#choppy spooky

[queenofbaws]

current horror movie trend i simply cannot wait to see lose popularity:

constantly

strobing

lights

[witherby]

SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG EL forgeting about my last idea since its kind of generic (this one is also but whateverrrrrhahahsg)

so you know Starfire is an alien right?(tamaranean) how about something where reader is a sort of alien too? (x damian too bc im starting to hyper fixate on him) and like they meet as Damian does patrolling/a mission, kind of how Dick and Star met!!

ill leave if up to there and if you like it!! ANYWAY HI EL!!

—🦈

HI SHARKY.

I was gonna finish writing the vampire!Jason prompt but I saw this and immediately fell into a fugue state instead. When I came out, it was with this. I hope you like it 🩷

Flight of Fancy

Damian Wayne x Winged!Reader

Featuring: language barriers (gibberish), a shoulder wound, and a kiss.

It had started out as a routine track-and-report mission. Damian was supposed to investigate the suspicious cargo shipments in Gotham Harbor, try to figure out what was being delivered, and come back to the Cave with his findings.

Tim's bet was human trafficking. Dick's was illegal arms dealing. Jason's was drugs. Damian guessed poaching. Bruce wanted them to stop making bets about what horrible thing of the week was going on and please focus on getting the task done.

(Bruce was just upset that he wasn't allowed to bet anymore because he kept winning.)

As the night drags on and the boredom starts to creep in, Damian wonders if the ship sitting on the loading dock is actually conducting legal business for once. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened, and it would mean less follow-up work to do.

"Red Robin," Damian mutters into his comm, "there's been no activity for three hours. I'm about to declare this endeavor a wasted one and return to base."

"Copy," Tim says in his ear. "There's no spooky stuff happening on the computer, either. Give it ten more minutes and then come back."

"Understood." Damian shifts on his perch — an unsurveilled roof of a tailoring shop — and casts his gaze along the area for the thousandth time that night.

Cold, choppy waters, devoid of any suspicious activity. Dock workers walking around and doing their jobs as they chatter and whistle amongst each other, devoid of any suspicious activity. The cargo ship that docked an hour ago, devoid of any suspicious —

Well. It wasn't suspicious until he realized that the distant ringing he's heard all night wasn't interference from the dinky, little radio one of the workers has been using to blast old, jazzy tunes, but a shrill crying noise coming from the ship. A normal person wouldn't even be able to detect it, but years of training with the League taught Damian to filter and identify any and all noises he picks up automatically.

"Red Robin. I've identified a potential trafficking situation. Stand by."

"Copy. Standing by," Tim says. "Ready to dispatch EMTs on your word and receive that fifty bucks when you get back."

"Yeah, yeah," he grunts, grappling down the building and taking cover in the shadows, maneuvering his way around the harbor men and onto the ship without a sound.

The closer he gets, the louder the crying becomes. He can tell it's just one person making the sound, and that they seem to be locked in one of the titanium crates on the back of the ship. It's child's play to locate the right one and pop the lock open with the small hand laser from his tool bag.

The second it's gone the lid flies open, and Damian gets knocked down by someone he can only describe as ethereal.

You are a collection of stand-out features. Glowing, bright eyes. A wild mane of hair. Well-tailored, form fitting robes. And a huge, breathtaking pair of white wings, that unfurl from your back and shake out into their full width with barely a whisper of sound.

You're bleeding, Damian realizes belatedly. You're bleeding gold. It drips from a wound in your shoulder, running down the sleeve of your robe and soaking the fabric. Small beads trail down your fingertips and stain his chest where you're using your weight to pin him to the ground.

"Whoa," he mutters, because that's the only thing in his mind. Just. Whoa.

You furrow your brow and glare at him, muttering something in a dialect he doesn't understand. The confusion on his face must be evident, because you quickly become frustrated.

"Ira neshmi le-hyr!" You demand, waving the wrist of your other hand in his face, which has a LexCorp-branded tracking bracelet on it. There are faint scratch marks around the skin where you obviously tried to pry the device off.

"Robin? What's the situation? Am I dispatching EMT?" Tim's voice sounds in his ear, startling Damian into taking full stock of the situation again. He blinks a few times, picking up on bootsteps approaching his location, your increasing franticness from where you're knelt above him, and the riskiness of what he's about to do.

"No EMTs," Damian says, reaching for the handheld laser again. He holds it up for you to see, then gestures to your wrist.

You hesitate for only a moment, then offer him your arm and watch him slice the bracelet off and pocket it. With a quick sleight of band, he presses a tracker of his own into the sleeve of your robes, then urges you to get off him.

"Bad people are coming," he says, gesturing to the shadows of figures he can see getting closer. "You should come with me. I can get you somewhere safe."

You stare at him like you don't understand what he's saying. He lets out a frustrated sigh. There's no time for this.

"Me. You. Come with me. That way." He gestures to you, then himself, then points in the direction of the Bat Cave with urgency.

Your eyes dart to where he points, then you nod. He's about to try to figure out how to pantomime you tucking your wings in so you can sneak around better, but you stride forward, wrap your arms around his waist, and use them to take off into the air. Damian clings to you and yelps, drawing the attention of the men on the ship. There's a cacophony of shouting down below that quickly grows faint the farther away you fly.

"The package is escaping!! Someone call the boss!"

"Do we shoot it down?"

"No, you idiot! We need it alive! We'll track it down —"

The rest of their words are lost to the wind. Damian holds onto you with white knuckles and refuses to look down. It's too dark and too smoggy in Gotham to look up at the stars, so the only other thing to observe is you.

If he thought you were stunning on the ground, you're something else in the air. The wind pushes your hair around and out of your face, revealing small markings around your cheeks and eyes. The light your wings catch makes them almost glitter with every beat as you propel the two of you onward. Briefly, you travel over a more illuminated section of the city, which make your eyes look like little constellations.

He's utterly captivated.

"Nirr'm? Luola stesh?" You try to ask him, directing your gaze to him. Damian has no idea how to answer a question he can't understand, so he just points to the ground.

You scan around for a secluded spot to land and gently coast to the ground, setting him down. Damian locks his knees to keep them from buckling and takes several slow, deep breaths.

"I can't understand you," he says after a moment. You furrow your brows again. "And based on your expression, it's vice-versa."

"Robin, come in!" Tim says in his ear, and, oh, he'd forgotten that he stopped responding for ten minutes. "I'm tracking your location and it says you're four miles away from the harbor? What's your status? Do I need to send Batman in for backup?"

"Negative, do not send backup. Don't send EMTs, either."

"You said there was a trafficking situation?"

"Yeah," Damian says, "metahuman trafficking. Don't send anyone until I can figure out how to communicate that they wouldn't be a threat."

"Communicate? What, they don't speak any of the thousand languages you know?"

Damian doesn't respond.

"Oh, shit. Okay. Standing by."

While he'd been talking to Tim, you had inched your way closer and closer to Damian. When he focuses on you again, he almost flinches back after finding you less than a foot away. You perk up when you notice him give you attention and lift your hands up, curling them around his shoulders.

"Um," he mutters, "what are you doing?"

"De-ad'nin," you say, leaning closer. Your eyes don't leave his. "Hmnik?"

"I don't...I can't understand you," he says again. You're waiting for him to do something, he can tell that much. He just doesn't know what you want.

You lean in even more, practically sharing breath. Damian can feel his cheeks warming, but curiosity overwhelms the impropriety, so he doesn't move away. You seem to take this as some sort of permission.

Closing the gap, you press your mouth to his, and Damian freezes.

Soft, he thinks. Your lips are soft. His hands twitch at his sides as he fights the urge to grab your waist, but you have no such reservations as you press yourself practically flush against him and prod at the seam of his mouth with your tongue. A frankly embarrassing whine leaves him, but Damian relents and starts kissing you back with the same level of enthusiasm you show him. Even though his gloves, he can tell that your hair is ridiculously soft as he runs his fingers through it. He's briefly lost in a flurry of sensations, overwhelmed by you, and just when blood starts redirecting itself to other places, you pull away again and clear your throat.

"You helped me," you murmur, slowly and steadily, like you're testing out the words as you say them. "You set me free. Thank you."

"...you're...welcome?" Damian pants, his mind still a little gooey. "Wait, that's English. You're — did you kiss me to learn English?"

"I did," you smile. "I needed to convey my gratitude in your common tongue. I hope I didn't offend you."

Offend was definitely not the word to use. He gently pulls his hands from your hair, but you make no move to separate, so he settles them on your waist instead.

"You're wounded," he says, tipping his head in the direction of your shoulder. The bleeding has slowed, but not stopped. "Let me take you somewhere to get that wrapped."

"Take me where?" You ask. "Not back to the laboratory?"

"No." He doesn't know what lab you're talking about, but he knows he would never willingly put you back in Luthor's hands. "A cave. It has a medical ward where you can have that cut stitched closed."

You seem to give it some thought, idly playing with the hair at the nape of Damian's neck. It takes so much more effort than he anticipates not to melt into it. Your bare skin against his almost burns. You're exceptionally warm, near-feverish.

"Yes," you eventually agree. "You are..." You tilt your head as you search for the right words to use. "Trustworthy. I will go with you there."

Damian relaxes. He presses a finger to his comm.

"Red Robin, send the Batmobile to my location for extraction. I'm bringing the metahuman to the Batcave."

[hippiegoth97]

Hangman's Joke: An Eddie Munson x Reader Halloween Special (The Crow AU) Part One

Collage by me :)

Masterlist

A/N: It's finally here, guys! I hope you all enjoy, I worked very hard on this one! And I have to thank @keikoraven for being the best beta reader in the world! I still have two parts to write, but I am ecstatic to get spooky season going!

Tag List: @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

@cxrrodedcoffin @queenimmadolla @kellsck @keeksandgigz

If anyone wants added/removed from tags please let me know <3

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, brief mentions of sex, mentions of sexual abuse/ritual abuse/child abuse, violence, blood, character death, murder, smoking, alcohol use, use of homophobic language, grief, angst, mentions of dead animals, mentions of threats, subjects concerning satanic panic

Word Count: 8.2k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part One

“People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.”

October 30th, 1991

Hopper steps out into the crisp fall night, the air biting its way under the collar of his windbreaker. He shoves the door to his vehicle closed, flicking the ash of his cigarette with his other hand. “How bad is it?” He asks as Callahan and Powell approach him. There’s four other police vehicles parked out front of the Crystal Ridge apartment complex, the berries and cherries flashing across every surface in a choppy swirl of light and dark. Unmasked disgust reads on every officer’s face, though Hopper isn’t sure if it’s regarding the scene, or who the victims are inside. 

“Well, it’s not good. And it’s certainly not going to ease any of the tension in town.” Powell replies with a sigh, shaking his head. 

“No shit.” Hopper says flatly, tossing his half-smoked cig away. He walks toward the building, going up the front steps and down the hall until he finds the unit cordoned off with police tape. A few more officers are inside, snapping photos of the carnage, as well as snickering amongst themselves about ‘amusing’ items they find in the residence. All nudging elbows and scrutinizing fingers pointed at books and figurines on nearby shelves or tables, nevermind the bodies lying in the middle of the living room floor. “Something funny here, boys? Last I checked, murder isn't a goddamn joke.” Hopper barks, the mouths of his lower officers clapping shut all at the same time, their eyes widening at being caught in such an immature display. They resume their work in silence, snapping photographs of blood splatters and discarded weapons. 

