#i love horror that makes me Feel the anticipation building up in me

[monogramsalarm]

okay actual review of the autopsy of jane doe is that i absolutely LOVED the atmosphere it created, it had a mildly claustrophobic feeling as things started to escalate and they were still in the same room through most of the movie, and the audio cues of the same children’s song coming over the radio and the BELLS ON THE FEET OF THE CORPSES fantastic i LOOOVE atmospheric horror

AND the fact that jane doe was an actual actress and not just a mannequin on a table was FANTASTIC it really set an uneasy tone of “oh this person looks like she could move at Any Second” even tho it’s a cadaver, LOVE love loved that

[axeeglitter]

Transformation in the Night

Elliot could feel the anticipation building as he and Jake discussed the plans for the next morning. Jake was eagerly awaiting the delivery of a new off-road motorcycle, something he’d been talking about for weeks. But with an early morning meeting on the schedule, Jake wouldn’t be home to receive it. That’s why Elliot was staying over, to make sure the delivery was taken care of. But it wasn’t just about helping a friend; there was something more, something deeper that drew Elliot to Jake’s garage and the machines that filled it.

“You’re sure you’re cool with it?” Jake asked, handing Elliot a beer as they settled in for the night. “I know it’s early, and I feel bad having you handle this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Elliot replied with a smile as he took his headphones out of his ears before putting his phone on the bench next to him. “I’m happy to help. Besides, it gives me a chance to check out the bike before you do.” He added with a wink.

Jake laughed and shook his head. “Just don’t get too attached before I get back. I know how much you love these machines.”

Elliot chuckled along, but inside; he was containing his feelings for his best friend. Sure, it all started as a common passion for motorcycles they could both share together. But after a while it evolved, at least for Elliot. He started to have feelings for Jake, and every second away from him was getting more and more painful. He really had a crush on him but he couldn’t talk to his best friend about it. He was way too afraid to lose him and not being able to spend valuable time and multiple laughs with him anymore. The fear of losing not only his crush but his best friend at the same time was just way too hard to imagine. So, Elliot stood there and didn’t say a word about it.

Later that night, after Jake had gone to bed, Elliot found sleep elusive. He couldn’t find sleep knowing that he was so close and yet so far from the love of his life. He started to turn around in his empty bed and after some minutes turning back and forth between the sheets, he decided to watch some videos on his phone to find sleep. It always works. But as he turned to the bedside table to grab it, he realized it was not there. "Great, I must have forgotten it somewhere" he reminded himself. And after a couple of second remembering the day, he realized it must be still on the bench in the garage.

Unable to resist, Elliot quietly slipped out of bed and made his way to the garage. The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit space that was Jake’s workshop. The familiar smell of oil and metal filled his senses, grounding him even as his heart raced. His phone still lay forgotten on the workbench where he’d left it earlier, but as Elliot was about to grab his phone to go back to bed, his attention was drawn to a pile of mechanical parts glinting under the faint light. The parts seemed to shimmer, almost as if they were waiting for him.

Compelled by a force he didn’t fully understand, Elliot approached the heap of parts. His hand hovered over a sleek gear, feeling an inexplicable connection to it. But as he reached out, his foot slipped on a slick puddle of oil. He stumbled forward, crashing into the pile. The cold metal pressed against his skin, and suddenly, a surge of energy coursed through him, an intense, burning heat that spread rapidly through his body.

Panic seized him as his body began to change. He looked down in horror as his skin rippled, the flesh draining of color, hardening into something cold and metallic. His hands fused together, the fingers thickening and taking a black rubbery texture. The transformation climbed up his arms, bones snapping and grinding as they morphed into the front fork and trapped his fused rubber hands between them. The pain was intense, but beneath it, a dark, twisted pleasure began to take hold, a sense of satisfaction as though he was finally becoming something greater. Elliot tried to comprehend what was happening to him and to his train of thoughts, why was he thinking that? What was happening? But as was looking for answers while trying to scream for Jake to help him, his voice got shut down by an excruciating change in his torso.

His chest started to reform; Elliot’s breath grew ragged. His lungs felt heavy, the air replaced by a mechanical weight. His ribs cracked and expanded, reshaping into the rigid frame of a motorcycle. His skin split open, revealing a network of wires and cables where his organs should have been. His heart beat frantically, one last time, before being overtaken by the steady, powerful thrum of an engine deep within his chest.

His spine elongated, each vertebra fusing into a solid metal framework. His back arched, the muscles thickening and hardening into the bike’s chassis. Inside, his organs liquefied, replaced by the cold precision of machinery. The loss of his human body was terrifying, He was lost in spiraling fear as he was feeling his humanity starting to slip away from his rubber hands.

His legs twisted and contorted, the bones snapping and reshaping into shock absorbers and forks. The skin on his thighs peeled away, revealing thick, rugged tires beneath. His feet flattened, the toes merging into thick rubber treads. Every part of his lower body was consumed by the transformation, leaving nothing but the raw, mechanical power of a bike.

The searing heat surged toward his groin; an area that had remained untouched until now. Elliot gasped as he felt his manhood, once a symbol of his identity, begin to change. The flesh twisted and contorted, the sensitive skin hardening into cold, unfeeling metal. The pain and pleasure combined, overwhelming his senses as his cock stated to elongate and he felt running on the side of his torso as it grew longer and longer, colder and colder. Then he felt the tip of his cock head starting to narrow and opening up. Elliot turned his head to realize his cock was turning into the exhaustion pipe. As he tried to scream for help one more time, his voice was once again cut by the feeling of tingling in his balls as they started to grow and empty before reforming into the fuel tank. The last piece of his humanity becoming a crucial part of the machine. He turned his head one last time towards his manhood only to realize it was gone for good, and with that realization what was left of his humanity started to slip even further from him.

Elliot’s mind began to blur as his head and face stated to change into the handlebars and the control panel. The memories of who he was, of Jake, their friendship, fading away like distant echoes. His thoughts were being overwritten, replaced by the instincts and drives of the machine he was becoming. The urge to race, to feel the earth beneath his tires, to push his new body to its limits consumed him, driving out the last remnants of his human consciousness. But as the transformation neared its completion, he found himself trapped, still fully aware, still fully human within the unyielding metal frame of the bike. He could feel everything, the cold metal, the tension in the cables, the pressure in the tires, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t scream for help. His soul trapped into an inanimate object that needed a driver in order to come to life.

In a final, climactic moment, Elliot’s phone, still lying on the workbench, began to warp and twist. The screen flickered and then darkened as the circuits and wires fused into something new. The device shrank, reshaping itself into a small, metallic key. The phone, once a part of Elliot’s human life, had now become the key to his new form.

Elliot stood there for hours, stuck in the dark and trapped into this new heavy body that he couldn’t move on his own. He felt the weight of his new mechanics on his tire hands and feet, the coldness of his skin turned metallic, the dust floating in the garage landing on his ass turned leather seat. He could sense it all but yet he couldn’t do anything. His only hope was Jake when he’ll get back from work. Jake will save him; He is sure he will.

As Elliot lay there, motionless, he heard the distant sound of the garage door creaking open. Relief flooded him. Jake was coming, he would see what had happened, he would save him. But as Jake stepped into the garage, Elliot’s hope turned to horror. Jake didn’t seem to see the twisted, tragic transformation that had taken place. He didn’t see his best friend trapped inside the machine. To Jake, it was just a bike, his brand new bike, nothing more.

“Wow,” Jake murmured, approaching the motorcycle with awe. “You really are a beauty.”

Elliot tried to scream, to move, to do anything to get Jake’s attention, but his new form betrayed him. He was frozen, his mind trapped within the cold, unfeeling metal. As Jake’s hand brushed against the handlebars, a shiver of terror ran through Elliot. This was all wrong, Jake was supposed to help him, not admire the monstrous form he’d become.

Jake’s fingers found the key resting on the bench. He picked it up, admiring its weight and slick design, not knowing it had once been Elliot’s phone. Without hesitation, Jake inserted the key into the ignition. Elliot saw jake approaching at fast path towards him with the key. And suddenly he understood what Jake was about to do. Elliot started to beg in his mind. “No, please Jake no, Don't do that, no no NO NO NOOOO! N…………….” The moment it clicked into place; a jolt of energy surged through Elliot’s mind. He felt the key connect directly to his brain, a final, agonizing spark of awareness that told him this was the end as his train of thought was gone and ejected through his exhaustion pipe into a cloud of smoke that contained his humanity.

The engine roared to life beneath Jake’s hand, a powerful, deep rumble that echoed through the garage. Jake grinned, unaware of the tragedy that had just unfolded.

“Where the hell did Elliot go?” he muttered to himself, glancing around the garage. But the thought was fleeting, "Nevermind, I'm sure he went back home to recharge his phone. It's almost like he can't live without it." his attention was entirely on the bike, on the raw power thrumming beneath his touch.

With a contented sigh, Jake swung his leg over the bike and revved the engine. The machine beneath him responded eagerly, as if it were alive, as if it knew exactly what Jake wanted. And in a way, it did. As Jake rode out of the garage, the only thing left of Elliot was the bike itself, forever bound to the machine that Jake would ride, never knowing the truth.

Jake sped off down the road in the diretion of the forest, the wind whipping past him, the thrill of the ride filling him with exhilaration. The bike roared beneath him, powerful and responsive.

The road stretched out ahead, and with each mile, the memory of Elliot faded into the background of Jake’s mind, replaced by the pure, unbridled joy of the ride.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey everyone! Hope you enjoy this story. It's a first for me to publish an inanimate story, so I hope you'll appreciate this style and this theme. I wrote this story for @artificial-transmutations, if you don't know him, go check his content out. He truly is one of the best writers out here. As always, let me know what you think of this one and feel free to message me or send requests if you have any ideas that could be good stories and I'll see what I can do with them! In the meantime, take care and see you soon for more content! :)

[poisonlove]

Break up | j.o

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader

It was a cold and foggy day in Romania, the gray sky seemingly merging perfectly with the gloomy and surreal atmosphere surrounding the set of Wednesday, Tim Burton's new project. I was walking down the corridor leading to the lounge, nervously clutching my jacket around me. The damp and biting air seemed to penetrate to the bone, but the tension inside me was even more oppressive. It had been three months since I last saw Jenna. Between my commitment to a horror film set in Los Angeles and Jenna’s long days of filming, our lives had intertwined in a chaos of distance and frenzy. That’s why I had decided to surprise my girlfriend.

