My Fanfic Readers' Point Of View On The Killers' For Each Of My Stories.

My fanfic readers' point of view on the killers' for each of my stories.

When a Survivor Bullies reader pov: The killers saved me from bullying.

Fate of Broken Roads reader pov: The two deadliest killers in prison befriended me.

Battle of The Imaginary Minds reader pov: My daughter befriended a killer and now I'm supposed to live with him'

Alas We Must Speak reader pov: Look, I just wanna be alone, but apparently I gotta babysit two of the dumbest killers imaginable.

Embracing The Realm of Control reader pov: What more do you want me to say? We're all naked! Naked, you hear me?! *faints*

My Own Exit Gate reader pov: Suicide, death, lies, hate, grass, knives, depression, suicide, death, lies, hate-

We Created a Halocline reader pov: Apparently I have to be mated to finally get some peace. Seriously doubt it's going to happen though.

The L Perspective reader pov: Omg, killers are so funny! I love them! I want to be friends with them all! *smothers Frank*

The Underdogs Great Stand reader pov: The underdog killer group made me feel less alone and gave me a home when no one else would.

My Gelastic Flower reader pov: The killers helped me with my epilepsy and accepted my flaws, though they could have been a little smoother about it.

Miracle of The Moonlight reader pov: The killers all brutally punished me because of lies that weren't true. Now they wanna lick my feet for forgiveness.

Reverse The Dancing Knights reader pov: I saved the killers' from captivity and now I'm their emotional support animal.

Now That's a Cut! reader pov: Got my heart broken for being asexual, but Jeffrey used his magic to mend it back together.

My Saddest Journey reader pov: The killers want to protect me from my own despair, but I don't trust any of them.

Beautifully Blind reader pov: The survivors hate me because of my disabilities, but the killers stood by my side and helped me understand this world.

Fanart of Jason Voorhees from my fic Battle of the Imaginary Minds.

Another commission for Semi_Weird_Shipper.💕 This is a painting of Jason for her fic Battle of the Imaginary Minds. One of my favorite fics that I recommend.🤗 ⭐https://archiveofourown.org/works/19892938/chapters/47117080

Not for Sale Do NOT repost Copyright© 2022 EroismPro18. All rights reserved Original character belongs to their rightful owners.

I just wanted to get this off my chest. I think the viewers of Weirdo's Slasher/Bad Guy Series deserve to hear it.

I've been writing a lot of fanfiction on my secondary account for a different fandom these past few months. And I've made a lot of new friends, one of which said something that really hit me.

She said that when she wanted to avoid writing/updating specific stories, she had the tendency to jump fandoms. And I felt that because it's what I'VE been doing. I don't think it's my slasher stories in particular that I've been trying to avoid writing, but rather the 'violence'.

All of my slasher stories were hitting that point in the plot where they needed an insane amount of violence and angst to be written, and I think I was suffocating in it. It was depressing me and making me feel trapped, I guess. So I ran off and built a secondary account to hide in.

One thing about this break I've had that I think has helped me is the people I got to talk to and the friends I made. I'm not gonna lie, they're complete nut-cases and a bit crazy, but nonetheless they're amazing people, and they helped me open up in ways I never knew possible. For once I felt like I didn't have to struggle to be strong or even an efficient writer. I just needed to be myself.

I was too afraid to be myself around you guys. I was being too hard on myself, hiding my weaknesses, trying to bite through the discomfort of what I wrote, putting on a wise facade so that everyone thought I was just some kind of inspirational saint. But I'm not a saint. I'm a 21 year old dummy who has a traumatic life and writes fanfiction to vent off steam.

I felt like I had to be the strongest so I forgot to be weak and it built on me until it finally collapsed. I was trying to help so many people that I forgot to help myself. And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for this whole sad, stupid post. I just needed to get it off my chest.

Thankfully all the simple, fluffy fanfiction I've been writing lately has mended me a bit. You would never believe what fandom it is either. I myself can't believe it, but that doesn't matter here.

