#slashfic ocs

[slashfic-daydreams]

Here is a lazy art of V's lore 👀

I appreciate asks about my MC in Slashfic, as well as her son! If you are curious, don't hesitate to send me an ask. I have an ongoing challenge here, by the way :>

[h4llowieners]

y’know just a regular ol’ smoothie

[ansiettina]

Made mine and Gwen's slashficsonas!! Brainrot in brainrotting

[itsmallowfluff]

Because of course I had to make a Slashfic OC. I’m still working on a name for her.

Bonus faceplant doodle, because my job makes me mad but his tits make me glad.

[ashleyfableblack]

To Cringe or Not To Cringe Newest video dropping for youtube!  This time we’re switching gears to spread some positivity and support with Rainbow Jack and her Semi-Wholesome Queer Commie Memes Appropriation Crew, featuring Mukluk and Chapeau. Still working my way through learning the ropes of audio and video editing but I feel like we’re getting there.  I hope you all enjoy and maybe those who need to hear it get a boost from the support.  If ya do, drop a comment or a like, throw a subscribe or share it around.  It’s rough out there so stay warm and hang tight. 

[muerder-snail]

I recently got into slashfic over on the app Dorian and so I drew my mc, CJ in a quick mini animatic.

Context: my mc is based on billy lenz of black Christmas fame since all the other characters are based on famous slashers and he is like the most iconic since without billy lenz we wouldn’t have Michal Myers.

[souliescorner]

Time Blindness (a draft)

Hi guys! So some time ago I wrote a piece of a fanfic about time travelling in the slashfic universe (I don't want to spoil much). However I do wonder whether to publish it or not - it would be a couple of chapters, like a side story with the OC I had created.

So here's a part and you can tell me if you want more. :)

Let the brain rot begin, ey!

***

In this world there are always some truisms which don’t even need to be spoken aloud, because doing so  would be a clear waste of air. Such truism, for instance, is that no matter how much you like horror movies, or the Hunger Games universe, you don’t wish to live in either of them. Ever.

Except in Ophelia’s case, that wasn’t much of a choice—certainly not hers, if we are being honest here. She was quite frankly deceived, and on top of that deceived rather well by a walking cringefest, a blondie TikTok star with mommy issues and a stolen spellbook—or as the others called her - Riley Monroe. Shame, ‘cause the girl apparently had no idea what she was doing anymore.

“I’m telling you, it will work this time!”

That’s what he said. Ophelia thought. Evidently, the Office references were powerful enough to be genderswapped in 2024.

She shook her head, trying to come back to reality for the 1000th time this week and exchanged quick glances with Ghost - a tall young man wearing a black hoodie and a fox mask, grinning at the sight. 

One more look of disapproval at the witch wannabe currently frantically going through the old book’s pages would do the trick.

“You know what, Riley? Forget it. You clearly don’t know how to handle this bullshit..”

“Shut up, you walking goth girl stereotype!” The blonde woman raised her glare from the book’s page  and stared at the raven- black- haired one, her pale visage struck by a furious grimace.  “Get off me and go somewhere else to listen to some Depeche Mode or  some other shit!”

Truth to be told, Ophelia loved Depeche Mode very much—who doesn’t, right?—but the group was placed on her long list of favorites, among many different bands and vocalists - to be reduced as such was almost an unforgivable act. Lately however, being the slashers’ plushie took the cake of both annoyance and unforgiving, and shoved it to the goth's face.

To even think becoming a counselor at the Nevermoor Camp, after all the tragedies she had suffered before -   like the burning of her family home years ago and the death of her parents, her older brother, Aaron, and Anastacia,  and one of the worsts break ups ever, would be a child’s play…It was a grave mistake. A scenario worth either a horror movie or a dark comedy—the woman wasn’t so sure anymore which one exactly.

The air grew heavier with each passing second. Finally, Riley managed to break it.

“I got it! This should work for the both of you!” The blondie glanced at Ophelia and Ghost, biting her bottom lip.

“Will you…?”

“No.��� Riley interrupted,  slightly raising her voice annoyed. “No, Ophelia. It won’t send you to the Middle Ages. Just Ghostie’s past.”

“For your generation it’s pretty much the same, right?” The masked man laughed at his own lame joke and winked at the woman standing next to him.

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Ghost! I need to focus!” Monroe took the yellow page between her slim fingers. “ Reversae possibilitates, elige unum aut alterum, et praeteritum cum praesenti adversus se faciant."

And suddenly the world around the two of them spinned as if at the speed of light.

(...)

