#(song is wolf like me by tv on the radio)

[willowser]

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

[toyourliking]

when the moon is round and full gonna teach you tricks that will blow your mongrel mind

[porcubus]

okok real question i forgot to ask like a week ago Uhhhhhhhhrrmmmm...... Music taste

omg Hello...Im shy.. and corny answer but I really do just listen to Whatever recently soad mostly the album mezmerize & everything everything the most But I also like garbage & femtanyl a lot Hmmm black kids screaming females pinnochiop the go team thrill kill kult.....prozzak....

[the-mystery-of-christ]

✝️ ✡️ ♾️ 🔥🌹👑 👁️ God 👁️ 👑🌹🔥 ♾️ ✡️ ✝️

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

Please remove the religion for the actual 😎 spirituality ❤️ All my love ❤️ I'm sorry if It doesn't seem like the real thing. I can promise you it is. 🕊️

God has nothing to do with pedophiles and the church... That was always man made bullshit 🫀

The anti-Christ hydra like dragon was the bank owners Rothschild's Illuminati, pedophilic secret society. 🐼 The beast was all the corporations and owners tumouring together out of the sea off of Disney cruise ships onto epstein island and other heavenly places like the beach and imagination. Space itself unfortunately.. 🍕

The false prophet was Mohamed & The popes. Whoever preached Gods truth wrong collectively two horns to the same old pedophilic goat ♰

I Am The Mystery of Christ... 🌹🍎🌹

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

Jeremiah 51:9 ► 🚨 🇺🇲 🚨

“’We would have healed Babylon, but she cannot be healed; let us leave her and each go to our own land, for her judgment reaches to the skies, it rises as high as the heavens.’ remember they worshipped the false god of babylon at bohemian grove. 🦉🫥🦉

❤️🤍🖤❤️🤍🖤❤️🤍🖤🤍❤️🖤🤍❤️🖤🤍❤️🖤

☠️ 🔥 All Hail the bringer of the End times 🔥 ☠️

[elletromil]

The great thing about being a 'let's put the same song on repeat for the next 3 months without listening to any other song on the album' type of music enjoyer, is that sometime when i grow into despair because i feel myself moving on from said song and i just know none of the 1423 songs in my likes are gonna do it, sometime i get to go 'you know that song from 2006 i still have in my rotation now? I dont think i've ever listened to any other song from that band'

And then i go listen to all their discography and go 'hot damn, so many new songs to put on repeat over the next few months :D'

[kveldulf-nightwolf]

Wolf Like Me - TV On The Radio (Lyrics/Español)

[total-derangement-of-the-senses]

Song of the Day

20 Feb., ‘23

[dogwithglasses]

Ralph have you seen the music video! It’s great

genuinely obsessed with this song

[punkitt-is-here]

Wolf Like Me by TV on the Radio is seriously such a good track. I know it's like, their most popular one by far, but come on, what a fucking BANGER. Tied with "Happy Idiot" for my fav TVOTR song.

[barkingatthemooninsteadofwriting]

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

Farewell Wanderlust by The Amazing Devil

Dear Your Holiness by Bayside

Mile Magnificent by molly @ofgeography

Wolf Like Me by TV On The Radio

Cobra (Rock Remix) by Megan Thee Stallion feat. Spiritbox

[silenthillmutual]

tagged by @frankensteinmutual :)

let me see... idk who all uses spotify but i will be tagging @go-go-devil @doomednarrative @loudmound @rottencore @rhywhitefang @kepler-22b @yahargulian @hermitminded @cobaltspartan @gamerism @abominableastronaut @geeneelee or if anyone else wants to do this just say i tagged you and i will listen to every song and pick. heart.

[justbugsnstuff]

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

This looks fun!

Cicada days by will wood

Tongues and teeth by the crane wives

The ballad of Jane Doe from the ride the cyclone soundtrack

You can’t fight the homestuck (idk who made it)

Wolf like me by TV on the radio

(I apologize for how absolutely random my song choices are)

[patchworkgargoyle]

🩸 A Steddie Big Bang Fic 🌙

Chapter 3

story by: @patchworkgargoyle || art by: @mcdadarts || playlist to come by: @steves-strapcollection Rating: E || Words: ~4.3k || CW: graphic depictions of violence, blood drinking || Full tag list on ao3! || Posting: weekly Fic title from Wolf Like Me - TV On The Radio NOW WITH ART!!! Thank you so much again, Gabe!! Please go check out his post and give it a reblog!

With a long, drawn out exhale, smoke oozed and twisted from Eddie’s lips. He watched it curl in the tiny vortices in the air and then dissipate into the rest of the haze hanging above his head in his bedroom. Iron Maiden blared, flat and tinny, through the speakers of the shitty tape deck he’d salvaged from the thrift store. He half-mouths, half-whispers along to the words, “Melting his face, screamin’ in pain, peeling the skin from his eyes…” and lazily shakes his head along to the increase in tempo, pillow messing up his hair.

