#Horror excerpt

[feral-ballad]

Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, from Rien ne va plus

[Text ID: “—Every time I want to write, I want to write love stories. But as soon as I pick up the pen I’m overcome by horror.”]

[joandelahaye]

Dive into Darkness: Thriller Sale, Black Dahlia Mystery, and More!

Hello, my Freaky Darlings! Greetings from a once again chilly arse-end of Africa — because apparently, Mother Nature decided we were getting too comfortable. She unleashed her inner polar bear, and now we’re stuck shivering like penguins in a desert. In the realm of news, it’s been the BRICS summit extravaganza non-stop. It’s as thrilling as watching paint dry. Oh, but guess what? The Chinese…

[katabay]

PAGLUIB

way back in like. march?? I took a stab at writing some kind of kabitserye type of story but it was a mess: it kept veering off into murder mystery drama territory because I was reading a lot of murder mystery novels around then and it Wasn't Good because I hadn't tried writing mysteries, let alone murder mysteries, before lmao

I did write a handful of short mystery stories since then, so next year I might take a stab at this idea again now that I'm no longer jumping head first into a genre pool I don't know how to swim in :)

[odraziduse]

The Amazing Devil, The Horror and The Wild

[spider-artdump]

[clegfly]

Hi. Throws small self indulgent “mari actually IS something and after the true ending is able to get with hero via cleg logic I can’t be bothered to explain in a short funny description and oh god this is too long” au at you and runs into the woods

[lttledog]

Excerpt from A Certain Hunger, written by Chelsea G. Summers.

[thismustbeso]

Kirei? The Terror of Beauty (2004), Katsuya Matsumura / I Will Tell this Story to the Sun Until You Remember that You are the Sun, Erin Slaughter / Friday the 13th Part 2 (1981), dir. Steve Miner

[tendermimi]

psychosexualism in tom à la ferme (2013) / michel-marc bouchard ‘tom a la ferme’, sonya vatmosky ‘pseudomonarchia lacrimae’, ocean vuong ‘no one knows the way to heaven’, richard siken ‘little beast’

[lesangsaint]

Speeches for Dr Frankenstein, Margaret Atwood

[derangedrhythms]

Georg Trakl, Poems and Prose: Poems from Der Brenner 1914/5; from 'The Thunderstorm', tr. Alexander Stillmark

[doyouknowthisbook-poll]

Do you know which book this is from?

Please reblog the polls, but KEEP IT SPOILER-FREE to make people read the excerpt with an open mind 💖📚 Title and author will be revealed after the poll's conclusion.

Edit: The results are up here!

[hanzajesthanza]

like, i do love cahir when he's introduced, and we get to know him and his character, but also, if i was geralt, and i heard this from my little girl:

i would also beat this guy's ass into the ground and want to kill him so so badly. like this is ciri's nightmare but this is also a parent's worst nightmare

[multi-lefaiye]

snippet sunday - sunbringer's song

WOOOOO wowie wow wow!!!! okay, yeah, i am *very* close to finishing the prologue, but it's not quite done. but!! i wanted to share a bit of what i've gotten done for snippet sunday.

(or should i say... sunbringer sunday........ yeah i'll see myself out.)

content warnings for this excerpt: eye trauma, worms, worms going in someone against their will. y'know, bg3 prologue things. the actual gore isn't described in a lot of detail, but it's still very visceral because i'm focusing heavily on what eden is *feeling* in the moment. if any of that is an issue, please tread lightly !

writing / eden's fanclub taglist: @vacantgodling @skitzo-kero @anexor @chaieyestea @invaderskoodge

@kk7-rbs @albatris @corvus-rose @paradoxspir1t @moonflowerrss

@astral-runic @yourlocal-lichen @void-botanist

A worm--a terrible, spiny creature, hissing and writhing in the mind flayer’s grasp. It snaps its jaws full of jagged teeth, and the freezing dread in his veins splinters as his heart leaps into his throat.

For what feels like several long, agonizing hours, the mind flayer lowers the worm down toward his face. He struggles, in vain, to jerk his head away, but whatever force is keeping his eye open holds him firmly in place. There’s nothing he can do.

A heartbeat passes, and the worm is on his face, his skin itching at the feeling of its claws.

Another, and it rears up, snapping its teeth as it drools in frantic anticipation.

And then, it dives into his open eye.

