#corpse fucker

[bloodncumm]

dead girls cant say no use her corpse

[fckedinlove]

i love it when a completely ‘normal’ blog likes my necrophilia posts, especially if it’s a sexual blog. i know what you are, you know what you are. all i’d have to do is take one little screenshot and show everybody else, and they’d know too. you should just admit it before everyone has to find out the hard way, right? come on, honey, tell everyone you wanna be a cute little corpse fucker too

[my-throwaway-tbh]

i found a ton of pictures on cdg a while ago of the hottest dude ever spoiler alert he no longer has a head

dm to see them

[ydteus]

Evil Stick | Ball of Sunshine

[livindeadgirlgrav]

Hi, i was wondering if you could do a Michael Myers, Otis driftwood, The sinclair twins and The grabber x Reader, but the Reader is kidnapped or is cornered by them, and with no options left, they Surprise attack with a smooch!!!

Of course!! Thank you for the request! Also I love your profile pic its so cute!

Warning: Violence, slashers, kidnapped, kinda NSFW, blood, gore, slasher things, overpowered, mature themes, Stockholm syndrome,

Michael Myers

Since Michael has kidnapped you, you have become use to him towering over you and corning you but he usually would turn around and leave after a few minutes but today he wasn't moving a muscle. In fact he kept getting closer to you. Forcing you to back up into the wall. Starring at him you watched him become inches away from you, lowering down to become inches from your face. Forcing you to stare into his dead eyes through the eye holes of his mask your eyes glanced down at the lips of the mask and before you knew it you threw your arms around his neck and smashed your lips onto his. You held onto him tightly as he sprung up faster then his typically movements. Michael quickly grabbed your arms forcing you to let go. As your feet hit the floor your furrowed your eyebrows at him, upset at the lose of contact. Michael quickly left the room, he was more confused than he had ever been.

Otis Driftwood

You had been stuck in Otis's bedroom since the first day he kidnapped you. Otis has tortured you for weeks now, but it wasn't as bad as what you seen him do to other victims within the house. Besides you were the only victim in his bed now...which is scary by itself. Today was like any other, you woke up chained to an empty bed. Sitting up you rubbed your sleepless eyes and pulled at the doll like dress he forced you to wear. You hated it, it was short and itchy but it was better then being naked all the time. Your head shot towards the door as you heard him barge in carrying a unconscious girl in his arms. You sat up on your knees looking to see who the girl was. "Who is she?" You asked a bit demanding. Otis shot his head up at you. "A new pet.." You widened your eyes and quickly stood up on the bed and shook your head. "No! Get her out of here!" You shouted. Otis chuckled a bit watching you before turning and placing the girl on a chair, tying her up. "Otis get her out of here." You demanded stepping down off the bed. Before you knew it Otis grabbed your throat and forced you back onto the bed. Falling down you caught yourself on your elbows. "Now listen mama, I don't rightly care for your attitude." He stated shaking you a bit. "Maybe I need to remind you about your place here hm?" He asked but seeing that his threats weren't phasing you made him more mad. Otis pulled his bloody knife out from its holster on his hip but before he could do or say anything you grabbed his hair by one of your hands using the other to balance yourself on the bed. Pulling him down quickly you smashing your lips onto his. Otis didn't pull away he chuckled into your kiss as he kissed you back roughly. Before you knew it your dress was being cut off with his bloody knife. Once your dress was off he pushed his knife onto your neck. "Come on mama, lets finish what you started." He stated as he ushered to his belt with his free hand. Quickly nodded you did exactly what he wanted, your fingers undid his belt with ease. Otis was a bit shocked by your eagerness but he wasn't about to stop you anytime soon. But he did know one thing your lips were much sweeter when you kissed him willingly.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent favored you ever since you rode into town. He actually thought you would have wanted his twin brother more than him but when he saw you running into the wax museum trying to hide within his work he felt a sense of happiness he had been searching for. So when he came out of hiding, gently pushing you into a corner of the museum, smiling a bit to himself when you didn't shout out a blood curling scream. "Help me." You stated softly starring at his waxy face. Vincent tilted his head in confusion. Weren't you scared of him? Vincent grabbed your hand and pulled you into another room then through a door and down the wax steps. Pulling you into his workshop. Luckily there wasn't any projects down there at the time. "You make them?" You asked softly as you looked around. Vincent stared at you before walking closer towards you. "T-That man out there is trying to kill me.." You stated as you watched the man. Vincent pointed to himself. Shaking your head you stated. "No, not you. The mechanic, I think his name is.." You stopped trying to think before you knew it you were pushed against the wall. "Hey?" you stated looking at the man. "I'm sorry, thank you for helping me." You stated before kissing the man's waxy cheek. Vincent quickly backed up and stared at you. Starring back you watched him point towards a bed within the corner. Nodding you walked towards the bed and sat down as you watched the man nearly trip up the stairs and slamming the door.

