broad daylight in horror is massively underused

there’s a constant feeling in nighttime horror of “this is an unnatural, liminal situation you’ve stumbled into. once you make it to the other end, or if everyone were to know the truth, you will be free of it.”

once the sun crests the horizon, however, there’s an unspoken shift in the underlying tone. this aberration of the natural order has come under all scrutiny and it is still there. you continue to cry for normalcy, but the world does not acknowledge what you believe it should be. no amount of truth or time will end this, and in my favourite of executions the very framing and narrative itself doesn’t acknowledge the dissonance. 

it all comes back to alienation, in the end. always.

if nighttime horror evokes a sense of isolation through salvation being just out of reach, then daytime horror evokes it through the realization that it never existed to begin with. that the walls and locks were all paper-thin artifice. that this is now tomorrow. forever.

broad daylight in horror is seeing the yawning abyss and knowing there’s nothing to wake up to.

I think about this a lot because I grew up on the high plains.

I maintain that while the forest is terrifying because it’s dark and you don’t where you can be attacked from, the plains are more horrifying. Imagine seeing a creature just coming toward you on the horizon. You never lose sight of the abomination as it comes closer and closer. You know it’s there the whole time. You look around, and there is no where to hide. You can only run until you can’t run anymore.

good morning to horror fans, fat bitches, people with psychosis, they/thems, people who can’t drive, trans women, witches, and single dads. the rest of you... you’re on your own

WHEN COMES THE DAWN --

Presenting | His Imperial Highness Prince Charles vi Aetier, Imperessor of the great Aetierian Empire and heir presumptive to the Phoenix Throne

Meidther |

Second child of His Imperial Majesty Emperor Dantalion vi Aetier in his marriage to Illysandre vi Soresi, consort-premier. The child of politics, of duty, of security—born happy and hale and perfect. He is named Charles after the great kings that came before him, in hopes that he, too, will live up to that name. He is his father’s pride, his mother’s joy, and the empire’s hope for stability. The Bonny Prince, the people call him. The Awaited Heir, the courtiers say. My little lion, his mother says, gazing upon him as if he will hang the moon and stars in the sky. My little king.

Vithail |

He lives sixteen years with the world at his fingertips, learning from the wisest, eating the best, clothed in the finest a prince could ever be. But he is empty. For all that Charles is loved, for all that he is favored, he cannot help but feel hollow. He flirts, he plays, hunts, rides, loves and is loved yet still that ache remains. He yearns for that something. Something more than his life of glittering jewels and strict lessons and impossible expectations. He yearns and yearns for an idea he does not know, only that it might give him fulfillment beyond the future that has been laid out before him.

Aphel |

He is sixteen. His heart is full of yearning, his future is laid clear, and it is bright and glorious. Then— she arrives. A half-sister who is spoken of in hushed tones only when he is out of earshot and she looks upon him with such loathing that it scares him. Now, Charles is pressured to fight for his title, to defend the birthright he never wanted, never craved, because what is he but prince and heir? What else is he?

[Taglist + psd credit under the cut]

every time i see one of those “best horror movies of 2010′s/horror movies that defined the 2010′s” posts, it’s always the same ones and like, sorry to have to be the one to tell y’all that half of those sucked and weren’t as deep or stand-out as they’re made out to be

instead, might i suggest the following titles for consideration:

instead of “the witch”:

instead of “hereditary”:

instead of “midsommar”:

instead of “the lighthouse”:

additionally:

@literatureladies mission 04 : antagonists — Lady Macbeth from Shakespeare’s play, ‘Macbeth’

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stop using hospitals as horror settings

fun alternative: cruise ships. cruise ships exploit workers and can pollute as much as a million cars on a daily basis while dumping endless shit into the ocean and endangering all passengers on board because the on board air quality rivals some of the most polluted cities in the world while being a breeding ground for disease. cruise ships deserve to have negativity associated with them

also all crimes commited aboard a cruise ship is under the juristiction of whichever country they’re registered to once they’re a certain distance away from land so you have the added bonus of the crimes being very unlikely to be properly investigated (due to usually being physically so very far from the actual police whose juristiction they’re under)

terrifying!

On top of THAT cruise ships tend to have their own morgue, as people tend to die on ships all the time. Good for those spooky scenes.

plus u can just like…leave a hospital. good luck escaping a killer or a monster or a curse or w/e in the middle of the fucking ocean

Fun things to consider about cruise ships:

AnyWAY the end point of this is that I AGREE. CRUISE SHIPS ARE SO FUCKIN RIPE FOR HORROR.

One of the most frustrating things about being a bilingual writer is knowing the perfect word or phrase to describe something in the language you’re not writing in. Any attempts to translate it or recreate it in the language you’re writing it just isn’t right because there’s no direct translation and it doesn’t capture the nuance perfectly like the original word or phrase does!!!

*flips table in french*

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would anyone potentially be interested in staffing for a net centered around v.e. schwab books,,

When Come the Dawn | excerpt

– Written 2/28/2021, minor edits 3/1/20201 [CW: Death, violence, mentions of familicide]

“You look very lovely tonight,” Aretos said. “A bit more subdued than I expected, however.”

Fenice let out a dry laugh. “Did you expect I would attend dinner in my own home dressed like one of Eftansa’s courtiers?”

He points his fork at her. “To be honest, I did. Is that not how royalty should dress?” Aretos’ smile was draconic; wide and full of teeth, an imitation of a grin that held none of its joy. His lone silver eye sparkled like the jewels on his fingers or the gold that dripped from his tawny arms. Draped across his form— loose, like the hedonist he’s trying to portray— are fabrics of made of sumptuous brocade silk. A deep crimson in contrast to Fenice’s blue.

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Keep reading

My Halo cracked,

Your eyes turned dark.

Our wings pierced,

And we both fell.

But you my love,

Aged young again.

Took the mortal hand,

Sewed the slits on your back.

While I layed there,

Drowning in an ocean.

Bleeding from my eyes,

Wailing from my core.

In the end my darling,

All that was left of us.

Was a mortal man,

And a fallen angel.

- Larose

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