Half of his vision explodes, bloody and hot and agonizing like nothing he has ever felt before. He can’t see what’s happening, but he can feel every stab of the little monster’s teeth and pinprick claws as it rips into him. It’s a million fire-tipped needles slicing and tearing open his flesh, burrowing into his skull.

He wants so badly to scream, but no sound comes out as he thrashes about in his coffin. But the mind flayer is still holding him in place, watching him impassively as he bites back pained sobs.

Some time passes, he can’t be sure how long, but eventually his vision begins to clear, bit by bit. His head is throbbing anew and his sight is blurry and streaked with red, but it seems the worm has come to a stop, resting just behind his eye.

He lets out a shuddering, whimpering breath, then bares his teeth and looks back up at the mind flayer. It’s still watching him. All he wants is to claw those beady fucking eyes out of its skull, to make it hurt like it’s making him hurt, but he still can’t move.

“Fuck you,” he bites out, each word a ragged clot of blood and glass shards in the back of his mouth. The mind flayer does not react. After a moment, it waves its hand, severing whatever strings held him in place, and he falls limply back into his coffin, his left eye snapping shut reflexively.

Another wave of its hand, and the lid closes with another hiss.

[beachyserasims]

In this house, a little girl hunts diligently for every and any shoelace she can find, stringing them together along the knobs of her closet door. The will of this child has sealed it shut so that this closet will never be opened again. What stays inside, remains... unseen.

Start / Next

[slashingdisneypasta]

Otis B Driftwood x Reader || Excerpt

Plot: Just a moment after he tells you he's gonna keep you around. Not a whole lotta context 😅

Warnings: It's Otis B Driftwood. I don't even know where to start 😅

Otis' lips leave your lips feeling hot and bruised. The taste of metal remains on your tongue, forced there by his smothering kiss. His fingers leave a dirty smudge on your jaw as he roughly let's you go and stands up to his full height while you remain, sat on the bed. "Yeah... I think I'm gonna keep you, doll. Oh- I'm definitely gonna keep you."

"I hate you." You snap at him with his grimy sheets fisted in your clenched fingers; every bit of fury and disgust you felt looking at him cooking in your words. And everything else, too. The fear, the horror, the other things that you haven't thought about. That you're afraid to.

Otis doesn't seem too bothered by what you say though, a grimy smirk flickering across his face along with a chuckle. Your words change nothing, for him. You dont matter, not like that. You matter, your being here with him; his secret toy all for himself; but your opinions? What you want? Eh, not important. He shakes his head, strolling off to a chest of drawers. You're also wrong, he thinks, pulling out a nasty looking serrated knife. But whatever. You'll figure that out, eventually.

Your heartbeat jumps to life inside your chest, pounding inside your body, screaming to fly out and take off.

That doesnt stop you from spewling, though. You don't want him to know how scared of him you are, how terrified. ... He thinks that's real fucken cute. "You're an evil freak. If you think I want to stay here, you're out of your mind- "

"Obviously I'm out of my fucking mind. Look at me. Do I look sane to you??"

He turns around, the knife in his strong hand pointed downwards. Tucks it into the back of his jeans causing you to grimace. "Anyway," He shrugs, leaning back to pick up a beer can that's been on that dresser for who-knows-how long and take a swig so that some dribbles down the corner of his mouth. He wipes it with the back of his hand and drops the now empty can on the carpet; crushing it under his boot on his way back to you.

When he sits down close beside you, so your hips and your arms brush together making you shiver, he leans in so you can smell his metallic, now stale beer addled breath and tucks some of your hair ever-so-gently behind your ear making you wince this time. He's being too soft with you, and the thick material band around his wrist is damp and stinks. You also can't stop thinking about the jagged knife in the ass of his jeans. Surely he's getting cut, sitting with it like that?? Doesn't he care????

No, of course not.

"You hate me, huh?... " He whispers, smirking like he knows something you-fucking-dont. Which is infuriating. "... well, maybe. Probably. Whatever. But hey- " He leans in so close you can taste his breath, and try not to gag. "I think you're gonna like it here, baby. Eventually."

"What???" How could he possibly think- After he took you and killed your friends-

"We'll turn you crazy over time. A regular part of the family. Then you'll like it here." With a taught smile, he leans down and presses a hot, rough, open-mouthed kiss to your exposed neck; licking your skin and sucking like he couldn't help himself from getting a taste, before looking back up at your face again. "Then you'll admit y'want me. Promise."

Then he flashes a quick smile, and leaves the dank, messy room. Locks it behind him.