Hopper takes in the scene, focusing his attention on the victims first, as one should in these situations. Eddie and Y/N Munson, aged twenty-five and twenty-three, respectively. Married for two years, hopelessly in love since Hopper first caught them necking in Roane County Cemetery back in the fall of ‘82. Eddie, known to the Chief as the town’s resident metalhead and small-time drug dealer. Despite his intimidating exterior, Hopper knew he was a good kid who just happened to get into a bit of trouble every now and again. It made him rather proud to see Munson turn it around once he graduated in ‘86, becoming a mentor for troubled Hawkins youth with his Hellfire D&D Club. 

And then there was Y/N, the Bonnie to Eddie’s Clyde. Dressed from head to toe in black leather seemingly since birth, paired with the sweetest, most welcoming smile. Hopper recalls the times she’d cover for Eddie whenever he got busted, and how easily he let them both go. A small twinge of reminiscence tugs the corner of his lip up, but only for a moment. Y/N became a librarian, encouraging the youngsters of the town to embrace literature and expand their developing minds. The kids absolutely adored her, like a spooky big sister who always had their back. There’s sure to be thousands of tiny tears when the news breaks tomorrow.

To see what’s now become of possibly the kindest people in Hawkins he’s ever known, it truly makes Hopper’s heart ache. He gazes upon their bodies, an unwelcome sting coming to his eyes. His pupils dart from place to place, unable to settle on any singular gruesome detail for too long. Their clothes are torn to shreds. Their limbs are splayed about in an eerily doll-like fashion, though their hands meet in the middle, as if to hold one another one last time. Thick, angry slashes and stabs puncture their skin. Clotting blood soaks the remnants of fabric and pools into the carpet below. Their eyes haven’t clouded over just yet, looking as if they’ll spring to life with a hearty laugh any moment now. Surely, they’ll sit up and shout ‘GOTCHA!’, revealing that this was all some twisted Halloween prank. Hopper hopes for it, even prays for it a moment. But the relief he wants never comes. There’s no bright blinking eyes, or smiling mouths, or their matching infectious laughter. It’s all been snuffed out of them completely. 

A sudden choked gasp breaks the monotonous click and whirr of crime scene cameras, and a bloodied arm snatches at Hopper’s ankle. “Holy shit!” Jim yelps, wondering if his wish actually came true. His eyes snap to where the sound came from, finding Eddie gasping for air on the floor as a small trickle of blood flows from his mouth.

“H-Hop?” Eddie wheezes, his features frightened and confused. His thick curls stick to his cheeks in nests of coagulated crimson. Numerous cuts are visible on his chin, forehead, and just below his eyes. 

“I’m here, kid. It’s gonna be okay.” Hopper replies, kneeling beside the young man. Eddie’s in real bad shape, so this promise is probably a lie. “We got a live one, boys! Get a medic in here!” Jim yells, snapping the other officers, who have been watching on in horror, into action. “We’re gonna get you outta here, kid.” Hopper takes hold of Eddie’s shaking hand, doing his best to comfort him.

“Where’s Y/N?” Eddie gargles out, trying to turn his head. Just as Hopper is about to lie to the young man again, the EMTs come in with a stretcher to wheel him out of here. 

“She’ll be right behind you, Eddie. You’re both gonna be fine.” Jim reassures him, squeezing his hand, noticing the rapidly weakening grip of it. Not much longer now, he thinks. At least his pain will be over soon. The medics roll Eddie away, disappearing down the hall of the complex to reach the ambulance.

“You lied to him, didn’t you?” A redheaded girl says in the doorway, tears streaming down her cheeks. Max Mayfield, another familiar face. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” Hopper replies, stepping to the right to shield her young eyes from Y/N’s corpse. He remembers seeing Max with the Munsons quite often, having formed a special relationship with them. Her own home life hasn’t exactly been peachy since she moved to Hawkins with her parents and stepbrother. Said inherited sibling has always been bad news, causing Hopper nothing but trouble for the last few years. 

“I know. I saw the cars outside, and I know what people in town have said about the Munsons. But they aren’t like that…devil worshippers, or whatever.” Max states, rolling her eyes at the baseless accusation she’s heard thrown their way hundreds of times. 

“I know that, kid.” Hopper sighs, stepping closer to her.

“She’s dead, right?” Max asks, looking down at her feet. Tears drip onto the tips of her converse, though she keeps the sobs inside. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Jim answers, no need for polite truth-twisting now. 

“Can I…say goodbye?” Max lifts her head up again, brushing a stray hair that’s escaped her ponytail behind her ear. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hopper shakes his head, stepping closer to lead the girl away from the bloody mess. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.” He offers.

“Okay. Thanks.” She nods, not bothering to sneak a morbid glance behind her as they walk down the hallway. They make their way outside, bypassing the other officers.

“Where you off to, Chief?” Callahan pipes up.

“I’ll be back, just dropping Ms. Mayfield at home first.” Jim answers without turning back, opening the passenger door to let the child hop inside. He closes it after her, going over to his side. “Maybe secure the perimeter properly before I get back, hm?” He suggests gruffly to his subordinate. 

“You got it, sir.” Callahan chuckles dryly, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “Hey.” He lightly smacks Powell on the chest as Hopper pulls out of the lot of the complex. “Secure the perimeter.” He orders unseriously, earning a scoff from his fellow officer.

“Give me orders again, and you can secure my foot in your ass.” Powell laughs, going about his business.

The drive to the Mayfield-Hargrove household is a quiet one, almost painfully so. Max is slumped in her seat, staring out the window at all the places her surrogate parents will no longer be able to visit or ride past on their motorcycle. The record store where they bought every piece of their extensive metal collection, of which they let Max borrow from whenever she liked. The ice cream shop they’d take her to after a nasty day at school or big fight at home. The cemetery where Y/N taught her how to do grave rubbings. She supposes they’ll both be buried there within a few days. At least I’ll be able to visit them again, she thinks, cursing herself for such a selfish thought. More tears pour from her eyes, hot and stinging. She sniffles, trying to hide the evidence on the sleeve of her hoodie.

“Here.” Hopper reaches over, popping open the glove compartment to reveal a collection of napkins from various fast food joints. 

“Thanks.” Max says softly, reaches for a few of the napkins, closing the compartment afterwards. She wipes her eyes, blowing her nose. “I’m sorry for sneaking in. I just had to be sure.” 

“Sure of what?” Jim asks, finding her phrasing rather odd. Like she knows something.

“Well, you know how this town’s treated them. The comments they got, the threats.” Max fiddles with her crumpled tissue.

“Sure do.” Hopper agrees.

“I’ve heard Billy talking about them a lot. The same satanic crap everyone else does, at first.” She pauses, further drawing Hopper’s attention. He glances at her, finding the napkin becoming shredded to pieces in her hands now. “But lately, I’d been hearing him talk with his friends about…’taking care’ of them. You know what I mean?” She looks at him now, appearing far more afraid than she did when Eddie was being carted away in his near-dead state. 

“I do.” He nods, and her shoulders relax a little, as if she’s relieved to have someone believe her. It certainly isn’t outside of the realm of possibility that Billy had something to do with this, though Hopper highly doubts the little fucker acted alone. He almost never does when it comes to starting trouble. His shithead entourage is usually right on his heels at every wrong turn. Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan, and Jason Carver. The four of them have spent their entire collective time in Hawkins wreaking all sorts of havoc. Drunken parties, even drunker fights, vandalizing police vehicles, getting frisky with nearly every young lady in town in various public venues. You name it, and those four have been busted doing it. Unfortunately, their status in town almost guarantees they never see as much as a few scant hours of community service. Hopper worries that brutal murder may soon be added to that list.

“Do you think he…did it?” Max asks, a mix of disbelief and realized terror in her voice.

“I don’t know, kid.” He replies as he pulls up to her house. “But, it’s my job to find out. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna catch whoever did this.” He says with resolve, hoping to bring the girl some comfort. 

“I hope so. Doesn’t seem like anybody else wants to.” She says sadly, recalling how uncaring the other cops looked when she snuck past them in her quest to confirm the worst.

“Well, they don’t have much choice, since I’m in charge.” He laughs, earning a small giggle from Max as well. “Now, get inside. I’m sure your mom’s worried sick.” 

“Probably.” She rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the ride, Hop. And for helping the Munsons.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Max hops out of the car, and Hopper waits for her to make it inside before pulling away. He catches a small glimpse of Billy in the window, who’s wearing a far more smug smirk than usual. 

“I’ve got my work cut out for me.” He sighs, pulling out a fresh smoke as he drives back to the crime scene. 

“Where the hell were you?” Billy asks as Max comes into the house, shedding her damp jacket and setting her skateboard by the door.

“Nowhere.” She answers softly, hoping to avoid an altercation.

“Bullshit. Why the fuck was the pig Chief dropping you off?” He snarls, more than ready to take out the reaming he received from his father earlier tonight on Max.

“I was just…out. It started to rain, so Hop offered me a ride.” She rolls her eyes and shrugs, beginning to walk away towards her room.

“You went to see if those freaks were dead, didn’t you?” He asks cruelly, following her.

“They weren’t freaks! They were my friends!” Max snaps, turning to face her brother in the doorway. 

“You know what they did, Max! They hurt that kid Pete Howell, made him do all sorts of fucked up satanic shit! Everyone in town knows about it!” Billy yells, stalking over to get in her face.

“That’s a lie and you know it! The Munsons would never do that! To anyone!” She shrieks back, taking a step forward. Billy looms over her, fury in his eyes.

“We all saw the bruises, Maxine! And other kids came forward, too! Eddie made all those Hellfire kids drink his blood and touch each other for his rituals! And don’t even get me started on that bitch, Y/N!” He continues to spew lies in a fervent rant, spit flying from his lips. “She gave kids books about witchcraft, encouraging them to put evil spells on each other and sacrifice their pets! I can’t even imagine what messed up shit those two got up to when they were together! Hell, they were probably just waiting for the right kid to come along so they could kill ‘em! It could’ve even been you!”

“Shut up!” Max screams, slapping Billy across the face with all her might to make him stop. He grunts in surprise at the pain, and a throbbing sting spreads through Max’s hand. Before Billy has time to react to what’s just happened, Max runs into her room and slams the door, locking it tight.

“Open this fucking door, Max! You know I’m right about them! You just don’t wanna see it! But you will! Once the cops go through all their shit, you’ll see how evil they really were!” Billy keeps it up, pounding his fist into the door. Max climbs onto her bed, pulling the covers over her head as fresh tears spring free. “You’ll see! And I’ll be right there to say ‘I told you so’! You’ll see them for what they were, just like everybody else has! Fucking freaks who needed to be put down! Savage animals who worshiped Satan! Do you hear me, Max? Do you?! You’ll fucking see!”

“Shut up. Shut up. It’s not true. It’s not. Shut up. It’s not true…” Max murmurs to herself over and over, covering her ears to block out the noise. She refuses to listen, she can’t let Billy’s words get to her. She can’t let the memories of Eddie and Y/N be soiled. Not by him, not by anyone. 

