#horror story prompt

[luna--the--moth]

I want to write a novel where prisoners on death row get forced into a system once every 5 years like Sword Art Online nerve gear connect to their bodies but it's like a Fortnite Battle Royal, and the wining team gets their sentences lifted and they get to go free. And everyone else dies and the public watches it on tv like it's the highest form of entertainment. And victims of any of the violent criminals can choose to join and play as npcs and try to hinder or attack the people who hurt them or their loved ones.

Does this sound like something anyone would want to read?

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Instead of going for Tim, Jason goes for the easiest way to utterly destroy his Replacement and kidnaps his civilian boyfriend to demonstrate just how easy it is to lose something (or someone) you love in this line of work.

And while the whole “make the Replacement beg” part of the plan is going amazing…. Jason really didn’t plan the whole “keeping a conspiracy theorist teenager hostage” through to the end.

Bernard just wants to know what the new crime lord’s deal with Robin is. And why— and how— exactly he’s supposed to be a bargaining chip when he can count the times he met Robin on one hand. oh! and could someone maybe tell his boyfriend, Tim, that he’ll be late for their coffee date on Tuesday?

[puppetmaster13u]

Who wants a prompt entirely in memes.

[urfriendlywriter]

Horror/Eerie st0ry prompts:

(feel free to use<3 tag me when yall writeee )

"[name], w-why is there blood on your face-"

hyperventilating because your feet just touched blood but there's no body.

"it-it's--fuck, it just moved-"

"stop breathing at my ear, [name] --" and turning around to find nobody beside you.

looking at the mirror but the reflection isn't. looking. at. you.

"we need to get out, this is--a bad idea!"

being stuck in a nightmare.

"don't look back, please, i b-beg you, 'name', don't!"

"look at me-no! hey, no, don't, just focus on me, okay? okay, u got this!"

talking to a person and suddenly they turn weird-their face, and voice changes. their eyes turn white.

learning about whatever that is haunting you

"Do you know (an item that you found) belongs to?" and their face go white. "how. did you. find this."

"we need to run, you moron!"

lights flickering so hard

hallucinating shadowy figures

having your actions controlled by a shadow figure that's moving right outside your room

finding dark bruises all over your body you have no recollection of getting (ok but whys this creepy as fck)

having all things shake violently, fall and break

that gut feeling something is following you (if ure that mc, you'll def go investigating what it is. which DEF WILL GET YO ASS IN TROUBLE)

^ or that it might be progressively getting darker as you walk down a road where not a single life is seen

blacking out and waking up somewhere else

if you lift your head up and acknowledge it's presence-then you're done.

you blink once it's there. you blink again it's not but when you blink once again, it's on top of you, choking you.

"i shouldn't die, damn, i haven't even had my first kiss yet TT " (the comedic relief friend in horror stories lmao)

"are you haunted ?! sigh. do i need to save you? " "if you're not gonna piss your pants, yes please."

"if it ever comes between you and me-" "I'm-" "choose you." "obviously choosing you." "no. no! you are choosing you or i am going in there without you. i don't need to lose you too. understood?" ".... okay."

crying out loud, heaving and shuddering but nobody can see you breaking down

having blood smeared all over you

having to watch yourself slowly loose your identity and go paranoid

not being able to be alone anymore.

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Person A: "That dog followed me all the way to the edge of the forest again today, I wish I could get it to follow me inside so that I could at least treat its wounds... seems like the poor thing's always injured in some way."

Person B: "Have you tried feeding it?"

Person A: "Sooo many times, it never accepts anything I give to it though unfortunately... It does let me pet it occasionally when I'm upset, but it's always covered in so much filth that the stench takes forever to wash off afterwards."

Person B: "...What kind of dog did you say it was?"

Person A: "Uh... I'm not sure actually, whatever it is, it's a pretty big breed. Oh! Hold on, I'll flip the camera and show you! It should still be lingering at the edge of the forest at this time."

Person B: "...I don't see anything."

Person A: "What are you talking about? It's right there, by that big old oak tree! See?"

Person B: "....(Person A)... There's nothing there."

[blackkatdraws]

A world where humans are considered similar to Analogue Horror creatures

It's just an idea that popped into my head when I was having another binge watch of analogue horrors. It can work with a normal story, the Isekai (other world) genre, or with Humans Fuck Yeah! stories, or maybe more.

Aw man, imagining an alien freaking out and recording a human in a analogue horror-esque style would both be so cool and extremely funny.

[If you see a Human in your vicinity, run away and hide.]

This is so ridiculous but it's an interesting idea, no?

[unboundprompts]

Idk if you’ve done this yet but ways to describe a dark/scary motel/house? Something straight out of a paranormal horror story to be precise.

Thank you!! 🫶🏼

I love love love horror. If you ever want more horror prompts please let me know :)

Descriptions of Haunted Locations

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

The doors of the motel were identical, nothing differentiating them besides the rusted numbers. They were dirty, as if they had never been cleaned, and the paint had been chipped off over time. Some of the doors looked like they were covered in claw marks-- fingernails digging into the old paint in chilling, desperate lines.

