#Horror Elements

[steampoweredwerehog]

…

That one room in True Lab has haunted me for 8 years

[navyii-daisy]

Binge watching madness combat, tadc and a bunch of vods sparked a bit of the creativity in me. Here's a doodle page!

ahh, pomni and cyn. ankle breakers. ouch :(

[tragedy-machine]

so a jennifer's body payneland au

Edwin gets sacrificed to a demon by a bunch of bullies, who think he's a virgin, but because he's not he doesn't go to hell, instead he becomes a demonic entity. a very ravenous one. an incubus, yes.

he's still mostly like his old self, just a bit... different

he also transforms from a nerd (used to be more like Needy than Jennifer) into a mainstream hottie, sheds his glasses, sweater vests and hair pomade and opts for more daring and trendy clothing

Edwin also naturally starts eating boys (goodbye thomas, monty, simon and Edwin's and Charles' bullies), basically anyone's on the menu, all to spare his bestie Charles, who he has a homoerotic friendship with

Charles mostly has a problem with Edwin keeping things from him and all of a sudden starting going out with guys (who are not Charles), but he never really liked the boys Edwin's eaten, so he totally understands when he eventually finds out what's going on

in the end Charles volunteers to bite Edwin to turn a bit demonic himself

they run away together and Charles helps Edwin find boys to eat <3

Edwin doesn't count as a virgin sacrifice because:

a) someone already tried sacrificing him before (simon)

b) Edwin and Charles "fooled around" once, a year prior, after a party when both of them were very drunk, and they never talked about it afterwards, just went on being friends like nothing happened, however it definitely counted (or at least all the demons said so!)

[licht-hex]

“ITS GOTTA BE PERFECT”

So I actually got around to watching it and

He’s just like me fr fr (light joke)

[nimbudcat]

Fight fight fight!!

Poor Narinder scared out of his mind and it’s only just started.

Second page of the comic, I’ll try and make a master post for these as I’ll try and drop one a day as I work through the pages I’ve already sketched out.

/First page/2/3/4

[intothedysphoria]

Steve wasn’t sure which was worse. That the nightmares had started again or that Dustin had developed an obsession with Simon and Garfunkel.

Things had consistently been off since 1983 but they’d quickly gotten far, far worse since their latest trip to The Upside Down.

Dustin had brought back an eel. At least Steve thought it was an eel. He hoped it was an eel.

It was in a glass tank above Dustins bed, it had a foul temper and ever since it had entered Hawkins, strange and awful things had started happening to Neil Hargrove.

Steve didn’t feel sorry for the man, he was an asshole.

It was the fruit going bad after two hours on the shelf he was concerned about. The scorch marks on the grass. The nightmares.

It was always the same. There was a boy his age, with golden hair, running through a field. He’d fall deep into a well then Steve would wake up.

The boys name was Billy. Steve wasn’t sure how he knew this. He just did.

The eel started to grow. It had a particular fondness for Cherry Coke and Max for some reason. Why Dustin was feeding it Cherry Coke, Steve had no idea.

The day the eel got too big for its cage was the day Steve had a genuine fear of reliving the Dart situation.

Of course, that coincided with the nightmares getting worse. Well, some of them included him having sex with Billy, so maybe he was having a sexuality crisis. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The well continued to plague his dreams as well. Deep and cavernous, it swallowed Steve time and time again.

There was only one thing for it. Steve was going to talk to the eel.

Maybe dragon was more apt at that point. The eel had grown ten times overnight and stared at him from a roof with clear blue eyes.

Billy’s eyes.

The dreams shifted after that. Billy started talking to him. Really talking to him.

He was eighteen years old, he was Max’s missing older brother and he’d fallen into a cursed well. No he wasn’t really a dragon, no he wasn’t a demogorgon and yes, he was gay.

He gave this delicious little wink to Steve before the dream shattered apart.

Of course the well was a fucking portal to The Upside Down. Steve had no idea what exactly had happened to Billy but he borrowed every single folklore book from the library.

There didn’t seem to be an answer. At least not at first.

There was one book that said Billy needed to be faced with his greatest torment. Only then he could be free.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Neil Hargrove wasn’t exactly smart. It hadn’t taken Steve much work to lure him out into the woods, just a few goads. Just enough to get to the hill that Billy had made his home (much to Dustin’s grumbling disappointment). He was also very loud

Billy took one look at Neil and ripped out his heart.

Then he collapsed, shimmering and shrinking as his body changed into something altogether more human than before.

The eighteen year old that lay before Steve was toned, with golden skin and hair and a tattoo of a skull on one arm.

He blinked at Steve, obviously dazed, then held out a weak hand and an obviously rehearsed smirk.

“Hey sexy, wanna go out sometime?”

Steve would not be held responsible for the tears that started to run down his cheeks.

