he drops it back on the ground. It popped the back tires. You pull out your phone. No service. Of course.

"Do you have any spares?" You ask, hoping to get out of this creepy place. "Unfortunately these are the spares, sweet cheeks." He sighs. "Weren't you supposed to buy more, Ed?" Ann shouts from the window. "This is no time to argue! We have to get help!… Look, There's a farmhouse right there. Let's hope someone's home." He says, walking towards it.

You hesitantly follow them to the creepy house. "I'm gonna check the farm, you two knock on the door." Edd doesn't give anyone time to respond before he walks off. You walk up to the front door and Ann knocks. You feel like you're being watched. You shift from foot to foot nervously. A few minutes pass and no word. Not even a sound. "What the? Where's Edd? If no one was home, he should be back by now!" Ann looks around. You begin feeling incredibly anxious. "Let's go find that idiot," she says and walks off quickly, you follow behind her. You can't leave her to do it by herself so you agree. You walk over to the farm and see…the gate open.

"H..hello?" You call. "E-Edd?"…No response. The two of you cautiously walk into the house. It smells like wood and iron. You see a red smudge on the wall…weird. This is getting scary. "Ann…I think we sh-" You're cut off by a blood-curdling scream from Ann. You quickly go over to the open doorway she's looking at to see a horrific sight. Edd has been cut to pieces. You hold back bile in your throat and grab Ann. "Let's go!" You shout. She snaps out of her trance and follows you to the entryway, only for the two of you to halt in your tracks.

Standing there is a giant, his hulking frame filling the doorway. He's the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life. A mask covers half his face, and in his arms is a chainsaw. You make eye contact with the beast and scream. Ann yanks you deeper into the house, hoping to find an exit. The man follows you, hot on your trail. You see a back door and try to open it, but it's locked. Cassie then barely avoids losing her arm as she dodges the giant.

He hasn't tried to attack you yet. You grab a chair and smash it through a window. You pick up a plant and throw it at the man, who cornered Ann. He's completely unphased, but pauses and looks at you as if to warn you. You toss his warning to the wind and jump on his back. "Ann, go!" You scream. Ann runs towards the window but stops when another man shorter than the man you're currently on top of, smashes a hammer onto her head.

You hear a crack and she falls to the floor, limp. "Ann!" You cry. Your body was then slammed to the floor by the hulking, chainsaw-wielding psychopath. You whimper and crawl backwards. You hit a wall and he lifts his chainsaw towards you. You're thankful It's turned off. You close your eyes and wait for death. You feel the blade lightly touch your collarbone…and then gently move down between your breasts and to the junction between your spread legs…he rubs your thigh with the chainsaw lightly, as if thinking. You look up at him in confusion. He tosses the saw to the side and grabs your face in his large hand. He tilts your head from side to side, examining you.

"Think she's pretty, Tommy?" The man who just attacked Ann asked.

'Tommy', the giant holding your face grunts and nods. You're horrified. Does this monster think you're pretty? "Yeah, I agree, Tommy. Good thing you didn't turn her into dinner… though, I don't think you were gonna. You had your eye on her since their car landed in our road trap." He laughed. Trap!? This was all a setup!? Did he say dinner!? Your head is spinning.

Tommy looped his bur waist arm around your waist and hoisted you up, placing you on his shoulder like you weighed a small sack of potatoes. "H-hey! What are you doing? Put me down!" You shout, pounding your hands on his back, but it doesn't even look like he knows you're hitting him. You hear footsteps and look up to see an old woman looking over at you. “P-please help me” you whimper. She smiles down at you sweetly.

"Well, I do say, you sure found yourself a sweet little thing. Ain't that right, Thomas.” The hulking figure above you grunts in agreement. You cry as you realize she has no intention of helping you in the least. “She has a pretty voice too…Take care of my Tommy, girl!” She warns, glaring down at you. “Tommy. Get'er to pop out a few farmhands, will you?" All blood drains from your face. They…want you to…what? Tommy carries you down into a dark, creepy basement. You almost puke. You see dead bodies hanging from hooks and dismembered limbs and bones strewn about….is that Edd? You're carried down a hallway and into a room. The room is empty besides a dirty mattress in a corner. He throws you on the mattress and begins to undress you immediately.

You scream and try to stop him, but he's just too strong. "P-Please stop!" You cry. Tears flow down your cheeks and you hiccup. Tommy leans down and wipes away your tears, not calming you in the slightest. He strips you down to your bra and panties and takes a good look at you, drinking up your body. You can see the lust in his eyes. He grunts in excitement and removes his bloody apron. You curl your body up and hide yourself from him. He softly strokes your cheek and hugs you like you're a teddy bear. He's oddly gentle, but you feel he's losing patience. He taps your shoulder a few times, silently urging you to show yourself to him. when you don't, his taps become a little harder. He grunts in annoyance. He presses himself into you, trying to get closer. You feel his hard cock through his pants and try to shuffle back.

He grunts in frustration, yanking your arm and knees apart, forcing your body to reveal. You need to do something!…" Please,… don't hurt me, Tommy" He only stares into your eyes. You can see emotions swirl in his eyes before he lets go of you and stomps out of the room. Looks like he's giving you time to cooperate. You bring your hands to your face and sob. You look up. You have to get out of here! You hope to god you can do this. You get up and tip-toe towards the door as quietly as you can. You slowly open it and slide it open just enough for you to fit through, which proves to be quite difficult as it's very heavy. You don't know how the monster did it before.

You continue to quietly make your way down the dark hallway, missing the dark shadow to your side. You try not to look around too much at the carnage before making your way up the stairs. You find the window you previously broke now boarded up. You take a deep breath, preparing to make a run for the front door. You haven't heard anyone yet so you think you're still in the clear. You make it to the front door and just as you're about to try and open it, your body is slammed against the wall, your breath knocked out of you. You cough and groan. You feel dizzy. You look up to see Tommy staring down at you with a look of anger. Was he waiting for you to try to escape?

You grit your teeth before lifting your knee to knee him in the crotch, but he anticipates it and grabs your leg, lifting it. He makes space for himself between your legs and lets his large hands roam your bare midriff and up to your breasts where he proceeds to rip off your bra, revealing your chest to him. You whimper in pain and try to hide yourself, earning yourself a shove into the wall, banging your head slightly.

The corners of your eyes go dark for a few moments. Your head stops spinning when he leans down and slides his tongue up your cheek. His other hand reaches down and roughly grabs at your clothed cunt. He makes sounds of excitement once again. Saying you're terrified would be an understatement. You feel his fingers cup and wiggle around down there, not knowing what to do, but liking the feeling of doing it.

You again try to shove him off as best you can. He grunts in annoyance and moves the hand previously on your chest up to your throat. Your whimpers and please turn into choked gasps and gurgles as he squeezes. He gets even closer and you can feel something hard rub against your lower stomach. "Get her, Tommy, get her!" You hear from behind him. He grunts in response and tears off your underwear. He brings it to his nose and inhales. His eyes roll back a bit as if smelling the most heavenly scent imaginable.

You now realize he's probably never held a woman before and he's completely deprived of any sort of warm human touch. "Common, Tommy, gimme that! You get to have her, the least I should get is her undies!" His brother pleads. Tommy contemplates holding the small bit of cloth in front of him before tossing it back, which his brother catches and desperately presses to his face, moaning into the fabric like it's an oxygen mask.

Tommy grabs your hair and begins dragging you back down to the basement. You scream in pain and grab onto his hand for any relief as you're forced to the ground. "No! Please! Ahh Stop!" You cry out. He drags your naked body down the blood-crusted steps and makes his way back to the room you dread. He tosses you onto the mattress once again. By the time you manage to get up on your knees, you hear a clinking sound and turn to see him undoing his belt.

You crawl into the corner as he gets on his knees before you, his shadow casting over you. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off. You now know that trying to inflict pain on him is futile. Muscles that scream he could crush you like a soda can. Not only is he as big as a fridge, but he also looks like an off-season pro wrestler. You can see a very prominent bulge struggling to free itself. The size of the tent itself is intimidating.

His eyes lock on yours as he slowly unzips his belt and frees his aching cock. You look away and feel his weight settle on the bed closer to you. You can feel his heavy breathing on the side of your face. He grabs your legs and yanks you beneath him, positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his bulbous tip rub up and down your folds. "Please…" Your eyes widen and you trail off as your eyes lower to what's prodding at your cunt. You want to look away, but morbid curiosity wins. It's almost unbelievable. His cock like himself, is too big. It's long, very thick and veiny. It looks like a beer can. You can just tell he's smiling under his mask.

He slowly pushes the tip in. You try to scoot back, but he grips your hips with his massive hands and pushes forward, but fails entry, seeming too big. He grunts in frustration. He tries again, this time managing to push the tip in. You scream. It hurts so bad. "No, y-you're too big!" you gasp, squirming in place. He holds your hips tighter and continues pushing forward, impaling you on his cock, all the way to the base.

Your mind blanks. You're unable to think cohesively. You're in so much pain. He lets out a groan of pleasure and doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size and just starts moving. It feels like your organs are moving around to accommodate his massive size. You look down to see a large bulge in your lower stomach. You whimper and groan as he thrusts. "W-why?" You croak. He looks up at you before lifting your knees, pressing them to your chest and leaning on you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him push deeper into your womb, the tip of his cock threatening to push through your cervix. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, cooing softly to you affectionately while playing with your hair as if to say 'I love you'.

You cry beneath him, moans being forced from your lips as his hips plow into yours. Tommy grabs your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can hear him making happy sounds of some sort between grunts. He suddenly picks you up and gets off the bed with you in his arms, skewering you on his cock. He raises you up and down like a human fleshlight. You uncontrollably moan into his shoulder. His hands grope your ass as he starts to force you up and down faster. It feels good. You can't help but feel shame.

He grunts loudly and forces himself as deep as he can. You whine as you feel a rush of hot cum flow into you. Rope after rope, he fills you up. You feel so hot inside. Your stomach bloats from the sheer volume he fucked into you. He pants and looks at you, rubbing your cheek with his. He slowly lifts you off his cock, cum pouring from your abused cunt before setting you down on the mattress. He covers you with a thick warm blanket and brushes your hair from your face, stroking it with his thumb lovingly. If you knew this was gonna be a one-way trip, you would've brought some pillows.

[tiredsurvivoronmain]

Warmup sketches of some irl oceanic animals but made more beast-like~

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers I think would make great ace partners.

