#Like some sort of frankenstein's monster

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Halloween and Wei Wuxian day!

[totally-not-an-awkward-okapi]

Look man I just think it’s a shame that Lon Chaney Jr’s horror film debut usually gets cut from the roster.

[spectre-ship]

hot frankenstein, 1823

via @victorianmasc on twitter (do check her out!)

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Ok I see the beautiful interpretation in the reblogs but I’m just. The shitpost brain rot.

Ghost being the monster that Price creates in the process of trying to make just a better human being. Ghost not being quite like a child, still carrying over trauma from his original life (the body was all sorts of burnt up, so nobody would notice if Price took the brain, right?).

Price getting completely caught off guard when Ghost starts cussing and howling at the sight of him lighting an oil lamp. Price hiding Ghost instead of running him out because of that single reaction to a bloody match, and the choked apologies that kept spilling from his creation’s lips for being so loud and scared.

…. Ghost and Price talking about the annoying as fuck (soon-to-be-ex-) wife that Price has got.

Ghost: “You know, you don’t have to divorce her. I could just kill her-“

Price: “Simon, I don’t care if you can fit your whole hand around her bloody neck, do not strangle my bloody wife!”

Ghost: “Oh, I suppose we’ll both have to deal with her bloody nagging for the rest of our lives? Is that what you brought me back to life, for? To suffer this bitch with you?”

Price:

Ghost: “…. You absolute knob-“

uhhhh

GhostPrice but make it Victor Frankenstein and his monster

[strangestcase]

👿 bogey-boogey Follow

I dont have any respect for science based “monsters” ngl. “Oh I’m a Frankenstein’s monster” shut UPPPPP you’re malpractice that’s what you are “Oh I’m a Hyde monster” YOURE A HUMAN ON METH !!!!

🔩 voltagehottie Follow

Right, because you need to be borne of an ancient curse or some sort of undead to strike fear into regular humans. Hmmmm it’s almost as if the word monster refers to many categories of people and not just magical creatures?

👿 bogey-boogey Follow

I like how you say “regular humans” because you know you’re a human built in a lab.

🧑‍🔬 drfagandmrdyke Follow

🫵 Smyrkes 14 in bio

🦧 ruemorguez Follow

Hey isn’t OP the guy that writes omegaverse Harry Potter AU Dracula x Cthulhu RPF on AO13

🧑‍🔬 drfagandmrdyke Follow

Wgat

[thanergetic-hyperlinks]

Tamsyn Muir's writing beyond The Locked Tomb

Y'all, turns out there's lots of imagery and themes in TLT that Muir was already playing with in her earlier fiction. A lot of it is easily available online, in which case I'll link to it. (The short stories that aren't can also be easily read if googled, to be quite honest—that's how I read The Deepwater Bride and Why the Mermaids Left Boralus). • The House That Made the Sixteen Loops of Time (2011)

5K. Short sort-of-cozy romance (?) with (you guessed it) a time travel loop. Explores a very queer potential relationship. CamPal enjoyers might find a similar sweetness.

• The Magician's Apprentice (2012, Lightspeed Magazine)

5K. This is the one that stopped me dead on my tracks. It features an older, male mentor figure called John (a “very ordinary man” with “dark eyes”) who introduces the young, female main character to magic that has a terrible cost—and to literature such as Lolita. This excellent post by @familyabolisher does an incredible job of analyzing the very deliberate intertextual links between TLT and Lolita.

• The Woman in the Hill (2015, Lightspeed Magazine, originally for Dreams From the Witch House anthology of Lovecraftian horror by women)

4K. Possibly my favorite! It's a straightforward Lovecraftian horror, centered on the image of the woman (is it human though?) trapped in an unnatural pool inside a cursed cave. Chain imagery too. It does something different from Alecto, mind, but you can see links, ways of playing with facets of a strong central image. It's fun to consider how reliable the two narrators are. Here's an analysis and afterthought from Reactor Mag.

• Chew (2013) 4K. Zombie abuse and cannibalistic revenge story ft. an uncanny woman revenant, told from the eyes of a traumatized German boy. I was strongly reminded of Harrow's conversations with the Body. Tamsyn gave an interview on the themes and her intentions. Interesting to read in light of Alecto, I think, although I don't think she's going the same route in TLT: “the idea of post-war rebuilding connecting to rebuilding the body of the zombie; a Frankenstein who once rebuilt doesn’t act as planned or desired. […] I love cannibalism […] it’s innately spiritual […] any afterlife she goes to, he’s going too.”

• Apothecia (2014, published on Tumblr and tapas.io)

Short webcomic where an alien monster tries to corrupt the ruthless human girl who holds it captive. Musings on responsibility and murder, mention of child abuse. The alien's speech patterns remind me of a Resurrection Beast. You get wonderful dialogue like “Murder is a profession. Job. Employment, you tiny leg dog. There you are, walking along. Walk walk walk. Now you are a walker. Good job. Special child. Murder is like this.” Art by Shelby Cragg.

• The Deepwater Bride (2015, Fantasy & Science Fiction Magazine)

The opening line is: “In the time of our crawling Night Lord's ascendancy, foretold by exodus of starlight into his sucking astral wounds, I turned sixteen and received Barbie's Dream Car.” Need I say more? Extremely fun. A novelette where a young queer girl from a clairvoyant family struggles with an apocalyptic event while being annoyed by another very plucky girl. Lots of descriptions with nerdy marine zoology terms. Close in tone to Gideon. In the background, someone dies EXACTLY like that one death at the end of Gideon, which makes me wonder what happened to make Tamsyn interested in this particular image. I also liked that Tamsyn is aware of Nightwish. No link, but you'll get a PDF immediately if you Google.

• Union (2015, Clarkesworld Magazine)

5.5K. Very weird, extremely Kiwi story about a town that gets sent lab-grown wives by the government, but they're not made the usual way so they're Weird and people have feelings about it. Fascinating and eerie description of non-human (in some people's eyes, sub-human) women (?) who cannot be observed to have recognizable feelings or thoughts, yet have some sort of inner life. Quite touching, very uncanny.

• Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower (2020)

Short novel (~200 pages). Very funny. I was reminded of Coronabeth because the whole plot is “princess finds herself branching out into decidedly non-princess-like activities”, but other than that—this is a fairytale for adults about people who make eachother worse. No particular links to TLT but a very fun read with some gut punches. Extremely Tamsyn through and through, what with the dubious morality and all.

• Why the Mermaids Left Boralus (2021, in Folk & Fairy Tales of Azeroth by Blizzard Entertainment)

Set in the World of Warcraft universe. Haven't read this one yet, will report back lmao. As with The Deepwater Bride, no link but I easily found a PDF of the entire compilation. It's illustrated!

• Undercover (2022, from Into Shadow, Amazon Original Collection)

Haven't read it either. Will edit once I do.

[sightseertrespasser]

This was fun last time so I’m going to do it again

What are some detail(s) in your fics that nobody has noticed yet or that you want to draw attention to?

If there aren’t any, what are some headcannons you have? (Could be apocalyptic ponyo or mecha au)

Have a good day!!

Ooo thank you!

Some side details for Apocalyptic Ponyo:

- Blurr doesn’t really know shit about animals and he knows he doesn’t know, which is 90% of the reason he hasn’t realized Swerve is fully sentient yet. Every time he sees Swerve do something smart it falls under the blanket of “This is weird but I don’t know enough to question it.”

- Swerve meanwhile has definitely come around to treating Blurr as effectively sentient, but doesn’t realize mers as a species are sentient. As far as he’s aware, Blue is an outlier and a magic fish man.

- There’s a reason why:

a) They haven’t seen any other survivors (minus the kids).

b) They haven’t seen any more bodies since the first night.

It is two different reasons. It will come up in a later installment.

- Spam is a very popular food around the pacific isles! I don’t have a real life location in mind but I generally think of the island the story takes place on as somewhere between New Zealand and Hawaii.

- People have caught on that Swerve is not doing so hot anymore, but Blurr is also developing health related symptoms from the extended stress.

Mecha AU tidbits

- Flyts can brumate! Meaning they go into a sort of stasis when their core temperature drops and flyts can stay in this state for years at a time. This coupled with their fairly easy care requirements and friendly non destructive disposition makes them one of the few organic peta popular with cybertronians.

- Since cybertronians are effectively giant walking engines and computers, their ships are kept pretty cold. A room with an active cybertronian inside isn’t too bad, but an empty room with the AC running can easily hover near freezing temperatures.

- I’m a big fan of Humans Are Space Orcs as a concept, so outside of Cybertronians and quintessons, Humans are bizarrely dangerous compared to the rest of galactic society.

- Velocity hasn’t done anything “wrong” to end up on the Lost Light, she’s just very new to the medical field. One thing she’s gotten down pat is keeping a cool head. Velocity could crack jokes about Jazz being a “talking corpse” but internally she was going “What the fuuuuck. What the fuuuuuuuck.” The whole time she was examining him.