It had been a good night. He’d made a few deals, enough to slip Wayne a bit of rent before he’d left for the plant and kept some for his new guitar fund. The thought made Eddie grin. Shifting, he glanced at the cut out ad from the metal magazine he’d snagged from the record store, taped up on the mirror. An old cigar box sat beside his Fender amp, propped open with the steadily growing stash solely for the Warlock. He couldn’t fucking wait to get his hands on it. Wayne’s old guitar was great, sure, but a Guyatone is no Warlock. Soon as he had his hands on that pretty thing, he’d be unstoppable. Y’know, figuratively.

Sighing, he flopped back onto his bed and recounted the money in his head, the calculations easy after all the times he’d run them through. If he’d had a motivator like this in school, maybe he’d actually bother to pay attention in math class.

Not that it mattered anymore. Kinda hard to attend class when sunlight burned  his skin like gasoline on a bonfire. Turns out, being a vampire wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Eddie should’ve taken Louis de Pointe du Lac more seriously instead of rolling his eyes at the book and calling him dramatic. And he knew dramatic. Who wouldn’t want to live forever as a badass creature of the night? Well, he ate those words for sure.

He sings along to another song now, the rapid drumbeat pulling him out of his tiny pity party. “Now you’re alone but alive for how long? Dead men tell no tales,” he rasps out, throat dry from the smoke, but managed to wail along and play some air guitar with a small grin.

It would’ve drowned out the knock on the trailer’s front door, should have if not for the whole “vampire thing.” But little escaped his notice now. It was annoying when the neighbours in the Winnebago a few lots down wouldn’t do the decent thing and fuck quietly. It’s like they didn’t care that a creature of the night lurked amongst them. The nerve of some people.

The knocking came again, more demanding this time, and Eddie groaned loudly. Not bothering to turn off the cassette, he rolled out of bed with a frown and stomped down the hall. As he unlocked the door, he started speaking.

“If you’re not a petite blonde or looking to get high, you’d better have a great fucking excuse for–”

The words died out as soon as he saw Steve Harrington looking up at him from the bottom of Eddie’s stoop, half lit by the light from the kitchen, half shaded by Eddie’s silhouette. One of his eyebrows twitched up quizzically, as if Eddie was the odd man out here. He nearly laughed before his throat closed around the sound.

Not only was it weird to see Harrington gracing the Forest Hills trailer park with his presence; not only was it strange to see Harrington at his door when they’d barely even interacted before. It was fucking terrifying. Eddie knew what he was. Chrissy had told him. Steve Harrington, star of multiple Hawkins High sports teams in his day, rich and entitled asshole hailing from hoity-toity Loch Nora, hunted goddamn monsters on the side for funsies. And Eddie, of course, was one of those monsters.

Shit.

“Well, well, well. The Hair Himself at my humble abode. To what do I owe the honour?” Eddie asked with a tight smirk, bowing sarcastically.

“Uh,” Steve said eloquently. His eyes darted over Eddie as he straightened out of his bow, his confused eyebrow drawing higher. “Just hoping to buy some weed, man.”

Eddie hesitated. Weighed his options. “Fine. One sec,” he said, turning back inside. He went to close the door and leave Harrington waiting outside, but Harrington jogged up the steps, following like a lost puppy, and Eddie froze, staring at him.

“What, you’re really leaving me outside? It’s cold,” Harrington said. It must be, Eddie figured, though he didn’t exactly feel the cold anymore. But Harrington had shown up in a polo of all things, not a jacket or sweater to be seen.

Had he planned it that way? It was a good excuse to get inside, and if Eddie denied it he’d be an asshole at best, but look suspicious at worst. Or, y’know, more so than the rest of Hawkins already thought. Eddie might seem like he was hiding something. He hated being out-schemed.

“Bring a jacket next time,” he sneered, but left the door for Harrington to close behind himself. 

Trudging to his room, Eddie heard Harrington follow a short distance behind. His heart beat faster than its usual sluggish pace, knowing he now had a whole-ass monster hunter in his home, had turned his back to the guy even. Jesus christ. If he survived this–if Harrington really was just after some weed–he’d thank whatever unholy thing probably held his undead soul captive for letting him see another night.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t got much left, so you might be S.O.L. if you’re looking for more than a few grams.”

“Got any pre-rolled? Kinda bad at doing it myself.”

“Of course,” Eddie muttered to himself. Then, louder and sarcastically sweetly, “I’ll whip one up just for you, sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” He heard Harrington give a short laugh.

In his room, Eddie gestured to the one chair least covered in dirty clothes. “Make yourself at home.”

Harrington stared down at the clothes pile before apparently deciding to lean against his dresser, arms crossed over his chest. Eddie fished his lunchbox out from under his bed–sending a few dust bunnies and crumpled campaign notes scattering–and sat on his bed with a huff, watching from under his bangs as Harrington awkwardly took up space. He’d started to aimlessly rifle through the various odds and ends piled on the dresser.