"Hey." I nervously smiled at Emma, while her blue eyes sparkled with amusement, noticing my agitation.

"Jenna’s in there," she said with a smirk, pointing me toward the direction that would lead me to my girlfriend.

I nodded in understanding and made my way to the door that led to the lounge. The room was large but relatively quiet: a coffee machine in one corner of the room, a table, chairs, and a sofa at the other end. A few staff members were bustling around with cameras and props, my eyes searching for the one I loved and admired so much.

There she was.

Jenna was sitting on the sofa, her usual headphones around her ears, allowing her to isolate herself from the world while flipping through what looked like a script. I approached her, my heart pounding, and positioned myself in front of her. Her brown eyes slowly scanned my figure, so slowly that I could feel my heartbeat increase by the second. When her eyes met mine, I sighed and gave a spontaneous smile.

"Hi," I said with a small smile on my lips.

Jenna took off her headphones and left them around her neck.

She blinked in surprise. "I wasn’t expecting this," she murmured timidly, making me frown in confusion.

She got up from the sofa and gave me a quick hug, but it felt so strange and forced. "Is everything okay?" I asked nervously, a strange feeling creeping into my gut.

Jenna took a step back and looked at me without blinking, a small smile on her lips. "Yes... I’m just tired," she replied, her gaze drifting off into space. "This project is draining me."

I nodded, trying to smile in a way that would ease the tension. "I understand, maybe we can spend some time together afterward... you know, watch a movie or something."

"I don’t know, I have a cello lesson," she said calmly, her tired eyes meeting mine. Huge dark circles underlined the sleepless nights she had been through.

"Dinner, maybe?" I asked hopefully.

Jenna nodded timidly, but there was no enthusiasm on her face, only acknowledgment. I placed my hands on her waist and leaned in to capture her lips with mine. The kiss was mechanical. Her lips, once soft and warm, were now cold and distant.

Something was wrong.

"Jenna, can we talk?" I asked in concern. Something was off, and I needed answers.

She sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall, frowning. "Break’s almost over, I have to get back to the set."

Frustration started to build.

"It won’t take long, I promise," I insisted. I felt my voice tremble, but I couldn’t let this slip away without an explanation.

I took Jenna’s hand and led her toward the exit of the lounge. The biting cold hit my face immediately, making me feel the chill down to my bones. Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shield herself from the icy wind as her eyes watched me with a mix of anticipation and frustration. She quickly glanced around, almost cautiously, making sure no one was nearby before turning her attention back to me.

"What’s going on, Jenna?" My voice was a whisper, my fear too evident. I couldn’t ignore this distance between us.

She looked at me for a long moment, her expression impassive as if she were trying to find the right words. Finally, she sighed loudly. "Nothing, I’m just tired from work."

"Jenna..." I started, immediately picking up on her lie.

"Really, it’s nothing," she said with a smile.

"It’s not true," I insisted, the anger of being deceived taking over. "I know you, Jenna. Please, tell me what’s going on," I pleaded with a small voice, fear growing in my chest.

A tense silence settled between us, and my nervousness grew with each passing second. Jenna lowered her gaze, then raised it again with a look full of unease, as if a secret torment was consuming her. "I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what I want... We... we’ve been moving too fast," she finally admitted, her voice faltering with hesitation.

The realization hit me.

"What? Are you trying to say that..." I started, tears threatening to spill at any moment. No, it couldn’t be true. All the months spent together, the video calls, the kisses... Everything made sense.

Jenna looked at me with guilt.

"I..." she began, tears welling up in her eyes. Her lower lip trembled, and the awareness of what was about to happen hit me like a punch to the stomach.

"I’m exhausted, y/n," she admitted.

I quickly shook my head, unable to accept her words. "We can make it, Jenna. We can do it together," I suggested nervously, unwilling to give up so easily.

Jenna shook her head, making me feel an intense pain in my chest. "No, y/n. The distance, the work, all of this is hurting me," she confessed.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"It’s over between us," she murmured.

The world collapsed around me. There was nothing left to do; Jenna had already made her decision. I looked at her in pain, tears running down my cheeks as she gazed at me with sadness, the pain visible on her face.

"I’m sorry..." she added in a broken voice.

I bit my lower lip, trying to stifle a sob, and bowed my head, hiding my emotions. My heart was shattered, and a feeling of emptiness dominated my stomach. It was over. I turned my back and walked away from the set, the awareness that Jenna had left me dominating my thoughts.

Don’t turn back. Don’t turn back. Don’t go to her to try to change her mind. Don’t look into her eyes.

Don’t do anything.

Just move forward, even though the world had fallen apart.

[just-null]

i have come here to personally thank you for giving me more than i asked for 🙏🏻 i am utterly grateful like IDJFKDKKFODOD 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ it made me so happy the last doodle has my heart he is so cute i will eat him

also there is a DROUGHT out there for us noritoshi fans like im living on CRUMBS its insane and omg dont even talk to me abt how it feels like to be a kashimo and ino lover (altho they are getting a bit more love now) my nori is still underrated :/ sooo hence im asking ur hand in friendship and in exchange i promise to share my hcs with you abt nori my sweet lil meow meow we're in this together 💪🏻💪🏻

also since its October, do you think he likes horror movies? i feel like he can withstand gory movies but its the jumpscares that get him and he wont tell u he's scared when u watch one with jumpscares owkfkdkd imagine him hiding his face against ur shoulder or something 😭😭😭 (i used to do that with my dad when we watched horror movies and i used to be like im not scared😤😤 when he asked if i was lmfao thats where this hc stemmed from)

N. NORITOSHI HIDING IN YOUR SHOULDER OR SUPPRESSING HIS REACTIONS TO THE JUMPSCARES....... WAS IT AN INVOLUNTARY REACTION TO USE YOU TO HIDE??????? WAS IT BUILT UP TRUST????? DID HE GROW USED TO HOLDING ONTO YOU WHEN HE GETS SURPRISED BECAUSE HE WANTS TO MAKE SURE HE HAS HIS VALUABLES SAFE????????? WAS IT A MOMENT WHERE HIS MIND JUST INSTINCTIVELY GRABBED THE FIRST THING HE WANTED TO PROTECT/BE PROTECTED BY???????? OH MY FUCK.

he's probably used to gore and gritty stuff like that since he sees it often being a jujutsu sorcerer and all. not to mention his technique is literally blood. maybe he's desensitized to gore films, the most you'll get from him is a disgusted scowl.

BUT DID YOU SEE HOW QUICK HIS EYE OPENED WHEN HANAMI SHOWED UP BEHIND HIM. YOURE SO FUCKING FR ABT JUMPSCARES. Noritoshi is that guy who wouldn't scream or yelp but gasp really loudly and jump out of his skin.

i feel like they get him most in horror because of the music building up anticipation. if its one of those fake outs where the jumpscare comes a bit after, he's fucked UP. It makes him instantly miffed, as he tries to regain his composure. He swears he's not usually like this, it got him by surprise is all..!

Noritoshi is the type that'd only watch a horror movie if the story is rich and complex. He's the type of guy to like open endings that make you think.. if it's a guilty pleasure movie where all the protags make stupid decisions, he gets annoyed right off the bat.

He's groaning and complaining about how imbecile the characters are, but would still watch it with you because you personally invited him. If he's lucky you could fall asleep on his shoulder or [insert movie cliche here] how could he pass that up? But Noritoshi wouldn't be able to focus on you if he gets twice as annoyed because its a bad movie + jumpscares. it still startles him, but the movie is so terrible, he's embarrassed it got him, especially in front of you!!!

if you get involved and you tell him to quiet down, Noritoshi would shift his focus towards you. like that awkward guy who thinks he's being smooth and lowkey about how he cuddles up next to you. He wants to be the tough guy who's shoulder you can hide in, and he is!! just not.. with jumpscares.......

[scaly-freaks]

“Milk Carton” — Self-explanatory, it was the only song I could think of that has the perspective of someone who survived a kidnapping. I also believe that establishing what is going to happen in the beginning helps build up a sense of dread. We know that a kidnapping is going to happen, we just don't know when.

“In the Pines” — A truly haunting song. The song was originally written by Lead Belly, but the first time I heard it was this Kurt Cobain documentary called Montage of Heck, where the final scene is Kurt performing the song at MTV Unplugged. There’s this moment in the song where Kurt makes this face that is absolutely chilling, almost like he’s Colonel Kurtz staring into the heart of darkness. The lines, “you caused me to weep, you caused me to moan, you caused me to leave my home / I wish to my Lord that I’d never seen your face / I’m sorry you were ever born,” also felt pertinent. All in all, I felt it sets the Southern setting, especially the North Carolina region, where you say Aegon takes Amara.

“Rampage” — I felt that this accurately captured Aegon’s demeanour. I don’t know whether they might have known each other prior to her abduction, but most kidnappings occur with someone who knows you. There will be a lot of songs where you just feel looming dread, and this is the first of them. “Milk Carton” is disturbing, but there’s no dread, because there’s no anticipation. Whereas “Rampage,” I’m going to assume, seems to be spoken from the perspective of a lover of a boy whom, it’s heavily implied from the references to the Columbine Shooters and Tate Langdon in American Horror Story, is ultimately going to shoot up a school. When I was a kid, my parents would play this song called, “Six O’Clock News,” about a woman whose lover goes on a shooting rampage, who has just learned she’s pregnant with his child. I always was very shaken by that song, and I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have loved someone who committed such atrocities; just the sheer guilt, the discomfort regarding how to mourn them, the thoughts of I should have known, I should have seen the signs…was unthinkable for me as a child, and is unthinkable now. In “Creek Blues,” another song from the same album as “Rampage,” you sort of get this mosaic of such “signs.” He shows the speaker his daddy’s guns, he kills dogs and leaves them to die by the nearby creek. I think, for me, I wanted to build up a sense of dread over the songs, until it reaches its pinnacle, sort of this mounting pile of evidence that something terrible is going to happen. I discuss the notion of warning signs in relation to violence and abuse in the explanation for “Sometime After Midnight.”