The house was old. It looked like it hadn't been cared for in decades. The grass in the yard was up to her knees and ivy leaves grew on the exteriors of the house and rooted in the gutters. The windows were boarded up, making it look abandoned. The only way to glimpse the inside of the house was through the attic window.

The entry way was filled with dust. It lingered in the air and on every surface. He glanced up at the antique chandelier hanging high overhead, seeing the dirt and grime that dirtied the glass crystals. He tried the light switch, flicking it up and down but to no avail. When he turned on his phone's flashlight, and shone it through the dusty air, a shadow passed in front of him, darting through the entry way and up the stairs.

The motel room was small, the bed made with a comforter that looked like it came from their great-grandmother's house. It was a dirty floral pattern, with yellow pillows that were probably once white. The carpet was stained. Either with blood or dark red wine, they weren't sure. And the window that looked out onto the walkway was covered in fingerprints.

Taxidermy. The lobby of the motel was filled with horrible dead animals mounted to walls and displayed in the corners. She was near certain that their eyes would move. As she checked in, the taxidermy squirrel that sat on the desk stared at her with it's teeth bared.

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[prettybean]

WHAT THEY WOULD SAY DURING SEX (AHS +18 Evan Peters main characters only)

I wanna do one just for Kai, someone stop me before it’s too late

tw: degrading (only w Tate and Kai), mention of blood, nsfw

Tate Langdon

"On my lap, now"

"Fuck, I wanna make you sit on my face so bad"

"Have you ever tried with a ghost? You nasty bitch"

“I bet your boyfriend doesen't fuck you like this"

“I love you, l've imagined this moment for ages

Kit Walker

"You did it so well, such a good girl/boy"

"Touch yourself in front of me, baby"

"Take it deeper, you're sucking it so good"

"You're pretty with my cum all over your face, aren't you?"

"TI'll only put the tip, that's what you deserve"

Kyle Spencer - before

"Tell me if it hurts"

"I've missed you, I was tired to jerking off alone"

"Look at you, you're out of breath baby"

"fuck, you're insatiable"

Kyle spencer - after

"Your mouth... there"

"Teach me, please"

*very loud wimpers*

Jimmy Darling

"You called me a monster, huh? That's what a monster can do with your body”

"I know you love my hands"

"You taste so good, I could eat you up for hours"

"Let me see how much you love riding my cock"

"Shh it's okay, l've got you. You like when I touch you like this"

James March

"All that blood looks good on you"

"If you can still walk we're not finished, you know the rules"

"I had no idea you were so addicted to my cock, you're so fucking wet already"

"Beg and I'll think about it"

"Yeah, get on yor knees darling, you look so pretty down here"

Austin Sommers

"I haven't even started yet stop making all those noises"

"What did I just said? Don't you dare to touch yourself"

"Take my fingers"

"Eyes on me while I take your blood"

"Use your words"

Kai Anderson

"Rubbing that little body on me like you want to impale yourself on my dick, so pathetic"

"Do you want to tell the other members what we do here? How your Divine Ruler makes his little slut cum over and over again?”

"No condom, you'll take my bare cock inside"

"Hold my pinky and tell me what makes you cum the most"

"Don't make me slap your face again, fuck you even liked that, what a devote little lamb"

[horrortember]

Calling all lovers of darkfic, grimdarks, creepypastas, and scary stories! I had yet to see a monthly writing event themed around horror, so I made one! The event will occur in September, so you have plenty of time to get ready.

If you feel like participating, tag your fills with #horrortember2024, and I'll reblog as many as I can! Fanfic is strongly encouraged, but original fiction is accepted as well. And, depending on how many people join, I'll post a list of completionists or participants at the end of the month!

A written list of prompts is under the cut:

1. AND THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN WHAT I DESERVE, FOR MY TEETH TO JUST FALL OUT: body horror, parasite, gore

2. BUT THEY SAW SOMETHING THAT’S REAL: pretending to be human, identical, visceral

3. WHO’S AFRAID OF THE BIG BAD WOLF: vampires, zombies, werewolves

4. IT’S ALWAYS BEST WHEN THE LIGHTS ARE OFF: music, silence, echoes

5. BURIED ABOVE THE GROUND: dust, overgrown, forgotten

6. WHAT HAVE I DONE: losing memories, possession, cursed

7. DREAMLESS SLEEP: sick, survivor, injury

8. NOW ONLY DOGS WILL FOLLOW ME: cannibalism, eaten alive, maggots

9. HAVE YOU HEARD THE STORY OF THE RABBIT IN THE MOON: meta, cosmic horror, forbidden knowledge

10. WE DIDN’T GO IN THERE ALONE: hunted, solitary, darkness

11. YOU CAN’T RUN FROM ME FOREVER: obsession, yandere, overpowering emotions

12. I WEEP AND SAY GOODNIGHT, LOVE, AS MY ORGANS PACK IT IN: doomsday, apocalypse, certain death

13. WHAT DO YOU KNOW: nightmare, prophecy, inevitable

14. I CAN MAKE THE WORLD SEEM SLOW: polaroid, motel, record player

15. DON’T KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE: doll, reflection, facet

16. NEVER SHALL WE DIE: immortality, decay, cyclical

17. WHAT DID YOU BURY BEFORE THOSE HANDS PULLED ME FROM THE EARTH: oops, self-made monster, playing god

18. SHE’LL SAY SHE LOVES YOU, EVEN THOUGH SHE ONLY WANTS TO STEAL YOUR SOUL: haunting the narrative, inseparable, devotion