I'm trying to get back on track. I'm sorry it's a slow pace. Luckily the newest chapters for my biggest slasher stories don't involve a lot of violence. I'm gonna sort through them, work my way back up, and hopefully begin a steady update routine. My apologies if my writing appears different in any way, I'm trying to work on it.

If you're curious about what I plan to update, here's a list-

-When a Survivor Bullies

-Battle of The Imaginary Minds

-My Own Exit Gate

-Miracle of The Moonlight

-Reverse The Dancing Knights

-Fate of Broken Roads.

Yep, I plan to give them all updates. I can't promise when and I can't promise how well, but I am going to try. I'm sorry again for everything, especially including this ridiculous post. I just... Really needed to get it off my chest.

Please remember that I love you all ❤️

Personally, I think one of the reasons why Jeffrey is so unsettling to people is because of his eyes. In the game his eyes are pitch black. Heck, it even unsettles me a little. But with concepts like this lovely fanart right here, I think it's easy to create small changes to make him seem more humane. I mean, look at his eyes! They're so pretty! And he's so handsome! I hope more people open up to him.

I write to:

- Say the things I can never say.

- Hear the things that I know no one will ever tell me.

- Release emotions.

- Feel emotions.

- Escape reality.

- And pretend that it's not my life that I am living but rather the fantasy life I've created with my own mind and my own words.

Jeffrey Hawk/The Clown taking care of a reader on their period.

He knew there was something up. Last night you had tossed and turned for hours on end, even going so far as to leave the bed and lay on the couch to "not bother him as much". Pfft. You should know better than to think that way. The only thing that bothered Jeffrey was when you made wrong and unnecessary assumptions about him. It was as if you expected the worst out of him. But he wouldn't get frustrated with you over this for he knew exactly what was going on.

Jeffrey had woken up before you, hauling himself out of bed to go fix breakfast and watch TV. He knew that, after such a difficult night, you needed the rest, and it was best to let you recuperate. The day could start later. However, on a trip to the restroom, he decided to stop and check in on you, his grey-blue eyes taking in the sight of your uncovered body bathing in the morning glow of sunshine penetrating through the curtains. You were so beautiful and cute, your mouth parted open, hair messy, arms strung out and feet tangled in the blankets. Your peaceful aura brought joy to his broken world.

He continued to gaze at you in simple admiration until the sight of something dark glistened within the morning sun. He huffed in suspicion and waltzed into the room, his eyes squinting as he looked down at the splotches of red in between your thighs. Oh boy. He sighed, noting that your underwear was soaked as well as the sheets beneath you. Welp, looks like you were going to be boss of the house for a while.

Minor aggravation coursed through Jeffrey's nerves as he quietly stomped off to start you a warm bath. He wasn't aggravated with you or the situation by any means, but he did have a feeling that this was going to be a problem for you. You were already so skittish, insecure and doubtful around him in general, constantly apologizing and panicking over the simplest things. Waking up to this? He just knew that you were probably going to freak out and overreact. You might cry too. Ugh... He hated seeing you cry.

After starting the water and grabbing a spare towel, Jeffrey returned to the bedroom and approached you on the bed. Carefully he seated himself on the mattress, his head turning back to take in your slumbering form. Dang it. He really didn't want to disturb you. He sighed, his hand reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. "Hey... Hey, bunny, wake up," He mumbled, stroking your cheek. "Wake up now."

"Mm?" Came your endearing reply, little, tired whimpers filling the air as you roused, eyes blinking open goofily. "Jeffrey?" You whispered, your sleepy tone just so adorable and sweet. He could eat you up in a heart beat.

"Hey bunny," He coughed a little while leaning down, his hand brushing your cheek before allowing you to take his hand, "How're you feeling?"

You blinked gorggily and hummed, your mouth opening with a yawn, "Mmm... Still tired." As you began to stretch, Jeffrey suddenly released your hand and went to place a palm on your thigh, stilling you into confusion, "What-"

"Try not to move too much, m'k?" He whispered in a somewhat hushed voice, his palms rubbing soothing circles into your thighs as he tried to pull a funny face, "I think the captain here's sailing 'cross the red sea."