“You’re nosy,” Eddie commented dryly, and Harrington withdrew his wandering fingers, tucking them back under his arms. Unfortunately for Eddie, he could sense the flush of embarrassment that flooded Harrington’s cheeks, blood tingeing his cheeks just the slightest bit pink that might as well have been a flashing neon sign to Eddie’s ever-present hunger, even if it did smell a little… different. Must be something about hunters, and that thought pulled Eddie right back to the present. Telling himself to screw his goddamn head back on straight, or as straight as it could be, Eddie pulled out some rolling papers, weed, and a grinder and got to work.

“So what’ve you been up to these days?”

Eddie snorted at the question. “Don’t need to make small talk, dude, awkward silences are just fine with me.”

“I wasn’t- I’m just curious, Munson. Don’t see you around town much.”

“So you’ve been keeping tabs on me?” Eddie tried his best to sound not terrified. Maybe leaned a little too flirty, but it was hard to control the impulse when the thought of Harrington watching out for him sends a thread of panic down his spine. It might prove to be a decent distraction at least.

Scoffing, Harrington said, “Nah, you’re just hard to miss.”

That, at least, made Eddie laugh some. “Got that right,” he mumbled, shaking the grinder out into a rolling paper. “Been up to this, Harrington. Selling illicit substances to the not-so-sober populace of Hawkins. Maybe playing a few shows at The Hideout once in a blue moon.”

“That’s all, huh?”

He sounded casually judgemental, even stood there examining his nails, but Eddie didn’t miss the keen way those brown eyes met his briefly before glancing down to his chest. Eddie swallowed.

“What, not good enough for you?”

“Just saw you at Penny’s party last weekend, hanging out with Chrissy Cunningham is all.”

Eddie’s fingers paused around the half-rolled joint. He couldn’t look up. Forced his hands back into their habitual motions. “Yeah. I go to parties sometimes. Kinda part of the job.”

Silence stretched like frost between them, a chilly, widening divide, while Eddie finished the joint. Somehow he managed to keep his hands from shaking. Eventually, he had to look up, so he did and held the joint out across the chasm of the small room.

Harrington was watching him. Really, it felt like he hadn’t taken his eyes off Eddie since his first question, his gaze intense. His stomach threatened to drop through the floor.

“You guys go anywhere else that night?”

He blinked. “What- is that what this is about?” He stood and tossed the joint to the floor. “Did fucking Carver send you? Is that asshole seriously sending his old basketball buddy to come intimidate me because he thinks ‘his girl’ is fucking another guy? Well, newsflash shithead, we didn’t do anything!” Eddie glared at Harrington as he stomped towards him, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to calm the hell down. He really couldn’t afford to lose control. But he was tired of getting kicked around by these fuckers for no actual reason, and he sure wasn’t going to let them drag Chrissy through the mud either.

To his credit, Harrington stood his ground as Eddie stalked forward. “That’s not what this is–”

“Oh, it’s not?” Sarcasm dripped from Eddie’s words. “Good. Then get the fuck out of my house.”

“No.”

“Fuck you, Harrington. Get. Out–”

With a single step, Harrington got right in Eddie’s face. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, he brought his free hand to Eddie’s face and before he could pull away Harrington jabbed his thumb against Eddie’s lips. His upper lip. Pushing, he exposed Eddie’s teeth. Eddie froze.

Oh fuck.

“Weird how your teeth got pointier the angrier you got, Munson.”

Breath caught in Eddie’s lungs. Not that he needed to breathe anymore. But as his wide, panicked eyes stared into Harrington’s cold, single-minded stare, he still felt like choking on air. That thumb still pressed against his sharpened canine tooth, the warmth of it as shocking as it was… enticing. Eddie could feel the subtle pulse of blood under the pad and, unbidden and unwanted, he started to salivate. Goddamnit, this wasn’t the time.

“Listen–” he began, his tongue brushing against that fucking thumb and sending a wave of hunger through him right as Harrington tore his hand away from his mouth with a sneer. “Man, I swear, I haven’t done anything or killed anyone-”

“So that werewolf in the woods out back was, what? A ghost?”

“Sorry, werewolf?”

Harrington yanked him closer. “Don’t play dumb, Munson.”

“I’m not!” Eddie yelled, but Harrington wouldn’t budge. He could hear it, in his elevated but steady heartbeat, saw it in the set of his brow. Shit. Shit.

Whatever. He was just a fucking human. Trained to fight things like Eddie, sure, but that’s all. Eddie wasn’t.

The low light of his room grew brighter as his eyes changed. He could see, now, the faint jump in Harrington’s neck, but pushed it aside. Grabbing Harrington’s arm, hand still clutching his shirt, Eddie twisted, fast, faster than a human. The momentum, the speed, sent Harrington stumbling. His knees hit the bed, but before he had the chance to recover, Eddie ran.

As he sped down the hall, a low growl rumbled out of his room. “What the fuck. What the fuck!?” he panted.

