#r/paranormal

[goryhorroor]

“2000s horror movies had to adapt rapidly in the new decade. by 2005, the horror genre was as popular as ever. horror films routinely topped the box office, yielding an above-average gross on below-average costs. it seems that audiences wanted a good, group scare as a form of escapism.”

[pixiecaps]

LOOK AT MY BOYS🤏🤏🤏😭😭😭😭😭😭

[cosmicourple]

I love taking 2 characters where one is Divine and the other is human and just.

Swapping them in A.U’s 4 no reason,,

Anyway, EPIC! A.U called Cryptids Street where Odysseus is a Feathered Skinwalker, Penelope is a Swamp Creature, The Crew + Suitors r various types of Ghosts, and The Six Olympian sibs r Humans who have just moved into a old stale apartment complex after running away from their home country 2 get away from their shitty family, specifically Father :D

[paranormal-guest]

You awaken from an uneasy sleep and frown. It's still dark and your alarm hasn't gone off yet. You look at your phone: 3am.

You get up to use the restroom and grab a glass of water. When you return, your bedroom is darker and colder than you remember, but you are in a tired haze and are quick to get back in bed under your warm blankets.

You close your eyes, but something isn't right. No, you feel like you're being watched. You nervously glance around the room, but cannot discern anything. Has it gotten even darker?

You hide under the covers, but soon feel as if someone has sat on your bed next to you. Your nervous breaths and silent prayers do nothing as the covers and swiftly pulled away and sent flying across the room, and before you can so much as cry out for help you feel an invisible hand cover your mouth and your weak little body is pinned to your mattress.

Your shorts and panties are pulled away by your invisible attacker, and your legs are forced apart. As you feel something tear into your virgin pussy, you awaken.

3am.

[licuzinho]

oi eu vim pra cá pq o twitter morreu brasileiros vamos virar amigos

[eruden-writes]

Room & Board - Part 19

paranormal fantasy vampire x human eventual triad (x werewolf)

Anonymous asked:

For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Links under cut!

x x x x x

Part 1 | Previous | Masterlist | Next

x x x x x

In your quickly fading consciousness, you realize Tabaeus has let go of your hands. Their own grip at your shoulders, long spindly fingers trembling. Turning your face toward the hand on your right, away from Tabaeus’s feasting mouth, you find your sight blurring. 

Before unconsciousness claims you, you press a gentle kiss to the back of their palm. Driven to somehow comfort the vampire, even at such a discordant juncture. Their fingers flex, claws digging into your skin as something akin to another sob bubbles up from their mouth.

That’s the last thing you hear as darkness pulls you under. 

---

The next morning, Tabaeus is gone. 

They must have called to Lachlan in the middle of the night, swept off into the darkness. Faintly, you remember a touch on your cheek, whispered words, but it is all so muddled in your groggy head. 

You sit in the kitchen, hunched over the table, head in your hands. The bowl of cereal you had blearily made for yourself sits uneaten, growing soggier by the second. Heat burns in your eyes, but the tears don’t fall. Just hover at the edge of your lids and burn at your nose.

“They thralled us while we slept. Probably to keep us dead asleep while they left.” Across from you, Ewan sits sprawled in his chair. His head leans back, his hand pressing to his own forehead. “Feels like a godsdamn hangover.”

“That fucking asshole,” you sigh, shoving your cereal further away. You cross your arms and lay your head down on them, trying to ignore the anger and sadness churning inside your chest. To know Tabaeus would still thrall you, even after you bent to their request, makes bile crawl up your throat.

You don’t even look up as Ewan asks, “What’s our plan now?”

“What do you mean, what now? Tabaeus is gone,” you mumble, words muffled by your arms. Depressed resignation weighs heavily in your chest and in your words.

You catch movement as Ewan shifts. Something in the air shifts and you think he’s looking at you now. “You don’t want to go find them?” 

“Can we even find them?” Hopeless, you cross your arms atop the table and flump your head down into your arms. Lachlan was obviously powerful and Tabaeus was no schmuck when it came to his powers either. If neither wanted to be found, could you and Ewan have any hope to track them down?

