#horror masterpieces

[goryhorroor]

thank you to walt peregoy for making scooby doo where are you! even more memorable as a child

[zu-is-here]

coming soon ♪

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

love how Solar Opposites started out as a sitcom about two aliens who can't stand each other, stuck with their teenage clones (whom they also can't stand) & a toddler antichrist (whom they view as a sort of self-sufficient free-roaming hamster?) on a stupid planet they can't stand

and 4 seasons later it's a sitcom about a family of genderqueer aliens, headed by a gay couple in a happy & horny open marriage (with a graphic off-screen sex life, despite their canonical lack of genitalia?) teaching themselves to be okay parents to their 3 kids (whose Sci-Fi Antics now slightly-less-frequently revolve around wreaking havoc on human bystanders, and slightly-more-frequently revolve around alien-clone-sibling-bonding*), to the point that the central plot point becomes "We need to provide our toddler antichrist with a stable home environment."

(also the grumpy alien husband is too busy ingratiating his family with their suburban neighbors to even remember whom or what he dislikes. what is this show)

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

VINCENT PRICE//

THE MAD MAGICIAN (1954)

[weirdlookindog]

Jessica Harper in Suspiria (1977)

[horygory]

The Shining (1980)

[aarontveit]

IDLE HANDS | 1999 dir. Rodman Flender

As usual, marijuana saves another, otherwise, disastrous day.

[gods-scaredest-jammer]

drew him in honor of getting my shit wrecked in soul of roses. copies in my den for 6 diamonds ☺

[emborami]

Hi so in case anyone was dying to know, this is what i think some of the cast of the terror would look like as animals :3 notes under cut

From left to right:

Crozier- Irish Terrier

Silna- Polar Bear

Goodsir- ryeland sheep (known for tasty mutton ;3)

Hickey- red fox

Franklin- old english game rooster

Fitzjames- red deer

I had fun coming up with them :) and I kinda wanna doodle some screencaps but with like a lil short sheep goodsir and his bestie the giant polar bear lady silence whom he thinks would love England. Or like hickey on his bullshit but with more flair bc he would have a fox body and tail to really fuck up that line of action

Anyways heres some closeups and sketches

[vulpine-spectacle]

Screaming into my pillow because if TikTok had been around when Crimson Peak came out, I guarantee it would've gotten the same attention as Nosferatu

[uspiria]

Bride of Chucky (1998) dir. Ronny Yu

[goryhorroor]

art of junji ito

[thebroken--soul]

That shot on Immaculate ? 10/10

[polydeuces]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔: 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖇𝖞𝖘𝖘

𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; As the city’s shadows seems to conspire around him, you reappear, offering answers and something far more dangerous: understanding. Faced with your presence, Dexter begins to question if he can keep pretending.

𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (921 words) Themes of psychological manipulation, morally gray dynamics, and tension. Includes mentions of stalking and emotional vulnerability.

𝔞 / 𝔫 ; thank you so much for the immense support and encouragement on this story. it means the world to me, keep up the comments and notes !! you keep me inspired. seriously.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

The days following his encounter with you were a haze for Dexter. He replayed your conversation over and over, your twisted words echoing in his mind, daring him to go further, to step deeper into a world he didn’t yet understand. You had promised answers, hinted at something he both craved and feared. He wasn’t used to this—the pull of another person, the feeling that someone could see right through him.

Late one night, he found himself back in the same place he had first met you. His instincts told him this was a mistake, brag he was letting himself be led into a trap. And yet, the part of him that longed for understanding kept him rooted to the path, moving forward through Miami’s shadowed streets.

The city seemed quieter than usual, almost holding its breath. Every sound felt amplified: his footsteps against the pavement, the faint hum of streetlights, the distant siren waiting as a he passed through silent alleyways. Then, almost as if by fate, he saw you again, leaning against the side of a crumbling brick building, arms crossed, waiting for him.

“Back so soon?” you asked, lips curling into that enigmatic smile.

“I am here for answers,” Dexter replied, feeling a chill run down his spine. “Who are you, really?” And what do you know about me?”

You turned to face him, your gaze steady, piercing. “My name is not important. And as for what I know.. I am a collector of secrets, Dexter.”

Your words cut through the night, mysterious yet tantalizing, he found himself unwillingly drawn closer. “Why would you seek me out?”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “Because you and I are alike. We both see the world for what it is—a place that needs us, people who can do what others refuse to do. I knew the moment I saw you that we were connected.”

A feeling of wariness consumed Dexter, “Connected how?” he asked. There was something dangerous about her, something he couldn’t ignore.

“I have dedicated my entire life to uncovering the potential in people. There are those who hide in the shadows and those who embrace them.” you continue. “You, Dexter, were born to embrace them,” your voice barely a whisper, as if letting him in of a secret.

He narrowed his eyes, figuring the pull of your words. “You think I’d join some cult of yours?”

You smiled with an all knowing expression. “I’m not asking you to join, I’m simply offering you a glimpse into something larger. A place where you are understood, where your urges are celebrated.”

For the first time, Dexter felt himself falter. What you said stirred something inside him—a curiosity mixed with the undeniable desire to finally be seen. His life has been an endless game of hiding in plain sight, of pretending to fit in a world where he didn’t belong. Now, here you were offering him something different, something that hinted at freedom.

“Why do you want me?” Dexter’s voice was quiet, almost vulnerable.

“That I have told this once before, I know who you really are, Dexter.” you say, soft yet sharp enough to draw blood. You reach out, your fingers barely brushing his shoulder, a tough as light as a whisper, both cold and electric, sparking something he can’t name. “And because I can show you what you’re truly capable of. The others, they have found freedom. They’re waiting waiting for you”

His breath shudders, his composure cracking. He’s a man who’s spent his life pretending, wearing masks that no longer fit. You see it, the flicker in his eyes, the pull of curiosity warring with the instinct to turn and walk away. He doesn’t know yet if he’s afraid of you, if he’s afraid of how much he wants to listen.

You step back, slowly, deliberately. The sound of your boots on the pavement fills the air, each step like a ticking clock counting down to the moment he’ll have to choose. His silence tells you everything. He won’t follow you—not now. That’s fine. They never do, at first.

“You’ll know where to find me when you’re ready,” you say, stopping just at the edge of the shadows. You glance back at him, holding his gaze for a beat longer than necessary. His face is a mask, but you see through it. You see the hunger there, buried deep but unmistakable. “But don’t take too long. The darkness doesn’t wait forever.”

With that, you step into the night, letting it shallow you whole. The shadows close around you like a shroud, but you don’t need to look back to know he’s still standing there, staring after you. You can feel it, the weight of his gaze, the tension in his body as he wrestles with himself. You can what’s coming. The seed has been planted, and it’s only a matter of time before it grows into something he can’t control.

You’ve seen men like Dexter before. They all think they’re unique, that their darkness is different, special. And maybe it is. But it always leads them to the same place. Sooner or later, he’ll come. And when he does. he’ll wonder if he ever really had a choice at all.

As you disappear into the shadows, Dexter is left alone, staring into the darkness with a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years: anticipation.

do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.

taglist; @delsbtch @crustaceanwitch @stre3tleopard | taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !

important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not of my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show and the writers involved. thank you.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

The spooky atmosphere of The House on Haunted Hill (1959) dir. William Castle

[horygory]

The Shining (1980)