#oc slasher

[frog-cultist]

Small doodle of Billy lenz with my slasher oc John Doe

Cw for bloodied/raw meat face(John doesn’t have a face but it’s not medically accurate just kinda like raw steak looking)

Since it’s November might as well return to my roots and draw a silly billy + my slasher oc, I love him a lot

[vosveti]

My slasher oc trying on some new masks

[cupiditas-and-ao3]

How about:

13) being snowed in together and fucking in front of the fireplace

For any slasher of your choice! 😊

I gift unto you my friend, an OC Slasher fit for Hallmark (or something) with a final girl worthy of at least 3 sequels

Content warning: dub con, murder (its a slasher fic, slasher gonna slash), she/her reader with vagina and breasts, spanking, blood (again slasher fic) and implied voyeurism/exhibitionism and cheating

It was supposed to be a little vacation. Just you and your friends in your boyfriend's cabin. Or rather his parent's cabin. He insisted you invite your best friend. She invited the guy who was hopelessly in love with her. 4 was a party. Couldn't have an uneven balance of guys and girls right?

There was a hot tub and a bar full of alcohol and a light drifting of snow to look forward to. Until everyone was playing truth or dare in the hot tub, clothes were removed, and suddenly your best friend and your boyfriend looked awful cozy together. The snow was coming down too hard for you to try and drive home, hell you'd all barely made it here in your boyfriend's truck.

You started to feel sorry for the guy your friend invited. He looked sick as he got out of the hot tub, pale like he was gonna hurl. As he got all the way out you couldn't help notice that he was at full mast. Of course your boyfriend noticed too, and it was his jeering that made you think about walking home through the snow.

"Don't pick on him," your friend giggled. "He can't help it, watching me with you gets him hot and bothered."

You snapped your head back to look at her. "What the fuck do you mean watching you with him?"

She had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment before a scream came from inside the cabin.

You didn't think too hard before you ran. Didn't listen to the hand wrapped around your wrist before you bolted towards the noise.

The sight that greeted you was... grizzly. The poor guy, whose name you never really remembered, was more insides than outsides, splattered against the wall. There wasn't any sign of whatever killed him. Only the blood.

You heard a shuffling behind the hall door. In a moment of desperation and sudden mania you threw open the door to see an empty hallway.

You ran.

It was hours later, running from every noise, running to every scream, that you finally saw him. He stood over your best friend in the dining room. The huge fireplace that just last year you had curled up in front of with your boyfriend (dead in the bedroom, your bestfriend's underwear stuffed in his mouth) roared with a flame that made you sweat the moment you entered the room.

The man - monster - murderer - lifted the wood chopping axe that the poor butler (hung in the wine cellar, red dripping from his lips) had used to chop wood. It hung in the air just high enough for the shadow to fall flickeringly across you and just long enough for you to whip your eyes away.

And then sticky wet fingers, thick and callused and muscled, gripped your chin.

"Is that what you wanted?" A gruff voice you barely recognized. Gravelly in the way that a slashed throat poorly healed broke through a once musical voice.

Tears streamed from your eyes while you shook your head, limited by the grip on your jaw.

"Yes it was," the voice growled. "Don't lie to me."

He pulled you by the chin, your feet scrabbling against the hardwood floor as he brought you to stare at the girl you'd known for your entire life.

"You wanted her to scream. You wanted to hear it. You wanted them all to scream."

You flinched as the axe blade brushed against your arm. Sticky and warm and wet and cold and metallic. Goosebumps typed messages of fear across your arms. You crossed them, eyes squeezed shut against the painting of gore, as you rubbed warmth into yourself. You were still sweating from the fireplace.

"Get out," you hissed.

"Couldn't even if I wanted to, sweetheart," his voice was harsh against your cheek, the scratch of stubble no gentler.

He turned you to face the window. You felt the chill of the outside even through the sweater you'd found. Running for your life in a sweater was slightly better than running naked.

