#love some good horror

[afklancelot]

man i know it’s still early in The Magnus Protocol to know how the transcript/cases part of each episode works, but when fans (and myself) get a good grasp on how the Horrors work as time goes on and more worldbuilding stuff is revealed, i hope i’ll get to see more case file fics a la statement fics in tma.

cuz yeah while the statement parts of tma were what i liked most from the podcast, it did kinda feel a little same-y in its format/presentation. in s5, the statements were much more creative in terms of presentation- see Revolutions, Strung Out, and Wonderland, for example- but i feel with tmagp, the writers have a lot more freedom in HOW they present the Horrors of the week. cuz now when the victim is experiencing/relaying their experiences with the Horrors, it can be shown through emails, forum posts, video calls between a therapist and patient, a diary, hell, even a blog post! there’s a lotta good things that could come out of this freedom in terms of horror stories, and im all ere for it.

[lesbianwithchainsaws]

Edit: I see a ton of answers saying "torture porn" and some asking why I didn't add it. Torture porn isn't a subgenre of horror. Every single horror film that yall describe as torture porn falls into an actual subgenre (usually slasher/splatter or body horror, though there are exceptions). Torture porn was a term made to describe the rise in realistic brutality in horror in the early 2000s. If you don't like the brutality or gore in horror, that's fine. But that's not a subgenre. Every single one of these could be incredibly gorey and brutal, as well as can be the opposite of that. Torture porn is not a subgenre in itself

[knifearo]

this year my challenge for everyone is to unlearn the association between love and morality. love is not something that is inherently morally good, and the absence of love is not something that is inherently bad. sex without love isn't morally bankrupt, it's just an action. people without love aren't less kind or less good, they're just people. when we can get past this false (and often unnoticed) dichotomy of good love/evil lovelessness then i think we are going to be able to take leaps and bounds in sex positivity, aro advocacy, certain discussions of mental health...

[porrigens]

do you look like the devil, Brian?

[brainman1987]

So I could get @chaos-bringer-13 ‘s post about Danny being just some guy compared to his family and tbh. I like jazz’s design the best hehehehe

I feel like I went too colorful for Tucker and Sam, which sucks because they’re also super cool!! Anyways, Danny Sam and Tucker are the balances of life&death, new&old technology, and man made&natural. Jazz is an apprentice of Nocturn, Dante is a apprentice of Clockwork, and Dani/ellie is apprentice of the Space ancient (but she currently has a Travel core) At first I thought that Danny was just. Some sort of protection or hero core, but honestly him being life and death is a really fun idea!! Of course you do not have to use or think of these designs when creating your designs or thinking of the concept in general :) This is just my take of the idea and I’d really like to see or read everyone’s interpretations

[dapper-lil-arts]

Darlings. is it gay when the phantom you created as a manifestation of your dreadfull loneliness takes the form of one of your closest friends.

Fanart of this pretty good horror rarijack fanfic, "The haunting of carroussel boutique" personaly i am surprised the writer didnt take the chance to point out how fucking funny this is. Me n kim started laughing about it during stream and i just had to draw this

[thermodynamic-comedian]

actually i love it when the characters are all lying. i love it when they all have secrets and none of them trust each other. i love being given clues that solve puzzles i haven't even been presented with yet. i also love it when i get chills watching a scene without even knowing what it means, and when i do know what it means, i get even more chills. i love theorizing and thinking and solving and coming up with possibilities of where a story might be going. i love it and i will do it for free, for fun, for no real reason.

this is a mystery appreciation post!! if you appreciate mysteries and secrets and stories that slowly unravel before you, please interact!!!

[spearxwind]

🔻 Show your weapons 🔻

Some more experimental stuff!! I'm really enjoying the polygon tool, so I', trying to get better at it >:3c

[lynxgriffin]

I know you have shown Catti meeting her eldritch counterpart already, but a small part of me really wants to see Jockington’s reaction, if only because I think his denseness would make for some really funny interactions.

He absolutely would not pick up on the dangers and the horrors involved here. Not when there's SPORTS to be had!

Meanwhile, life's gotta be rough for Catti when her own tail gets easily distracted by SPORTS

[crazymecjc]

✨daniil dankovsky’s fun steppe vacation✨

[starsandwriting]

Jesus christ the horror of being that dog. You gain human sentience and intelligence for just long enough to be able to understand the world around you, just long enough to truly experience the horror of what's happening to you, before you're reverted back to being a dog. Granted understanding once more before it's taken away again, and so on

[recalled11]

Directionless Pt. 3

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt.3/ Pt. 4

[ghouljams]

currently Terminally In Love with your fae!Simon au, and it has resulted in some ✨Thoughts✨

so, the bond that’s between Simon and reader — we’ve seen how it functions as a kind of honing beacon that allows Simon to know if reader is being fucked with by any other fae who dare to touch what he’s laid claim to… but from what I could discern the mark reacted so violently and allowed him to come to reader’s rescue solely because it was reacting to foreign fae magic… does it work the same for physical, nonmagical harm?

