#No Way Out (1987)

[francis-ford-kofola]

Please look at this poster for the movie No Way Out with Kevin Costner, Sean Young and Gene Hackman that looks a bit like the I consent meme

[bulbabutt]

april(s) on the move, but a quick check in back home and a chat about modern technology, and how we use it to our benefit ;3

rise april going to channel 6 | other comics in this series

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 7

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

((TW for this part; period typical slurs and internalized homophobia. Read the tags before clicking readmore if you want the details))

Steve has been a porcelain doll for seven weeks when disaster strikes.

"What is that," Jeff says, because even though the words are in an order which would suggest that it's a question, the tone of voice Jeff uses decidedly is not questioning.

"What is whaaa-AH! Nothing! It's nothing!" Eddie, who was torso deep into his closet throwing things around to find his backup amp cord, turns to look at what Jeff was talking about, and is now launching himself across his room to stand between Jeff and Porcelain Steve. Porcelain Steve, who Eddie had lain on his bed, propped slightly on a pillow, headphones carefully perched on his little head, hooked to a cassette player currently playing the first hour of last week's Top 40 countdown that Eddie had taped for him (all three hours of it, leaving out the chatter of the radio show host. He'd had to use two tapes to get it all).

"Nothing sure looks a lot like a doll in headphones, Munson," Jeff has an amazing poker face but Eddie's certain he can see a bit of judgement underneath the carefully blank expression Jeff is wearing.

"I don't know what you're talking abo- hey! Hey, no, no, don't!" Eddie tries to bodily block Jeff when he moves forward and the two end up wrestling, a match that Eddie almost wins, if not for the hazard that is his messy room. He gets Jeff walked almost to the door before he steps wrong on something, ankle rolling and sending him down sideways. He clutches at Jeff but can't make purchase and Jeff, the bastard, does fuck-all to try and catch him. Instead, Jeff leaps out of arm's length, then lunges onto the bed as Eddie collapses to his floor.

Eddie frantically tries to stand and, in his haste, ends up with his feet tangled in a pile of dirty laundry and that sends him crashing down again, this time forward onto his hands and knees, so he gives up on standing and crawls the few short feet to the bed, finally looking up to see that the damage has been done.

Jeff has picked up Steve, holding him inches from his own face, eyes squinted in suspicion. Eddie is frozen, horrified and afraid, and can't bring himself to do anything as Jeff examines Steve closely, turning him around, poking his torso, flipping him upside down to examine his shoes more thoroughly. It's only when Jeff reached for the shirt, pinching the hem of it between two fingers that Eddie kicks back into action.

He lunges up, one knee on the bed, leaning over to grab Steve and yank him from Jeff's grip. His first instinct is to throw Steve over his shoulder, out of sight out of mind mentality, but as soon as he does, he realizes his mistake and twists, lunging to catch Steve in midair. He does manage to catch Steve, but it sends him bouncing off his dresser and almost back to the floor before he manager to regain his balance, where he proceeds to cradle Steve to his chest, which is heaving from the adrenaline, wrestling match, and subsequent dive after Steve.

Jeff is giving him a concerned look but something else piques his interest; Jeff reaches over and picks up the headphones, holding them up to one ear. His face goes through every emotion a human could possibly experience in less than fifteen seconds as he listens to whatever track was at the forty-ish minute mark on the Top 40 countdown.

Slowly, Jeff lowers the headphones, letting them drop to the bed before he gives Eddie a new, more judgmental, yet infinitely more concerned, look. "Eddie. What. The fuck."

Honestly, he's not sure there's anything he can say in response.

"Why- I don't... are you okay, man?" Jeff sounds both scared for Eddie, and scared of him, at the same time.

"I'm fine," Eddie manages to squeak out.

"Eddie," Jeff says seriously, "this is not fine. This is- this is insane behavior. You know that, right?"

"I've no idea what you mean," Eddie doesn't even know what he's defending himself from but his default response to anything is to defend himself. He grips Steve tightly around the torso with one hand and then moves both his hands to be behind his back so Jeff will stop staring at Steve.

"I mean this fuckin' insane shrine you have dedicated to Steve fucking Harrington. How did you even get a doll that looks like him. Did you- did you make that?"

Fuck. Holy fuck. What can he say to defend himself here? Is there a single way for him to come out of this not sounding deranged? If he agrees, let's Jeff's drawn conclusion be the truth, then that's all but confirmation to Steve about his big fat crush, so when Steve's back to being Steve he'll never look at Eddie again. Jeff might think he needs mental help, but he'll be here for Eddie. If he tries to deny the accusation, then he'll need an explanation. He'll have to tell Jeff something that make him seem less like a creepy stalker, but what? He can't tell the truth, not without letting everyone know he's going to tell Jeff. There's a whole other secret he'd have to let out to even have a chance of Jeff believing him.

Jeff must take his silence for acceptance or guilt, because he's speaking again. "I.... man, this is not healthy. Please tell me you aren't, like, hoarding a lock of his hair or his clothes or something."

Involuntarily, damningly, his eyes dart to the closet, where several of Steve's sweaters hang from when he'd borrowed them and never returned them. And it's not like Steve doesn't have several of Eddie's own articles of clothing, like his battle vest and a few shirts. But Jeff doesn't know they easily, willingly, swap clothes, so his eyes go wide and dart towards the closet, as if he can pick out which pieces belong to Steve on sight.

Actually, he probably can.

"This really isn't what it looks like," Eddie says because he has to say something. Being silent is too incriminating.

"I don't think you're aware of what this looks like," Jeff says, wiggling himself off of Eddie's bed to stand at the foot of it. "Of all the boys in Hawkins.... I knew you liked Steve but this is.... creepy. That doll looks so much like him that I recognized it. Does Steve know you're in love with him, or is this like a way to process your crush without having to-"

"Jeff!" Eddie yells, mortified. He can feel his whole face heat up, knows he must be bright red. Because Jeff just said, out loud and for Steve to hear, the thing that Eddie very much hasn't even said out loud to himself, even if he knows how he feels deep down.

Jeff must know he's overstepped some invisible boundary he wasn't even aware of because his face immediately shows regret. He takes a step forward and Eddie takes a step back.

Immediately, Jeff stops his forward momentum. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm sorry."

When Eddie answers, his voice sounds like he's been eating gravel, "Just, can you go wait in the living room? I'll be right out, and we can talk, or whatever, but can you just..."

A nod, and then Jeff is gone, closing the door behind him.

With shaking hands, Eddie brings Steve back to the front of him. Looks down at him. He's not even aware he's crying until he watches his tears mark Steve's tiny polo. He can't keep holding Steve. Can't keep looking at him. Not when- not when his best friend just outed him in the worst way possible. And Eddie can't even be upset or hurt about it because Jeff didn't know. He's teased Eddie about his crushes before, and in the safety of his own room, there was no reason for Jeff to have to watch what he was saying.