“It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” — Chosen mostly because it inspired this creepy, creepy short story that we read in high school, about the immediate moments preceding the abduction of a teenage girl from her home. Incredibly unsettling story, and absolutely heartbreaking. The story, called “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” was adapted into a movie in the 80’s. Honestly considering removing it, given that I’m trying to build up dread, and it’s not really a dreadful song. Let me know if you think it should stay.

“Sometime After Midnight”— I wanted to convey a sense of looming doom; there’s this moment in W.G. Sebald’s The Emigrants, where there’s this extensive idyllic depiction of Bavaria, and then this war plane crosses the sky. This section starts out with the understanding that it’s the account of a character’s mother, and that she wrote it while awaiting deportation to a Nazi death camp. And this endows the image of the war plane cutting across this clear blue sky above this bucolic Bavarian landscape with a feeling of absolute dread; they have no idea what is going to happen. It’s the equivalent to the tomb in Arcadia, or the ending of Irréversible: it’s a portent of doom. “Sometime After Midnight” is one such prelude; the speaker remarks to herself that she knows that she spent all day getting ready for the date, but that she has this feeling in her stomach that makes her feel uneasy. She remarks that she’s been told that bad things happen after dark, and then looks at the setting sun. It’s the equivalent to a puzzle piece falling into place. I do truly believe that there is an intuition that people have that something’s off, and that many, especially women, choose to ignore this feeling, tell themselves that they’re being silly or paranoid, only to realize that their gut was right. It’s meant to convey dread, and banality. While the speaker may have considered her day preparing for the date innocuous, just a bit of fun, in retrospect, the day will become far more significant.

            I was too young to remember 9/11, but when I’ve asked my parents and my friends’ parents their stories of that day (I grew up very close to New York), they all reacted differently—my boyfriend's dad saw the second tower get hit from the train window, and stayed on the train, my friend's dad was in the South Tower and ran to the Hudson to get on one of the many boats that were trying to take people off Manhattan—but one thing detail was the same in all of their stories: there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky that day. The reason why this detail has crystallized in their head is because they should have known. It was only in retrospect that the day that began like any other became that day. We trace the final day of murder victims, what they wore, their last words to their parents and loved ones, because we want to prepare ourselves for the possibility that our banal, commonplace lives could be torn apart at a moment’s notice, that one day we might walk out of a door and never be seen again. I believe that we have an intuition about people, but not about events. The speaker of “Sometime After Midnight” does not know that this is the last day; she may not have spoken to any of her parents or friends or loved ones but instead spent all of it getting ready for a date that will end in either her abduction or her demise. She may have a gut feeling, but by the time she feels it, it's already too late. This is her last day, and all that she can do is watch "the sky turn black by the window-side."

“Bad Things”— Another song that I felt exuded dread, although in this case, the fear actually becomes realized. The opening riff almost hits like a stuttering heart, with this insistent clapping noise; it immediately evokes both despair and anxiety. The song's chorus reads like a nursery rhyme you tell children: bad things happen, and you are powerless to stop them. The chorus is also apt for a kidnapping: you leave home, and you never come back. I had never been able to decipher the spoken part, but in looking at the lyrics, they’re really chilling, given that they’re spoken by Jim fucking Jones. The lyrics read as such: "You’d have wanted to run, you’d have had to run with them, because anybody could’ve run today, they would have wanted to. I know you’re not a runner and your life is precious to me.” It’s essentially Jim Jones gaslighting his followers in the leadup to their mass suicide, telling them that they actually have agency over their fates. They chose to stay and kill themselves alongside him, he argues, because they didn’t run when they could have. They freely chose to stay with him and die with him. But this isn’t true; the inner circle would punish those who attempted to escape, and the event that precipitated the Jonestown massacre was a group of Jones loyalists gunning down the Congressman Leo Ryan and defecting members of the People’s Temple on an air strip as they tried to leave. Jones manipulated his followers into believing they had a choice, that, if they wanted to leave, they could have, when they never did. I think I recall Aegon using this rationalization in Chapter 10 of YSMMC: it was Amara's choice to go to the cabin, so he bears no responsibility for any of the acts he felt licensed to subject her to as a result of this choice. And, as in Jonestown, Amara’s “choice” in YSMMC wasn’t much of a choice, because it was either that or a confrontation with Jace, and Aegon knew this, and exploited it to his advantage. He helped create the conditions that would cause her to choose. It all reminds me of when I was reading Chapter 17 of YSMMC, and I was reminded of this passage from Lolita:

“Get in,” I said. “You can’t call that number.”

“Why?”

“Get in and slam the door.”

She got in and slammed the door. The old garage man beamed at her. I swung on to the highway.

“Why can’t I call my mother if I want to?”

“Because,” I answered, “your mother is dead.”

In the gay town of Lepingville I bought her four books of comics, a box of candy, a box of sanitary pads… at the hotel we had separate rooms, but in the middle of the night she came sobbing into mine, and we made it up very gently. You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go. (140)

That is to say, Jim Jones, Humbert in Lolita, and Aegon in YSMMC all act as if the decision by their victims to have sex with them was their victims’ choice, when they were the ones who set up the conditions that forced their victims to do what the men say. And, even if Amara freely chose to go to the cabin, she didn't choose any of the acts Aegon subjected her to there. I figured that this would be the approach of Aegon in this AU; tell Amara that it was actually her choice. This song sort of represents the pinnacle of the lead-up: the kidnapping that we've been expecting has finally occurred.

Anyways, as always, thank you for the opportunity for me to sharpen my character analysis approach to get ready for school; the methodology that guides my interpretation of characters is essentially the New Critical close reading method, and requires that I reconcile all aspects of their character and actions with each other, to explain their motivations, etc. It's a great challenge to have to analyze characters when their writer is right there to correct you; you're a lot less likely to cast generalizing statements about characters; it's harder to pontificate falsehoods when God is right there, if that makes sense lol. It forces me to be much more discerning, and therefore hones my analytical process, so I thank you again for that!!! X Caroline

Absolutely insane descriptor behind each song in this playlist, and the thought put into them? Girl, you are going to ace your impending studies. I consider myself lucky that this silly little hobby I picked up attracted people who treat it as something real and genuine which then pushes me to improve.

I only really fix someone's analysis if I think it's interpreting a sensitive topic in a way that I don't think is conducive to open-minded discussion; that responsibility kind of feels like it falls on me to fix since it's my work they're reading.

But your analysis, as well as others who have had their interpretations, I love to ingest, because as a writer, it's so easy to feel like these characters are just mine. But in reality, I read an amazing book and I hold those characters in me in a way that the writer might not recognise or identify with. Someone might extract the gentleness of Aegon and Amara and want to hold that close, whereas I might have written that particular chapter/passage from a place of extreme violence and trauma. Both are correct because both are tangled up with human beings. And when someone gives me their approach, I get to experience this familiarity of my characters from a whole other vantage which is so, so fun.

I'm a fan of every song you've chosen, and even though I know I can't write this AU right now, the lyrics to each are painting scenes into existence. For instance, as I was reading (and listening), a scene came to me where Amara tries to escape from the moving truck, and when Aegon gets her back, he choke-slams her into the horizontal part of the seat, her neck bent at a crooked angle as her head hits the car door. He's kneeling on the gears and the brake, one arm angled up against the roof of the truck, crouched over her like a malignant beast in a painting. The physicality of him filling up the space while she curls up and tries to push at his chest with her feet...yeah.

The Lolita comparison and the instances in YSMMC where Aegon created an inescapable situation and then handed her the illusion of choice...YES. Exactly it. If we're speaking in terms Helaena would use, Amara is an insect missing several legs, and Aegon is the spider slowly spinning the web in circles around her. Or a ladybird around which he's drawing a shape and she keeps trying to avoid the new lines he's putting on the page, without realising she can just step over them. She regularly suffers from what I like to call a fuck fog but there's so much more happening when Aegon decides to actively manipulate her. The Targaryen trauma train is so real, and it's just inconceivable every single one of the siblings hasn't developed their own methods of "playing God" when things don't go their way.

Anyway, urgh, fucking juicy ask. Delicious. Nibbling on it like a chicken leg.

P.S. Before I forget, I didn't envision Aegon knowing her before he kidnapped her at first, but I sort of like that now. There's a scene in Room where she screams at her mother for telling her to "be nice to everyone" and that's why she helped her eventual kidnapper look for his dog that didn't even exist. Maybe Amara gave Aegon a smile in passing a few times at the place she worked, and it was never anything more complicated than that. A scrap of kindness he decided to poison and taint.

[dmitriene]

Heyyyy 😽 it's me again 👺👹 I was thinking, if you're up for uh take this order, or just skip it. I always see people writing about re4 Leon (And I really appreciate it OF COURSE) how handsome he is with his features, scars and such (and they are more than right) and so I was thinking about RE2 Leon this time, mainly because a few days ago my period arrived and I was literally crying at how "innocent" and adorable he was 😭😭 idk, just a thought of maybe *loving* how cute he was😭just adoring him, like waking up one morning with him (I also see people writing about this at the time of re4 with him, so I was inspired by that) and I think he would just be a sweet person, a sweetheart 😓😓😿❤️‍🩹🖐️😭

If it doesn't bother you, it could be a female reader? Tysm

Well, like I said, request this if you want or just ignore this nonsense, but if you're up for it, thanks in advance, I really *really* appreciate your writing 🥰😸🫶🩷🩵

(sorry for so many emojis, I got addicted)

꒰ 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵! 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢! 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘫𝘪𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦, 𝘪 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰!🤍 ˑ༄ ꒱

❝𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦❞ 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘦. ❝ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ❞ 𝘳𝘦2 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳. ❝ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ❞ 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘴, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴��𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱.

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

Leon had the ability to brighten up any room he entered with his infectious smile, it was a smile that could chase away the darkest shadows, a beacon of warmth and kindness that shone even in the face of the horrors he witnessed and the pain he held deep within himself.