Jim spends the rest of the evening overseeing the processing of the scene, ensuring every piece of evidence is bagged and labeled, leaving no stone unturned in the entire apartment. He can’t leave anything to chance if he’s going to catch these sick fucks. Looking over every detail more closely has made it very clear that no singular person could be responsible for this level of carnage. Y/N’s body has been wheeled away by the coroner, but the bloody outline of her remains on the floor. Eddie’s own became a little muddied when he was taken to the hospital, smudges and smears leading where they ought not to. Disconnection, a word that rings in Hopper’s mind as he studies it.

He receives the call a short time before things wrap up for the night, Eddie didn’t make it. He barely made it into an operating room before the blood loss took him out. Hopper supposes it’s better that way. Rather than Eddie get all cut open and stitched up again, only to find out his wife is gone. He doubts the young man would’ve been able to cope with the loss, or anyone, for that matter. Jim certainly didn’t take the death of his own daughter very well, it’s one of many reasons why he ended up back in this podunk town. At least now, (Hopper hopes, anyway), the Munsons will be able to rest peacefully with one another, no longer subject to the unbridled hatred they faced from their so-called neighbors. He imagines them in a far happier place, speeding around on their motorcycle, blasting heavy metal from the portable stereo strapped to Y/N’s hip, riding down a long, winding road to that great big D&D campaign in the sky. If Jim hadn’t become rather disillusioned with religion, he could almost believe it. 

After Hopper has dismissed everyone, he stops by the corner store to pick up a six-pack to indulge in once he arrives home. He spends the short drive struggling to hold the anger and tears in, he’s already spent hours keeping up the stoic act that’s required of him. Add on top of  that the immense frustration that came from his lower officers besmirching the badge with their careless conduct tonight, and he’s about ready to punch a damn hole in the wall. The moment he makes it through the door to his place, tosses his hat and jacket to a chair in the corner, and sinks down onto his sofa, he can’t hold it back any longer. A choked sob escapes his trembling lips, a harsh breath sucked in right after it. His shaking hands fumble with one of the beers, struggling to push the tab open. When his finger slips a couple times too many, he drops the can onto the floor in defeat, his head falling forward into his hands. He cries softly, still hanging onto the idea that his manhood might be in jeopardy if he lets out the wails he’s got chained up inside. He just sits, eyes scrunched closed tight as tears spill from them, his chest heaving in thick, noiseless bellows as he mourns. 

In an odd way, he had become a bit of a father figure to the Munsons over the years. Neither of them had much in the way of loving homes, except for Eddie’s uncle Wayne. But the poor man worked a lot, leaving Eddie to fend for himself most of the time, though it wasn’t really his fault. Wayne provided everything he could for the boy, until cancer took him unexpectedly in ‘88. Shit, that day was sunshine and lollipops compared to this one. The preceding funeral was small, only attended by Eddie and Y/N, himself, and a few of Wayne’s coworkers from the plant. Eddie kept things short and sweet, just the way his uncle liked it. Afterwards, the three of them went to the Hideaway for a couple drinks. Hopper ignored Y/N’s use of a fake ID, given the circumstances, as well as being off-duty. There wasn’t a dry eye between them, though warm smiles graced their lips regardless as they recalled happy stories of Wayne through the years.

Hopper slowly wipes his hands down along his face once he gets ahold of himself. He picks up the dropped beer, surely it can’t blow up on him after sitting for so long. He cracks it open despite his tear-blurred vision, and chugs it down like bitter medicine to drown his sorrows. It warms his belly instantly, foaming up into a loud belch once he’s swallowed. He sighs, feeling just a little bit better. He supposes the rest of the pack should finish the job, at least for tonight. He sits back on the sofa, clicking the remote to the TV and hopes something is on this late. He grabs a second beer from the bundle. The hiss of the seal breaking seems to hush his thoughts, like a kind woman comforting his uneasy mind. The first sip is like a tender kiss, dizzying his head and warming his body up from the inside out. “Shit, I really need to get laid.” Hopper thinks aloud to himself, not exactly intending to put much effort into such a task. Oh well, nothing another sip couldn’t fix.

A few months earlier…

“We’ve got another one.” You say as you pick up what must be the fiftieth dead animal that’s been left outside the door to your apartment. It’s a pigeon this time. But you’ve found mice, squirrels, rats, frogs, a couple cats, and even a raccoon laid out for you in this very spot before. It’s been happening for months, both before the accusations leveled against you and Eddie, and even more so after.

“Shit, again?” Eddie sighs, scrunching his nose as you hold the pigeon by its feet. Its neck has been snapped, a dribble of blood coming from its beak. “That’s the third one this week.” He leaves you alone with it for a moment, retrieving a plastic bag from the kitchen. “And we’re the ones accused of hurting little critters like this one.” Eddie scoffs in frustration on his journey back to you. “Maybe we should call Hop again.” He offers as he holds the bag open for you to put the poor animal inside it.

“There’s no point, Eds. Even if they catch whoever is doing this, someone else will surely take their place.” You reply in resignation, letting the bird plop into the bag with a dull rustle. Eddie ties it off, the two of you going back to the kitchen. He tosses the pigeon in the trash, and you both wash your hands. You would bury the animals, out of respect, but living in an apartment doesn’t exactly allow for burial sites. Not to mention said animal cemetery would fill up pretty fucking quickly with how many new additions show up on your welcome mat.

“It would be better than doing nothing.” Eddie huffs, drying his hands with a towel.

“Let’s face it, love. This town hates us. Always has. Always will. If we get Hop involved, all it will do is show them that they’re getting to us. Then they win.” You reason, though it would be  untruthful to say the ongoing torture you’ve both endured isn’t getting to you. But the narrow-minded people of this town don’t need to know that. If anything, the intense urge to carry on out of spite drives you to keep the discomfort to yourself. Outside the walls of your own home, that is. 

Neither you or Eddie are strangers to torment. Even back in your school days, all kinds of nasty names would be thrown your way in the halls of Hawkins High. You’d found refuge in each other pretty quickly back then. You were a budding little freshman, and Eddie was a junior barely skating by in all his classes. From the moment your eyes met, you were both total goners. Eddie’s wild curls and boisterous attitude sent you careening head over heels, and your dark style dragged him down the same road right alongside you. Your shared love for metal music and all things nerdy deepened your connection, further weaving you together as a gleaming example of true love, soulmates. You got each other, when no one else did. 

Your bond has only grown stronger over the years, sturdy roots set in your hearts. You helped Eddie study when ‘86 was his last chance to graduate, which was quite a task in itself. Despite your rebellious style and interests, you’re quite the bookworm. You were patient with him, keeping him on track with sweet kisses and touches as ‘rewards’ for doing so well, among other things. In turn, he spoiled you to no end, taking you on sweet dates and presenting you with whatever new book you’d been eyeing lately. And you always had each other’s backs when bullies came your way. Silver tongues have served your mouths well, and a defensive punch on one another’s behalf didn’t hurt, either. 

And, until recently, your shared adult lives have been better than you ever imagined. You moved in together right after graduation, finally free from unfair curfews and sneaking in through bedroom windows. Eddie got himself straightened up, ending his dealing days and getting a job as a mechanic, while still mentoring the Hellfire club on the side. Meanwhile, you have quickly established yourself as the coolest librarian Hawkins has ever seen. The library has never had  such a wide selection of horror and fantasy, everything the kiddos love, despite their parents’ protests. They also happen to love you, for encouraging their curiosity and creativity.

When Eddie popped the question a couple years ago, you were over the moon. It was a beautiful Halloween Wedding, with you in a black gown as you stood at the altar with Eddie in a field littered with colorful leaves. Hopper was kind enough to officiate, and Wayne and all the kids you care so much about were in attendance. Your own parents refused their invite, having long-since rejected you for your ‘un-Christian ways’. So, Wayne did the honor of giving you away, which meant the world to you. The ceremony was short and sweet, and after some simple sandwiches and cake in the park, Eddie whisked you off in his arms to enjoy the perfect honeymoon at home. Nothing but fucking for a solid week straight, all of which was the ultimate mix of affectionate and wild. Neither of you would’ve had it any other way. Every single second of your entire relationship has felt like the easiest thing in the entire world, bringing you nothing but happiness.

What you’ve been subjected to lately, though, is far from easy. As has been said, you’re no stranger to mistreatment. You don’t get through life looking the way you do, liking the things you like, without earning a few dirty looks and unseemly comments. It comes with the territory. But the last few months are nothing you’d ever expected.The stares and verbal jabs are there, alright. But then there’s the graffiti on your front door, poorly drawn pentagrams and misspelled swears. The dead animals, delivered to your door numerous times a week. Broken mirrors on your shared motorcycle if it’s parked on the street a little too long. Books stolen from the library that you later find burned by the dumpsters out back. Calls for books to be outright banned and removed from the library due to ‘satanic or inappropriate material’, all of which have thankfully been dismissed by the Mayor and any other officials involved. Freedom of speech wins out, for once. Although it doesn’t mean much, when everything has only escalated since the Pete Howell incident.

Pete Howell was a freshman member of Eddie’s Hellfire Club, a sweet young kid who has a similar homelife to your own. Unloving parents, who usually don’t pay much attention to him…unless he’s in trouble. They’re far more attentive then, so to speak. That’s how this whole thing started. Pete came to school last month with far more bruises than usual, ones he couldn’t write off as clumsy mishaps. When questioned by teachers, and Eddie, he vehemently denied anyone did anything to him. He said he ‘fell going down the stairs’ and would be fine. Knowing that was clearly bullshit, Eddie did the right thing and asked Hopper to look into it. 

Someone must’ve tipped off Mr. and Mrs. Howell that he was coming, because by the time he knocked on their door, they had the whole story cooked up for him. They claimed that Eddie had brought him to your apartment after a D&D session, and the two of you made him engage in all sorts of vile acts. Ritual sacrifice, spellcasting, and various sexual activities as a means to summon the devil. Hopper didn’t buy a word of it, he knows you both far too well to think you’d ever be capable of such a thing. 

To be properly thorough, he had a doctor check Pete out, ask him more questions. While there was no evidence of sexual abuse, Pete started singing a far more zealous tune than he was before. He screamed bloody murder about all the evil things you’d done to him, how scared he was, how much you hurt him. It made you sick to your stomach when Hopper came around to warn you that he had no choice in searching your place for evidence. To think that anyone would accuse you or Eddie of doing such disgusting things, it sent your heart sinking like a stone in your chest. In order to clear up this ridiculous matter, you allowed the police to go through all your belongings, and answered every single question they asked. Hopper thankfully kept the reporters at bay, but it didn’t take long for the populace at large to spread the rumors like wildfire. 

The couple of weeks during the investigation were absolute hell. You could barely leave the apartment without a police escort, and whichever officer you were assigned at the time seemed less than enthused to assist you. When you did dare to step outside, cameras were on you immediately, as well as a sea of recognizable faces shouting and screaming at you. Calling you a whore of the devil, a witch, a monster, saying similar things to Eddie as well. These were people you’d known your entire life, and they turned on you with very little resistance. The fanatical preachers, trashy tabloids and exaggerated news stories breaking out across the country certainly didn’t help. 