Even knowing that Steve is okay with Robin, loves her anyway, without the ability to confirm that Steve doesn't hate him right now, Eddie's going to freak out. But he can't. Jeff is waiting in the living room, and the band is waiting back at Gareth's. This was just- they were supposed to just grab the amp cable and get back, a fifteen-minute job at most, and now.

Now Eddie is staring down at Steve, willing himself to not have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have heard it like that, it s-should have come from me. It should- you-I'm sorry," Eddie gently underhand throws Steve onto the center of the bed. He lands face up and Eddie sinks to the floor because he can't stand anymore, and he can't really breath.

Steve knows Eddie's a fucking faggot now, and that he wants Steve, and there's no way he'll get to keep the friendship they had before this. There's no universe in which Steve isn't creeped out by this information. There has never been an instance where a straight boy found out about his crush on them and didn't abandon him. Not always cruelly, he'll admit. He's had friends that learned and just... slid from his life with no words and no fuss. Eddie just never spoke to them again because they never came back around, but they also never outed him.

That's what will happen with him and Steve. He'll quit inviting Eddie around, or calling when he's bored, and eventually it will get to the point that Eddie only sees him at BBQ's that Joyce drags him to.

Fuck. FUCK!

He's not sure how long he's on the floor but eventually, he finds the will to get back up and resume digging through his closet to find the amp cord. It doesn't take long, he was ridiculously close to finding it earlier, it seems.

Before leaving his room, he picks back up the cassette player and headphones. Silence comes from them, so he pops the tape out before flipping it to the B side and popping it back in. He puts the headphones around Steve's head again and presses play, doing his best to not actually look at Steve. He'll just have another breakdown if he does.

He trudges out of his room, closing the door behind himself before taking the short walk to the living room, where Jeff waiting on the couch, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin, eyes faraway as he stares towards the wall in front of him.

"Hey," Eddie says, to get his attention.

"Hey," Jeff says, sitting up straight and turning towards Eddie. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the fucking psycho here," he sighs, leaning sideways against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest, hand clutching at the amp cord just for something to ground him.

"Forget that, whatever I did, or said, or whatever, you were- when you yelled my name. You looked terrified. Of me," Jeff almost whispers the last sentence, and if not for the stark silence in the trailer, Eddie wouldn't have heard.

"Not of you, Jeff," Eddie whispers back, but his voice doesn't stay quiet because 'quiet' isn't a thing Eddie does easily or often. "Of... of myself, and these- of how I feel- I'm a goddamned faggot and now that Ste- when Steve finds out I'll lose him! Like I've lost every fucking person who ever even suspected I was a fuckin' queer!"

Silence stretches between them, enough to make Eddie fidget, dropping his crossed arms to twist the amp cord about anxiously with both his hands.

"Look, man, I don't know what's, like, the appropriate thing to say so I'm just going for the honest thing. You got me. You'll never lose me. And all those other assholes that you think you lost? You're wrong. They lost you. And if Steve Harrington is gonna be another one of those, then you aren't losing him. 'Cause he was never really in your corner to begin with."

If this were anyone else, with the exception of his uncle, he would be able to hold it together better. But it's Jeff. His best friend. Who never believed Eddie committed unspeakable horrors over Spring Break last year. Who didn't question the strange, new friends he suddenly had afterwards; who accepted as the only explanation a softly spoken 'they saved me' and that was enough. Who had said 'ok, cool' in response to Eddie telling him he was gay, years ago now, and continued trying to find out if Eddie had a secret relationship, switching girlfriend for boyfriend like it wasn't a big deal (Eddie did not have a secret relationship; his good mood that week was the result of snooping for his birthday present and finding the guitar hidden under his uncle bed).

It's Jeff. So, Eddie does the most metal, manly thing he can and bursts into tears, blindly reaching for Jeff and pulling him off the couch so he can bear hug him and sob into his shirt.

"There, there, you big baby," Jeff rubs his back soothingly, "let it out. Then pull your sorry ass together, because Gareth and Brian are going to think we died in a car crash on the way here if we take much longer."

"Ah, fuck," Eddie manager to say around the sniffling he's trying to get control of, "you're right."

"You good, though?"

"Uh, I will be."

Jeff nods and steps back. "How about this. We go to practice, and then you can come to my place tonight and we can like, hangout and talk. If that's what you want."

He's already nodding as he says, "yeah. That would be good. I- uh, I have something to do after practice, but yeah, after that I'll come over."

Eddie tosses the amp cable to Jeff after they climb into the van and head off.

Halfway there, Jeff says, "you know Gareth and Brian are in your corner, too. If you ever feel like telling them one day."

"One day," Eddie agrees, "but today has already been... a lot."

Practice goes well, with some ribbing for their tardiness allowed. If Gareth and Brian notice Eddie's been crying recently, they keep it to themselves. Which is good, because Eddie cannot handle one more thing today.

A promise to meet up with Jeff later and Eddie's back home.

Back to where he left Steve, who will be laying in silence on his bed because it's been well over two hours since he and Jeff left, and the tape only held an hours' worth of music on each side. Back to the nightmare of not knowing if Steve hates him now, or if Eddie's, and this is the most likely scenario, being a bit overdramatic.

His uncle is home, so he greets him, asks after his day, gets told dinner is Fend For Yourself Night (which just means leftovers or a TV dinner), and gets asked about Steve. Because of course he does.

"You sure he went on a vacation willingly with those parents of his, and he ain't actually kidnapped and trapped somewhere?"

That's a little bit too true. If only Wayne knew. "Well, no. I'm not sure. All I know is what he said when he left."

Wayne gives him a look. One Eddie is used to seeing, that says 'I know more than you think but I'm waiting for you to tell me' and Eddie's a little afraid of what Wayne thinks he knows. So, instead of prying that box open, Eddie just says he's tired and goes to his room.

Steve is exactly where Eddie left him.

Suddenly, without reason or logic, Eddie is angry. He's so pissed at Steve for being gone for this long. For having transformed in the first place. For not being able to assure him they'll still be friends, regardless of Eddie's stupid crush.

He snatches Steve off the bed, hand clamping around one of Steve's arms and his torso so he can hold him up with one hand. Steve's face, permanently stuck into a blank expression, looks back. Even knowing that Steve sees and hears through this thing, Eddie's so angry at the doll. If Steve hadn't been turned into this stupid thing, if Eddie wasn't so helplessly in love with him, this wouldn't have happened. Eddie could have taken his own time telling Steve, instead of hearing his deepest secret spilled easily from Jeff's lips. Instead of this not knowing what Steve is thinking, or how he feels. Is he recoiling in disgust at the fact Eddie's making him look at his face? Or is Eddie being awarded the same kindness as Robin, a quiet acceptance that won't change their friendship?

Eddie doesn't know that answer and he hates it.

He's so angry with himself because he should know better. He's forcing his own insecurities onto Steve, about acceptance and caring, when nothing Steve's done since they've become friends is prove that he'll always be Eddie's friend and not even the apocalypse could change that.