Bo Sinclair

Bo chased you down and jumped on you like he's down countless times to several different victims. The more you squirmed the more he liked it. He flung your small figure over his shoulder and carried you into his shop and down to his little makeshift dungeon. Bo slammed you down into the chair in the center of the room and was surprised when you didn't fight back or tried to get up and run. Regardless Bo still tied you down with duck tape. You breathed deeply trying your best to calm yourself down. Bo quickly grabbed your jaw and forced you to stare at him causing you to whimper a bit. Bo smirked a bit as he stared down at your lips. "Look at the way those lips curve." he stated in his deep country accent. Without thought you leaned up and smashed your lips onto his, Bo didn't stop you and didn't push away he simply kissed you back a bit rougher then you were. As you pulled away Bo bit your bottom lip and tugged it a bit before letting go and pulling away. He watched you lay your back down against the chair, once again Bo smirked and chuckled. "Don't you worry darling we'll get there. Just gotta be patient girly." His words made your face heat up turning your glace away from him, he chuckled and stood straight. You eyes wondered you him, watching him grab his keys and head to the door. But before closing said door he glanced up at you with the most lust filled eyes you've ever seen. You knew exactly what was gonna happen once he got back but for once you were excited to see him come back.

The Grabber

Sitting on the mattress you stared at the door. Today was the day you knew it. You knew you had to get out of there. Feeling yourself slipping into what felt like madness. You were so strongly conflicted, you despised your captor but in another light you were weirdly attracted to him. You liked the way his hair framed his masked face, you enjoyed the way his fingers moved and how comforting his presence could be. You picked at the skin on your fingers thinking about how soft his lips were before being interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking and opening. You watched him walk in with a tray of food. The same as always eggs and a soda. "I made you some breakfast." He said like every other day. You nodded and walked over towards him. He looked down at you, watching how your eyes glanced at the stairs behind him. He tilted his head a bit. You could have swore he read your thoughts because as soon as you darted behind him he dropped the tray and grabbed you up. But to his surprise you didn't fight him or scream. He growled and walked towards the mattress but as he tried to throw you down he noticed how you hung onto him. He pried your hands off of him. "Stop! Don't!" You shouted as you fell to the bed but you quickly grabbed his shirt pulling him down a bit just to wrap your arms around his neck and smash your lips onto the masked lips. Kissing him you didn't care that it wasn't his actually lips. This was still him and you loved it. The grabber was taken back but he let you kiss the lips of his mask. Once you stopped and pulled away looking at his blueish brown eyes. "Don't leave me." You stated as you hugged him. Albert furrowed his brows but he let you hug him placing a hand on your back.

__________________________________________

Wellll thank you for reading! And I hope you guys enjoyed! I loved this request! Thank you again for it! 🖤🖤

[bosinclairsgff]

Slashers reacting to you biting them

Includes: The Grabber, Otis Driftwood, Bo Sinclair

Warnings: kidnap, cussing abuse, NSFW mentioned

Not full on drawing blood type biting but love nibbles yk? Also I hate this but idk.

- Depending on Alberts mood, he’d either giggle and find it cute or he’d slap the shit out of you.

- It’s so hard to tell what he’s truly feeling so your careful when you first do it. He had been spending more time in the basement with you, sometimes holding you. So one day while he’s holding you, you grab his arm and lightly bite him, and holding him in your mouth for a moment. Immediately he’s frozen in place, not knowing how to react at first. “Why’d you do that dove?” He’d ask while holding you closer to him. He wouldn’t mind after you explain it’s kinda your love language.

