#subtle horror

[tofusquisha]

an indecisive vibe!

[humanmaybe]

Overgrown

Boo!!

Fun fact I jumpscared myself several times while drawing. Bc I would zoom in. And get scared

[aditigoswami28ag]

it may well be that you are not him.

I have known it, in quieter hours.

and yet—

you remain,

and that has proven kinder

than truth ever was.

[deadhands69]

3:02am

Tomura Shigaraki drabble

It’s so foggy you almost don’t see him.

A few feet into the margin, a hitchhiker stands on the side of the road with his thumb held high.

Not just any hitchhiker.

He's wearing a nice suit. A crisp black jacket with pants to match. You run your eyes from the white collared shirt down to his bare feet.

Interesting outfit choice, you think to yourself as you slow to a stop. There's no way you can leave a man without shoes on the side of the road. Especially not in the middle of the night.

You unlock the passenger side as the man approaches. The crisp autumn air hits your face as he swings the door open. An earthy scent surrounds him, filling your car.

“Where to?” you ask, merging back into your lane.

“Wherever,” he grates, sounding like he hasn't spoken for a long time. It's as if the words are his own but he'd need to search for his voice again.

His red eyes look you over, settling onto your hands as they linger over the steering wheel. They're so vivid they practically glow in the dark. He's mesmerizing. It takes a lot out of you to not stare at him.

Up close, he's much more frail than you expected. His pale skin looks like it's never seen the light of day. It's nearly as light as the pearly white hair flowing past his shoulders. You notice that the back of his head is tangled but not the front.

Outside, the fog begins to clear. Settling in wisps around the trees. Rolling grassy hills are speckled with what you're now realizing are tombstones.

You glance at the man in the passenger seat, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

[bnha masterlist]

[urenbyneighborsartbasement]

Can’t run away

[veraberetta]

🄻🅈🄲🄰 𝙭 🄼🄲 (warnings in the tags)

Silly + Angsty NSFW-ish One-shot

characters: 3700-ish 📝💪('ω'💪)

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

Rui was buried in paperwork, filling out forms MC needed to deliver back to Moby. Ed sat in the same room, unusually quiet, book in hand, the steady flip of pages punctuating the scratching of Rui’s pen. They heard the muffled slam of the entrance door. Definitely Lyca.

As soon as he entered the room, his golden eyes immediately found MC. He hurried to meet her, tense, shoulders stiff, before his voice broke low and angry:

“Who let you get hurt?”

MC blinked. “Hurt?”

“You smell like blood” he snapped. “Don’t hide it if you’re bleeding!”

MC flushed crimson. Rui froze, his eyes wide looking at her, pen hanging midair. A second later, realization dawned and color shot up to the tips of his ears. Clearing his throat, he ushered Lyca toward the door with a very thin smile.

“Don’t worry. I’ll explain later. For now, let’s give her some space,” he said firmly. Next he practically shoved Ed out into the hall, then returned to MC with gentler hands– making herbal tea, draping a blanket over her shoulders, apologizing for not noticing earlier, and teasingly offering his own room before settling her into a guest bed instead. Whatever made her comfortable made him happy. He'd deliver the files for her.

That night, Rui found Lyca again. The conversation was stern but full of care: girls are sensitive about certain topics, and he was lucky MC is kind and understands it's not his fault not knowing things. Lyca nodded, both of them a little red-faced. He left feeling a bit confused but relieved it hadn’t been a "real" wound.

Walking back down the corridor, he crossed paths with Ed outside their rooms. Ed gave him a low glance, lips curving in a way that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Don’t worry too much,” he murmured. “Though… is that really all your nose picked up?” Then he slipped into his room, door shutting softly.

Alone, Lyca frowned. He thought back.

Flowers (always flowers).

Blood, yes, but mingled with the faint bitterness of medicine.

Something sweet– maybe chocolate? and hints of soap and shampoo.