The morning sun streamed through the windows, bathing the bedroom in a soft golden light, the soft, warm sheets tangled around you and you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over you.

Leon lay peacefully next to you, his tousled blond hair spilling across the pillow, his lips curled upward in a blissful smile even as he slept, a testament to the serenity he brought with him wherever he went.

You couldn't resist the urge to lean closer, your heart filled with love as you looked at him, the way he slept so peacefully despite the nightmares that often plagued him made your love for him burn even brighter.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, your feet touching the cool wooden floor, a soft, lacy robe clung to your form as you tiptoed out of the room, your heart racing with excitement.

Today was the day you would show Leon how much he meant to you, the day you would let your love shine as bright as his smile.

The aroma of brewing coffee and the sound of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen as you hummed a soft tune to yourself, moving with grace and purpose, anticipation building within you.

Leon always spoiled you, made every day a special event, but now it was your turn.

In the kitchen, you stood wearing an apron over your pajamas, your hair cascading down your face and you couldn't help but chuckle softly, imagining Leon in his own apron, nothing but underwear beneath, the mere thought sent a delightful shiver down your spine, but you focused on the task at hand.

With practiced precision, you flipped the pancake, the batter in the pan sizzled, the sizzling sound was music to your ears and your heart filled with pride at your culinary skills.

Leon would be proud.

Finally, breakfast was ready — a feast of crispy bacon, fluffy eggs, golden pancakes and a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee.

You arranged it all on a tray, making sure everything looked perfect, just like Leon would have done.

The tray felt a bit heavy in your hands as you carried it back to the bedroom, your excitement growing with each step, you couldn't wait to see the look on Leon's face when he woke up to this surprise.

Pushing open the bedroom door gently, you set the tray down on the bedside table, the room was bathed in the soft, golden light of morning, and Leon stirred, his smile deepening as he caught a whiff of the delicious breakfast.

— «Morning, sleepyhead» you whispered, your voice filled with love as you leaned down to kiss his nose softly.

Leon's eyes fluttered open, and he blinked at you in surprise, his blue orbs filled with sleep and wonder, he looked absolutely adorable in that moment, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

— «What's all this?» he muttered, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat as you leaned closer, your lips hovering just above his earlobe — «I wanted to surprise you» you admitted barely louder than a whisper — «You always do so much for me, Leon, i wanted to do something special for you»

Leon's gaze softened as he looked at you with an expression of pure love, he pushed the tray aside, not bothering with the food just yet, and pulled you into his arms, his warmth enveloped you, and you couldn't help but giggle.

— «What's so funny?» he asked, his lips curling into a playful smile.

— «You» you replied, your heart swelling with affection — «You're just so…adorable when you're surprised»

Leon chuckled, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on your back «Well, you've definitely succeeded in surprising me» he admitted — «And I couldn't be happier»

You smiled and nuzzled into his chest, relishing the feeling of being in his arms, the room was filled with an aura of love and comfort, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world didn't matter.

Leon sighed contentedly, his fingers trailing down your spine — «You know, I don't say it enough, but you mean the world to me» he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

Tears intuitively welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, not wanting to ruin the moment — «You mean the world to me too, Leon» you replied, your voice equally heartfelt.

Lying in each other's arms, you couldn't help but run your fingers over the scars and moles that adorned Leon's chest, each mark telling the story of the trials he faced, the horrors he endured, but they also showcased his resilience and bravery.

— «You're worth every moment, Leon» you whispered, your voice filled with swirl of emotions — «Every scar, every tear, every smile, you're worth it all»

Leon's grip on you tightened, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head — «I'm the lucky one» he said, his voice filled with gratitude — «Having you by my side makes everything worth it»

The two of you lay there for a while longer, wrapped in each other's warmth and love, breakfast might have gotten cold but neither of you minded, what mattered most was the connection you shared, the unspoken words that passed between you and the love that enveloped you like a warm, comforting blanket.

In that moment, you knew that you were indeed the luckiest girl in the world, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea, @kennedyswhore dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist.

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗𝖘 | 𝖗𝖞𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆 | 𝖎. 𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊

A.N. welcome to the first installment of my horror series! i hope you enjoy it and look forward to the rest of the month! cant wait to hear yalls feedback and thoughts!

WORD COUNT. 1065 words

WARNINGS. cannibalism, obsessions, obsessive love, mentions of cooked human flesh, yandere themes, non-con, horror

Please remember my blog is 18+ only, and does not cater, nor encourage, minors to interact. Minors are NOT welcome to interact with my works or blogs, as they contain mature content.

[ OCTOBER HORRORS MASTERLIST ]

got any requests? want more horror? wanna see a prompt for a different character? feel free to check out my [ HORROR SENTENCE THEMES ]

i. cleave. ryomen sukuna. jujutsu kaisen.

Cleave (捌はち Hachi?): A slashing attack that adjusts itself depending on the target's toughness and cursed energy level to cut them down in one fell swoop.

Dismantle (解カイ Kai?): Default slashing attack that is normally used for inanimate objects, however it can also be used against cursed spirits and sorcerers to great effectiveness.

一cleave and dismantle, sukuna, powers and abilities, jjk wiki

The King of Curses is not a kind, or empathetic building, finding humanity to be nothing other than a resource he can take and consume as he pleases. He hungers for the flesh of women and children, smites men for the pleasure of his power and the cravings for a mere display, holds an authority of a near-god and yet there are still those who wish to challenge him, foolishly, is to be added.

He picks at his teeth with a bone, broken, small and curved. You can only infer it’s from a larger one, a rib, you gather. Sukuna has overtaken Yuji once again, speaking their vow into existence at the worst time, and he’s lost himself in the glee and pleasures of the human body and what it offers to him.

Bones are scattered around the area as he lounges on a bed, hidden in one of the larger buildings, his cups and plates overfilled by his devout followers from times long gone. The area is dark and lit with lanterns, the air is dry and leaves your mouth watering, the stench of death and charred pork allows the bile to rise.

It was not pork.

You curse to yourself silently, eyes meeting the dual set of your lost friend, and the tears start behind your eyes. His features changed, you noted. The soft angle of his jaw is sharper, thicker, making his face wider than the young man's slimmer look. Large eyes have narrowed, making room for his extra set of eyes, his brows thinned and his cheek bones have lowered.

“Young one, you’ve interrupted my time alone, and leave me wondering what exactly you want from me… would you care to explain yourself?” His tone is musical, he entertains himself as you shake ever so slightly, he is fond of the soul that your body hosts, the long forgotten original he yearns to experience once again.

“Sukuna, the others are coming soon, and your time with Yuji is almost up.” You attempt to remain steady, your finger twitching in anticipation as your heart races, loud and thundering in your ears. Sweat beads at your scalp, above your brow, the heat in your neck and chest cause your anxiety to rise against the chill of your back and legs. Your voice was strong and steady, but your body language spoke otherwise, even as you stood as straight as you could.

“You’ve come to warn me, why is that?” He muses, grinning as he takes in the scent of your fear into account, he was fond of you for many reasons, of the memory you ignited in his head, and the way you act now. Small, soft, and your smell-

The smell of the most delectable meal he could have,

Sukuna was unwanted, an unloved, and unbearable being for the entirety of his human life, only respected and wanted for his power and authority once he had rebuilt himself after his death.

He remembered your face, the foreigner who came such a long way from home, a traveler who wanted to master their power and energy. He remembered your face, your hair, your eyes, your body. Gods, the body he held for so long, the body he gripped at and took many times, the body he admired and cared for, that he broke and rebuilt over and over.

The soul that came with the body was even more tantalizing, he drooled as you spoke and commanded others, watched with captured eyes as you entertained the young ones and the elderly, listened intently to the stories and knowledge from your tales from afar. He wanted everything, he wanted you so much then, so much he wanted to hold you close and press him to his skin. 

He wanted you closer, to crawl inside your skin and lay inside you, to crack your chest open and curl up in the warmth and the wetness inside, to taste the innermost parts of you and merge your being into his. 

His stomach turns at the thought, and he realizes he's okay with making a sacrifice just this once- to give into his urges just this once. He yearns to be with you, again, forever. Until your soul incarnates and your body comes back again.

Again.

You’ll come back again, he can’t allow you to leave, into the arms of another, even if he possesses the body of the boy.

“Because you still have Yuji's body, and I can’t let anything happen to him, to… you.” You answered, his blood pressure rises, adrenaline rushes through his body at that answer, he doesn’t care for the damned brat, he actively ignores that part, he only hears how you care for him.

For him.

Sukuna. 

He’s seen once again, he groans, empties his hands and stands up. Your guard is down and you relax slightly, he grins behind his poker face, and as you go to turn, finished with your discussion, you do not have time to comprehend his words.

“I’ll have you, just this once.” He stares, a hand gesture later, and your body splits at the joints, cut cleanly and thinly. You fall to the floor, and the scent he’s yearned for fills the air, he wants more and sticks his tongue out to lick the air.

His strides are long, confident, yet quick. Almost like a child running to his parents for a treat, a malicious giggle escapes him, and he licks his lips before bending over to pick your head up from the pile of freshly cut flesh. Your eyes have rolled back, gone before you could realize what happened, and his hands are gentle against the warm skin of your cheeks.

“All to myself, yes, this’ll do.” He’s softer now, bringing your head to his, a small kiss to your lips before holding it closely to his chest. He takes a deep breath, eyes dilated, before he calls for his long time friend.

What a delectable meal.

[zenkindoflove]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics

(Added side quest from @achaotichuman, tell me what inspired your fics, why you love them so much etc etc, tell me EVERYTHING)

I can only choose three?!? *cries* Okay, I'll try lol.