He pressed your chest against the cold window pane, the glass sending shocks through you as you gasped and flicked open your eyes. Snow up to your eyes, just a few feet below the top of the floor to ceiling window frame, with thick snowflakes still adding to the pile. And transparent before it a reflection ghosted over the view. A strong arm, thick rippling muscles, pressing a hand to the back of your neck and pushing you forward so your chest met glass. Broad shoulders, wider than you by enough to make you feel small for once barely contained in an unbuttoned flannel over a blood smeared tank top. Jean covered hips that pressed into your ass as he watched you look his reflection up and down. Your reflection up and down. Your nipples pebbling under the sweater, the hem riding up to show the silvery stretchmarks on your thighs, the flush on your face. His cocked eyebrow and crooked smirk as he met your eyes in the reflection.

"It's turned into quite the blizzard. Neither of us is 'getting out' no matter how cute you look when you're angry," he ground his hips into your ass and pressed his nose to the bundle of your hair he held against your neck.

"Shit, you smell like him," he ground out.

A stinging slap landed on your ass.

You cried out, pressed your bare ass back against the bulge in his jeans, against the hand smoothing out the sting on your skin.

"Gonna have to fix that, princess," he laughed.

He dragged you by your hair to the bearskin rug in front of the fire place. Sweat dripped down your back, under your boobs, and blood coated his boots as he trudged through the mess just a few feet away. He pressed you into the ground, ass up in the air and chest against the rug (you fucking hated that rug) facing away from the scene of the crime you'd been party to.

"Gonna make you sweat off the smell of him," he lifted the hem of your sweater.

You rubbed your thighs together, the slick of arousal starting to drip in an uncomfortable show. He pried them apart, spreading you like opening a book to a well loved chapter.

"I've been dreaming of your sweet pussy," he groaned.

In the instant before you responded he wrapped his lips against your dripping hole and pressed his tongue flat against it. You bucked and cried out as he lovingly made out with your pussy, drawing cries of pleasure from you. You screamed for him, for the way he spread you and devoured you. For the way his fingers circled your clit until you were bucking into your orgasm. And then he grabbed your hair and you moaned at the loss of his tongue on you only to find him pulling your head back and shoving his tongue into your mouth. You tasted your pleasure on him, the scent of it lurid and naughty and more than you could handle. You crumbled apart in his hold as one arm kept you supported. You heard his other hand undoing his zipper. Sweat pooled at your lower back, the smell of sweat and sex filling the room more than the fire and faint smell of blood. Almost enough to make you forget. And then he was pressing the warm tip of his cock against your needy pussy and you really did forget anything else. He slid inside of you beautifully, easing gently into you until he was buried to the hilt. The pressure of him stretching you, filling every inch of you, nearly broke you into an orgasm again. And then he started to fuck you. He held your hips hard, fingers bruising into the soft cushion of fat as he slammed your ass back against him. You screamed as he thrust, begged him to go harder, deeper, faster, until he was growling like an animal bent over you. His teeth buried into your shoulder as he groaned your name into your skin. You felt your eyes roll back as he kept going, kept slamming into you in a frenzy. You felt on the edge of consciousness as he slammed and shuddered, spilling hot cum inside of you.

You shuddered under him as he collapsed forward with you. His chest plastered to your back, his cock still buried inside of you. You felt the stiffness of his arms, holding some of his weight off of you. You felt the exhaustion seeping into you.

"That's better. Now you smell properly fuckable."

It took a moment for the implication to set in. Almost as soon as you realized what he meant, he pulled out of you and grabbed you roughly by the hips. He flipped you onto your back, staring up into the face of a murderer as he started to fuck you again.

"Don't give up on me now, sweetheart. We're snowed in at least for the weekend."

[grimmzin]

Here's some chart of the boys ╰⁠(⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠╯

Don't be shy to ask about them either (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ 💜

Fun Fact: Terry loves dressing up as a cat maid from time to time 😺

Fun Fact: Kevin hates his huge burn mark but ever since Y/N told him that it makes him look cooler, he stopped trying to get rid of them.

Fun Fact: Garfield loves pigs. Besides eating them, he likes to have them as pets. He used to have a girl named Polly for years until he had to eat her.....

Fun Fact: Royce enjoys cooking but when he's depressed, he'll make a whole family of 4 worth of food. Making him have leftovers for a whole month.