Imagine coming fresh out of med school and your first ever patient is Frankenstein’s Monster.

- Bluestreak is on the Lost Light because Prowl figured Elita would be the commander least likely to kill him out of annoyance and the most likely to make it quick if she did.

Thank you for the ask and hope you have a good day as well!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing a Fictional Monster

From Count Dracula to Ramsay Bolton, some of the most memorable characters in literature are monsters. Use these examples and tips to generate great monster ideas for your own writing.

Characteristics of a Monster

The word ‘monster’ stirs up various ideas of traits and psychological aspects of creepy creatures people fear, but there are a number of ways monsters can be portrayed:

Physical characteristics. Monsters can be massive and powerful, like King Kong or Mothra. It can have slimy body parts, rows of sharp teeth, tentacles, a coat of thick armor, or be a completely small and unassuming sort of thing. The physical characteristics of your monster aren’t just for effect, either. Your monster character design should make sense with the background you’ve provided. For example, if it has wings, it should use them to fly. Monsters aren’t decorative—they're reflections of peoples’ deepest rooted fears.

Psychological traits. Some believe that the true monsters are the ones that lurk inside our own minds. Monsters can scare us when they play into phobias, like Pennywise from Stephen King’s It (1986), who appeared as a vicious clown but also took the form of the main characters’ greatest fears. Monsters can also be symbolic or emotional manifestations. Sometimes monsters don’t need to interact with the characters at all—the characters build the fear around the idea of the monster themselves—which can amplify the terror that readers and viewers feel along with them.

Its targets. Does it feed on children? Is it attracted to despair? Does it get violent at the scent of blood? What triggers your monster? When does it appear, and why? Knowing what motivates your monster is the key to figuring out why it behaves the way it does and creates a sense of understanding for your audience.

Its weaknesses. Is there anything that can vanquish your monster? Is it able to be defeated? Does it hate daylight? Giving your monster its own rules and limits can help establish a believable creature. However, lacking a weakness can also be part of your monster’s horror as well.

How to Write a Monster

If you’re looking for how to make a monster of your own, there are a few guidelines you can follow to make your new monster feel like a real monster:

Provide a little background. Your monster may not exist in the real world, but it still needs some logical follow-through. Where did it come from? Why does it look the way it does? Is it man-made like Dr. Frankenstein’s monster in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1823)? Or is it a natural creature like Beowulf’s Grendel? You don’t have to answer every question about your monster in your writing (sometimes the unknown is just as scary), however, the audience should know a little background information to envision a full enough picture.

Leave space for the imagination. Even though you want the audience to get a complete picture of your monstrosity, a person’s own imagination can always be scarier than anything someone else could create, like the Jabberwock from Lewis Carroll’s nonsense poem The Jabberwocky (1871). Leaving room for your reader to fill in the gaps may result in them imagining their own worst personal fears in conjunction with whatever horrors you’ve already laid out.

Give it a name. Personifying a monster draws it a little closer into real-life, and giving something a name makes it feel more tangible. Sometimes the fear of a name lies in its ambiguity, like John Carpenter’s ‘The Thing,’ or it can be a name that feels scary and powerful, like Tomoyuki Tanaka’s ‘Godzilla.’ Or sometimes, it’s the existing name of a horrific mythological villain like ‘Typhon.’

Make it hard to kill. Sometimes a monster is relentless and needs to be physically fought, and sometimes there’s a secret or trick to killing it that is unknown until later on in the story. Monsters that cannot be defeated easily create big moments of tension and anticipation for readers and viewers alike. The harder to kill, the scarier they become.

Examples: Monsters in Literature

Monsters can be science fiction creations with gaping maws and poisonous fangs, but they can also be like human beings as well, like a rogue android or possessed parent.

Count Dracula: Infamous vampire from Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897).

Balrogs: Menacing monsters of fire and shadow in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series (1937).

Mr. Hyde: Evil alter-ego of the character Dr. Jekyll, from Robert Louis Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886).

The Giant Squid: The monster from the depths in Jules Verne’s classic, Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (1872).

Jack Torrance: The alcoholic father from Stephen King’s The Shining (1977).

Source ⚜ Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[manikas-whims]

LADS men + Halloween Costumes

Now with Sylus solo banner upcoming, the possibility of getting a Halloween quad banner is nil. And i’m happy for it cuz this has saved me from making a really bad financial decision 😆

anyways here's some mulling over the LIs costume choices..

SYLUS

Option 1: Vampire

If we consider Sylus’s overall aesthetic, then Vampire is the most obvious choice for him. He can't go out in the daylight for some inexplicable reason; definitely a creature of the night. He has red eyes that glow in the dark. And even during Destiny Café interactions, he playfully sinks his teeth into your palm. No doubt he'd enjoy sinking them more into your neck 🤭

Also like imagine a 5 star Sylus Halloween card where MC begins suspecting Sylus to be a vampire. And the whole card revolves around her trying to collect evidence. Even Luke and Keiran begin to suspect Sylus thanks to MC and the 3 join forces. The card ends with Sylus playfully scolding all of them 😆 and laughing in disbelief, in that deep cadence that he has 😊

Option 2: Demon

Another obvious choice. If not a vampire, then the red eyes and dark aesthetic are also quite befitting for a Demon attire. A very charming demon who lures you into sinning by offering his black card 🤭 and ofcourse you willingly sell your soul to him.

Option 3: Bounty Hunter

You know those charming sorts of outlaws that everyone loves and roots for? Yeah, that would fit so well with Sylus. Especially the steampunk aesthetic. So yeah..a steampunk style, bounty hunter Sylus with an array of weapons strapped all over. He only works solo but will definitely make an exception for you 😌

Option 4: Crow

Unlike the other two, this option involves a big, poofy bird suit. A crow outfit to be specific. And he looks simply adorable in it 🥺 Imagine yourself trying not to laugh as you sneakily take millions of photos of him in this outfit 🤭 while he sneers at you but there's no actual anger behind his gaze.

XAVIER

Option 1: Werewolf

It may sound unusual upon first thought but this will play so well into his overall persona of the “wolf in sheep's clothing” or “wolf in bunny clothing”. He did nibble on your finger and sniffed your scent in the No Restraint card. And I'm damn sure he has a thing for biting and marking. So just imagine him putting on the wolf ears, claws and fangs, and he starts acting more sly than ever, saying he's only playing the part 😉

Option 2: Royalty

Another obvious choice. Xavier is pretty used to this cause he is royalty afterall. So assuming a position of power comes easy to him (remember Floral Blessing?). Maybe some sort of chivalrous and gallant prince because he can easily add his swordplay skills to it. Seeing him regard you as his queen will be a treat sweeter than all the candies 😌

Option 3: Lumiere

You think it's the most hilarious inside joke— Lumiere hiding in plain sight amidst the crowd of Linkon on one night where a large majority would be dressed as their legend. Their hero. Xavier absolutely hates it! And he hates the amount of people he spots in Lumiere costumes. But he'll put it on upon your insistence. Just be ready for the consequences later on cause this man is jealous of his own superhero alter-ego 😭

Option 4: Angel

Xavier with large white wings protruding from his back would be another fitting sight with his overall white/silver aesthetic. Imagine him as your guardian angel, always watching over you, protecting you and trying his best to guide you on the right path, despite his own desires for you.

Option 5: Bunny/Alien

If not the above choices, then some cute/sexy bunny costume (though we've already got our bunny butler). Or a really silly alien costume that somewhat resembles his sticker set. We know he'll look squisher than ever in those 🥺

ZAYNE

Option 1: Mad Scientist

Something similar to Dr. Faustus or Dr. Frankenstein (yeah Frankenstein was NOT the monster but the name of the guy who created the monster..in case some people still don't know 😭). Zayne’s personal goal– his obsession and drive– to keep MC alive is somewhat similar to Dr. Frankenstein’s obsession with unraveling the secrets of life and well..ultimately beating death by bringing someone to life. And Zayne's hunger for knowledge is also similar to that of Dr. Faustus’s who readily sells his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge.

So yeah..Zayne as a mad scientist, obsessed with knowledge and the drive to keep you alive would be intense 💯/💯

Option 2: Tutor

He'll sigh, take off his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance, like he always does. But you'll somehow convince him to do it because he's incapable of saying no to you.

It starts as a silly costume idea but the moment you see his legs clad in those unusually tight-fitting slacks and the pointer stick in his hand, you realize you might have a tutor kink and that you wouldn't mind misbehaving cause you'd actually enjoy getting punished by him 🫣

Option 3: Snowman/Penguin

The cute option! Definitely Dr. Carter, Yvonne and his other co-workers coaxed him to put it on for the little kids visiting Akso hospital throughout the week. When you stop by for a scheduled check-up and stumble upon him, you can't help but take loads of pictures of him with the kids 😊

RAFAYEL

Option 1: Merman/Siren

Just like Xavier as Lumiere, Rafayel as a merman on halloween would be such a spectacular inside joke.

