#Curse of the Devil

[weirdlookindog]

Paul Naschy in El retorno de Walpurgis (1973)

[siren-darkocean]

Welcome to another episode of Conservative Christians being dumbasses and the most confusing people that exist

I never thought humans could get so retarted, then I saw Conservative Christians when someone doesn't fit their damn book

[babvc-au]

Alrighty Folks! The Time Has Finally Come!

Hopefully this is everything and i didn't miss any panels or doodles for this post, but here is almost everything about BABVC's comic sketches, wips, doodles, refs, and even scripts i never finished, plus more! Doodles and other art stuff will be added to the end of this post. (Due to how many wips i have and such, there will be multiple reblogs happening as i go through this so bare with me.)

So, did you want to know how BaBvc would have went? Here's your answer. (This will contain a mix of the script, old comic wips and context)

Now, well jump to where we left off in the comic with a smol refresher.

Scene 6 Nightmare:

It's dark and bendy is in a black like void. He hears voices.

"Why? You had a chance!" OB growls.

"Who's there!?" Bendy shouts.

"Why did you resist?" OB

"What?"

Bendy's eyes are suddenly covered by cold clawed hands. And he tries to pry them off.

"Why!?" OB

"What are you talking about?! Who are you!" Bendy growls trying to fight them off.

"Don't keep me waiting much longer" we see the claws retract and three tails around Bendy.

"I'm sick of waiting"

The last shot is of Bendy's demon cross eye.

“But, how…?”

He hears a yawn from Boris as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “good morning, Bendy”

Boris blinks at Bendy’s hand and the bag, "You better not eat that so early in the morning, Bendy.” Boris scolded, ears pinned back.

“What? No, i wouldn't do that. But...” Bendy says, looking at the can thoughtfully. "Did you get some more after last night…?" He asked the tall wolf. Boris raised a brow at him, confused. 

"What do you mean?" He asked. "That's the same bag from last night when we went to the market right?" He asked. 

"Well yeah but, I lost it, remember?" Bendy said and looked up at his younger brother. Boris stares at him in confusion. "...You did?" He asked. 

Camera focuses on the can in his hand.

Scene 8:

Bendy and Boris enter Berry cafe and take a seat at a booth.

"So you honestly don't remember?" Bendy starts looking across the table to his younger brother.

"I really don't. I only remember us getting the stuff, and then after that, it's all blurry. Like I blacked out or something, and then it was morning." Boris replied. "Are you sure you didn't just imagine you lost it? Maybe it was a dream that you had last night." He points out.

"..." Bendy thinks, "Maybe you're right. I've been having weird dreams, and I guess it's possible." He says tiredly. "Though it really felt like I wasn't dreaming." He mumbled to himself.

Then Melody comes around shortly after and asks them what they would like to order. "Hello, welcome to Berry's Cafe. What would you - oh! It's you two, the usual then?" She smiles and lifts her paper and pen.

Bendy lifts his head and gives a small smile. "Ah, yeah, for me, at least. Boris?" He looks over expectantly for his order.

"Oh! um, what's the special today?"

"New York cheesecake drizzled in strawberries and syrup, it's so good!" she smiles and hugs her notepad dreamily.

Boris perks at that smiling "Guess I know what I'm getting now, (haha) and can I get a hot coco with that, thanks Melody."

"No problem! I'll put your order in right away." She nods and walks away allowing Bendy to see the other residents in the cafe. And surprisingly enough he sees someone familiar. His eyes widened a little, shocked.

(Isn't that-?)

Bendy looks at his right wrist and rubs it lightly.

(So it hadn't been a dream? I should probably thank him.)

Bendy stood, making Boris look at him. "Bendy?"

"I'll be back."

Bendy walks away and heads for the familiar person.

"Uh, Hey." he says. Catching Cupheads attention who opens his eyes. He looks a little confused and shocked to see Bendy for a moment.

"I wanted to say thanks for the other night you really helped me back there." Bendy says looking to the side awkwardly.

Cuphead says nothing for a minute. His shock turns to annoyance.

"Yeah, whatever, watch yourself, you're lucky I found you when I did." Cuphead says with a steady look. "Didn't your mom teach you not to walk around at night by yourself?"