When you and Eddie were finally cleared of any wrongdoing, things only got worse. There were demands for Hopper’s badge, or his head, as well as yours. What they did get was Eddie’s banishment from school property. ‘To be on the safe side’, as Principal Higgins put it. Pete has stuck to his story since then, you imagine under threat of being beaten even harder next time. You don’t blame him, he’s just a scared, hurt child. His parents have garnered mountains of support from the community, who have come together in an effort to drive you and Eddie out of town, by any means necessary. Threatening phone calls at all hours and vulgar letters slipped under your door have joined the mix now, to a point where you’ve left the phone unplugged, and taped the bottom of your front door to prevent the letters from fitting under it. You often have nightmares of people breaking into the apartment, and hurting you or Eddie. It’s become difficult to get much sleep, without Eddie having to hold you close and coo sweet nothings as you cry. It makes you feel like you’re going insane at times, your mind left searching as to how people who once seemed rational could act in such a way. Satan is on everyone’s mind these days, and their devil detectors are now permanently poised directly at you. 

“I’m just so tired of being scared all the time. I worry about you every time you walk out that door, or when I do. I'm afraid that one day, one of us might not make it back at night.” You find yourself breaking down again, tears welling and lips trembling. You turn away, frustrated with losing what little control you have left. You ball your fists at your sides as you choke on anguished sobs. Eddie’s arms wrap around your middle as your eyes squeeze shut, his chest meeting your back with a welcome warmth.

“I’m scared too, sweetheart. Every time I drop you off at work, I spend every second hoping I don’t get a call or visit from Hop at the shop.” Eddie says softly, holding back his own tears. His hands find yours, loosening the knotted knuckles. He slowly makes you face him, his heart breaking at the redness of your face, the hopeless expression it carries. It kills him that he can’t do more for you, to protect you. He’s suggested buying a gun a couple of times, but you always refuse. He’s not exactly a fan either, but what else can he do? He intertwines his fingers with your own, keeping you close. “All we can hope for is that this will all blow over soon. Then we won’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know, love. I just wonder how long they’ll keep it up.” You reply, sounding utterly defeated.

“They’re bound to get tired of it eventually. Until then, we’ve got each other. We’ll be okay, angel.” Eddie assures you, pulling you further into his arms.

You sigh, welcoming his embrace. “I really hope you’re right, babe. Not sure how much more of this I can take.” You press your cheek into his chest, unable to quell the ever-growing uneasiness brewing inside you.

October 31, 1991

“We’ve got them all set up for you, Chief. Whenever you’re ready.” Powell says as Hopper steps out of his office, having sent the cavalry to pick up a certain group of young men who sit at the top of his suspect list.

“Perfect. I’ll start with Hargrove.” Hopper smiles, chugging the rest of his black coffee, handing the mug off to Callahan. I’m gonna enjoy this, he thinks to himself as Powell leads him to the interrogation room. Their footsteps land on the linoleum with purpose, closing the distance between him and where the suspected ringleader in all this is being held. Jim sincerely hopes Billy gives him a good reason to manhandle him a little bit, some well-earned payback for what he’s done. His fist balls up of its own volition at the thought, his fingernails nearly drawing blood as they press into his palm. He closes his eyes and takes a very deep breath once he and Powell reach the door, letting it out nice and slow like his officially-mandated therapist showed him. 

“You good, Chief?” Powell asks, his hand trained on the doorknob as he awaits Hopper’s go-ahead.

“Never better.” Jim opens his eyes again, nodding to the officer. “Let’s do it.” With that, Powell opens the door, stepping inside with Hopper right behind him. “Know why you’re here, kid?” He asks Billy, not wasting any time. The young man is sitting in a stiff chair on one side of the table in the room, legs spread wide in tight blue jeans. A matching jacket rests over the back of the chair, leaving him in a ratty old t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscles and tattoos.

“Not a clue.” Billy bites, crossing his thick arms. “Mind filling me in?” He asks with a smirk, adjusting in his seat. There’s not a lick of fear struck within him, only annoyance. As if being questioned about a serious crime is only a minor inconvenience to his day. Hopper has brought him in here many times before, but usually for far more petty things. He’d like to think any normal person would be at least a little bit nervous in this scenario. The completely unbothered demeanor Hargrove holds sends a chill scurrying up his spine.

“No problem.” Hopper grins back, already forgetting all the anger management techniques Linda has shown him. He drops a manila folder onto the table, opening it to face Billy. “As you know, Eddie and Y/N Munson were murdered last night in their apartment. Pretty gruesomely, if I might add.” Jim spreads the crime scene photos out across the table, letting the kid have a good long look, searching for a reaction. But Billy’s eyes barely flick down for a glance, deepening the unsettling feeling in Hopper’s stomach. 

“What’s that gotta do with me?” Billy asks, shrugging his shoulders. His lip is fixed stiff, eyebrows drawn downward to evoke confusion. But Hopper isn’t buying it.

“Why don’t you tell me? Where were you last night?” Jim asks.

“I was out with friends.” Billy answers coldly.

“Which friends?” Hopper continues, hoping to make the kid slip up in his quick succession of questions. The method usually works out pretty well for him.

“Tommy, Steve, and Jason.” Billy answers just as quickly, his eyes barely blinking as he keeps up just fine. 

“And what were the four of you doing?” Hopper questions.

“Drinking beers, hanging out.” The young man responds.

“And what time was this?” 

“I dunno, man. All night, probably?” There it is, a flash of uncertainty. Hopper can use that.

“Probably? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.” Jim smiles, hoping whatever lies Billy’s got lined up will start to crumble.

“Do I look like I wear a watch? I don’t know how long it went on for. But we stayed at Steve’s all night, our girls were there, too. You can ask them.” Billy snaps, losing that cool, calculating exterior.

“Oh, you bet I will.” Hopper chuckles, feeling a little too much satisfaction at making the kid crack just a bit. It’s the small victories that matter in life, after all. If he keeps at it, with the other boys, too, he’s almost certain he can nail them for this. “You wanna know what I think?” Jim asks, hoping to goad a few more mistakes out of Billy before taking a run at the other three.

“What?” Billy scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Hopper stands up, leaning as far over the table as he can reach. His face sits centimeters away from Billy’s, and the proximity seems to shake the kid up just the tiniest bit more. “I think you and your psychopathic little friends were real upset when I found no evidence of the Munsons doing what everyone claims they did. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands. They certainly suffered enough harassment and threats. Someone was bound to get fed up pussy-footin’ around and do what everybody in this town has wanted to. I think you rounded up your boys, and finished the job. I think you broke into the Munson’s home, you tortured them, and then you killed them. That’s what I think.” Jim resists the urge to spit in the young man’s face, backing off and sitting down in his chair.

Billy sits with the accusation for a moment, before bursting out laughing. It’s certainly not the reaction Hopper was expecting. “That’s quite a theory you got there, Chief!” He hollers, pounding his fist on the table as if he’s just been told the funniest joke in the entire world. “You’ve got a real sick sense of humor, I like it.” He chuckles as he calms himself down. Deep red amusement colors his cheeks and throat. “Too bad you can never prove it.” He sighs loudly, pretending to be disappointed. “Like I said, I was with my boys, and my lady, havin’ some drinks. I’d tell ya more, but I doubt you wanna hear the details of my sex life.” He laughs callously, before continuing. “Now, even if I did kill those freaks, I doubt anyone will miss them.” His smile grows a little, revealing the joy in his words. “We all know what they were, what they were capable of.” He speaks slowly, baiting Hopper into losing his cool. 

“And what would that be?” Jim asks, daring the little fucker to say another word about them.

“They were a couple of evil devil worshippers, posing a threat to this community! A community you’re meant to be protecting, Hopper!” Billy shouts as he stands, his chair sliding back. “You know what that witch bitch and her faggot husband did to Pete Howell! And you did nothing about it!”

“I did my job.” Hopper bellows back, getting to his feet. “I searched their apartment, I made them feel like criminals to put this ignorant town at ease! I had Pete checked out! I did everything I was supposed to, you insolent fuck! I couldn’t find a damn thing to back up this bullshit you and everybody else continue to spew all over the place!” His voice raises more and more with every sentence. 

“Chief.” Powell says quietly, hoping to get his boss’s attention. But Hopper pays him no mind. In fact, he goes around the table to get at Billy, quickly leading him backwards by the collar to slam into the wall.

“They were good people! They never hurt anyone! Even in the face of all this hatred you hurled at them, they still managed to be kind! Which is more than I can say for you, or anyone else in this godforsaken town!” Jim shouts in the young man’s face, earning no reaction besides that same stupidly smug smirk. He breathes heavily, still gripping Billy’s shirt in his hands.

“I’d like my lawyer now.” Billy says coolly, having lured Hopper right into his trap. He’s aware of the close relationship the Chief had with the Munsons, so it was easy enough to exploit. No way a judge will convict him now, not after the investigating officers have gotten physical with him. Add on his rock-solid alibi, and he probably won’t even see any charges. 

“Fuck.” Hopper sighs, his head falling to look at the floor once he realizes what he’s done. He can kiss justice for Eddie and Y/N goodbye. His hands slowly release Billy’s shirt, and he turns away to have a fucking breather before he goes for his next opponent. 

The other young men provide the same story to Hopper, asking for lawyers shortly after their almost identical retellings. Things were already not looking good after his outburst earlier, and it’s only getting worse as the night wears on. As predicted, the ‘girls’ in question for the alibi 一Nancy Wheeler, Carol Perkins, Vicki Carmichael, and Tina Johnson一 all corroborate Billy’s tale. The lawyers and parents give him an earful or two, and he’s left with four empty interrogation rooms and no arrests by the end of his shift. He goes home feeling even worse than he did yesterday, picking up two six-packs on the way home this time. Time will tell if he’s ever able to recover from this, but as one of Y/N’s gag oracles would say: ‘outlook not so good’.

October 30th, 1992

Inky clouds flood the night sky as the hour grows late, small blooms of light from the full moon willfully piercing the thick blanket in defiance. Max sits cross-legged before Y/N’s grave in Roane County Cemetery, scrubbing red spray-painted graffiti from it with a soapy sponge. She dips the sponge in a bucket beside her to refresh it, ignoring the knot tied up inside her at what the defacement says. ‘Burn in Hell Bitch’. An accompanying message still sits untainted on Eddie’s, ‘Burn in Hell Fag’.

“They could’ve at least bothered to put the commas in.” A low voice speaks from behind Max, startling her. She turns around, finding Hopper standing a couple feet away. He wears a sad smile beneath his wide-brimmed hat, coming closer to her. “Want some help?” He asks, groaning slightly as he joins her on the moist grass.

“Yeah.” Max replies, nodding. “Thanks.” She reaches into the bucket, handing him the sopping piece of foam. “I swear, every time I clean this shit off, someone comes along and puts something else in its place. I’m sick of it.” She expresses her frustration, feeling free to do so in Hopper’s presence.

“You and me both, kid. But I’m sure the Munsons appreciate you lookin’ after them.” Jim says, rubbing away at the ‘F’ on Eddie’s headstone. 

“I can’t believe it’s already been a year.” Max says sadly, low roars of thunder rumbling through the clouds above.