- You read the room so wrong. Al is holding you sure, but the room feels off and he breathing heavy. You make the decision to slightly bite his arm, in a loving way like you had explained last time. This time though, he pushed you off his lap, you hit the concrete floor hard letting out a small yelp. He towers over you and kicks you directly in your stomach. You cry out in pure pain. “Please, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you mad, I’m so sorry!” You try to reason with him. “You dumb bunny. Such a dumb pathetic bunny.” He say’s delivering another blow to your stomach, knocking the breath out of you. Satisfied, he kneels down to look at you. Saying nothing he kindly pushes your hair out of your eyes. Albert then leaves without saying a word.

- Otis would take it as a kink or a way to kick of sexy time.

- Otis was working on one of his art projects, not paying much attention to you. “Otis?” You question standing by his chair and putting a hand on his shoulder. “What do you fucking want mama?” He says slightly annoyed. He turns around to look at you. “Can I sit on your lap while you work…please? I’ll sit still and be good I swear.” You say as you pout. Otis rolls his eyes but pats his lap. You happily take your stop on his lap. Straddling your legs over his thighs, facing him. After a second of looking in his eyes, you lay your head into the crook of his neck. You stay that way for a few minutes before you get the idea to slightly bite his neck. He lets out a deep sigh. “What the fuck are ya doing girl?” He questions. “I jus wanted to bite ya. I’m sorry.” You say feeling your cheeks heat up. Otis grips your ass and pulls you closer to him.

- You can only guess what happens next.

- Bo would also take it as a way to get in your pants.

- You were in the shop sitting on the counter watching Bo work. “I can feel ya staring at my ass y/n.” He chuckles, making your face turn red. Standing up and walking over to you, just to hold you in his arms for a moment. His arms wrap around your waist and his chins rest on the top of your head. You melt into his touch, closing your eyes and relaxing. After a few moments just resting with each other he lets go of you. You lightly grab his arm and kiss it before slightly biting it. He’s immediately turned on. “Woah I’m usually the one doin tha biting baby.” He jokes. “I don’t mind this though.” Bo closes the distance between you to and catches your lips with his.

- Pound town goes CRAZY, you do explain after though that it’s a love language. He doesn’t understand and will probably always take it as your down for a quick fuck.

[ethanhoewke]

if i die i die

credit: hewittswhore

[postal97]

𝐑UN RUN RABBIT.

[lussiane333]

Haiiii I fucking love ur fics and I was so happy when I found out u wrote for Otis Driftwood and I was wondering if you could write smut hcs for him :3

Hello! So sorry for the long wait, but here it is!

Otis Driftwood headcanons:

Warnings: NSFW, gore, mentions of killing, and more.

He loves blood, especially the one from his, maybe y'alls victims, but he also wouldn't hesitate to make you bleed.

He just loves to get messy.

Carving symbols into you, his initials, licking the blood after.

This fucker won't take it easy with you...

You would always, a l w a y s, have his mark on you. Whether it would be bite marks, bruises, or some other wounds.

Now, he definitely is a performer, and would love to ...demonstrate with you, for others.

Imagine him putting on the skinned face of someone, and fucking you from behind, in front of the relatives, friends or a partner of the victim, while you're holding eye contact with them.

He would taunt you, murmuring filth into your ear, asking, if you're enjoying this more now, degrade you. Oh what a slut you are.

He enjoys witnessing the fright and dread in others, particularly when he is responsible for it.

And now that he has you, he wants from you to get used to it.

He'd be really into it, if you were even more messed up than he is.

Give. Him. Ideas!

But, you're being mouthy with him? Oh you want to argue?

Mhm, he makes sure to use that mouth to a good use.

Slapping his dick on your face, choking you on it the next minute.

Talk now, if you can...

Angry fucking with him is a must.

He loves it. Loves to destroy you, especially after an argument or a fight..

Someone makes him angry? Better prepare yourself for a hard, nasty session.

Now, he is a brute. But god forbid someone else harming you.

Definitely would decapitate them, and use the head as a decoration.

If not worse...

Isn't it wild how the twisted things ends up being what you crave the most?

[fckedinlove]

i’m literally just a corpse :( literally i am just a dead little boy :( i’m so young my life had just started and it’s already gone … why should i have to Think or have problems ever …. it’s so disrespectful to the dead ……… i just need cuddles even tho i can’t give them myself … just position my arms to wrap around you because you know that’s what i’d do if i could !!!!!! it isn’t my fault blood isn’t pumping thru them anymore !!!!!! i love you :( i want cuddles :( too little to be rotting all alone .. it’s scary :(

[my-throwaway-tbh]

how would you kill me ?