"I'm going to hang out with Jeff, so you're gonna be alone a bit longer. Or maybe I should drop you off at Robin's when I go," Eddie goes to toss Steve back on the bed when something pinches his palm. It's a startling sharp pain, quick to fade, but it's surprising enough for Eddie to let go.

Eddie watches, horrified, as he falls to the floor. He twists in the air, landing with a dull thump and cracking sound on his left arm before falling onto his back.

"Shit. Shit! Fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Eddie is crouched, already in the process of reaching for Steve when he freezes.

There is a crack on Steve's left arm, a line that starts above his elbow on the inside of his arm and runs down and across his arm to his hand, where Steve's pinky finger is gone. Looking slightly to the side, Eddie can see the small porcelain piece that Steve is missing laying on the ground next to him. Eddie's own hand is hovering in the air above Steve, shaking.

This can't be- how did- Eddie wracks his brain. Was the crack there already? Did Eddie cause the crack when he bounced off his dresser earlier? When did it happen? Does that fucking matter when it's Eddie who broke a piece off him? If Steve didn't hate him before, he's got to now. Eddie doesn't have time to panic about this, he's got to- El. El can talk to Steve. Find out if he's okay. What if breaking him-

Eddie launches himself up and to his dresser, grabbing at the Walkie up there. He pulls the antenna up, clicks it on and tries not to actually shout as he says, "Code Red! Code fucking Red!" He lets off the talk button, counts to seven in his head, enough time, he reasons, for someone to respond before he repeats the process. "Code Red!! Code Red!"

He repeats this process for three minutes with no response. Where the fuck is everyone!? How is he supposed to- Oh! The phone!

He tears down the hall and to the phone. He must look a right state, because Wayne looks very concerned and is halfway to standing up when Eddie gets to the phone beside him. He yanks the phone up and dials the number for the Byers-Hopper household, holding up a shaking finger to Wayne, a silent plea to give him a moment.

It rings and rings and rings before the answering machine kicks in. Eddie presses down on the disconnect button before dialing the Wheelers' number next.

"Hello?"

"Mike! Code Red! Where the fuck is everyone and why aren't they answering!?"

"What?"

"Code Red! Where's Nancy. Put Nancy on."

"Dude, slow down, what's-"

"I broke St-it. I broke it and someone needs to get El here now. Code Red does not mean ask questions, Mike! It means Code. Fucking. Red."

"Shit, shit, right! I'll get Nancy and we'll get everyone- just- we'll be there soon."

Eddie slams the phone down and has to meet his uncle's eye now.

"Eddie. What is goin' on?"

Eddie inhales a breath and can feel his lower lip quivering. "It's- can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not the one hurt, or in trouble, or- it's not me, ok. I just-"

"Yer shakin' like a leaf boy. What's got you so spooked?"

Eddie just shakes his head and flees back to his room, slamming the door shut between him and his uncle. He can't bring himself to cross the room to Steve. He slides himself down the door to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up to hug.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm sorry."

[themyscirah]

Complaining abt Suicide Squad yet again but the fact that they have Waller exposing the alien community to space racist attacks and talking abt how she got to her position through deceit and being a terrible person and stuff is just. Ahsfiwueh JUST SAY YOU DONT KNOW WALLER.

Anyways literally the 3rd mission of the Squad ever (and the first framed as smth Waller picked and not orders from above) was the Squad discrediting and stopping a rogue vigilante who was only arresting POC and funneling white people into white supremacy groups (of which he was the most prominent member) in SUICIDE SQUAD #4. and it's explicitly framed as this mission being personal for Waller that she's hiding from the government bc its illegal like. Guys. Please why are we having her incite (space bc comics) racist attacks now

Also the whole "Amanda got her position through deceit and being a terrible person" NO. she KEPT her position through being shitty and playing complicated political games!!! She wasn't always that way like there is a difference and it is IMPORTANT ppl PLEASEEEE. In Secret Origins #14 we learn Amanda's backstory and she used to be a normal, caring person! Like even after she entered into working in government and politics she wasn't automatically morally bankrupt like please people. She was originally given control of the Squad by Reagan (*sigh* 80s comics...) to distract and get rid of her because she was so successful at pushing progressive social policy in Congress. Acting like she's this static pillar of evil is such a waste of her character and so fucking uninteresting and disrespectful to her arc it drives me MAD.

Like I am NOT saying Waller is all sunshine and rainbows, she fucking SUCKS (said w love <3) but like there's a human being there. It's a progression, she has a character arc like please, DC, please!!! They've fucked up Waller so bad and made her so opaque and uninteresting she can't even be the protagonist of her own story for fucks sake!

Like I don't know how many times I have to scream it until DC hears me or remembers but WALLER IS THE MAIN CHARACTER OF SUICIDE SQUAD. ITS HER BOOK. yet right now she's a cutout to be used as the villain wherever the writers please. Even in her book we get none of her perspective really displayed, no exploration of her thoughts with any kind of understanding of the role she traditionally has played and was made to play in the story.

[idioticsky]

Lost Boys Backstory: Marko

Word count: 669

Hello, lost boys fandom. Please accept my peace offering of what I think Marko's backstory could be.

Background: I imagine him living in Messina, Italy, and being about 17 by the time the earthquake of 1908 hit there, anyways onto the story

WARNING: Implications of children dying

--------------------------------

Marko lied there, trapped under what remained of the bakery by his home. His eyes stung from all the debris; his ears rang, muffling out all the screaming and crying from the tragedy around him. He tried to stand, to search for his family, only to look back and find his legs crushed and bleeding under the rubble.

--------------------------------

The day was like any other, Marko waking up to his sister in her little pink dress, tugging at his pillow, only for him to cover his head with a blanket. "Marko's not home right now. Try again later," he joked, earning a pout from the little girl. He'd spend his morning getting ready to help his mother run their craft store while his father went out to start his rounds delivering mail around Messina.

Marko got to work, moving boxes and suggesting different materials to customers. "Marko!," a little boy dressed in a simple shirt and trousers yelled, running over to Marko and drawing his attention away from his work.

"Yes, Angelo?," Marko bent down to be on the same level as the little boy, "what's up?"

"Can you take come and play with me, Antonio, and Maria? We're really, really bored," Angelo asked as he held onto his older brothers hand, having Marko's heart melt a little. "Wish I could, but mom needs all the help she can get today," Marko turned back to the box in his arms, "Why don't you go and find some treats out in the town? I'm sure mom would give you some money to get them if you ask really nicely," he smiled before turning back to his work.

--------------------------------

Marko took another shaking breath, the dust and debris burning his lungs. "Help..! Help me..! Please..," he cried, trying to have someone, anyone, hear him.

--------------------------------

"Marko, could you go fetch your brothers and sister for me? I want them home before it gets dark outside," his mother asked. "Yeah, I'll go find them, Mama," Marko replied before he set off to go find his siblings out by a bakery two streets down. As he walked, Marko could tell that something was... off. He couldn't tell what, but he knew he needed to find his siblings soon and get them home. Marko soon started to run, the uneasy feeling sinking in deeper as he bolted for the bakery. Then, the cause of his uneasiness hit. The ground started to shake, throwing him off balance as he watched the people on the street start to worry.