At first he'd be offended because the fake tail you bought for him would feel like an insult to the real thing. He would pout and narrow his brows but after your constant cajoling and sweet-talking he'll agree to indulge you. And it's all fun and games until you realize why all those sailors in fiction are so terrified yet turned on at the mere sight of a merman/siren. He'll entice you so easily with his velvety voice 😵‍💫

Option 2: Assassin

Don't fall for his pretty face. Rafayel can be cunning, deceptive and deadly when he wants to be. (in the main story and also as Abysswalker). As such, putting on the attire of an assassin would come easy to him. His charm is as lethal as the numerous daggers he conceals within his clothes. He’ll strike you right in the heart. Can totally imagine him doing finger guns at you 😉

Option 3: Chick

Pouty babie in an adorable chick costume with a beret and paintbrush, like his sticker pack. Imagine him struggling with the bulky costume, trying to waddle towards you in annoyance, demanding you to immediately help him take off the costume. Despite it all, he'd let you hug him and take selfies. He'll hate every minute of it but still pose properly when you take pics 😆

these are just some silly thoughts..what are your costume ideas for each LI 🤔

» MASTERLIST «

[grunckle]

On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.

One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.

For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.

He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.

“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”

But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.

So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.

The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.

"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you. "On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory." ...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.

"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."

You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.

We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.

"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."

And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!

So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.

For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.

But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.

You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.

For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.

For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.

But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.

And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.

"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."

Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...

[idesofrevolution]

A Night at the Kings Theatre

The Kings Theatre had been long abandoned by the city for over half a century, haunted by the memory of that fateful night in 1978. No one knows exactly what happened, but from tragedy arose legend. 143 people entered the auditorium that April night, prepared to see a terrifying new film just recently brought to America out of West Germany. "Der Kuss der Lust" was some sort of return to the German Expressionist Horror of the 1920's, a film scarcely heard of outside art houses in Berlin, and the hapless crowd came in droves. By the end of the showing, the police had arrived, the majority of patrons leaving the theatre in handcuffs or straightjackets. The city never released any information on the event, opting instead to board up the grand building and never speak of the subject again. That is, until 2024.

The group stared up at the Grandiose Marquee, excited for the long awaited return of their neighborhood movie palace. The four of them giddy with anticipation, they each had their tickets in hand: all found mysteriously in their post boxes that morning. Teddy stood with his mouth agape in awe at the sheer beauty of the facade, while Rod, Sabrina, and Pete gossiped amongst themselves.

"Yeah, it was literally in my mailbox this morning." Sabrina's characteristic monotone delivery making the two boys snicker.

"Girl I can tell you're sooo excited." Rod rolling his eyes at his roommate, well acquainted with her stoic persona. Pete stood looking down at his phone, trying to browse the theatre website to see what film they were about to be subjected to.

"All it says on here is 'Grand Opening Event.' It doesn't say what movie it is. OH! I bet it's that new one we've been seeing trailers all over the place about! The one with Ryan Gosling and Ross Lynch necking while Jennifer Coolidge just sits there!" Pete's boisterous and brash demeanor yet again shining through. A lack of volume control was a typical symptom of his theatre gay archetype, but nothing his friends were unprepared for.

"Shhhh. Look, they're letting people in!" Teddy hushed his little group, pointing to the tall gentleman at the door, now checking ticket stubs as the patrons slowly trickled inside. Teddy was merely along for the ride, roped into the outing by Rod, who was continuously concerned with his homebody lifestyle. "So we don't know what we're watching tonight, huh?" The three others shrugged.

"Does it really matter? It's something to do, Teddy..." Sabrina scoffing under her breath as they slowly inched toward the front doors. Teddy looked at the ticket man up ahead, his eyes sunken in and hunching over the audience members like Frankenstein's Monster.

"I bet he's in character for the movie! I've heard about this in class. They used to have all the staff act all spooky and improv with the crowd to get them in the mood for the movie! I bet it's a horror movie then!" Pete's enthusiasm was not exactly reciprocated as the boys shrugged and Sabrina rolled her eyes. Teddy felt a twinge of foreboding as they approached the towering man, each handing him their tickets. He stared at the group for a moment, the four tickets just hanging loosely from his grey fingers.

"Uh, are we good to go?" Rod stared at the man, whose head slowly turned down to meet his gaze before a demented grin crawled across his decrepit face. He bowed dramatically, waving his arm to usher them into the building, not a single utterance leaving his blue lips.

"Wow, impressive acting. Let's go, boys." Sabrina pushed the three through the open brass doors, Teddy's gaze having a hard time breaking with the strange man. His grin seemed to melt away almost instantly, returning to stonefaced indifference as he attended to the group behind.

"What the fuck was that?" Teddy turned to his group, Rod the only one taking the time to even acknowledge his query.

"Listen, they're just gettin' you in the mood! Like Pete was saying! Lighten up, man. I promise we'll take you home right after this, and you don't have to come out until next week. And we're doin' karaoke baby!" Rod nudged Teddy, whose response was a coy smile as he stared at his feet. He didn't want to be there, but for the sake of his friends he was making an effort.

The lobby was bright and opulent, the Beaux-Arts architecture perfectly coordinating with the beautiful exterior. Heavy red velvet drapes hung between the marble columns, a grand staircase likely bringing folks to the mezzanine, and a modest but well stocked concessions stand stood in the middle of the room. Historic film posters hung prominently against the walls: Casablanca, Dracula, Gone with the Wind, Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte, Rebel Without A Cause, Rebecca... all with bold 'COMING SOON' stickers plastered against the glass displays.

"I guess they're doing a whole retro movies vibe! Ooh! I wanna come back to see James Dean on the Silver Screen!" Pete jumped excitedly at the prospect, running over to the poster to take a picture as Sabrina walked to concessions to get popcorn. Rod and Teddy stood there, just admiring the grandeur of the space before the chandeliers began to flicker rather ominously.

"I think that means we need to find our seats." Teddy turned to look at Rod, who was squinting at the tickets to see what seat they'd all been assigned.

"We're in something called MEZ? What the fuck does that mean?" Teddy snatched the ticket, pointing to the top of the stairs in response.

"It means mezzanine, we're upstairs." Teddy motioned to Pete to rejoin them just as Sabrina returned with a gigantic barrel of buttery popcorn, munching away. The group ascended the stone stairs, avoiding brushing against the eager spectators as they rushed to their seats.

The auditorium was equally as grand. A massive brass chandelier hung prominently above the house, boxes lining the sides of the walls above row after row of velvet seats. The group made their way to their rows: Rod and Sabrina in row 3, Pete and Teddy in row 2 immediately in front. They took their seats as the vintage concessions ad played on the massive screen. Teddy heard Rod and Sabrina bickering about roomie problems he cared nothing about, as Pete blathered on about the history of the anthropomorphic dancing popcorn box. The mood in the room was one of excitement, of anticipation, yet for Teddy... it was off. The air felt stale and stagnant, the uncanniness of the movie palace long after it's prime seemed to hang differently in his mind. It felt like a time capsule, a liminal space where time had just frozen still, waiting to swallow it's naive visitors. Perhaps it was just the social anxiety, as Rod would likely dismiss it as. Yet, for whatever reason, Teddy sat on edge and alert. The lights began to dim, and a hush fell over the auditorium as previews began to roll for the films advertised in the lobby.

"Ooooooh! Bela Lugosi was so hot. Like seriously." Pete chimed with his typically chipper demeanor, stealthily stealing a handful of Sabrina's popcorn from behind him as they whispered deep in their argument. "Like can you even blame her for falling for him? I mean come on." Teddy just nodded along, peering around him at the crowd of exceedingly normal people watching the old trailer with glee.

The trailers ended with the screams of Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland; Hush, Hush Sweet Charotte ending it's preview as the room was flooded in blackness. Teddy swore he could faintly hear whispers emanating from all around him in the dark cavern, before the room was once again illuminated as the black and white title card brightly shone on the canvas screen. The words were in a strange font, clearly not in English.

"Durr kusss durr loost... Ahh shit is this some kind of foreign film?" Sabrina sighed and reclined back into her chair, taking solace in the handfuls of popcorn she'd been shoveling into her mouth. Teddy recognized none of the actors names as they quickly flashed before his eyes, nor could he understand any of the words in the opening credits. He didn't speak German, but he couldn't wait to rub the hiccup in Rod's face: yet another social outing turning out completely unintended. Thankfully, as the camera opened onto some old Baroque village, as dialogue began, he was relieved to see English subtitles scurrying at the bottom of the screen.