They did go out. Eventually. Once Billy had healed.

And Steve only found the occasional dragon scale in the shower.

*Loosely based the Northumbrian folktale The Lampton Wyrm and I mean LOOSELY*

For @harringroveobsessed

[maslosstuff]

Seeing a stanked monster for the first time would be so horrific

[veronae-buddie]

Rated M, 24k, Midnight Mass AU. 3 chapters, completed. Written for @buddie-month prompt "Midnight".

Summary:

After causing a car crash with devastating results, Buck moves to an isolated community to rebuild his life. But this island has secrets ...

Check the tags and author notes on this one!

[the-archivist-writes]

Fandom: TMA Michael x GN Reader SFW TW: Horror, blood, stalking, mild self injury, the dark.

Your heart pounded, loud and painful. A drumbeat of fear that rang louder with each thrum of your pulse. The air was so dry you could taste it, stale on your tongue, feeling heavy as you tried to keep calm, keep breathing in time with your footfall. 

Every step you took was measured, calculated as your ears strained in the darkness. Every sense on fire yet dulled by the smothering darkness. You could have sworn that when you stopped you heard the hint of a shuffle, something just off to the side, hiding behind your movements. You couldn’t stand still, the fear of the slinking sound, the radiating closeness of something unknown tickling the hairs that stood to attention across your trembling skin. 

But if you ran, you knew it would be worse. The towering figure’s breath wafted over you. You could feel long, gnarling branches on either side of you, threatening to enclose the moment you let your legs win over your brain. 

Closing your eyes felt better than staring down the deep, dark, endless corridor. A darkness you could control, a sort of safety net that seemed pathetic when you really thought about it.

Everything had changed the moment you opened that strange door, you’d never seen it in your apartment building before. Your curiosity had gotten the better of you. The handle had felt just like any other door in the tower block. 

Why had you stepped in?

You bit your lip, hard, wanting, needing the taste of something to focus on. The bitter copper tang that slicked your mouth brought a strange relief. You walked stepping forward, one, two, three, stop, shffft.

Swallowing thickly you felt yourself breaking. A sob bubbled up, choking you as it slipped ofrom between your aching lips. Despite the dryness in the air you felt tears prick your eyes. You screwed them shut so hard your head ached. 

“There is no time for tears tears.” A voice, higher than you’d have expected from a monster, called from above you. You sucked in stale air between your teeth, filling your lungs with the dense heat that dripped off the walls.

The words, a question, it was trapped in your throat as pin pricks dug into your arms, piercing your clothes. The ‘branches’ gripped harder and pulled you back against the creature. “Oh my dear, we will have suuuuch fun in here together together,” 

“W-why?” you rasped when those arms wrapped around your body, a cage of long, bony fingers. You felt tendrils of curly hair draping and cascading down your face and over your shoulders, the voice was now above you, you could feel the vibrations of its jarring voice rumble down your spine like a thousand tiny needles picking at your flesh.

“Why? Oh, silly, because you opened the door, door, door. Haaaha Hahahah,”

[licht-hex]

What’s up guys [explodes]

[cosmogify]

Schwarz

Uh, this is just me trying to be experimental in writing. Although I still suck at it a bit. The writing is under the cut.

BFs in this drabble fic: WSL!bf (Berry, mine), Yourself around the end (YS, Ochre's version)

CW: EXPLICIT VOMITTING AND BODY HORROR (I think)

It does get better in the end I prommy! :)

Black

Everything was just pitch, charcoal black.

His throat even taste like it, he wanted to puke.

His muscles reflexively gagged, the binding of his jacket made the clogged trachea all the more strangulating. At least he can feel. . .something getting out of his mouth and system.

The dizziness grew stronger with every retch, yet he can't have the solace to hear it. Everything is so, so quiet.

He screamed and wailed, but all that can be heard is a pathetic inaudible wheeze, like a dying dog in an inescapable ditch.

Schatten. . .Schatten- GAGH AGH. . .bitte. . .es tut weh. . . ah AAGH-

He can barely breathe or think right, he can sense every muscle and organ shaking violently, as if it wants to stretch him thin from the inside out, swapping his outsides with it.

His teeth feel like they're forcing his mouth wide apart, his jaw joints were at their breaking point as they were at the teeth's mercy. He can feel even things rushing in and out of the gap, as if the ghosts around him are taking turns playing and ripping his guts for entertainment. His spinning eyes could see those beady stares from the abyss around him, a freaky toy to be entertained by.

He can hear some passing voices of complaint about him, having another psychotic breakdown. . .at least that was what he remembered hearing.

Schatten. . .Schatten wo bist du. .? Wo bist du!? Ich will nicht sterben. . .SCHATTEN-!!

He kept slamming himself into anything that was in his ward, wanting the pain to go away quickly. So far he was only given a temporary numbness before the pain to come back tenfold.

