#EPITAPHS FROM THE ABYSS no.4

[nfcomics]

EPITAPHS FROM THE ABYSS no.4 • cover art • Lee Bermejo [Oct 2024]

👻

#spooktacularreading

#epitaphsfromtheabyss

#leebermejo

#nightflightcomics

#comicbooks

#entertainingcomics

#terror

#nfcomics

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Hi everyone! I have a new Arthur x female!OC fic I've been working on that's posted up on Ao3, so I figured I would share it here as well. Please let me know what you think! This story is currently still on-going :)

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places. Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Chapter 1 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been

1890

Kate had never fancied herself a skilled woodworker. While she had lent a hand to her husband in constructing a barn, her role mostly entailed passing him tools and bringing him his lunch. But as she stood amidst the sawdust, tears streaking down her cheeks, she grappled with the daunting task ahead. She lacked both the sufficient wood and the patience to craft two coffins. Thus, the inevitable decision emerged: they would be laid to rest together.

The Reverend's suggestion to cremate the bodies, emphasizing the need to eradicate the disease completely, fell upon deaf ears. The mere thought of reducing her beloved husband and precious baby girl to ashes felt abhorrent to Kate. Instead, she harbored a tender hope that one day, perhaps, they would blossom into a magnificent Willow tree.

Amidst the melancholy chore, the vibrant symphony of birdsong provided a bittersweet backdrop, reminiscent of the lullabies she once crooned to her infant daughter. With a sorrowful melody humming in her heart, Kate toiled diligently, her hands blackened with grime, each wipe across her tear-stained cheeks a testament to her grief. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting their modest farm in a golden hue, Kate's work pressed on.

Night descended swiftly, cloaking the world in shadows that seemed to stretch for an eternity. Kate, perched upon her porch swing, found no solace in slumber. Her vigil was solemn, her gaze never wavering from the rough-hewn coffins that cradled her entire world within their confines.

With the break of dawn, the Reverend returned, his disapproval evident, yet tempered by resignation. Together, in a somber silence, they labored to fashion a final resting place. By mid-afternoon, the grave stood ready, a solemn abyss awaiting its occupants. With the Reverend's assistance, Kate tenderly lowered her cherished husband and daughter into the earth's cold embrace.

As dusk settled, the Reverend offered prayers and parting words before taking his leave. Left alone in her sorrow, Kate felt the weight of despair bearing down upon her. In a world forged by men and seemingly devoid of solace for a solitary widow, she found herself with no recourse but to depart.

Beneath the twilight sky, the epitaph etched upon their shared gravestone bore silent witness to her profound loss:

Here Lies My Beloved Noah, And Our Beautiful Daughter, Lorena.

May God Keep Their Souls.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

1899 

As the sun rose over the horizon, casting its golden rays across the sprawling expanse of Emerald Ranch, Kate found herself amidst the ebb and flow of another day's labor. Nine years had slipped by since the tragic loss of her husband and daughter, a span of time marked by wandering footsteps and the pursuit of odd jobs on her journey westward. 

She had once heard her father say they had family in California, he had many sisters but only kept in touch with one. Kate wrote to her after the death of her husband, seeking asylum with a relative with nowhere else to go. Her Aunt wrote her back and gave her condolences, she said Kate would be welcome with open arms. 

However, the last she heard of her Aunt was 7 years ago. But still, she continued west. She had come too far and been through too much to stop now. What she hoped to find in the valleys of California, she did not know anymore. Over the years she became more cowboy and less of a woman, her once soft hands now calloused by years of labor. The untamed plains and cold hard ground had become both her refuge and her bed. 

She came to Emerald Ranch only a week ago, her boss; Seamus, was reluctant to hire a stranger, let alone a woman, to help on the ranch. Kate assured him she was cheap labor and was only looking for shelter and a place to rest until she was on the move again. Kate was no stranger to odd jobs, she took any work she could get and saved as much as she could. But she was no criminal. 

She heard Seamus talking to two men as she filled the troughs with clean water. The gentlemen said they were new in town and looking for a partnership, one in which they could both make money. 

“Look I ain't no idiot, and I don't trust folks outta the blue. If you want to work together then you're gonna have to prove to me you’re worth my time.” Her boss's voice raised above the usual noise of the barn animals. 

“Of course! We’re only interested in a partnership, just looking to make a little extra money.” Carried the voice of an older gentleman. 

“No doubt. I do interesting very well. It's trusting that I don't do so well.” her boss answered, still not convinced by the two strangers.

“Look at us, we’re honest as the day is long,” said the other man with cheer. 

“You really want us to prove ourselves to this clown Hosea?” said the other voice, sounding much younger than his partner. 

Seamus scoffed, “good day to you, Hosea.” 

“N-now wait a minute Seamus. Arthur can be rough, and quick with his tongue, but I swear you can trust him, you can trust me.” Hosea pleaded, following Seamus to the side of the barn. Kate now had a clear view of the new “business partners”. 

Kate didn't know Seamus very well, but she could tell he was an honest enough man. Wise for his years, and liked to keep his nose out of trouble. “I’m an old man Hosea,” he began, “and you know why I ain’t dead yet?” 