He struggled to keep up with the narrative, as the translation may have been rather poor to begin with, instead opting to focus on the increasingly strange sets these actors were traversing. From what he could tell, there was a nobleman of some sort who found a village woman he'd fallen in love with. The book was promising powers of love beyond human comprehension, and in his hubris, the nobleman tries to cast a spell of lust on the beautiful young woman.

"I mean look at the set design, it's giving Nosferatu. NO! Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.... Oooh it's so cool!" Rod nudged Pete with his shoe, shushing him as neighboring patrons shoot dirty looks in their direction. Teddy became completely enveloped in the bizarre imagery rather quickly. The film was almost dreamlike in quality, walls seemed to jut out in different directions, the lighting was dim at best and only illuminating essential props or entrances and exits for characters. The sounds of the auditorium slowly faded away into the periphery, and all that could be perceived was the muffled voices of the actors.

Time was not a consistent factor in the film, it just meandered from scene to scene, with disconcerting Dutch angles increasing dread at every turn. What felt like one minute could easily have been twenty, but fortune momentarily smiled on the encapsulated young man. Teddy felt his stomach rumble, momentarily breaking him from his trancelike state to reach behind him into their popcorn bowl. He'd fully expected a wrist slap from Sabrina, but after three or four handfuls of popcorn, that moment never came. This moment of sheer confusion pulled him out of his tunnel vision, if only to reassure Sabrina that he'd pitch in for the popcorn. As he turned around, he was met with a sight he never could have ever imagined.

Sabrina's head was turned toward Rod, and for a moment, Teddy thought they were just whispering to eachother, continuing their asinine argument over who ate the pickle chips the night before. Though as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room around him, it became clearer just what it was they were doing. Her lips were planted firmly on Rod's, his left hand slowly sliding up her thigh. Teddy quickly swiveled his head back to the screen, eyes wide with shock. Rod was a flaming queer, just as he was and just as Pete was. Sure, Sabrina was straight, but he couldn't imagine her boyfriend being thrilled at the sight of Rod necking her in a movie theatre.

"Dude! Look at their facial expressions! You don't even need subtitles, you just need to see their faces!" Pete's voice hummed distantly, being completely ignored by all around him, doing little to aid Teddy's growing discomfort. The sounds of wet, sloppy kissing began to ring out from behind him, their breaths shallow and low. Teddy's eyes darted around him, the faded outlines of the other patrons not getting any clearer, nothing but the film there to distract him. Especially as the sounds of comingling tongues abruptly came to an end, only to quickly be replaced by another more terrifying sound.

*Slurp* *Slurp* *Slurp* *Slurp* "Ahhhh yeah, baby..." It was unmistakable. That was Rod... With each stifled moan, every snarling growl and wet slurp, he could hear his friend's voice growing lower and lower. His growls becoming louder... rougher... more animalistic. Teddy stared forward, beads of sweat starting to seep out of his forehead as he listened to the two most ill-matched people get it on directly behind him. He heard their pace quicken, Sabrina's slurps turning into gags as he heard more bizarre sounds arising from behind. Creaking... The sound of shifting leather, or maybe it was tearing fabric... Or the sound of an inflating balloon... Teddy felt his breath start to quiver, as he looked down between the armrests, seeing Rod's Chuck Taylors start to wriggle and writhe. His eyes widened, seeing the black canvas fabric start to flush white, growing larger and larger. He recognized the Nike symbol starting to protrude from the sides of the sneaker, and as Rod's voice growled into an enraptured release, the Converse were now a pair of large, beat up AirForce1's, covered vulgarities written in black Sharpie. Teddy whipped his head back to the screen, Sabrina giggling as he heard the sound of a waistband snapping back to place. It was silent for a moment, Teddy too nervous to look behind him, but desperately wanting to know what happened to his friends.

"Ahhhhhhh yeah, babe." There was a thud, Teddy peering down to his right and seeing the gigantic sneaker resting on his arm rest. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned his head. There, leaning forward with his hands on his head was Rod- or at least, someone that once was Rod. The tall, skinny little gay boy he'd befriended had been replaced with a gigantic, tattooed man. His hair cropped short, his muscles bulging, his shirt sitting on his thigh below his exposed torso now adorned with thick silver chains.

"Huhu, my bad, bro. When duty calls, am I right?" Rod grabbed onto his monstrous bulge, hiding behind the cum stained fabric of his white shorts. Teddy felt the blood rush from his head at the very sight of it. He watched as Sabrina, now equally scantily clad with tattoos, jet black hair, and devious grin mischievously slithered her hand beneath his waistband, grabbing ahold of his thick cock and slowly pumping. Rod winked at Teddy, turning again to Sabrina and kissing her once again.

Teddy whipped his head back to the screen, mortified and terrified in equal measure. He looked around him yet again, only seeing once again the dim outlines of the other patrons completely enveloped in the film before them. He turned behind him, doing his best to ignore the slimy sound of Rod's handjob to see the doors had staff members blocking each exit.

"Fuuuuuuck, bro. This shit is tight. Lemme tell you, man. I need this shit on Netflix." Teddy ignored Pete's typical unwarranted commentary, peering down over the house to see if the patrons below were also... different. Through the dark haze of the auditorium, he received his answer. The vast majority of the audience was completely enraptured with the film, not so much as flinching as they watched the nightmarish visions on screen. However, he'd started to notice the dim outlines of a couple people leaning in toward eachother. He couldn't pry his eyes away, so Teddy could only watch as he saw the patrons start to grope, kiss, and go down on eachother. A couple up front necking in the first row, two guys sliding their hands into eachother's pants in box 5, a group of what he'd assumed were bachelorettes just sliding their hands over eachother's breasts.

"Pete... Pete, we gotta get the fuck out of here." Teddy whispered to his friend, not taking his eyes off of the filth that was unraveling around them. Three seats over, one man was now bent over the railing of the balcony, three other men taking turns railing him right there in public to no outcry whatsoever. Teddy whipped his head toward Pete, still intently watching the film. "Pete! Pete, let's go!" He grabbed onto his wrist, feeling a strange rubbery texture tightly wrapped around it. He looked down, watching in terror as his friend's pristine watch slowly warped beneath his hands. Tightening until all that was left were three rubber bracelets in bright vivid colors.

Teddy's gaze slowly rose from his friend's hand as his fingernails slowly turned black. The rotund theatre gay was rapidly losing mass. His tight sweatervest growing looser and looser before his eyes. Fat seemed to shrink into nothingness as the sleeves of his shirt began to slowly rise up the length of his arms.

"Dude... I feel kinda funky, bro." The typical chipper demeanor was slowly vanishing, his eager eyes began to droop, as his short brown hair started to grow. The dark brown hairs quickly were flushed with a wash of bright blonde as it snaked out of his scalp down to the nape of his neck in sweaty, messy curls. His jawline was sharpening, his lips getting plump and thick.

"Pete... PETE!" Teddy screamed at the top of his lungs, not a single patron even flinching at the toil in his voice. "HELP! SOMETHING IS WRONG! SOMETHING IS VERY VERY WRONG!" Teddy shot up out of his seat, his ankle painfully hitting something hard. He peered down to see a heavily used skateboard resting under his friend's feet, absentmindedly rolling side to side as his loafers warped quickly into large, well worn white Vans. Teddy clamped his hand over his mouth as he followed the shifting clothes, up the khakis turning tight and ripped against lean thighs, up to the growing bulge and wet patch bulging out of his groin, up to the studded belt tightly wrapped around his lean waist.

"Heheh..." Pete's voice was growing duller, more coarse as the scent of sweat and cannabis began to waft off him. His sweatervest and shirt shrinking into a sweat stained white tee shirt, and as Teddy's gaze finally fell on Pete's face... he knew he was gone.

"Broooo this shit is sick... Oooh, man. I got a j in my pocket, man. I'll let you hit it if you let me..." Pete's fingers inched toward his belt buckle, slipping under the fabric of his jeans. "C'mon bro. Don't let Rod be the only one gettin' some dick attention tonight." He winked through the colored sunglasses hiding the red, stoned eyes behind.

"I..." Teddy nervously stood there as Pete unbuckled his pants, his twinky, sweaty hand sliding down into his underwear and wrapping around his slowly growing cock.

"Yeah, bro... Come let Petey take care of this." Teddy was lost in a moment of bliss as Pete slowly and tenderly stroked his cock in his pants, igniting the joint between his lips as he pumped.

"Whuh.... Wait... I uh... I need to go to the bathroom. Really bad. I'll be back, just give me a minute..." Pete smirked, letting his hand retract from Teddy's groin.