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

[venus-haze]

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? (Foxy Coltrane x Reader)

Summary: It’s Halloween, 1985, and your Little Red Riding Hood costume catches the attention of the Midnight Wolfman himself.

Note: Female (incredibly unhinged) reader. Foxy calls the reader “Red” because of the Halloween costume, not due to any physical descriptors. I've literally been working on this since February🫠 Anyway, this is for all the old man fuckers out there🖤 Except if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Discussions of canon typical violence. Sexually explicit content involving semi-public play, oral sex (m. receiving) and light roleplaying elements.

October 31, 1985

As soon as you walked into the bar up the road from your place, you immediately wanted to walk out. Having no other plans for Halloween night, you figured you could make the best of going solo. Wore a cute little costume to see where the night led you. Somehow you ended up in a bar where no one else was dressed up for the holiday that called for it. At least, not to the extent you were. Sure, it was a mass-produced Little Red Riding Hood costume you bought on your way home from work, but you made it your own with some makeup and cute heels you dug out of your closet.

You trudged over to the bar, soon nursing your drink and your hurt feelings. With your lip pouted in a slight sulk, you looked around, hoping to catch someone’s attention. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a man approached. Dark eyes locked on you. Sly grin on his face. Older, handsome in a scruffy way that your friends always teased you for being into.

You craned your neck to look up at him from your barstool. He sure as hell had that going for him too.

“I dig your costume, Little Red.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Seems like I’m the only one here who got the memo that it’s Halloween.”

“Hell, Halloween is everyday for me,” he said.

“You got a name?”

“You can call me the Midnight Wolfman.” He threw his head back and bellowed out a howl.

Your eyes widened. Heart might’ve skipped a beat. 

Shouts and cheers punctuated the sound, a few of the bar patrons following his lead with weak howls of their own. 

He was probably crazy. Or drunk. Likely both. But fuck, why else would you have gone out on Halloween?

“Buy me a drink, Wolfman?” 

“Glad to, Red.” 

He sat down at the stool next to you, long legs splayed out as one of his boots rested between your heels on your footrest. He claimed your space so easily, you nearly forgot you’d only just met him.

Two shared shots of whiskey later, your face was warm as he leaned in to talk. His easy drawl lured you closer, knees touching, close enough that you could see yourself in his steel blue gaze. You nearly suggested finding a booth to squeeze into. 

Your mind raced with visions of him pulling you onto his lap, his big hands all over you, lips attached to your neck while the other bar patrons were none the wiser.

“Most people call me Foxy, though,” he said.

You furrowed your brows, hoping you hadn’t been fantasizing through too much of the conversation. “Foxy?”

“That’s my name. Winslow Foxworth Coltrane.”

“I like it. Sounds like an F. Scott Fitzgerald character or something.”

“Who’s that?”

“He wrote The Great Gatsby.”

“Oh yeah, I saw that one, had Redford in it. Kind of a snoozefest if you ask me. I mean, hard to follow up Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” he said. “What kind of movies are you into, Red?”

“I love horror, especially the gory shit,” you said before you could think twice. 

He grinned, giving you a nod of approval. “Right on.”

“My favorite is probably The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Have you seen that one?”

“Yeah, it was great. Reminds me of my family.”

You laughed. “No kidding.”

His smile wavered, and for the first time all night it felt like you two weren’t on the same wavelength. Had you missed something in your half-drunk stupor? Was there something he mentioned that you fantasized through?

“Um, how about you?” you asked, trying to salvage the connection. “Westerns?”

“I’m into the classics, like those old monster movies.”

“Well, you’re way more handsome than Lon Chaney, Wolfman.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m the real deal, baby.”

“I believe it.”

“Yeah?”

You licked your lips. “With a howl like yours? Makes a girl think you could eat her alive.”

“C’mere,” he growled, pulling you to him. 

His lips were on yours, wild and passionate that would keep you up the rest of the night even if nothing else happened. The way he had his hands on you, though, bringing you closer to him, deepening the kiss so you could taste the whiskey on his tongue, the very same he bought you, made you certain he wanted the night to end exactly the same way you did.