--------------------------------

Marko soon finally heard a noise: footsteps, and they were coming closer. "Help..! Please..!," he called out, his eyes finally starting to fuzz as the figure moved closer. Then, after what felt like an eternity, it faded to black.

--------------------------------

The earth continued to shake as Marko tried to run. Buildings started to fall, roads began to crack, and people cried out to be saved, but all Marko could think of was finding his little brothers and little sister.

"Maria! Antonio! Angelo?! Where are you?!," he cried out, his mind racing as he saw the glimpse of a small, pink dress. He ran as fast as his legs could take him. "Maria!" Marko yelled, looking up to see the building coming down; it was coming down too fast to push her out of the way. In a moment of panic, Marko ran to hug his sister, using his body to shield her from the building coming down on them.

--------------------------------

Marko came back around to a man carrying him away from the rubble. He had groomed brown hair and dark eyes and was dressed like one of the wealthy customers that occasionally visited the craft store. Marko soon noticed him talking to a blonde boy who didn't look to be much older than himself. He couldn't understand what they were saying, their voices sounding like they were underwater, then he passed out once again, knowing that his home was nothing more than a dusty memory now.

[thatturtleleon]

Id defend them in every universe, they did nothing wrong ever

[starsfromtoulon]

javert in the musicals really be like There 👏 Is 👏No👏 Mistake👏 (walks off stage to immediately be proven wrong)

[whattraintracks]

I can't get over the complete and utter hypocrisy of Leonardo climbing-through-windows-is-more-heroic Ninja Turtle turning around in Chōjin Densetsu-hen and asking Kinzō why they're all climbing the castle walls instead of taking the stairs.

As if you are not the same brand of idiot, my good sir!!

[bd-wlf]

something about Maurice(1987) and how it made me realize i do not want to spend my life alone and that i do in fact crave deeper more emotional bonds with those around me, the type of bond that blurs the lines of platonic and romantic like i want to know who I'm spending time with. some homoeroticism bullshit yknow?

and something about Sherlock Holmes(specifically Elementary) that made me realize I'm actually aro-ace and that I've been repressing those feelings. and more so that i really really want a QPR, someone to go crazy for in a platonic way yknow? someone who just gets me yeah?

[jasmines-library]

Cry, Little Sister.

- - - - -☽───⛧ ༺♰༻ ⛧───☾ - - - -

“Drink it. Be one of us.”

———————————————————————

Summary: You’d lived in Santa Carla all your life and it was boring. That was until you and your brothers discovered that there might be vampires about. When an attempt to kill the lost boys goes awry, and you end up becoming a vampire yourself, things become very messy when you join your brothers -who are vampire hunters- in a second attempt to rid your town of killers where you sacrifice your secret to save your friends, your brothers are not forgiving.

Warnings: Near death experience, blood, violence, killing, vampires, staking.

Word Count: 6.1k

Note: It’s finally here! This was a result of my poll that I posted a few weeks back, I’m sorry it’s taken a while. This is a lot longer that I planned but overall I’m pretty proud of it. Apologies if there are any major mistakes, or the formatting is off, it i was doing this on my phone and it was playing up. I redid it a few times but by that point it was 1am and I couldn’t be asked. Please let me know. I hope you enjoy.

Santa Carla was odd. You’d lived there all your life and yet you still couldn’t shake the weirdness that clung to your skin as you roamed the streets or the strange smell that lingered in the humid summer air. The boardwalk was busy during the day, but it was Santa Carla’s night life that really captured your interest. Everywhere became filled with colourful lights and interesting people and the sound of engines revving that ricocheted down alleyways. They were all unique characters and they appeared to be around your age. They were spritely and even in the few times you’ve encountered them there never seemed to be a dull moment. You never seemed to see them anywhere other than the boardwalk; that was unless you were looking for them intentionally. You’d spoken to them a few times, you’d occasionally bump into them on your break, though not much was ever exchanged between you. It was a rare occasion for them to come into your store. It made sense though, you didn’t think that comic books would potentially interest someone of their physique, but nevertheless here they were, running their fingers across the rows of coloured paper. As they moved, others seemed to slink away; there was an unsaid air around these boys. Your brothers thought they were vampires. You could see their harsh gazes from the other side of the store: firm and unforgiving. They were both in their mid-teens and wore a constant expression of fatigue on their face; a result of staying up too late brainstorming stupid ideas to take the vampires down. You and your brothers spent a long time researching and planning. You knew there had to be an explanation to the hundreds of missing posters plastered on every nook and cranny of the boardwalk. It was fun, sure, but you seeked something else. Your body itched for something different. A release. You knew it wasn’t a waste of time though. Vampires were tricky, they struck when they wanted and when you least expect it. They’re difficult to survive, but not impossible. You just have to be smarter than them. As they crept around the store, you found your hand edging its way towards the vial of holy water you kept tucked in between your belt. One of them, who had wild blond hair and looked almost like Twisted Sister, chucked a handful of 25c comics into the counter. He leaned forwards onto the splintering wood with a grin on his face. As he pulled out a handful of coins and tossed them next to his comics, his friends sauntered over. They were all tall, wild and their eyes twinkled mischievously. You slipped the change into the register and began to package the handful of comics when Twisted Sister had begun to lose interest, and took to wrestling with another blonde who wore a bold patchwork jacket. One of them glanced at the others before taking a long drag from his cigarette. This one wasn’t as tall as some of the others. His hair was bleached to the point it was almost white and it was cut so that his mullet rested just above his shoulders and clung to his neck.

“So. What’s your name doll?” His voice was husky and something about it compelled you to answer.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He drawled, rolling your name around his mouth. “Hm.”

“You gonna tell me yours or…?”

“David.” He breathed, taking another drag. “That’s Paul. Marko. Dwayne.” He gestured to the other three. At the mention of his name, Paul rushed over and scooped up his comics, winking at you. Your fingers traced the rim of the holy water. It was cool to the touch and you could feel the individual rivets of the plastic lid as you circled it. Your hand slid back into your pocket.

“You free tonight?” David asked suddenly, cocking his head. He paused for a minute as though he was trying to find the right words. Or make up the right lie. “I only ask because we were thinking of having a little fun by the boardwalk. You look bored.”

Edgar and Alan edged closer, weaving between the boxes of comics, craning their heads to listen in. You smirked. “I get off at 10.”

“Perfect.” David said smugly. “We’ll see you at 10.” With that, the four of them turned and left, Paul swinging the plastic bag beside him. People scattered away to form a path out of the shop. The whole store seemed to sigh in relief once they were out of sight. It didn’t take long for your brothers to approach with volatile looks set firmly upon their faces.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Edgar slammed his palms on the counter, causing the wood to rattle on its uncertain frame. His face was set in a hard stare, his eyes bore into yours, covered slightly by a loose bunch of hair that spilled over the top of his bandana. “You’re not only conversing with the enemy now, but you’re partying with them too?”