I made this purely for my ace friends and followers. You don't have to agree with anything I say. This was made based on my own opinions and speculation. Like I said, you don't have to read this or agree with anything I say. These were also based on my own interpretations of the killers- aka- emotional support slashers.

1). Albert Wesker

I feel like a lot of people might disagree with me on this one, but I actually believe that Albert would gladly accept an ace partner. Albert has a high standard for people, especially partners. He puts personality value and skill value above all else. He looks for someone who is smart, talented, trustworthy, dependable and loyal. He wants someone who isn't too physically needy and can hold their own while he's gone on long trips. If he can have a partner who meets those needs, then I think he'd probably care less about sexual gratification. He would probably love to tease, pamper and spoil his partner as well for he just loves showing off how good he is at taking care of his loved one.

2). Michael Myers

It goes without saying that Michael probably despises sex or has no idea what sex actually is. If Michael were to find a partner, I think he'd choose a partner who is interesting, emotional and has certain needs. Michael is a protector; he likes guarding his loved one and providing them with care. He finds pride in the service he provides them, especially if it makes them feel happy, comfortable and safe. I do think Michael would like to hold and/or cuddle his partner, but not much more than that. Sex isn't even a part of his vocabulary. He loves his partner no matter who they are.

3). Jason Voorhees (the ultimate baby boy!)

The ultimate sexual pleasure destroyer here who kills every naked person in literally every movie, lol. Jason is a person who needs love, acceptance and reassurance, so he seeks out a partner who is kind, modest and pure. Jason is number one when it comes to putting personality value first. He could care less what his partner looks like, just as long as they are empathetic, accepting, trustworthy, loyal and compassionate. He also probably does love hugs, cuddles and soft, platonic touches because it makes him feel good, but sex is a no no. Jason is extremely caring too, so if his partner has needs, he will glady take care of them. He is a protector.

4). Pinhead/Elliot Spencer (baby boy number 2!)

I believe, due to his power, Elliot can feel the pleasure and determine the worth of a person without even touching them. Physical/sexual gratification isn't exactly something he needs to be able to feel what his partner is feeling. Elliot has a significant attraction towards those who are strong, passionate and determined. The worth of his partner is determined by their aspirations and outlooks on life. He loves to feel their emotions through the bond that they share because it's more meaningful and important to him. I think Elliot would also be pretty obedient and considerate, putting the needs of his partner first. You wanna cuddle? Then let's cuddle. You want space? Then you have your space, he understands.

5). Pyramid Head/The Executioner

I believe that Pyramid baby here is a special case because I don't think he has a "type". I believe he discovers love at first sight- like a soulmate thing. Doesn't matter what the person looks like or anything else. When he can feel that his potential partner is true to him despite whatever flaws they may have, he will instantly submit himself and live up to their expectations. If they prefer not to have sex, then that is perfectly fine. Just as long as this incredible person will stay with him, show him the world and share all kinds of meaningful experiences with him, then he will be infinitely grateful.

6). Jeffrey Hawk/Kenneth Chase (baby boy number 3!)

Jeffrey Hawk is a classical Kentucky tease (psst, I literally have no idea if he's from Kentucky. I just made it up, hehehe). Jeffrey does not define his partner's worth based on anything other than personality. Appearance doesn't matter, financial stance doesn't matter. Just as long as his partner is honest, loyal, caring and fun, then he will love them till the cows come home. His favorite things to do with his partner are cracking jokes, teasing, doing magic tricks, eating and exploring. He loves the attention and having his partner with him. Their smile and laugh is the very heart of his day. When it comes to sexual intimacy, he doesn't really care.

7). Ji-woon Hak

Some people might not agree with me on this one either, but whatever. I believe that Ji-woon would be a bit like Pyramid Head and view his partner as his soul mate. To him, they are the most precious, most beautiful and the most important jewel to him and he would do anything for them. Including giving up sex. There are other ways to enjoy time like teaching his partner how to play instruments or taking them on tour. Just as long as you're having fun, that's all that matters to him. He also loves attention and showing his partner off to the world. "Ha, jealous much? Look at my beautiful partner that you don't have!"

8). Carmina Mora

Carmina has been through a lot in life. She takes loss very seriously and will do anything to keep those closest to her safe. She also has insecurities and emotional issues, so risking bad behavior that would result in losing her partner is too great a risk. If she could find someone who was understanding, gentle and kind, and could accept her despite all her bad mistakes, I think she would be ever grateful to that person. I see Carmina as being more demi; needing that strong, emotional connection before ever doing anything intimate with her partner if that's what her partner wants. She's very loyal and caring, and will love her partner no matter what.

Fellow mentions I couldn't decide on (tell me what you think): Evan MacMillan, Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Max Thompson, and Rin Yamaoka.

[sentientcave]

Dogs Will Hunt (Slasher AU)

Honey It's Alright - Part 1

Read on AO3

Dark Fic! Please mind the warnings

Contains: Stalking, Allusion to past kidnapping, Canon-typical violence, Canon-atypical violence, dub con touching, implied dub con/non con, threats of death and violence, just general bad vibes, playing with my OCs like dolls and putting them in situations. Morgan is from Sparrow, and Kitty is from Wildflowers and Honey. This is not canon to their stories at all.

~7,500 words - MDNI

For the first time in ages, Morgan let herself relax, sitting at the kitchen table, slotting the pieces of her rifle back together, the comforting smell of gun grease heavy in the humid summer air. The windows were open to the night, and there was nothing but crickets out there, a shrill chorus in the background, the occasional chirping frog or whistling bird joining the twilight chorus.

She'd given John the slip-- If he was going to find her he would have by now. It had been months since she escaped his cellar (she'd been down there for weeks because of bad behaviour, and he'd gone hunting, leaving her alone with Soap and an opportunity), she'd dug the tracker out of her skin in Greece, zig-zagged across the continent leaving clues for him to chase down, and then stowed away on a shipping container headed to the states. She'd walked most of the way from the coast to her little house in Montana, where an identity totally removed from her old life waited for her. She was lucky she'd set that up as a fail-safe years ago. She only had three identities that maintained themselves so neatly, and Sarah and Blaire were both a little to close to John's house in Northern England to be comfortable. So she was Rebecca Carter now.

And it was nice. So much like home, and no one looked at her weird for carrying a rifle in the backseat of her truck. She found work when she got tired of pacing the cabin with nothing to do, helping repair a neighbour's tractor, and then a few cars, until everyone in town knew she was pretty handy with anything with an engine. It made her nervous, being so known, but there was nothing for it in a small town. Would’ve been more notable if she never spoke to anyone.

The crunch of gravel coming up the long lonely track that ended at her cabin set her heart hammering, the moment of relaxation gone, but she tried to calm herself down again when she peeked out the window, rifle at the ready, and saw that it was just Kitty driving up in her beat up silver Buick.

"Hey, Kit," she called out, stepping onto the porch, hiding her anxiety behind a big smile. "Car trouble?" The car was making a very unhappy grinding sound that stopped when the car did, although the engine still didn’t sound too healthy. Poor Kitty was running patch to patch with that stupid car, but Morgan was happy to help her out. Kitty was the sort of girl that had sorely needed a friend, and she’d attached herself to Morgan pretty quickly, despite her efforts to stay aloof.

She was too soft. Friends were liabilities these days, nothing but trouble. Another avenue for John to find her, if he was even still looking. He’d probably given up when the trail went cold. Even a bloodhound like him couldn’t search forever.

"Yeah! Could you take a look?" Kitty cut the engine and popped the hood, an apologetic look on her face as she climbed out of the driver's seat. "Sorry it's so late, I just got off my shift."

"Hey, no sweat honey. You know I'm never up to all that much."

Kitty was a pretty little thing, a hand-span shorter than Morgan, small boned like a bird, all soft curves and wide doe-like eyes peering out of her round face. Full of anxious energy most of the time, and especially now, nerves stretched thin after a long shift of avoiding grasping hands and smiling wide through it all. She bounced on her toes as Morgan leaned over the engine, watching. "Yeah. Owen said he asked you out. Why'd you say no?"

"Don't like him that much," Morgan said, shrugging. "Had my fill of men."

Kitty bit her lip, folding her hands behind her back. "Forever?" she asked.

Morgan braced her arms on the car, looking over. "Why do I feel like there's an ask attached to that question?"

"Well. Mason asked me out. He's got a friend workin' at the depot, Jack— I actually don’t know his last name— and he'd like to turn it into a double date. Think he knows I won't be so twitchy if you're there with me."

"When's this?"

"Tomorrow night, if you're free. Figured you would be, so I already said yes, but I can ask Mason not to bring his buddy if you can't. No pressure. Lord knows I owe you plenty already, can't ask for a favour."

"You don't owe me shit, Kitty. We're friends."

“Don’t have a lot of friends who do as much for me as you do,�� Kitty said, her expression turning sheepish. “You really don’t have to say yes. Just figured you might want to get out, meet somebody. It’s not good for a person to spend as much time alone as you do.”

“Already know everyone I’d like to. But I’ll come along, if you want me too. Promise to be nice and everything.”

Kitty laughed. “Everyone knows your bark is worse than your bite by now, Beck. It’ll be fun. Maybe Jack’ll turn out to be the one. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Morgan grunted noncommittally. “Probably won’t be. Think it’s one of the wheel bearings. Is the car shaking when you drive?”

Kitty nodded. “Yeah. Is that bad?”

“Well it’s not good. Let me get underneath and check it out. The jack’s in my truck.�� Morgan went inside to grab her keys and came back out, frowning. Kitty had already opened up the back door of the truck for her.

“Looks like you left it open,” she said. “I don’t even know why you bother to lock it, all the way out here.”

“I’m not keen on the idea of someone getting into my shit.” Morgan gently moved Kitty to the side and leaned in to grab the box of emergency supplies from under the back seat, her nose wrinkling. The cab smelled wrong, like tobacco smoke and cedar— Like John.

Dread settled into her stomach like lead. He’d found her. He’d been in her truck, probably been in her house— She dropped the box back in and scanned the trees surrounding the cabin, hunting for anything out of the ordinary.

“What’s the matter?” Kitty asked. “You’re all pale.”

“My ex has been here. He’s a sick fuck, Kit. I need to get out of town.” She looked at Kitty, the lead in her belly turning molten, hot with guilt and anger. What if she’d put Kitty in danger too? It was a mistake to have friends. A mistake to think John wouldn’t track her down. She should have kept moving, shouldn’t have let her guard down, should have just turned around somewhere and waited for him to catch up and killed him.