19. ARE YOU ALIVE, AM I AWAKE: chills, hallucinations, paranoia

20. IN THE RED, YOU’RE BETTER OFF DEAD: hunger, craving, unconventional needs

21. HOW DO I BREAK YOU BEFORE YOU BREAK ME: unreliable narrator, serial killer, manipulation

22. THERE IS NO END: help isn’t coming, final girl, trauma

23. LIFE CAN BE LIKE A DREAM: gone wrong, descent into madness, distrust

24. HEAR THEM LAUGHING UNDERNEATH: hollow, below the surface, remnants

25. I’LL SAY GOODBYE SOON: timeloop, lesson learned, consequence

26. NO CURE IS COMING NEAR: animals, rabies, primal fears

27. WHY DON’T YOU LET ME BE FREE: hanahaki, soulmates, trope inversion

28. AND THEN HE STARTED LAUGHING UNTIL HE CRACKED HIS JAW: butterflies, roses, sunshine

29. WHERE LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL ALL THE TIME: man-made, perfection, out of place

30. YOU ARE CALLED TO THE TREES: climb, descend, mass migration

[luxaofhesperides]

Post-Apocalypse + Soulmate AU ; requested by @burr-burr!

When Danny was a kid, he used to imagine how the world would end. It was never a zombie apocalypse or the fallout of a nuclear war, but the death of the sun, the expansion of their star in death that would swallow their planet whole, leaving no survivors.

It would have been nicer than the post-apocalyptic world he stands in now, knowing that it’s his fault the world has ended. 

He’s still struggling to wrap his head around it. To understand that all of this is his fault because he cheated on one test, desperate to pass after being unable to study for it with how exhausting and time consuming fighting ghosts is. Everywhere he looks, there’s more destruction. His own home is rubble, with only the partially untouched Ops Center remaining to let him know that this is where he once lived.

The rest of Amity Park is in worse shape. Buildings are hollowed out, the skeletons of their foundations visible, if they still remain standing. Most homes have been burned to the ground, leaving blackened corners of walls and nothing else. The roads are cracked and difficult to walk through, as if an earthquake tore through the city. Cars are scattered along the road, overturned or left abandoned, doors still open.

Danny has yet to find any bodies. He doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not. 

He’s only caught a few glimpses of his future self, the cause of all this, and can’t bring himself to chase after that monster. He feels sick to his stomach knowing what he’ll become. 

That monster has to be stopped. The world has already ended, but that doesn’t mean his future self can be allowed to go on like this. If there are any survivors, they need protection. They need to know they’ll be safe to try to start rebuilding, and that can only happen if his future self is dead.

Danny knows what he has to do; he has a responsibility to protect what little remains of Amity Park, and to do that, he needs to kill himself. 

But his head it spinning from the horror of the situation and his throat is tightening up the way it only does when he’s about to have a panic attack.

He needs to stop his future self, but he also can’t stay another second in the ruins of Amity Park without destroying himself.

The guilt sits heavy in his chest as he goes ghost and takes to the sky, flying blindly towards the setting sun. Danny doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t really care. He just needs to get away for a bit, until he can calm down and put together a plan of attack so he can take out his future self in one go.

He just…

He never thought he’d be a monster. But here they are.

Flying away from Amity Park reveals the truly harrowing extent to which this world has suffered under his future self’s hands. There are no intact cities or towns. Roads are broken beyond repair, highways littered with empty cars, most bridges crumbling into the rivers below them, and everything is covered in overgrowth. All signs of humanity’s careful cultivation of the world has been erased. The earth takes back what humans took from it, covering everything in green. 

There is no movement. No people. Barely any birds flying beneath him. 

What remains of the world is silence.

Danny is terrified that there’s no one left. That his future self has so thoroughly destroyed the earth that no human survivors remain. 

That gives his guidance, some idea of where to go: a big city. Any big city, really. 

He flies lower, searching for some sort of landmark, or a sign that will tell him where he’s going. A rusted over green sign farther down the road tells him that he’s 50 miles from Gotham.

Oh, Danny thinks, Maybe Batman can help me.

If anyone could survive the end of the world, it would be the superheroes, right? If anyone stands a chance at defeating his future self, it would be a superhero. Superman might have been a better choice, but Metropolis is the opposite direction and multiple states away; Danny’s not sure he can make it before his future self catches wind of him and hunts him down. 