A smile crept onto your face and you shook your head, pulling loose the clear vial and placing it in front of him. “Think smarter. Not harder, little brother. You doubt me too much.”

~~~

By the time you’d finished your shift, and you had managed to convince your brothers to go home, the crowds had died down slightly, though you could still feel the heavy rhythm of the bass that shook the ground coming from the concert on the boardwalk and the screams of thrillseekers on the roller coasters. The smell of food lingered in the air and the soft hues of cracking fires danced around the beach. You found the boys gathered around a fire just besides the pier. Rock music blared from the stereo half buried in the sand as you arrived. Paul and Marko were prancing around, banging their heads to the fast pace of the music, kicking sand around as they went, sometimes aiming it at each other if they felt spiteful. David stood, brooding in the corner, obscured by the light, he seemed deep in concentration. His blue eyes darkened when he saw you approaching. It was Dwayne who welcomed you, moving over from his perch on a log to make space from you. Marko slid in beside you, snatching a joint from Paul before offering it around. You took a drag and passed it on.

“So. Y/N.” Dwayne said. “How long have you been in Santa Carla?”

Someone's arm snaked around your waist, the leather was cool, but the hand that came from it was icy cold and caused your skin to prick up. “I’ve lived here all my life.” You told him simply.

“Uh-huh. And uh,” he furrowed his brow, turning to face you, “how long have you been hunting Vampires?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Marko removed his arm from behind you and pulled out the vial of holy water. “You really think this is gonna stop us?” He pouted mockingly before unscrewing the lid, tipping out the contents into the sand and throwing the bottle back at you with an unexpected force. It landed harshly in your lap. You scrambled back, reaching for the small pocket knife your brothers insisted you keep on you. It wouldn’t do much but maybe delay them for a couple of seconds. Your hands patted around aimlessly for it in your pocket, frantically searching for it until David dangled it in front of your face. Trying to turn and run, your body collided with Dwayne’s chest.

“Leaving so soon?” Looking up, you were met with his golden eyes and bared fangs. He gripped you by the arms tightly, whipping you round and pulling you close to him so you couldn’t move. You struggled pointlessly in his grasp, trying to get away from the wild faces that mocked you. David traced the knife along your jawline.

“Such a pity.”

“You’re such a babe Y/N. It’s a shame you’ll go to waste.” Paul said, circling round you, studying you closely. “I bet you would have fit right in.”

“It’s a shame you stuck with your brothers.” Marko said. “You would have made a powerful ally.”

Something in your mind clicked, and it was almost as though the world had suddenly become clear, as though this was the obvious answer to everything. “So make me.”

~

You shifted the bottle between the palms of your clammy hands. It felt foreign, yet so right at the same time. The jewels glistened in the light of the fire, distracting you from the crimson liquid that sloshed around inside. David's eyes bore into yours, it made your skin crawl and your body shift uncomfortably. You could feel the other three pairs of eyes on you, soaking in the anticipation of your next move.

“Drink it.” David urged. “Be one of us.”

You twisted the cork from the top of the bottle and watched as the people around you perked up at the smell of it. You placed the cold glass to your lips and without a second thought, took a swig from the bottle.

“Bravo!” David cheered, pulling the bottle away from your lips and taking a sip of it for himself. There was something about that moment that made you feel whole. The thrill you had been wanting, this was it. Your face lit up with a wild grin and Paul slung his arm around your shoulder.

“Welcome to the club.”

It was a strange feeling. The world seemed different, sharper like someone had begun to focus a camera. The rest of the night went by in a blur, you remember partying and music, but not much else besides that. You don’t know how, but soon you were wiped out in your bed.

~~~

“Get up.”

The sun that pierced through the window caused your head to throb and your eyes to burn as you struggled to adjust to it. Alan stood over your bed, a pillow raised in his hands as Edgar tugged open your curtains letting the remainder of the light flood into the room. You groaned and covered your eyes with your arm as the headache increased tenfold.

“Jesus, Y/N.” Alan complained as you sat up slowly. “What the hell were you doing last night?”

“Hmm?” you asked groggily. The light was messing with your head.

“Did you get them?” Edgar asked, rather excitedly.

“No.” You shook your head, fumbling towards your bathroom. Your brothers were close behind. “Give me time. I’ll get to know them.” You stood in the doorway to the bathroom, leaning against the frame. Edgar narrowed his eyes at you and watched you closely. “Can I go?”

His gaze lingered for a moment, but he grunted and turned away tugging his older brother with him. When you closed the bathroom door, turning the lock behind you, you splashed your face with water from the sink. It was cool against your skin and trailed off in little droplets. When you peered up at your face in the mirror, it was paler than usual as though it were winter and not the scolding summer Santa Carla was currently facing. Besides a slight paleness in your skin, you looked fine, though your head was pounding like a constant, droning beat of a drum. You squinted, trying to remember last night's events. Something about it made your skin crawl. You had this gut feeling that something wasn’t going to end well, that someone was going to get hurt. You swallowed thickly. Your brothers were safe. You could protect them if the time came. If you failed.

It took a while, but when you finally left the shelter of your house, the sun had long gone past its peak point in the sky and was dipping below the horizon. How long had you been asleep? It was Saturday, the peak of the summer and so the boardwalk was crammed. The shop was busy and the small fan at the back of the store did nothing against the sweltering heat. Your eyes kept dancing around the room in search of wild blond hair, or the sheen of leather but to your avail, they only glazed across mops of mousy hair and beach wear. One person did catch your eye however. He was young, perhaps your brothers’ age and was browsing the superman comics. His face was soft and adorned with freckles. It was his clothes however that struck you the most. They were sheek and brightly coloured, with odd patterns. Clearly not from around here. You watched as your brothers approached him closely, trying to engage him in conversation. Outside, a group had gathered, pushing and shoving each other wildly. Emerging from behind the desk, you made your way closer to them and the teenage boys.

“Where the hell are you from,” Edgar asked rather unenthusiastically. “Krypton?”

“Phoenix. Actually.” He replied. You stopped in your tracks near them, listening in discretely. Edgar moved, with his hands in his pockets, towards a row of comics. He plucked one from the rack and handed it to the boy. It was a pale blue edition of ‘Vampires Everywhere’.

The boy tutted and tried to hand it back to him. “I don’t like horror comics.”

“You’ll like this one, Mr Phoenix. It could save your life.”

Alan opened his mouth to speak, but the group outside noticed an opening and grabbed a handful of comics, taking off down the street. “Hey!” You cried, running after them. Edgar and Alan were right behind you, abandoning their new companion.