(and further, asking for the girlies…. what would Simon feel through the bond if the reader were to die 😚)

So glad you asked because it means I get to do some horror stuff. The short answer is Ghost's mark doesn't react the same way to human danger, it just pings Ghost to let him know there's trouble. The long answer is, the mark is stupid and will lash out at anything that is scaring MC, which sometimes includes Simon. Most of the time it just functions as an alarm system, but there's an adjustment period when Simon sort of has to train it on who it's ok to bite.

You've been followed since you got off the train. He's not even being stealthy about it. You make a turn, he turns, you stop, he stops, always a few steps behind you. No one else seems to notice or care. You look over your shoulder and see the same crewneck, the same beady eyes. His lips curve red into a smile when he knows you spot him. Your chest is tight, you try not to look at him. You thought you were past this, always looking over your shoulder isn't a good look. Then again neither is being dead. Better to be paranoid and alive.

It's getting dark. You don't live that far from the station, at least you didn't think you did. Maybe it's fear making the street feel longer, emptier. You pick up the pace, hearing the sentiment echoed behind you. The thud of footsteps getting progressively louder and closer, until you're forced to sprint. The effort is wasted immediately as you're grabbed and dragged into the nearest alley. Your chest squeezes with fear, your heart pounding in your ears as you're thrown against the brick wall. The buzz under your skin expands and contracts with your breaths, trying to do anything but calm you down. You think it might actually be driving your anxiety higher, towards a full blown panic, as the man grips your arms tight and grins down at you. 

"Don't you know it's dangerous for little girls to wander alone at night?" He asks, he's close enough you can smell the alcohol on his breath. Your skin hurts where he touches you, bubbling with something you can't put a name to. The buzzing doesn't fit right, it slams against your ribs as you draw in shuddering breaths, there’s nothing for it to latch onto. You glance towards the mouth of the alley, the street was so empty, who would see you? This isn't right, he told you you'd be safe-

Something wet hits your face. The buzzing under your skin is reaching a fever, shaking you to your bones. You look up at the man, at the thick red and black mud falling from between his lips. He gives a wet cough. Your eyes drag to the black talons protruding from his chest, a hole punched through his ribs as if it were paper. The ribs themselves are warped outward and folded back away from the intrusion, more like wire than bone. You can't tear your eyes away from the sight, from the slick clawed hand dragging its way backwards through the viscera as you feel your buzzing start to move.

The silhouette that the collapse of your aggressor reveals is abyssal. Absorbing the shadows of the rest of the alley in a way you've never seen before. The air around it swirls with them. It's holding the man's heart in one clawed hand, tipping it's head back to swallow the organ whole. You are pretty sure you're having a panic attack. The abyss moves towards you like a ghost, and the buzz under your skin takes hold and forces you to MOVE.

The nose your fist collides with is startlingly human.

"You little bitch," Ghost snarls, making a grab for you as you sprint from the alley. Your feet slide against the sidewalk as you round the corner. The buzz under your skin rears back and strikes as his claws just miss you. "Not me you stupid-" he swears, you think he swears, you don't understand it but the buzz cowers. 

You don't stop. Not even when you pass the door to your flat. You run because you can hear him running after you, can hear the scratch of his claws on brick and concrete as he tries to grab you. The gouges that he leaves in everything he touches, you don’t need to imagine what he could do to you, you saw it. You catch a glimpse of him as you turn a corner, his teeth are bared, his movements wild and animalistic. 

His claws wrap around your throat, and you’re slammed into a wall for the second time tonight. He’s huge when he presses against your back, his chest expanding around his labored breathing in tandem with yours. You try to turn your head to look at him and he yanks your head back to stare at the stars. You both breathe, the night filled with the sound of your desperation. You swing your arm behind you to try and hit him, anything to make yourself more difficult prey. He catches your wrist easily and twists it behind your back, growling in your ear as he leans his weight on you.

“Not Me,” He tells you, it thrums through you like a universal truth, the buzz under your skin going warm and shivery, “You don't run from me. Not unless I tell you.” You nod, desperate to do something to ease your situation. “Good girl.”

His hand slides through your hair, fingers pressing to your forehead, and it all goes black.

You jolt awake shaking like a leaf. You press a hand to your mouth, choking down a sob. You’re terrified, it’s too dark in here, your skin feels like it’s been scrubbed raw, you feel like you’ve run a marathon. It must have been a nightmare, it must have been.

Simon turns on the light by the bed, woken up by your movements. “What’s wrong?” He asks, still half asleep. You shake your head, trying to get the shaking to stop. You feel like your body is trying to rip itself apart. Simon reaches a hand towards you and you jerk away, falling in a heap off the edge of the bed. You scurry away from him, you need distance, you need to get away from him. From the nightmare. Your back hits the wall as Simon stands. 