Rapid footsteps thundered behind him. Eddie’s hair stood on end. Reaching the door, he went to throw it open, desperate to get the hell out of there, but Harrington slammed into him. A broad hand shut the door with enough force to knock mugs off the wall and rattle the window. Another landed on his back. Eddie’s face and chest hit the door. He let out a pained groan, wincing his eyes open.

There, right by his face, was the hand Harrington had been examining earlier. Only the blunt nails were growing. Thick brown hair started to sprout from the back of his hand as dark, curved nails–claws–embedded themselves in the metal of the trailer door with a muted squeak.

“What the fuck are you, man!?” Eddie’s voice broke, raw and breathless. The hand on his back grabbed his shirt and flung him towards the living room. Nearly tripping, Eddie floundered until he found his footing, spinning to face whatever Harrington was turning into as fear clawed its way up his throat.

Standing in front of the door, chest rising and falling rapidly, Harrington looked changed. Like he was mid-transformation. His hands were the worst, furry, animalistic. His eyes were flashing more golden than brown, and his face–

“You should already know. You killed one of my kind last weekend,” Harrington grit out, almost growling, his lips moving awkwardly around the strange array of canine and human teeth, his nose and jaw uncannily elongated.

“I told you, I didn’t do it!”

Harrington’s head cocked to the side, dog-like, as his eyes roved over Eddie’s face. They narrowed. Just as he opened his mouth, primed to say more, the door behind him crashed open. Both men jolted, and Harrington whipped around to face the sound.

He came face to face with a tiny, furious cheerleader wielding a wicked crossbow, the bolt pointed between Harrington’s eyes. Her hands shook, and her eyes widened when she saw what Harrington looked like, but she didn’t waver.

“Leave him alone.” Her demand rang through the room, her usually sweet voice strong.

Eddie wished he could collapse with the relief that flooded through him. Still, he stayed upright, tension keeping him at a knife’s edge. Harrington wasn’t budging, so Eddie leaned into a crouch to pounce if the asshole tried to attack Chrissy. Like hell was he going to let her get hurt, coming to his rescue again.

The trio didn’t move. It felt like a stand-off. Eddie hated it, hated staring at Harrington’s back and hoping he could catch any telltale twitch of muscle foreshadowing an attack. The fur on his arms kept receding and growing, like he was stuck, deciding whether to fully transform–into a goddamn werewolf–or revert back to a human. It was weird as fuck to watch.

“Chrissy, you shouldn’t be here,” Harrington eventually said, hands balling into fists.

“No, I really should be. Whatever you’re after him for, he didn’t do it. He doesn’t kill people.”

“He’s a vampire, of course he does.”

Eddie let out an indignant, “Hey!”

“Okay, and werewolves, what? Don’t lose control on the full moon? Don’t randomly attack people?” she asked. Her perky sarcasm nearly made Eddie laugh, couldn’t help but let a small snort escape. Yet, while she spoke, Harrington’s head tilted to the side again. Like he was listening for something. In the silence, Eddie caught it too. Bike wheels.

They came to a skidding stop and the bike clattered to the ground while a familiar voice cursed up a storm and bolted up to the trailer. A mop of curls barely contained by a cheesy trucker hat bounded in the open door, past Chrissy, shouting, “Wait! Wait, wait, wait!”

“Henderson?” both Harrington and Eddie said, the two of them glaring at each other.

“Yes, because apparently all of you need someone around with some actual goddamn sense!” Dustin waved his finger at all three teens, who looked at him with varying levels of annoyance, before landing on Harrington and pointing with the utmost sass. “Especially you, Steve! I told you Eddie was innocent. But did you listen? No!”

Harrington gave an offended scoff. “Are you kidding me? Dustin, it’s him. He’s a vampire, has the strength and speed to take down a whole werewolf if he really wanted to.”

That was news to Eddie, who didn’t bother hiding his surprise. Dustin immediately looked to Eddie, but instead of fear he looked fascinated. Awed.

“Really?” he asked, a grin breaking over his face. When he started walking towards Eddie, Harrington held him back with a decidedly human hand. Thank fuck the claws were gone. Dustin tried to shake him off, but the grip on his hoodie was too strong.

“Don’t go to him!”

“He’s not gonna hurt me, Steve, jesus christ you’re so overprotective.”

Eddie started to put his hands up, but went slower when Harrington began to growl again. “Listen, Harrington, I have zero interest in hurting Henderson. Or anyone. I swear on,” he gestured to the ceiling, and then the carpet, “whichever deity you’d trust more. I have no idea what you were talking about with this werewolf either.”

Squinting at Eddie’s chest again, Harrington gave a frustrated huff, and Dustin finally broke free from his restraint to speed walk over to Eddie. He didn’t even hesitate to grab Eddie’s wrist and start feeling his pulse, which Eddie protested with a half-hearted, “Hey!”