Her stomach churned. What if he’d been following her the whole time? What if he’d been in town as long as she had? “Kit, did you meet that Jack guy? He ever been to the diner?”

Kit nodded, her eyes wide as saucers. “Y-yeah, he’s a regular. Beck, you’re really freaking me out.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Um. Big. Handsome. Blue eyes, beard, a smile that’s all in his eyes. Um. He’s got a mole, or a freckle on his nose. He’s really nice though, Beck, he always tips well, and he’s never pawed at me.” Kitty scrubbed her hands on the polyester skirt of her uniform nervously. “And he’s been here almost as long as you have. And he’s English,” she added, as if that made it impossible for him to be John, rather than the nail in Morgan’s proverbial coffin.

Morgan swallowed acid. He’d been here for months, watching her let her guard down slowly, laughing at her, watching her get close to Kitty. “Fuck. That’s him.” Morgan grabbed Kitty’s hand and pulled her into the house. She locked the front door and closed the kitchen window. “Stay here a sec. I have to sweep the house.”

“Sweep?” Kitty asked blankly. “But…” She trailed off when she saw Morgan pick up the rifle. “Oh.”

Morgan checked all the rooms quickly, closing windows as she went, hunting for any sign of John. He wasn’t there, thank fucking god. She returned to the kitchen. “Kit, I’m leaving town tonight. I think you should come with me. If John’s been here this long, he might hurt you to get back at me. I don’t want that to happen.” She cupped Kitty’s face, hands trembling. “He’ll know how much I care about you.”

Kitty’s breath hitched, big brown eyes flicking between Morgan’s, like she was hunting for a sign it was a joke, or a lie. “You want me to come with you?”

“Please. I can’t let him hurt you, Kit. I’m going to pack a bag. You think about it. I can’t promise that you’ll be safer with me, but I can promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you alive.”

Kitty swallowed. “I’ll come with you,” she whispered. “Can— Can I get my things?”

“Yeah. Hopefully he thinks we’re still gonna show up for that date. Which’ll give us a good head start. We’ll drop by your apartment on the way out of town.” Morgan marched back to her room, Kitty close on her heels, and threw things into a bag, prioritizing dark, basic clothes and essentials. She pulled her shoulder harness on over her t-shirt and took her pistols from their hiding spots, checking both for tampering before sliding them into the holsters under her arms. She threw an oversized denim jacket on over top and zipped up the bag. “Let’s go.”

Kitty shook from nerves, but held herself together admirably, following Morgan out to the truck and sitting in the passenger seat as Morgan rifled through everything, searching for the tracker John had most certainly planted in the vehicle. Probably in anticipation of her fleeing their “date” the next day.

She found two, one tucked into the curling pages of the manual in the glovebox, and a magnetic one stuck under the back bumper. She stuck that one to Kitty’s car, and tossed the other one underneath it. Then she hopped into the driver’s seat and drove away from the place that had been home for months now, her heart twisting viciously in her chest.

In an instant, Becca became a stranger.

Beck was unshakable, cool and calm, detached. And then she wasn’t.

That someone could frighten her this much… It terrified Kitty. Made her sick to think that a favourite regular— a friend— was someone that would hurt Beck— That would hurt her to get at Beck. That she’d been smiling at him all this time, won over by the accent and the charm, the genuine interest in her sad little life. Those sincere blue eyes. He’d seemed so nice.

She held onto the corner of Becca’s jacket as she checked for intruders in Kitty’s apartment, and then packed a bag as quickly as she could, following Beck’s directions to pack practical clothes, to keep things light. That was easy. There wasn’t all that much in the place she cared about. The only sentimental items she took were the little photo album from her childhood and her jewellery box. She could sell things, if they needed the money. She wasn’t really sure what life on the run would entail. Wasn’t sure if she was up for it.

But she’d try. Better to try, and stay close to Beck. She’d said she’d protect her, and Kitty believed it.

They didn’t say much until they hit the highway, lights from the cars on the other side of the grass median zipping past, illuminating Becca’s face in flashes. She looked grim, serious as a soldier, determined. It was almost a surprise to hear her speak after so long.

“I’m sorry this happened, Kitty. I should have known to stay away from you. I was selfish, and I put you in danger.”

“Selfish?” Kitty echoed, guilt pooling in her guts. “You’re the furthest thing from selfish! Always doin’ things for other folks— Doin’ things for me that no one else would. You’ve been a better friend than anyone in that whole rotten town.”

“You just lost everything because of me,” Becca said.

“I’d do it again!” Kitty declared. She felt bold, unmoored, nothing to lose anymore. “I’d rather have you than anything I left behind.”

Becca’s hand curled around hers, resting on her leg. Kitty’s heart skipped several beats. “I just hope I haven’t made things worse for you. I won’t let him hurt you, I swear. But if— If I ever tell you to run, I want you to run, and don’t look back. If he catches me— Well. It won’t be good. I don’t know what he’ll do to me. I don’t want him to do it to you.”

Kitty swallowed hard. “Who— Who is he?”

“John Price. He’s a killer. We met at a bar near my hometown about two years ago. Northern Ontario. He was nice enough. Handsome, charming. Drugged me. Woke up in the middle of the woods, just me and him. Said he’d give me a half hour head start. He likes the chase. Likes to hunt.” Her face twisted with anger at the memory, but her voice was nearly robotic as she recounted it, as thought she’d locked away all the emotion to keep it from overwhelming her. “I got away. Was more familiar with the area, better than he thought I’d be at running and navigating through the woods. My parents used to have me run— Well, it doesn’t matter. It took me a week to get home. Had to hunt with my boot knife if I wanted to eat, couldn’t stop for long anywhere. It was exhausting. I guess he thought so too, because he gave up the chase, and ambushed me at home. Wasn’t careful enough. I’m usually so cautious, but I was too tired.”

Kitty squeezed her hand lightly. “I’m sorry, Beck.”

“It’s Morgan.”

“Huh?”

“Morgan’s my actual name. Figure you should know it.”

“Oh.” That stood to reason, didn’t it? She wouldn’t have been using her real name if she was hiding out. “What— What did he do to you?”

“Well, he didn’t kill me. I guess he decided I was worth keeping. That I was more fun alive than dead. He took me home with him. Decided he wanted to play house. It was play along or get locked in the cellar for days or weeks. Sometimes he wouldn’t turn the lights on and I’d just have to sit there in the dark, all alone until he came for me. It could have been worse more often, but it was usually the cellar. He didn’t want to hurt me, he wanted to break me.”

Kitty swallowed nervously. "He sounds awful. I can't believe he sat in my diner and acted so normal when he's… like that."

"Well that's the thing about John. When he's getting his way? He's downright pleasant. Didn't get nasty until I tried to run, or broke the rules, or failed a task on purpose. If I played housewife right he was… loving, almost. Some bastardized version of that. Indulgent. It was fucked up." Beck-- No, Morgan's other hand gripped the steering wheel tight. "I hate him. I've tried to kill him a hundred times by now. He just keeps beating me."

She sounded so defeated. Angry and scared. It felt so strange to see her scared, when she was usually so together, so much stronger than anyone else Kitty knew.

They didn't stop until dawn, to fill the truck with fuel and for Morgan to get a shit gas station coffee. Kitty had fallen asleep at some point. Morgan hadn't let her drive when she’d offered, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks, not just one night. The dark circles under her eyes were purple and puffy, but she shook her head again when Kitty offered to drive.

"I can go a little while longer. You get some more sleep."

"B-- Morgan. You've been driving all night. Let me help. You'll want to be sharp if he catches up to us." Kitty reached out and gently tugged the keys out of Morgan's hand. "We'll be better off if we take care of each other. It's not all on you."

Morgan relented. "Yeah. You wake me up if you see anything concerning. Stay on major roads, but just drive anywhere. If he’s following, we can lose him in the mountains for a day or two.” She sighed and leaned back in the seat while Kitty adjusted the one on the driver's side. "I'm sorry, Kit. This is so fucked."

"It's okay." Kitty steered the truck back onto the highway. "Not your fault."

"Yeah it is," Morgan grumbled, closing her eyes. "Maybe I shoulda stayed and fought. I don't know. Just hate that I've ruined your life."

“Didn’t have much of one to ruin. It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” Morgan turned toward the window with a sigh, cushioning her head from the glass with the palm of her hand.

In the silence, Kitty had nothing to do but think. About how little she really knew about Morgan, about how much she had misjudged Jack— Or John, really. She felt pretty stupid for thinking— for saying anything about her to him. Mistakes on mistakes.

She still trusted Morgan. She’d tried to be distant at the beginning of their friendship, tried to keep Kitty away. But Kitty had been so eager to make a new friend that she’d ignored all those attempts at deflection and inserted herself into Morgan’s life anyway. When she’d said that Kitty didn’t want shit to do with her, this was what she meant.

They spent three days like that. Morgan seemed to have no problem driving twenty hours straight, and wouldn’t let Kitty drive for more than four hours at a time. She was tense, wound tight, jumpy every time they had to stop for gas. She relaxed just a hair on the fourth night, and started driving more purposefully, taking them North through the mountains. She seemed to know exactly where they were, even though it was all windy mountain roads and forests, broken up by the occasional late.

Morgan cursed when they came to a road closure, forced to go around and detour from her planned route, but it didn’t really seem to slow her down any. They stopped at a gas station in some tiny mountain town early in the morning. Kitty was surprised to see Canadian flags flying from some of the houses they passed. Had they gone over a border while she was sleeping? Morgan parked off to the side so they could use the washroom and buy a handful of snacks and a map in case there were any more holdups.

Morgan stopped short, eyes turning sharp. A car had parked beside the truck, clearly too close for her comfort.

Kitty eyed the two men warily as they stood outside their car, smoking. She’d have to squeeze past the bigger fellow to get into the passenger seat again. Morgan spotted that too, and flashed them big smiles. “Any chance you boys are locals?” she asked, voice pitched higher, the slightest southern drawl colouring her voice. How did she become someone else so easily? “We got a bit turned around with that road closure, was wondering if you knew any shortcuts to Vancouver.” She unfolded the map on the hood of their car without waiting for an answer. Predictably, both of the men stepped in close on either side of her, not so subtly checking out her ass.

“Not locals, m’afraid,” the big one said. “But funny enough, that’s where we’re ‘eaded too.”

“Real tricky findin’ places to stop through here.” The other one was big too, but not as big, a baseball cap with the union jack set tilted back on his head and a wide, bright white smile on his face. He leaned on the hood of their car, his fingertips a little too close to Morgan’s hand. “Nearly went through all our cigs. Wouldn’t’ve been pretty’f we ran out before we got here. Si’s a real bear without his nicotine.”