“Me either.” Hopper sighs, scraping a little harder now. It’s the least he can do, given how miserably he failed at catching the killers. He’s barely been by to visit since the funeral, too twisted up with guilt to bear looking at these very stones. The epitaphs are simple, yet capture exactly who the Munsons were. ‘Loving Wife (or Husband), Caring Friend, and Free Spirit’. 

Hopper remembers being tasked with handling their final arrangements, no living kin of theirs was interested in doing so. He allowed Max to help a little, choosing flowers and program designs. Small stuff, so Hopper himself could handle the hard part. Like selecting coffins, and deciding what these very graves would say to whoever may visit them. Max picked black dahlias, Y/N’s favorite. Jim also let her inside the apartment once the mess was cleaned up to find clothes for them to be buried in. He initially worried if it would’ve been too morbid for such a young girl, but she knew them well enough to select exactly what they would’ve wanted. A sleek black leather dress for Y/N, and a nice black shirt and clean matching jeans for Eddie. Hopper even made sure their wedding bands were released from evidence, and any other significant pieces Max could think of. He didn’t want to leave them incomplete before they were laid to rest. No one at the station seemed to mind, having already washed their hands of the case before the ground could break to bury the Munsons.

The funeral itself was a small affair. Only Hopper, Max, a non-denominational minister, and the few kids in town who weren’t banned from going were in attendance. The proceedings were peaceful, though, thankfully free from any protesters. Everything was kept short and sweet, the way the Munsons would have wanted it. Jim doubts they would’ve cared for a drawn-out sobfest, quite the opposite. They would’ve wanted whoever cared to show up to remember them as they were. Two sweet, loving, hilarious, eccentric, beautiful people who made the world so much brighter just by existing in it. So, that’s what he did. When the bodies were lowered into the ground, Hopper walked the kids to the ice cream shop, and everyone took turns telling their favorite memories of their lost friends. There were lots of laughs and tears, leaving the day feeling unbearably bittersweet. Just the way Y/N and Eddie wanted it to be.

“Is it weird that I talk to them sometimes?” Max asks, breaking the silence. She doesn’t look at Jim, worried he may judge her.

“Not at all. I used to talk to my Sarah sometimes.” Hopper says, dipping his sponge in the bucket. “She was my little girl…” He trails off, wondering how much he should tell her. “She got sick, and we did everything we could for her. But it wasn’t enough.” He adds, letting out a low sigh.

“I’m sorry.” Max says, looking at him now. 

“Don’t be, it was a long time ago.” He shakes his head, forcing a smile as he returns to scrubbing. 

The two of them keep going until all the offending red is washed away, leaving Y/N and Eddie looking spotless once again. They speak casually, passing the time in one another’s company, ignoring the flashes of lightning that periodically screech across the sky. Max dumps the bucket out once the work is done, wringing the sponges out thoroughly. “Mind giving me a ride home? Looks like it’s gonna rain.” She asks, peering up uneasily at the stormclouds. 

“Sure, kid. I’ll even get you some grub on the way.” Hopper agrees, taking hold of the bucket to carry it for her.

“BK?” She asks hopefully, pouting her lower lip out.

“You got it.” Hopper chuckles, finding a smidge of Sarah in Max’s feigned puppy eyes. “C’mon, we’d better beat this rain.” He takes her hand in his free one, and they walk together out of the cemetery just as the first drops start to fall.

The clouds grow thicker, claps of thunder and strikes of lightning clashing in the sky like a raging battle of the gods is taking place. A lone crow flies overhead the newly cleaned headstones, its caw barely audible over the storm. It lands on Y/N’s grave as the rain begins to pour in curtains, ruffling its shiny feathers, pecking at the newly-washed stone with its obsidian beak. It lets out another caw, tilting its head side to side in curiosity as it peers at the ground. A booming rumble breaks through the air, followed by a bright white streak of lightning piercing the earth where the woman lies resting. The crow caws again, and the ground begins to groan and wheeze as it shifts. Bulging rolls form beneath the green grass, rippling in thick waves. 

The bird makes its call one final time, a crack suddenly splitting the earth open in a tangled mess of dirt and roots. A puddle quickly pools in the hole, mud sliding down inwards. And a twitching hand springs up out of the grave, clawing for purchase on the slick edge of the rift with black painted fingernails.

To Be Continued…

[delta-gambit-au]

From the daily sketches I need to do to keep practicing with the pencil. Dual request: @alandove ➡ Wortox from "Don't Starve Together"

@fragonreal ➡ Kevin from "Spooky Month".

I was like wondering what height Wortox would have in a normal setting, but guess this size is nice for the effect.

Oh, and about the running animation of Spamton, still on it, still on it. I also discovered that my program exported the animation and ate 3 frames so it looked choppy. I need to redo all of the workspace I was preparing for pixel arting everything 😭

[pocketsizedquasar-3]

i’m very normal about remembering to post but anyway have another spooky eldritch squid ahab <3 i like him

still selling Ahab prints and comics to help @/fahedshehab-new’s family!! please go check out!

[ID: two images of a sketchbook spread with a black and white ink drawing of Ahab, partially becoming a squid. the mass of his coat morphs into squid tentacles. he is carrying a harpoon and rubbing at his face, from which ink drops. he is standing over a choppy sea, and some of the tentacles blend into the waves. the second photo shows the whole sketchbook on a desk, with an ink pen beside it; the first photo is cropped to show just the drawing.]

[noturlondonboy]

If Kate + Kate Makes Two… (Prt. 2)

-Bishova/Kate Bishop ¿Selfcest? Miniseries

Request and concept art images by @selfcestmovies

Masterlist

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Kate Bishop

Summary: Yelena takes the two Kates to visit Dr. Strange, who counsels with Wanda Maximoff and America Chavez about Kate’s predicament. However, they aren’t lucky enough to provide good news, and Kate is left feeling even more discouraged.

Warnings: angst, not proof read

A/N: another! Welcome Wanda and America, I missed you

The thick coat wrapped snugly around Kate’s body does absolutely nothing against the persistent chill in Dr. Strange’s spooky magic apartment- the saline sanctum or some shit, she was too freaked to remember or frankly even care- and pulling it closer to herself only serves to make her shiver harder.

“God, I hate it here,” she whispers weakly to herself, teeth chattering as her eyes dart around anxiously.

“Tell me about it,” her own voice says softly back.

Kate’s head whips to meet identical blue eyes, and she swallows thickly as her face pales for the millionth time that day. The Other Kate was walking a few feet behind her, with a very concerned Yelena between the two of them as they followed behind Dr. Strange. Kate doesn’t respond to her (to herself? What the fuck) and just turns back around to stare at the floor as they walk. She doesn’t see the flash of disappointment in Other Kate’s eyes (HER eyes) when she looks away.

“Strange? Where are we going?” Yelena calls out, her deep voice as irritated as it is worried. Kate finds herself shuffling closer to her girlfriend, (???) the blonde the only source of comfort she currently could find.

Yelena must notice her unease, because gentle fingers trail over her arm. They’re only there for a moment, however, before they disappear and the woman’s hand falls into that of Other Kate.

Kate swallows again, hugging herself tighter. Maybe the cold had nothing to do with her discomfort. Seeing her girlfriend view her with weary confusion was doing something mean to her heart, but then again, Kate can’t blame her. She still does a double take every time she looks back and sees a long golden braid and not the choppy cut she had been recently accustomed to.

But also, there was an exact duplicate of herself back there, too, so, y’know. What the fuck’s all around.

“Run me by exactly what happened, again?” the sorcerer finally says, his voice interrupting the panicked spiral Kate had been sinking into as he glances at her. He leads them into a long hallway and then into a side room with high pillars and bookshelves lining the walls, and Kate has to take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting.

“Well,” she mumbles, tugging anxiously at the coat on her shoulders, “I got home. Um. Everything seemed pretty normal for the most part at first. But then different things kept popping out at me.”

“Like what?” Strange doesn’t look back at her again, his magic pulling several books from the walls and hovering them down to him.

“I’m used to the cupboards being pretty well stocked, but they were a little pathetic,” the archer says, laughing weakly. There’s a soft noise of complaint from Other Kate behind her, but it’s quickly hushed by Yelena. “And the furniture was back to its old arrangement.”

She leaves out the part about her devastation when discovering the Stone Age Animal Crossing island.

The sorcerer hums to himself as he leads through books, his mouth a thin line. “This sounds like a pretty simple problem,” he eventually says, his eyes finding Kate’s. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen people get a little misplaced in time like this.”

“So you think it’s time travel?” Yelena speaks up, her voice weary. “Why didn’t just her brain do the traveling?” The blonde stops and looks between the two Kates. “Does that make sense?”

Strange doesn’t give any of them a chance to respond before he’s opening up another book. “In most cases of singular personnel time travel, you would be correct, Yelena. The conscious awareness would be the only thing aware of any change. Usually, we don’t end up with double of someone unless there were outside forces pulling some strings.”

Kate can feel her head throbbing, and she presses a hand to her eyes as they ache in her skull. “I don’t fucking understand. Someone else pulled some shit and space-timed me out of place, or something?”

“Or something,” Other Kate mutters under her breath, shifting nervously on her feet. Yelena’s hand twines with hers again. Kate bites back against the bitterness in her throat.

“Alright, keep telling me what happened,” Strange beckons, his eyes darting over the pages of several different books as they float in the air above him.

Kate swallows. “Ok, well… Yelena got back to the apartment, and I freaked out, because she suddenly had long hair again, and then I had to sit down because I was freaking out more, and then another me walked through the door.”

“And she passed out,” Yelena adds, incredibly unhelpfully.

Kate shoots her a look, but she wilts when she sees the weariness in the assassin’s eyes. God, she would give anything to curl up in bed right now and sleep all the confusion away.

Dr. Strange nods and hums to himself. “I’m going to call on Wanda and America and we’ll figure something out. In the meantime, Kate, Yelena, you need to keep her in your line of sight at all times.”

Kate opens her mouth to comment but stops when the two women behind her mutter their agreements, and Kate turns to look at them with a puzzled expression. “Wait, me? I don’t need to be babysat.”

“You’re the anomaly here,” Strange says simply, shrugging as his magic swirls around him. He disappears through a sparking portal without another word, and Kate stares at where he had been just moments before.

“What the actual fuck,” she mutters to herself, rubbing her hands down her face. Nothing but silence greets her back, and when she glances at Yelena and Other Kate, they’re watching her with a sense of unease and confusion.

“This isn’t a fucking zoo, you can stop staring,” Kate mumbles weakly, her shoulders drooping as the situation seems to really hit her. She lets out a breath and sinks down to the door against a pillar, resting her head between her knees and wrapping her arms over her neck.

There are soft whispers and some shuffling from the two others in the room, and after a moment, a soft hand rests on her knee. The archer glances up with tired eyes, meeting Yelena’s gaze.

“Are you alright, Kate Bishop?”

The familiar title has tears building in the back of her throat, and Kate shakes her head as her lips press into a thin line. “I’m scared,” she admits, her voice breaking.

Yelena’s eyes are kind, and they ease some of the tension in Kate’s chest. “This feels like the kind of thing you’d be all over,” she says softly, her head tilting. A few feet away, Other Kate is nodding slowly, her expression thoughtful.