“You know he’s telling the truth Steve,” Dustin said. Harrington merely crossed his arms and went back to glaring at Eddie. In turn, Eddie pursed his lips and wiggled his head with mock triumph, letting Dustin do whatever poking and prodding he wanted to do just to prove to Harrington he could shove his suspicions where the sun don’t shine.

Chrissy, who watched the exchange alertly, finally lowered her crossbow and worked at getting the bolt out. “Why are you after Eddie, Steve?” she asked.

“The night of Penny’s party, Dustin and his friends found a dead werewolf in the woods a little ways away.”

“It was decapitated,” Dustin helpfully supplied, as if it were a fun fact and not a gruesome murder.

“Oh.” Chrissy paled. Meeting Eddie’s worried expression with her own, she said, “That’s pretty bad.”

“Doesn’t explain why you went after me, though,” Eddie said. “Do I just give off ‘werewolf killer’ vibes?”

Harrington’s jaw clenched and he stared at the floor. “You smelled like blood. At the party.”

“I what now?”

Sighing, Dustin planted his hands on his hips. “Yeah, because, clearly, he’s a vampire. Of course he’s gonna smell like blood.”

“I didn’t exactly know that, Dustin!” Harrington threw his hands up. “And where’d he be getting the blood from anyway?”

“Oh. Uhm. That would be me.” Dustin and Harrington turned to gawp at Chrissy. She’d leaned the unloaded crossbow against the open doorway and had started fiddling with the bolt, avoiding the sharp point. It was so at odds with her preppy, pastel sweater. She smiled at Eddie apologetically. “I might’ve insisted, since it’d help him eat regularly and he wouldn’t have to try and find it somewhere else.”

When Dustin turned to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at Eddie, he frowned and smacked the kid’s shoulder. Lightly. Light enough. “No.”

“Does Jason know?” Harrington asked, seeming tense. It didn’t ease when she shook her head, but he did let out a slow exhale.

“Is that the only reason you went after me? I just stank?”

It was Harrington’s turn to shake his head. “No, we found one of your weird band shirts there.” 

“Oh yeah, like there aren’t other metalheads in Hawkins,” Eddie snarked. Not that he thought any of the ones he knew could take on a werewolf, if Steve’s strength was anything to go by.

“It smelled like you, man.”

“Which is exactly why my theory is that you’ve been framed!” Dustin said, completely interrupting Eddie’s bizarre realisation that Harrington knew what he smelled like. He held his index finger aloft. “Someone knew it was yours, planted your shirt there, killed the werewolf. Why? Maybe they had some sort of feud. Maybe they thought other werewolves would find the corpse and seek revenge.” Eddie had a flat expression on his face as he motioned to Harrington, but Dustin waved him off impatiently while Harrington rolled his eyes. “No, no. I don’t think we were supposed to find it. No one knows about Steve except for our group, and maybe one or two creatures we’ve helped. Creatures who definitely wouldn’t do this. The killed didn’t account for us. And, I think, didn’t account for you being a vampire.”

Eddie groaned. “Okay, great. Someone’s pinned a fucking murder on me! This night just keeps getting better!” Without anything better to do, and wanting to ignore the desperate desire to grab Chrissy’s hand and run, he flopped onto the couch hard enough to make the springs squeak and covered his face with his hands.

“But! You have us on your side now.”

Peeking through his fingers, Eddie took in the sight in front of him. Dustin, hands on his hips again and chest puffed out, grinned in a way that was somehow both egotistical and childish. Harrington looked only slightly less aggrieved than Eddie felt, but at least he looked fully human again.

Slowly, Chrissy walked over to Eddie and sat beside him. She took one of his hands away from his face and held it reassuringly, despite the clear furrow of worry between her brows. He gave her hand a squeeze, a silent thank-you.

“Fine. What do you propose, my little detective?” Eddie asked, taking a tiny bit of glee from the slight sneer Dustin made at being called “little.” 

“I propose that we hide you away, make it so the real killer doesn’t know where you’ve gone, and see if that either flushes them out while they try to find you or if they commit another murder.”

“Jesus christ, Dustin, we can’t just wait around for another person to die!”

“I know, Steve, but that’s the cold, hard truth! We don’t know their next move. Hopefully they try to find you,” Dustin pointed at Eddie, “before they find another werewolf to kill again.”

Eddie didn’t miss Harrington’s pained grimace as he shuffled uncomfortably. The guy may have just pinned him against his own front door and flung him across his living room, but Eddie could, begrudgingly, sympathise. Harrington could very well be that next werewolf. Which, what a wild discovery that was.

“Did you know Harrington was a werewolf?” he whispered to Chrissy while Dustin and Harrington argued about the plan.

“No, not at all. Pretty sure Jason would’ve warned me if he knew, too. Though…” She pursed her lips and glanced at the subject of their gossip. “Maybe not. I don’t think he’d leave Steve alone if he knew.”