He wanted to cry. Oh, he wanted to cry so badly, yet his eyes didn't seem to think he needs to. His mouth did all the crying for him, but even the liquid coming out of it felt like acid on his skin. Boiling hot skin.

His body twist and bend irregularly, but the jacket wasn't letting it do what it pleases. He was no longer controlling himself, even after all the pleas and begs-

A door opened.

Berry's neck twisted in a way that it shouldn't, his face fully directing towards the sound. A tall figure, Schatten.

It's Schatten, it has to be.

The black liquid that has been dripping down his mouth slowed into a halt on his chin and drabbed clothes. The boy hadn't realized that the figure wasn't the shadow spirit. Far from it. Yet his mind was too far gone at the moment, already barring his stained maw as he made a wild dash at him.

It quickly evaded him, before it picked him up from behind. Kill. . .he needed to kill him. His legs flailed violently at his surroundings, desperately trying to shove whoever suspended him in the air.

The entity didn't budge, instead Berry felt his body being surrounded by something. . .soft. It confused the little boy, but his still continued to attempt to kick the entity. However it slowly grew futile the longer he stayed in the embrace, his muscles soon weakened and sore. His throat no longer felt strangled, and his eyelids were heavy. . .What. . .What was happening?

"Shhh, it's okay now. It's time to rest little guy."

Something. . .Someone was whispering. . .It didn't sound like Helen, her voice isn't that scratchy. . .nor did it sound like Schatten. . .using his own voice against him, nor did it sound this. . .kind. His eyes felt. . .heavy so suddenly. . .

Ich fühle mich. . . so. . . müde. . .

[intothedysphoria]

Steve rebuilds. Eventually.

Things just cracked so easily. After well, everything. All of it. So much death.

Billy just stays the same. Staring at the ceiling. Unblinking.

It’s like the whole world could pass him by and he’d never know.

They’re still boyfriends. Together in name but not really in anything else.

It’s like being trapped, rooted to the spot. Steve can feel the moss growing on them both, covering their stone exterior, but still Billy doesn’t move.

He has hope. Steve’s pretty sure hope is the one thing that can he can never lose. But hope seems so small in the face of time.

Billy might smile at him on days and that keeps Steve going for a month. At least. He’s just so tired now. Exhausted.

They lie in bed together and Steve feels like it can go back to normal. Like things will finally be ok.

But then he wakes up and remembers that Billy is dead.

The thing in his room may look like his boyfriend but it’s not Billy.

Still, Steve has hope. And a plan.

[necroticpixies]

got ghosts in mah brain

on bad nights i really understand trepanning as a practice

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

The First Memory

-----

Tequilla wakes up slowly in the dim morning light, his sibling still fast asleep next to him. It's laying nearly sideways in their bed, clutching a blue bunny stuffie that has been here far longer than he has. Their leg twitches as they dream. He's been happy, living here for this past month.

Has it really only been a month? He feels like there should have been some kind of celebration for that milestone.

He's been getting those faraway feelings for as long as he can remember. Which, admittedly, is not that long. His earliest memory is waking up in that forest all alone, wander for several days foraging for scraps, running and hiding (where did he learn those skills? Who taught him?). He wonders if his memory has always been bad. Poll told him that she hasn't noticed him forgetting anything lately, so maybe he just bumped his head. That's how it goes in the cartoons. You just bump your head a little and get amnesia, right? Then your friends show you something familiar and every memory comes back all at once.

Maybe they've been doing it wrong or something. The child's drawing, the bedroom, even his own grave haven't stirred any memories. Not even the items he's carried in his bag for weeks have stirred anything. Sometimes he considers getting rid of them, they're junk items anyways, but there's a weird gut feeling that makes him feel icky if he tries.

He wishes he knew what happened to them. He hopes they know he's okay. They seemed to care about him.

He wishes he missed them.

Tequilla paws at his eyes and sniffles. He's got to be the big kid now.

His mind feels fuzzy from sleep, eyes bleary.

From the kitchen, a voice emerges, loud and happy and full of love.

"Tequilla, my little peanut, come get your breakfast!"

Carefully, he slides out of bed. Poll's papa doesn't make breakfast very often, so this must be a special treat. Maybe it's for that celebration? He really feels like a month is cause for celebration.

The click of his claws on the hardwood echos in his mind as he pads down the hallway. The light from the windows startles him temporarily, and he rubs at his eyes to make the feeling go away. "Stardust," he mumbles, "what d-did you make for br-breakfast?"

...

He blinks a few times at what he's seeing.