“Because you don't trust idiots,” Hosea finished.

“Exactly.”

“We’re not idiots, Seamus. Let us prove it to you.” Hosea had an air of confidence, he wasn't some runaway bum looking to make a quick buck. He was serious about a partnership. Although Kate wouldn't say the same for his partner, who loomed behind them like a panther ready to pounce. 

“Okay��I’ll tell you what, old Bob Crawford and his boys just bought a beautiful stolen stagecoach from up north. It’s in their barn. Now you go get that,” he looked around for anyone who might be listening to his scheming, “then we can work together.” He said quietly, placing a hand on Hosea’s shoulder. 

“Who’s Old Bob Crawford?” inquired Hosea.

“An acquaintance of mine…well, not just an acquaintance. He’s my cousin, by marriage.” Seamus explained. 

“Oh so now we’re meddlin’ in your family business?” Arthur boasted with skepticism. 

Hosea waved him off and continued speaking, “Where is he located?”

“Now hang on a moment, you boys could very easily take this coach and sell it yourselves for a pretty penny,” Seamus began. 

“So you comin’ with us? I thought you didn't want to be involved in shady business?” Arthur spoke up again. 

“Heavens no, if my cousin saw me it would be my death. I'm sending someone with you, as collateral.” Seamus turned around and saw Kate already watching them, he waved her over. 

Arthur shook his head disapprovingly, “nah, I don't do babysitters Seamus.” 

Kate was just as skeptical about her part in this, she told Seamus she was looking for honest work, and robbing his cousin certainly falls out of that line. 

“She’s not babysitting . She’ll take you to my cousin's farm and let you do the robbing. Kate has been working for me for a few days now and she’s tougher than she looks.” Seamus said turning to Kate, “I want you to make sure that stage coach gets back to me. You don't need to take part in the robbery.” 

“You’re fine with them robbing your cousin?” She spoke in a hushed tone so only Seamus could hear.

“By marriage,” he added, “and yes, I would love it. The man’s been a thorn in my ass for years.” He said amused.

She nodded in acknowledgement and turned to get a good look at the two strangers. One was indeed much older than the other, with cropped white hair peeking out from under his hat. The other gentleman was tall and burly, and he hid his eyes under the brim of his hat. He seemed wary of strangers and kept both hands resting on his gun belt. 

“Let me get my horse saddled and I’ll meet you boys at the intersection leading out of town.” She spoke, Hosea nodded and was already making his way to his horse. Arthur stood for a moment eyeing the woman, no doubt playing the intimidation tactic. But Kate had seen far scarier men than him in her days. “Y'know the quicker we get this done the quicker you fellas get paid.” She noted.

Arthur scoffed and finally followed Hosea to his horse, “don't need no damn babysitter,” he grumbled kicking dust.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate made quick work of saddling her black Hungarian roan, she calls Lorena. After her infant daughter. In a moments pass she was on the dirt road leading out of Emerald Ranch and toward Carmody Dell. She waved for the two men to follow her, they stayed behind her a short distance and made no effort for small conversation.

However, she overheard snippets of their own conversation as they went, “I thought you wanted me to be the strong arm? That's usually how it goes,” Arthur spoke.

“Yes but..” Hosea hesitated, lowering his tone a little, “you know how this works.”

“Cmon Hosea that fellers a joke, he don't even trust us enough to handle it ourselves. Now we got a chaperone.” Arthur complained loudly, at least he’s not calling me a babysitter , Kate thought. 

“All the better, he won't cause us any problems. And I cant blame the guy for sending the girl. Two strangers looking for quick money? Hell, I’d want assurance too.” Hosea answered, “besides, if he’s sending protection that means there’s big money to be made. Seamus wants his cut.” 

Kate came to the same conclusion, up until now Seamus had given her the usual ranch-hand tasks. Feeding and cleaning mostly. This was very different, there must be good money for this stage coach. 

“I guess you’re right,” Arthur muttered.

Hosea mumbled something back to Arthur about “hanging up their hats” if they couldn't finish a job as easy as this. They laughed and began chatting about their travels in Emerald ranch, Kate tuned them out and began humming a song to her horse. 

Her singing always pleased her horse and calmed the girl’s nerves. She was a strong and fierce steed, but jumpy and needy like a baby sometimes. Kate thought naming her horse after her daughter would bring her closure, instead, she was almost convinced that her daughter's spirit lived on in Lorena somehow. In all ways except biological, her horse was her baby.

Carmody Dell was a short distance north past the train tracks and Fort Wallace, Kate had passed it once before. They rode at a steady pace, the men behind her never coming too close. She wondered for a moment what their story was, and why they needed money so bad. Perhaps they were travelers like her, maybe they even had a caravan. She entertained the thought of traveling with a group again, but shuddered at the memories. Her previous caravan adventures had not ended well. 

Once the ranch was in view she slowed and allowed the boys to catch up on either side of her. She led them to a grassy clearing off the road. 

