#gentle horror
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Strange roadside buildings where you shouldn’t ever go.
#artists on tumblr#art#illustration#surreal#gothic americana#neon#signage#gentle horror#long post#you saw into a secret place#jennabarton
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I’m your host, and it is the middle of the night. But don’t worry. You’re not alone.
Thin Places Radio aesthetic
#Thin Places Radio#tpr#podcast#my aesthetics#podcast aesthetic#liminal space#gentle horror#I know there aren't a lot of episodes so far#I might make another one when we're further along in the series#I'm hoping this at least captures the feel of the podcast#anyway you should all listen to Thin Places Radio podcast#unreality#long post
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ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʟʏ ᴇᴍᴘᴛʏ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ
ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ɴᴏ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ
#artists on tumblr#fawn#vapor wave#retro#pop surrealism#night#illustration#vector art#digital painting#gothic#cryptids#surreal art#contemporary art#liminal tumblr#dark surreal#gentle horror#eye strain#art#drawing
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Something was here...
Where did it go..?
Better leave now before it comes back.
Run. Faster.
#unreality#liminal aesthetic#liminality#weirdcore#dereality#oddcore#strangecore#ghosts#cryptid#cryptids#cryptidcore#liminal spaces#liminal photography#liminal space#liminal reality#horror#gentle horror
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They called it death by drowning, but it felt like I was burning alive. The ice-cold salt water felt like hot acid seeping into my lungs. As I got to grips with what was happening, I made the mistake of opening my eyes, only to see how far I was from the surface. I remember the feeling of simultaneous desperate energy, and absolute exhaustion. I knew Lila and Tamas were waiting for me on the shore. Waiting for what though? I knew they were probably looking for help but how was I expected to get out of this. They say you're meant to relax in moments like these, try not to panic, it will make it worse, try to float. At this moment however I had absolutely no idea whether I was fighting against it or just simply lying there, floating.
Lila, Tamas and I had spent our whole lives together, they were my closest friends and favourite people, but at this moment, for me, they ceased to exist. The memories faded, the image of their faces in my mind only blurred and became more warped. As I began to lose every sense I had become accustomed to, the only thing I could feel was dread.
"Yeesh, were you a writer?"
"W-what?" Morwyth blinked, snapping out of it
"Like a writer, motivational speaker, debate team? C'mon you had to be something like that."
"I eh, no not really. I liked reading, and would write some things down occasionally, but I was always too anxious and awkward to be good with words, things like that don't matter anymore though I guess."
Fabian rolled his eyes "Damn and here I was like "Oh yeah I was hit by a freight truck"
Everyone went quiet then.
"Oh c'mon! It was a joke!? I mean yikes I didn't expect the afterlife to stick me with such a tough crowd."
Amber, who was sitting off from the group, cuddled up with Max, shifted uncomfortably "not funny Fabi" She got up and stalked off. Max glared at Fabian before rushing after her.
"What did I do?" Fabian scoffed before following them.
"Did I do that?" Morwyth asked hesitantly
"No, you know what Fabian's like." Odette came over to sit beside her.
"Well you can't blame him, I guess we all have our own coping strat-" She laughed in spite of herself
"What?"
"I'm Sorry." Morwyth attempted through giggling "It's just...even after death we have coping strategies! How pathetic is the human race!"
They both fell in a heap of laughter, they were alone together now since everybody else had stormed off. They didn't get many moments like these. Odette sighed to try and get a handle on her laughter, she looked over at Morwyth, and gently laced her fingers with hers. As she leant her head on her shoulder, Morwyth stopped laughing as well.
It was then that Fabian came back.
"Honestly some people are so easily offended, I don't know what's up with those two, where's Trillian anyway? He might be all posh, privileged and pretentious, but at least he's gotta bit of humour"
"I don't know I saw him… Earlier." Odette hesitated, we don't really have the concept of time in this place so using words like Earlier feels almost nostalgic. Morwyth noticed the look on her face and squeezed her hand tighter.