There's a woman in the kitchen. Her curly brown hair cascades down her face and up into a bun, held up by a ribbon bow. Her face is full and wonderful, with golden eyes and large curling horns adorning her head. Her ears droop like his, but with soft brown fur on the inside and outside. Her outfit is overwhelmingly pink, consisting of a large poofy dress with many layers of tule and puffy short sleeves, frills decorating the ends of the sleeves and collar. Around her waist, nestled under her breast, is a large pink ribbon. Her feet are bare, but her wrists are adorned with large golden bands. She's a fat woman, something she always took pride in. She's only a few inches shorter than Dad.

"M..." Tequilla reaches out towards her, taking a short step forward.

She smiles and laughs, extending her hands out in an offering of a hug. "C'mere baby."

"M-momma!" He sobs, running to her with reckless abandon, burying his face in her plush dress.

She hugs him close and wipes the tears from his eyes. "What's wrong baby? Did you have a nightmare?"

Tequilla nods, leaning into her hand. "Momma I mmissed you s-s-so m-much." He struggles to speak through his sobs.

She tuts, crouching down to his level. He feels like a hatchling again, crying over breaking his marker by accident. "I'm not going anywhere, peanut."

"Wh-where did you go? Why can't I ffind you?" He asks through tears.

She cups his face. "I haven't gone anywhere, baby, I'm right here. That must have been some nightmare you had, huh?"

"I guess." He mumbles. "Where's... Wh-where's..." He trails off.

"C'mon golden boy, I've got your breakfast over here." She pats his shoulders, stands up, and pulls him along behind her.

He looks around the room, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Everything feels tilted in his mind's eye, slightly too bright. Too saturated.

"Momma? Where's... Wh..." His tail wraps around his leg. "Why can't I remmember their n-names? Why can't I r-remember their f-faces? What happened to mme, Momma? Where did I g-go?" He shakes her arm, tugs on her dress, does anything to get her to turn around and look at him.

Finally she turns around, a gentle smile on her lips. Her face is obscured now, like it's been scrubbed away by a sponge and covered over with marker. The bright world around him peels and bleeds away like an old painting, leaving just him and the woman in a dark void.

He hugs her tightly, eyes closed so he doesn't see what used to be her face. She strokes his hair as everything melts away.

Slowly, the world around him returns. He can feel the tears streaming down his face, the cold tile under his claws, the lights of the early morning. He squeezes tighter onto whatever he's holding onto.

What is he holding ont-

Tequilla jolts back, looking up at a concerned Stardust. His eyes catch onto their goatlike horns.

His cheeks burn. "S-s-ss-s-s-" He covers his mouth. "S-sorry, Stardust," he says with a little more concentration. "I d-d-don't know what that was."

It looks at him in the same way it looks at Poll when it communicates.

"S-sorry, I still can't understand you. I'll-I'll go wake up Poll."

Stardust grabs his hand, stopping him in his tracks. It holds his hand between two of it's own. It presses his hand against his heart, and it's own where a human heart would be.

He hasn't figured out how to understand Poll's papa yet, but it's meaning seems clear.

"Th-thankss, D- Stardust."

He walks back to the bedroom, tracing the markings on his arms.

[sitp-recs]

Hey there! Hope you've been doing well :) I wanted to ask if you had any recommendations for drarry fics with horror elements?? tysmm <3

Hi anon! Sure thing - I don’t usually go for hardcore horror but these are fics with horror elements that I’ve really enjoyed:

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

And So Death Took by ICMezzo (E, 25k)

Fairy tales may soothe small children into slumber, but some stories themselves refuse to sleep. The Tale of Three Brothers, retold.

Memory Lane by Selden (T, 31k)

When memories from the war start surfacing in unexpected places, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy find themselves spending a surprising amount of time inside each other’s heads.

In Our Blood by secretsalex (E, 38k)

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

find a new place to be from by oflights (E, 47k)

Something is wrong with Malfoy Manor, and it’s driven Draco into the Muggle world. Thankfully, Harry is now on the case. A story about houses that haunt you and homes built for two.

What Shall Not Be Unearthed by iero0 (E, 49k)

At the northernmost point of Shetland, surrounded by pointed cliffs, towers the Ootsta Lighthouse on a small isle in the middle of the open sea. Little does Harry know that he's not the only new lighthouse keeper. Draco Malfoy is as obnoxious as he always was, with his posh tone of voice and his luxury yacht jumpers. Harry tries his best to avoid the git—who knows what he's up to anyway?

Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 127k)

After a serious accident in the Forbidden Forest, Draco's personality begins to undergo subtle changes. At first, Harry credits this to a new enthusiasm for life. But as the days pass and Draco's behavior becomes more and more mysterious, Harry begins to suspect that something bigger--and darker--is at work.

Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren (E, 135k)

Harry Potter was convinced he had an ordinary, if inconvenient, life. Then Ron and Hermione vanished in the Department of Mysteries. And the only person who may know where they are is a mute Draco Malfoy.