Kitty took the opportunity to slip past to the passenger door, trying to calm her nerves. Just because they were English didn’t mean they had anything to do with John. Morgan folded her map back up, still smiling.

“Thought y’wanted ‘elp gettin’ there,” Si said, tilting his head to the side.

Morgan just tapped her now folded map against his chest playfully. “If you’re not locals, you’re not gonna know any shortcuts are you? You’ll just get me lost!”

“Might be fun, gettin’ a bit lost with us,” baseball hat said. Kitty didn’t much like the edge to his smile. But maybe she was just imagining it.

Morgan laughed. “You ever been lost in the mountains before, sugar? Wouldn’t recommend it. Ain’t that many roads that go anywhere worth goin’.” She bounced back a step, and kicked at loose bit of gravel. “But maybe we’ll see you in the city. We’re headed to the beach. Water’ll be cold, but it’s supposed to be pretty nice. Bet you’d both look pretty good with your shirts off.” She winked at baseball hat and gave them a little wave before circling back around to the drivers side and starting up the truck.

She peeled out of the parking lot, her smile falling away. “Pretty sure those are John’s boys. They’re not gonna be happy when they realize I dropped spikes in front of their tires.”

Kitty blinked. “You— Is that what you were doing?”

“That, and making sure the big guy didn’t grab you or slip a tracker on you. Once we get some distance out, I’ll have to re-check the outside of the truck too.”

Kitty let out a shaky breath. “How do you live like this?” she asked. “How do you know what to do, what to check?”

Morgan shrugged. “You get used to it.”

Kitty wasn’t sure how someone ever could.

After that, Morgan turned grim again, pushing to cover ground fast. The brush with those men had scared her too. She’d been driving all night, but she didn’t stop until the mountains were a ways behind them, and the countryside had turned flat, fields on either side of them filled with waving grasses and the occasional farm. Kitty insisted on taking over at their next stop. Morgan looked wrecked, the days of driving and poor sleep catching up with her. Kitty didn’t feel much better, but at least she’d gotten more rest.

"Where are we going?" she asked once they were on their way again.

"I know a place we can get a plane. Then I figure South America? Lots of places to disappear there." Morgan yawned, glancing in the mirror surreptitiously, as though she expected to see danger right on their tail. “Basically just drive straight down this highway. Not a lot of alternative routes around here. Wake me up in three hours, that’s about when we need to make a couple turns.”

Traffic slowed down to a crawl after two, so she tapped Morgan’s shoulder gently. “Sorry,” she said quietly. “I think the road’s closed up ahead.”

“Shit. No getting around it.” Morgan turned on the radio and flicked through stations until she found one that came in clear. “They’ll give a traffic update in a bit,” she said, blinking sleep out of her eyes. She came around fast, like she was used to waking up and moving quick. “We still inching forward every few minutes?”

Kitty nodded.

“They’ve prob’ly cleared a lane, be feeding folks through one side at a time. S’gonna suck, probably add three or four hours to the drive.”

“It’ll give you more time to sleep,” Kitty said.

They waited for the traffic report, grimacing at the details of it. Truck driver asleep at the wheel, veered into oncoming traffic and took out three cars. Only the truck driver and his passenger survived.

“Fuck, that’s a mess,” Morgan said grimly. “They need to regulate the industry better. That shit happens too often. Lots of drivers shouldn’t have a license, and the whole industry is overworked and pushed to get deliveries done in too short a time. S’fucked.”

Diplomatically, Kitty didn’t mention the fact that Morgan had been driving for sixteen hours straight herself. “There’s really no way around?”

“Might be, but that map I bought ended a good eighty kilometres ago. We’d better stay on this road or I’ll get us lost.” Morgan sighed. “We’re gonna lose our head start at this rate.”

“Already? He doesn’t know where we’re going, does he?”

“Doubt it. But I have to act like he’s right on my tail, because he usually is.” Morgan leaned her head back against the headrest with a sigh. “Let me get another hour of sleep, keep checking your mirrors, looking around. You see anything the slightest bit funny, wake me up again.”

Kitty nodded. “I will. Get some rest, Morgan.”

“What the fuck do you mean you rented out my plane?” Morgan snarled, resisting the urge to strangle the airfield manager, but only barely.

The portly, balding man with the name tag that said Tim Kent held his clipboard up defensively. “Look, we haven’t heard anything from you in over two years—”

“You still getting paid?”

“Well, y-yes,” Tim said nervously.

“Then why the fuck would you think that anything had changed?”

“Well, I— I um—”

“Forget it,” she snapped, holding up a hand. It was greed, and thinking he could get away with double dipping. She didn’t need him to say it. “When’s it back?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he said. “We’ll have it ready for you as soon as it comes back. There’s a motel, just down the highway— I know the owner, can get him to comp you a room, Ms. Winters.”

If it were just her, she'd sleep in the truck, with the doors locked and the keys in the ignition, ready to drive off at a moments notice. But Kitty-- Kitty needed a moment to collect herself, needed to shower, and sleep in a bed, and regroup. If Morgan had to sleep on the floor in front of the door with her rifle in her lap to make that happen, so be it.

"Yeah. Alright." It was against every instinct for survival she had. She knew that John wasn't far behind, if his boys had been that close. If they even were his boys. Maybe she'd fucked up the day of some totally innocent Brits on holiday.

It didn't matter. She'd just kill John if she saw him. Get it over with. No more fucking around. She couldn’t run forever. Kitty certainly couldn’t. It hadn’t even been a week, and Kitty was already nervous and stressed, on the verge of tears since their run in with the boys at the gas station. Morgan had been living like this periodically even before John.

She got the information for the motel, and about the two women who had rented the plane (two American women, which was a relief. Nothing to do with John, just an unfortunate coincidence), and headed back to the truck. Kitty was crying, and trying valiantly to pretend she wasn’t.

Morgan slid into her seat with a sigh. “Do you want to go home, Kit? I can take you back. I think that’s pretty much the only thing that would surprise him, at this point. I feel like he’s been a step ahead this whole time. Sent me running in a blind panic so he could set an ambush. I’m worried I’ve put you in more danger by asking you to come with me.”

Kitty shook her head furiously. “No! I want to stay with you. I don’t care if it’s dangerous.” She leaned across the middle seat and gripped the collar of Morgan’s jacket, pulling them together for a kiss.

Morgan tensed for a moment, surprise freezing her in place for a long moment. Suddenly, things made a lot more sense.

Kitty retreated quickly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. We can just forget it, I won’t do it again, I—” She halted mid sentence when Morgan reached out and brushed away the tears welling in her eyes again.

“Don’t be sorry. C’mere.” She gently held Kitty’s face and pressed a tentative kiss to her lips in return, tasting salt, humming when Kitty responded enthusiastically, lips parted and hands braced against Morgan’s thigh so she could leverage herself closer. For a minute, Morgan let herself forget that they were parked out in the open, that John was bound to catch up with them sooner rather than later, that they were far from safe, and that it was far from wise. She wanted to lose herself in that moment.

But good sense wouldn’t let her stay there for too long. “Come on. Lets go get something proper to eat. We’re stuck here till the morning. We’ll just have to keep an eye out.”

Morgan drove well out of the way to find a diner to eat dinner at, and watched the door the whole time, barely tasting her food. Kitty, at least, looked a little more settled with a proper meal in her, relaxing slightly even while Morgan twitched at every new patron coming through the door.

"What was he like when he wasn't— I mean— Was it all bad?"

Kitty's question surprised Morgan out of her vigilance, splitting her focus down the middle. It took a moment to figure out a response to that. “I sucked at following his rules. Fought him on everything. So I spent a lot more time getting punished than I did anything else.” She picked up a cold fry off her plate and dipped it in ketchup. “He wanted me to like him. I’m sure he could have been worse.”

Kitty nodded slowly. "What was he like when you did follow the rules?"

"A creep. Making me wear short little dresses without panties while I did housework, if he let me wear clothes at all. Letting me sleep in bed so he could feel me up. Asking if I was done being stubborn or if I was ready to ask for his cock. Fucking pervert." She tossed the fry into her mouth. "It was some kind of fucking game to him. He wanted me to beg for it."

"Oh," Kitty said in a small voice.

"I'm trying to spare you the details, Kit. He's got some ugly fucking demons in him, and it'll be better if we get far away."

"Y-yeah. Of course."

"You sure you don't want me turning the truck around? Could get you back home before—"

"No!" Kitty said quickly. "I'll stay. Just— um. Why didn't you go to the police?"

"I did. He had connections. They fucking delivered me back to him." She slumped back into her seat. “Let’s get out of here. Not safe to stay in one place too long. We’re risking enough with a motel stay.”

Not that she had any intention of staying at the one that Tim had suggested. It was just a red herring, something to hopefully draw attention if Tim was compromised while she found somewhere to stay an hour or two’s drive away.

She finally decided on one as the sun started setting, pulling into a half empty gravel lot. The place was dated, but that was fine. It didn’t need to be perfect. Just needed a door that locked and a bed with clean sheets.

The front desk was run by a bored looking girl in her late teens. She snapped her gum while she booked Morgan in on the ancient computer. She didn’t ask any questions, and she let Morgan pay cash, which was all she cared about.

She checked the room, paranoia winning over the more rational thought that she hadn’t known where they were staying until they got there, so John couldn’t have possibly set a trap for her, and Kitty hopped into the shower while Morgan flipped on the tv and scanned through channels listlessly.

— For a limited time only—

*— A community in chaos to— *

— Refreshing—

Wait. She flicked back to the news channel. A woman with a microphone standing in front of the smoking remains of a building, the unscathed sign at the edge of the parking lot reading Rosemary’s Diner. Red and blue flashing lights haloed her blonde hair, firefighters and police securing the area against the gathering crowd. “Crews are still recovering bodies from the ashes of this beloved local establishment. It is unclear what happened, or why none of the patrons were able to escape before the fire engulfed the building, but—”

Morgan’s head went fuzzy, her ears ringing as the noise from the tv scrambled as her brain tried to make sense of it. No on could escape because they were already dead. She’d killed them by walking into the place. This was her fault.

“Um, Morgan,” Kitty called from the bathroom. “There’s no towels.”

Morgan grimaced. She didn’t want them to separate for an instant. “I’ll go to the front desk and get some. Keep that door locked.”