Ewan’s silence answers your question. If Tabaeus didn’t want to be found, if he was so intent on just disappearing from your lives - both of your lives, really - could either of you find him? You don’t even know what kind of underground society vampires operated in. How hard would it be to dig them out? How many had centuries of experience, of power, to wield?

Silence descended on the two of you, as you both stew in woe. It was only when a small, unfamiliar voice interrupted the pity party that you looked up, “You can find him.”

On the table, the rodents Tabaeus had brought home stare at you. Confused, you push yourself up in a proper sitting position and glance around, ignoring the fact the sugar gliders somehow got out of their cage. The only other person present, however, is Ewan. And he’s staring wide-eyed at the sugar gliders. Without realizing it, you have braced for his question before he mutters, “Why are the sugar gliders talking?” 

“We’re imps, thank you very much,” Liuva, the lighter of the two gliders, titters as their nose twitches. At the disbelieving look that you and Ewan shoot, they comically heave a sigh that makes the sugar glider equivalent of shoulders rise and fall. Before your very eyes, the sugar gliders shift, the fur falling away and becoming a cape, leaving two very small, human-ish figures standing atop the table. 

Both spindly figures had dark black eyes and markings on their grey-toned skin, long pointed ears peeking out from their hair. The only distinct difference between the two was the color of their hair - wild tufts that looked as soft as dandelion fluff - which happened to be the same shade as their respective capes. Your eyes flicker up to Ewan, but he appears as shock as you are. Perhaps the two imps had perfected sugar glider stink to the point even a werewolf couldn’t tell the difference.

“When were you going to tell me this,” you hiss, returning your attention to the two imps. Another question rammed into your head as you leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “When was Tabaeus going to tell me!?” 

Carelessly, Bjarka and Liuva shrug in response. Neither seem particularly wary as you loom over them.

Taking advantage of your outraged quiet, Ewan steps in, “What's your story, you two?” 

The two imps half-turn toward Ewan, before exchanging glances with one another. A silent conversation seems to transmit between the two, before both give a relenting shrug. Liuva speaks first, their eyes flicking from you to Ewan as they speak, “We just wanted to be pampered.” 

“We saw how humans cared for pets and took the form of something cute and fluffy.” When Bjarka speaks, you realize they were the one who spoke first. Their tone is deeper than Liuva’s own. Bjarka sighs dreamily, hands clasped together and pressed to the side of their face like some sort of 1950s schoolgirl lost in a pleasant daydream.

“Tabaeus knew what we were right away,” Liuva takes up the line, admiration coloring their voice and pitching higher. “But they were kind.” 

“They didn’t treat us like problems,” Bjarka adds, their nose wrinkling as their tone sours.

That bitter tone is mirrored in Liuva’s voice as she adds, “Like annoyances.” 

Turning to you, Bjarka’s expression turns dire and genuine. “But Tabaeus did want us to behave.”

“So we did.” Liuva solemnly nods, though you could swear you see their hand move behind their back. It’s a movement that reminds you of a child crossing their fingers behind their back.

The story seems rather scant, you think. Why would they choose to willingly be people’s pets? What about the man who ‘sold’ them to Tabaeus? You bite your tongue on the very questions. Those curiosities could wait. There is one question gnawing at your head, wanting answers more. “Why didn’t they tell me about you two?” 

Once again, Bjarka and Liuva exchange looks. Concern crimps both their faces, but it is Bjarka who turns to you. “They were looking for the right time, but it never came around.”

“They were worried about freaking you out,” Liuva mumbles, giving you yet another shrug. 

Swallowing heavily, you ask, "Did you see them leave?”

"Yes, they were with another vampire. Slimy and sleazy.” Raising their little hands, Liuva wiggles their tiny fingers and makes a face.

Ewan and you nearly speak as one as you both knowingly say, "Lachlan.”

Both imps shrug and make a sound as if to say ‘if you say so.’ Both sets of dark little eyes flicker between you and Ewan, quiet now that they had brought you up to speed of their own circumstances.

Your brain is still trying to process yet another turn when Ewan gets the conversation back on track, “Alright, so how do we find Tabaeus?” 

Bjarka, the imp with the darker furred cape, turns those ink-deep eyes on Ewan. Something in their expression glimmers with vague amusement and practicality. “You already know a witch.” 