Danny has no doubt about what would happen to him if he’s caught; there’s a reason he hasn’t seen any ghosts around, after all.

Gotham is a city of secrets and rumors. What little he’s heard of it is baffling and, frankly, insane. There’s no city in the country like it and Gothamites prefer it that way, stubbornly loving the home that will kill them. For all the manmade horrors they survive on the daily, they would be more prepared for the end of the world than anyone else. 

Gotham may be another casualty of his future self’s destruction, but it also offers him hope.

Danny follows the broken road towards Gotham, pushing himself to fly faster than he ever has before. What should have been a half hour flight is completed in fifteen minutes. 

As soon as the towering buildings of Gotham, dark and semi destroyed, come into view, Danny drops from the sky and returns to human form. The strain from pushing himself has exhausted him and he feels it like an ache in his chest, his heart twisting and trying to burst from how hard it’s beating. 

He collapses to his hands and knees and gasps for breath on the outskirts of Gotham. 

It takes a good few minutes to calm down and breathe normally, then another to gather his strength to stand up and begin walking. 

The world is eerily quiet as he enters the city, feeling the chill fall upon him as he is consumed by the shadows of tall buildings. It’s much more intact that Amity Park, but there’s no denying the destruction that still surrounds him. Buildings are empty and worn down, decaying and slowly being consumed by new growth. Burnt out husks of overturned cars fill the street, leaving Danny to carefully pick his way around them, unable to walk in a straight line. 

He feels like the only person in the world. He feels like he’s being watched by a hungry eyes. 

Danny shivers and walks faster. 

The deeper he goes into the city, the more he starts to hope that he’s not alone in this world. There’s small signs of life: the smell of smoke, recently burned, certain streets cleaned up, makeshift walls constructed from rubble to block access to certain areas of each block.

He swears he can see people move above his head, but anytime he looks up, the windows of every building are empty. 

“Batman,” he whispers to himself, “I just need to find Batman.”

He turns a corner and continues walking. Apartment buildings give way to stores and businesses, all with their windows broken and nothing on the shelves. Then the buildings end abruptly and he’s left staring at an overgrown park that resembles a jungle more than it does a part of the city.

The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. Fruit, perhaps, or flowers. 

If he was left in the aftermath of an apocalypse, he would go to where he could find growing food. If there’s anyone left in Gotham, he’s willing to bet they’re in here, surviving off of what food can be grown in the confines of the park. 

Danny crosses the road and takes three steps onto the grass before someone appears beside him and points an electrified baton at him.

“Who are you?” they demand, eyes hidden behind a cracked helmet, but the bottom half of their face is visible, revealing scars crossing on dark skin. 

Danny takes a step back, eyeing the electric baton warily, and lifts his hands to show he means no harm. “Danny. I came from out of town. I was hoping to find people here.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been traveling.”

His clothes are clean and intact and he has none of the world-weariness that weighs down this Gothamite. Danny winces, and says, “My situation is kinda complicated. But I did just get here. I’m looking for help, actually. Do you know where I could find Batman?”

There’s a long moment of tense silence, then he hears a quiet sigh and the helmet comes off. An exhausted looking man looks at him with one blind eye, turned a milky white, and his voice is low and stricken as he says, “Batman’s dead. But maybe I can help you.”

“Batman’s dead?!” Danny repeats, shocked.

“Yeah. Sacrificed himself in one of the last times Phantom attacked Gotham. Got me and Nightwing out of that encounter alive. We’re really the only heroes left in Gotham, not that there’s much need anymore with everyone trying to survive.”

Phantom killed Batman. His future self killed Batman. 

Danny feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh,” he manages to say. 

The man’s expression softens. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you as much as we can. Why don’t you come on in? Ivy can get you some food if you’re hungry.”

Danny nods numbly as he follows the man deeper into the park. He walks with ease, taking paths that only become visible when he walks them, leaving Danny to follow close behind. It takes some time before he realizes that the plants are moving out of their way just enough that they don’t trip, and when he looks back, the path is covered again, hidden from sight.

He’s taken to the heart of the forest, where the trees shift to the side to reveal a large encampment of survivors all living together. Beds are strung up as hammocks between trees and rope ladders dangle from branches to help people move up and down. The ground is full of small fire pits, a few in use to make make food, and sections in the back full of vegetable and herb patches, separated by berry bushes. 

The people here all look tired and worn down, but they still smile and speak in light voices, adjusted to a new life after surviving so much horror and destruction. He even spots a few people using powers, or just looking different, including one large man who looks like a crocodile. 

“Pick up another stray?” a raspy voice asks, humor lighting the tone. They both turn to see a woman with long red hair and a green tint to her skin be lowered to the ground by a vine. She’s also heavily scarred and her right arm is completely gone, replaced by a wooden limb covered in moss that moves as if it’s always been a part of her body.

