#slasher!reader

[cloggedarteri]

actually very tickled by the thought that if there was ever an occacion where arthur would bring you around the camp almost everyone would fall for your doe eyed innocent act, except for micah

no one believes him when he goes off about the blood crazed eyes arthur's new friend has

no one listens when he tries to explain why he doesn't want to be anywhere near you

crazy recognize crazy i suppose

[thatweirdbitchjax]

Manifested

Warning: cannon typical violence, death, blood covered reader, slight spot of NSFW at the end

Reader/You: Remember when I told you guys I was manifesting that we had a fun trip?

Your Friends: nods

Reader/You: sheepishly Well, I lied.

Your Friends: tense What did you do?

Reader/You: excited I actually manifested that something crazy would happen and that would be how I met my soul mate, however I didn't know that I would lose you guys in the process.

Your Friends: relaxed So you're here to free us then?

Reader/You: giggling Oh, no! I'm here to finish you off so me and Tommy can live happily ever after. cranks Tommy's chainsaw before chopping them to bits

Your (ex)friends: screaming

Reader/You: pulls back covered in blood before looking over their shoulder at Thomas How did I do, darling?

Tommy: totally not hard 😊👍

[luminnara]

Obsession | Billy Loomis x Reader Part 2

Billy is obsessed with the reader and doesn’t know whether he wants to fuck you or kill you. Little does he know that there’s more to you than meets the eye...

Billy x GN!reader 

(I actually got some of the inspo for this from behind the mask: the rise of leslie vernon lol)

Part one!

Warnings: glorification of serial killing lol

Tags: @natiebug1 @henhouse-horrors @smenny @aceislivid

Billy Loomis thought that he was the scariest person in town. He thought that he was the most dangerous. He thought that, besides Stu, he was the most fucked up. 

Billy Loomis was wrong.

Because not that long ago, someone new had moved to Woodsboro. Someone who was just as fucked up as Billy, and who had already done a lot of the things that he and Stu were planning on…except that you had done your killing and then dipped, moving to a new town where nobody would suspect a thing.

When you had seen Billy Loomis for the first time, you had noticed something about him. It was something familiar, something that you recognized in yourself as well…and it got you a little curious. So you started watching him, always careful, always only out of the corner of your eye from an unassuming position across the field or the cafeteria. At first, you thought you were just being paranoid, still riding the high of your last couple kills in Santa Cruz.

But then, you noticed him watching you, and you knew you were right. Billy Loomis was a killer—or at least, had the potential to be one—and he was drawn to you for the same reason you were drawn to him.

You were the same. You were capable of killing, and you did. Or…wanted to. You weren’t sure if he had already, though you were willing to be that he had at least thought about it. Maybe he had planned something out. Maybe he was too busy stalking you to kill anyone.

Or maybe he was going to kill you.

You wondered if he would be able to. You’d been face to face with death so many times that it wouldn’t surprise you if Billy took a stab at you. Nobody had managed it so far, but you had seen the desperation in their eyes, the way that they tended to go absolutely feral in their last moments of life. You had seen more than a couple people who wanted nothing more than to turn the tables and murder you for a change.

Still, despite the possibility that Billy Loomis wanted to gut you like a fish, you weren’t too worried about him. You started up a boring daily routine with the hope that he would learn it and then use it to his advantage. You hoped that he would memorize your movements and then pop out at you one day, or come slithering through your window before you closed it at night. You hoped Billy would try something with you, because as you had watched him and he had watched you, you’d sort of…grown fond of him? Come to like him, almost? You were amused and curious, and you left him plenty of openings to come say hello.

And then the days dragged on and they turned into weeks, and you got sick of waiting. You took it upon yourself to address the elephant in the room, and all your weeks of boredom and domesticity and not murdering people were suddenly worth it just for the shocked look on his face. He really had no idea that you’d been watching him, and it was just as sad as it was adorable.

The next day at school, he was openly staring at you. You watched his head swivel as you walked past him and his friends, and you saw Stu Macher notice and look at you, too. Then, you heard his girlfriend hit his arm and yell at him for ogling you, and you chuckled to yourself.

Boys.

Billy hadn’t expected to find a note in his locker that day, but he knew who it was from the second he saw it.

Swing by tonight.