"It's dangerous." He glares, narrowing his eyes.

Bendy furrows his brows at the semi aggressive tone. "Hey, I came to thank you, not get a lecture! And I wasn't by myself."

"..."

"Anyway like I said, thank you, seriously." Bendy frowned.

Cuphead stands up and looks down at Bendy, who looks up at him in return nervously as they stare at each other.

"Here you go sir, your order." Tostie says, giving Cuphead two drinks.

"Thanks," he says.

She walks away.

"There you are, Cuppy!" A new voice sounds in the cafe besides Bendy.

Mugs comes over and stands by his brother's side. Who gives him an exhausted look.

"Here." Cuphead hands him the second drink.

"Oh! Were you in the middle of something?" Mugs looks between Bendy and Cuphead.

Cuphead gives Bendy another glare.

"No. Let's go." He walks off, but Mugs falters and gives Bendy a nervous smile and a wave before he follows.

"Geez, what a jerk." (At least the other guy was nice) Bendy sweats but shrugs it off heading back to Boris.

"Was that someone you knew?"

"Uh, not exactly," Bendy says as he slides back into the booth.

It's silent for a moment before Boris speaks up.

"Bendy, listen, I know you're just as confused as I am, but you haven't told me a single thing about what happened last night, I was really worried about you."

"I know, I promise to tell you when I've made sense of it, ok? Just… give me some time."

Boris sighs, "...Ok"

Bendy looks away and out the window covered in fog with a thoughtful look. It starts to snow a little.

Scene 9

Cuphead glares ahead. (The hell? Did I not wipe his memory correctly? And what's with that weird smell?) He rubs his nose.

Mugman watches him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cuphead mutters. “I just need to go to the casino… again.”

Mugman frowns. “Huh? Why?”

“I’ll tell you later—unless you wanna come with me.”

Mugman hesitates, then nods. “Mmm… I’ll go with you.” Cuphead glances at him, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he keeps walking.

(Que this scene where they report to The Devil about Bendy being immune to memory wiping)

"Sir, I've come to report something." [Kneeling]

"What is it?"

"There's someone i met that's immune to memory wiping."

"..."

"Is that so..."

(Thus, The Devil orders Cuphead to keep an eye on Bendy and to report back if anything happens.)

Scene 12

Cuphead (bat form) climbs through the crack of the window in the kitchen. He hops to the ground and transforms back into his toon form. He dusts himself off and then looks up. Unexpectedly Bendy was in the doorway and saw everything.

(Que a funny nervous Bendy stares and throws a mug at Cuphead.)

Bendy runs to his couch and starts his spiel.

"What are you doing in my house!? Are you going to kill me!? You're a vampire! Aren't you supposed to stay out of houses unless you're invited!? Or something!?

"Huh?"

"Wait a minute, vampires have other weaknesses! I think I have a few things!"

Bendy runs out of the room, and Cuphead is left in confusion.

"Okay...this is weird." -sigh-

Bendy comes in and out with various "vampire deterrents"

"Garlic!?"

"No"

"A cross!?"

"Nope"

"A stake!?" (It's a twig)

"Na-da"

"Sunlight!?" (Its a flashlight.)

"Did you forget you saw me at the café?"

[wanyaneedanemesis]

If Shen Qingqiu and Wenren È were to meet:

Bonus:

Guess who just finished reading Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know

Shen Yuan would absolutely be one of the haters of the original Abusive Romance: You Are the Unchanging One in My Heart, if the book had ended up in his universe in my heart it did

Maybe I'll draw a part 2 of SQQ and WRE bonding over their respective adventures and having partners who almost went crazy after they "died"

This is partially propaganda for all the SVSSS fans out there, READ DVAWTK 🫵🫵

[acid-ixx]

eating up this hanahaki angst au fic idea for the batfam but the chronic fatigue hit you so hard that you get mind fog so you're unable to post the finished draft idea tonight, so guess yall have to wait until tomorrow LMAO 😭

[dysfunctionalcreature]

obviously all the characters in Interview With The Vampire have such tragic pasts, and they each have so many good lines of dialogue that beautifully capture that trauma, but the one I just keep coming back to is Armand saying, voice shaking, "No one has painted me in over 400 years". It's the sadness and resentment in his voice, the implications of it, partly he just misses Marius I'm sure, but I really think that it's more than that, Armand is so deeply insecure, I can't help but think that maybe he doesn't consider himself worthy to be painted, he says "No one has painted me in over 400 years" and I can't help but hear "It has been 400 years since I was worth painting"

[goryhorroor]

horror symbols: crucifixes

In horror movies, crosses are often used as protective charms or magical weapons against supernatural enemies, but in horror movies critiquing catholicism, it could relate to a character a tramua of theirs and what is being used to scare them.