"Well, don't be too long, bro. My throat is waitin' for ya. Heheh." He stuck out his long tongue with a vulgar whip. Teddy wasted no time bolting toward the door, realizing only as he was chest to chest with the decrepit usher that the restrooms were merely to his right and left. The creepy man flashed the same unhinged smile, not budging an inch. Teddy burst into the men's room, leaning against the ceramic pedestal sink and peering into the mirror. He flipped the faucet, water flowing from the tap as he splashed it against his face. Then, he heard it. The creaking of leather. He looked down at his feet in horror as the New Balance sneakers he sported started to quiver and undulate.

"No... Noo... NOOO." He vigorously splashed his face with the cold water, rubbing his face like a maniac. It was only then that he started to feel the roughness around his upper lip and jaw. He couldn't bring himself to look into the mirror, as he felt hair sprout below his nose and stubble poking around his sharpening jawline. He could only peer down as he slowly began to accept his fate. The sneakers quickly stretched wide and big, a scuffed black leather replacing the grey suede as they shifted into a pair of heavy black harness boots.

His breath grew shallow and rapid, watching his sweatpants suction in tight around his inflating calves and thighs, turning slick and black. The comfortable grey Champion sweats were nearly skintight now, as if painted on atop his lengthening legs. The bottoms slipped into his boots and fastened beneath the damp fabric of his black socks, and the shiny black leather pants began to creak as his own bulge started to grow round and distended. Teddy gasped for air as he felt his shaft stretch out, a foreskin creeping over the head of his weeping cockhead, seeping into the sweat and cum inundated jockstrap now around his waist and thick ass.

"Ohhh... fuuuuuuuck." His fingernails turned black as tattoos began to sprawl from his knuckles up his swelling arms. The sweatshirt he wore felt tighter and tighter as his shoulders broadened and his torso stretched upward, taking on a lighter tone as little tears started to appear around the collar and along the seams. "Unnnnnnnnff" His voice started to dip lower and lower as the heavy sweatshirt's sleeves retracted in toward his shoulders. He felt himself sweating, wiping the sweat from his lowering brow and brushing the now frosted blonde tips of his mullet to the side. He looked at his hands, undeniably his own, yet completely unfamiliar; watching them as they slowly slipped lower toward his throbbing cock. He pulled up his weathered, well loved white tank top, the intricate ink across his rippled abs begging him to go lower and lower, his head throwing itself back as his fingers slipped into his creaking leather pants.

"Brooooooo you in here? What, didja fall in?" As he heard Petey's stoned ass voice echo off the tiled walls, he turned his head as he groped his slimy cock in his pouch. His three friends, vaguely familiar now, all sauntered in looking at him with knowing smirks. "Awww, Theo. I told ya not to get started without me."

Theo leaned on the sink, groping himself with a devilish smirk, beckoning his favorite throat goat to come gobble up his musky rod. Petey took a hit off the joint, handing it to Sabrina before getting on his knees before their bisexual bad boy. He opened his maw, Theo knowing right away what to do as he spit in Petey's eager mouth, and pulled out his throbbing dick. As the skater expertly wrapped his lips around his manhood, Theo turned to Rod and Sabrina, winking. Rod grinned.

"Yeah, boy. Gimme summa that, no homo though, bro." The 6'5 basketball stud sauntered over to his bro, planting a wet kiss onto Theo's supple, cigarette stained lips. As Sabrina took Rod's monstrous cock into her mouth, the four of them fucked in the bathroom surrounded by the stench of sex. Swapping partners at the drop of a hat, sucking face and dick with no hesitation, worshipping Theo & Rod's big smelly feet or railing Petey's tight little hole while Sabrina ate out Theo's sweaty rear. By the time the Usher came in to tell them the film was over, buckets of cum were splattered over the walls, floor, ceiling, and friends.

"Heh, c'mon guys. We can continue this back at my place." Theo wrangled his little posse of fuck buddies out of the bathroom, past the outrageous orgy slapping about in the auditorium. The four walked out of the Kings Theatre, stinking of cum and sweat in the night air, knowing fully well they'd be returning soon enough.

[sheltershock]

Yes.

Maybe I've just yet to find someone who's done this already but

Has anyone considered a sashamilla alien au where either Sasha or Milla are aliens?

I'm thinking of it like a Star Trek situation where the psychonauts are an intergalatic psychic operation or something and it would be cute to see either human sasha be immediately enamored with cute alien Milla that's his new coworker (first out of excitement cause holy shit he gets to me an actual alien but then he gets to know her and falls for her) OR sasha himself is an alien with a special interest in humans and upon being paired up with Milla just subtly studies her and asks her about humans in general and he gets more than he bargains for as she excitedly shows him all things fun

This was just something that came to mind based on Sasha's interest in aliens and I figured a space au would be interesting with him

[tookishcombeferre]

Character Arcs: Why I Refuse to See the New Lilo & Stitch Remake

So, I hesitated to jump into this debate because I wasn't sure I could comment on something I haven't' seen.

However, I want to comment on *why* I won't see it, and it has to do with the fact that I think three characters have been irreparably damaged because of how their narrative arcs have changed in the adaptation.

ONE: Dr. Jumba Jookiba: An Absolute Masterpiece in Progressing the "Mad Scientist Trope"

Dr. Jumba is based in an important literary trope that stems all the way back to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, at least, perhaps earlier?

Therefore, to remove Dr. Jumba's accent and make him the primary villain is to remove something fundamental about *him* and what makes him different from those other scientists in literature before him.

Dr. Frankenstein. Dr. Jekyll. Dr. Van Helsing. Faust.

These are all characters that make up elements of Dr. Jumba's character design, coding, and creation. They were placed lovingly into Dr. Jumba's character through each element of his creation.

Yet, these characters usually do not get any kind of significant "redemption" arcs or anything apart from the sort of "morality play" lessons written into their novels/novellas. (Except Van Helsing who is, arguably a decent bloke to begin with.)

Yet, something changes within the monster genre with the invention of film ... particularly slapstick humor in black and white films.

In the original 2002 film, Stitch is captivated by old black and white monster films. He loves the destruction caused by giant invading spider creatures. He even recreates one of the scenes in which a monster in a black and white film destroys San Francisco.

However, what Dr. Jumba comes to realize watching Stitch in that moment/ those moments of emptiness and loss after destruction is that there isn't a deeper purpose.

And, that digs into some of the greater questions of monster literature at large:

What is humanity's purpose?

What is a monster?

What is the role of their creator?

At what point is the monster a reflection of the creator?

Yet, about that spin off genre ...

Amidst the the more traditional adaptations of monster stories in black and white film, as well as other unique and new monster stories made exclusively FOR film, came things like "Young Frankenstein."

In these slapstick and humorous adaptations, many things about the original monster stories were changed. In these movies, the creator and monster both "reconciled." This usually occurred through some combination of slapstick humor and basically proto-meme culture.

("Young Frankenstein" involves a whole tap dance routine followed by an exploding light fixture and a race through the German countryside ...)

("Young Frankenstein" From IMDB)

In "Young Frankenstein," the reconciliation between monster and creator is fast, silly, but, yet, somehow, actually, leads to some kind of meaningful commentary on humanity.

At the very end, Fredrick and The Creature talk, and they come to the agreement that the Creature is going to receive some of Fredrick's intellect. He will finally, trully, be *adopted* as a Frankenstein.

In this scene, the Creature speaks for the first time, and they do manage to settle the crowd.

And, at the very end, we close on another standard unifying human topic ... toilet humor.

So, if you'd ask me,*this* is the spirit of Dr. Jumba's turn around.

When Dr. Jumba says "Well, he's very persuasive ..." after Stitch says like 3 words?

This! *This* trope, and probably this exact movie, is where that comes from.

To deny that, and to change it, fundamentally alters the spirit of one of the primary influences of the film which is these old school monster flicks.

Besides that, the way Lilo and Stitch changed the genre of monster literature as we understand it is *undeniable.* Prior to films like "Young Frankenstein," and other parodies like it, the stories of the past remained what they were.

Yet, Lilo and Stitch, and Dr. Jumba in particular, begin to draw a perfect circle.

The hard questions of the old pieces of literature could be asked and answered, BUT they could be answered through humor and fart jokes.

Dr. Jumba is the classic Faustian, Dr. Jekyll, Dr. Frankenstein scientist who learns compassion for his creation because he finds purpose, no matter how quickly, in loving Stitch. Dr. Jumba is part of the support system created for Nani, Lilo, and Stitch because *he* needs it.

For most of the film, Dr. Jumba doesn't understand what family is or why it matters. He can't. His goal is make things that destroy things. He doesn't understand human life as valuable (or, perhaps, he doesn't see any life as valuable?) Yet, what he comes to know, through Stitch, is the value of *life.* (Look no further than the sequel film to see *that* come to fruition.)

It's this additional layer that unites two halves - the original monster stories of traditional "mad scientists" and the parodies in which reconciliation is brought about by toilet humor and bad dancing - both of those arcs and narratives deeply influence the "monster" side of Lilo and Stitch's narrative structure. And, for better or worse, Dr. Jumba Jookiba's quick and quirky "redemption" is at the center of that telling.