“What did I say?” His eyes tear holes through you, you press against the wall trying to make yourself small as he stalks towards you, “Not. Me.”

[lonelyzarquon]

Peter Cushing as Herbert Flay in Madhouse (1974)

[jacenbren]

Deeply fucking unsettling things about the Honored One himself, Satoru Gojo

Thanks to his ability to fuck with gravity, you put him in a blank, empty room with identical walls, floor, and ceiling with no doors or windows, he'll quickly lose track of which way is up. Realistically this situation would probably never happen, but the concept freaks him out ever since Geto made a joke about it once.

Gojo's body maintains a perfect thermodynamic equilibrium, making his skin creepily cool to the touch. He can go out in a blizzard with shorts on, and between that and Infinity, he'd be perfectly fine. It makes for a cool party trick, because he can stick his hand in a candle flame or put cigarettes out on his arms with no ill effects.

He's unsettlingly clean at all times, because dirt can't touch him. Gojo hasn't needed to use stain remover on his uniform in years.

He quite literally has six eyes. He keeps four of them shut and all of them hidden most of the time, though, because a) looking into all six at once would liquefy the brain of your average human, and b) his Six Eyes are constantly feeding unfathomable amounts of information into his brain every second. Even with his tolerance to his powers and mastery of the reverse curse technique, there's only so much stimuli a human brain can process without completely shutting down, and Gojo doesn't want to find out what that'll do to him--in a nutshell, just because he can see things that mankind can't even hope to comprehend doesn't mean he wants to.

He can perceive the entire electromagnetic spectrum, meaning he can see shrimp colors. Everyone else desperately wants him to describe the shrimp colors. Gojo continues to smugly refuse.

Because of his reverse curse technique constantly refreshing and regenerating his body, he just. doesn't really need to eat anymore. or drink. or even breathe. His body is basically frozen at peak physical condition, and it's very likely that he is functionally immortal.

Sometimes, Gojo forgets what pain feels like, because nothing can touch him. Pain feels almost like pleasure to him, because nothing can hurt him. Nothing can even touch him, and Gojo has secretly developed a perverted interest in seeing how badly he can mutilate himself before he's forced to reengage his technique and heal.

Gojo can bend and contort himself in ways that aren't humanly possible, run faster and farther and lift heavier objects than anyone alive, because his body can repair itself almost as fast as it's damaged, depending on how severe the injury. Basically, he has permanent hysterical strength, letting him push his body past its limits to perform feats that would kill a normal human with no ill effects.

Gojo doesn't sleep. He literally can't unless he releases his technique, because his body is constantly being refreshed and doesn't need to shut down. Oh well, it's for the better. He's most vulnerable while he's sleeping anyway, and it opens up his schedule by a lot.

His teeth grow now, almost like a rodent's. He has to file them down to be able to open and close his mouth properly, along with much more frequent trimming of his hair and nails.

His skin is oddly smooth, and unnaturally pristine. Gojo hasn't recieved a single scar since Toji sliced him open, and all the ones he'd recieved before are healed flawlessly at this point. His hands are so soft they make it look like he hasn't fought a day in his life, because calluses aren't able to form anymore.

Gojo's been around the world countless times now. He can go wherever he wants with a thought; the only cost is his sanity. Warping himself across the Pacific for lunch in San Francisco is fun, but he can only do it a few times a week if he doesn't want to have another... ah, episode.

These episodes involve blackouts, gaps in his memory where his powers manage to slip their leashes from overuse and literally short-circuit his brain. He's only had a few so far, and every time, he wakes up in the infirmary completely unscathed, with blood all over his clothes and an awful fucking migraine. Nobody knows what happens or where he goes, and all Shoko's been able to tell him is that when it happens, he seems to go into a giddy fugue before blasting his way out of the compound and vanishing for anywhere from days to weeks. Gojo's absolutely terrified of these episodes, because he's wholly aware that if he lost it for real, nobody would be able to stop him.

He looks human enough, but if you look closer, he quickly starts to set off the uncanny valley effect. It's like a wolf in sheep's clothing--because you know how dangerous he is, even though he appears relatively harmless at first. Everyone who meets him has the same fear response clawing at the back of their mind as their hindbrain screams at them to fucking run, because Gojo is an apex predator in the body of a prey animal. His very presence awakens primal fear that's been entrenched in every human since the dawn of time--the fear of things that go bump in the night, of cosmic horrors beyond what mankind can even hope to comprehend.

His eyes glow all the time now, and the energy crackling in the air around him feels like the static that comes before a lightning strike. Satoru Gojo is insistent that he's still human even though he's the strongest, but... is he, really?

[bluecoffeebeanz]

THEY EVEN TOOK HIS QUEEN