“Hey Ivy,” the man greets, “I don’t think this one is staying. He came to Gotham looking for Batman.”

The words make Ivy’s gaze sharpen, and Danny feels a trickle of dread go down his spine. She’s dangerous and standing before her feels as if he’s in the mouth of a hungry beast.

“Is that so,” she says, voice flat. “How interesting. I’ll let you two talk somewhere more private.” Her gaze flicks to the side, and when Danny turns to look, he can see some of the people in the encampment observing them warily, bodies tense and poised to either flee or attack.

Ivy turns and the plants part for her. Danny waits for the man to begin walking before he follows, trying not to feel trapped as the plants close the path behind him. She takes them to a small pond full of water lilies, gives the man a careful look, then leaves, swallowed up by the plants.

“Is everything okay?” Danny asks hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Nah, you’re good,” the man replies, “It’s just that people don’t trust me much.”

“Why? You’ve been really nice.”

The man shrugs. “My soulmate is Phantom. He’s the one responsible for doing all this and killing almost everyone we love. I didn’t know until the first time I fought him, but they hate anything to do with Phantom, including me.”

Danny’s heart stutters in his chest. This is his soulmate.

Most people don’t subscribe to the belief that they’re meant to be with their soulmate. Meeting your soulmate is rare enough that most people don’t try, and plenty of people have spoken of how important it is to have a variety of relationships, to not close yourself off for the slightest chance of meeting your soulmate. 

Danny never looked for his; he didn’t want to subject them to his parents, and then he became a halfa and gave up on all dreams of having a normal life or any relationship with someone who didn’t know he was Phantom.

And now he’s here, in a ruined future, standing before his soulmate who understandably hates him for destroying the world. 

“You’re Phantom’s soulmate,” Danny breathes. His hands are shaking. He wants to cry.

The man sighs. “Yeah. I am. Not that it’s stopped him from trying to kill me. Don’t worry, kid, I’m not working with him. I swear.”

“He’s your soulmate and he hurt you.”

“He hurt everyone,” he says, then gestures at his blind eye. “This is barely a thing compared to what he did to other heroes.”

Danny can’t find the words to expression his horror at seeing the damage he did to his own soulmate. His future self is heartless and cruel and bloodthirsty. He has to be stopped.

He doesn’t want to kill his soulmate. 

“I came here for Batman,” Danny says, “Because I thought he could help me stop Phantom.”

“That’s rough, kid. Batman couldn’t beat Phantom. I don’t think anyone can. We’ve tried, but most heroes are dead and we can’t just go out there and risk the lives of everyone here. We gotta focus on survival, not revenge.”

“I have to stop Phantom.”

“Sorry kid, but that’s a terrible idea. Don’t go out there trying to be a hero. You can stay here, alright? Ivy will get you set up and the others will help you settle in.”

Danny takes a step back and shakes his head. “No. I have to stop him. It has to be me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m Phantom,” Danny whispers. 

The man immediately reaches for his electric batons again, taking a step back. “Not funny, kid,” he says with a tense voice. 

“I’m not joking. I am Phantom, just from the past. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You’re Phantom?” the man repeats. “You. You’re just a kid, and you’re going to destroy the world one day?”

“I don’t want this to happen! That’s why I need to go back, so I can stop the event that will set me down this path. And to go back, I need to defeat the Phantom that exists here.”

“He’ll kill you, kid.”

“That still solves the problem, doesn’t it? If I die here, then he’ll never live long enough to destroy the world. He’ll die too.”

The man stares at him with cold eyes, then turns away, dropping his hands away from the batons. “Don’t turn this into a suicide mission, kid,” he says. “The Phantom who’s here isn’t you. You don’t have to pay for his crimes. Just… stay here and I’ll go fight Phantom.”

“He already hurt you,” Danny says. 

“What’s a little more hurt? I can handle it.”

“No,” Danny says firmly. He shoves away the fear and hurt in his heart and finds his strength in determination. No more running away. No more hiding. 

The timeline should not exist. He can’t hesitate at the thought of erasing this version of his soulmate from existence; he’s tired and injured and an outcast in the only community that still exists in Gotham. He deserves better. Everyone here does.

And to give them a better life, Danny needs to stop this one from ever happening.

“This is my future. It’s my responsibility. I’ll stop it and make sure this never happens. And… I’m sorry for everything I did.”

“It’s not your fault, Danny. You’re not this version of Phantom.”

That’s not at all true, since Danny’s actions lead to the end of the world, but he’s not going to argue when he’s preparing to fight a stronger, more ruthless version of himself. He takes a deep breath, then goes ghost and floats into the air. 

“Before I go,” he begins, hesitantly, “What’s your name? Since you’re apparently my soulmate.”

The man smiles sadly and answers, “Duke. If we ever meet in your time, tell that version of me to look for my mom’s favorite book.”

It’s an odd request, but if it’s important enough to be asked for, then Danny will do it. “Your mom’s favorite book,” he repeats, “Got it.”