We had all been dead for a month now. We wound up together in this glitch paradox world that was not Heaven nor Hell nor Nothingness because we had all been born, and had all died on the same day as each other. We didn't know whether this was what others' version of the afterlife was like, and there seemed no fathomable reason for it. It didn't seem to follow the rules of science nor spirituality. But no matter what the reason, we're stuck with each other.
They all hate me, I know they do. Not as much as they hate Fabian though so that's something.
It only took a few weeks for Max and Amber, and Odette and Morwyth to fall hopelessly over the top in love with each other respectively, which leaves Fabian and I the only remaining singletons. They've all joked about us getting together, to complete the trifecta, they know that's not going to happen though, because even though we bond over being unanimously hated, Fabian and I can't stand each other either.
There's six of us, we each died in different ways, in different places.
Morwyth Finch, Wales, quiet and bookish, less shy than she was when she was alive however, died by drowning
Odette Bramblestone, France, sunny and gentle, real life cartoon Princess with blue hair, went missing and died in a way even she can't remember.
Amber Swift, America, edgy and spoiled, life of the party, died of an overdose
Max Quinn, England, handsome and chill, underneath that persona he's a real loser though, motorbike accident.
Fabian Dumas, Greece, and he is a real dumas, except put a b and an extra s in there, don't even get me started, hit by a freight truck. Idiot was drunk and stumbled across the road without looking.
I spend my days observing them, trying to figure out our different perspectives. It's all there is to do, they don't notice me anyway.
Case in point?
"I'm right here."
Odette and Morwyth jump
"Trillian! I thought we were alone, No?" Odette yelps
"Nope" I grumble
#im new here#wtf is this place#any help is greatly appreciated djsjshshs#gentle horror#fiction#my writing#short story#spilled ink#original character
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“Adam finally sat down on one of the pews. Laying his cheek against the smooth back of it, he looked at Ronan. Strangely enough, Ronan belonged here, too, just as he had at the Barns.
This noisy, lush religion had created him just as much as his father's world of dreams; it seemed impossible for all of Ronan to exist in one person. Adam was beginning to realize that he hadn't known Ronan at all. Or rather, he had known part of him and assumed it was all of him. The scent of Cabeswater, all trees after rain, drifted past Adam, and he realized that while he'd been looking at Ronan, Ronan had been looking at him.”
#pynch#trc#the raven cycle#adam parrish#ronan lynch#adam x ronan#I am RIGHT back where it all started#you cannot know the shock and thrill of reading ‘adam was ronan’s second secret’ in 2013#and then witnessing this beautiful horror of a boy#be so gentle with his love#galaxy draws
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Very messy and rough sketch of Horror but eh
#undertale#undertale aus#undertale artist#utmv#undertale au art#utmv fanart#horrortale sans#horror sans#yn x canon#He may be a gentle giant but he's also very malicious
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I missed my wholesome buff boy. For all you desperate souls out there 💚
#i just can't get happy family jason out of my head. he has such a gentle dog energy to him :(#jason voorhees#jason vorhees art#jason voorhes x reader#jason voorhees fanart#friday the 13th franchise#friday the 13th#slasher fanart#slashers#80s horror#90s horror#art#wholesome
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Julia Armfield, from Salt Slow; “Cassandra After”
[Text ID: “she was a gentle sort of horror;”]
#julia armfield#gentleness#horror#girlhood#womanhood#excerpts#writings#literature#prose#fragments#selections#words#quotes#typography#poetry collection
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Up above, the haunted glow of the Anti-Tourism Bureau.
#artists on tumblr#illustration#halloween#surreal#gothic americana#liminal#neon#horse#gentle horror#something awful happened there#jennabarton
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Another piece for my show in April ❄️ made with new gouache brushes on Photoshop, which I actually really love!