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

"You can't go around judging people on first impressions. That's how mistakes get made." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"The police investigate footprints and look for fingerprints. I take the results of these investigations and by piecing together all the available information logically, I am able to reach a conclusion. Those are my methods of deduction." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"The Killer had submitted the problem of a locked room murder and dared us to solve it. It was going to be a battle of wits. Perfect. Challenge accepted! If it was brains and logic and wit that were required, I was ready to do battle." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"In our world there are some things so dreadful, so terrifying that you would scarcely believe they existed. They are things that common sense and accepted practice would dictate are impossible, but they do exist. Out of reason... that's right. It's a mad state of affairs." - Yokomizo Seishi, Death on Gokumon Island

"Yet, while his unchanging gratitude and devotion to the priest's family were certainly commendable, Sahei failed to realize that everything - even gratitude - has a limit that should not be exceeded, and that his excessive gratitude toward the Nonomiya family would embroil his own kin in a series of bloody murders after his death." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"Thirty years can weave strange patterns in the tapestry of life." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"With the blind spot that had been hindering his thought process finally removed, everything had fallen into place for him with great speed. All day yesterday, he had been stacking building blocks of deductive reasoning in his mind, with the result that now he had reproduced the entire complex structure of the mystery." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"Were it not for the events that I am about to relate, doubtless my life would have continued in that impoverished, humdrum vein. But one day a spot of red was suddenly split on the grey of my life: I embarked on an adventure of dazzling mystery and stepped into a world of blood-chilling terror." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves

"Nothing is more frightening in this world than ignorance and stupidity." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves

"The events I am about to describe are filled with such darkness and sadness, are so cursed and hate-filled, that not a word I write can possibly offer the faintest glimmer of hope or relief. Even as the author, I cannot predict what the final sentence will be, but I fear that the relentless dread and darkness that precede it may end up overcoming the readers and crush their very spirits in its grasp." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders

"Everyone here is a bit twisted somehow. All they feel for each other is suspicion, resentment and fear. I couldn't tell you why that is. It's as if they're all just waiting for their chance to stick the knife in. As if they think that if they don't, then they'll be on the other end of the blade." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders

Yokomizo Seishi has also been added to the BSD-Bibliophile Online Library!

You can find more information about Yokomizo-sensei on the following pages: List of Books in English Quotes and Facts Collection Fun Facts Author Connections

[oldbutchdanielcraig]

idk it’s just like. you do have to wonder if she changed his mind a little. if he thought about it. if he ever thought, if even just for a moment, that maybe he could be what daniel needed to survive.

[shitty-malevolent-aus]

au where this is all because of the ao3 authors curse

"So sorry for the delay a cosmic god took my eyes and I had to evade law enforcement and a bunch of cults. more updates soon"

[weirdlookindog]

El retorno de Walpurgis (1973) - VHS cover

[fallbabylon]

Hex! Museum of Witchcraft-Ribe, Denmark

[lice-haver]

Shoutout to the time in the last olympian where Nico takes Percy Jackson on the worst date of all time is convinced he’s doing a great job and then fucks it up so bad that Percy very nearly almost murders him.

[raviollies]

Of course I was going to do this meme with her

& a Tome of Strahd version for the OGs

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

extremely unpopular ship but. marc/luca with 24 + 21

marc/luca: 21 (biting) + 24 (dacryphilia)

Luca braces for it like he braces for hitting the ground after being highsided off his bike. Marc saying you’re nothing like Valentino or you’re just like Valentino. Or—God fucking forbid—being sorry about how shit the Honda is. Poor boy, wasting his career on a comeback that won’t deliver.

He never does. Which is half the reason that they’re doing this, in the first place.