He pawed at your ass, his hands pushing up your short, red, satin skirt until your panties peaked out. You moaned when his fingers brushed the wet spot on the fabric, pushing against your clit. Fuck the notion of a getting busy in a back booth, you were ready to let him take you up against the bar if you weren’t so rudely interrupted.

“Hey, c’mon,” the bartender said, looking equally disturbed and exasperated. “You guys can’t—”

Foxy slammed his palm onto the bar, nearby glasses rattling on impact. “Motherfucker, if you don’t get out of my girl’s face I’ll crack your skull open.”

A smile twitched across your lips.

“Get out before I call the cops. Both of you.”

Foxy stood up. “Think I’m scared of some fuckin’ pigs?” Grabbed a nearby beer bottle and smashed it against the bar. Before you could blink, the jagged edge was pressed against the bartender’s throat. If anyone noticed what was going on, they sure as hell weren’t trying to intervene. “By the time they get here I could gut you like a fish.” 

A delirious thrill rolled down your spine at the gleam in Foxy’s eyes. 

“Look man, you—you don’t even have to pay for the drinks. Just go, alright?”

Deathly silence fell over the altercation, the bartender glancing between Foxy’s wild face and the broken bottle.

Do it, a dark, repressed part of you, ravenous for blood, hissed.

Foxy laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, man.” He threw his arm around you, letting the broken bottle shatter on the floor as he led you out.

“Don’t come back!”

“I wouldn’t shit here if I ate a gas station hot dog, asshole,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You pulled your polyester cloak a little tighter when you walked outside. Damn, you and Foxy probably looked like one hell of a pair to the people just getting to the bar.

The two of you stood in the middle of the parking lot while he lit a cigarette. “I don’t eat gas station hot dogs if I can help it. Give me indigestion. My ol’ man—well, adopted ol’ man—he used to make a mean fried chicken at his gas station,” he said, taking a drag. “Get a hankering for the stuff sometimes, and KFC sure as hell doesn’t cut it. Guess Colonel Sanders’ get-up is better than dressing like a clown, though.”

You interjected his rambling, “You would’ve done it, wouldn’t you? The bartender—”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.” He stared you down, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He took a long drag, smoke rolling from his lips and circling above his head as he asked, “You afraid of the big bad Wolfman, Red?”

“Terrified.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then show me.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Mine. Yours. I don’t know—I need you, Foxy.” Your voice neared a whine. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Say that again.”

“I need you.” You tugged on his shirt. “Foxy, c’mon.”

“Yours. I can’t drive at night for shit.”

You grabbed him by the arm, practically pulling him over to your car. 

Jamming the key into the lock, you couldn’t open the driver’s side door fast enough, quickly unlocking the passenger door for him. Your hands would’ve been shaking if you weren’t gripping the steering wheel within an inch of your life as you peeled out of the parking lot the moment he finished adjusting the seat, moving it as far back as it could go to accommodate his long legs. 

“Mind if I turn on the radio?” Foxy asked.

“Sure. I don’t live far, though. Should only be ten minutes.”

He fiddled with the stations until a late night news broadcast mentioned the name Otis Driftwood. He paused before sitting back.

“‘Free the Three’ demonstrations in support of the notorious Devil’s Rejects death cult continue well into the night.”

The reporter detailed the Fireflys’ crimes, as if anyone could have missed them. Hundreds of gruesome murders to their names. You, just like everyone else in America, had been glued to the story when it broke. All work practically came to a halt when their trials were going on, obvious guilty verdicts amidst a media circus.

“What do you think of ‘em?” Foxy asked, breaking the silence.

“The Fireflys?”

“Yeah.”

You glanced at him, tearing your eyes off the road for a moment to gauge how he’d react to your answer. “I guess what they did is fucked up, but the police and military have done way worse. Like, Otis Driftwood never dropped nukes on entire cities,” you said. “Why?”

“That’s my family.”

“Really?”

“Well, Otis is my half-brother. The rest of ‘em are all adopted.”

You looked at him again. Then the road. Then him in disbelief. “Then you—“

“Told you I was the real deal, sweetheart.”

“Why didn’t you get caught?”

“I was already in the can. Crazy how that shit happens, huh?”