...And Again Into the Light (Elucien)- This is a fic I cowrote with @crazy-ache. After our joint writing adventure where we wrote Dear Lucien, Dear Elain, we wanted to write together again. I suggested we write a horror romance story because I thought it would be a fun co-writing genre because we could leave each other with both spooky and sexy cliffhangers for the other to pick up. And that is exactly what we did. When we write together, we start with a basic idea and structure and we really "yes, and..." the rest of the process. I really like writing horror. It's one of my favorite genres and this was an opportunity for both me and Ariana to play around in that sandbox. And I think we did a DAMN good job at it. I think it's a pretty unique piece too, which is kind of a theme we've had in the projects that we've co-written. We both were really inspired by the idea of Elain and Lucien being trapped in a haunted house together, and what we ended up creating was a interesting exploration of the mating bond (because duh, it's them) on top of all the haunts and scares that were going on.

Kneel Before Me (Elucien) - I wanted to include this one because it was the first fic that came to mind when I read this question. I love this fic because both the inspo and the premise is kind of unhinged for me. This fic was entirely driven by fandom ship war wank. At the time, the new ship war topic of discourse was whether or not Azriel really could defeat Lucien in a blood duel, and the takes were driving me nuts. So, Kneel Before Me was me channeling my rage into art. The premise is Azriel and Lucien spar on the HoW's roof top and Azriel eggs him on into a real fight that tests the theory of who would actually win in blood duel like circumstances, followed by some hot Elucien smut where I might have went a little crazy writing an excessive paragraph long description of Lucien's dick because all of the bat boy obsessions, wing span jokes, and just generally people forgetting Lucien's existence and that he's HOT. And hey, look. I know when I'm cooking and I fucking COOKED with this fic. Even though I did tag it anti-Azriel because I wanted to be upfront that the fic doesn't depict him in a positive light, I've had a lot of Azriel fans read it and confirm for me that they don't actually think it's anti-Azriel at all and they like the twist I incorporated that made it all make sense and feel in character. Because even if I'm being a little cracky, I can't help but want things to make sense for the characters as they are.

Summer Heat (Elucien + Erixius) - This fic is my big multichapter fic that is now turning into a series with the sequel I'll write once I'm done with Pull Me in Deeper. The inspiration was really simple. One of my falling asleep day dreams included Elucien having some fun and awkward flirty moments in awkward and making out on the beach and I was like, "okay I keep thinking about this so I should write it." It definitely is an example of my first outline way underestimated the story it became. I didn't even initially have a plan to have a significant Eric x OC side story but once I created Alexius it really just became an animal of its own. This story I think is some of my best work in that it really spans the spectrum of my skills - comedy, romance, smut, angst, and generally a decent plot. It's the first time I made an OC. I did some new world building. And from experimenting with those the story blew up into something way bigger. I anticipate Golden Visions, the sequel, to be an even longer story which sort of gives you a perspective on how much I was inspired by both of those processes. At its core, I really wanted Summer Heat to be a romantic comedy. And I think it still has that essence but I'm not sure it can really be called that anymore with some of the angst and fantasy world building I built into it changed things. I also tried to write a slow burn for Elucien (and very much not a slow burn for Erixius) which I think I was successful at by my definition of a slow burn lol.

Thank you so much for this ask!!! This was so fun! I could write little paragraphs like this about all of my fics 🤣.

[goldenempyrean]

Empyrean’s Advent: Day 15

Prompt: “Im gonna get you some paracetamol.”

Pairing: WandaNat x R (Sick Reader)

Wordcount: 1163

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‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Working on Broadway was a blessing, you loved every moment of it. Preforming musicals had been your life-long passion, and nothing could ever make you happier. However, every blessing had its curse.

In your line of work, your voice was everything and everything depended on your ability to use it to its full potential. Over the last few months, you’d managed to land the lead role in the newest and most anticipated musicals of the year. This performance had the opportunity to sky-rocket your career. Meaning today was possibly one of the most important nights of your life, today was opening night.

You’d gotten into the studio early that morning to practice and you’d known something was off. The car-ride to the theatre was long as all and still you’d found yourself struggling to keep yourself awake despite having drunk two cups of coffee already that morning.

To make things worst, there was a soreness in the back of your throat which just refused to leave and it only worsened as the day progressed. And after hours of endless rehearsing, that soreness had quickly become painful, evening just swallowing hurt. And to top things off, you could feel pressure building deep inside your sinus’s leading to a dull-ache forming behind your eyes.

You had tried to hide your worsening condition, you really had. But any attempts at concealing how you felt was stripped away by the sound of your voice. It had taken on a raspy edge and congestion was beginning to blur your words. In truth, you sounded terrible, much to the horror of your stage-director.

“Y/N-“ He choked off as he heard the sound of your voice, “Your voice! You sound horrendous, how on earth are you meant to perform tonight!”

You tried to take a deep breath through your nose but failed, instead you spluttered, choking on your congestion,, “I’ll be fine, I probably just need some air.”

“No.” Your director stood firm in his words, “What you need is to go home. Its opening night, you can’t go out with your voice in that condition. You have an understudy for a reason. Do you need me to call your wives?”

The mention of them made you stop, they themselves had enough going on as it was, they didn’t need the added stress of worrying about you, “No, you don’t need too,” You sighed sat down on the small sofa in your dressing-room, “I just need to take a nap, i’ll be fine.”

Despite your statement, you hadn’t actually meant to fall asleep. But what shocked you even more was waking up to see Wanda and Natasha sat on the other small sofa opposite you, talking amongst themselves.

“Mm?” You tried to speak but found that the remains of your hoarse voice were all but lost, the noise you mumbled out was barely audible, just breathing alone hurt. It felt as if there was a truck pressing down onto your chest.

It took awhile for your eyes to adjust, it seemed as though the lights above you had grown indefinitely brighter since falling asleep and you rubbed at them until the worried faces of Natasha and Wanda came into focus.

“You finally awake?” Natasha whispered as she leant down to move the hair out of your face, “How you feeling darling?”

“Throat- hurts.” Was all the response you could muster up, the word’s scraped against the back of your reddening throat.

At the sound of your voice, Wanda and Nat looked back at each other in slight shock, you could barely speak. They’d never heard you sound that bad before, “Sweetie, you sound terrible, why did you come in? We could’ve looked after you.”

“Exactly, here let me just feel your throat for a sec,” Nat reached out and very carefully pressed the sides of your tonsils and her face dropped as you winced harshly at the touch, “Sorry baby, I know that hurts.”

You looked up to meet her eyes to tell her it was okay as you shuffled yourself up, sitting upright, “What time-“

“Its just past 5:30 sweetie, don’t try and use your voice.” Wanda interrupted, shushing you quietly but her words caused you to panic and you looked out quickly until your eyes fixed on a clock, the time displayed confirming your fears.

Your curtain call was at 4:50…

“Shit!” You hissed, straining the burning fibre of your throat causing your body to wracked by a horrendous coughing fit. It's loud and wet and gross-sounding and worry seeps into the minds of your on-watching wives. You felt a little better once you’d stopped. But, as you attempted to get up back up from the couch, your legs buckled and you collapse forwards into the lap of Natasha but luckily she had managed to support your sudden weight, keeping you from hitting yourself on the floor.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re on fire.” Nat said worriedly as she pulled you up so that you were sitting in the gap between her and Wanda so that you’d be comfortable when she stood up and offered, “I’ll get you some paracetamol.”

The room were quite for a moment and it was then that you overheard the loud clapping of the audience vibrating through the walls of the theatre, “Im meant to be out there right now.” Your raspy words were barely audible but still they spoke of your disappointment and you felt Wanda’s hands came to rest on your shoulders and she tried to reassure you that everything would turn out okay.

Natasha went over to your dresser, searching the drawers before she found a packet. She had also taken the almost-empty water bottle too and held them both out to you, instructing you to take them as Wanda continued to gently massaged your shoulders.

“Im so sorry sweetie.” She sighed after you had swallowed the pills, “Theres just no way you would’ve been able to go on stage tonight, not with your poor voice sounding like that.”

Wanda nodded, “Exactly, I know its horrible to miss opening night, everyone knows just how much it meant to you. You’ll be able to perform once your voice comes back though then you’ll be able to dazzle the crowds as usual.” She leaned forward and came to kiss the side of your cheek before adding, “Nat is right though, you are very warm, how about we get you back home?”

“I’ll even make you some special honey and lemon tea for that throat of yours.” Nat chipped in too, offering her hand out to you as Wanda stood up behind you.

You sighed, there really wasn’t much else you could do so you took her hand as let them lead you from your dressing-room.

“Can I have raspberry flavoured icepops?”

Nat smirked as Wanda giggled, “Darling you can have whatever you’d like as long as you stop butchering whats left of your voice, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Good, now what happened to not speaking anymore.”

[theseavoices]

Francis O’Connor ^ seen here with a gloriously pert Hugh Dancy in Madame Bovary, spent 10 years perfecting the script for the Emily Brontë film, Emily -before directing it as her first feature.

It has a powerful truth to every scene- the lighting and score are both wild and controlled where needed. The acting is immediate and natural. I found it breathtaking, crying with those overwhelming tears that aren’t necessarily sadness but maybe… awe?

It’s not a classic period drama. “We really tried to keep away from that as much as possible, and try and have it so it has a kind of a youthful quality to it, so the camera moves, but it’s not poppy. We’re trying to create a world that is not documentary, but it feels real. And then sometimes it comes a little more classic in style.”

A woman’s perspective on a woman’s perspective! -always good to watch. Francis managed to weave a fresh take on a bio pic using Emily’s real life, her imagination, her poetry and Wuthering Heights itself, together with Francis’s own experiences. I loved the ‘loosening of the corset strings’ of classic period drama, it made it an unpredictable, enjoyable watch.

Emma Mackey as Emily manages to portray the vulnerability of being a young woman scared of others, startled by people, safe among family, intoxicated with imagination and nature and love - yet there is always that other element of a powerful inner magic that demands adventure, risk taking, wild freedom - she captures the seduction of rebelliousness that women in their 20s find for themselves PERFECTLY.

I soaked up the scenes between Emily and her brother, played by Ffion Whitehead - set up as a partial Heathcliff along with Emily’s love interest, William Weightman played by Oliver Jackson-Cohen. The inspiration she took from his wildness felt very familiar to me, that kind of influence is hard to deny sometimes but their relationship was so sweet too.