“Take care, Danny. Good luck out there.”

Danny nods and takes one last look at his soulmate, older and worn down, stubbornly getting through each long day, and swears to make things better.

Then he flies off, ready to fight his future self and make things right again. 

. . .

He thinks of his soulmate for years after he’s back in the present. The timeline where his future self exists is gone and the world is safe, but he still remembers the pain he caused Duke. 

When the time comes to apply to universities, Danny sets his sights on Gotham. His parents take him on a trip during spring break to tour the campus, and it’s after the tour, as he wanders around on his own, that he bumps into a student walking out of a building.

“Sorry,” they both say at the same time, reaching for each other to help each other keep their balance. 

As soon as their hands meet, it’s as if lightning runs through him. From the look on the other guy’s face, he felt it to. 

This is his soulmate.

“Duke,” Danny says, amazed and disbelieving all at once. And the request crosses his mind, something he wondered about almost every night since he returned to his time. “Look for your mom’s favorite book.”

“How—?”

“I met you in the future. You asked me to take back a message for the you that’s here. So: look for your mom’s favorite book. What does that mean, by the way? I never asked.”

Duke blinks, then slowly retracts his hands from Danny’s. “My mom’s favorite book was a hand bound journal from my dad. They were soulmates and he wrote about their first year in a relationship together. It’s full of pictures, and she loved it more than anything. That message is to remind me to have faith in soulmates, to believe that something good can happen to me.”

“Oh! That’s… wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal.”

Duke shrugs. “It’s fine. I needed the reminder. I would have already run away by now if you didn’t say that. You already know my name, but I think now’s a good time to introduce ourselves.”

“Right!” Danny says, flustered. He sticks his hand out, which Duke shakes with an amused smile. “I’m Danny. Fenton. I’m coming here next semester.”

“Duke Thomas. I’m a freshman here and I’d really love to get your number.”

He’s not hitting on Danny, not really, but it still makes him blush. The way Duke looks at him is full of light and laughter, so different from the exhausted and wary way he looked in the future now rewritten. 

This is what the future version of himself tried to kill. He doesn’t understand how anyone could ever hurt Duke when he’s so full of life. 

But he’s safe now. Everyone is; Danny changed the future and what lies ahead is wholly unknown to him.

The world is safe and full of promise. 

No matter what comes, Danny is sure he and Duke are going to be just fine.

[seaside-writings]

Prompt #1,277

"Chill it's just a deer,"

"That is the farthest thing from a deer,"

[lintwriting]

I’ve been reading a lot of bingqiu ghost aus recently and usually they have Binghe as the ghost because Binghe really works so well as a ghost.

You can do the ancient cultivator ghost set up (here's another) with a modern SY

you can give him the spooky-ness with ghost powers to make sure we don’t clip off Binghe’s incredibly unhinged demonic nature like people clip off the beautiful wings of a bird.

and make him into a sexy incubus type of ghost like the stallion he is.

And ghosts often serve as a wonderful metaphor for the way trauma traps you in the past or warps your personality, which works really well Binghe’s brand of always being steps away from snapping, the number of steps being inversely proportion to how many steps away Shizun is XD

But idk I’m kind of craving ghost SY. And he’s not like a movie idea ghost, where the ghosts are bombastic set-pieces like Binghe.

I mean like a made-for-TV ghost. He’s like an episode of the week type of ghost.

Underwhelming-side-plot character type of ghost,

some type of Ghost Stories type beat,

where the “unfinished business” is something as stupid as “wanting to eat a meatbun for the last time”

(And like, the episode’s resolving twist is that it turns out this is his dying wish... bc he died eating one …And eating it jogged his memories of his death, so now he can finally move on…

lol the ratings on that one would be show cancelling levels of bad lol)

Or like, maybe he died before he could find out the ending of his most hated web novel. So now his unfinished business is finishing the web novel.

Except it KEEPS updating every day, so he just keeps getting dragged out of the afterlife, wandering the earth in a fit of pique, because of course Airplane keeps beating his dead horse of a novel like he’s competing with SpongeBob or The Simpsons for deadest horse.

And here comes Binghe, Psychic Extraordinaire, a famous TV celebrity from his show where he solves unfinished business like it’s nobody’s business (that’s his catchphrase lol).

And he thinks he solves SY easy by just pulling up his laptop up to Zhongdian, like BOOM easy case, another one for his perfect record, complete with a beautiful scene of Shen Yuan sailing off into the sunset.

Only for SY to show up the next day, like “yeah yeah sorry about your perfect record, mister Psychic, but you can’t blame me for this! Blame that shitty author!!

And in this case, instead of ghosts being a metaphor for trauma, they're a metaphor for when a shitty show keeps getting renewed past its prime.

[theminecraftbee]

hermit horror week day 1: season 8 or game mechanics

His teeth still taste like blood.