“Jemma?” Ewan perks up and you can almost see a pair of canine-like ears standing tall.

Your head snaps to the werewolf, your eyebrows raised. “Jemma’s a witch-witch?” 

Awkwardness causes Ewan’s shoulders to pinch, a wince of a smile tugging across his lips as he nods an affirmative to your question. 

You knew your co-worker was into the esoteric stuff and some spirituality. Tarot and gems, woo-woo paranormal stuff, and the like. But those were just trends flooding the mainstream now. It didn’t seem like that much of a stretch to just believe she was simply a human dreaming of something more to life. 

Then again, you were currently in your kitchen, discussing how to find a vampire with not just a werewolf, but two imps. Could you really be surprised?

“When did my life become a paranormal drama?” You groan and press your face to the table, arms outstretched around the two imps. If it bothers them, they don’t seem to notice. One of them - Bjarka you guess, judging by the position - pats your forearm consolingly.

You hear the apologetic smile that crosses Ewan’s lips as he teases, “I think that’s just what happens when you befriend a vampire.”

---

Soon enough, you find yourself at Jemma’s studio with your supernatural entourage. Jemma’s apartment is what you expected it to be, with all her witchy implementations in plain sight. Perhaps that was why the occult had gotten a boost in recent years. Magic users and the supernatural were tired of hiding.

Jemma’s home is cluttered, but comfortable. Being a one-room studio, there were no walls to delineate the kitchen from the living room, though Jemma had hung up curtains to separate her ‘bedroom’ from the rest of the space. Plants overran the kitchen, with leafy fronds hanging from the ceiling and pots clustered around the sink. A long table, covered in bottles and candles and even a small cauldron, separated the kitchen from the living room. Books and trinkets scattered about on any available surface. 

“I might be able to track them through scrying,” Jemma sighs once you have brought her up to speed. Her lips purse and her eyes narrow as she admits to her potential inability, “but if they’re part of an old coven, they may be protected.” 

By your side, on the frayed couch in Jemma’s living room, Ewan growls a quiet curse. You stare at the coffee table in front of you, eyebrows furrowed. A fabric drapes over the squat table and, upon the cloth, a candle and box of closed tarot cards sits. You still feel adrift, unable to think of anything effective in the situation. Perhaps it’s Tabaeus’s lingering thrall keeping you unfocused.

Against your chest, you feel Bjarka and Liuva shift in an inside pocket on your jacket. You’re not sure if it’s an imp thing, to sleep as often as they do, or simply a luxury of their life as pseudo pets. The thought invariably leads back to Tabaeus, how they had cared for the imps and how the imps had spoken so darkly of their usual treatment. 

Before you know it, you hunch over, your face falling into your hands. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, the pressure relieving the pulse of frustration in your thoughts. Ewan’s warm, heavy hand sympathetically presses to your shoulder a beat later. There’s a long moment of silence as you breathe, before you drop your hands and glance to the man beside you.

He offers you an encouraging, if weak, smile. You return a smile just as flimsy as his. It’s Jemma’s rough voice that breaks your gaze from Ewan’s eyes, “Did either of you let them feed from you?”

“Yeah,” you reply, trying to fight down the embarrassed flush as you meet Jemma’s critical gaze.

“I did too.” Ewan raises his free hand, flinching under the look you and Jemma shoot him. His expression takes on a bashful edge, his gaze bouncing between the two of you though not meeting either look head-on. “It happened in the van after you fell asleep and we were, uh, getting to know each other still. They needed a boost.”

Unable to help yourself, you snort in amusement. Especially as you catch the increasing blush beneath Ewan’s stubble.

“Well, I think that's your answer.” Jemma leans back in her wooden chair, arms crossing over her chet. “If vampires feeding on Tabaeus, or vice versa, could remain connected, then you should have a connection too.”

Your attention flicks back to your co-worker, a furrow pinching between your brows. “How do we tap into that?” 

“That is the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Jemma’s narrowed eyes rove over her work table as her fingers tap against her biceps. Just as you start to think this will need more research, Jemma stands and heads into the kitchen, riffling around in a drawer. She returns with a fresh pack of sewing needles and two little glass vials that remind you of bead containers from a craft store. 