The loss of her mother was handled with a delicate touch, still the mask scene captured the horror and power of grief and faith - it was a fresh take, more scary than many horror films, that familiar eery feeling really stayed with me and the way the reactions of everyone in the room were again, really unpredictable.

From death to sex, the scenes were - as usual for female directors - prrrretty hot and obviously less from the male perspective. O’Connor delivered the shiver of anticipation as much as the full hit of ‘banging’ that we’re all hoping for XD - it was still all about Emily - good!

The build up between her and the forbidden advances of the flirty Curate are always good and her naughty, wayward behaviour really brings out his strictness concern…

Yorkshire itself is a big, beautiful expanse of sky and weather, grasses, heather, rain, creaking trees and best of all - the accents are subtle 👌 as are the costumes, hair and make-up.

~

I had to write this down, I know it’s not really necessary or even timely XD but it just really touched me this film

[bittersweetresilience]

sunny's favorite fanfiction

By no means a complete list of what I've read and loved, but these are some of the fics I have found the most memorable, captivating, and influential to me. Mostly oneshots. Mostly dark. Mind the Sunny.

clear blood

Prince_Enby (OMORI, 2,674 words)

Hero took a little too long.

I am pretty sure this fic rewired all of my neurons. I wrote a sequel to it. I wrote multiple sequels to it, though only one published. I think about it all the time. I have absorbed it into my body and my writing. The slow build, the foregone conclusion, the denial, the interspersing of memory, even the summary and author's note Altered™ me. This is my all time favorite fic, and from my all time favorite video game.

在路上

Sweetie_tianyang (Honkai: Star Rail, 221,914 words)

艾利欧的剧本已然走到终点，在死亡如期而至前，刃想最后做一件事情。 (Elio's script has come to a close, but before the arrival of the death he anticipates, Blade wants to do one last thing.)

This is the fic ever. This is the longfic ever. This is the Renjing fic ever. This is the everything to me ever. Every day I think of my favorite Renjing headcanons and plot bunnies and wishes and I realize they sprung from this fic. Holy fucking shit. If I wasn't writing so much I would dedicate all of my time to translating this masterpiece into English. The summary does not do it justice but basically Renjing go on a road trip and slowly fall in love while learning how to live and to be together without hurting each other and to be happy. It's complete at 200,000 words and I normally enjoy shorter fics but I would have read 1,000,000 words of this. I still will. Sweetie_tianyang, please.

Each That We Lose Takes Part of Us

aceofbasedesires (The Untamed, 12,652 words)

“Wake up,” he says to his body, alarm making him itch. There’s no response. He says it louder, and then yells it, trying to drift forward. He can’t move. He’s curled over his own body, staring down at it, without being able to do anything. From inside Burial Mounds, Wei Ying’s mind reaches out to those he’s left behind.

Exquisite sadness indeed. I wrote a sequel to this one as well. I love fics that haunt me. I love fics that make me feel like a ghost. I love unhappy endings. I love this part of the show. I love hurt people hurting people. I love inevitability. I love tragedy.

tarnishing

ruthwrites (Mob Psycho 100, 21,147 words)

Reigen realizes that he never gave the man his name. He knew it, anyway— as well as the slogan for Reigen’s whole business. There must be some sort of reason for it. Maybe they’ve met before. As Reigen walks, he becomes more and more certain— he’s seen the man before.

There is nothing I appreciate more than a well done piece of horror. So insidious, so creeping, so everywhere. Lingering. A work of art and a model for manipulative relationships and gaslighting. The final scene with the rope has a full body grip on me.

The Decline

EzraBlake (John Dies at the End, 5,284 words)

I'd never heard him make a sound like that. It was almost inhuman coming from John – John, who once drank an entire bottle of tabasco sauce and then got it all over the bathroom because he was laughing hysterically while he vomited. John, who fucked up an alternate dimension by aiming an uncontrollably shitting dog like a rocket launcher. John whimpered.

This fic is so intensely, faultlessly in the spirit of the books, which I adore, that it makes me want to blow up my house with grenades.

Cold Water

messageredacted (Homestuck, 6,551 words)

You’re barely finished with your ascension to god tier when they drag you off your quest bed.

Iconic fic forever. I have reread this fic and its remix an unknown number of times over the years. Made for me.

This Time I'm Coming Down

telm_393 (The Good Place, 3,585 words)

Jason makes a lot of decisions he might regret.

I had a really hard time deciding between this and Some Things You Can't Touch. True to the characters in a way that makes me want to bite things and scream.

runner ups

What Real Human Beings Do

nemali (Miraculous Ladybug, 1,029 words)

There are ghosts living inside of you.

I need to consume this fic until it is part of me. I love power & control dearly, but this has replaced it as my favorite Miraculous fic.

Terrycloth Mother

rowdymouse (Mother 2: EarthBound, 4,325 words)

Tony's faced with a hard task: providing Jeff all the love he never got and desperately needs.

This actually spoke to my core. It has a very particular feeling shared by The Arowana. Second person perspective never misses.

like the sheep

zehecatl (Night in the Woods, 1,564 words)

Sometimes, reality mixes in with memories, and so there's Angus, right across the median.

I am pretty sure it's still sad, but it's a tender sort of sad, like Angus loves him so much it's a sad thing osmosed into my entire personality. Dreams. Gore. Bleeding.

special mentions

The Homestuck Epilogues

Andrew Hussie, Cephied_Variable, ctset (Homestuck, 190,398 words)

Ten years after their adventure began, the heroes are enjoying a well-earned retirement on Earth C. But John still has one last choice to make.

Can I count this? I'm counting this. This inspired my love for metafiction and shaped me as a person. Narratives, futility, meaning, characters getting worse. I've never seen a more creative usage of visual elements in fanfiction. I devour experimental media.

[thewriterwhowritesnot]

In The Library pt.3

Warnings: A little action (not the smutty kind), Alucard being protective, the reader being relatable af.

A/N: Whaddup, biatches. I wrote this in two hours. I hope you enjoy it. Excuse the typos and please do not drag me for plot holes. We love a good story but we all are here for the coming sex, be honest!!! This chapter is over 2k words. A short one but it’s necessary for the plot. 

Summary: A college student takes a liking to the campus’s resident librarian but things get spookier and more risque than either one of them anticipated. 

Part 1.  Part 2.

                  Part Three

To say that you were sure of what had killed that girl would’ve been a lie. Nobody knew and none of the police officials would give out any details. Ana was disturbed and you had held her hand when she gave her story to the questioning officer. 

   Nobody saw anything. Nobody had any answers. As the chatter of onlookers and bustling officers echoed around you, you watched as the coroners zipped the body into a black bag. The obvious bitemark was fresh in your mind, and your thoughts were absurd. She must’ve been stabbed with a syringe or a double-pointed weapon. Anything besides being bitten. Bitten by what? What animal bites like that? 

Your fingers began to itch as you started to let the thought settle in your baffled brain. A vampire bites like that. It was stupid and the logical part of you said so but something else deep within your gut told you otherwise. The voice was clear and it had been with you in times when no one else was. It said, very clearly, “you know what you saw.” 

   “Ma’am?” The officer shook you gently, knocking you out of your thoughts. You blinked and met the stern woman’s eyes. “Do you have anything to add?” 

     You shake your head, eager to get up and be out of this parking lot. A group of Ana’s sorority sisters were surrounding you both in seconds, nearly swallowing you both as you shimmy your way past their limbs. They cocooned Ana as you stepped to the side, happy to be released from what felt like an interrogation. 

Scanning the crowd, your eyes found the familiar head of Adrian. He was on the steps of the building exchanging words with a serious-looking man in a suit. On legs you could barely feel, you made your way to him swiftly enough for you to hear the stranger's last words. 

“This is an issue I expect your cooperation on, Sir Tepes.” 

Adrian nodded. “Of course, Chief.” He turned his head, his eyes finding you immediately as the Chief walked away. 

  “Are you in trouble?” You ask. Adrian shakes his head and looks past you at the girls guiding Ana into a car as they prepare to drive off. “Are you not going with your friends?”

“They’re not my friends.” You say quietly. The street begins to clear out and you watch as Adrian methodically scans the street in what you can only describe as a predatory accounting of all moving things. He tilts his head back and you see his nostrils flair ever so slightly. He looks at you a moment before guiding you back into the library. Without a word, he puts all of your things in your bag, precisely the way you had the last time you’d come. You watch as he collects his keys and jacket before sliding your bag over his shoulder and taking your hand. 

“Where are we going?” 

He doesn’t answer as you reach the front of the building. Sliding the door open with his foot, he pokes his head out and looks up and down the now-empty street before allowing you to step into the night. 

“Why are we-”

“Shh.” He says quickly, as you struggle to not trip over your feet as he pulls you to his car. Silently, he sits you in the seat with your bag in your lap before shutting your door. You watch as he moves to cross over to his side. A flash of something bright comes out of nowhere and Adrian’s body is pressed against the hood of the car by a tall woman with skin as white as her robes. The shriek that comes out of your mouth has the woman’s red eyes looking at you which makes you shrink back in horror. 

Adrian takes this time to slide from under her, too fast for you to see, and they disappear. You lean forward in your seat, peering over the dash to see where they’ve gone. The door on the driver’s side opens and you jump as the smell of rotten eggs wrestles a gag from your abdomen. Rough hands snatch you up by your jacket and drag you from your seat. You scream bloody murder, unable to see what has you but able to hear its unnatural growls. 

Vision blurry from tears caused by your gagging, you suck in the open air in search of something other than decay. Whatever has you drags you to the middle of the street and you see Adrian nearly a block away swinging a shiny stick at the woman that attacked him. As your eyes adjust you see that the stick is a very long sword and he blocks her sharp attacks with a speed you struggle to register. You watch as your librarian hits the woman with the butt of his sword handle and she’s propelled towards you. By the time she lands a mere five feet away, Adrian is there, sword gliding past him and into the skull of the creature that held you. 

Unable to look away, you see the sword return to his hand as he impales it into the chest of the woman on the ground. She reaches for him, snarling openly with the sharpest teeth you’ve ever seen. Adrian grabs the woman by her throat and stares into her eyes as she makes a strangled sound. 