"Huh?" You rasp in confusion at his confusing joke before the familiar terms hit you at bullet speed, and you were jerking yourself upwards far enough you could look down between your legs. And that's when the horror settled in.

"Now, now," Jeffrey began, pointing a firm expression your way before you started going haywire. "Don't you dare go off them rails, ya hear? This ain't nothin' to worry about, got it?"

"Oh no," You gasp, you're conscience overrun with mortification. You had started your period. You had started your period on Jeffrey's bed. How disgusting could you be? And he had caught you. He was right here in front of you witnessing it. Oh God, he must be furious. You had contaminated his personal belongings with your nasty human filfth, and now he was probably going to throw you out like the unleashed dog you were. "I... I..." Your eyes began to water.

"Damn it, (y/n), I said don't worry," Jeffrey sighed in visual frustration and stood up, his big arms lifting outwards towards you. "Up," He demanded, wiggling his fingers at you, "Come on."

"I-I'm sorry," You whined, one hand going to cover your eyes while the other clenched up in the sheets, "I'm so sorry..."

"For God's sake, quit apologizin'. I ain't mad; you know that," He grumbled, tossing the towel at you. "Here, wrap yourself with this. I got the bath runnin' for ya. Hurry an' get in there before it overflows."

You took the towel with a small speckle of uncertainty, your watery eyes looking at him with sad wonder. He wasn't mad? And he had made you a bath? You sniffled, your humiliated, terrified heart scrambling around in a ball of worry inside your chest. "Thank you, Jeffrey," You whisper, unable to face him as you grab the towel with shaky hands and go to wrap it around your waist. "I-I promise I-I'll clean this up. N-new sheets and everything, I promise, I-"

As soon as you stood up, Jeffrey pressed two fingers against your lips and wheezed, his scowl small yet teasing, "Do I needa' glue your mouth shut?"

You bowed your head at him in shame. Jeffrey sighed in huge exaggeration and pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you and holding you against his side, "Quit mopin', alright? The only crime you've committed is raisin' my water bill."

You scoffed, glaring at him from where your face lay happily smooshed against his pecks. He chuckled and ruffled your messy hair playfully, "I need'a redecorate anyway. Same ol' sheets get boring to look at all the time."

"I really don't mind cleaning it up," You whimpered, gazing at your bloody mess with shame and misery, "I know I'm disgusting..."

"And I don't mind spankin' your ass ya say somethin' like that one more time," Jeffrey growled, glaring unhappily at you in the hopes that you would understand that he wasn't in the mood to tolerate your obnoxious doubts and insecurities. Whenever you looked away in further despair, he sighed, hugged you tight and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead. "Get in there b'fore the tub overflows. Leave your clothes on the sink. Got it, sunshine?"

"Yeah," You replied quietly, your body absorbing his tender affections as he held you close for a few seconds longer.

"Now scat," Jeffrey gave you a small push, ushering you away so that he could take care of the blankets and sheets.

Stuck in a cloud of humiliation, you followed his orders and went to the bathroom, abruptly turning off the facet water before shedding your shirt, shorts and underwear. You sat the stained clothing on the sink as he requested and went to dip yourself into the fresh, clean tub, loving satisfaction buzzing through you as you enjoy the soothing temperature. Jeffrey always knew just what you liked. You were lucky to have him.

"Wastin' my water..." Jeffrey sighed in exasperation as he entered the bathroom to grab your dirty clothes, his eyes lingering on your shy figure lying cozily in the tub. You were so damn beautiful to him, even on your bad days.

"Really?" You groaned, knowing that he was obviously teasing you. He was always cracking silly jokes, trying to make you feel guilty about random things you would never feel guilty about. Over the months you had grown used to it, simply rolling your eyes every time he teased, but you wouldn't deny the fondness you felt towards his ridiculous jokes.

Jeffrey chuckled and asked, "Want me to cook ya breakfast?"

You fumbled nervously, unconsciously feeling bad for nodding, "Yes please?"