[ohh-fiddlesticks]

omg a couple of weeks ago when i got back from hike i found out my mum had gone through my wardrobe and reorganised some stuff and she’d gone through the drawer where i keep my taxidermy tail my paws (both bought at a convention) my rainbow flag (given to me by a friend) and that one f/o letter i wrote (so all things she wouldve had no idea about) and istg i literally felt like that one “mom found the poop drawer” meme. especially because i didnt realise she wouldve seen the f/o letter until the other day when i was looking to see if the rainbow flag was still in there (i thought shed gotten rid of it since i hadnt seen it in there) and it turns out it was in a bag in the drawer also containing the letter. absolutely terrifying realisation

[slashfic-daydreams]

Charlie's Little Secret

Woman is just ABSOLUTELY shocked 😨🤯

Charlie Lovelace belongs to @eyetoothcharalampos! (This scenario is inspired from one of our convos hehe)

[eyetoothcharalampos]

Colour vers:

Grey vers:

[h4llowieners]

Ah yes. Me. My girlfriend. And her 6’7 tall serial killer

[itsmallowfluff]

A little Drabble for the College!AU written but the lovely Vera_Wenadera in which Leather’s family owns a Steakhouse and Eva is a waitress who’s worked there for a while.

They’re not dating….yet.

It was late—later than it should’ve been, considering Eva hadn’t even been scheduled to close. But there she was, camped out in one of the booths, completely absorbed in whatever paper she was writing, while the rest of the restaurant emptied out.

Leather finished wiping down the last of the tables, the scent of cleaning products still lingering in the air. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching as she started packing up her things with sluggish movements.

“You done?” He asked, pushing off the counter.

Eva hummed in acknowledgment, rummaging through her bag to make sure she had everything.

“Come on, let me drive you home.” He said, already anticipating her refusal.

Predictably, she shook her head. “You don’t have to.” She said, slinging her bag over one shoulder. “It’s still early enough to catch the bus.”

Leather exhaled sharply, unimpressed. “Not this late, you’re not.”

Before she could argue, he grabbed her bag and hauled it over his own shoulder. Eva let out a halfhearted protest, reaching for it, but he just gave her a look that dared her to fight him on this.

With an exaggerated eye roll, she huffed and followed him out into the warm night air.

The parking lot was nearly empty, the flickering streetlights casting long shadows over the pavement. Leather walked ahead, Eva trailing just behind, muttering something under her breath. He smirked, not bothering to respond. When they reached his truck, he opened the passenger door and stepped back expectantly.

Eva stared at him for a beat, arms crossed. “You know, I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.”

“I know.”

Eva pressed her lips into a thin line, but there was no real fight behind it. With a sigh, she climbed up into the truck, and only then did Leather finally hand her bag back.

He walked around to the driver’s side, slid in, and turned the key. The engine rumbled to life, filling the quiet space between them. As he pulled out of the lot, he stole a glance at her.

Eva was already settling in, her head tilting slightly toward the window, fingers absently playing with the strap of her bag.

This wasn’t the first time Leather had given her a lift home. After long shifts, it had become something of a tradition. They’d leave the restaurant, drive aimlessly, taking the interstate and circling the town. Sometimes they’d talk, sometimes they wouldn’t.

Eva would put on some random bands, ones that Leather had never heard, and probably wouldn’t again but he liked that she liked them.

Some nights they’d pull into the gas station for snacks, fill up the tank, and keep driving, making no real plans, just moving with the night.

A few times, they’d driven until the first light of dawn.

"So," Leather said, breaking the silence, his voice casual but offering her a choice. "You going home, or do I take the exit?"

Eva pursed her lips, her gaze distant for a moment, weighing the question. Then she dropped her bag at her feet and slid across the bench seat, closer to the radio, closer to him, reaching for the AUX cord she’d rigged to work with his old truck’s stereo.

With a small nod, he took the exit, and they were off, the night unfolding in front of them, the road stretched out like an open invitation to keep going.

Leather guided the truck onto the interstate, the tires humming against the asphalt. Neon signs and passing headlights streaked across the windshield in a steady blur, and the night air, cool against his arm, drifted in through the open window.

Beside him, Eva fiddled with her phone, scrolling through playlists. A soft, mellow guitar riff soon filled the cabin, another obscure band he’d never heard of before.

He stole a quick glance at her, noticing how her posture eased a bit now that she was off the clock and away from books. Sure, her fatigue was still there, but the tension in her shoulders was loosening, and her eyes weren’t quite so heavy. There was something about these night drives that seemed to peel the weight off her, at least for a few hours.

Eva hummed softly to the music, just under her breath, then rested her head back against the seat. The song changed, and she reached over to adjust the volume.

“Tired?” Leather asked.

“Yeah. But not too tired for this.”

He nodded, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Streetlights danced over them in fleeting patterns, casting shadows across Eva’s face.