[lorinstella]

"Koneko boy"

this guy with the cat mask is called daiki, so he's practically a talking cat sksksksk

[phahadhcss]

So, let's talk about the beautiful clown AU. I'm by no means abandoning it, it's just that after the release of chapters 3 and 4, it will be on hold for a while, maybe a month. I'm in the middle of my final exam prep period now, so I won't be able to write anything for the whole of June. I still love this absurd ship and want to further develop their story, maybe even do something else on it, but because there will be some pretty creepy and gruesome parts of the story, I, with a full head of exams, just can't take it. Anyway, thank you for your understanding and anticipation!

[bunnygirllover45]

Happy Friday the 13th here's my slasher oc. silly guy.

[nobitchs-world]

Me: I love horror movie slashers

My scary ass if I ever saw them:

[multific]

Motherhood

Yautja x Reader

Summary: After you gave birth to your son, it took you some time to get used to having a half-Yautja and half-human. 

You felt sore all over. 

You moved against the fur but your whole body felt sore.

You could hear your mate’s soft breathing, it immediately made you feel at ease.

Yet, something felt out of place.

As you stirred from your sleep, you sat up in your bed and looked around. Everything looked normal, except for one thing.

The little child who used to be under your heart was now in a crib beside you. 

You looked at your mate, sleeping soundly beside you.

He got used to sleeping with you to the point where he didn’t even care anymore if you moved or woke up. 

It wasn’t always like that.

He often woke up with you when he took you into his home, but he got gradually used to you being with him.

You moved over to the crib, leaving the warmth of your bed, you stood up and got your son out of his crib.

It was a little strange to call him your son, after all, he looked nothing like you.

He looked like a pure Yautja, except for his eyes, his eyes were yours.

He wasn’t sleeping when you lifted him out of his crib, instead, he was watching, learning.

You ignored all the pain in your body as you moved out of the bedroom and into what you would call a kitchen.

You got yourself a glass of water as you sat down on one of the chairs. With your child in your arms, you moved him so you could see his face.

He laid in your lap.

“Will you never cry?” But your Baby had no reply. Of course, he didn’t he wasn’t even a day old. You watched him as his eyes wandered from your eyes to your chest and hands. 

You held a finger out to him, which caught his attention and he immediately grabbed it.

He continued to watch your finger as you smiled.

This little moment reminded you that even if he looked like a Yautja, he was still a baby.

Your baby.

This little boy in your lap was not so long ago in your stomach.

It was crazy to think about.

Your house felt a little too quiet, usually you were never up without your mate. So, this felt a little strange. 

You looked at your son.

“How am I supposed to feed you?” You said as you lifted him, trying to see if he was hungry or not. He was, you didn’t know how, but you could tell.

You pulled your nightgown down and you didn’t know how, but he was a natural.

You watched as he fed. 

He truly didn’t feel like your son. You looked after so many Yautja babies when you joined their tribe, this felt almost like one of those moments.

Except for the feeding part. Only a mother can feed their child.

And your son was no exception.

While he was born into a very high place in the hunting tribe, he was still your son. 

A highly anticipated member.

Your Mate was the right had of the tribe leader, a high position with lots of responsibilities.

One of which was to bring a son into the world.

Which you just managed to do.

You had a pregnancy which left your body sore and your mate feared the worst, but thankfully, you were able to give birth without any major issues.

And now, here you were, holding him and feeding him.

Your thumb ran down his little cheek, right next to where his mandibles were.

“You are beautiful.” You smiled and the child just kept looking at you.

Once he finished eating you pulled your gown back and pulled him to your chest, laying him down.

Did Yautja babies even burp?

Guess you will find out soon.

He did burp.

A small little burp.

And soon, he was off again.

You got up from the chair and headed back to the bedroom.

You got in, the fire was still going, but now, your mate was up.

He looked at you then at your son in your arms.

“He was hungry.” You said as you put him back into his crib before climbing back on the furs.

You let out a long yawn before getting under the covers. 

Your mate made a sound before laying back down himself. You lay down closer to him as he pulled you closer.

Maybe it was a difficult thing to give birth to a Yautja baby. Maybe it was difficult being married to one as well.