"What'a ya want?" Jeffrey coughed, purposely playing around with your dirty underwear and earning himself an attack of water being flicked his way. "Hey, I said no wastin' water. Jesus, you're tryin' to ring me dry."

"Oh stop it," You bark, rolling your eyes. See? A tease. You smiled at him and requested what you desired eating for breakfast, your heart drumming with content as he agreed to have it ready by the time you got dressed.

Before he left the bathroom, he made sure that you had everything you needed. Clean clothes, pads, your hairbrush and a fresh towel. He also brought you a cup of your favorite morning beverage along with some menstrual medication. Later on he would go to the store to stock up on some more of your monthly needs, but you might have to write it all down on paper for him. He wouldn't make you go anywhere when you were feeling like this.

After you were finished with your bath, you got dressed and did your morning bathroom routine before making way for the kitchen, the sight of the fresh bed sheets sending a warm tremor through your heart. How could you ever want for anyone greater? Did a greater person exist? The smell of breakfast outlined your precious feelings as you wandered into the kitchen, your fingers pressing together over your aching belly as you approached the man sitting at the dining table.

"Feelin' better?" Asked Jeffrey, his mouth twitching as he took one last drag off a cigarette before crushing it in the ash bowl.

"Mhm, thank you," You almost came close to apologizing again but paused immediately on account of the fact that Jeffrey did not like it when you apologized too much. So you settled for walking up beside him, your hands going to wrap around his shoulders, your face forming into a pout, "My tummy still hurts."

"Well tell it to stop," Jeffrey wheezed while waving the lingering smoke away as he pulled you close to him, one large hand slipping up the front of your shirt.

You instantly uttered a deep, quiet moan of bliss, the feel of Jeffrey's large, warm, magnetizing hand rubbing your tender, aching flesh causing your toes to curl in bodily satisfaction. It felt so good. You sighed, hugging him against your chest, your throat nearly purring from how good it felt, the love he gave you. He kissed your neck, his hot breath sending a shudder through you.

"Darn thing, makin' me waste all this water and gas," Jeffrey grumbled, chuckling whenever you pushed on his head a little in frustration. "Can't even watch my favorite show. Know why?"

"Because I'm dis-"

"Cause I already got it right here in my arms," Jeffrey cut you off, one arm tightening around you in a manner of fondness, love and protection. "Best show I ever did see." You melted at that, your body sagging into him as if you were perfectly molded for each other. Inside your chest your heart fluttered in madness, consumed by the loving attention he continued to shower you with.

Jeffrey finished cooking you and himself breakfast, continously teasing and making ridiculous jokes. You were beginning to feel better although the aches and pressure still greatly lingered. Eating helped a bit, but the cramps restrained you from properly enjoying the delicious meal. A few times you had complained up until the point Jeffrey grabbed your mostly empty plates, scraped them and threw them in the sink before dragging you to the living room sofa, and from there he proceeded to do one of your favorite things ever.

Once Jeffrey had the TV turned on to his desired channel, he grabbed his soda and sat down on the couch, steadily reclining back into the beat-in cushions. From there he gazed up at you and shook his head in confusion, his arms gesturing you forward. "Well come on," He ushered.

Blushing, you timidly walked forward, your body erupting with a small tremor of excitement as you stopped before him. Gazing away, you carefully put a knee on the couch on one side of his thigh before quickly following suite with the other, straddling his strong thighs between your own smaller ones. "That's it, bunny," Jeffrey rubbed the back of your head, his hands gently coaxing you into leaning against him.

And you did.

With a happy whimper, you leaned forward, your belly and chest pressing against Jeffreys and leaving you with just enough room to lay your head against his thick, warm pecks. And yes, it was precisely as amazing as it sounded. Forget hot water bottles. Forget heating pads. Forget massager guns. Why would you need any of those things when you had literally all you could ever want and more right here?

You sighed pleasantly, your cramps feeling significantly less destructive while being snuggly pressed against him. "I gotcha," He whispered against the top of your head, kissing you as his hands caressed and massaged the areas of your body he knew often ached the worst. "I gotcha."

And he would always have you.