“I know, right?” Kate laughs tearfully, pressing a palm to her eyes as they start to leak. “I’ve always been so interested in space-time shit. I just never thought I would actually see it happen to me. And just the fact that I don’t remember how or why it happened… I don’t know.”

Yelena squeezes her knee gently. “I’m sure we’ll be able to figure out what happened and get you back to where you belong.”

Kate stares at the blonde for a moment before a humorless chuckle sounds in her throat. “This is so fucking weird. I want to kiss you, because you’re my girlfriend, but at the same time you’re not.”

“Yeah, that’s gotta feel weird,” the Other Kate mutters, her eyebrows scrunched. Yelena nods in agreement and purses her lips.

“What’s your Yelena like?” the Yelena in front of her asks, head tilted to the side. “Is she much different? Is your universe completely changed, or is it just older?”

“It’s just older, from what I can tell,” Kate says quietly, feeling grateful for the excuse to talk about her girlfriend. To… herself. And… her girlfriend?

Jesus Christ.

“You, um… she…? You have shorter hair. You got it cut just recently.” Kate smiles weakly and rubs at her eyes. “It’s really pretty.”

Yelena’s cheeks go a little pink, and at the same time, Other Kate looks down at her girlfriend with a soft whistle. “You would look super good with short hair, babe,” she agrees.

“She does.” Kate and Other Kate share a smile for the first time, and Yelena glances between the two of them.

“Strange better figure out how to send you back,” the blonde mutters, and both archers give her a puzzled look. She rolls her eyes and stands, brushing her knees off. “I can barely handle one Kate Bishop. How am I supposed to live with two of you constantly trying to charm me?”

That makes Kate’s heart feel a little lighter, but at the same time, the worry that’s been growing in the back of mind pulses.

What if I’m stuck here?

With myself?

——

It’s several more minutes before another portal opens up, and Strange steps from it back into the room with America Chavez and Wanda Maximoff on his heels. Both women stop and glance between the two Kate’s with a strange look on their faces, but Wanda recovers first and walks closer.

“Which one of you is misplaced?”

Kate raises her hand weakly, feeling childish as the witch meets her eyes. “Me.”

Wanda hums and circles her, her gaze focused as she takes in Kate’s form. “You don’t look like this universe is trying to get rid of you, so that’s a relief.”

Kate feels her throat tighten, and her eyebrows shoot up. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Oftentimes, when people are misplaced,” America chimes in, arms folded over her chest, “the universe they enter recognizes that they don’t belong and will do everything it can to get rid of the foreign entity.”

“Which could entail…?” Yelena says slowly, her eyes narrowed.

“The very fabric of Kate’s existence would be torn apart if she didn’t leave quickly enough.”

Yelena’s face pales, and Kate presses a hand to her stomach as it blanches.

“Not your Kate,” Strange quickly says, motioning to the Other Kate a few feet away. “Just the misplaced one.”

“My head hurts, holy shit,” Kate grumbles, her eyes screwed tightly shut as she rubs at her temples. This was all so fucked. She just wanted to go home.

Wanda’s hands are gentle when they land on Kate’s shoulders, and the archer looks at her after a moment. “It’s going to be alright, Kate,” the witch says kindly, her smile warm. “We’ll figure out why you’re here in no time, and then make a plan to help you get home.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” Kate whispers, her throat tight.

The woman nods and offers Kate’s shoulder a squeeze before walking back over to Strange and America, and the three of them talk quietly together, different books and hand gestures Kate doesn’t understand between them.

The archer wraps an arm around her stomach, leaning her other elbow on it and biting anxiously at her thumbnail. Wanda’s presence was a comfort, especially knowing just how much knowledge and power she possessed about this sort of thing, but Kate’s belly was still tied up into sharp knots. At one point she starts to pace around in circles, and the sight of Yelena and Other Kate talking softly and shooting her worried glances nearly sends Kate into another spiraling mess.

She suddenly stops in her tracks, eyes wide and jaw a little slack as she realizes that Yelena- her Yelena, future Yelena- couldn’t possibly have any way to know where Kate had gone. How long had it been since Kate disappeared? Was her girlfriend okay? Had she noticed? Was she worried? Panicked? Did she feel abandoned?

“Kate, hey.” Soft hands are suddenly on her arms, and Kate’s head snaps up to meet an identical pair of blue eyes. She doesn’t realize that she’s nearly started to hyperventilate until the other archer’s frown deepens, and the strange weight that is her own hand on another person moves to rest over her sternum.

“Breathe. I get it. You’re worried about Yelena,” Other Kate says gently, her eyes wide and conflicted.

Kate nods jerkily, her lips parted and trembling as she struggles to force air into her lungs. Of course this Other Kate would know what’s on her mind, it’s herself for crying out loud.

“This is so weird,” she chokes out, her hands toying nervously with the zipper on her coat.

“Yeah, yeah- it really is. But it’s gonna be okay,” Other Kate offers, eyebrows raising with sympathy as she does her best to keep her tone even. “Wanda will get it all figured out, and Strange and America will be able to send you right back to where you need to be.”

Kate nods again, rubbing her palms against her eyes. “Right, yeah. For sure. It’s fine.”

“Do you… want a hug?”

Kate looks up at her again, at herself, at her own face that stares right back, and gives a little nod, shuffling forward. She wraps her arms around the other woman’s waist, her face pressing into her shoulder and taking in the familiar scent of her own body. It was strange, to see her own face and hear her own voice, but to also have the same skin under her fingertips? She could almost pretend it was her mother, or a cousin- but a wave of comfort that Eleanor could never have possibly provided washed over her when Other Kate hugged her back, hugging her just the way Kate liked to hug others herself.

“This is weird,” Kate says again, a soft, tearful laugh echoing in her throat as her arms tighten around Other Kate.

The woman nods in agreement, her fingers gently combing at the baby hairs on Kate’s neck in the way they both knew made her feel better. “Yeah. It’s weird. I’m hugging myself. Normally this would sound really sad, but it’s actually happening and not some stupid metaphor.”

This makes a real, genuine laugh bubble up in Kate’s chest and she steps away after a moment. “Man, I give good hugs.”

Other Kate gives a bright grin, and they both start rocking back on their heels at the same time. “I know right? We really are just a teddy bear.”

We felt so much better than her and me.

Kate’s responding comment is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and the three of them turn to see Strange, Wanda, and America all approaching with conflicted expressions. Except for Strange. He looks neutral. Unbothered, almost. It pisses Kate off.

She never did really like him.

“Anything?” Kate asks after a moment of tense silence.

Wanda’s mouth opens and closes a few times as she shares a look with America, but Dr. Strange is the one who speaks up first.

“We figured out what happened, and why, but… it’s a little more complicated than we would’ve liked.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Other Kate mumbles, and Kate can’t help but to agree.

Her throat tightens almost painfully, and her eyes dart anxiously to Wanda. “Not too complicated though, right? I mean, maybe you just need some time? To figure out how to get me home?”

“That’s… just the thing, actually.” America’s tone is nervous, and she flashes an apologetic look. “You’re kind of… already home?”

She’s met with three blank stares- two of which are identical and equally chilling.

“I don’t follow,” Yelena says, voice low and cautious, as if she knew they were all hurtling for an edge that Kate could topple over at any moment.

Strange beckons to America, who nods and takes Wanda’s hand as if to steady herself as she thrusts a fist out through the air in front of her. Light seems to shoot from her hand, and a dazzling, star shaped portal appears at an angle above the ground.

Kate’s breath catches when she first sees the blazing opening etched in blue fire and a bit of red, but then it catches again for a completely different reason. Through the portal she can see Yelena- her Yelena, with kind, mischievous eyes and short, choppy hair slicked messily back. Kate’s body tenses as she opens her mouth, as if to call out, to step forward and reach for the woman who held her heart, but another figure has her completely stopping.

Kate appears in the frame, her arms wrapping around Yelena’s waist from behind as the blonde cooks what looks like macaroni on the stove. The two women laugh softly and sway together, exchanging kisses and quiet words. It was a scene Kate was familiar with, one she valued and adored and always looked forward to on long days- but this specific one sparked confusion, and not recollection.

Kate watches herself kiss her girlfriend’s cheek and tug playfully at the hood on her sweatshirt- a sweatshirt that she had been planning on buying her the next day. Yelena hadn’t ever seen the hoodie at the time that Kate was tossed through space and time. This moment had never happened for her.

But there it was, happening before her very eyes.

Without her.

She had been duplicated. She was a clone. Kate was misplaced, with nowhere to even go back to.

Yelena did not even know she was missing.

< Prev — Next >

[doomalade]

Hi, I’m back from watching the first episode of Hazbin Hotel, here are my thoughts on it.

But first, here is the swear counter:

Fuck - 22

Shit - 12

Bitch - 5

Damn -

Ass - 2

Cock/Dick - 5

Porn/Sex - 6

Tits/Boobs - 2

Pussy/Vagina/ Cunt - 2

Spoilers under the break.

The Good/ Things I Enjoyed:

Vaggie, Alastor, Charlie, Husk, and Nifty all have pretty good voice acting.

The two that stand out to me as my favorites are Husk and Nifty. Husk sounds well husky. It sounds like he smokes or used to smoke and there’s this gritty gruff to it. It really fits his character well. Like if you had to ask me what the voice of a bar tender gambling winged cat demon was? That is it.

Nifty’s voice acting also hits that sweet spot with her character where it sounds small like a balloon or squeaky toy but also small like a needle or a switch blade if that makes sense.

Overall I love Nifty so much. The gag of her freezing up when Vaggie tries to film her was great. Having it happen twice hit that joke sweet spot of letting it set in and be executed without over staying. It also fits her character well since she’s a little bit weird (such a blorbo) and I would like to headcanon that since she was summoned by Alastor, she kinda shares his distaste for video.

Also I am deeply hoping to hear more Spanish be spoken by Vaggie. Both the upset Spanish ranting and her sweetly singing to Charlie in Spanish. Imagine Charlie singing back also in Spanish. Would be neat I think.

The other two things was the Helluva reference on the side of a van and a Travis cameo. That was neat, adding some consistency to the world.

The Bad / Things I Didn’t Like:

Idk if it was just me but at least at the start, the animation looked choppy when Vaggie and Charlie were speaking at first. But for the rest of the episode it was pretty alright. Certainly doesn’t feel like a professional production level but that is what you get when you pay people slave wages Viv. I do hope that the animators can take some pride in their work, especially the more fluent movements during the songs.

Speaking of songs, Happy Day In Hell is alright. Nothing stand out but it’s good.

Adam’s song meanwhile. Ugh. Not fully committing to the rock/punk, still being another generic pop song, and overall adds onto my issues with Adam as a character and the whole “THE ANGELS ASCTHUCALLY BAD YOU GUYS” thing is, ugh.

It boils down to:

1) If Heaven is also as bad as Hell, why even bother with redemption?

2) Is it just the Exterminators who are corrupt? Also several demons were killed while Charlie sang so like what makes the Exterminations so bad if a second death is constantly happening casually?

3) Why do any of the Exterminators follow Adam? Also Adam has been written as a hand holder for the audience so you know who to hate (he got Stella’d).