“You should continue on foot from here, I’ll stay behind with your horses.” She said dismounting. The two of them nodded and dismounted their horses, Kate was almost surprised to hear no objections from Arthur. 

“C'mon son, let's see what we’re dealing with here.” Hosea commented walking towards a large rock in front of the house. 

“Son”, so they are family . She mentally noted. Arthur gave his horse a pat, “be a good girl for the lady” he said, tipping his hat towards Kate. She was slightly taken aback by the sudden politeness.

She busied herself with the horses for a bit while the men laid out their plan, she gave Hosea and Arthurs horse a treat and was about to start brushing his horse when he approached her again. Startled, she backed away from his mare, she didn't want him to think she was snooping in his saddle bags. 

“You can keep brushin’ her, she loves attention,” he half smiled reaching up and petting her snout. “I just came to tell ya’ we’re gonna wait till it gets dark. Less chance of getting caught that way.” 

“Smart,” she replied, for whatever reason she suddenly felt very shy in his presence. 

He stood a few feet away from her and she could see more of his features. He was around her age. He had short dirty blond hair under his leather hat, and bright blue/green eyes. Her eyes lingered over his body. He was big too, more than a foot taller than her and well fed and muscular. His bicep had to be the size of her head alone, and she could tell by the fabric of his button down he had a bit of a belly hidden behind his gun belt. 

“What’s her name?” His voice broke through her awkward silence. 

“Who?” She asked and looked back at him. 

He chortled, “the black beauty you got over there,” he nodded to her horse. 

Oh, duh! “Her name is Lorena, she also loves attention but she’s nervous around new people.” Kate answered, still a bit lost in her thoughts. 

Arthur made a clicking sound with his tongue, reaching out a hand and slowly walking toward her horse. “It’s alright girl,” he cooed while she sniffed his palm. He pulled out a peppermint and gave it to her, which Lorena happily accepted. 

Kate smiled at the interaction, “you introduce yourself to my horse before me?” she teased. 

“My apologies ma’am,” he turned to face her, “names Arthur Morgan.”

“Nice to meet you Mr. Morgan, I’m Kate McCanon.” She reached out her hand and he shook it. His grip was firm but polite. 

“Likewise, Miss.McCanon. That’s Belle your brushin’, and that’s Silver Dollar.” He pointed at Hosea’s horse. “I saw this beauty when we first rode into Emerald ranch, had no idea she was yours tho.” He was talking about her horse again, “told myself I’d inquire about buying her if she was available.” 

Kate smiled at the affection he was showing for her horse, she knew Lorena was a beautiful mare. She often received compliments on the road, and many have offered to pay for her purebred. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but she’s not for sale.” 

“Well I can certainly see that,” he laughed, “she seems happy though. You must take real good care of her.” He said, his attention still on her mare as he scratched under her chin. 

“You some kind of horse breeder Mr. Morgan?” Kate asked. 

Arthur laughed, “no no. Nothing like that, though sometimes I wish I was.” He smiled as he said it but Kate noticed there was a sadness in his tone. “I just think they’re neat is all.” 

They had only just met, and while Arthur was not initially the most pleasant, she found it incredibly cute how enraptured he was by her horse. 

“I should probably also apologize for my rudeness earlier, it’s been a rough couple weeks for us and we uh- don’t always take too kindly to strangers.” Arthur took off his hat as he spoke and held it to his chest, a sincere gesture. 

Kate was shocked, the man she met at Emerald ranch not even an hour ago seemed like a completely different person than the man before her. His cold demeanor was gone, or at least reined in at the moment. 

“No apology needed Mr. Morgan. I understand,” She answered. “Although I wouldn’t call it rude, you were just skeptical. Rightfully so, can I ask what brings you to Emerald Ranch?” 

Arthur looked away from her as he spoke, choosing to focus on her horse. “We’re just stayin’ in the area for a few weeks. Passin’ through and tryna make money.” 

“By robbing stagecoaches?” Kate said in an amused tone, “you a bunch of outlaws or something?” She continued, half-joking. 

Arthur looked at her with surprise, “What? No, we uh- got laid off from the railway. Up-north. Just looking for money so we can find a place to settle down again. That’s all.” He looked away again, avoiding her gaze. 

“I’ll say it again, by robbing stagecoaches?” She kept her tone playful, but wasn’t entirely convinced by his story. But it felt good to be the intimidator.

“Wasn’t our idea, Seamus asked us to rob his cousin!” His voice rose slightly with anger. 

“By marriage,” Kate retorted. 

Arthur was about to speak again but only stared at her. 

“I’m just pulling your leg Mr. Morgan.” Kate laughed. “It’s no business of mine. I’m only passing through here, same as you. What you do here and how you earn your money is your business. As is mine.” 

Arthur scoffed, suddenly amused, did this woman just tease me?

He went to speak again before another voice interrupted them, “Arthur! Get over here!” Called Hosea. He pointed a finger at Kate as to say this isn’t over and walked away. 