It’s not an accident, is the thing. Luca enjoys making mistakes with his eyes wide open.

He grinds up into Marc, dirty, slow sweeps, right against his prostate. The wet squelch of lube echoes gunshot loud between them, accusatory—as does Marc’s breathless little gasp. Luca keeps at it, again, again, again, so he’ll get another one of those noises, but Marc only throws his head back, puts it against his shoulder, miles of smooth, tanned skin in his bobbing throat.

Pretty, Luca thinks, a hysterical little laugh stuck behind his teeth, shaking when he runs a forcibly idle touch over Marc’s waxed, soft thighs.

“More?” He asks, careful.

Marc nods—open-mouthed, greedy—and drags him to hold his cock. Luca’s hands are calloused, bony, dry. Probably doesn’t feel that good, in retrospect. Marc bucks into his grip anyway, fucks into his slightly unsteady fist with abandon, like he’s bending a bad bike to take a tricky corner.

Luca bites into the soft insides of his cheek. Focus.

So he leaves a bite on Marc’s throat next. Mean, deep—it’s right there, after all. Presses down hard on the imprint of his teeth he left on the swell of Marc’s pec, on his nipple, on the knob of his hipbone. They’re growing dark already, a splotchy purple-red on gold, ugly, round lines.

He keens, jolts, legs falling open, hooked over Luca’s skinny knees. It’s like pressing on the keys of a baby grand at random, only to find out everything sounds fantastic. His cock twitches in his hand, leaks. Each slide is wetter and easier than the last.

Christ. Luca sucks in a breath, tucked against the corded muscle of Marc’s neck.

But Marc is allergic to breaks or something like that. Twists his head around and tugs him up by his hair. They’re looking at each other—which should technically be sobering, a cold wash of reality, but only makes Luca ache to press a kiss on the corner of his shiv-quick smile.

In a bit, maybe.

“You really are mean,” he says, winded, in this dangerous, wild delight.

Luca arches an eyebrow, immaculate through the hell press of Marc’s ass around his cock, how it rakes over him like an electric shock. “You asked me to.”

“People don’t usually—ah, shit, see—first fuck is usually a warm-up. Very polite.”

Luca debates for a split second, five lights and off they go, prying the words from the bottom of his throat. I actually get off on making people cry, just like that. Decides against it at Marc’s dark, cutting stare, his open-mouthed, shameless hunger. Too much like feeding a shark.

Makes himself grin, instead. “I’m very polite. You always say that.”

“Asshole,” he says—in Spanish. Putilla, like Luca doesn’t know what it means. And he laughs through it too, this ugly, honking laugh.

It’s not what you call someone doing a favor, sort of. Luca keeps smiling.

Squeezes Marc’s cock hard, drags his nails all the way to his flushed, wet head. Marc chokes on whatever noise he was making, scrambles to scratch him back, at his wrist, legs twitching to cover himself up on instinct.

He lets them fall limp, though. Stares wide-eyed, expectant. Challenging. Luca croons something sweet-sounding, backs off just a little. His grip is too tight, cruel, but more pleasure now, working him over in quick, rough twists of his palm.

Nothing about it is pretty, exactly—except Marc crumbling against him, Luca is at his strings. Except Marc whining, high-pitched and raw, when he shivers and comes with Luca running a nail over his slit and biting down on his nape.

Luca grunts, muffled through Marc tightening up around his cock, through the pound of blood in his ears.

It’s probably the funniest—most absurd—consequence of going to an engineer’s birthday party, he thinks, nerves in overdrive, about to giggle or moan or come, same fucking difference, heart drumming against his ribcage, thoughts hitting every corner.

Marc hisses out a thick noise, holds his arm. There’s no real strength behind it. Luca gets back on with what could be called his meanness, smears Marc’s come over his own dick. Jerks him only a fraction gentler than he was.

He isn’t crying, yet.

Not like he asked to, not like Luca wants to see.

But maybe soon, he thinks, perverse and not caring all that much about it, heat prickling under his skin, spit pooling over his tongue. Luca gives him a light nibble on his earlobe as a reward, more intent than actual pressure.

“More?” Luca breathes out, barely a whisper.

Marc—lashes wet, fluttering, almost there—nods.