It was all tangled together, dizzying. She smelled good. She was good. A few times she had asked to pat his head or touch his ears, and it felt nice, so he let her. She looked happy and said it was soft. He thought her hair looked soft too, but Rui and Subaru had warned him about touching other people, especially girls. Still, her hands were gentle, and she was kind. And her skin looked even softer–

A tremor shot through him. Heat pooled low in his body, sharp and undeniable. He looked down, eyes widening in horror. This wasn’t like before. Before, it was just instinct, just release– something Nero told him he could choose to give in to or ignore. Lyca was used to his werewolf nature betraying his humanity in the past, but this was his body betraying him as a whole. His breath caught.

It felt wrong. They weren’t like that. He wasn’t like that. He tried to shove it away, to deny it, but the images tangled in his mind: her scent lingering warm on his tongue, the softness of her hands, the way her hair caught the light. He hadn’t wanted this. His heart pounded like a hammer, the beat echoing, his skin damp with sweat. The ache gnawed at him, twisting something gentle into something guilty. And no matter how many times he told himself to stop, the heat stayed. His body didn’t listen. His hands moved on their own.

From the other room, Ed smiled.

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

[bbymochiiiiii]

Silent Heroes - ONE

DC Fanfic

ONE - The What If Masterlist

The couch was too small for two grown people, but they made it work — legs tangled awkwardly, the TV flickering in the background with some low-budget reality show neither of them were really watching.

Stephanie shifted, grimacing as her arm bumped the sling strapped to her shoulder.

Across from her, sprawled half-off the other side of the couch like he didn’t have a spine, Oakly snorted, eyes flickering away from the TV towards her with a grin threatening to break across his face.

"You fell off a fire escape, Brown," he said, dry as hell. "A fire escape. That's like... Gotham 101. What are you even doing out there?"

Steph stuck her tongue out at him and adjusted the pillow jammed under her elbow.

"Slipped," she said defensively, rolling her eyes. "It was raining. It was wet. Shut up."

Oakly grinned, sharp and easy, and then went right back to rambling, his voice loose, casual, the way it only ever got when he was at home.

"Anyway," he continued, tipping his head back against the cushion, "Mio tried to crawl into the laundry chute again. Fourth time this month. Leila practically begged me to fish him out before the fire department got involved — 'cause last time they made her fill out incident reports and she’s convinced they’re gonna put her on some CPS watchlist."

Stephanie laughed under her breath.

"You get him out?"

Oakly shrugged lazily.

"Bribed him with Oreos and the promise of learning how to pick locks."

Steph choked.

Oakly just smirked — that slow, easy smirk that usually meant I'm kidding and I'm not at the same time.

Stephanie leaned her head back against the couch, listening to him talk — about Leila’s stress, about Mio’s latest attempt at breaking the sound barrier on his skateboard, about the old neighbor upstairs who kept trying to leave "offerings" at Oakly’s door because she was convinced he was some kind of guardian spirit.

The sling dug into her shoulder — dull and aching — but she barely noticed.

Because somewhere between Oakly’s deadpan stories and the hum of the broken heater, a thought sneaked up on her:

He could have been something else.

Not just museum tours and babysitting rescues.

Oakly had been good at it — scary good. Fast, brutal, smart. The kind of fighter you didn’t see coming until he was already in your blindspot.

If he’d stayed, if he’d let himself be pulled deeper — he could’ve been one of Gotham’s best.

But he hadn’t.

He was here. Half-asleep, hair messy, laughing about a ten-year-old stuck in a laundry chute.

And Steph couldn’t tell if it made her heart ache or feel lighter.

Maybe both.

Oakly reached over, plucked the remote out of her good hand.

"When's Cass coming? Did she get tired of your ass yet?"

"Bite me," she said automatically, tossing a popcorn kernel at his forehead.

He caught it mid-air, smirking.

For a moment — just a moment — it was easy to forget that there was a whole other world outside this apartment.

A world that ate people alive.

Note:

We're just jumping right into it guys - buckle up

[foxsketch6543]

Some fanart of 'There's Something with Amy' by Mashed which is a 'Sonic the Hedgehog' fan animation, please check it out because the writing is very good along with the voice acting and animation.

DON'T TRUST TAILS

THE VIDEO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUm1ihpJPBk