That seemed like a massive understatement. With what little Chrissy could relay about Carver’s reputation, Eddie knew that Harrington would be at just as much risk as Eddie would be if that asshole knew. Watching Harrington as he bugged out his eyes and shook his head at Dustin in frustrated disbelief, he also knew that he’d have a trump card over Harrington if he tried to rat him out to Carver or any other hunters. At least that was an upside to getting found out so disastrously.

Dustin seemed to win the argument, clapping his hands once and turning on his heel to face Eddie and Chrissy again. The kid really had a flair for the dramatic. “Alright. Eddie, you’re coming with us.”

“The hell I am,” he laughed, baffled.

“You need to. Either the killer got your shirt from somewhere, or they broke into your house and stole it. And pretty much everyone knows where you live, so. You can’t stay here.”

“And my uncle is, what, chopped fucking liver? What happens if he’s here, but I’m not, and the killer comes knocking?”

“I doubt he’s at risk. He doesn’t seem like a likely target. Unless he’s also a vampire?” When Eddie shook his head, Dustin continued, “There you go. Problem solved. You’re staying at Steve’s until we find this person.”

Harrington met Eddie’s offended look with one of resigned dread. “No way. Hide me at Chrissy’s.”

“I don’t think my parents would, uhm, agree to that.” Chrissy laid her other hand on top of Eddie’s. “Not to mention Jason.”

A low, whiny groan oozed out of Eddie as his head thumped back against the couch. It got louder when Dustin said, “Plus, if we saw you and Chrissy together, who’s to say the killer hasn’t?”

He felt like throwing a temper tantrum, fists flying and legs kicking, the whole shebang, if he weren’t being framed for murder. “Holing up at The King’s giant rich bitch mansion for who knows how long? Great. Wonderful. Always wanted to see how the other side lived,” he grumbled, not missing the loud sigh Harrington let out.

“Deal with it, Munson. This is the best we’ve got. I’m not thrilled about it either.”

“Oh goody. I’m an unwanted houseguest, even.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy started, “I know you’re scared, I am too. But… I do think they want to help. Their plan makes sense to me.”

Sighing, he dropped the sarcasm and dramatics. For now. “Yeah. I guess. Alright, Detective Henderson, I’ll go along with you and your loyal bloodhound.”

Dustin and Eddie both snickered at Harrington’s unimpressed frown.

[bzedan]

Shout out to Chase for a photo from the archives for this playlist cover.

October is always fun because I'm building or refining a monster playlist AND my monthly playlist (see all my Halloween playlists here). Like, how many songs from scary/spooky movies does one add? This time around, just two: 'Tenebre' (from the film of the same name) and 'Wolf Like Me' which has been used pretty often but most recently in Wendell & Wild. Balanced, I think, by the inclusion of 'Crockett's Theme' by Jan Hammer for Miami Vice.

Also, The The's new album sounds like Jack Skellington breaking out to do a solo album and I'm all about it.

Related media to some of the songs:

Joshua Ray Walker's album of covers, What Is It Even? is full of bangers and he discusses the influence of the women on his work and "countryfication" these particular covers over at Holler.

Go enjoy Roxy Music on Old Grey Whistle Test singing 'In Every Dream Home A Heartache' on Youtube. I always picture the setting to be one of those wild glass-walled modernist homes that are so Los Angeles, like the Stahl House.

'Downhill' is from Pom Pom Squad's latest album Mirror Starts Moving Without Me, which bangs. They're a joy of a band and the latest album is aesthetic as hell, as the lyric videos on their Youtube can attest.

Anyway here's a link to October's playlist on Spotify, with the track list below the cut.

And embedded, if you like:

'You Suck (the life out of me)' - Dead On A Sunday

'In Every Dream Home A Heartache' - Roxy Music

'Flesh For Fantasy' - Billy Idol

'I Will Walk You Home' - Melanie

'Life After Life' - The The

'Toxic' - Koen Fagen

'Cognitive Dissident' - The The

'Wolf Like Me' - TV On The Radio

'Black Country' - Tonstartssbandht

'Calling It' - Automatic

'Downhill' - Pom Pom Squad

'Linger' - Joshua Ray Walker

'Tenebre' - Claudio Simonetti

'Lose It' - Austra

'Smells Like Teen Spirit (feat. Mckenna Breinholt)' - Cinematic Pop

'Happy Together' - FLOOR CRY

'Magnum' - Show Me the Body

'WHOLESOME' - Indigo De Souza

'Lost Boys and Girls Club' - Dum Dum Girls

'Army of Me' - Björk

'All You Pretty Girls - 2001 Remaster' - XTC

'Dangerous Game' - Blu DeTiger

'Running Up That Hill' - Chromatics

'Black Leather Gloves - 7" Release' - Cosmetics

'Crockett's Theme' - Jan Hammer

'The Waves' - Wang Chung

'Deadbeat Club' - The B-52's

'Fever' - La Lupe

'All Shook Up' - Nick Lutsko

'Lovesong' - Dead On A Sunday

'Water Witch' - The Secret Sisters

'That's Life' - Lady Gaga

'Mad World' - Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox

[fanficfanattic]

Will you share your Jamie Tartt playlist? 👀

Buckle up boys! Hold on to your butts! Other ways to say brace yourselves!