The night time air was quiet and cool. She locked the door behind her— The place was so old that it had keys rather than cards. She wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or a liability. She was too rattled to think it over.

This shouldn’t have shaken her so much. She knew who John was. She knew how dangerous, how depraved he was. It just felt so… Unnecessary. Maybe it was just a message to her. That everywhere she went she’d endanger innocent people.

Morgan pushed the door open and walked into the front office of the motel, blinking in the bright fluorescent lights, frowning at the lack of sound. Hadn’t there been a bell over the door? The bored looking teen who had been there earlier was nowhere to be seen, and the scent of blood in the air hit her as she breathed in, thick, coppery, cloying. There was the bell, lying on the floor next to an expanding pool of red trickling out from behind the desk. This had just happened. Which meant--

"Hi, bonnie."

Morgan whirled around to face Soap, grimacing. He was the only one of John’s boys she'd met before, and she wished she hadn't. He’d been babysitting her when she’d escaped. He’d be eager to hand her back over to John and gain forgiveness for losing her in the first place. He wiped the bloody blade of his knife off on his shirt, blue eyes fixed on her, teeth bared in a feral sort of grin.

She grabbed the computer monitor off the desk and threw it at him, grabbing out a gun. Someone behind her grabbed her hand and yanked her hand up, sending her shot wild, shattering the window rather than blowing through Soap’s head like she intended. She yelped when another hand grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head backwards.

“Hey there, sugar.” That was one of the men from the mountain town gas station, the baseball hat one, if the sliver of blue in the upper periphery was any indication. Gaz, probably. He didn’t feel like a Ghost. “Why don’t you drop that gun?”

Morgan grabbed for her other gun, only just clearing the holster by the time Soap was on her, pinning her arm to her chest and leaning close, so that she was pressed tightly between their bodies.

Soap traced his thumb down her throat, fingers curled around her neck like he was dreaming of throttling the life out of her. He probably was. “No’ verrah sportin’ of ye, Morgan. Bringin’ guns to a knife fight.”

“You brought a friend, seems fair to me.”

“Ye would. Tricky little thing. Dinnae ken what Price sees in ye.”

“No?” Gaz pried the gun out of her hand and stowed it somewhere, his now freed hand coming around to cup her breast, lips trailing over her ear. “I can see a few things that he’d like.”

“Weel. There is tha’.”

Morgan kneed him hard, nailing him right above the knee. The angle wasn’t good for generating as much power as she would have liked, but it was effective enough.

He swore and yanked the other gun out of her hand, jamming it up under her chin. “Should jest kill ye now,” he growled. “Yer nothin’ but trouble.”

“You’re just upset because I lied about wanting to play with you,” she taunted. He’d let her out of the cage in the cellar, and wound up locked in there himself. “How long were you stuck in there, Soap? Did John let you out when he got home, or did he leave you in there a little longer to make sure puppy learned his lesson?”

“Mouthy for a brat with a gun to her head,” Gaz said, yanking on her hair again. “Should be beggin’ for forgiveness.”

“Pull the fucking trigger, you coward,” Morgan spat. “I’m not going to beg for my life. Just fucking kill me. Should be easy. You killed all those people at the diner.” She carefully reached for the knife on Soap’s belt, doing her best not to move too much. So long as they were paying more attention to her mouth, she could get it. “Fucking losers, picking off a bunch of seniors. You lose your nerve when you’ve got a fair fight on your hands? Can’t even take me without backup, huh Soap?”

His hold on her other wrist tightened, enough to make her bones creak. She tried not to grimace, but he saw the wince in her eyes, satisfaction flitting through his baby-blues. “Price said one piece, but he didna say I couldnae break a few fingers.”

“Soap,” Gaz said warningly. “Come on. Let’s just get her out of here.”

Soap lowered the gun. Morgan ripped the knife off his belt and stabbed it into Gaz’s leg, gripping tight so she wouldn’t lose it when he jerked back, letting go of her hair in surprise.

“Shit, get back here you little—” Gaz tried to grab her again, so she turned and slashed at him, cutting a thin slice through his shirt.

Soap grabbed her from behind, so she let him take her weight as she kicked Gaz hard in the gut, knocking all the air out of him. Morgan smashed her head back into Soap’s face as she lowered her legs, only stumbling a little when he let go to cradle his nose, blood pouring from between his fingers. She grabbed his shoulders and kneed him hard in the groin for good measure, shoving him to the ground.

She ran outside. The air reeked of gasoline, the signature cover for their sins. They'd burn the place down on the way out. She ran back to the room. The door was open, hanging off it's hinges, the darkness beyond yawning like an open mouth.

"Kitty?" she called out, stepping inside. She already knew she wouldn't be there. Or if she was…

Only silence. Kitty's bag was gone off the bed, but hers was still there. She grabbed it, nearly sobbing when she found it open, her rifle gone. No guns, no Kitty, just her and a couple of flimsy knives against John and his dogs.

"Lookin' for this, honey?" John melted out of the shadows by the door. It should have been impossible for a man as big as him to be so quiet, so invisible. He held her rifle loosely in his big hands, not even bothering to point it at her. He was entirely at ease, shoulders relaxed, head tipped slightly to the side as he looked at her, eyes glittering in the low light.

Morgan gripped her stolen knife tighter. "Where's Kitty?"

“Ghost has her. Put the knife down, sweetheart. Somethin’ happens to me, he’s gonna snap her pretty neck. Be easy too, little thing like her.” He took a step forward. “It’s time to come home. Nothing left for you out here.”

Morgan backed up a step. He was between her and the door. There were no other exits. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He had her cornered, defenceless, beaten again.

“Come on,” he said, holding out one hand, taking another slow step, like she was a wild animal he was trying to coax into domestication. That was probably how he saw her. “We don’t need to fight anymore, do we? I’ve missed you.”

“Have you?” she asked, acid roiling in her belly. “You were there that whole time— Six months! You knew! Why didn’t you just— Why’d you let me think I’d gotten away?”

Another step. “I was going to come get you early on, but I overheard Kitty talkin’ to one of the other girls at the diner about you. How you’d helped her fix her car up, how sweet you were, how smart, how strong. Poor girl was half in love with you before you’d been there a month. And I thought to myself, maybe that’s what a wild thing like you needs. A good girl to show you how to behave.”

He’d let her get close to Kitty just so he could use the poor girl against her. She’d tried to keep Kitty away, but she just kept coming back. A nudge from a well meaning regular might have convinced Kitty to ignore Morgan’s prickles, and that string of car troubles… Easily engineered by someone who knew enough about engines to make it look like it wasn’t sabotage. She’d been so so stupid. Should have just collected what she needed and moved on when she first got to Montana.

John tossed the gun onto the bed to free up his other hand as he moved past it. Morgan wondered if she could get past him, grab the gun, kill him, but—

“You ready to go, boss?” Gaz asked, his shadow filling the doorway.

John turned, carelessly turning his back on Morgan for a moment. She could jam her knife into his neck, grab the gun before John hit the ground, shoot Gaz— But Soap and Ghost were still out there somewhere, and they could hurt Kitty. Without John holding Soap’s leash, the maniac would do a lot worse than just kill them too.

“We’ll be along in a moment. Take her things.” He nodded toward the bed, then chuckled as Gaz limped over. One of his pant legs was dark with blood, a strip of fabric tied around where she’d stabbed him to put some pressure on the wound. “She got you, huh?”

“Got Soap too. Broke his nose.”

John shook his head. “Told you not to underestimate her.”

Gaz shouldered the bag and picked up the rifle. “You’re the one with your back turned to her.”

“She knows better than to try it. Isn’t that right? You’re ready to be good, aren’t you?” He turned back toward Morgan, a smug smile tugging on his lips. “You can start by giving me the knife, princess.”

She stared at his open palm, extended trustingly toward her, like he knew she wouldn’t bite back now. She hated him. Wanted nothing more than sink the blade into his hand, into any soft bit of skin she could reach. She wanted to be free of him more than she wanted to continue breathing.

But they had Kitty.

It felt like driving the final nail into her own coffin, sealing her fate, but she she dropped the knife into his hand, shaking with rage. “I hate you,” she hissed, the scratchy whisper all she could force out from a locked up throat.

He tucked the knife into his belt and closed the remaining space between them, tipping her face up so she couldn’t avoid those piercing blue eyes. “Oh sweetheart, you know that’s not true. If you’ll just be good, we can be happy. You just have to stop fighting me, hm? For Kitty’s sake.”

“Just— Just let her go. Please. I’ll be good.”

“Of course you will.” He thumbed across her cheek, wiping away tears she was desperately trying not to shed. “But I’m keeping you both.” He kissed her forehead, moustache prickling against her skin, and released her.

Morgan stood where she was for a long moment, feet rooted to the faded, stained motel carpet, as John walked away. Usually, he’d cuff her and cart her off, growling admonishments all the way home.

He looked back from the doorway, realizing that she wasn’t following. And of course, he wanted her to come of her own accord, to bow her head and admit defeat and follow him like a dog. He wanted her to choose to be with him.

“Come on, pet. It’s time to go home.”

Haltingly, she willed her feet to move, and she followed him.

Image Credit - Dividers by @/CafeKitsune

If you liked this, check out these stories:

Slasher Handler by Dragonnarrative-writes

Siphon and Keeping House by Syoddeye

Gentle Chokeholds by CharlieMWrites

Nobody by 391780

Please mind the warnings on each of the fics above, the warnings and intensities do vary a lot!

Thanks for Reading!

[evilvvithin]

it's kinda funny but the more i see the mainstream slasher media the more I appreciate our "indie-slasher" boys

[the-s1lly-corner]

Slasher: babe I hear the ice cream truck

Reader: *sighs* go get my wallet

[syncast-err0r]

kio & kio (cursed)

— note: read my bio before following !

[lady-villain-imagines]

Tell Me I’m The Best

Tomie x wlw!Reader Drabble

I just want her y’know. Y’know?

TW for probably unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessiveness and jealousy. NSFW implied

You were sprawled in a stupidly large, comfortable bed, fluffy comforters almost devouring you. Music played softly over a radio placed on a dresser across the room, along with the soft hum of the bedrooms overhead fan slowly whirling in steady circles. The room was a mess, clothing and makeup haphazardly laying around. Several juicy gossip column magazines had been thrown around here and there. You had one such magazine in your hands, lazily reading the salacious dramatized versions of the latest love lives of the rich and famous.