#artists on tumblr#illustration#contemporary art#art#liminal tumblr#drawing#bald eagle#digital painting#gentle horror#urban horror#gothic art#winter scene#landscape#gouache painting
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hope everyone's third semester time is going okay :D
#persona 5#p5#was playing Gentle Madman on the boombox as I cleaned. suddenly remembered this#unsettling psychological horror approaches
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Can we talk about how we definitely don’t give the Magnus Chase books enough credit? Like these books are such a beautiful depiction of coming to terms with grief and finding purpose in new relationships. Magnus’ struggle to accept his mother’s death and his guilt over it culminating in a beautiful moment where he feels her love and presence with and for him in his battle with Surt. The horrific despair he feels whenever someone around him is hurt, literally moving him to tears every time, even when it’s Gunilla, someone who has been actively hunting him. The line about how they are all empty cups, but that they can share each other’s burdens instead of filling themselves with pain. Just the beautiful bonds these characters who have each been isolated in their own way have formed with each other. How each of these characters have every right to be bitter and spiteful as a result of the tragedy in their lives, but choose love and each other at every turn.
#I could go on#I am just so emotional over these characters#and how strong and caring all of them are#like especially Magnus I feel has such a gentle side to him in spite of the rage that has been#instilled in him as a result of the tragedies he’s suffered#which mirrors so perfectly the harshness and horrors of war that constantly surrounds them#something about how the big battle is not about our hero killing his enemies#but turning towards summer when winter seems so deep and inescapable#just#ugh#magnus needs his own post#magnus chase#the sword of summer#riordanverse#magnus chase and the gods of asgard#mcga
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was trying to make an amalgamate inv or something but i give up
inv undertale
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not to be a slut but what if price tapped witch?
:)
"Why don't we just wipe her and try again?" Gaz asks, already on his feet and moving towards you with an efficiency you haven't seen in years. You try not to be intimidated by the threat. Price wouldn't let anything happen to you, at least you don’t think he would. You trust him, and he must trust Gaz or he wouldn't have brought him. So you’re doing your best to trust Gaz as well.
"Not a good-" Price's words are cut short by Gaz's fingers pressing against your forehead with a soft tap before you can even think to swat his hand away. Price shoots to his feet almost as quickly as you feel the pierce of wild magic sliding through your brain. A jagged knife pushing home between the hemispheres of your brain, snapping synapses and tearing tissue. Your eyes go wide as agony sweeps over you.
"Price?" You don't know what you mean to say after that, or even what your intentions with it were in the first place. The sharp block of fae magic sits menacingly between your thoughts, pushing out everything else with increasingly painful precision. When you look at Price for help you taste blood, feel tears spill down your cheeks. Price's face contorts into something akin to panic as he reaches for you.
The two fae are snapped from your home, your wards identifying and expelling the threats as you stumble to your feet. You can't make your eyes focus on anything but the bright crimson blood that coats your fingertips as you draw them away from your lips. Your nose is bleeding.
Price pounds on the door, yelling for you. You do your best to ignore it and drag yourself to your kitchen, hands shaking and breaths shallow as you open your apothecary cabinet. You grab- no you- you can't remember what you're supposed to grab in this situation. The pain is starting to make it hard to think, and your vision won't clear enough to read the scrawled labels on the bottles in front of you.
"Let me in Sweetheart," Price calls through your door, "please let me in," his voice sounds as desperate as the bang of his fist against the wood, "I can fix this, please."
You can fix this too. You're sure you know how to fix this. You just cant- you can't recall it. You grip your head with a whine, dig your fingers against your hairline as pain shoots against the back of your eye. You need a proxy. You need something to take this pain so you can think about how to get the twisting knife out of your skull.
You try to open the large drawer in the middle of the cabinet and find it stuck. You jiggle the handle to try and coax it open, tugging blindly at the drawer. There’s poppets in there, raw materials, you’re sure- you’re sure if- fuck you’re not-
You press your shaking hands to your eyes, clawing at your head to try and release some of the pressure. It feels like your skull is about to explode. You try not to scream in pained frustration. Everything is too much. Too bright and searing. You’re losing parts of your brain as quickly as you can remember them. You feel like a cup being poured out, the profound loss of yourself a threatening undercurrent to the pain.
You need this -whatever it is- out of you. You try to remember your spells, your magic, the things your mother and grandmother have drilled into you since you were small. You don’t have time to think (couldn’t hope to anyway) you can only rely on the instinct that’s been nurtured in you.
You are raw unfiltered magic, built on generations of magical blood. It courses through your veins like a guiding compass and forces you forward, self preservation and adrenaline carrying you when your feet don't want to. The pounding. The pounding on the door. It's like a never ending drum beat, tattooing itself over your eardrums. There's someone very insistent at your door. A proxy, your ancestors whisper to you.