He's locked inside the belly of the Octagon. He doesn't know when he got there, but whoever wrestled him into it was smarter than Ren. They realized the full moon's light didn't reach the wiring. They realized it would give him time to down wolfsbane and silver nitrate. It also gave him time to throw it all up in the corner. If Doc were here, he'd be scolding Ren on the fact that silver nitrate is still a toxin and a disinfectant, and he should still be taking it in small doses, no matter how badly he wants to poison the wolf.

He curls up, shuddering, against the wires and pipes that power the shop. He feels thin and gaunt. He hopes he has not had much to eat. He doesn't have a phone or communicator on him. He doesn't know the day. It doesn't matter what the day is. The moon's visible during the daytime, too. It may have only been a night. It may have been weeks. It's probably at least been days.

He throws up again, because wolfsbane is poisonous too.

Most things that can keep a wolf down are poisonous. Ren doesn't have to take them often. He's normally... controlled. A tamed wolf on the full moon. He has a pack to run with. He doesn't need to poison himself to keep the wolf at bay. He doesn't need to take silver nitrate like it's a medicine and not a reagent.

But none of this is making his teeth stop tasting like blood. His shirt is covered in it, too. His legs. His face, he thinks--he can't see his reflection in here. He wouldn't know. But it would have to be. There's so much blood on him.

He doesn't have a scratch on him.

The only thing that stops him, then, from taking more silver nitrate is that if he respawns from the poison damage, he'll respawn out under the moon. He'll respawn back out there. And then--

He shudders. He folds himself into a tighter ball against the belly of the Octagon. In a shaking voice, he cries out for Doc again. Doc has to be nearby. Doc has to be nearby. Because if he isn't--

No one answers. Ren doesn't know who locked him in here. He wonders if it was a struggle.

He's covered in blood.

It smells horribly good. Ren feels dizzy. He's gaunt. He's so hungry. He'll hold that to his chest. He's hungry and sick, not simply sick. If he weren't hungry--if he weren't hungry--

But he's not as hungry as he should be, if it's been days, and he's covered in blood, and he resists the urge to howl, a long, mournful thing. He doesn't want to howl, or bark, or anything else right now.

Instead he cries, a human thing, and holds onto it tightly while he waits for the pain in his stomach and the shudders over his skin and the grey stains where he'd grabbed the bottle and the vomiting to end, so he can take another dose, and force the wolf further down. Down enough to be safe.

Down enough that he didn't maul his friends to death.

Down enough that he can know if he did.

Down enough that he won't try to leave again, as he knows he will, as the moon shines outside, and as soon as someone tries to open the door to rescue him, letting that light back in.

[hayatheauthor]

Ghouls, Ghosts & Poltergeists: What's The Difference?

When it comes to the supernatural, the terms ghouls, ghosts, and poltergeists often get thrown around interchangeably. However, each of these entities has distinct characteristics that set them apart. Whether you're a paranormal enthusiast, a horror writer, or simply curious, understanding the differences can enhance your appreciation of the spectral world.

Ghouls: The Graveyard Dwellers

Origin and Mythology Ghouls are creatures rooted in ancient Arabian folklore, often depicted as demonic beings that dwell in graveyards and consume human flesh. The term "ghoul" comes from the Arabic word "ghūl," meaning "to seize" or "to take." They are often seen as monstrous beings that prey on the dead and sometimes the living.

Appearance and Behavior Traditionally, ghouls are depicted as decaying, grotesque figures with a penchant for haunting cemeteries. They are known for their ability to shapeshift, sometimes taking the form of animals to lure their prey. Unlike ghosts and poltergeists, ghouls are corporeal, meaning they have a physical presence that can interact with the material world in a gruesome and tangible way.

Cultural Impact Ghouls have made their way into various cultures and media, often symbolizing death and decay. They appear in literature, films, and video games, usually as menacing creatures to be feared and fought. Their depiction varies, but their essence as flesh-eating, cemetery-dwelling beings remains consistent.

Ghosts: The Restless Spirits

Origin and Mythology Ghosts are the spirits of deceased individuals who have not found peace in the afterlife. Belief in ghosts is widespread, transcending cultures and eras. They are often thought to linger due to unfinished business, unresolved emotions, or a tragic death.

Appearance and Behavior Ghosts are typically depicted as ethereal, translucent figures that may resemble their former human selves. They can appear as full-bodied apparitions or as mere shadows and mists. Ghosts are known for their ability to pass through solid objects, and they often haunt specific locations tied to their past lives, such as homes, battlefields, or places of death.

Cultural Impact Ghost stories are a staple of folklore and have been passed down through generations. They appear in a wide array of media, from classic literature like "Hamlet" to modern horror films like "The Conjuring." Ghosts often evoke a mix of fear, sadness, and curiosity, reflecting our own fears and fascinations with death and the afterlife.

Poltergeists: The Noisy Spirits

Origin and Mythology The term "poltergeist" comes from the German words "poltern" (to make noise) and "geist" (ghost or spirit). Poltergeists are believed to be mischievous or malevolent spirits that cause physical disturbances, such as loud noises and the movement of objects. Unlike traditional ghosts, poltergeists are often associated with specific individuals rather than locations.