Amused with herself, Kate grabbed an apple and sat down against a tree. Watching the sun set as she waited for the cover of night so the two men could pull off their heist. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate woke suddenly to the sound of horses moving. She quickly got up and looked in the direction of the ranch. Sure enough the stage coach was steadily moving down the path away from its place in the barn. She quickly mounted her horse and trotted over to them. 

“Nice work! Follow me back to Emerald Ranch and try to keep it in one piece.” She called up to Hosea who was driving the coach. With that she clicked her tongue and took off ahead of the coach at a steady but quick pace. Not wanting to get themselves caught. 

Before Hosea could crack the reins he looked to Arthur as he was about to get in the coach, “you ride ahead with her. I got this.” 

Arthur looked confused, “why wouldn’t I ride with you? The horses will follow.” 

Now Hosea was giving him an amused look, “I heard you with her earlier.” 

“And?” The cowboy replied slightly annoyed. 

“You’ve never fumbled our cover story so bad!” He quipped, “it was like listening to a child tell it!” 

Arthur shook his head, “now you’re playin’ match maker old man?” He teased, trying to hide his smile.   

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t kill you to go talk to her son."

Without another word Arthur nodded and dismounted the coach, getting into the saddle and riding off to catch up to Kate.

[johnwickb1tsch]

you’re the worst thing (i’m addicted to)

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here...

Part 1.

“Hey, Hels.”

There is no answer, only the warbling of a bird in a distant tree. The day is bright and blue, spring has come again in all her glory. It doesn’t seem right, somehow, that the sun should still shine, and the birds should still sing.

Because she is gone.

It’s been two years, but you still haven’t really wrapped your head around it.

You still have your last text message thread with her in your phone. It’s as though you could just punch a few buttons and still talk to her. Always, she would answer you, no matter what she was doing. Sometimes you want to type in I miss you and hit send, just to see what might happen.

But then, maybe it is appropriate, that today should be such a beautiful day. On this day, forty-two years ago, your sister was born. Roughly ten years later, you followed. As a direct result, your mother died of complications in childbirth.

Your father still blamed you, but Helen never did.

In a way, Helen was your mother, more than the woman who bore you.

It makes it all hurt so much more.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

You look down at the stone, this massive granite behemoth. You find it rather ugly, to be honest, but it will certainly stand the test of time, nuclear war notwithstanding. Loving Wife, reads the epitaph below.

You know it was true.

You know that perhaps John Wick is the only person Helen loved more than you. But the inscription still seems too brief. Short changing her, somehow. 

But then, John paid for the stone, so you suppose he got to pick what it said. 

You were ensuring her memory lived on in other ways. 

“I finally did as you asked,” you tell her. “I’ve used the photos you left me in a painting. We're going to be in a show together. I wish you were here to see it.”

There is a mean part of you that suspects your submission was only accepted because it contained work from the late, great, photographer Helen Morgan-Wick, but you shove that down into the seething pit with all the rest of your fears and doubts. You didn't use them for the attention. You did it to feel close to her, and because she asked you to. One final art project, the note had said. She knew you too well, knew that the only thing that kept you from toeing the line of the abyss was a good artistic obsession.

You knew she’d planned to leave a project for John too. A puppy, she’d said. You’d shared a laugh over it, through tears, the last time you’d been together. You never found out how that had gone. John hadn’t attended a family gathering since Helen passed.

Too painful.

You didn’t blame him one bit. 

“I miss you, Hels. I feel so lost without you.”

“Amen.”

The sound of another voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You turn to find him, in one of his signature tailored black suits, looking unfairly scrumptious despite the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't made a sound in his approach. He never did. The man moved like a ghost and looked like a dark dream. You'd always found him insanely attractive.

You'd never done anything about that, of course. But goddamn, you had eyes.

“Hi, John.”

“Hello, y/n.”

You’ve never run into him at the gravesite before, though you have seen the wilted offerings of daisies left by the stone, and you always had assumed they’d come from him. You haven’t seen him since Helen’s funeral. He hasn’t changed much, really, though there is a sharpness to his aspect you’d never noticed when Helen was alive. An edge to his gaze; how can eyes so dark convey so much? Despite yourself, it sends a little thrill down your spine that you absolutely know you should not revel in.  

Maybe you haven’t seen him in person after Helen passed, but you’ve gazed at him plenty through Helen’s lens. There had been so many photographs of him in the collection of prints she’d left you. Nothing risqué, but the way he’d looked at her even through the camera had been nothing less than intimate.

There were times, late at night in your studio, when you’d pretended he’d been looking at you that way.

“How…have you been?” 

He offers a grim shadow of a smile and a shake of his head that you understand all too well. 

“Nice to be with someone you don't have to pretend with.”

“Yeah.”

You both stare down at the grave, meditating on your loss of this woman who touched you both so completely.

“Do you think she can hear us?” you ask, unable to lift your voice above a whisper.

There is a long pause from her widower, the man she left behind.

“Not really.” He lifts his face to the sun, eyes closed, as though maybe he can feel something of her presence. “But you should talk to her anyway. I might be wrong.”

You smile at that.

“Do you ever talk to her?”

“All the time,” he admits with a huff of self-deprecating laughter. “But then, I might just be losing my mind.”