Gantu needs to be present as the foil for Dr. Jumba. He is the heard-hearted, almost Javert-esque, maniac who cares for nothing and no one except the mission sent for him. Dr. Jumba cares enough to ask questions.

Dr. Jumba's curiosity is his *salvation.*

Gantu's rigidity is his *downfall.*

TWO: Captain Gantu: Lost in Time ... Lost in Space ... Another Casualty of the Capitalist Race

Captain Gantu also has a role to play in these black and white monster films and, to completely remove him, is to do a huge disservice to these sources of influence.

Going back to the "Young Frankenstein" example, there is actually a police officer character named Inspector Kemp. Kemp is actually, kinda-sorta, part of the reason The Creature is accidentally freed near the middle-end of "Young Frankenstein" and is just generally really obnoxious.

(Actually, as I retrace the IMDB for "Young Frankenstein" to check my notes, I'm noticing that there are a *surprising* number of parallels between Frederick and Jumba, Kemp and Gantu, and The Creature and Stitch.)

However, all that to say, Gantu needs to be present because without him the story no longer works. Lilo and Stitch is built on the backs of monster stories in which a "mad scientist" is chased down by "the law." Without "the law," there is no story.

The beauty of what Lilo and Stitch does, however, is asking us to reframe who is *right* and who is *wrong.* What is *just* and what is *merciful.*

Gantu, in many ways, may be *right* and he may be *just.* But, that does not make him merciful. Gantu's lack of mercy is what causes his ENDS to fail to justify his MEANS.

And, that?

That is what makes Gantu so fun to root against and to despise.

To take away Dr. Jumba's quiet moments of reflection, to make him a twist villain, (and remove Gantu completely) fundamentally changes *who* Jumba is *and* what he's meant to represent. It fundamentally changes what this film *does* for the genre in which Lilo and Stitch belongs.

I could get into a whole other rant about why this is significant to me as a neurodivergent person and the extraordinary significance of Lilo and Stitch as a monster narrative that features both a monster and a clearly neurodiverse-coded main character.

But, that's likely a separate post.

Yet, know that monsters and changelings have long been a stand-in for neurodivergent and disabled people in literature, and I do not think it was/ is coincidental the Lilo AND Stitch are written as they are and were chosen to be paired together.

Therefore, to *remove* Dr. Jumba's redemption towards Stitch as benevolent creator changes not only his arc, but the longstanding commentary on the role of the creator and what they created in monster literature.

And, to remove Gantu completely departs from the "monster literature" source material trope so strongly that I'm not even sure they're following the same plot anymore.

THREE: Nani: The Most Egregious Sin has Been Saved for Last

So many wonderful Hawaiian native folks have spoken on this subject all over the internet.

Please, I implore you, go find what they've posted on this platform, on YouTube, on Tik Tok and listen to them.

It is really not that hard to find everything from scholarly articles to everyday folks talking about *why* Nani leaving Lilo in the hands of the state to "pursue a degree" is not the "happy ending" it sounds like to most of the rest of us.

As a white trans-masc dude *from the mainland,* I'm just going to say when I heard about that twist, I turned to my spouse and said "My God, it's like if someone adapted The Outsiders and had Darry leave on a football scholarship instead of staying with Soda and Ponyboy."

And. Yes. I do believe the change is that fundamental. Teleportation gun or no.

The end.

[ghoulsverse]

Chapter One [Intro]: Nice to Meet You?

[Summary] Wanda returns to Westeview and comes face to face with what she's done. 1.8k words | [Tags] Angst, Sad!Wanda

Chapter Index

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The silence was the worst part. After the roar of collapsing universes, the screams of the damned, and the final destruction of Wundagore, the quiet that followed was a suffocating shroud. Wanda Maximoff existed within it, stuck in the wreck of her own making. Guilt was a constant.

She’d found refuge, of a sort, in a remote cabin nestled deep within snow-dusted mountains, far from any prying eyes or lingering magical signatures that might betray her location. Days bled into nights, marked only by the meager meals she forced herself to eat and the fitful hours spent pouring over ancient texts, searching not for power, but for something else… Atonement? Understanding? Oblivion? She didn’t know anymore. All she knew was the emptiness where her children’s laughter should have been, where Vision’s presence should have grounded her.

Westview had been a desperate act. An open wound lashed out upon reality. Frowning, Wanda closed her eyes, letting herself feel every emotion. She decided it was time to face her sins. Returning to Westview.

Wanda took her time traveling back to New Jersey, most of that time spent feeling anxious. Anxious over the reactions of people, in her mind she saw an angry mob formed with torches and pitchforks like in Frankenstein. As much as she loved the classics, she wasn't Frankenstein. Frankenstein wasn't the monster, his creator was, and in this story, she was the creator. Forcing an entire town to live in her own reality, one that they didn’t want. She was the monster here.

She dealt with the stares and hushed whispers, people crossing to the other side of the street and the look of fear in their eyes as she walked past. All to walk up to her own home, or what should have been her home, covered in graffiti calling her an evil witch. She didn’t feel sadness or anger when she saw the words written on the concrete foundation, she felt understanding.

This was her punishment.

The lot was hers since no one wanted to buy it after she lifted the Hex, and what better way to atone for her actions than to rebuild her life from the ground up?

She spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the concrete foundation, sweeping off the dust and leaves, and scrubbing the paint off the side. It felt safe to do the entire project without magic. It was therapeutic in a way, like forcing herself to focus on something tangible, something that didn’t change with her emotions. The weight of each motion, of every scrub and every sweep, grounded her, like she was actively working toward some sort of repair, if not of the town, then of herself.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, she decided to head out of town to find a motel to stay in. No place in Westview would allow her to stay, so she found a small motel in Eastview that took pity on her, agreeing to let her stay if she did a bit of housekeeping for them until her house was rebuilt. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. She opened the door to her room and looked around at the dingy and under-kept conditions. This was her punishment.

Wanda spent the entire night tossing and turning, barely getting any sleep. She stopped at the grocery store to get something to put in her stomach, even though she couldn't stomach much. This was how she would start over.

With only a few vegetables and snacks in hand, she left to head to the home improvement store to get some items to begin rebuilding her home.

Then she saw you.

As if sensing her gaze, you looked up. Your eyes met hers across the street. There was no fear in your expression, no shock. Instead, a slow, warm smile spread across your face, a look of such genuine, uncomplicated affection that it struck Wanda like a physical blow.

"Wanda," you called out, your voice gentle, familiar. "You're back early today."

Wanda. Not the Scarlet Witch. Not the monster who tore through Kamar-Taj. Just… Wanda. The version of her that existed here, apparently. The version you smiled at with such open adoration, your cheeks flushing slightly.

She expected everyone in Westview to still hate her for what she did, but you didn’t. It unnerved her. There was something else, something was off about you. Something she couldn't put her finger on. She wanted to look away, to hide, but instead, she found herself frozen in place, as if she were a child caught doing something wrong. As if she were still that girl, hiding behind an illusion of family, of happiness.

“She hasn’t been the same… since you.” A passerby hissed at her, disdain clear in their voice.

“What?” Wanda felt sick.

“When you left, she stayed stuck. Still thinks she lives in the past.”

Nausea churned with a bitter, possessive longing. You were here. Still trapped. Trapped in her creation, a cage built from her subconscious desires and tainted magic. And you were looking at the very source of your imprisonment, with eyes full of burgeoning love.

The urge to rip it all down, to shatter the facade and pull you out with a deeper, more potent fear. If she broke the spell, if she showed you the jagged, broken thing she truly was, stained by the Darkhold and soaked in blood and grief… that adoration in your eyes would turn to ash. You wouldn't be so nice to the real Wanda. Nobody did.

She stood frozen on the street, suddenly feeling a desperate, terrifying need to save you and also to run for the hills.

This was her punishment.

So she ran. Wanda ducked her head down and continued on with her day, a deep weight settling in her stomach and in her heart.

The entire time she was working on rebuilding her house, her body was moving on autopilot, her mind moving a million miles a minute. Seeing you made her think, how many other people were stuck in their minds? How many people were stuck in the reality she created?

“Finally fixing it up?”

She froze, instinctively turning to where your voice came from, her eyes wide.

You looked at her sweetly, a smile reaching your eyes. “Sorry, Wanda. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“O-oh, no-no problem.”

“I was just wondering if you decided to fix up the house finally?”

Wanda stood up from her spot and awkwardly played with her hands. “Y-yeah, I guess it felt like a good thing to do.”

“By yourself?”

She just nodded.

“Well, props to you, I could never. If you decide you need a snack while you’re hard working, feel free to stop by. I’m still just two houses down.” You smile at her softly before readjusting the bag of groceries in your hand and turning to head back to your own house, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil Wanda's feeling.