“You made a very big mistake tonight.” Something in his voice makes you grind your teeth as your legs shake beneath you. His blood-red eyes find yours and you struggle to comprehend what you’re looking at. The wildness of his features is quickly replaced with the ones you normally see as he pulls the sword from the woman’s crumbling corpse. You look at her as her body crackles and she turns to dust. The same happens to the large body of the beast that snatched you from the car. 

The night returns to its eerie stillness and Adrian slowly puts the sword down on the concrete. Slowly, he raises his hands into the air, eyes never leaving yours as he takes a delicate step toward you. You stay very still, like a bunny waiting for the fox to make a move as he takes another step toward you. 

Your fight or flight response finally kicks in and you scramble to get to your feet. His hand is over your mouth with the other holding you to his chest before you have time to scream. He holds your head back so that you can look him in the eye. 

“Hey. Hey, I’m not going to hurt you.” He coos as your hyperventilation increases. “I know you’re scared. That was very unexpected, wasn’t it? Everything is going to be okay. I need you to take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?” 

You whimper as your shaking intensifies. Adrian takes a steady breath before sighing. “Alright.” He whispers before you feel a pressure on the side of your neck and darkness drags you into the depths of unconsciousness. 

The sound of an alarm clock causes you to bolt upright, a scream waiting in your throat as you search your surroundings. You’re happy to see that you’re in your bed.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up.” 

Following the sound of the voice, you see Adrian sitting against the wall in a deliberately non-threatening position. His eyes are back to their normal state. Or so you thought before he leans forward and his usual light brown irises are replaced with a lively gold that seems to move like pools of water. 

“I know you have questions and I’m prepared to answer them.” 

“You’re a vampire.” You blurt out. He smiles gently, pleased that you’re speaking to him. “Yes.” You stare at him, heart aching for a reason you don’t fully understand. 

“What the actual fuck is going on right now? Am I in a mental institution? Are you a hallucination?” The crack in your voice increases as tears well up in your eyes. Adrian floats to your side and you instinctively shrink away when he reaches for your hand. He retreats, eyes on the floor as he sits beside your bed. 

“If I were a hallucination, I certainly wouldn’t tell you so.” His voice is monotone and you rest your hand beside your thigh on the comforter over your lap, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You were at war with yourself. Clearly, you’ve had a mental breakdown. There was no way you had seen what you deep down knew you saw last night. The way he moved. Both of them. As if they were outside of gravity and time. 

“The full explanation is complicated but the most important thing is I did not kill that girl. I’m here to find out exactly who is killing people.” 

“People?” 

He nods. “She wasn’t the first. Which is why the Chief has agreed to be open with me about the investigation. If I don’t get to the bottom of what’s been going on, I may have to close the school and I don’t want that.” 

Frowning, you open your mouth to ask how he plans on doing that. 

“I own the school.” He spoke swiftly aiming to answer any question you had. “As well as the library and every book in it.” 

“Hm.” You hum as you slump back against the pillows. You think over the events of the previous night. “Who was that last night? The banshee-looking chick with the nightmarish sidekick? The killer?” 

“No. That was an old enemy that tracked me down. She’d brought an animated gargoyle. I was hoping I could get you safely home before she found my exact location but I miscalculated. She was moving faster than I thought.” He sighed and glanced at you. “I truly am sorry. I shouldn’t have been so familiar with you in the first place. It was selfish.” 

The room was silent once again. 

“I understand if you don’t want to speak to me again. Not after what you saw last night. I…I could make you forget if you wish.” He stared straight ahead as he waited for you to speak.

Examining him, as you often did when you were able to, you studied his face. His beauty was normally ethereal. Anybody could see that but there was more now that you saw him without anything to dull it. His chest rose and fell steadily as he breathed. You could see the jump of his pulse on the side of his exposed neck. He swallowed slowly, his eyes now flicking over the indents on the wall in front of him. Even with the otherness in his appearance, he seemed so…human. 

“You’re warm.” You mumble. He looks at you then. “What?”

You clasp your hands together and meet his eyes. “Your skin is warm. Vampires are supposed to be dead and cold.” Slowly, like the night before, he placed his forearms on the bed and rested his chin on the backs of his hands. “My mother was human.” 

    Nodding slowly, you debate on what to do next. Sliding the blanket off your legs, you scoot to the edge of the bed beside him. “So you’re a half-breed. How does that work?” 

He shifts uncomfortably. “You don’t know how conception works?” 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” You whisper. He narrows his eyes. 

“The proper term is dhampir. I eat and drink as you do but need blood ever so often to remain in full health.” 

Sighing, you stare down at him as he peers up at you. “I don’t want to forget, Adrian.” His eyebrows raise slightly as if he’s surprised. “Of course you do. You want to pretend that none of this ever happened. You should want to forget.” 

‘Well, I don’t. I want to help.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

‘I can help you. What leads do you have so far?” 

He closed his eyes. “I’ve done this for centuries, y/n. You nearly died last night and I can’t have your blood on my hands.” 

“Exactly. I almost died and I could be the next victim whether you let me help or not. I’d have a better chance at survival by being aware of what’s going on instead of roaming around like some empty-headed human with everyone else.”

Sliding to your knees in front of him you scoot closer and turn his head so he’ll look at you. “I can’t go back when I know that these things exist. I’ve spent hours reading about all sorts of beings I thought didn’t exist. But to know that they could is amazing. Please. Teach me.” 

    He stands abruptly and glides to the door. Resting his hand on the doorknob, he hesitates. “Come to the library once you’re done with your classes. We’ll discuss things more in-depth then.”

“You’re not going to disappear are you?” You ask, your voice sounding small to you. He turns slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at your face. “I would never leave without saying goodbye.” 

The weight in your chest eases as he winks at you and leaves the room.

You sit on the floor until your second alarm goes off, warning you that you have fifteen minutes to get dressed so you can be at your first class of the day on time. You move through your day on autopilot, your mind constantly trailing back to the previous night's events and your fascination with Adrian. After seeing him vamp out, you should have been running for the hills but you had no desire to. You wanted to know more, and even though you knew the fate of that girl in every vampire movie that acted like she wasn’t dealing with a literal killer, you still ended up outside the library at the end of the day. 

Set on finishing what you started, you lugged your heavy backpack up the steps and walked into the library, leaving the world you knew before in the past. 

@just-for-fanfiction  

@andrastesassets

[northwest-cryptid]

I feel like the horror craze has sort of made a lot of people not understand that the point of watching/engaging with horror is to be afraid. Yea sure big scary monster is cool and stuff but the point is to be scared, which is why I like some horror more than others.

Cheap thrills like jumpscares are fine but short, all the tension and fear I want comes from the build up and like many say, that's just kind of cheap. It's fine but it's sorta like a fun sized candy bar, I'm not really enjoying the candy, I'm enjoying the idea of the candy; once I actually eat the candy it's quick and done and over and then I just kinda wish there was more candy.

I really love the whole concept of like, cosmic horror, suspense, long form drawn out anticipation but where the horror is there throughout and it's not just constant build up to the big scary reveal. The reveal doesn't necessarily need to be what's actually scary.

Let me use food metaphor again, if I'm like "oh hey this new Korean BBQ place opened, wanna go hit that place up and see if it's good?" You can use context clues and previous experience to know sort of what you're in for, and that's good because it means your brain is able to sorta think up what they might have available; you already anticipate what you want to order that's all good. Then when we actually sit down and look at the menu there might be stuff on there that you didn't anticipate, but most of the stuff you did is also there. So now you feel rewarded for putting thought into it, but the real interest you're going through is looking over the things that you didn't already anticipate. Once they actually bring out the food if it's really poor quality and doesn't do anything new, you're left thinking "man I wish we went to that OTHER Korean BBQ place it's way better." If they do too much new then you're left thinking "is this even still Korean BBQ? I mean sure it has some of the menu items but I've never been to a K-BBQ place where they have to golf your food onto your plate through a bunch of flaming rings, really cool they can do that but not really what I'm here for." However, if they do something unique with it while still having really good food you're left feeling like you got exactly what you came for, and that's good!

Notice how throughout the entire experience conceptualized here, there as constant good experience? It wasn't like you're driving home from work and see me on the side of the street holding a bag and I just chuck Korean BBQ through your window while screaming really loudly.

For me, good horror has set up and pay off that lasts the entire duration of the experience. It doesn't matter if it's slow to get to the monster or whatever, because I know going into it that I'm in for horror. I expect everything to sort of make sense and be important later. The first half of Alien is really slow but it's all set up and it's all perfectly fine. I actually really enjoy spending so much time with the crew and the ship in a more laid back peaceful setting because it means when they're running through the ship later on I sort of have some level of familiarity with it.

By extension a great horror game in my opinion is something like Outlast. I've gone on record saying that I never really feel scared of "monsters" when they're just people. Outlast is basically that, they're just insane people. Now the whole "is it really morally okay to depict insane people as horror" discussion aside, I really enjoy Outlast because it plays into one of my biggest fears which is generally that I was taught my whole life that you never take the Flight option when it comes to Fight or Flight. I grew up in a house where I was taught to fight from a very young age, everything from self defense to totally useless combat training I'll (hopefully) never have to actually use; because as many know I was raised in a cult who thought the whole world was out to get us lol. Regardless, I hate the feeling of being chased because it goes against everything I was conditioned for. Outlast gives me no way to fight back, and unlike some other games that do the chase horror really well, Outlast doesn't give me any reprieve from it, at least not noticeably. So I feel this constant sense of being hunted, or at least searched for. It makes me careful to open doors, scan my surroundings, and actually memorize the routes I've taken. It makes me think about where I could jump over something or which route has the most doors I can slam shut on someone. It even made me consider where I could make noise to lure people away from where I wanted to go.

My biggest issue with Outlast 2 is that it had more specific routes to take than Outlast 1. Almost every chase sequence, with few exceptions; was pretty straight forward. It felt like I was following a big neon sign that said "Climb this, run down there; hide under this!" Rather than crawling through an insane asylum entirely out of my element. Though I do enjoy it regardless.