He knew it was from you, and he was equal parts pissed off and curious, because he still had no idea what your deal is, and he still had no idea if he wanted to kill you for fucking with him or fuck you for fucking with him.

So he did. He blew Stu off, and he climbed the usual tree by the usual window at the usual time. Instead of sitting on your bed or at your desk like usual, though, you were sitting on the window frame, one leg dangling along the side of the house as you leaned your head back and enjoyed the California night.

“You got my note,” you commented, cracking an eye open when you heard him.

“What the fuck is your deal?” He asked haughtily, climbing along the branch like a cautious animal.

“Are you mad at me, Billy?”

“Should I be?” He growled. “I’m not in the mood for any games. Tell me what your fucking problem is, or I’ll…I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” You raised an eyebrow. “Kill me?”

He stared at you in silence, almost shocked that you had said it so openly. “…yeah.”

“I doubt that, Billy Loomis.”

“Quit saying my name.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like it.” He lied.

You decided to change the subject.

“Have you actually killed anybody yet?” You asked, as casually as someone would ask about the weather.

Billy Loomis stared at you. “Excuse me?”

“You can tell me. I’m just curious.” You shrugged. “You seem like the type.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snapped, his hackles rising as he considered throttling you right then and there.

“Do you want to kill me right now?” Your voice was amused, and Billy didn’t know what to think of that. “You could try, if you want. We could see who wins.”

“…you’re insane.” He decided.

“Says the guy who’s been stalking me.”

“Why did you tell me to come over?” He growled. “Give me a real answer, or I’m fucking leaving.”

“Because I wanted to talk.” You hopped down from the window, landing barefoot on the plush carpet in your bedroom. “You can come in.”

He just stared.

“…or not. That’s fine too.” You rolled your eyes. “I just wanted to show you why you can trust me.”

Billy watched you. 

It was a trap. It had to be a trap. This was way too weird not to be. He didn’t know why someone would suspect him of anything, not when Cotton Weary was behind bars and nobody was the wiser about his and Stu’s little rendezvous with Sidney Prescott’s mother the year before, but this was way too suspicious.

“Come on,” you said, tossing your head. “It’s cool. I promise. You can stab me if it isn’t.”

“…you are the weirdest person I have ever fucking met.” He said, crawling along the branch until he could hop in through your window anyways. He had a knife in his pocket.

He figured he would be fine.

The smile you offered him was genuine. “Wow. I honestly thought it would be harder to get you in here.”

“Shut up and show me whatever the fuck you wanna show me,” he snapped.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” you smiled as you turned towards your bedroom door. “You’ve never seen the rest of the house have you?”

“…only the parts I could see you from.” He admitted, following you hesitantly.

You snorted a laugh. “So you’ve only seen the parts of the house that we want you to see.”

“…we?”

You reached back for his hand and he allowed you to grab it, his fingers cautiously intertwining with yours. “Yeah. Me and my family.”

He immediately stiffened, trying to pull away, but you held onto him. 

“Don’t worry. They’re all out having fun.” you said bitterly. “We’re the only ones home right now.”

Billy still didn’t trust you, but he stayed silent. He knew he could take you if it came down to a struggle, and if you started it, he’d even have a real self-defense excuse. 

You led him down the stairs and turned towards what looked like a hall closet. “So...this is pretty special, alright? I’m really not supposed to be showing anybody this, but I trust you. So don’t go telling everybody in town, got it?”

He gave you a skeptical, almost uninterested look. “Whatever. You gonna show me whatever it is or not?”

“So impatient,” you clucked your tongue, letting go of his hand and reaching into your pocket. You pulled out a key, slipping it into the keyhole and opening the door before taking a step to the side so he could get a good look.

What you revealed actually took Billy’s breath away. 

He was staring at a small closet, the walls painted a deep red and covered in...things. Newspaper clippings, weapons, weird, grotesque masks...and an odd assortment of other items, things that looked totally unrelated, things like necklaces and wallets and--was that a fucking finger?

“Yeahhhhh, that’s one of my brother’s trophies,” you said, noticing Billy’s eyes lingering on it. “He’s kinda...gross.”

He stared for another moment before turning to look at you. “What the hell is all this?”

You shrugged. “Mementos. Trophies. They’re from all over. We move around a lot, y’know?”

His eyes were wide as he began putting two and two together. “There’s no fucking way.”