You were in the room of your… well. It was hard to describe what you were. Girlfriend didn’t sound right, and lover sounded stupid. Situationship, maybe? Friends with benefits except you don’t see anyone else? There wasn’t a name for being gal pals with a creature who regularly twisted men to her will, driving them mad with desire and in turn often getting herself maimed in horrific ways.

She was a monster, countless murders were because of her. What she even was was never spoken about. You weren’t sure if even Tomie knew. You knew there were… others of her. She had been very displeased in disclosing that, as if you would run off to find another Tomie. Of course there wasn’t a chance you would ever do something stupid like that. For whatever reason she decided you would be who she let hold her at night when she was so sought after, you counted yourself as the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. Not saying she didn’t have her ‘quirks’.

“You’re really reading that when I’m standing right here?” A shrill voice broke the lull, sharp and commanding. Lowering the magazine to look at the source, the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen was standing at the end of the bed with her hands on her hips. There she was… Tomie. The girl of everyone’s dreams. And boy, did she look pissed.

Her perfect face scrunched up as she glared down at you. You just stared at her for a moment before using your quick thinking to deduce why she was mad (this time). Ah, of course…you hadn’t watched her the second she came back into the room and dared to look elsewhere.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to read now.” You responded sarcastically, clearly not phased by her attitude. You were used to it.

“You should be sorry. I’m standing here before you, and you don’t even look up? You’d rather have your nose buried in a stupid magazine?” She responded with a huff and a roll of her eyes. You bit back telling her it was her stupid magazine in the first place, “What could be so interesting, huh?”

After that, you were jostled as she flopped into the blankets next to you. You laughed as she had to shimmy & roll a bit to get over to you. She was wearing comfortable clothes, a simple tank top and shorts that showed off her pristine skin. It was always a wonder to you how she had no scars despite the wounds you had seen her with. She has no obvious marks on her skin besides the beauty mark near her eye. God, you loved that beauty mark. You loved all of her.

Tomie looked disdainfully at the trashy magazine before snaking her way into your arms, head on your chest as she got into a position so she could read with you as you held the magazine out for the both of you. She was cold, her hand resting on your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. You didn’t know if she did it on purpose, but she gently let the tips of her fingers slide under your shirt, just enough to rest her whole palm over your lower stomach. It gave you butterflies.

The two of you read through the magazines pages, laughing and gasping appropriately at the drama. You would both make comments (hers far crueler than yours) about people’s outfits. When it came to a page of particularly beautiful women in a fashion show, you feel Tomie’s eyes slide to you. This was definitely a test and you passed by quickly turning the page. Regardless, Tomie was tired of sharing your attention with the pictured women and she took the magazine out of your hands, propping herself up on her elbow besides you. She tossed it to join all of the other discarded items on the floor.

“Enough of those cheap girls. You don’t need to look at them when I’m here.” She was right. You looked over at her, opening up your arms a bit more to invite her further into your space. She leaned forwards, lips brushing yours. Her lipgloss smelled like cherries, her silky hair spilling towards you. Everything about her was intoxicating.

Your lips pressed into hers and she immediately sprung her trap. Sitting up, she pressed her palms against your shoulders to pin you to the mattress as she pulled away from the all too short kiss. Slinging her leg over your body, she sat on your stomach. It was a little uncomfortable but you were certainly not going to complain. After she was in position, she looked down at you triumphantly. If she was a spider, you were a willing fly walking into her web.

“There we go. Now you’re looking at me, as you should be.” Her manicured nails gently caressed your face as you were looking up at her in clear admiration. “Well? Are you going to say something or just stare at me?”

“What can I say besides what you already know?” That was a rhetorical question. You knew damn well she wanted to - needed to - hear you shower her in compliments. “That you’re gorgeous? More stunning than any of those girls in that magazine.. no, in any magazine.”

In response, Tomie hummed on top of you, her nails now grazing down your throat to run over your collar bone. It was also not missed how she lowered herself more onto you, giving a slight grind against you. That was encouragement if you’d ever had any.

“I’m so lucky to be here with you. You make my life as beautiful as you are.” You gently placed your hands on the sides of her thighs lovingly. Her lip twitched, her expression shifting minutely. She struggled hearing actual romantic sentiments. Being treated like a person and not an object of someone’s crazed obsession was a new experience she was trying to cope with. You tried to continue the sincere sweet talking,

“I mean it…I’ve never been with a girl like you-“

At the mention of other girls you had dated she snapped her hands down next to your head and got close to your face with her eyes hysterical. It had been blindingly fast, and the face she wore was chilling in an uncanny way, like it was something trying to be human but let it slip for a minute. It was small reminders like this that wouldn’t let you forget she was not human, not in the slightest.

“Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had.” Her eyes were practically pinpricks as she bore them into yours. You shivered at the intensity of it, knowing the dangers of the woman pinning you down.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

After your breathless response, she dove onto you in an aggressive kiss. Her hands had practically morphed to claws as she grasped the sides of your face, sliding up to your hair as she caught your lip in her teeth, looking you in the eyes with that same crazed gaze. You winced as blood broke the surface of your soft lip, her blunt teeth breaking the skin with ease. She slid her tongue over your lip, unabashedly tasting your blood. Letting out a soft groan, her hands tightened again before she was forcing your mouth open with her possessive tongue now rolling around yours. Grinding down onto your hips, she was much stronger than she looked. You were both getting worked up, your hands clutching her soft thighs now. Tomie unlatched herself from your face, still keeping pressure on your hips.

“Good girl. Of course I am.” She smiled proudly, smugness rolling off of her. The iron taste in your mouth of your own blood lingered as she swiped a finger over your ripped open bottom lip. She collected your blood on it & had the gall to look down at you with disgust like it was your fault. “Gross. Bleeding everywhere like that.” Despite that, she licked it off her finger anyways.

Even with her weight leaning on you, and you clearly trying to grind against her as well, she just sat there for a moment looking down at you. Her hair was perfect still, not a strand out of place.

“You’re the best I’ve had, too.” Tomie admitted. It was a rare genuine moment from her. Without letting you process that one (AKA say more sappy shit that made her feel something) she leaned forwards again to lock her intense eyes with you. She smiled and it was off, a little too smooth, too wide, to be normal. It morphed into a wolfish grin as her breath brushed against your mouth.

“And I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.”

[mothratzz]

Happy valentine's 💕🩸⛏️🩸🔪🩸💕

Go watch scary movies full of gore with your special buddy❣️

[respectthepetty]

seems like non has to have survived somehow because why are they seeing the masked figure with a crutch? and why did the masked figure grope tee? keng seems legit dead and sold for organs so who else could it be if not non?

Anon, I've stated this multiple times before but telenovelas and Romeo & Juliet have taught me it ain't over until it's over. I have thought that Tan was going to fake his death with the inhaler, and knowing he has been experimenting with drugs made me more excited for the possibility. But now, I'm staring at a dead body that I don't want to believe is dead, and Shakespeare's Juliet, Pit Babe's Charlie, and Sammon's Tan and Bun are looking me right in the face saying "the best way to get someone out is by killing them!"

DO YOU SEE THE VISION?!

Yes, the guys are hallucinating. Yes, the smoke is causing it. But why do they keep seeing crutches?! That's odd!

Phi and Jin heard a car starting when they were at the temple, yet everyone was accounted for, so SOMEONE ELSE IS OUT THERE!

We still have that missing second driver who knows his way around the woods at night and who got held up by the tree in the way but was that a lie?!

The axe just conveniently laying in the temple is strange.

The trees being cut up differently when Jin and Phi were roaming around the woods is weird.

Phi assumed Tan did several of these things, but we know Tan couldn't have done everything Phi accused him of.

And why would we see Perth take this call?

Nothing in this show has been unimportant. Everything we have seen has a reason, so to waste precious time on Perth telling Tee he was leaving after taking this call has to mean something, right? Was it just to show us how much Perth cares about his off-time, so when he stays an extra hour for Tee, it's meaningful?

NO!

The uncle died under mysterious circumstances, and even though I don't need to know how, it's still important that the death wasn't natural.

Because the plot is plotting and someone else is out there killing these people!

And I want it to be Non!

I know believing Non is still alive is a stretch, but even if it isn't Non, someone else is out there, and we've already met all the players, so it's someone we know. There are only so many players left on the board, so who is that hidden character?

Keng is dead. Amen.

As much as I totally and completely ship Fluke x Tan (shut up! leave me alone! it makes sense in my head), I know the doctor isn't helping the biochemist with this.

So if Non really is dead, that leaves White or Perth, and neither one of them would need crutches, and White seems to be having his own little crisis in the finale. The only person who would need crutches is the person who was already limping!

NON IS ALIVE!

He was limping from exhaustion and getting beat for over two weeks, so it would only take a little belladonna in his system for him to die or at least appear to die.

I've always believed there were two killers since the first episode, and I thought they were Tan and Phi, but Phi has ethics or whatever bullshit high horse he is on, yet that doesn't change my mind - There are two killers!

So, once again, Non is either alive or Tan is really the A+ student he has proven to be and got another partner.

LET'S GO, FINALE!

[cobwebs-in-autumn]

Slasher!Price holding a knife to your throat, making you beg for him to cum inside you, making you beg for a baby from the man who killed your friends, as you cry and sniffle beneath him, stretched full of his thick cock.

[smuthospital]

⭐️Degrees of lewdly: Eden⭐️

Premise: You're a spooky place youtube explorer, and you get lost in a big scary forest! Eden voorhees lol. Reader is fem. Enjoy!

Art by Minagami

Re-upload because tumblr took it down last time.

Content Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, tummy bulge, blood, Eden is Jason, Voorhees

Miners DNI

You've never really gone hiking before and it's proven itself to be a lot more difficult than you originally thought it would be. You like to explore places you've never been, spooky places. more for the thrill. you started filming it and posting your videos on youtube. You usually take some friends along, but all of your friends decided to be little babies this time since the place you're exploring is extra creepy this time. It's a large forest 20 miles away from your city. You borrowed your mom's car to get here. you always tell them you're at a friend's house because they'd kill you if they ever found out you're putting yourself in possibly harmful situations. This forest is known for creepy sightings, disappearances, ghosts, and lots of other things your viewers would love to watch. You've been to abandoned hospitals, cemeteries, tunnels, all that good stuff. You don't think you'll actually see anything, but you brought a can of pepper spray just in case.

The wind howls, making the trees dance above you. The shapes that were once branches in the day have turned into long gangly fingers that desperately reach for you and the bushes now house entities with red eyes and fangs that you imagine want to tear you to pieces! "Wow, guys. This might just be the scariest one yet, haha. There's probably some sort of scp in here with me haha!" You try to keep yourself company by talking to your soon-to-be viewers when you post this, but it's really just to keep you calm.