4) I see how Viv is trying to tackle the issues of the patriarchy and misogyny in this but like, does she think that redeems her from how she’s handled Helluva Boss? (Once more, Stella.)

On the topic of male characters, who is Alastor anymore? He used to be smug and commanding and set up as a manipulative deal maker that doesn’t really care for the well being of others and now he just kinda walks around mocking Vaggie and Charlie? Idk just feels like Alastor is being added on top of the list of characters (which is like everyone but Vaggie) that don’t believe in Charlie to manage redemption.

Do wish for more spooky moments with him though.

Now onto Angel.

Why does his voice sound like a deflated worm out balloon? It caught me so off guard and it’s just nails on a chalkboard for me.

And the sex jokes, two of which stuck out to me as “can you not?”

“This body was made to be exploited” by Angel. I don’t think I have to explain why having your SA character say that line out loud and frame it as a humorous comment is a good look. Classic Viv moment.

“I like being forced” by Nifty. Yes, what a great line to have given to the small, child appearing character. It felt so forced and pushed outside of Nifty’s usual weirdness too.

Also dare I forget how Amazon had this marked as 15+ (I believe) before changing it to 18+. Which good catch there guys cause during Charlie’s song, we get a quick scene of two demons fucking.

Not saying that scene was quite as offensive as it was just boring middle schooler level humor like Alastor’s ad having a toilet joke in it and Blitzø like drawings/notes at the end.

What did manage to give me the ick was how Nifty and Angel kept hitting on Husk. Nifty not as much, but Angel was just down right creepy. Husk himself states that he is at the hotel against his will (whole new can of worms there) and now Angel is hitting on him and making constant unwanted advances?

But with that we’re meant to clap and ship away but then we jump cut to Adam calling Charlie “babe” over and over and we’re meant to boo? Which direction are we going with this Viv?

One last thing, I knew that Brandon as Katie would sound horrible but I got jumpscared by Tom’s ye ye ass quality voice.

I would give it a 3/10 maybe a 4/10

Just not worth it man

[sunny6677]

Ramble about my day.

TWS FOR KIND OF A VENT TOWARD THE END

This morning started off somewhat peaceful, as I was relaxed after having drawn what I needed to. I saw my friends cat today and pet him a little. And the moon was also in the sky still so it was pretty to look at. Then the bus came—there were surprisingly not that many kids this time around so the bus wasn't that crowded. I think that's cuz there's gonna be a sports game for the school soon tho.

Wasn't able to eat breakfast this morning because they're working on some lights that like lead into the entrance of the Cafeteria—so I sat outside in the humid air while watching my phone, and also ended up getting up cuz of an ant. But the bell rung conveniently at that time, so I went to Psychology.

We're gonna do Drug PSA's for the class, so after filling stuff out on different types of drugs and what not—I chose Crack as the drug I'll be doing for the assignment, which is tomorrow. Also I didn't dream last night so I didn't get to fill out my dream thing.

In Spanish, we listened to a song since we weren't able to yesterday, and said our opinions on it—we also wrote some more stuff down in our journals and overall the mood of the class was quite cheerful.

In Chemistry—I had to cut out another copy of a thing I did because I lost the one I had previously, and I filled out some stuff on it like different chemicals and compounds and what not. And once I finished that, I glued it in my journal, and did my test review while I played Spooky Month as background noise.

In Technology, I did a small choppy animation of a ball rolling and was able to finish rather quickly, so I drew the Tom cookies and cream thing and then played a bit of Roblox afterward. Toward the end of class, I spoke with my friend again and we joked around with these two girls for a bit til the bell rung.

Due to the construction of the lights, we had to go through to the cafeteria in an alternative way which was through another end of the building with the cafeteria inside—and as always, I went to lunch, ate some chips and drank some Cola while playing Roblox. One of my friends also stole my extra bag of chips, and my other friend got dissapointed cuz he couldn't take my food like usual.

Then in English, we just ended up doing a small vocabulary test over our book which I did pretty great on—and then I did a diagnostic for this site our teacher made us log into. And once I finished, I watched Unwanted Guest and Deadly Smiles.

In Theater, I planned out a little more with my partners, with an extra guy from the last time I worked with them coming in since we needed four people and the person that was gonna be our fourth partner wasn't here. We all ended up kinda messing around, discussing, rehearsing, and then toward the end of class after a series of strangely awkward but funny skits—we performed ours. I played the role of the happy customer. I think I might have caught the person playing the salonist off though since I acted really happy jdndnsn.

And then—Geometry. It was fine at first—with me just working on my assignment. Admittedly it was kind of loud, but I could withstand it. My friend who also has sensory issues ended up sort of losing his temper though, screamed at everyone to shut up and started insulting them. I really don't like it when he screams. In all honesty, it frightens me. So I just kind of went quiet, and placed my hands over my ears. The other students didn't do much to help with his anger seeing as they began to just laugh it off, though I'm pretty sure they were just caught off guard and didn't know why he was screaming. One of them though tried to make him even angrier because that person is kind of a douche and never does his work and talks the whole time—and also started arguing with the teacher. When my teacher understandably tried to defend my friend and called out the persons hypocriticism, he just got all pissy and started going on some rant about how he never learns anything from school or anything on the site we used, and decided he'd just up and leave by grabbing his stuff and going out. One of the other ones later on after the long stiff silence ended up randomly deciding to leave as well just to tell the office what happened. My friend ended up being kind of rude to this girl who tried giving him his charger back as well. I felt like crying. My hands were trembling. And I don't know why. I wasn't the one being yelled at. I sent a short email about it to my principal afterward.

Regardless, I went to World History where we took some notes on the older history of India, and some light banter with the teacher ended up cheering me up. The class kept being kinda loud the whole time.

I was sort of overwhelmed after Geometry though, so I didn't take many pictures today. I apologize.

Photos for today:

[vellaphoria]

(ao3 wrapped)

17, 27, & 29 🩷

Thank you for the ask!! <3 17. Your favorite character to write this year? I've been enjoying getting more into Dick's POV lately! When I started in this fandom, I read a bunch of Tim stuff and then a couple of parts of the (1996) Nightwing solo. So I was way more familiar with Tim. But it's been nice digging more into Dick's psyche and motivations (and doubts, and his fear of failure, etc. etc., there are so many fun things to explore and torture him with 😌)

27. What do you listen to while writing? It tends to be a mix of things? If I'm listening to music, then Florence + the Machine and Hozier are pretty good bets, usually. Though when I work on a project for long enough, I tend to make a specific playlist for it. Conversely, I'll sometimes also listen to atmosphere videos on youtube when I want a scene to have a particular sort of vibe (e.g.: a thunderstorm, a spooky abandoned house, a city at night, etc.) 29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? That would probably be this section from Ablution:

Without the torch, the only light comes from the passageway that Ra’s had entered through. When the cavern was well-lit, the shadows had been too thick to see anything. But now… the entrance of it spills a faint, sickly light into the cavern.

With light comes sound. Even though it’s distant, he can just barely hear water - a bubbling, roiling sound that echoes in his ears that whispers poison in Dick’s mind. 

He pulls Tim closer, holding him against his chest once more. Gripping too tightly as his eyes lock onto the passageway and the dim light beyond it. 

Everything he’s been taught - everything he believes - is screaming inside his brain, but it’s nothing next to that single, insidious thought that’s burrowed its way into his fracturing heart.

It should be a hard decision.

It isn't. 

With Tim in his arms, he stands on shaking legs. By now, the adrenaline of the fight is a distant memory. It’s nothing but embers singeing the edges of his thoughts as he drags himself forward. His side aches. His mind screams. Still, he takes step after step, each one bringing him closer, until the mouth of the passage yawns before them.

One step through, and it closes around them. Another, and it swallows them down.

Down and farther down.

The light grows stronger as he descends. The echoes of his footsteps are drowned out by the sound of water.

When he steps into a second, smaller cavern, his senses are overwhelmed by lurid, nauseating green. This close, the walls drown in the light from the choppy waters of the Lazarus Pit, almost like sand at the bottom of shallow water. 

For all that the cave around them is natural, the Pit isn’t. Smooth, even steps have been carved into the edge of it, leading down into the depths. 

From the way the water looks like it’s boiling, he half expects the first step in to burn. But it doesn’t. Instead, through his suit, it feels disconcertingly temperate. 

His grip on Tim tightens. The water rises up around them.

As he reaches the deepest point of the pool, he shifts Tim, lowering him until he’s holding him on the surface of the water.

The light shifts with the Pit itself. Backlit as he is, Tim’s face is a study in contrasts. The lines and planes of it are lit by the glow and sharpened by deepening shadows. For a moment, his face looks like a stranger’s. Then Dick blinks and the effect is gone; all he can see is the familiar face he’s known for all these years.

His fingers shift against Tim’s back.

He pauses for a moment at the point of no return.

Would Tim… want this?

He stares down at Tim. At his empty, lifeless face. 

Does it matter?

[tjreidwrites]

Movie reviews for spooky season!

A Haunted House movie who’s big tag line for promotion was ‘It’s not the house that's haunted’... This film depends on good characters, a creepy atmosphere, uneasy anxiety and scary imagery. James Wan is a legend for launching the ‘Saw’ franchise, and is possibly the best at practical effects in the modern horror genre.

We see a family move into a big old house that happens to be perfect for this haunting movie. Old school, lots of nooks and crannies. The Lambert family seems to have been pretty happy before all this went down. Josh (Patrick Wilson) is a teacher, Renai (Rose Byrne) is a piano player and the boy Dalton (Ty Simpkins) is the kid who likes to get into shit. When he eventually finds himself in the attic, he falls off a ladder. The next morning he doesn't wake up, the doctors say its coma but signs show otherwise.

Renee is the most convinced something supernatural is going on. Doors and windows are opening and closing on themselves. Boxes that are still heavy packed with things are getting shuffled around by who knows what. We (the audience) becomes even more sure than she is as we begin to see the beast in shadows.

The pacing begins to suffer a bit in the second act. As Renai becomes more and more aware of the creepiness and how real it really is, Josh the father starts staying at work to grade papers later than normal, and we get a good twenty minutes of Renai trying to convince Josh something is up. The acting is what saves this section, with some really good performances, its hard to notice the lull in story telling until watching a second time.

They hire a psychic named Elise Rainier (Lin Share), who send over two helpers who mainly exists for comic relief (Angus Sampson and the writer of the film Leigh Whannell). Lin Shaye actually becomes the face of the Insidious franchise, in this first film though, she comes to break the ice and let this family know exactly what she knows this to be by experience.

FINAL THOUGHTS

James Wan nailed this movie when it comes to practical effects, make up, and creating tension by real creepy imagery. There are a lot of jump scares in this film, but the difference is, and the reason this movie is better than all the cookie cutter genre films, is because every scare has some sort of pay off. Every time the score gets more dramatic something actually pops up that is creepy and the camera doesn't just cut away instantly, it lingers on the frame to let us see the creäture we are looking at.

The music plays beautifully with the direction. Lots of stringed instruments playing choppy, creepy chords. The cinematography plays off the writing in the same way, becoming paler in certain instances and brighter in others.