Leather flexed his grip on the steering wheel, letting the familiarity of the routine take over. He liked this—liked being a quiet presence for her, even if he didn’t always know what to say.

She was quiet, too quiet tonight and he didn’t want that. Quiet nights meant shorter drives and he wasn’t ready to drop her off just yet.

Thankfully Leather knew the trick by now.

He’d learned early on that the quickest way to get Eva talking—really talking—was to ask about something history-related. It didn’t matter if it was the wacky politics of long-forgotten empires or some obscure battle over something strange like a castle or a single bridge; once he asked, she was off and running.

He stole a glance at her, her tired eyes watching the road blur by.

“So, are you still reading about that guy?” He asked casually. “What was his name again? The, uh... Ottoman Sultan who had all those... issues?”

Eva’s straightened up immediately, and a spark of energy flaring through her. “Ibrahim.” She said. “Ibrahim the Mad.”

Leather nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “Right. He’s the one who—what was it? Did something... crazy in a harem?”

“Crazy is an understatement.” She scoffed. “He was mentally unstable, and the harem politics surrounding him were insane. Not to mention the fact that his court was practically ruled by his favorite consort—his mother.”

Leather kept his focus on the road, but he was smirking now. He’d pushed the right button. Eva was off, the words spilling out faster than he could track.

“She was the one really pulling the strings behind the scenes, though. But here’s the crazy part: Ibrahim was known for being completely unpredictable. One day, he’d be kind and generous, and the next, he’d have someone executed for the slightest offense. It's like he couldn’t decide if he was going to be a tyrant or a reformer, and it’s wild because he was eventually deposed for his erratic behavior.”

Leather could tell she was getting into it now, hands gesturing wildly as she spoke.

Leather leaned back in his seat, listening but not really needing to respond. There was something beautiful in the way she could take a subject that would have bored most people into a state of dozing off and turn it into something with life and energy. The way she felt history, like she could reach into the past and pull it into the present, made it impossible not to get caught up in her excitement.

And that’s how the drive would go. Eva would talk—passionately, without stopping—about some historical figure, battle, or political intrigue, until her voice started to soften and the rhythm of the road lulled her into a quieter state.

As the night wore on and her words slowed, Eva would eventually adjust herself in the seat. She’d twist her body just enough to make herself comfortable, shifting so that her back rested against him, using him as an impromptu backrest. Her feet would find their place up on the door, one leg crossed over the other, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The air in the truck would grow stiller, quieter, the hum of the engine and the occasional pop of the tires against the road filling the space.

Leather wouldn’t say anything. He knew she was getting comfortable, letting the exhaustion from the night take over.

Leather would glance over from time to time, a faint smile pulling at his lips when he noticed her eyes flutter shut mid-sentence, and then flick back open again like she was fighting to stay awake. She never quite finished her last story, and yet he didn’t mind.

Eventually, her head would nestle more firmly against him, her steady breathing blending with the low hum of the road. Leather would turn the music down a notch, allowing her voice—and her soft snores when they came—to fill the quiet. The route didn’t really matter anymore. They could circle the town all night if they wanted.

What mattered was this moment: Eva half-dreaming, half-ranting about the past, and Leather content to listen for as long as she stayed awake. When she finally drifted off, he’d feel the slight, comforting weight of her leaning into him, and he’d keep driving under the blanket of night, letting the rhythm of the road carry them both just a little farther away from the worries waiting in the daylight.

[thatweirdthingoverthere]

In summation, WRITING FANFICTION IS GOOD FOR YOU EVEN IF IT'S WHAT OTHERS WOULD FIND "CRINGE" IT'S LIKE SPINACH FOR YOUR EMOTIONS

My therapist just told me my problem is that I need to write more fanfiction.

[shadyruinstragedy]

[sillylittleartist66]

[m3ch4-ch1m3r4]

Hiii I'm one of those ppl who screamed at your scrumptious Slashfic redesigns ( @slashfic-daydreams, specifically) :] /pos

I just wanted to say that your redesigns inspired me to I can draw my OC as a Slasher. Her choice of clothing was inspired by you. You're amazing buddy :3c

So uh if you don't mind, here's the OC I was talking bout

Sorry for the many pics, there's just a lot of alternatives of it LMAO :']

Have a great day ahead of you! Love you art as always! ^-^

TWO THINGS.

Oh my days?? YUM? Love the art and the design; you ATE that!!! I love deer imagery so bad grrgrgrrgrgrrg rips pillow open w my teeth. THE DESIGN IS SO COHESIVE N WORKS REALLY WELL TOGETHER!!!

Second off; SOBBING CRYING FLAILING AROUND??? INSPIRED BY ME? PAUSE SAY SIKE RN,,, that means the world to me oh my days; THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!!! 🧡🧡🧡 This is so frickin sweet omgee,,