I think Outlast vs Outlast Trials is a great example of what I mean when I say the horror craze has become more focused on "horror is fun and cool" instead of "horror is SCARY"

First off, I'm with my friends, second off; I have things I can throw at these guys, lastly they give me almost free reign of the entire location to jump over things hide where I want, and even sound traps to lure people away. Which becomes a lot less frightening when I know if I get grabbed my friends are right there to kick the fucker off me and help me up. Does this mean it's a bad game? Do I dislike Outlast Trials? Absolutely not! It's a great game, I love it! It's like GTFO but Outlast! However it's VERY hard for me to call it a Horror game. I seldom get to experience real horror anymore, primarily because I both enjoy it and don't enjoy it; so I tend to avoid shit that actually scares me too much; but also because when something does scare me it's usual for anyone in my friend group to distance me from it or ask if I'd rather not engage with it. It's not that I don't appreciate that, but it's hard to explain in that moment that "no this is what horror is supposed to be in my opinion."

[vickyvicarious]

Jonathan's voice is SO strained and shaky and horrified at the start of today! I do love how you can hear the accuracy of "I turn to my diary for repose. The habit of entering accurately must help to soothe me." -Because while certainly not at all times throughout the entry, it really does seem to help calm him down and order his thoughts.

Love the little rebellion in his voice at: "The Count's warning came into my mind, but I took a pleasure in disobeying it." Good for you, Jonathan! I mean. I mean it doesn't turn out good at all but you know what I mean.

Once again his voice getting all airy and almost sing-song as he talks about the ladies in his imagination, it's so sweet - but this time the music is a kind of creepy tinging lullaby like in a horror movie, making that same sweetness feel almost sickly ominous. And the little laughs and sounds of the ladies moving around were SO DAMN CREEPY, I absolutely loved it. Sent shivers up my spine, only increasing as the music got louder/we got further into the scene. I cannot recommend enough listening on headphones to get the full surround-sound, because them giggling and circling around me was SO spooky and SO good.

I love everything to do with the ladies. The way their voices are a little bit extra echoey and almost sound a little layered and unreal.... The sound of her breath. I can't describe the laughs enough. All of it. I could feel the exact same horrible yet pleasurable building anticipation as Jonathan throughout that whole passage, it's so so well done.

Contrast how deep and powerful the music gets when Dracula arrive. It at some moments reminds me of a beating heart, getting faster. And their lighter more tinkling music is almost immediately driven out by the power of his entrance. When they laugh at him it comes back, but only for a moment. The way Dracula says, "I too can love." The whisper of his voice on his promise to share Jonathan later. GOD, it's all so good.

Not to mention the fuckin BABY SOUNDS, absolutely horrifying.

...but despite all the horror, Jonathan does sound so much steadier at the end than at the start. Again, I love so much the way that you can hear the process of writing this out steadying him. It's vitally important not only for gathering evidence to confirm his sanity, but also to in-the-moment calm him down at least a little.

[batsplat]

Brno 2005 anon again, thanks for answering! And yes the end of that race had me screaming, it’s so narratively perfect. The last ten laps are the commentators yapping about Valentino pulling a last corner overtake, saying it would be risky, but remember sachsenring, and if anyone would risk their race to prove that kind of point it would be Valentino.

And there’s sete who is basically (and unfortunately) sitting and waiting for Valentino to make his move. Sete who TOLD THE PRESS that he set up his bike around ‘a specific part of the track’ because he predicted it would be important, aka Valentino would try to overtake there. And the anticipation builds, everyone thinking about vale pulling off the move of a lifetime in the last few moments. And then Valentino overtakes sete in the beginning of the last lap! Catches sete and the audience by surprise!! Sete barely hangs on, and before he has a chance to see if he can catch vale in the last corner, potentially redeeming himself or reversing his fate, he runs out of gas!!!! A man who told the press in detail the many ways he prepared himself and his bike for the race lost due to such a basic detail (obviously his team was involved here but?????).

Genuinely, Brno 2005 would be more believable if it was a Greek myth about a mortal offending a god and reaping the consequences.

(x) I could print out this ask and kiss it

no but seriously, I absolutely adore sachsenring/brno 2005 specifically because it's such a sick and twisted addition to the canon? like it was so Plot Significant as a duo of races two years earlier and is it not kind of CRAZY that you have sachsenring/brno 2003 and 2005 as four races where each time they both arrive at the final lap together. for all four races!! and then the dynamic has completely transformed in these two years and so has the power balance!! what it means to both of them to win and lose!! like this is some sicko shit!! other rivalries could only dream of this kind of narrative juice!!

so you've got the ecstasy of sete's sachsenring 2003 where valentino makes an error versus the horror of sete's sachsenring 2005 when HE makes the error:

genuinely I dare you to find me ANY other race after which valentino so visibly wants to end it all after losing wheel to wheel. look at him they had to talk him off the ledge. eyes are dead. hello darkness my old friend. he usually manages to find SOME kind of vaguely believable smile like look at this what is this. you've got sete going CRAZY on his bike and then valentino just comes across like someone who desperately needs to sit in a darkened room for a few hours contemplating the futility of our existence on this planet. whereas two years later!! he's won!! and the worst bit is that he doesn't even have to go crazy about the whole thing. this is already his eighth win of the season and they've not even gotten to the summer break!! there's something cruel in how understated it is and I am ALWAYS thinking of the suggestion that valentino was planning to overtake sete at the exact spot he had two years earlier... to reverse the mistake... but he didn't even have to!! it's just. so symbolically perfect. cruel as shit

psst psst notice how the loser is hiding his eyes with the sunglasses these men are NOT slick

and then brno!! 2003 is the race valentino was so determined not to lose.... after he'd gone off in the summer break, had his hot girl crisis, gotten his hair dyed and then beat sete by an even tighter margin than he'd just been beaten. after allegedly spending at least some of that summer break WITH SETE on ibiza where he'd gotten his hair dyed!! but now everything is different!! no more ibiza bonding after the horrors of the sachsenring!! what I really really love about brno 2005 is that it's like... it just feels like such an immediate continuation to what we'd just seen at sachsenring, it's almost you could cut it together and have a continuation of a single race. the duel picks up again at once. there's been several weeks between it but sete is just plugged right into the same situation. it's a time loop!! it's inescapable!! do you hear valentino's voice in your ear telling you how you will fail again? you will make a mistake here too. something will happen. you cannot win this

but the thing about sete's tragedy is that it is fundamentally at least partially self-inflicted, as all the best tragedies are. it's his mistake at sachsenring! he goes off on a summer race and then come backs and apparently spends far too much time blabbing at journalists about the minutiae of his approach for the coming race. and then. and then!! and then. valentino gets past again. and sete does not even make it to the end of the race. because his team did not fuel the bike correctly. his final downfall. was secured. through fuel levels

"another negative day" kinda tells you everything you need to know, huh

is there anything as quietly brutal as the phrase 'offered race winner rossi'. OFFERED. sete deserved to be on the podium :)) genuinely I could not live my life like this

literally

sete had the audacity to step up to become the challenger and then he gets dragged through the most straight up absurd horrors this sport has ever seen as punishment

[lenentinecards]

The Industrial Drone of UrbanSpook

Author: Florian Dama Dama

DISCLAIMER: This was written before we knew the creator was a creep and a right wing asshole. Do not take any of this as endorsement of him as a person.

Extremely impromptu, off-the-cuff filler... Thing while waiting for Rutena to finish the Prince Rama write up (It's GETTING TO IT we promise)

This is a review of the soundtrack, or what's available of it at the time of writing, of the webseries UrbanSpook, I will not be covering the writing, themes, or imagery of the series, only my impressions of the music on its own, though I will disclose that my perception of the music might be colored by having watched the series.

If you decide to look at the series because of this review of the music be warned that there is drawn extreme gore, body horror, child death, along with heavily implied CSA (but not shown on screen), and likely some other common triggers I've missed within the series. The music is free of that however.

UrbanSpook is an analog horror series I personally consider schlocky and mostly shock value, though I have a strong fondness for it for both the music and the visual art, though the visual component is not relevant here. The menacing industrial drones build mood beautifully, if there is one thing to love the series for it's this. The creator, Urban Slug, has a SoundCloud, and his music can be found here. I will be using the titles used on there rather than the video titles for sake of clarity.

b e n e a t h: More of a standard menacing drone track, reminiscent of a siren perhaps, it's solid but not exceptional compared to its bretheren, it's hard to say much about it. Suits being paired with the introductory video for that though.

b r e a t h: This one LURKS, more atmospheric, it looms, it stares at you but it dodges out of your view when you try to look at it, you only ever see it in fragments. The place you're in would almost be serene if not for what is watching, what you hear growl and breath just out of sight

w a l l s: Very much evokes the feeling of something in the walls or perhaps the vents, another track thst makes you feel WATCHED. There is no chance of actually sighting what sees you until it has you here though. All you can do is listen and anticipate its attack.

p i p e s: This one is more akin to a witnessed aftermath than an impending attack, this track drips with blood, it shows you meat barely recognizable as having been human. It ends like a revelation you're on the trail of what hunted and watched you in the previous two tracks.

p I g s: Another bloody aftermath. More aggressive than drone-like, more noisy, more harsh than its brothers. You found the aftermath sooner after the attack than the one of previous track, everything is fresh, animals scream, something like a human screams (a companion? Who have you been following this with?), the animals are frenzied, you are frenzied, the scent of blood is fresh and maddening, you have learned something horrible. Maybe you've always known.

w h a l e: We return to drones, this one almost funerary, reminiscent of the hurdy-gurdy. It is both a funeral and a hunt. It smells like cloying lilies and incense smoke here. Someone is here who shouldn't be. Are we hunting them? Do they hunt us? There is clarity, you know something, but it escapes you before you can parse it.

Parting thoughts: The music certainly enhances the story and visuals of videos they were made to be paired with, but I feel like the music almost has its own parallel story to tell, not dissimilar, but perhaps with a more animalistic predator. It's very evocative, easily carrying me to a place, an event. It's solid horror music overall and I'm excited to see how the music evolves as the series continues. If the music continues to be solid as the series continues maybe I'll write another post on it at a later date.