Jemma shoves the vials and needles toward you. “Prick your fingers and give me a drop, both of you.”

You and Ewan comply, carefully drawing and collecting the blood. Once the vials are handed over to Jemma, she turns away. In the short amount of time, she has her little cauldron filled with purple liquid and bubbling over a hot plate. The room fills with an indescribable scent as liquid boils in the small bowl and the witch references a number of books. She hums to herself as she throws more bits into the occult stew, making the liquid glow a gentle blue.

As Jemma toils, insecure thoughts creep into your brain. Should you even be doing this? Tabaeus chose to leave and wanted you safe. Hell, he might even be the reason why your brain is so fuzzy every time you try to think about saving him. By going against his wishes, could you really bring him home? Or would he stay where he was out of a sense of duty? Dread swells up in your stomach, pinching at your expression.

You feel Ewan’s arm snake around your shoulders, tugging you into his side and startling you from your thoughts. “Don’t worry, we’ll find them.” 

“Maybe that’s what I’m worried about,” you admit, casting a glance up to Ewan’s face. Confusion paints his expression and so you go on,  “Lachlan seemed powerful and who knows how many vampires are under his leadership? Even Tabaeus felt powerless against Lachlan.” 

Ewan is silent for a long moment, his eyebrows dipped into a ‘v’. You don’t expect he’ll have anything further to say, but he surprises you by slowly feeling his words out, “I think that’s just what Lachlan wants Tabaeus to believe.” 

“What?” Straightening a little from your slump, you gaze intently up at Ewan, trying to determine if he’s just trying to make you feel better or if he’s being genuine.

“Lachlan smells like a power-hungry creep and what better way to maintain power than to keep a threat under control?” Ewan’s gaze is no longer on you. He’s staring off into some middle distance, his thoughts churning in directions you can’t possibly imagine. Briefly, you wonder if this had something to do with his old pack. “Tabaeus is old and, from what I know, the older a vampire is, the stronger they are.”

You press your lips together, acknowledging Ewan’s point, but still worried. “Even if they were created as a Memory Keeper?”

“That I don’t know, but no one else seems to know either.” Ewan shrugs, offering you another of his helpless but hopeful smiles. For the first time since Tabaeus left, the expression makes something stir in your chest. Maybe a little of that hope is rubbing off on you.

Settling back, you consider what Ewan has said. No one else seems to know a blasted thing, that is true. Maybe there is hope to find Tabaeus, to bring him home, to rid all of you of Lachlan. The problem simply is figuring out how.

[captain-lovelace]

compilation

[rateaters-sutff]

I propose this invention, the ultimate demon/ghost prover 9000s to finally 100% prove whether or not ghost/demons exist. this has no flaws and will undoubtable work.

[johnnyghostballs]

sorry more barbie pie anyway yeah i know this is low effort Sorry

[phasmophobie]

❝  I have  done  bad  things.  I  can't  take  them  back  and  they  are  part  of  who  I  am.  Most  of  the  time  they  seem  like  the  only  thing  I  am. ❞

#𝐏𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋  𝐙𝐀𝐌Á𝐃𝐈𝐒  ; a skilled  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋  𝐈𝐍��𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 haunted  by  the  ghosts  of  his  deceased  parents,  navigates  a  withdrawn  and  sleep-deprived  existence.  Despite  excelling  in  his  profession,  his  expertise  fails  to  free  him  from  the  shadows  of  his  past. Sleep  eludes  him  as  the  guilt  gnaws  at  his  soul,  a  constant  reminder  of  the  responsibility  he  feels  for  their  untimely  deaths,  all  while  his  reserved  demeanor  and  avoidance  of  social  interactions  further  isolate  him  from  the  world.