"I'm a bit lost. The trail kinda disappeared somewhere around here, I think. there's just so much long grass and it's more of a footpath than an actual trail." you complain as you try to spot any familiar landmarks. It's almost impossible. It might be easier in the day for sure, but the night masks everything. You step over decayed logs and large roots, feeling worry set in. What if you're really lost!? Your thoughts come to an abrupt stop when you hear a strange sound not too far from where you're standing. Your blood freezes as you feel a cold sweat coming on. Maybe...maybe it's a person? And maybe they can help you?..or..a monster!? No, (Y/n), this is no time to be silly! That could be a person willing to help you before you get yourself completely lost!

Little did you know you were already a mile deep, walking in the wrong direction.

“I heard a sound. It could be someone who could help me get back on track.” You whisper. You turn off your video camera's flash light and carefully make your way to where you heard the sound, being careful not to step on anything that could alert whatever it is of your presence. You don’t want to startle it, just in case it's an animal willing to protect its territory from invaders like yourself. The sound came from below you. There's a rocky slope leading down to a river. You get down on your knees and peer between the long grass. You can't make out much in the dim moonlight... until you spot a giant of a man dragging a sack through the shallow water. His size alone sends shivers down your spine. Even from where you're crouching, you could tell he would dwarf you the way a cat would to a mouse. You examine him a bit more.The sack is stained in a dark colour that is seeping through the fabric and into the water. You don't dare move a muscle or even breathe. You can't believe your eyes. This can't be real. Are you in a horror movie?

You make sure he disappears behind the tree line with the mysterious sack before letting out a breath. You didn't want to accidentally alert him of your presence in any shape or form. He was probably just a hunter. Yeah, he could have helped you, but he also could have added you to the wet sack and you were not risking that.

You stand up and turn around, ready to get as far away from here as possible, only to bump your nose into a tree. The collision causes you to drop your camera. That's strange. You don't remember walking around a tree to look over the cliff. You rub your nose in annoyance. Wait a minute... This tree didn't have rough bark like the rest of them...Your brain blanks out. You've been in denial this entire time, your brain working extra hard to rationalize what's happening. Before you is a large torso. You can't even see their shoulders from how close you're standing, just a wide, firm chest. You crane your neck up and it takes you a good three seconds before your brain registers that you're looking at the man from before..and he's wearing a mask!

He looks down at you with a focused gaze. You let out a short scream and try to run away, but being within arm's reach of the giant makes it too easy for him to simply reach out and grab the back of your top. He lifts you off your feet with one arm and brings you to his eye level. He cocks his head to the side, observing you slowly. He looks down at the camera you dropped and places his large boot on it, pressing down and crushing it. You start to hyperventilate. He's gonna chop you up and wear your skin, he's gonna keep you in a dark hole and shout "It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" You thrash in his iron grip, pushing at his large hand and sobbing untellable pleas for mercy, but your begging falls on deaf ears. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'll leave, I promise! Please let me go! I-I didn't mean to bother you, I'm sorry!" You cry. Your little struggle seems to have made your shirt ride up a bit, showcasing your supple flesh to his thirsty eyes. His eyes laser focus on your bare skin.

To your confusion, his hand reaches to caress your skin, feeling the smooth texture before slowly moving up. You wiggle more, scared of where this is going. His hand soon finds your breast and cups it before giving it a squeeze. He shudders. His breathing becomes heavier as he continues to mess with your body, his thumb rolling over your nipple. All you can do is whimper and wiggle in his hold. his hand begins sliding down and you scream. You suddenly remember you brought a can of pepper spray, whipping it out of your back pocket and pointing it at his face. Then as you were about to press down and unleash the fire juice, it was gone. In his hand that was previously molesting you lies the remains of your poor pepper spray, crushed and bubbling pathetically. He was so fast you hadn't even realized he snatched it. You just stare at him in horror. To your surprise, he's not even mad, too preoccupied with the need to explore your privates. You hold his wrist and look into his eyes. He looks back into yours as if telling you to stop. You hesitantly let go, and he nods as if to tell you that you've made the right decision. His hand cups your pussy through your jeans, pressing in a bit at the entrance. He seems eager.

He lifts you higher and uncomfortably sets you on his shoulder, his hand on your ass to keep you in place. You don't even bother struggling. You'll wait for an opportunity. If this man wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You don't want to provoke him. From your spot on his shoulder, You notice that he's got a hunting rifle strapped to his back along with a machete. He has an assortment of things attached to his hips among them being a hunting knife and bullet pocket. You shiver. One more off-putting thing that's just about forcing bile up your throat is that he's also covered in a dark wet liquid. You haven't noticed till now, but you haven't been breathing so his smell has now come to your attention. He smells strongly of iron. To that, you're not very surprised.

He starts marching down the hill you were previously watching him from. You have no idea how you saw him disappear through the treeline and he still managed to sneak up on you. He picks up the large stained sack where he left it in favor of locating his little spying mouse. It smells awful, the meaty smell assaulting your senses every second. It's been 15 minutes and an opportunity to escape has not shown itself. This is it. This is how you die. Your body will never be found. Maybe in a few years in a shallow grave by some hiker if you're lucky. This inhuman mass of muscle is going to cut you up and eat you. Maybe even skip cutting you up. He could probably eat you whole as pre-workout. He lifts his leg to step over a large log, his grip on your ass slightly loosening just enough for you to catch him off guard and slip off his shoulder. You grunt as you fall into the dirt and leaves behind him. You scramble up before the giant can scoop you up. You run in a random direction. You just needed to get away from him, getting out of the forest was a problem for later. You didn't even think about how fast he'd be. How could someone be so big and fast!? He took off after you and suddenly, he was on your ass. You've never felt such a primal fear as he chased you like a hungry animal.

A large hand grabs your shoulder and rips you backwards. You fall on your back and stare up at the man now on his knees in front of you, his body completely casting a shadow before yours. He gets down on his hands, caging you too the ground, his body inches above yours. You stare into the holes of his mask and into his rabid eyes. He leans in by your neck. You stop breathing once again, you think your heart stopped. You feel something large and hard pressing roughly into your crotch. You hear him take a deep breath and smell you..."Smells nice." His voice is deep and rough, but it sounds like he rarely uses it. You scream and begin to cry again, not being able to take it anymore. You fight him with all your might. He grabs your wrists with one hand. You hear him chuckle a bit before his hand comes up to cup your check. He suddenly squeezes it and twists your face around to get a better look at your features. He grinds his hips against yours, teasing you of what's to come. He roughly releases your face, before standing to his full height and dragging you up with him. He tosses you back over his shoulder, this time with an almost bone-crushing grip. “Name.” His tone is commanding. When you fail to answer right away, his fingers press into the area on your crotch. Threatening to rip right through. “(Y/n)! My name is (Y/n)!” He hums in response.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as he walks back over to where he left his murder mystery sack. He navigates through the forest as he knows it like the back of his hand until he comes upon a clearing where his home stands. A lonely wooden cabin. He drops the gooey meat bag on the ground. You cringe at the wet sound it makes on impact. You peer over at the sack to see a human hand flop out. Before you could react, he slams his hand over your mouth painfully. "Shut up." He waits for you to nod before removing his hand. He opens his front door and steps inside. It smells musty, like old wood and man smell. Not bad, but not amazing either. He walks up his stairs and sets you on a very large bed. You take a deep breath in, your stomach sore from being jabbed by his shoulder for the entirety of the long walk.

He doesn't let you get comfortable though. His hands are on you in an instant, grabbing your clothes and ripping them to shreds like tissue paper, you're naked before you could even hold any of your clothes together. Hungry eyes leer over you through his mask. You feel his hot breath fan you through the bottom of his mask. "S-stop it, please! Don't hurt me!" You beg. As if to mock your plea, his rough hand grips your plush thigh a little too close to your cunt and squeezes it tightly before shoving it against your chest, making room for himself between them.

He releases you for a moment, only to unzip his uncomfortably tight pants. You shut your eyes and look away, only to feel the soul-crushing weight of his cock slam against your lower stomach. You writhe underneath him, small sobs and hiccups coming from your mouth every few seconds. He pauses for a moment but ultimately decides to continue. You peer up between your wet palms and see him rubbing the tree trunk between his thighs while looking down at your pathetic form.

"W-wait! I-I'm not rea-" He grabs your thighs and forces you closer to him and lines his cock up with your entrance, he slides it up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. He doesn't care if you're ready or not. You shut your eyes as he presses forth. You scream in pain. It won't go in. You're too tight, he's too big and you're dry. The tip can't even get through. You whimper in pain. It burns. You need moisture. He lifts his mask a bit and you get a peek of his jaw. It's noticeably sharp and covered in stubble. You feel his saliva plap against your poor dry cunt before he puts his mask back into place. He tries to enter you again. You yelp. He gets a bit through before he can't anymore. He sighs. He was trying to be gentle. He didn't want to break you so quickly...

He grips your thighs tightly. You feel his nails dig in. You barely have time to register the pain before you feel like you're being ripped in two. He's forcing his way in. You immediately let out a scream and begin spazzing. He just continues until he reaches his base, more than snug against your insides. Drool leaks past the corner of your lip as you stare off into space. He breathes heavily and stares at the bulge he created in your lower stomach. He brushes his hand over it and watches as you whimper and twitch. He pulls his hips back and watches it disappear before ramming himself in again and seeing it jab through your insides. He chuckles.

You lay there, unable to do anything but feel what he's doing to you. You lift your arm and place it on his lower stomach, hoping to stop him that way. You feel his rock-hard abs through his shirt and push. "You're...adorable...fuck.. you're tight." He groans before he slams himself deep inside and you clench around him. He hisses and struggles to pull out halfway, your insides trying to pull him back in. He slams in again and presses himself as deeply as he can, firmly hugging your cervix with his cock. Your eyes cross as he thrusts in and out, keeping a proper pace. Moans spill from your lips along with jumbled-up words he can't make out, all of which sound like music to his ears.

He leans over you, forcing himself snugly against you again, his mask right next to your cheek. He groans as he feels you twitch around him. "Feel..so good... was worried you'd rip... you're only bleeding a little." You can hear the smug grin in his tone.