When the night had finally dulled down, you took a stroll along the beach. The sand shifted between your toes as you wandered. You weren’t entirely sure where you wanted to go, you were restless, wanting to be nowhere and everywhere all at once. When you saw the bikes knelt up against the railing however, you paused making your way over to the four boys. “Incoming.” Dwayne’s head snapped up as you approached, alerting everyone else to your presence. His eyes glistened under the moonlight. Paul and Marko were onto you within seconds, guiding you over to where they stood.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” David smirked. He seemed in a better mood tonight. Perhaps he felt less threatened now you were a half.

“I never received an invite.” You said, leaning against the cool metal of the railing.

“You’re welcome anytime, babe.” Paul smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“How you feelin’?” Marko chuffed, watching you closely.

Nodding, you smiled. “Ok.”

David swung his leg over his bike and took a seat. “You up for a ride?”

~

Out of all the places you expected David to take you, this was not it. It was an old hotel, sunken into the cliffs of Hudson's Bluff. It had clearly been like this for a while, you had heard the stories when you were younger, yet you had always heeded by the keep out signs posted out front. Clearly those didn’t interest the vampires as they whisked you straight down the narrow stairs, lighting barrels with a splint. When the fire cast a warm glow around the cave, you could really study its beauty. In the centre of the room was an old fountain, once a feature of the hotel. Though the room was messy, there was a sort of structure to it, with beams and tunnels leading off into the darkness. There were posters and cassettes strewn all over the room, likely Paul or Marko’s and the odd books neatly filed away. David took his perch on a wheelchair in the centre of the room. What surprised you the most about the space was the young, dark haired girl who made her way out from behind a lace curtain when she heard the rhythm of the guitar. An even smaller boy, no older than 10 clutched the ruffled of her purple skirt.

“Star.” David called out to the girl. She made her way into the room. “Come and join us. This is Y/N. The girl we told you about.”

She nodded at you bluntly, guiding the small boy into the room. His hair reminded you of your brothers, it was dark and fell over his face. To your surprise he came and sat down beside you. “Hi.” He grinned a toothy smile up at you.

You smiled back at him. “Hi.”

The boy cocked his head as though he were trying to purge you of your secrets. “They all seem to really like you.” He blurted. “David told me that-”

“Laddie.” Star interrupted, reprimanding him as you would either of your brothers. “Leave the poor girl alone. I’m sorry.”

“No, No. It’s okay.” You reached out a hand for her to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

“Star.”

There was an awkward silence that passed between you two, despite the fact that the room was filled with laughter and loud music. The small boy, Laddie, had stood up to prance around with Dwayne.

“Can I ask you something?” Star blurted out.

“Sure.”

“You’re a hunter, right?”

“I guess… I was.”

“Then why’d you drink it? Knowing what they are. What we are?”

“I wanted to protect my family, but…” You hesitated, unsure how to phrase how you felt. “When I'm around these people, I feel… whole. Like the excitement I've wanted my whole life has finally happened. When I’m around these people, I feel that.”