To Build a Home (feat. Patrick Watson) by The Cinematic Orchestra

I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young

Sorrow by Bad Religion

The Greatest by Sia

Love I'm Given by Ellie Goulding

Runaway by AURORA

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

Move by Oliver Tree

High Hopes by Panic! At the Disco

Outrunning Karma by Alec Benjamin

Home by Cavetown

The Perfect Space by The Avett Brothers

A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley

False Confidence by Noah Kahan

Legend by The Score

The Competition by Kimya Dawson

In the Blood by John Mayer

Winner by Walgrove

Icarus by Bastille

Sympathy by The Goo Goo Dolls

Take Yours, I’ll Take Mine by Matthew Mole

People Help the People by Birdy

Daylight by David Kushner

Cough it Out by The Front Bottoms

Sober by P!nk

The Cave by Mumford & Sons

Tear It Up by Queen

Waves by Dean Lewis

Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson

We Don't Believe What's On TV by Twenty One Pilots

Blood In the Cut by K.Flay

Chameleon/Comedian by Kathleen Edwards

Water (feat. Rostam) by Ra Ra Riot

All is Soft Inside by AURORA

Pieces (feat. Noah Kahan) by Matoma

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + the Machine

Rise up With Fists!! by Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins

Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips

HandClap by Fitz and The Tantrums

Hi Ren by Ren

I Don't Belong In This Club by Why Don't We & Macklemore

Skinny Love by Birdy

Raising Hell (feat. Big Freedia) by Kesha

Go Places by The New Pornographers

The Night Starts Here by Stars

Ghost by Ella Henderson

Here We Go by WILD

If I Be Wrong by Wolf Larsen

Part of Me by Noah Kahan

We're Going to Be Friends

The White Stripes

Bitch by Meredith Brooks

Samson by Regina Spektor

Let's go to Hell by Tai Verdes

Raise Hell by Brandi Carlile

Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy

Don't Tell the Boys by Petey

Sober Up (feat. Rivers Cuomo) by AJR

O.N.E. By Yeasayer

Locked Up by Ingrid Michaelson

Like a Stone by Audioslave

Leave the Light On by Overcoats

Tough (feat. Noah Kahan) by Quinn XCII

touch tank by quinnie

Warrior by AURORA

Too Sweet by Hozier

I'Il Think of You by Kurt Hugo Schneider

Into the Ocean by Blue October

Star Fire by Sleeping Wolf

Happier (Stripped) by Marshmello & Bastille

Knievel by Tommy Lefroy

Walk Me Home by P!nk

Brat (Humor Me) by Deore

Am I Wrong by Love Spit Love

Someday by One Republic

7 Years by Lukas Graham

Stick Season by Noah Kahan

Like a Prayer by Madonna

Little Bit by Lykke Li

Bruises by Lewis Capaldi

Don't Carry It All by The Decemberists

Freaking Out by The Wrecks

Will Do by TV on the Radio

The Dirt by Tor Miller

Hope of Morning by Icon for Hire

Smile by Mikky Ekko

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service

Blood Brothers by Ingrid Michaelson

All My Friends by The Revivalists

Fuck Authority by Pennywise

Crazier Things by Chelsea Cutler & Noah Kahan

Kiss With a Fist by Florence + the Machine

Unstoppable by Sia

Can't Go to Hell by Sin Shake Sin

World's Smallest Violin by AJR

All I Know So Far by P!nk

Knocking at the Door by Arkells

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

The Seed by AURORA

Wine, Women and Song by Harvey Danger

The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience

All You Wanted by Michelle Branch

Young Blood by The Naked and Famous

Truth No. 2 by The Chicks

Homesick by Noah Kahan

Family Line by Conan Gray

The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

Heroes Never Die by NateWantsToBattle

My Number Tegan and Sara

Masterpiece by Big Thief

Til It Happens To You by Lady Gaga

I Don't Wanna Live Forever (Cups Version) by Kurt Hugo Schneider

Sit Down by James

Robots by Dan Mangan

Windowsill by Arcade Fire

Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson

Bite the Hand by boygenius

The Top (Bonus Track) by Primo the Alien

MEAN! (Remix) [feat. Noah Kahan] by Madeline The Person

Home We'll Go (Take My Hand) by Steve Aoki & Walk Off the Earth

From The Bottom Of My Heart by The Wallflowers

FourFiveSeconds by Rihanna and Kanye West and Paul McCartney

I Am the Resurrection by The Stone Roses

Chrome Plated Heart by Melissa Etheridge

Precious Love by James Morrison

Bones (feat. One Republic) by Galantis

Let's Go (feat. Icona Pop) by Tiesto

Unbelievers by Vampire Weekend

So What by P!nk

I Don't Feel Like Dancin' by Scissor Sisters

Creature Fear by Bon Iver

Brother by The Rural Alberta Advantage

Save Me by Noah Kahan

High and Dry by Radiohead

Power by Little Mix

Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men

The Boy Does Nothing by Alesha Dixon

Set You Free (Edit) by N-Trance

Stronger by Britney Spears

First Things First by Neon Trees