You rip the door open, grab the face of the man banging on it, and press. Press all the pain out of your body and into him, push the knife out of your skull and drive it as deep as you can into him until it doesn't hurt anymore, until you don't feel anything anymore. And he lets you. Whoever he is, he lets you pour the invading magic into him, his hand tight around your wrist as you do, holding you steady. He catches you around your waist when the adrenaline leaves you in a rush, and your legs can't support you anymore, holds you tight to his chest and murmurs soft kindnesses to you. You're not sure why when you've surely given him every painful reason to spit and curse at you.
"It's alright Sugar, it's- Christ what took you so long, I thought-" He presses his lips to your forehead, wiping away the last of whatever invading force was putting you through hell.
“Price I-” There’s another person here, you flinch away from his voice.
“Save it, you didn’t know.” Price, that’s a familiar name, cuts him off. Price crouches, adjusts his hold on you and slips an arm under your knees to lift you. “Witches are a rare breed,” He grunts, bouncing you a little in his hold to coax you to hang on, “and even if we didn’t mix like oil and water this one’s warded to hell and back.”
“Generational,” You mumble, trying to deepen your breathing, eyes squeezed shut against the sunlight.
“You comin’ back to me already, Sweetheart?” Price murmurs, there’s something rumbly and comforting in his chest. It makes you feel safe and held. You hum, not sure what he’s talking about. He smells good, cool like the winter breeze, after the horrible burning it’s a nice change. Price is mumbling something to himself, the rumbling starting to peter off as he does. That’s alright, it’s done its job leading you towards sleep. You’re jostled back to wakefulness with a few purposeful bounces. “You want me to put you to bed?” He asks softly, you think that’s a funny question considering he’s already trying to put you to sleep.
“Please.”
“Atta girl,” You feel when he passes through the threshold into your home. The wards raised and poised to attack the magic that had threatened their owner. You wish they wouldn’t bother you when you’re so worn out. That seems to work well enough for them to settle, humming in annoyance as Price carries you through the little archway separating the bedrooms from the main room of the house.
You’re set on a soft surface, your bed you think, and Price’s hands leave you to let you cuddle into your pillows. You open your eyes as he pulls the curtains over your window. The dim light makes you feel soft and selfish, reaching a hand toward him as he turns. He catches your fingers with his own, crouching to meet your eyes. He kisses the tips of your fingers, your knuckles, he looks… regretful. His brows are drawn and his smile doesn’t reach the soft look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” You wonder how many people have heard him say that, something soft and warm settles between your ribs. You pull at his grip, push your cheek against his rough palm. He lets out a pained noise and draws back, “I can’t, Gaz and I-”
“S’okay,” You sigh and close your eyes again, pulling a pillow under your aching head, you’re starting to feel a little more yourself, “I’ll be here.”
“I know,” His fingers brush your hair from your face, “I’ll be back.”
You smile when his fingers don’t leave, tracing your features lightly, reverently, “I know.”
#1fae1#oc: Witch#fae!Price#fae!Gaz#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#john price x oc#x oc#cod x oc#captain price#captain price x reader#captain price x oc#oh sorry did we forget that this is a horror#tw memory loss#tw head trauma#Gaz you are unfamiliar magic and wild magic already doesn't mix well with human magic#Price and Witch's magic has sort of reached an understanding#they're gentle with each other
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Ghost accidentally elbowing you in the face during sexy time
The mood obviously broken, but goddamn the profuse apologies and general tenderness that ensue might just be worth it
When he gingerly presses the ice pack to your nose, double, triple, quadruple checking you’re okay 🥺
That’s it, send tweet.
Definitely Not based on real life experiences tonight
#lowkey bummed I didn’t get my back blown out but hey#what can ya do#the sweetness afterwards really did make it almsot worth it though#and I can just SO CLEARLY SEE the concern and horror in ghost’s eyes as he realizes what’s happening#and then those big ass hands being so gentle on your tender skin#ugh it’s fine I’m fine I’m so normal about this man#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader
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