A  STUDY  IN ;  childhood  trauma  ,  rejection  ,  growing  up  in  isolation  ,  the  other  world ,  burdensome  expectations  & fear  of  loss .  married   to   daria  zamádis  and   not   interested   in   anyone  else   !! ⠀(⠀please  check  carrd  for  a  detailed  biography   .⠀board . )  ⠀

INDEPENDENT ; SELECTIVE ; FVZ  BASED & FANDOMLESS PARANORMAL  INVESTIGATOR SPECIALISED IN GHOST  HUNTING  . 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀CURRENTLY  CLOSED  for  plotting

[hyperfixated-homo]

eepy moment. have horror au hcs which i have been saving in my back pocket

Raph has so many ghost hunting tools. Its genuinely sort of impressive

Raph has a stash of candles nobody is allowed to touch, apart from to restock. They’re ceremonial

Mikey is team medic bc of the amount of injuries he’s had to deal with in his genre

Mikey knows how to use the most weapons

Leo knows how to use the least weapons

Donnie sometimes speaks in a different language. He never remembers what he said after he says it. And the others know nothing about it, usually only able to pick out that its distinctly nonhuman

The best days for Leo are the ones where he acts completely normal, like he did Before. They are also the worst, because being snapped out of whatever delusion he is experiencing is never fun.

Raph is the worst at eating, but the best at cooking. He often made food for his “friends” at the cabin, but often forgot to make enough for himself.

In a strange turn of events, Leo is the best at taking care of himself. That is, regarding everything except sleep. If he forgot to take care of himself, one of his hallucinations would get mad at him. Although, they got mad when he ate too, so it didn’t matter either way.

Donnie hates food that is too hot. He used to like certain things scolding, like coffee, but now he can’t stand the feeling of it. He doesn’t like the way it burns his tongue.

Everybody makes an effort not to make Donnie think too hard about his markings. It messes with his head.

Leo is the best driver of the group

Donnie has seemingly magic hands when comes to plants. He can make anything thrive.

Sometimes Donnie’s shell markings change. It has a weird correlation to his mood.

The boys’ rooms are a friendlier extension of their universes. Still, they don’t go into them too often. The memories are too fresh.

Leo is banned from cooking. It’s for more upsetting reasons than you probably think.

Mikey can live in practically any basic survival situations. He’s seen a lot of nonsense. He knows how to deal.

Sometimes, Leo and Donnie will lose the ability to feel pain. Donnie has tried to figure out why it happens, but so far has not found any specific reason.

Mikey and Leo have both murdered people. They have also both been murdered. They have bonded about this on more than one occasion.

Raph has a thing against dolls. If any of them inexplicably show up around the lair, they are to be removed IMMEDIATELY.

Leo did the bloody mary challenge once as a joke. He stopped afterwards though, when Raph had a genuine mental breakdown thinking he had invited a ghost to the lair.

Raph knows how to do exorcisms. Not only that, but he’s damn efficient at them too. Doesn’t have to do it often though, because he’s got a bunch of precautions in place to stop spirits from entering the lair already.

Donnie has met (a?) god. He knows this for a fact.

(more au info here smile)

[glitzy-blitzy]

i think i have an addiction to redrawing frames from tv shows when im bored

[louissatturi]

FOOLISH REACTING TO ORDEM PARANORMAL

[CONTEXT OF THE VIDEO] he is watching the animatic of episode 0 from ordem paranormal: Calamidade to see the creature that they ware doing in r/place

The creature is called carente(needy) and lures the victim with their child voice pleding for their mother, so never open a door for a child pleeding for their mother

Better pics of this baby (the tokens, him alive and him dead)

Now him in the r/place now

[books-to-add-to-your-tbr]

Title: Adam Binder

Author: David R. Slayton

Series or standalone: series

Publication year: 2020

Genres: fiction, fantasy, LGBT+, paranormal, romance

Blurb: Guthrie was a good place to be from, but it wasn't a great place to live...not when you were like Adam. Adam Binder hasn't spoken to his brother in years, not since Bobby had him committed to a psych ward for hearing voices. When a murderous spirit possesses Bobby's wife and disrupts the perfect life he's built away from Oklahoma, he's forced to ask for his little brother's help. Adam is happy to escape the trailer park and get the chance to say "I told you so"...but he arrives in Denver to find the local magicians dead. It isn't long before Adam is the spirit's next target. To survive the confrontation, he'll have to risk bargaining with powers he'd rather avoid, including his first love: the elf who broke his heart. The Binder brothers don't realise that they're unwitting pawns in a game played by immortals. Death herself wants the spirit's head, and she's willing to destroy their family to reap it.

[snoopyliker]

shoutout to my favorite bit of the season of thiago lighting daniels cigarette