Kings & Queens by Ava Max

Welcome Home, Son by Radical Face

Capsize by FRENSHIP & Emily Warren

We Were Kings by Ryan Star

Come Undone by Duran Duran

Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John

Pride by Noah Kahan & mxmtoon

Everywhere by Michelle Branch

Blow Me (One Last Kiss) by P!nk

Dust Bowl Dance by Mumford & Sons

Bad Blood by Bastille

Blue Monday by New Order

Make Believe by The FAIM

Midnight Show by The Killers

Can't Fight the Moonlight by LeAnn Rimes

Ophelia by The Lumineers

Shaky Ground by Freedom Fry

Grounds for Divorce by Elbow

Heaven and Hell by Let's Play Dead

Survivor by The Score

Ready Now by dodie

Young Blood by Noah Kahan

Ain’t No Reason by Brett Dennen

King by Years & Years

Bulletproof by La Roux

Beating Heart Cadavers by Acollective

How to Rest by The Crane Wives

Santa Monica by Everclear

Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil

Get Some by Lykke Li

Sky Full of Song by Florence + the Machine

Beautiful Trauma by P!nk

Parachute (Serban Ghenea Mix) by Ingrid Michaelson

Down to the Bottom by Dorothy

YES MOM by Tessa Violet

Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold

Rise Up by Andra Day

Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Hurt Somebody by Noah Kahan

[fluffytheocelot]

Carmen Week Day 5: AU

AWW YE HERE WE GO BOIS I HAVE BEEN SO HYPED FOR THIS ONE! Sorry its a bit late lol

Anyways--

Last Wolf is very near and dear to me, it was the first fic I actually had the confidence to write, but Thief's Guide is almost completely my own. It's not based off of another series, pretty much all the worldbuilding and plot is mine. Last Wolf still follows the timeline and plot of the original show (changed and added to of course, but the original show is the backbone.

A Thief's Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse is exactly what it sounds like lol. Carmen and her friends surviving in an apocalypse while on the run from VILE and ACME, complete with a dope soundtrack.

And Julethief of course :) because i love them

This is definitely an AU I wanna write down, I promise. Uhh maybe when I get this chapter of Last Wolf out I'll start??? Maybe. We'll see lol.

Feel free to drop me an ask about it! or last wolf too lol.

Dope soundtrack:

if the song came out during or before 1986ish, then its probably something the characters would listen to (namely Carmen, jamming to cassettes she scavenges on her Walkman). anything after that would just be soundtrack/credits music if it was a show.

uhhh story info under the cut lol

Around the mid 1980s, Dr. Bellum's unnamed predecessor was experimenting with a virus that, well, turned people into zombies. The test run soon got out of hand, however, and the virus quickly spread to the entire world.

Technology pretty much stays the same. Radios, paper maps, Walkmans, stuff like that. Music and TV obviously aren't getting widespread release anymore, so anything that came out past like, 1986 doesn't exist.

(Wow Fluffy that's so unrealistic there's no way people wouldn't quarantine themselves to stop it-- *looks at 2020* nevermind)

VILE uses it as a power grab, offering people shelter, food, etc. in exchange for joining. Fun.

There's incredible amounts of chaos and violence for the first decade or so, until late 1999 when VILE faculty member Dexter Wolfe is assumed to have been caught and killed.

Two things happen: ACME arises as a direct rival to VILE, and VILE acquires a certain Black Sheep.

ACME wants to find a cure. VILE wants the apocalypse to keep going so they stay in power. VILE and ACME are both much more well known.

Black Sheep grows up in a VILE compound, learning all her important thief skills of course, as well as the skills needed to survive the apocalypse: Firearms, bows, blades, living in the wilderness, etc etc. Pretty much anything you can think of needing to know in the apocalypse, Carmen learned when she was like six lol.

She officially enrolls at about 15, and escapes at 16.

Eventually she figures out VILE wants the apocalypse to keep going and escapes into the night on horseback, with Cookie Booker's stolen hat and coat.

She's on the run for a while and eventually winds up in Ontario, where she meets a recently orphaned 12 yr old Player. The two become fast friends and pretty much grow up together over the next few years. Carmen is very protective of Player and teaches him how to survive in case anything happens to her.

They make their way to Boston, pick up Zack and Ivy, and Team Red is complete! (for now)

Along the way they eventually acquire our favorite grumpy ninja, Carmen's favorite ACME agent, an aussie electrician and a couple more surprise people ;)

Carmen also discovers she may be the key to ending the apocalypse, but is ACME really what they say they are?