“Ah well. That makes two of us then.”

You gently lay down the bouquet of Gerber daisies you'd brought for her. Helen’s favorite. If you ever have a garden, you will plant some for her. As it is, you have to buy them from the store. You remember the patch of daisies she’d cultivated in the garden of your childhood home. Their cheerful faces and soft petals. They had been your mother’s favorite too. When you were a girl Helen would sing to you and braid them in your thick hair. You couldn’t know at the time, how precious those perfect days had been.

The wave of sorrow hits you like a freight train, the weight of your loss a crushing force. You start to cry, hiding your face in your hands; you would prefer to do this alone, but you cannot stop it.

You feel an arm about your shoulders. It surprises you—John was never a touchy-feely man, never one for hugs, always preferring a wave or a handshake. Only for Helen, did he ever display any sort of affection. They had always been touching, holding hands or sitting hip to hip on the couch, his strong arm slung protectively around her shoulders. You didn’t want to say you’d been envious of that, but…perhaps you’d wondered, what it might be like, to be so cherished.

When he pulls you against him you only manage some token resistance. “I’ll mess up your suit.” You sound pitiful, even to you.

“I have an excellent dry cleaner.”

His dry wit had always amused you. This time, it breaks you, and you give in. He is solid as an oak, and as it turns out, his chest is an excellent place to cry on. Under the shelter of his chin you wring yourself dry, until it feels like you have nothing left inside you. His large hand rests lightly upon the back of your head, shielding you from the world. He is warm, and his cologne is subtle but heavenly. Sandalwood, maybe, and something spiced. Cardamom, perhaps. A hint of pepper.

You don’t particularly want to move, even though you absolutely should. Yet his hold on you has not loosened, and you tell yourself that maybe John Wick needed a hug just as badly as you did.

“People keep telling me that it gets easier, and I just want to punch them in the face,” you sniffle.

A huff of laughter escapes him. You feel it stir your hair on the top of your head. “Yeah. I get that.”

Finally you pull back, though not as far as you should. You’ve never actually been this close to him before, and you look at each other from a foot away. Sometimes proximity can shatter the illusion of someone’s attractiveness—but not this man. The impossible angle of his cheekbones, the soft scruff of his beard…is it just you, or does the edge in his gaze soften a little, when he looks at you? It makes your legs a little weak, and you kind of hate yourself for it.

It has nothing to do with you, stupid, you tell yourself. Where you and Helen weren’t exactly twins, you did resemble each other strongly. In profile, you’d been mistaken for her in public plenty of times before. If anything, it was probably unnerving for this poor man who missed his wife so much, to hold you, a sorry facsimile, in his arms. Out of pity, most likely.  

Helen had been the good sister. The upstanding one, the kind one. You? You can be such a twisted little thing.

“Sorry,” you sigh, noticing the smudge of makeup on his lapel.

He doesn’t even glance down, that intense gaze still fixed upon you. “Don’t be.”

Unbidden heat blooms from your cheeks to your toes, finding yourself the subject of that gaze. You’ve got to go, before you really embarrass yourself.

“I'll leave you alone. It was nice to see you, John.”

You turn to go, hugging yourself against the early spring chill. Why did you have to feel so bereft, without his arms around you? You take a few steps before he calls after you, “Y/n?”

You freeze in your tracks, a thrill jetting down your spine. “Yeah?” you dare, turning to half look over your shoulder.

“I…was thinking about going to Helen’s favorite restaurant tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Your heart beats double time in your chest, as you slowly turn to face him. You should say no. There’s a thousand reasons you should say no. This was your sister’s husband. It doesn’t matter that he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and that he’s been kind to you, and that he’s looking at you like he might drown if you say no.

“I would like that,” you answer, and your heartbeat thundering in your ears sounds like the hammering of nails into your own coffin.

Part 2

[dustinweaver]

Look. It's my Epitaphs From The Abyss #4 frontispiece!

[brokehorrorfan]

EC Comics, the influential horror comic company that gave us Tales from the Crypt and more, has been resurrected by Oni Press. Broke Horror Fan has an exclusive first look at the covers for Cruel Universe #3 and Epitaphs from the Abyss #4.

Cruel Universe #3 features work from Cullen Bunn (The Sixth Gun) and Davíd Rubín (Sherlock Frankenstein), J. Holtham (The Handmaid’s Tale) and Kano (Gotham Central), and Zac Thompson (Cemetery Kids Don’t Die) and Dan McDaid (If You Find This).

It will be published on October 2 with five cover variants: Cover A by Greg Smallwood, Cover B Dave Johnson, EC Homage variant (1:10) by Jay Stephens, Artist Edition variant (1:20) by Johnson, and Archive Edition variant (1:50) by Rian Hughes.

Epitaphs from the Abyss #4 features work from J. Holtham (The Horizon Experiment) and Raúl Allén (Dune), Amy Roy (The Lonely Store) and Claire Roe (Dark Spaces: The Hollywood Special), and Jay Stephens (Dwellings) and David Lapham (Stray Bullets).

