#Cornbugs
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evilvalentin3 · 17 days ago
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texas chainsaw massacre hyperfix has taken my music taste places i wouldnt even go with a gun /ref
🥩click 4 better quality🥩
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l0nd0n-dunge0n · 1 year ago
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Chop and Bucky
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chainsawhouse · 10 months ago
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Horror Hound 003 (2006) - Catching up with ChopTop
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earthwormsblog · 11 months ago
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Buckethead watercolour painting I did last night
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autolykiss · 14 days ago
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happy birthday bill <3
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lord-lawnmower · 11 months ago
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hitchyboi · 4 months ago
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🔨An Important Gift🔨
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(Been a while since I last wrote a story but figured I'd give a try with the moment Bubba became Leatherface.)
Content Warning: Descriptions of gore, violence, death, brief mention of cannibalism. Unhealthy family dynamics. The usual Sawyer family fun
Word Count: 3,383
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Newt didn't get a lot of folks, wasn't much there to bring them. An old rundown town that many had already fled from after the slaughterhouse started laying off men. Nothing but flat plains as far as the eyes could see with the occasional clump of gnarled twisted branches. Summertime was different however, with the warmer days and breaks from college semester or brutal workload many decided to travel. Traveling sometimes brings ya past old towns with nothing much more to offer aside from an ant eaten gas station and sleezy bar filled with bikers.
Hands sat down on the old bar stool with a heavy grunt followed quickly by a booming laugh. Raising his hand towards the familiar faced bartender for his usual drink of choice. His heart was still hammering behind his ribs, adrenaline pumping through his veins making his head feel lighter before he even got his first drink in his system.
"I know what that grin means, got yerself another win today?" The bartender makes conversation as she slides the Shiner bottle towards the large eagerly awaiting hand. Tipping his head back, Hands felt the cold liquid slide down his throat effectively quenching both his thirst and the heat. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he looked back towards the woman, her name never having stuck with him, and nods his head. Lips pulling back with another wide smile that barred his canines with a heavy thump to his chest. The other racers surprisingly did well this time, and that made the win much more enjoyable. Seeing their excited faced with baited breath as victory was so close to their grasp only to plummet to despair as he snatched it away at the last minute. The utter lost of hope as they were forced into defeat was his favorite part. Hands could still feel the vibrations of the engine working its hardest to power the vehicle, the spinning of the wheels he knows were seconds away from burning out on him. One wrong move they could've blown out, he could have spun out but he knows his car. He's worked on that thing since the day he managed to buy it with money he saved for years. Turning it from a hunk of metal to a beauty that was a force to be reckoned with when he was in the drivers seat.
They took his photos, tried to interview him and get comments. There was screaming. There was cheering. Everything and everyone was gathered around him, focused entirely on him. But now, Hands just wanted a nice cold drink and some time to relax after all of the commotion. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, blonde strands sticking to the damp skin as he finished his bottle and motioned for a second one. It's arrival was just as quick as the first but was accompanied with the sounds of the bar doors slamming open and the hustle and bustle of more people flooding into the old building. New people by the sounds of it, loud, brash and daring just about anyone to try and prove they weren't as indestructible as they felt.
Like maggots drawn towards a corpse the youngens moved straight towards the fighting pit, eager to place their names into the lonely town's mind no doubt. Calling it a pit was generous, more just a section of the bar that had the chairs and tables moved out of the way as the people grew more rowdy and irritable. First started as petty qualms and drunken idiocy but then betting came, and with that a way to pass time and gain entertainment. Hands' had his name written on that old chalkboard a few times in the past when he felt really pent up and had no other outlet. Eventually people stopped trying to challenge him due to his record. Except for new faces...
More drinks were swallowed down along with time itself, the sky grew dark long ago and there was no rush to leave. Hands lost track of how many fights had passed during that time, he hates to say it but those new faces sure did brawl well. Money kept getting passed around as tempered started to flare both from the wasted income and injured egos. Like a coyote who's leg was stuck in a barbed trap, lashing out at everyone despite knowing it's already lost. Teeth snarling and slobber flinging everywhere. The more they struggle the worse of a situation they ultimately wring themselves into. More money gets passed and more snarling is unleashed. Eventually those panic struck eyes and shiny slobbered lips turned towards Hands.
"Think you're real tough guys huh? I bet you can't win one fight against Hands over there!" One of the dogs challenged as a way to hide the tail tucked between his legs. One of the new faces, a wiry and lanky rat looking fella, looked towards Hands with a sneer from behind the security of their group's main face.