It feels so good. You're so ashamed, feeling good when you're being raped by a maniac. You clench your tear-filled eyes as he pounds into your aching cunt. The knot in your lower stomach bursts as you cum. He moans as you tighten around him. He stills for a second, just enjoying how you feel before he pounds into you like a feral beast. You're surprised your pelvis is holding up. He grips your waist tight and grunts as he empties his balls deep inside you. You can almost feel yourself getting pregnant. You feel too full. Your stomach bloats with cum. You feel hot and fuzzy. Your pussy is so very sore and your legs are numb. He pants above you. "I've been thinking of getting myself a little wife like you." He says as he slowly pulls his still throbbing cock out with a wet 'pop'. "You're a pretty little thing and you take my cock well. Be grateful I'm letting you live as my cock sleeve." He stands up, towering over your crumpled body once again. "My name is Eden. Your duties from now on are cooking, cleaning, mending my clothes and taking my seed. Do not make me repeat these orders. Object and I won't hesitate to remind you of your place. I was gentle this time." His giant cock is still dripping your juices. You can't stop looking at it. Ge takes notice and climbs over you before grabbing your head and forcing you close to his groin. "I see you love cock. Lick it clean then like a good wife. go on."

You look up at him and hesitate a bit too long. You see anger flash in his eyes and you quickly envelop his tip in your mouth. He groans as you lick your mixed juices off, going as deep as you can without choking. He moans and grabs the back of your head. He stares down at you with such intensity that you can feel him burning holes into you. You suddenly feel your throat being invaded and your nose pressing into his pubic hair, nose pressing into his crotch. He moves you back and forth, face fucking you. You struggle to breathe properly through your nose. You let out muffled whimpers and cries, sending vibrations through his cock. He grunts in pleasure before you feel a load of hot thick liquid being shot into your mouth and down your throat. You're so tired. He slowly pulls his cock back and laughs at your exhausted state. Your head flops back onto the bed, your jaw and lips so incredibly sore and raw feeling. "Good girl." He says before your sight fades to black. You explored a bit too much.

[g0thic-ghost]

NSFW Alphabet :: Billy Lenz

This is my very first NSFW Alphabet, so.. It’s not as great as you (all), expect! Even so, I do accept critique! Anyways, please enjoy and if (somehow) you like this writing you could request a similar one for another Slasher! Warning ⚠️ : Not proof read.

REQUESTS : OPEN

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Billy, he isn’t both bad or good and his aftercare isn’t heaven or hell, it’s more in the middle of all things. Billy will usually finish up by looking down at you and taking in the sight from how he left you all messy, giggling and murmuring stuff.. “OH! Piggy is so cute.. so cute!”, “Dirty piggy!”, etc. But, soon enough he will give you some more love by crawling up to you and giving you sloppy kisses down your body, covering you up with a blanket (or his sweater, if you’re lucky enough). And peer away to his hiding spot, leaving you curled up in a ball in a blanket while panting over the amount of ‘activities’ you had done with Billy. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Billy knows what he likes about himself and that is his mouth and hands, from how he’s able to venture his tongue up and down your neck, collarbone, chest, stomach and much more. And his hands because of how he loves squeezing and kneading on your so so soft skin.. What he likes about you is your legs, mostly it being your thighs. From how easy they are to grab and from it’s satisfying squeeze (He goes crazy over the clapping sound they make when he’s having ‘moments’ with you).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Billy is a messy boy, nasty even! So he tends to cum anywhere he can reach from the position he is in.. When he is behind you with you head buried in the sheets of the bed, he will cum right on your back and run his hand up and down the white liquid, messing with it while mumbling gruesome things. If he’s on-top and facing you, once he’s close he’ll quickly pull out of you and crawl up to you. Cumming right on your face, (He loves the way you gasp in shock from the amount he lets out on your face, and how you quickly turn a flush red).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Billy has a lot of dirty secrets to keep in, but his most deepest darkest one is that he loves to steal your clothes. His favorite piece of clothe to steal from you being your underwear, especially your recent worn ones.. He can’t help but love the scent you leave off on them, and that soon results into him hiding somewhere and humping against them and moaning you name.. “Ooohhh! Y/N.. Y/N!  M-my.. Little piggy!”.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Billy knows a whole lot of how to have sex, or how it’s done. But when it comes to he himself actually doing it, he Is out of pace and overall messy with everything from how he’s never experienced such things. But, he still makes his way into doing it, just that you will have to teach him how to do everything well and right.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Billy Isn’t picky with the positions you two get in, he loves anything that involves him being able to feel your body close and have himself deep inside you.. Though, he is a fan of such positions as ; Doggy style, Cowgirl, “Grasshopper” and or “Spooning”. 

 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Billy is serious, in his own way.. He is heavily concentrated on how your body looks and how it reacts to everything he does and he always comments something on it. Which sometimes ends up making you laugh from how he says it or the overall wording he says it in.. “Aaah! My dirty piggy is so precious!” .. ‘pfft- .. Dirty Piggy?’ . But he’s still loving and serious in the situation, even if you think he isn’t.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Billy is almost always in his hiding spots and never goes down until you call him for something important or when you are in the mood, meaning he never dares to get our and ‘waste his time’ shaving himself up. So, he has a quite messy ‘carpet’ and there is slight patches going up his stomach. His hair down ‘there’ is a bit more darker then the actual hair on his head..

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Billy is intimate and loving, yes. Though, in his own way.. He shows his love to you by what he’s doing to you in the moment by thrusting into you, but if he sees you want more he will do so (if he really wants to, that is). He will lean into you and give you hard bites that drool follows through, lick up and down your body. Give you spit-filled kisses and maybe even tell you he loves having sex with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Billy is very sexually active, well.. With you! He wouldn’t dare to leave his ‘dear piggy’. But when it comes to him being alone with himself he tends to touch himself quite a lot by just a small thought of you or even peering at you through a hole in the wall (or something) and staring right at you while he touches himself.. Sometimes, he will use your underwear and give it some sniffs while he strokes himself in a sloppy and fast manner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves anything that involves him using his mouth, hands or hearing you moan and beg for him.. Not only that but even cry from how much he teases you, so he has quite ‘unique’ kinks such as ; Anilingus/Cunnilingus, Gagging kink, Mommy kink, Distracted sex and has a loving for Somnophilia. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Billy is not picky, as said.. He loves anything that involves him being able to touch your body and be deep inside you, so he would do it anywhere with you.. In the kitchen, pressed against the counter? He’ll wrap his arms around your hips and pull you close, humping himself against you while you work on some food. On the couch focused on a book, he will open up your legs and work on your pants until he gets them off and will start to ram himself into you. He will do it anywhere! 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Billy is easy to turn on, just by thinking of you or imagining your face just makes drool start to form In the corners of his mouth and a slight bulge grow in his pants. But when it comes to actual contact to contact with you, seeing you tired unusually turns him on.. Your sleepy eyes that can barely hold themselves up, your soft yawns, soft and slow breathing coming to you once you start to fall asleep. He loves it! (Explaining the somnophilia).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Billy hates anything that involves him having to ‘give you away’ to another person and or even having to watch you have sex with someone else, he’s scared that once that ever happens it will keep happening. So, if you ever come up with a threesome.. ‘Hey Billy? .. I was thinking about trying something different, like.. A threeso-‘ , “No! no.. No no no! Piggy only belongs to me! Billy!” He will yell and scream, as he grabs you tightly and quickly wraps his body around yours. “Billy.. Billy is good!” He will say as he starts to claw at his clothes so he could show you that you don’t need two people for pleasure, that him alone is enough.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves to receive, watching you as you move your head up and down as tears build up in your eyes. And how he can head your soft gags when he decides to ram himself into your face, but he also likes to give you some pleasure. He loves having his head in between his head as he licks/sucks on you, and how you praise and moan at him or his name.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s slow and sensual at the very starting of your special moment, but he will soon become a wild animal from the amount of pleasure he’s getting and will start to become fast and rough by thrusting deep inside you. Which follows with him being sloppy and messy from how he just wants to hit a good spot that will make him feel much much pleasure.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Billy loves the idea and quickies, mostly he causes them. By tugging at your shirt and whispering gruesome words to you of how bad he wants to have you, and the things he wants to do to you.. Soon, starting to hump against you until you finally give in.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Even if Billy loves having sex with you anywhere and or having quickies, he doesn’t like the idea of getting caught with you because it would led to very bad things and possibly not even seeing you ever again. So he stays away from such risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Billy has a large sex-drive from how much he imagines such scenarios, touches himself and the held up sexual frustration. So when he got his hands on you he knew he could do whatever he wanted to do, because you couldn’t say no to his begging.. But, usually he lasts for 4 (in a half) rounds until he falls weak on the bed and is a whimpering and over-stimulated mess. Begging for you not to ‘use’ him anymore, but if you keep going he will still hold on as ur expect him to be holding at you for dear life.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Billy likes the idea of toys, yes! Though he would never actually use them because he’s scared if they’ll be too much for you and him.. Unless you beg him and he gives in (For Female reader ; If you ever requested pegging, he would be afraid of how rough you will be because he usually is with you. But once he gets to the actual thing his back is arching and his eyes are rolling in the back of his head. Begging and yelping for more).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you and watch you get impatient, but if you gets annoyed and or upset he will soon stop and quickly apologize to you.. “Billy is.. Sorry, thought you liked it” .. “It’s okaaay! .. It’s fine Billy, just- don’t do it too much? Now cmonn!”.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s loud.. Loud moans, whimpering, yelping, crying, mewling, etc. He will make any sound possible to show that he is loving every bit of the moment he is having with you. And not only that, but he mumbles out a lot of things while he’s inside you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When he’s in any position that has him looking right down at your face he will not stare away at you and watch your faces contort into faces of pleasure and your mouth opening into an ‘O’ everything you moan, and your eyebrows furrow. He will have a wear to ear grin while drool drips down his teeth and onto his chin.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Billy is about 6 inches and a solid 7 when hard, though he is slightly ‘short’ he is still thick. Billy is uncut and two inches into his base which connects to his top is slightly curved, which always makes rough sex good from how he pokes into you. Billy is average, but he knows how to use himself in someway that makes you feel so much pleasure.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High! He is very sexual, and in a gruesome way. So he loves anything that involves you two, naked and in the mood which makes you two go crazy and be all over each other.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You never get to see Billy fall asleep because after sex he immediately ventures off to his hiding spot and you won’t see him after a few hours, but even if you don’t think so.. Once Billy gets where he needs to be, he will immediately fall down onto the ground face first and small asleep. Snoring loudly, from how tired he is from all the rounds you two went through.