Wanda watched you walk away, the cheerful swing of the grocery bag a stark contrast to the leaden weight settling deeper within her chest. Two houses down. So close. Living in a gentle memory while Wanda stood in the harsh sunlight of reality, surrounded by the literal and figurative wreckage of her actions. You saw the Wanda from the fantasy, the one who maybe deserved such simple comforts, not the woman scrubbing hateful graffiti off a foundation, trying to rebuild something from ashes she herself had created.

She sank back onto her heels, the rough concrete scraping against her jeans. The hammer felt heavy and useless in her hand. Rebuilding this house piece by painful piece felt like a tangible act of repentance, something solid she could focus on. But you… you were different. A living, breathing consequence, trapped not by physical walls but by the magic she’d desperately tried to leave behind.

The passerby’s words echoed… “She hasn’t been the same… since you.” Since Wanda left.

Since Wanda ripped away the illusion for everyone else, but somehow, you remained tethered to it. Why? Was it some quirk of the magic? Something specific to you? Or just another random cruelty dealt by forces she barely understood?

Her atonement couldn’t just be manual labor and glares, it had to include fixing what she broke within people, too. Especially you.

Later that evening, after forcing down a few bites of the meager groceries she’d bought and enduring another tense check-in at the Eastview motel, Wanda found herself drawn back. Not to the lot, shrouded in darkness, but down the quiet street, towards your house. She stayed in the shadows across the road, a phantom watching the warm light spill from your windows. She didn’t dare use her magic overtly, terrified of strengthening the illusion or causing more damage. Instead, she reached out tentatively with her senses.

There it was. Faint, almost imperceptible, but undeniably hers. Threads of chaos magic, woven into a soothing, repetitive pattern. It wasn't the suffocating blanket of the Hex, it was softer, more personal, like a favorite song playing endlessly on repeat, designed to comfort. It clung specifically to your house, to you. It seemed the Hex hadn't fully lifted here, it had just collapsed inward, keeping you in a personalized memory bubble.

A porch light flicked on, and Wanda instinctively pulled back further into the shadows as your front door opened. You stepped out, holding a small plate covered loosely with a napkin. You glanced towards Wanda's dark, empty lot, a soft, almost melancholic smile on your face, before looking up and down the quiet street. You seemed hesitant, perhaps debating whether to leave the plate on the foundation for Wanda to find tomorrow. After a moment, you sighed softly, shook your head, and went back inside, the lock clicking softly in the night.

Wanda leaned her head back against the rough bark of a tree, closing her eyes. Seeing you, seeing the lingering magic, seeing the simple, persistent kindness you held onto for a version of her that never truly existed… it solidified something within her. Fear with protective determination. Rebuilding the house was one thing. Freeing you was another.

It wouldn’t be easy. Breaking the illusion might shatter the gentle peace you currently existed in. Facing the reality of what Wanda had done, who she truly was now, might destroy the affection you held. It might break you. And it might break Wanda, facing that rejection.

But she had to try. Leaving you trapped wasn't atonement… it was cowardice.

This, too, was her punishment. And maybe, just maybe, her path to actually fixing something that mattered. She turned away from the warm glow of your house, the weight in her chest now mingled with a fragile, dangerous resolve. Tomorrow, she would continue rebuilding the house. And tomorrow, she would start figuring out how to bring you back.

Next Chapter

[vintagerpg]

You know what was a big deal in the ’90s? Trading cards. And not just for sports, there were dozens of lines, for comic books, bands, movies, serial killers, politicians, artists, you name it. My favorite? The Bernie Wrightson cards from FPG, in part because it was so incredibly hard to find Bernie’s work anywhere else at the time. The FPG cards are interesting because unlike other artist series, a lot of the art was new, created specifically for the cards. The first series wound up with 37 classic paintings, 45 Frankenstein illustrations (pretty much the only way to see them at the time without spending an arm and a leg) and 53 brand new paintings.

The cool thing is, FPG let Bernie go wild with the new material. He could paint whatever he wanted, however he wanted and, for two years, he did just that. Bernie Wrightson: The FPG Years (2022) collects all that original material under one cover and presents them in chronological order so you can sort of see the artist in motion. He gets really big on experiments with markers here and there, but you can also see other tangents and investigations. Imagery repeats — lots of people getting eaten by eel-like fish, lots of werewolves, lots of goop monsters. You can see how he warms up over time, gets red hot and then never really cools off, though you can start to sense some fatigue by the end. All the works are finished, but only a handful feel complete, if that makes sense — this isn’t really a criticism, it is super cool to see so much process from an artist over such a long period of time. Most artists generate this much material in a couple years’ time, they just don’t show all of it to you.

[the-crooked-library]

The Violence of Conformity: on Queerness, Shame, and Vampirism

As we all know, and as I feel I must express again - the metaphorical layers of Nosferatu (2024) consist of several complex, frequently intersecting social themes. Some of them, admittedly, exist a story or two below the surface-level discussions; but that makes them no less influential in regards to the primary plot, and they demand the viewer's exploration just the same.

This is especially true in regards to Eggers' approach to homoeroticism. Its presence within the film itself is unsurprising - implicit, or even explicit, expressions of queerness are a hallmark of gothic (and especially vampire) media. In the case of Nosferatu, this narrative vein provides an undercurrent to almost every aspect of the story; and, because I can't stop thinking about it, I'm making it everyone else's problem.

The Hutters are queer, biting is a metaphor, details under the cut.

To begin with, I must clarify that a queer reading of Nosferatu is not an external introduction. While that lens may be applied to any narrative, given a thorough enough discussion of gender roles, sexuality, and cultural context, it has always been a natural - if sometimes unspoken - component of gothic horror. Elements of it are observable in classics like Frankenstein (Shelley), The Picture of Dorian Gray (Wilde), and even detective fiction offshoots like The Hound of Baskervilles (Doyle), etc; and within the vampire subgenre, it is practically a requirement.

That, like many other things, may be ascribed to Lord Byron and his ever-enduring cultural legacy. In the year 1819, at the Villa Diodati in Switzerland, he challenged his illustrious group of friends to each write a ghost story; and while only two achieved any sort of prominence, that much was sufficient to alter the history of the horror genre. One of these was Mary Shelley's Frankenstein; the other was The Vampyre by Dr. Polidori.* As the title suggests, it was the first Western work of fiction that featured such a monster - and, in doing so, it set the blueprint for countless others to follow. Since then, the genre has been defined by the shape of the dark, hedonistic, and dangerous Lord Ruthven, who was unmistakably modelled after Byron himself.

As a character, Ruthven is confident, dominant, manipulative - and brooding, on occasion. His interpersonal approach is defined by a sort of hypnotizing, seductive, possessive, most certainly ill-advised allure. The overall impression is devilish; and that is indeed the point. Within the thematic framework of The Vampyre, Ruthven represents temptation of all kinds. He never hesitates to indulge himself; and so, once he is bored with cards and brothels, he has no qualms about fixating his appetites on Polidori's main character, Aubrey.

Their relationship is notably homoerotic. Despite - or, perhaps, even complemented by - Polidori's amateurish style, the text demonstrates a genuine, striking sensuality between them. In 1819, this easily fell in line with the rest of Lord Ruthven's characterization; and, following The Vampyre's a rapid rise to popularity, vampirism became a shorthand for any "sinful" - or, socially forbidden - sexual expression.

Given the numerous restrictions of the time, most of which persist today to a degree, this includes not merely abusive or incestuous, but also queer, interracial, and extramarital relations - as well as anything involving kink dynamics. From Ruthven, we get Carmilla (LeFanu), Dracula (Stoker + adaptations), and even relatively recent installments like Lestat (Rice).**

The premise of Nosferatu is no exception. One of the most famous cases of copyright infringement, and a triumphant testament to the historical/preservationist value of media piracy, Murnau's 1922 silent film survives - against explicit orders of the Stoker estate; and, being the literary bastard child of Dracula himself, Orlok maintains many of the same characteristics as his predecessor.

Among these is his implicit and classically vampiric queerness. Like the rest of the film, it is amplified in 2024 - and especially prominent in the first act, in which Thomas Hutter arrives to Orlok's castle.

It is evident from his earlier characterization that Thomas is a repressive type. More so than Aubrey or Jonathan Harker, he keeps his head down, obstinately ignoring the web of fears that shape his daily existence; and it is a monster's narrative duty to expose and realize every single one.