Star said nothing, just watched you close. She couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly put themselves through that, yet she seemed to soften a little at the thought that you wanted to protect your brothers. From across the room, David watched from his throne. He watched as you and Star exchanged stories, listening with his keen ears to the way your voice fluctuated when you got excited. He found a smile creeping onto his face. Perhaps you were more than they bargained for.

~~~

Tension was high in the air as the old blue Ford pulled up to the cliff. Sam and Michael had ‘borrowed’ it from their grandpa. The sun was high in the sky and your head was pounding. Your eyes drooped as you fought to keep them open beneath your sunglasses. Each day it grew harder and harder to fight the pull of the moon and the urge to slink away from the sun. Michael, who everyone knew was a half was struggling nearly as much as you. He slumped against the wheel slightly as he drove, his sunglasses firmly covering his eyes. Michael had been turned just after you. The boys had Star lure him in; orders from their sire. Though you weren’t there at the time, they were keen to tell you how he had drunk from the bottle and hung it from the train tracks. It had been a few weeks since Michael turned. And you had gotten to know him and the other vampires very well. A heavy weight sets itself upon your shoulders as you clambered out of the car. With your knowledge of the cave and closeness to the vampires, your brothers had relied on you to devise the ultimate plan. Ironically, they sat squashed in the back with you, refusing to ride next to Michael, claiming that ‘They didn’t ride with Vampires’. You were entirely unsure how your brothers hadn’t caught on. You’d passed your tiredness off as late nights getting to know them. Michael knew differently. Either he’d figured it out himself from the time you spent with the vampires, or your symptoms, or Star had caved and told him when she slipped away for help. As you watched your two brothers fumble away with Sam and their stakes, you slipped your arm under Michael, helping to support his weakened body. You had had the privilege of drinking blood from the bottle as much as you needed, or when the boys insisted. Surprisingly, they were relaxed on your resistance to turn fully. It came up occasionally in all of the time you spent with them; It still surprised them at the outcome of your impulse turning. As the pair of you hobbled after the younger boys, who were keen to threaten Michael, and up the stairs, you could feel the burning sun causing both of your heads to pound and muscles to ache. You could also hear the pounding of your heart and you were sure from how loud it was, your fellow vampire could hear it too. Michael glanced at you sideways. “Y/N?”

“Mmh?” You kept your head down, focusing on the steps in front of you, not daring to meet his eyes.

“They don’t know yet. Do they?”

“Know what?”

“Y/N,” He sighed, “Don’t play that game. You know what I mean. I can clearly see the sun’s effect on you”

You huffed, struggling up the stairs, “No. They don’t know yet,”

“How long?” Michael asked. How long since you were turned.

“Not long before you.” You reached the top and began to make your way through the cave’s entrance, “Don’t say anything.” You pleaded. “Please. They’re already mad enough that i’ve been hanging around with them. The only reason they let me do it was for this moment. They’ll be even madder when they realise that I turned wi-” You stopped yourself before you went too far. Michael already knew too much. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Just try not to get yourself killed,”

Michael nodded reluctantly and not another word was passed between you as you made your way down the narrow steps and into the darkness of the cave.

The younger boys were already inside, poking around in curtains and shifting items. Edgar tugged back a thin curtain to reveal Star. She was wrapped tightly in a thin sheet, burying her face in it.

“Here’s one!” Edgar cried excitedly, gesturing to you and Alan, grappling for one of the wooden stakes at the hilt of his belt. They were as thick and as long as your arm, carved half hastily. They would still do some nasty damage. “Come on, let’s stake her!”

“No!” Michael hurried down the last of the steps, gripping onto a loose vine to help keep himself upright. “Don’t you touch her! You stay away from her!” He lurched forwards out of your grasp, causing you to stumble, and skidded to a halt in front of her, forcing the Frog brother away. He dropped to his knees beside her, desperately trying to rouse her from the sun's pull.

“Come on, vampires have such a rotten temper.” Alan glowered, before retreating, slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst before heading off in the opposite direction. “Y/N!” Alan yelled when you continued to stand in your place. “Help us look, God damnit, you’re supposed to be the expert here.”

There was no need to look. You knew exactly where they were, and soon would your brothers. You headed off in the opposite direction, trying to divert their search to where you were. Your heart dropped when you heard Alan yell once again.

“I feel a draft! I think there’s something up here!”

“Let's check it out!” Edgar said running up the stairs, “ Y/N. Sam. Come on,”

Sam followed closely behind with you shortly after. As your brothers began pushing their way through thick layers of cobwebs, Sam called out something to Mike about being back soon.

The tunnel was claustrophobic. It barely stood over a metre in each direction. Roots and cobwebs dangled limply from the ceiling, and a rotten stench filled the air. The five of you continue to crawl down the tunnel, edging closer to uncertainty. The smell got worse and you knew you weren’t the only one who could smell it because Sam screwed up his face in disgust and asked the obvious question.

“What’s that smell?”

“Vampires, my friend. Vampires,”. Edgar patted him on the back. You dropped down off a ledge into a small, circular pit. It was colder there, and you knew that they were definitely in here somewhere. You all looked around, albeit found nothing. You released a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“Looks like a dead end. Let’s head back” you urged, trying to get them to leave before they found the vampires. Maybe if you left now, everyone would make it out alive… or as close to alive as a vampire can be. However, you knew how relentless your brothers were, especially when it came to vampires, so you weren’t surprised when Edgar wanted to keep looking.

“They must have hidden the coffins around here someplace.” Edgar persisted, hovering the lights across the walls.

“There’s nothing here, let’s go guys,” Sam tugged on Alan's sleeve and turned to shuffle back down the tunnel. Then the three boys looked up.

“Jesus!” one of them cried out. You weren’t sure who, you were too busy looking at the figures that hung no more than 10 feet above you, their hair dangling in ribbons by their ears. Sam screamed, only to have his mouth covered shut by one of his friends.

“I thought they were supposed to be in coffins!” Sam cried, clinging to the other two boys who were also cowering in fear.

“That’s what this cave is. It’s one giant coffin.” Edgar regained his composure and began hauling himself and his gear up a ladder, beckoning for you and Alan to follow. Sam stayed below, shining a torch on the vampires’ faces. “Right now they’re at their most vulnerable; easy pickings.”

“Remember, we just have to kill the leader,” Sam prompted. You could tell by the way the light wavered in his shaking hands that he was desperate to leave. You swallowed thickly as you placed your foot on the first rung of the ladder. The old wooden frame shifted under your weight. As the three of you climbed, it creaked and groaned softly.

“We don’t know who the easy one is,” Edgar shrugged, pulling himself onto the rocky platform in the cave. It was narrow, barely three feet wide and there was a fairly sheer drop below it. “I guess we’ll just have to kill them all,”

You climbed onto the platform next to Alan, who was wedging free a stake from his pack.

“We’ll start with the little one.” He smirked. “First come, first staked,”

“What was that?” Sam asked, shining the light on Marko’s face. “A little vampire humour? It wasn’t funny.”

The three of you stood face to face with Marko. His eyes were closed and his lips were puckered softly. He was still wearing his patchwork jacket. Like this he looked so peaceful. Your stomach tossed and turned and Edgar hefted the stake that your brother had passed to him between his sweaty palms. Everything moved slowly when he raised the stake aloft and reared his arm back. You could feel your blood pumping in your veins like an echoing alarm, you could hear your heartbeat pounding against your chest, so hard you thought it might burst.

“No!” You caved, rushing forwards and grabbing your brother’s arm, pulling him behind you, which caused the stake that was in mid pursuit to clutter to the ground. The sound echoed throughout the room.

“Y/N! What the hell are you doing?!” Alan hissed. He pulled Edgar beside him, trying to keep his distance from you. He held out one of his weapons. Your breath shuddered. Above you, the four vampires began to stir. Dwayne's eyelashes fluttered slightly. Despite being underground, you could still feel the pull of the sun. It made your whole body want to curl up and shut down on itself. You wondered how it felt for David and the others. You watched as Alan’s gaze flickered up to them and he squared his jaw.

“Leave them alone.” You told them.

“You’re one of them! Aren’t you?” Alan cried at you, once he had finished looking you up and down. He had finally pieced it together. When you failed to say something, he shook his head in disbelief, “My own sister is a shit-sucking vampire. And a Traitor.”

“Stay away from us,” Edgar said coldly, raising a stake towards you.

“Boys…please.” You took a step towards them, only to have Edgar shove his weapon closer to you. “Please. If we leave now, no one has to get hurt. Just..Just put the stake down. I’ll explain, I promise-”

“Okay.” He grunted. Edgar lowered his stake and you lowered your guard, relaxing just a little bit more. And that was all it took, one tiny moment of trust. Quickly, he spun around, Shoving you harshly towards the edge of the platform and raised his weapon once more.

“Goodnight bloodsucker”

A gut wrenching scream ricocheted across the stone walls.