"That lug's just been sitting over there not doing shit!" The rat snickers and slinks past his barrier towards the silent blonde. Gaze still trained on his own bottle of beer despite the many looks locked on him. Watching the bead of condensation slowly tip over the curve of the glass and rush down to meet the many before it. Beady eyes looked the large man up and down with slight hesitance that quickly got replaced by hubris.. "Sure he's big looking but Daryl could take him easily! No sweat."
"Well, whaddya say... Hands?" The main face, Daryl, wears a matching smirk to the rat looking man. Staring down towards Hands with a predatory excitement. A brief eyeroll and nudge towards the rest of his mates at the other man's name. With a sigh Hands finally pushed his bottle to the side and addressed the scene before him, silent as ever with a frustrated twitch in the brows for his blissful buzz to have been interrupted.
Irritated or uncomfortable with the long moment of silence from their next toy the wiry rat had laughed in his face. Spittle flying out of his maw with an ugly high pitched yowl. "He's fucking silent! What? Can't even respond to him properly?"
"He's either dumb as shit or too scared to talk," Daryl laughs as the rat gets somehow even closer towards Hands. His warm breath hitting and fanning across his cheeks in an unpleasant way. Words never came easily for Hands, never did and never will. That don't mean he's dumb though. He worked hard to get where he was, worked for the recognition he deserves. Words didn't get him anywhere, cause he doesn't need them.
The meaty sound of skin colliding with skin sounding throughout the bar as the too close lanky man fell to the floor with a pathetic yelp, skull knocking against the bar table on his journey downwards. A low guttural growl echoed after as Hands looks from the prone man back towards the pit. Like a gator closing in on its prey, heavy metal plated boots stalked towards the youngens. Lips pulling back into a dangerous grin as regulars scrambled out of the giants way.
Daryl's face was a delightful mix of outrage and shock from the sudden assault. Faster then one would anticipate from a man with Hands' stature, looking near 7 feet tall now he was in motion. "Just... got lucky with a damn sucker punch." He grits his teeth with a sneer as the giant stalked closer, an air of excitement with every long stride. Hands could see two of the weaker bikers say something to Daryl but there was no ounce of care for the drag racer. One of their faces eventually twisted in distain as they bolted towards Hands and once again for that night the coyotes attacked.... but their opponent was no cowering prey.
The first biker went down easy, a swift kick to his shin was enough to make him stumble. Hands clasped his paws around his head with a quick jerk, a sickening crack echoed throughout the old building. Body falling to its knees then meeting the ground without an ounce of refusal, it was too easy really. Like those chickens out at the farm Grandpa occasionally asks Hands to deal with. That set off the other biker, ramming her shoulder into Hand's stomach and knocking him back a few paces. Sharp and metallic spikes continued to ram against his stomach, nicking and scratching at the man's leather riding jacket. Words launched from the biker's snarling maw that constantly fell to uncaring deaf ears, only being met with a deep and sinister chuckle. Bending his torso forwards, thick arms wrapped around the biker's body and lifting her up without trouble. A moment as her world flipped, eyes meeting the sight of metal tipped boots, caked in dirt and what looked to be rust. Blood racing towards her head making her sight briefly blur with a light fuzzy feeling.
Then the ground came...
Once... Twice... Thrice....
Skin breaking away to invite the rough flooring to her skull, splintering and cracking. Blood gushed from her head like a waterfall, down her mangled face and painting the floor in it's eye catching hue. There was an ear piercing scream a first, then a garbled whine that came along with desperate scratching against his sleeves. Then silence. Hands could feel the struggle leaving her body with each slam to the floor, the way her muscle tensed at first only to be forced to accept their own defeat. Another laugh fell past the giants lips as he dropped the now lifeless and paling body to the floor. His enjoyment was short lived as a blunt force slammed against his face full force, successfully forcing Hands off balance and colliding with the concrete himself. Hands slowly blinked as he gazed up towards the ceiling, unable to focus his sight on the beams that hung high above him. Warm liquid trailed down his face, pooling over his lips complimented with a throbbing wave. Heaving his skull to turn to the side, Hands could make out the figure of the largest Biker... what was his name again?... standing over him with the broken leg of a chair. White knuckles wrapped around the splintering wood now decorated with dots of crimson.
"What the actual fuck is your deal?! Why would you-?! You can't just-?!" Words broke through, yelled in his face as the throbbing reached from his nose towards the back of his head now. When was the last time he had gotten hit like this? Skull screaming and painting the surrounding area with his blood instead of others.. Probably when he first found this joint after his 18th. Back when he was fresh and thought he was stronger much like these pests. He wasn't fresh no more though, and unlike then Hands was stronger in more ways then one. Yet this rambunctious ego flying meat landed a solid blow...