It will be published on October 16 with five cover variants: Cover A by Lee Bermejo, Cover B James Stokoe, EC Homage variant (1:10) by Jay Stephens, Artist Edition variant (1:20) by Stokoe, and Archive Edition variant (1:50) by Rian Hughes.

Read on to see the rest of the cover variants and learn more about each title.

The world's most existentially devastating comic magazine plumbs new depths as Cruel Universe #3 begins a manned expedition to the extremes of human existence and imagine the terrifying possibilities of what to expect when the best of intentions meet the cold, hard reality of our worst instincts. The world and everything you hold dear within it may be doomed to the cold touch of entropy... but at least you can keep this comic as a souvenir!

Every tombstone tells a tells a tale in Epitaphs from the Abyss #4 – the next unrelenting issue of EC’s flagship horror title! Fueled by the vengeful spirit of the legendary EC Comics, we proudly present all-new tales of the macabre and merciless from some of the top talents with a penchant for dragging you down to the bottom stair of despair!

[ultrameganicolaokay]

Epitaphs from the Abyss #4 by Jay Stephens, Amy Roy, J. Hotham, David Lapham, Claire Roe, Raúl Allén and more. Cover by Lee Bermejo. Variant covers by (2) James Stokoe and (3) Stephens. Out in October.

"IF EVERY TOMBSTONE TELLS A TALE... YOU'RE IN LUCK, BECAUSE THIS GRAVEYARD IS FULL OF THEM! You know the drill, comic guys and gals... so let's VROOM, VROOM! Fueled by the vengeful spirit of the legendary EC Comics, we proudly present all-new tales of the macabre and merciless from some of the top talents with a penchant for dragging you down to the bottom stair of despair! This month: Live hard, die fast creators J. Holtham and Raúl Allén, Amy Roy and Claire Roe, and Jay Stephens and David Lapham welcome you in the cold grasp of the ABYSS—there's no need to RSVP, and time shares are available!"

[allflooby]

Comics from Arcane for the week of December 18, 2024: Savage Sword of Conan 6, Milestone Universe: The Shadow Cabinet 2, Jonny Quest 5, Jenny Sparks 5, Green Lantern/Green Arrow World's Finest Special 1, Resurgence of the Valiant Universe 4, Epitaphs from the Abyss 6, The New Gods 1, The Rocketfellers 2, Star Trek Lower Decks 2, The Wrong Earth Dead Ringers 5, From the World of Minor Threats: Barfly 4, Dark Knights of Steel Allwinter 6, Daredevil 16, Black Hammer: Spiral City 2, Shadowman Soul Eaters 3, Action Comics 1080, Titans 18, Wonder Woman 16, Absolute Batman 3, The Question: All Along the Watchtower 2, Nightwing 121, and Nexus Scourge 1. Huge week. Seems like just about every DC title I get came in all at once.

[dirtyriver]

Epitaphs from the Abyss #4, cover by Lee Bermejo

[beehiveofblorbos]

finished the Natlan 5.1 AQ (The Rainbow Destined to Burn) a couple days ago… and a few primary notes

Rest in peace, Chuychu. You met your fate honorably, and your sacrifice made the Ode of Resurrection possible. You were always my favorite character of the Natlan AQ (I even have a post loaded up in my drafts about it that I never got to posting) and it is in your honor that I will pull Chasca. 😭😭😭 poor Chuychu… I was so excited to see you again…

Also, this solidified it. I’m gonna keep a separate world where I only do the AQ up through Inazuma, just so I can free them. Then… I’ll preserve Chuychu, Rukkhadevata, the Nahida I loved, and so many others. I’ll preserve the world I loved so much. I’m sorry, Natlan. I’m sorry, Furina. I’m sorry, Nahida. But I loved that world so much.

Ah, and I loved how they did the war!!! Now THIS is how you handle the chaos, the catastrophe of the war. Finally, I really appreciate Natlan’s landscape design. Imagine if Natlan had been a less playful, more centralized nation: the seriousness of the war and the Abyssal corruption wouldn’t have been so striking in, say, Inazuma, or even the empty expanses of mountainous forest and arid desert within Sumeru. (That said uh we should’ve been warned about this quest being exceptionally long I had not planned to sit and game for 4 hours straight.)

Of the six heroes, Ororon is a surprise favorite. Originally I wanted the Masters of the Night-Wind Hero to be Citlali, since she’s so pretty, but I’m ultimately really glad it’s Ororon. I always liked his voice, but didn’t really fall in love with his personality til halfway through the quest. I loved the scene where he met the ancient hero who originated their Ancient Name, “Bidii”. It reads similar to the Arabic for “to want”, too, which surprised me, but makes its meaning of “devotion” even more heartfelt. In particular, I love how Ororon is a fairly unique case of Natlan’s relentless reinforcement of the idea that every person in Natlan wants to be a hero, deep down. He tried to accept a humble life like everyone told him to, but at the end of the day, his story was meant for more and wasn’t meant to end yet. He should be friends with Kachina, I think, they’d be great.