~

You stumbled backwards, fingers trying in vain to find a grip on the uneven wall. Your footsteps were uneven; all out of beat and losing time. You slipped onto the ground. It was cold and damp beneath your body as you writhed in pain, Rouge tears pooled across your cheeks as you craned your head to spy the offending weapon. The motion made your head swim. It was square, barely as thick as your arm and carved from an aspen tree that once stood in your parents' garden. The four wooden sides sloped together to form a deadly point, now embedded in your stomach, a few inches across from your left hip. You screamed, an agonising, loney scream, but it got lost somewhere between the roaring of the vampires; descending quickly from where they hung, eyes wide and golden with fangs bared, and the screams of the three boys whose eyes were wide with a complexion of shock and terror as they scrambled back down the wooden framework to leave the cave. Your breathing came in quick, short pants as you struggled against the white-hot agony. A figure dropped down next to you as you writhed. A face that was usually so peaceful, hovered into view. His eyes were flecked with gold and were laced with concern and panic.

“Y/N…” Marko breathed, his voice cut clearly through the chaos. He dropped to his knees, hovering over your body, before pressing down onto the red slick that was blossoming between the stake and the threads of your shirt. You groaned in pain. “You’re okay. You’ll be fine. Just stay with me please.” He pleaded, easing you into his arms. When he lifted you, although cautiously, the stake shifted, tugging at your raw, torn skin. A strained whimper escaped your lips and you screwed your eyes up, trying to curl away. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” he hushed, dropping down to the ground of the cave. Paul and Dwayne were quick to rush over to their counterpart. Paul’s eyes were wild, wide and frantic as he reached you. Dwayne’s fangs were still barred, and his hair that was normally so well kept was a mess atop his head. They didn’t care at that moment, seeing you balled up weakly in Marko's arms, something inside of them shifted. The brunette's hands found their way into your hair as you were eased back to the ground, laying across Marko’s chest. When his hands left your hair, you felt them press firmly around the weapon, replacing Marko’s who were now painted with crimson. Although the stake hadn’t gone all the way through, it was close to it. The boys grimaced at your cries of discomfort, faces contorting as though they were the ones feeling your pain too. Paul knelt by your head. He was silent, but took your head gently in his hands, afraid that he might hurt you more. He turned it softly to face him. Your eyes were struggling to stay open as you fought your laboured breathing.

“Y/N?” He questioned. “Hey? Hey. look at me.”

You flitted your eyes up to meet him, They had shifted back to the deep blues of his irises, but the panic on his face still hadn’t melted away.

“Paul?” Your voice was a fraction above a whisper. Ragged and weak. “It hurts.” You whimpered.

“I know. It’s okay. We’ll fix this.”

Blinking slowly, you watched the blonde shift above you. Your eyes felt cumbersome and you suddenly became aware of how tired you were. When black spots began to obscure your vision, you let your eyes flutter shut to blink them away.

“No. No no no. Hey open your eyes, look at us.” Marko panicked.

When your eyes were closed, you felt like you were floating. When your eyes were closed there was no pain. But something was missing. They snapped back open and the whole room seemed to sigh with relief. Above you, someone new had entered the room, David’s face was distraught. And tear stained. His focus shifted from you to the offending stake that still protruded from your gut. His hand ghosted over the top of it.

“We need to take it out.” Paul said.

“No.” When David spoke, it was firm and calm. It mirrored nothing of his expression. “It’s the only thing keeping her from bleeding out. We take it out now and we kill her.”

“We have to do something!” Marko implored. He watched the way your chest staggered up and down. The room was uncomfortably silent for a moment, besides the harsh gasps of your lungs.

“She needs to kill.” Dwayne spoke up.

David nodded solemnly. “We know. But she can’t. We can’t go out there and she’s in no condition to go on her own.”

“Then what the hell are we going to do, David. Huh?” Paul asked. “She’s going to die if we don’t help her.”

They all watched you closely, Your eyes were drooping slowly closed, struggling to hold themselves up. Black spots filled your vision until you could no longer see the blurry shapes of people above you. Your eyes slipped closed again. There was the sound of shuffling and the nauseating smell of more blood mixing with yours. You felt the warm blood ooze down your throat and cool, smooth glass on your lips. When you found enough strength to pry your eyes open, you saw David with the bottle of his blood clutched in his grasp.

“We leave as soon as the sun goes down.”

~~

David left the minute the sun had slipped beyond the horizon. He was bleary eyed and drowsy, but he pulled himself to the nearest part of town to find anyone. The other boys stayed crowded around you. You had gotten worse quickly. The bleeding from the stake had slowed down, however so had your breathing, and your body had paled. You lay limply on Marko’s lap as Paul and Dwayne traced soothing lazy circles on your skin. Their focus never left you. The three of them tried desperately to keep you talking, bringing the glass bottle upto your lips whenever your body wandered a little too far, though eventually the effect of David’s blood began to wear thin and your words turned into little hums and groans of pain. When David finally dragged the struggling man through the entrance to the cave, all bodies perked up. The four vampires helped ease you up, urging you towards the man. Your fingers found flesh.

“That’s it Y/N.” David spoke softly. “Come on, you know what to do.”

You had seen them do it plenary of times. You let your mouth sink into the man’s skin, your teeth piercing the flesh and drawing blood. You swallowed it thickly, it tasted sweeter than you expected. More addicting. As you drank, the fire in your stomach dwindled down to a throb. That was, untill it was forced from your body. Gasping in pain, your hands slipped from the still man in front of you and your body slumped to the ground.

Part 2 • Masterlist

[dailyrickastley]

Once upon time in 1987...

[familyofpaladins]

So I watched The Little Mermaid (the original animated disney version) tonight for the heck of it. Been a while since I've sat down and watched the whole thing in a single sitting.

Afterwards I was like, hmm Eric's voice sorta sounded familar, but I'm not sure if I'm just thinking of this movie or if he was in soemthign else familar

So I look up the movie, and find his voice actor then look at the other stuff he's done, theres not much I've actually seen that I'd recognize him from, so okay I was probably just thinking of this movie. (He also voiced prince charming in the Cinderella sequels, and was spiderman in the old cartoon)

Then I realized that The Little Mermaid 2 wasnt in his list of stuff.

So I look up the sequel to see who voiced Eric there. (As I'm scrolling through the list of actors, most of them came back to reprise their roles. Not sure why Eric's actor didnt. Anyway)

And so I get to Eric's voice actor and who is it?

Its hecking Rob Paulsen. Rob Paulsen who voiced Raphael in the tmnt 1987 cartoon, and Doantello in the 2012 cartoon!!!

(Bonus: One of the other few actors who replaced a voice in the sequel (Flouder's voice actor) was Cam Clarke, who voice Leonardo in the 1987 cartoon)

[epicfirestormer]

You ever think about how Hellboy (Movie) fell for the very same trope the comics itself is subverting about Hellboy? The entirety of the comic is about how Hellboy is nothing what people expect of him, how people always have expectations about him- what he should be, what he would be, his destiny- and how Hellboy goes against that. People expect Hellboy (Movie), the guy who's gruff and tough and has anger issues. Maybe a heart of gold in there, but that's predictable (because that's how the trope goes.)

People don't expect Hellboy, the tired old guy who tries everyday to help and save as many lives as he can. A guy who would much rather spend his time resting and eating pancakes than fighting anyone. A guy who cares so so deeply about the people around him, he's willing to come back from the dead just to help them. A guy who's so incredibly tired, been through hell and high water, fight for every bit of his right to be himself, and yet he's still amazingly kind. He cares so much about the world that seemed to despise him, it's a wonder how someone like him can last so long with hope of a better future.

Hellboy (Movie) doesn't hide what it is: a movie about fighting and beating monsters and bad guys while the main character just-so-happens to look like a demon. It's action-pack, corny, the kind of fun you don't really think that deep into. It's good, but it's not trying to be anything more than that. It's a fine movie, good in some regards and maybe even great depending on who you ask, but I wouldn't say it's a good adaptation.

Hellboy (Comics) is a lot of things. It's a story about a guy who fights supernatural creatures every once and while. It's also a story about kindness, the echoes of it and how much of an impact that could have on the world. It's a narrative about forging your own path. It's a journey about how your past or destiny doesn't defy you, it's what you make of it that matters. It's a trial to prove that it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of you, you're still going to live out your life the way you want. It's grim and murky, but there's hope, always.

But, really, when you boil it down, Hellboy (movie) is the archetype that Hellboy (comic) is trying to break down.

[deadlyflan]

hey I am not sure if you answered this but who’s your favorite turtle and your least favorite?

My favorite is Donatello. Every Donatello. Even the sad ones.

My beloathed is Zach the Fifth Turtle.

Disgusting.

[medullam]

Iman as Nina Beka in No Way Out, dir. Roger Donaldson [1987]

[ria-coolgirl]

Hey I’m really bored and I’m running out of ideas for possibly the lost boys cartoon episodes.

So if you guys want, maybe send me some ideas for episodes.

Okay bye~ 😅