You hit the gas, accelerating from 50 to 85 in a flash. No cops. Didn’t matter. Foxy could handle them if there were. You pressed your thighs together. Almost considered pulling over and just fucking in the backseat. But where was the fun in that? The excitement? The vulnerability of letting a killer into your home, where you’re supposed to be safe, and hoping to god he wouldn’t see your kitchen knives and get some bright ideas? You moaned. Oh god. You moaned.

“Red?”

“I know, Foxy. I’m going as fast as I can.” Your voice was whiny, high-pitched, desperate. “Piece of shit car—”

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re nuts.”

“Is that a turn off?”

“Hell no.”

——

You nearly dropped your keys by the time you unlocked the door to your apartment, Foxy feeling you up from behind while you fumbled with them, obviously amused by your racing pulse and trembling hands.

“Cool place,” he said when he walked inside. “You got any roommates or—”

You pushed him against the front door, your mouth on his, desperate, hungry for anything he’d give you. Slipping your hand between your bodies, you cupped the bulge in his jeans. He groaned into your mouth, and you squeezed gently, feeling his cock strain against the rough denim.

“Don’t tease,” he growled.

“It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through.” You kneeled in front of him, moving to untie your cloak while he unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans.

“Wait,” he said, “leave the costume on.”

“Whatever you want, Wolfman.”

He pulled his cock from his boxers, big enough to be intimidating at first glance. But he was a killer, part of the Firefly clan, for god's sake, you wouldn't falter, instead mustering up the courage you had to even invite him home in the first place.

“My, what a big cock you have,” you teased, taking it in your hand, spreading the precum at his tip with your thumb while slowly pumping his length.

“All the better to fuck that pretty mouth with, Red.”

You licked your lips, holding eye contact with him as you took him in your mouth. Something primal about him, inherently dangerous. He’d killed people before, probably done far worse. Could change his mind at any time and cause you a world of hell. You pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the ache in your core for hopes he’d take care of it if you did a good enough job. With the way he dug his fingers into your scalp, loud curses and praises falling from his mouth, you weren’t doing half bad.

“Midnight Wolfman’s got you right where he wants you, huh, Red? Turned you into his little bitch?” he taunted. “C’mon, gimme a howl.”

You whined around his cock, choking a bit when he thrust in your mouth. You liked this version of the story a hell of a lot better. No one to save you. Just you, in your Little Red Riding Hood costume, and the wolf, his crooked teeth bared as he hissed through them, grinning down at you. And you brought him there. Invited him into your home knowing he could tear you apart if he wanted to—maybe you wanted him to.

“You’re a good slut, ain’t you?” He groaned. His cock twitched in your mouth, you could feel the salty taste of him on your tongue as he came with a howl. “Take it all, Red—fuck, take it.” As if you had much of a choice but to swallow, but his praise went to your head, to your pussy. “Fuck, you’re like a dream come true.”

Pulling back, sitting on your heels, you looked up at him with a newfound predatory gleam in your eye as he caught his breath.

“By the way,” you said, acutely aware of the wet ache between your thighs, “I live alone, if you wanna return the favor.”

[tucbilo]

Seagulls lmao

[atomic--peach]

Y'all aren't going to believe what just popped up in my inbox 👀👀👀

[slasherwineaunt]

Slashers as Louise Belcher Quotes

Freddy Krueger: Hello and welcome to Bob's Burgers. The Burger of the day is the Child Molester, it comes with candy. Jason Voorhees: Sorry, I'm saving my spit and blood for my hooneymoon. Hannibal Lecter: I can smell fear on you. Brahms Heelshire: Yeah! Messing with Tina is a privilege, not a right! Leatherface: Your room looks like it was decorated by a perverted jockey. Michael Myers: Yeah she's pubing out real bad. Pinhead: Our gang is called the broken glass kids; we'll cut you. Bo Sinclair: Quiet dignity?! Have you met us?? Vincent Sinclair: Running this restaurant should be easier. We watched mom and dad fail at running it for years! Otis Driftwood: What will it take to get you into this rhino anus today? Norman Bates: You're the worst kind of autistic. Patrick Bateman: I just want to slap his hideous, beautiful face.

[livindeadgirlgrav]

LivinDeadGirlgrav Slasher Masterlist!

Made: June 24 '24

Last Update:

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