Ah, and I LOVED everything about Xilonen’s Ancient Name. The bestowing of “Barakah”, the bearer of an ancient blessing… how satisfying and lovely. And on top of that, the scene where Chasca received her understanding of what it meant to be one of the six, the hero hailing from the Flower-Feather Clan? Ah! Joy upon joy.

I think I feel fairly certain now of where Mavuika will fall on my list of Archon favorites. She’s a perfect sun - a trueborn leader who has sacrificed time and time again and knows exactly how to use those at her disposal to lead her team to victory. She knows how to give purpose to their mission, and she’s fully committed. She cares for all the people of Natlan, and she mourns every loss. Yet she’s still capable of understanding what’s worth a sacrifice, and what isn’t.

She’s a sun, and my favorite celestial body has long been the moon, not the sun. Mavuika is a bit too distant, a bit too flawless, to ever be a blorbo of mine. I respect her deeply and I do like her, but she will not be reaching even the heights that Nahida achieved during her own AQ. That said, I also reached somewhat of a resolution on Nahida’s “death of memory” from 3.2’s AQ. I finally was able to accept that… she’s not really a favorite anymore, she doesn’t spark the same joy as she did during that AQ, and that her sacrifice of her memory of Rukkhadevata did cut out a lot of what shot her so high for me. So, Mavuika’s right in the middle, a bit behind or on par with Nahida, who is no longer in my top 10 Genshin characters.

Mavuika actually reminds me a lot of what I expected to feel when witnessing Morax. Yknow how all the playables have a little epitaph, like “Endless Solo of Solitude” Furina? I’m excited for Mavuika. Something with history, something with the sun. She’s a living piece of history, after all, and holds the position of the sun itself. She should be the god of history imo considering all she’s sacrificed to protect it and from where she came.

I was shocked to learn that Xilonen will definitely be dead by the end of the quest, once she’s forged the Traveller’s Ancient Name. What a cruel order Mavuika had to give, and she did not even do so in person; she sent the Traveller to do it. But I’m also confused. How has Xilonen previously forged Ancient Names, if to do so requires the sacrifice of a life? And why forge an Ancient Name for the Traveller, sacrificing Xilonen in the process, if it’s only wanted so Mavuika can survive her encounter with the Abyss?

I’m sure Mavuika herself will survive the Archon Quest in the end. With all Citlali’s talk of altering her fate, I’m sure Citlali will succeed.

I’m intrigued by this concept of the difference between fate and death being that death is “a rule”, or a law, something that must be followed/obeyed, whereas fate is a description of the process. Another indicator Zhongli will be back in the end, as the God of Contracts (with the death of the God of Law and Justice, Focalors).

Did we know that the Abyssal Royal was once a Royal figure of Khaenri’ah, by the way? What even is going on. Are Khaenri’ah and the Abyss the same, or not? Has Khaenri’ah effectively been eaten/subsumed by the Abyss? Is that the fate that awaits Natlan in the (impossible) event that it loses the war against the Abyss? Is that why every figure we’ve seen come in contact with the Abyss is twisted? Will we the Traveller need to rescue+purify the Abyssal Royal from/of the Abyss?

Can Khaenri’ah still be saved, even now?

(The GLIMPSE WE GOT AT THE FALSE SKY OH MY GOD)

(CONFIRMATION OF WHAT THE SEELIES ONCE WERE OMGGGG)

[smashpages]

Epitaphs from the Abyss #4 (Oni Press/EC Comics, October 2024) cover by Lee Bermejo

[comicbookclub]

Oni Press Reveals EC Comics Lineup For November

Oni Press has revealed the lineup of creators for EC Comics November titles Epitaphs from the Abyss #5 and Cruel Universe #4.

[comicbookclublive]

Oni Press Reveals EC Comics Lineup For November

Oni Press has revealed the lineup of creators for EC Comics November titles Epitaphs from the Abyss #5 and Cruel Universe #4.

[graphicpolicy]

Terror, Torment and Extraterrestrial Invasion! EC Comics' return continues with Epitaphs From the Abyss #5 and Cruel Universe #4 in November

Terror, Torment and Extraterrestrial Invasion! EC Comics' return continues with Epitaphs From the Abyss #5 and Cruel Universe #4 in November #comics #comicbooks

[brutalgamer]

Here's the first chilling looks at October's Epitaphs From the Abyss #4 and Cruel Universe #3

Oni Press has a pair of EC Comics spine-tinglers on tap for spooky season, as the horror imprint’s return rolls on.

[kazooblog]

Metas 2018

Eu estava querendo fazer isso já um bom tempo . . . Só pra me organizar mesmo e não me perder.

Agora finalmente farei \o/~

O que acontece . . . 

Vou por aqui coisas que já cumpri TAMBÉM pra não me perder. 

O que sobrar eu completo no ano que vem (ou tento)

Isso aqui é mais pessoal . . . Como falei, vou postar o que me der na telha por aqui . . . Fica ao seu critério ler TUDO ou não HUAHDSIU

Fiz essa lista de metas baseada na lista da minha gostosa da Yu

A dona do canal Bela Drops (a lista dela se encontra aqui)

Essa lista foi feita inicialmente em 2016 mas decidi ignorar a de 2016 e refazer/postar ela agora em 2017.