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently. 

“No fucking way this is real.”

“Don’t you watch scary movies?” you laughed. “I thought you were into this stuff. It’s kinda...the family business, I guess.”

Billy’s mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile. 

Okay.

He liked you, after all. 

“Can you, uh...” he cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool and not totally geek out. “Tell me about everything?”

You beamed at him. “I would love to, Billy Loomis.”

[cloggedarteri]

⚠️implied cannibalism!

♡thinking about slasher reader whos just obsessed with having skin to skin contact with arthur...like they keep pulling arthur close to them without any explanation and make a habit of slotting themselves against his body.

♡slasher reader is touching up on arthur trying to feel his neck and his wrist and inner elbow and arthur is just struck dumb cause aint no one been this bold with him before, flirting or friendly

♡arthur’s losing himself thinking on how forward you’re being with him while you’re busy trying to memorize the feel of his skin, the thrumb of blood pumping through his veins…oh how warm it must be once you finally dig your teeth into him

[cloggedarteri]

you know how the brain kinda fills in the blanks for you when something is incomplete? i think thats the situation with arthur and slasher reader becasue i see there being multiple instances where arthur may have run into the reader during pretty incriminating moments. like there was that one time where he'd encountered you in the middle of the forest and your just dragging a large bag of...things? and to boot you're covered head to toe in blood and gore. and for some reason instead of reasoning that oh this person is a fucking danger to me and society, all he sees is someoone struggling along their path. and you know how arthur is, always trying to be helpful

and i think what makes it worse is that the reader looks so unsuspecting and innocent

...

police: stop citizen! you have a murderer in your mits

arthur: what do you mean? we're all innocent here

you: *fucking covered in blood and guts, bloodlust in your eye* yea...innocent

[cloggedarteri]

ill do the heavy lifting for the lack of cannibals in rdr2 myself

um

slasher reader likes to indulge but tries to stave off human flesh while they pursue arthur cause they want to be able to savor each and every bite once the time is right

and when would that time come, you ask...

who knows?

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

id like to think that there was never a definitive deadline for when the slasher would kill arthur but they'd nonetheless change the date of his inevitable execution everytime they found a new reason to love arthur

like oh arthur enjoys fishing and he's offering to take me with him for a short trip cause he wants me to share in his hobbies? fine i wont kill him tomorrow (you tell yourself even though you hadnt spent one second actually considering murdering him tomorrow)

and oh arthur likes to lay down in the flower fields with his horse and just watch the clouds till sunsert? fuck. fine he wont die tonight so i guess he'll live long enough to see another sunset

this cowboy has done irreparable things to your mind

[cloggedarteri]

slasher!reader insisting that they cook up something nice for arthur after spending all that time burning those burlap sacks full of... unmentionables...

arthur's already quite taken with the reader and getting a warm meal in his belly after some hard work is only strengthening that fact

he's not too sure why you're grinning so much every time he raised the spoon to his mouth

the stew was plesant. the broth flavorful...

and the meat. well, the meat was...something.

...

arthur: what meat you put in this darling?

you: oh...goat. a bit of dear. a bit of everything really

arthur: huh, aint no goat or deer ive ever tasted before

you: oh well thats cause i care bout my seasonings darling. cant have a meal without em

arthur: ive tried to say the same thing to pearson and all id got was a cuff to the ear

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

just finished my rewatch of berleezy playing the walking dead season 1 and was reminded of those crazy ass dairy farmers in episdoe 2

[cloggedarteri]

slasher!reader on the mind again and i really like the idea of arthur being unknowlingly complicit in aiding the reader in their sadisitic and violent passtime and with every social encounter arthur slowly comes to the realization of the horrid company he keeps

i can already see the fucked up missions playing out

theres a mission where arthur needs to locate and retrieve an escaped captive that'd ran into the grizzles the reader enlists arthur with catching them...and this escapee just so happens to have a portion of his togue cut out so they cant communicate their wish to not go back to the reader

and once arthur successfuly subduded them the reader is oh so greatful that arthur was able to bring back this poor lost soul and then after a few weeks arthur heads into the sheerifs office to do some bounty hunting and someone is there telling the sherif that their loved one has been missing for weeks near the grizzles but their conplaints will only fall into the ever growing pile of missing persons cases,