But you loved them both with all of your heart and that was enough, more than enough.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[junkmixart]

This is why final girls and slashers shouldn’t sit at the same lunch table 🍱🔪

[frog-cultist]

Idk what these twos dynamic is but I’m loving it

[sleep-0-deprived]

Bottom Yandere slasher x final boy male reader head cannons~! ૮ ོ≧ ⩊ ≦ ོ𑁬

blowjobs, knife play, degrading, large bottom, small top ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

You were out and about camping on a little trip with your friends when he first had seen you, staring and blinking over at you like a frog. Something inside his cold body came back to life like a zombie breathing air once again. He had to have you and he would have you no matter what he had to do or who he had to clear. Taking you in the middle of the night after dealing with your friends, he’d have you dragged back to his cabin and just stare at your sleeping form for hours.

He’d blink over at you blushing under his mask obsessing over your every muscle and your short frame, you woke up screaming shouting any sort of insult just trying to escape only to fail each time with him frowning and locking you back up in his bedroom. “I’m not your fucking pet you big idiot! You can’t keep me!” You’d shout at him angrily but he’d only tilt his head as though he didn’t understand what you were speaking to him but he did understand you were upset by the tone you were using.

The slasher would keep you for months, he’d feed you and cling to you leaving you never alone because he was by your side each and every hour of the day. His arms held you in a bone crushingly tight spooning position in bed leaving you conflicted on how you could fall for a man like him? Maybe you were in live or maybe it was all the stressful hormones combined with the built up Stockholm syndrome that had you all over him by the end of the second month.

The first time you had sex with him was during your most recent escape, you found his knife, you tried to attack him from behind but with his tall stature you failed only having him on top of you pinning you to the ground. not before you shoved the knife against him threatening him going feral in anger. The hard feeling beneath you is what brought your mind to a clearer thinking. He was hard, how could he possibly be hard in a situation like this? You just tried to kill him and make your escape “are you seriously fucking hard right now? You’re a horny gain arent’cha!” You’d mock him feeling a smile creeping on your face.

Not even thirty minutes later you’re completely stripped holding him up on top of you with your hand shakily holding the knife to his thigh only grunting when he lifts himself up and down on your cock “o-oh shit, wasn’t expecting this” the slasher is even more infatuated with you at this point, the size of your cock had him intimidated at first when he seen a proud seven and a half— eight inches when hard cock looking at him for the first time since this was his first sexual encounter, shockingly sex wasn’t common for a crazed serial killer.

After that moment on the kitchen floor of his cabin this man’s silent and cold demeanor shifts into more, you fucked him into being domestic, wanting to make you happy trying to get you to want to willingly stay with him even if it means he had to please you. His face in your balls with his knife thrown to the ground while he attempts to give you a blow job “c’mon you can take a little more right, you’re a big man so shove it a little down that throat” you couldn’t help but be cruel to him with your hand gripping the rubber backing of his mask and forcing his face down on your crotch reminding him that while he kidnapped you, he lacked all his control when you were in the mix.

When you finally come around to the slasher, you’re grueling with him in sex, your arms would wrap around his body jerking your hips harshly between his thighs fucking him like a manic and pulling his mask back making him groan feeling more exposed and vulnerable before you, “are all serial killers preening sluts?” You couldn’t help but just egg him, not when you felt his walls gripping you back every time you spoke them making you a mess burying your face into his chest heaving and moaning on top of him fucking him like you need it.

[morbid-muse-art]

Happy Friday the 13th

[wyervan]

slasher au doodle dump! I’m having so much fun with these idiots. also tho i try not to info dump too much about the AU cause i worry that im annoying and no one cares but your guy’s questions and comments mean the absolute world to me and I’m so happy you’re curious about them 🥺

dw i WILL be answering your asks—im just slow going.

couple more under the cut but cw for blood and maaaaaaaybe suggestive but I’m also just easily flustered

[grimmzin]

Still can't show much but I feel that y'all should at least meet Y/N best friend since elementary school.

I like you all to meet Terry Robinson in the up coming game:

"Something wrong with Terry"

Will be posting more information later in the weeks ahead about him OwO

[lorinstella]

I made another drawing of Ramy and this is him in his killer outfit