Ano que vem farei o mesmo, inicio do ano a lista e no final do ano deixo ela publica pra ver minhas realizações.

Então vamos para minhas metas~

Assistir pelo menos 5 animes/cartoons/series inteiros

[Erased]

[13 reasons why season 2]

[Noragami]

[Made in Abyss]

[Gokinjo Monogatari]

++BONUS++ [Jinrui wa Suitai Shimashita] [Honobono Log]

Zerar pelo menos 10 jogos (contem replays)

[Yume nikki - Dream Diary]

[Mystic Messenger (Saeran route)]

[The gray garden]

[Wadanohara]

[Close your eyes]

[Hansel]

[Gray Garden The] 

[Lisa the painful]

[.hack//G.U Last Recode]

[At home alone]

Ler pelo menos 5 livros/mangás inteiros

[Bastard]

[Kare wa Tomodachi]

[Made in Abyss]

[Emergence - Metamorphosis]

[Noragami]

Pessoal

-Conseguir os foil cards que faltam de Bastion na Steam

-Conseguir os foil cards que faltam de .hack na Steam -Yoga

-Microagulhamento quinzenal

-Me livrar(ou diminuir) da Dermatillomania

-Conseguir terminar a rota do Seven toda em coreano ENTENDENDO

Profissional

-Concluir pelo menos 5 itens da aba de projetos do meu site

[Death Service(pilot)]

[Weather child]

[Zombie Alive]

[From far beyond]

[]

-Passar em algum dos concursos/testes/whatever que faço anualmente

Youtube/Stream

-Ledglitch -Documentário de 30 mins sobre talco -Começar a fazer gameplay de @linklandia​​ -Covers de kazoo

-Q com mascara de Q

-Começar meu canal de treino de ingles

-Começar a streamar na twitch just for fun

-Usar picarto.tv

-Memestaurante

-There’s a Human on underground

--O que é mystic messenger

MMD

-Big Girl Cry

-Link Hylian

-Arakawa OP Maria/Junko

-Chandelier

-Cheap Thrills

-I’m poppy

Cosplay

-Photoshoot dos cosplays prontos

-Terminar cosplay de Stocking

-Terminar cosplay Atoli

-Terminar cosplay 707

-Terminar cosplay Chara

-Terminar cosplay de Junko

-Terminar cosplay de Yokoi

-Terminar cosplay de Ladybug

-Terminar cosplay de Miwako

-Terminar cosplay de Alice Elliot

-Terminar cosplay de Misuzu

-Terminar cosplay de Star

Compras

(Essa está sujeita a se estender até ano que vem dependendo das condições :’D)

-Caixa do Mystic Messenger (mint eye)

-Dakimakura 707 [oficial] - [não oficial1] - [não oficial2]

-Coleção de almofadas Mystic Messenger

-Blusa 707

-Mouse pad Mystic messenger

-um computador novo

-Pin Mystic messenger

-Apperture Mug e Tardis mug

-Reader tears mug

- Wireless headphone

-Patins

-Copia fisica de Epitaph of Twllight

-Copia fisica de Yume Nikki

-Livro de SVTFOE

-Livro Gravity Falls

-Mic. USB Condensador

-Coleção nova de Ankhs

-Pistola RAMBO espoleta

-kindle

-Fundo infinito

-GUM15

-Copic Markers

-Tablet nova 

-Mesa de PC nova

-Cadeira

-Gaveteiro

-Note

-Kit luzes

-AirFryer

-Alien real

-Baby Alien

-fone

-Necomimi

-trofeu

-Kirb

-Gorillaz collection

-SAI

-Playstation 4

-Dakimakura

[707 oficial] - [707 maid] - [707 deitado]

[Atoli]

[Naoto]

[Wheatley]

[Haseo]

[Masada]

[Yato]

[Komaeda] - [Komaeda servant]

[Silvio Santos]

[Kurt]

[InuYasha]

[Zen oficial] - [Jumin oficial] - [Saeran oficial]

-Kigurumi

[Pikachu]

[Totoro]

[Monokuma]

[Chii]

[Psyduck]

[Stitch]

[Ornitorrinco]

[Dinossauro]

[Tubarão]

[Panda]

-Jogos

[.hack//G.U]

[Okami]

[Lisa]

[Final Fantasy XV]

[Danganronpa 1 & 2]

[Danganronpa Another episode]

[Danganronpa V3]

[Nier:Automata]

[Ooblets]

[Yume nikki - Dream Diary]

[allflooby]

Comics from Arcane for the week of January 22, 2025: Superman 22, Metamorpho the Element Man 2, Wonder Woman 17, Black Hammer: Spiral City 3, Epitaphs from the Abyss 7, Green Arrow 20, Absolute Wonder Woman 4, Black Canary: Best of the Best 3, The Powerpuff Girls 7, Scarlet Witch 8, Resurgence of the Valiant Universe Finale, The Uncanny X-Men 9, and Limited Collector's Edition c-48 facsimile edition.