A thick hand shot out to catch the second blow from landing, yanking the wood away from his assailant and throwing it to the side. "D-don't you fucking dare get back up!" The biker yelled as he looked back towards some of the remaining patrons. Eyes wide like a deer as he watched each head turn a blind eye, choosing to remain unknown to Hands' perchance for violence in favor of remaining intact themselves. Blood coated the tongue that ran along his teeth as Hands grasped one of the tables and hauled himself back to his feet. Spitting the thick mix of blood and saliva to the side, he looked back towards the biker as his heart hammered against his chest. The air was sweltering and felt thick enough to choke on, the gaze the stared down at the biker was not one of anger or outrage but rather pure glee. Sharp canines poked out of the ear slipping smile that stretched across the rugged face, blood staining the lower mouth and chin. Hands was on him in an instant, the biker was large but nowhere near a similar stature to the drag racer. Mounting over him, thick callused fingers wrapped around his throat and squeezed. Those same gleeful eyes now forced to be the only point of focus for the smaller man as the force had him sputtering for air. Eyes nearly popping as he struggled to grasp and scratch at the hands around his throat. The more he struggled the more pressure seemed to be added until there was a brief moment of respite. The pressure relented as air greedily was pulled into his lung. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes and slipped down his cheeks as the pressure returned to the front of his shirt instead. Lifting his front half up and slamming him back to the floor, knocking the recently acquired air right back out. A yell ripped through the man's throat as his skull collided with the stained ground beneath him. Images of his friends recent similar demise reflooding his thoughts as he was lifted and slammed back down. Ever slam was accompanied with another yell, a yell of pain, of fear, for help. Each yell was met with a roar of laughter and mocker instead of help. Blood red smile and a laugh like roar stained the man's sight with each slam to his skull.
Blunt nails grabbed the thin flesh around the man's forehead, forcing the skin to break and rip open. Thick fingers wormed their way under the flesh and began to pull. Skin and fascia tore from muscle and bone, splitting away like melted cheese bit by bit down the man's face. Yells weakened to whines as the body beneath him lacked anymore strength to fight back. Lifting his arm up Hands held the newly skinned feature like a trophy. Matching bloody hand thwacking at his own chest as he stood over the biker. With a final sinister laugh he watched as the behemoth of a man placed the flesh overtop his face and Daryl saw himself.
...
White wooden door to an old family farm clicked closed as Hands returned. Grandpa never minded when family stopped by when needed, the house was always an open spot for family and that old couch kept in the living room was exactly where Hands wanted to be for the night. Certainly sounded better then driving all the way back to whatever shitty motel he was previously staying at while buzzed when this was much closer. Hands' yearning for rest was briefly interrupted by the sounds of hushed whispers and bare footed pitter patters coming from the kitchen. At nearly 3 in the morning, everyone that lived in the house should've been asleep. Grandma and Grandpa always went to sleep, stayed asleep and awoke at the same times everyday and Drayton followed his grandparent's schedules closely.
Quirking a brow from the sounds he turned directions and opened the door leading towards the kitchen instead and was met with the sight of his 3 youngest nephews frozen like deer in headlights. Nubbins and Bobby stood on either side in the kitchen, greasy hair tangled from what looks to have been a rough night and in Bobby's hand was... a stick of butter? Standing in between them was the youngest of them, Bubba, his little round body clutching onto a metal bucket as big bovine like eyes stared up at Hands brimming with tears at being caught. Shifting his weight Hands leaned against the doorframe as he tilted his head, the twin's taking his silence as a sign to action.
"Bubba was hungry! We... we just were gonna make him something to eat!" Bobby sprang to first, pushing the stick of butter to join the bucket in Bubba's arms.
"Yeah, yeah! He-he was real hungry! Wouldn't.. wouldn't stop pestering us to make him something, yeah!" Nubbins followed suit with his twin, grasping at and shaking their younger brother's shoulders for added effect.
Slowly nodding his head as he took in his nephews words Hands closed the distance and peeked into the mysterious bucket. Bubba gave a whine as he shakily held the bucket further out towards his uncle, the boy always had been terrified of getting into more trouble. Two thawing brains sat at the bottom and didn't look nearly close enough to be ready to cook just yet. Buttered brains. Raising his eyebrows with a gruff his gaze moved towards Bobby accusingly. Bubba was hungry yet they decided to try and make something known to be a favorite of the older twin? A gummy grin stretched across his pale cheeks, left with the reddish purple birthmark, as his hands placed themselves on his waist with faux confidence.