Granted, social circumstances do play a role in this situation. Aubrey has wealth and status; Jonathan Harker has friends and a stable, loving marriage; and Thomas Hutter has neither of those things. Without the benefit of money or community, he lives within a world that is almost as restrictive as Ellen's. His personality is defined by his similarly desperate desire for respect; and his behaviour throughout the film is informed by that underlying pattern. It manifests, most prominently, as a near-compulsive, yet formulaic, adherence to social expectations. He chases after a promotion, marries, gives his wife flowers she didn't want - and, in the same breath, dismisses her "childish fantasies", not out of any malicious intent, but simply because it is supposed to be his duty as a man and husband. It is a destructive cycle of indignity and overcompensation - and I believe it is essential to acknowledge that it's motivated, in great part, by his financial insecurity. As a self-described "pauper," Thomas is anxious to prove himself to his ruthless, unforgiving society - because if he does not, he runs a very real risk of losing even the few comforts he has managed to scrape together.

This threat of destitution is an act of violence. Implicitly, constantly, in consequence of daring to exist, Thomas is being held hostage - unless he conforms.

His sojourn at Orlok's castle is, therefore, peppered with evidence of his superstitions, his social class, and his weakness. Orlok - whom he eventually finds slumbering in the dungeon, the symbolic core of the building itself - is its culmination. What Thomas sees after opening the casket is a nude man, always and never dead, who is trying to take away his wife and imprison him, like a damsel, in a castle. He is horrified; and the implication is blatant. In context with everything else, the deeply sensual, lingering brutality of Orlok's attack is symbolic of the one last thing that Thomas is repressing - and has been for so long that facing it is unthinkable. Still, he can do nothing to resist Orlok - who pushes him to annul his heterosexual marriage, subdues him, bites him; and drinks from him, night after night.

Even during daylight, Thomas fails to destroy his tormentor. In the story sense, he cannot do it because Orlok is a vampire; on the symbolic level, we understand that he cannot kill his own nature.

It goes without saying that this experience is violent; it is both grotesque and shockingly, blatantly lewd. It is traumatic. It is euphoric. It is a form of sexual assault, as far as the biting - a naturally penetrative act - is concerned; and, crucially, it is also Thomas' own repressed desire forcing him to know it. His fear and self-disgust are made flesh in Orlok. Unwanted Desire versus Unwanted Advances; it is a classic gothic paradox - and, in the end, he is unable to accept it. He flees, back to Ellen and the familiar comfort of repression.

Curiously, Ellen herself - who is also distinctly queercoded - presents a depiction of an alternate path.

Like Thomas, she begins the film rigidly repressed and doing her utmost to conform to the established heterosexual social standards. The most prominent factors behind Ellen's oppression are ableism and misogyny - both rooted in things she cannot possibly hide. Her seizures are extremely noticeable to say the least, her neurodivergence affects every conversation she has with the people around her, and all of them perceive her as a woman first and a person never. As the film goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that this emulation of a happy marriage requires constant and agonizing effort to sustain; but while she is also blatantly queercoded, and this queerness definitely contributes to the way she is treated (e.g. by Harding, who views her as a threat to his own marriage), her struggle in maintaining her union with Thomas is not necessarily rooted in a lack of sexual attraction.

The issue is, rather, its "inappropriate" manifestation. Ellen is sexually dominant. Her desires are carnal (and, as the original script implies, mildly sadistic). In a society that expects women to be both innocent and submissive, limits their financial opportunities, and threatens the nonconforming with institutionalization or abandonment, she is caged.

Unlike Thomas, she is aware of that and resents it accordingly - which is not to say that she doesn't feel overwhelming guilt in regards to her sexual inclinations. She absolutely does; and it is interesting to note here that her own pain, in this case, manifests as attacks on her husband and Anna.

This is the part of the story that actively deals with Ellen's queerness. It is evident that she has lived her entire life with the idea that such feelings themselves are sinful; her desires are already unacceptable, even within the sanctity of a heterosexual marriage - thus, actively pursuing another woman would be monstrous. In this interaction, however subtle or unspoken (and, on Anna's part, likely unrecognized), Ellen perceives herself as an aggressor. This is the reason her friend is attacked directly after they share a private, tender moment together - true to the classic gothic vampire tradition, Orlok is, consistently, the direct manifestation of Ellen's shame. He drinks from Anna's breast (the characteristic bite notably favoured by Carmilla - the original lesbian vampire); he destroys the Hardings' perfect nuclear family; and Friedrich Harding blames Ellen and her "fairy ways." Symbolically, their suffering is her punishment - both for feeling a brief moment of queer affection (guilt, fear - direct, setting-driven), and for refusing to indulge it (self-acceptance, rebellion - metaphorical, represented by Orlok).

Still, despite her fear and guilt, Ellen knows that she has done nothing wrong by following her "nature." Her queerness is inherent to her - much like her disability, or her psychic gift; and it is no accident that, among the human characters, the latter is only truly identified by the remarkably eccentric, disgraced, flamboyant, cat-loving, unmarried, bohemian Von Franz. Even though he might be better-adjusted to their surrounding society than her, he still decidedly exists on its outskirts. There is a familiarity of recognition between them, as well as the particular dynamic of a fresh and uncertain fear vs a resigned bitterness that alludes to an interaction between two different queer generations. Even as he is unable to promise her a happy ending, he confirms that she was meant for greater things than the world around them would allow; and that, in my opinion, marks a turning point.

Prior to her conversation with Von Franz, the only validation Ellen has ever received was from Orlok - which posed a moral complication. He was and is a monster, and as such, she believed him to be, fundamentally, a "deceiver." Because of this, she could not bring herself to entirely accept what he was saying; but, conveniently, Von Franz provides an alternate opinion. He stresses that her gift is not only powerful, natural, and inevitable, but also inherently beautiful and sacred.

This is a drastic shift from the way Ellen is normally perceived by humanity. The story consistently demonstrates that the other characters dismiss, infantilize, or condemn her out of turn; however, in this new philosophical context, her night of passion with Orlok - or, the city's only hope for salvation - becomes a supremely important, adult, and holy act. In a spiritual sense, it is equivalent to a marriage; and the film frames it as such.

Like a father, Von Franz gives her away. Despite his well-established monstrosity, Orlok is tender with her to the point of reverence; and she pulls him close - as unnecessary or selfish as that may be. It is, after all, a metaphor. By embracing the Vampire, Ellen embraces the physical representation of everything she had once considered ugly in herself. In regards to her queerness (as well as her psychic power/neurodivergence/disability/personhood), it is a triumphant moment of self-acceptance.

Ellen's arc therefore ends in sublimation. Meanwhile, Thomas is left behind; over the course of the film, he has been unable to let go of the structures that have directed his thinking and behaviour throughout his life - and yet, at the same time, he has also seen them fail, over and over. Knock betrays him, Sievers is out of his depth; Thomas himself cannot be a hero, and Harding - his glittering ideal - crumbles, consumed by grief and madness. The finale, therefore, leaves him on a precipice.

It is a classic moment of deliberation - epitomized, perhaps, by The Matrix (Wachowski Sisters, 1999), in its iconic "red pill/blue pill" scene. As much as the interpretation of it has been twisted over the years, the fundamental, intentional meaning of it is inherently queer; it is about weighing the danger and value of awareness against the meaningless bliss of ignorance. These narrative points are most frequently framed as a beginning - but for Thomas, that is how the movie ends.

He could return to the prison of his daily existence, repress everything he truly feels once more, and suffocate himself in a stranger's life. Before him, Ellen and Orlok depart into a "sea of fog" - an unknown, terrifying, beautiful alternative. It is a promise of freedom and a guarantee of struggle. He sees an example of what he could become, in them and in Von Franz. Their society - and ours, to a degree - is unforgiving of deviation, yes, but the story has also forced him to recognize that acquiescence is not the only option; nor is it actually enough to protect him or his loved ones. Within an oppressive society, safety is always subject to an implicit transaction; and as the finale of Nosferatu makes painfully clear - Orlok may have been in covenant with the Devil, but Harding is the one who sold his soul. The question, now, is whether or not Thomas can bring himself to ignore that.

I know what I would personally wish for him - a full and vibrant life, somewhere on the edges of polite society, that allows him to delve into the eccentricities he never knew he had. He could get into the occult himself; maybe even meet a dashing vampire hunter who would sweep him off his feet and shock his lingering sensibilities every morning (and if the man's a cowboy, even better). However, the point is that we do not know what he will do or what will happen. A life is always in flux. Regardless of our circumstances, there are still a few things we get to choose for ourselves, and a precipice is also sometimes an opportunity for a leap of faith.

I hope, most affectionately, that Thomas Hutter jumps off a cliff.

*POLIDORI - Dr. John William Polidori, who may indeed be considered the creator of the modern vampire genre, graduated from Ampleforth College in 1815 with a thesis on sleepwalking. It's not exactly relevant; but, in the context of Nosferatu, rather apt. I would've really liked to see his thoughts on it, seeing as it's such a perfect intersection.

**LESTAT - being blond, Lestat does stand out from the primary archetype in the visual sense; but the current discussion is more in the realm of personality.