This movie does remind me of my past as well. I remember watching this for the first time in 2011. The scene in Dalton’s room with his dad, Josh. Josh is looking over all of his son’s drawings and comes across a duo that writes ‘Last night I watched myself sleep, and then I flew away.’ As Josh breaks down crying, he is convinced that his son can in fact astro project. In my case, this is called lucid dreaming. I used to be able to know I was dreaming. I used to be able to see myself sleeping and fly away too. Coincidentally, as I've gotten older its become more impossible to lucid dream again. Maybe what they say is true. A childlike mind is so free and capable of anything.

[bengiyo]

Stay By My Side Eps 1 & 2 Stray Thoughts

This is about the new BL out of Taiwan. I will not be watching "the half-brothers getting into each other's pants" from China. I've missed Taiwan, and am excited to see them tackle the supernatural.

Episode 1

Every time I see Taipei I think about how deforested my city is. It's so hot here.

Hot boy on a motorcycle!

Well, we're definitely in BL. We already have Crash Into You just after the first minute. You can't fall in love if you ain't clumsy.

What an interesting choice to telegraph all of the upcoming beats with both leads narrating before even the intro.

Is this guy rich or something? Why do they care if this new student is happy?

Damn, bro, you ain't have to stunt on him like that.

This sister seems familiar to me. Ah, she was in Papa & Daddy as Jerry's sister.

I'm with the biker. This room is messy as hell.

I think this guy on the basketball team was the cafe owner in Be Loved In House: I Do.

What's a little light stalking between roommates?

You know, I'm not with Bu Xia at all. It's a dorm. You're gonna be assigned roommates. Don't touch his stuff.

They broke the damn TV! How will we watch our stories??

Only in a Taiwanese BL would kissing your opponent during an arm wrestling match be a reasonable tactic. I'm going to ignore how that angle was likely impossible.

Wait! There were no ghosts in this episode! I get that they're not supposed to show up around Jiang Chi, but I feel like we needed to establish that he's haunted?

Episode 2

Bu Xia does seem to be a genuinely difficult person to live with.

This man is really eating the spilled chips off Jiang Chi's chest. What the hell.

Now he's got Jiang Chi helping him with his essay? Couldn't be me.

Ah, okay. Now it is time for the spooky

I was really blessed with an excellent roommate my first year of college.

Jiang Chi feels kinda gay.

I do feel a little bad for Bu Xia. His sister could have at least warned him.

Okay, the audio cues when he touched Jiang Chi were funny.

Oh next week looks silly.

This a little choppy. I'll come back next week, but this feels a bit rough around the edges. I don't think I'm keen on Bu Xia.

[twotimefromforsaken]

overwhelmingly gross I should say. It has it's moments

Understandable lol, it took great appeal to me because i just have silly interests. Also it’s unfinished, and probably won’t be finished anytime soon. It’s an animatic as well, some frames have smooth animation and others are choppy (which I love, it just adds a nice feel)!! Cliffside from what I can recall is maybe less darkening? It definitely reminds me of murder drones where it’s the one who wants to save the world or protect something and the meetup of the spooky killer (who is actually really sweet.), though I do know the show does have body horror I wanna say? And maybe blood too but I don’t think it’s heavily added. So just, beware !!!!! Let me not repeat my steps again💀,, also gun action

[theharpermovieblog]

#HARPERSMOVIECOLLECTION

2023

I watched The Night Of The Werewolf, AKA: El Retorno Del Hombre Lobo, AKA: The Return Of The Wolfman (1981)

A dubbed version of a werewolf movie from Director Paul Naschy.

Paul Naschy is a Spanish Actor, Writer, Director, etc... Seen as a true king of Spanish Horror Cinema.

The only other Paul Naschy film I've seen was Horror Rises From The Tomb. I bought it on VHS at a local Halloween store as a kid. I remember nothing about it other than the VHS was grainy and almost unwatchable.

Executed long ago a werewolf returns from the grave to take a love.

This is the kind of foreign film you should see at the drive in. It's very Grindhouse, poorly dubbed, cheaply filmed and edited, but somehow has a bit of late night magic.

Three gorgeous women head into the ruins of an old castle, where the werewolf lord of said castle has just been resurrected by accident. There's a bit of blood, a deformed servant, boobies, gothic style settings, cheap (but awesome) werewolf makeup, vampire women. Everything you'd expect from a movie like this is here. Putting it on during a Halloween playlist wouldn't be a bad idea if you're into this sort of thing.

The plot isn't really all that confusing, but it's definitely scrambled a bit due to the choppy storytelling. At some point, just having the vague idea of what every character wants and needs is enough.

If you're not into old school Spanish, Italian or Mexican horror, this definitely isn't for you. It's pushing itself along with very classic style atmosphere and music and trying to bring a bit of blood into spooky old horror. There is laughable character development,no real building of relationships and it's 15 minutes too long. However, as a person who likes spooky old style foreign horror, this was pretty watchable for me. I like the candlelit softness of some of the shots, the abysmal sound design, the slow but consistent pace. I'm not saying it's good by any means, just that it scratches and itch for me.

In no way do I recommend this movie to anyone but my exact double. But, if you are like me and think lady vampires getting covered in blood is cool, try it out.

[zarla-s]

I agree! It's a shame because the Smiling Critters are otherwise an absolutely pitch-perfect parody of those 80s toy commercials that masqueraded as cartoons, down to the single trait for all the technicolor critters like eating healthy and getting exercise. Even the little cartoon they made for it is incredibly accurate! The fuzz, the jumpy choppy animation, the jittery cels, it's like absolutely spot-on. It's just the design of the critters themselves I don't believe.

If they just eased up a bit they could still get a creepy effect with a manic vacant smile or have the eyes and mouth go black or something during spooky bits, i dunno.

this is almost worse to me lol.

with the eyes it still looks creepy but at least it's like the animators were just being lazy or execs were like NO they have be smiling ALL THE TIME or it's BAD FOR THE BRAND i don't CARE if it looks weird!!

CAN I INTEREST YOU IN THE BOOK OF MORMON

love this manic unicorn lol, space pony lives

I watched a playthrough of the recent chapter of Poppy Playtime and I don't believe the toy designs generally, they're trying a little too hard to be uncanny, but I can believe this little guy. At least his cut-out design anyway.

Like that looks like a real toy I would've loved as a kid! All the other art of him is trying too hard but that cut-out nails it.

[patreon]

[sunny6677]

RAMBLE ABOUT MY DAY

Morning was the same as usual. Humid out, beautiful looking view. I didn't see my friends cat today tho.

The bus arrived, I rode on it and drew the usual stuff (drew the Tom stuff, and then another redraw cuz I forgot to). Got dropped off at school a little later and took this while on the bus still.

I packed two colas for lunch this morning since I wanted something different from Gatorade, and just drank some cola while making a bunch of polls and watching tiktoks til it was time for Psychology.

In Psychology, we discussed addiction and some people chimed in with their own experiences or questions about it. My teacher also approved of a suggestion I made so I got happy. Then I made test corrections during Advisory, and played Roblox when I was done.

And then in Spanish, we took notes about a story over a really sweet heroic dog named Wilson who they lost while searching for missing children in Colombia. It was pretty heart breaking the whole time as I was listening, and most of my classmates seemed pretty upset about Wilson possibly being dead. We're gonna analyze a Spanish song tomorrow because we didn't get to today like we usually do for Wednesdays.

In Chemistry, we did our bellringer and then took some notes over chemical properties. There was also an ant in my journal. Someone ended up squashing it for me though and I felt really bad afterwards.

In Technology, we practiced animation, and I finished pretty quickly with a slightly choppy 24 frame animation of a ball bouncing. And I just kinda spent the rest of the class watching random stuff on YouTube and playing Roblox til we had to go. I also got hugged twice by my friend today so my touch starved ass is feeling great./lh

Then at lunch, nothing much really happened—I played roblox, with one of my friends joining in as I played Natural Disaster cuz we added eachother on there yesterday. And we all kinda joked around the whole time, with one of my friends randomly sitting in my seat when I went to throw my food away, and I just saw them saying "HI I'M [REAL NAME] I'M A LESBIAN AND I LIKE SPOOKY MONTH THATS IT" in a heavy ass accent. Made me giggle even after lunch was over lol.

Then in English we read a little more of our book which.. kinda had some slurs in it?? It was said by a really immature brat of a character so it's obviously not normalized in the book but still jsndsnns. We played Blooket afterwards though and I kept laughing while stealing from other people—and I was also doing pretty good already cuz I'm good with English anyway.

In Theater I sat with my partners from yesterday, and we went over plans for the skit. It's basically gonna be like a peaceful salonist doing a Karen's nails only for her to get pissy cuz she lost her job, then a happy go lucky customer walks in and it turns out they're happy cuz they happened to take the woman's job jsnsns. I also complimented one of them because they had a trans flag on their backpack and he said he made it himself.

And then in Geometry, it was just kinda boring but at least a little more quiet than yesterday. I think I did somewhat better on my assessments online today, so that's at least good.

And finally for World History, I worked on annotations and reading and writing for documents regarding the Noah's Ark flood. This one dude kept complimenting me the whole time cuz of how fast I write and how well I read. And he kept calling me smart. It felt nice but I wasn't sure how to reply so I was kinda quiet the whole time jdndns. That's kinda it tho. We were able to finish before the bell rung luckily so no work for me tomorrow I guess unless we do something.

Other photos I took today

[whanaukaretao]

April Crit Reflections

23 April 2024

Summary

Overall, the work reflected where I'd got to at that point in time. The video drew most people's attention as did the boom box feature image alongside it. The two supplementary images (green bus stop found art and rainbow bus stop anime image) didn't work as well and weren't fully understood. The family portrait drew comment about the 'aggressive" scratching out of the eyes. As a whole, the work didn't match / fully align with the story in my artist statement - which I knew.

General observations

People felt the video successfully conveyed movement. I was surprised and pleased that George, who is Tongan, commented it was "very Pacific". That wasn’t intentional but is understandable given the Albert Wendt commentary and some of the images used. I probably need to include more Māori references to balance this out.

Several people acknowledged the rainbow community factor came through strongly in the video. 

Noel referred to the videos deliberate “choppiness”. More I think by way of general observation I think. The boom box feature print also gave off a similar choppiness.

The second crit noted the quick tempo of the video and suggested a connection with the quick marks on the feature image.

I can't remember what the groups thought about the video’s manipulation of the family photos. Glen said the scratching out of the eyes on the small family print was “aggressive”. So presumably he’d have the same thoughts about the video manipulation. I said the whole work was meant to be quite “street guerrilla” (ie. quickly slapped up on the street walls).

I feel the video could be shorter, I'd half it and possibly make the manipulation section a separate video. I'd also consider a split horizontal screen perhaps with historical imagery.

People thought the robots theme didn't come through strongly enough. They also felt the work as a whole was more dystopian than utopian.

The groups thought the repetition of the collage imagery in the feature image had a roboticness about it. They seemed a bit confused by the overall 80s-ness of the image though.  

The anime and green image was felt to be quite spooky.

With the family photo, Glen said the semiotics (use of signs/symbols and their interpretation) needed more consideration. It was floated that I should look at making the eyes luminescent.