Appearance and Behavior Poltergeists are typically invisible and manifest their presence through physical actions rather than visual apparitions. Common poltergeist activities include knocking, banging, object displacement, and even physical attacks. These disturbances often escalate over time, creating a sense of fear and chaos for those affected.

Cultural Impact Poltergeists have been a popular subject in paranormal investigations and horror media. The infamous "Enfield Poltergeist" case in the 1970s, for instance, drew significant media attention and inspired numerous books and films. Poltergeists challenge our understanding of the supernatural by interacting with the physical world in inexplicable ways.

Conclusion

While ghouls, ghosts, and poltergeists all belong to the realm of the supernatural, they each offer unique elements to the tapestry of paranormal lore. Ghouls, with their corporeal form and ghastly habits, bring a sense of physical horror rooted in ancient mythology. Ghosts, as the restless spirits of the deceased, embody our deepest questions and fears about the afterlife. Poltergeists, with their noisy and often violent disruptions, blur the lines between the seen and unseen worlds.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[unicyclehippo]

touch

‘you know i’m like this all the way down, don’t you? it isn’t - it isn’t an act, i do laugh it off sometimes dear, it can be terribly funny but. i am like this. forever. and it’s—could you—do you think you might be able to withstand that for a long time? i should like to be with you for a long time but it would depend on - on when you get exhausted, you see, because i must live with this or - ha - not live with, i suppose, but survive, contend, with this for however long i shall live but you, well.’ laudna’s twists her face into graceful acceptance. soft, understanding, hardly sad at all. it’s very easy to do, once you have the trick of it. ‘you needn’t. deal with this. the bark and the hair and the nails. the popping joints. the ichor, the aches, the smell, the stares, the rot.’ the word drops between them, gross, embarrassing, like she’d spat by accident. her teeth are hatesharp in her mouth. ‘the teeth,’ she adds.

imogen looks up from the book she studies with such careful, wonderful intent. so smart. she quirks a brow, amused. ‘i know what you are, laud. you forget we’ve been travellin’ together awhile now?’

‘no, no.’ her stomach twists, her hands twist, knot, roots. so is she, rooted in place. ‘i know, dear, i only mean to remind you—should you need a moment to yourself, or, or should something in particular sicken you—‘

‘laudna.’

she sinks low. imogen isn’t listening. of course not. she is kind. she lo-hmm. yes, well, laudna can surmise imogen likely loves her. which is, well, lovely! but they haven’t been in love for very long and laudna has never done it before, romance, love, but she knows herself. how she clings to things. she knows herself. love to her is like…tar. sticky and black, bubbling and pouring up and up around their ankles their calves their knees her beautiful knees. if imogen doesn’t know that now then gods help her, what if she drowns her—them—in it? and she would, imogen would stay with her she would be pleased by it, even, because she loves her, but there is something wrong with it. impossible to know if it has always been this or if it’s all the death and the accessories she’s obtained through it—lady d, trauma, blah blah blah—but she thinks she has a capacity for love like a pyre, grease-fire and rising choking smoke; like a hungry dog, snapbite shut around the hand outstretched. and she knows what she wants for imogen, the kind of love she deserves, and how far it is from what she has to offer.

‘what are you afraid of, honey?’

laudna nibbles at her bottom lip. she takes up the bone she has been carving and turns it between her fingers, not wanting to see the moment imogen sees her, maskless, exposed.

‘i want to hold you until we both die,’ laudna says, sad and sweet. ‘i want to lay down in a grave with you side by side and i shall never move again and every worm that comes to eat us up will be little versions of us, because they’ve fed on us, and they will be in love and they’ll feed all the farms and chickens and we’ll be a thousand souls in love. i want to open up your scars and see what is under your skin, what your magic does under there. i want,’ she says, and folds her elbows close to her rotten chest, folds herself small, words small, so not a page stirs, not another soul could be stirred by what she admits. ‘i want to taste it. i want to grow into a tree and grow around you like armour like a second skin so you are always safe and maybe grow taproots, grow into you. through you. i want you as part of me forever. i want to touch you, i want to always be touching you, i want you to never be able to move without feeling me beside you, i want you to crack me open and see how vile it is inside of me and plunge in neck deep and when you struggle to get out, i want to hold on.’ she pauses. ‘i want to dislocate my jaw.’

imogen sits very still. her eyes very dark. she lets out a slow breath, pink tongue flicking out to wet her lips. ‘what-‘ she clears her throat. ‘what does that last one have to do with me?’

‘it doesn’t really. but. i’ll always be quite horrible to be around and i want you to be with me anyway.’

[aurae-rori]

"the abhorrent detestation of the gods" as a joke in a matt rose video but i took it literally and im gonna turn it into a horror prompt who's in for my brainstorming its 12am i am READY to DO HORROR!!!!1