"Wh-what's in yer bag there?! D'you get us gifts again?" A sharp uneven nail pointed towards the bag slung over Hands' shoulder. A chuckle reverberating from his chest at his nephews attempt to offshoot the conversation. Honestly, Hands didn't really care, so entertaining his nephews 'distraction' was the path he chose. Shaking the bag down his arm he dropped it with a light thump and began digging around inside it. Nubbins and Bobby eagerly crowding around him and giggling, giggling on Nubbins' end. Bobby's always came out more as cackles. Bubba strayed further back as he shuffled from foot to foot, not seeming to realize the threat of punishment had vanished.
G-grandpa said you won another race, can.. can i comes with you next time? I-i wanna see yous race!" Nubbins bounces in place like a flea, fingers dancing around as he spoke excitedly. Hands have a small chuckle and nodded his head at his enthusiasm. Nubbins had really wanted to see this race but Drayton said he wasn't allowed to go. Grabbing the desired items Hands leans back and pushes them into their tiny greedy hands. An old pair of racing goggles found themselves in Bobby's dirty mits while Nubbins had acquired a collection of teeth Hands managed to nab off those bikers before he left knowing his nephew had started taken the hobby of crafting. The critters eagerly accepted their new possessions and scampering off to compare. With those two thoroughly content left little Bubba, though little seemed to be an understatement as time went. Seeming to grow much faster then the twins were now he's gotten proper food. Despite growing on step with a beeve the kid still cowered at the slightest raise in voice, the odd movement that seemed harsher then should and the leering gazes he thought was directed towards him at all times. The kid need some god damn confidence, the kid needed some strength. Hands had exactly the kind of strength the boy needed...
Lowering down to his knee Hands clasped the boy's shoulder with a softer smile directed towards him. Those glossy edges were still there but none seemed to fully drip over as of yet. Taking the bucket of brains out of his chubby hands he replaced it with his needed qualities. With quivering lips and shiny eyes the boy looked down at his gift, furrowing his eyebrows and looking back up at his uncle with a babbling sense of words. Hands smiled and motioned towards his face, blood long since dried and flaking off his skin trailing from his nose and downward. A small gasp fell from his lips as previously scared eyes took to a shine Hands much preferred the look of. Clumsily eager hands fumbled to position the skin over his own, the inside soft and plush against his plump cheeks with a warmth the boy always craved. As he looked back up towards his uncle a smile stretched across his hidden face, gaze tracing over the evidence of the skin's previous owner's abilities. Short thick arms lowered then slightly raised themselves on either side of his body as Bubba puffed out his chest in an imitation of his uncle.
Hands watched as Bubba turned and eagerly rejoined his older brothers in bragging about their individual gifts. Standing back up Hands glanced down towards the forgotten bucket of brains and stick of butter with a final thought. One last gift couldn't hurt... Gramps doesn't have to know.
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hogbutch · 26 days ago
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intro post!
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hii i’m rue! i’m 16 and go by they/them. i <3 horror, oddities, art, and music!
also any art i decide to post will be tagged #myart
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my fav bands/musicians r:
Rubber Udder
The Jesus Lizard
Frank Zappa / The Mothers
PERVERT
Butthole Surfers
Rob Zombie
Snuki
Buckethead (+ Cornbugs, Deli Creeps)
Johnny Falloon
Ween
GWAR
Delta 8
Headcheese
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my fav movies/shows r:
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 1 & 2
Phantom of the Paradise
The Thing
Metalocalypse
American Werewolf in London
House of 1000 Corpses Trilogy
Shock Treatment
Rocky Horror Picture Show
Reanimator
Hellraiser
The Walking Dead
Repo: The Genetic Opera
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goreyskeleton · 3 months ago
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Cornbugs
Cornbugs
Help the song stuck
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I don’t think I want any further context… 😨
Edit: nvm they’re a metal band apparently I need that shit they better be good
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macabremadnesss · 3 months ago
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Can I be the unofficial leader of the nonexistent cornbugs fandom
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pierrot-fish · 1 year ago
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ummm
screenshot redraw and some doodles
(ft sticks in the bottom left :3 )
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cei606 · 2 years ago
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~~~~Leatherface~~~
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Leatherface metalhead is back!
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Chop Top Sawyer
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gideongrovel · 1 year ago
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LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰
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charleslee-valentine · 7 months ago
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the thrilling sequel ✨
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Cornbugs:)
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Turned out better than expected! Can’t decide whether to keep the sleeves or cut them off
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