#he spots the camp and mans hungry so once the disciples all go about their business and leave someone to watch over he tries to steal food

[dolokhoded]

simon zealotes you are in my thoughts

[robininthelabyrinth]

Complications (aka trans!Jiang Cheng with a kid) - ao3 or part 1, part 2, part 3

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A-Lian was as good a name as any for the brat, Jiang Cheng supposed. 

He’d been spitefully thinking of additional names ever since Nie Huaisang, that busybody, had decided on the name he liked best, but unfortunately Jiang Lian had a better ring to it than any of the others he’d come up with so far and he wasn’t quite petty enough to condemn his son to a disharmonious name just out of spite.

Assuming A-Lian stayed a son, anyway. Jiang Cheng was still curious as to how the Nie sect had managed to get cursed with an entire generation of women – Nie Huaisang had let slip a few hints that it might’ve had to do with a very fat celestial bird that hadn’t appreciated a comment that had, truly, been meant as a compliment, and anyway they would have made for excellent drumsticks, and honestly the more Jiang Cheng heard about this story the more he wondered if marrying Nie Huaisang just to hear the full version might possibly be worth it – and obviously he wasn’t about to let the Lotus Pier continue to ignore the issue of misaligned reincarnations any longer.

Something he’d have to start enforcing once he was back on the war front, he supposed – which was going to be very soon, if he had his way about it; he was sick and tired of the (nearly completed!) post-pregnancy isolation period.

He couldn’t wait for the relative peace and quiet of an active battlefield.

Of course, the second he thought that, A-Lian started making ominous grumbling sounds, because babies were apparently psychic. Why had no one ever mentioned that?

“You can’t be hungry again, brat,” Jiang Cheng told A-Lian firmly. “I literally just fed you.”

He probably just wanted to burp again, so Jiang Cheng picked him up and started patting him with one hand, using the other to fish out Nie Mingjue’s most recent letter. The other sect leader was quite possibly the most relaxing person he’d ever corresponded with: his letters were practical and to the point, with no extraneous fluff that Jiang Cheng would feel obliged to respond to. 

More importantly, it gave him an update on how his sect was doing, which was all for the best – Nie Mingjue had kept recruitment open for him, which he hadn’t needed to do, and that meant that each letter now contained not only battle strategy and requests for final decisions but also lists of the talent (or lack thereof) of new recruits so that he could make a decision on their admittance as tentative nominal disciples. Final admittance would have to wait until he returned, of course…

He hadn’t gotten a letter from Nie Huaisang yet.

That was to be expected, he supposed. Nie Huaisang had insisted on sticking around for nearly two weeks following the birth to make sure Jiang Cheng didn’t mysteriously expire from complications – the doctors had rolled their eyes a little, but Nie Huaisang’s mother had died from an infection that hadn’t been spotted in time and Jiang Cheng understood his paranoia – and he’d only reluctantly agreed to go, which meant he was probably dragging his feet.

Anyway, just because Nie Huaisang had agreed to tell Wei Wuxian about A-Lian didn’t mean that he could necessarily find Wei Wuxian. His shixiong could be anywhere, after all; contributing to the campaign, of course, but not necessarily in the Jiang sect’s camp…

Ah, yes. Just what Jiang Cheng’s day was missing: the stabbing sense of inadequacy and failure, with a nice slice of the sinking suspicion that his leadership was so bad that he couldn’t even convince his own shixiong to follow him and therefore everyone who was following him was simply humoring him.

“At least you seem to like me well enough,” he muttered to A-Lian, who gurgled happily at him now that the unfortunate burping incident was behind them. “You keep that up, you hear me? You may be a brat, and little more than a blob with arms and legs, but you still have to like me best.”

Nie Huaisang insisted that A-Lian was a gorgeous baby, but Jiang Cheng was having some trouble seeing it. Obviously A-Lian was a baby superior to all other babies, undoubtedly through sheer dumb luck (maybe it skipped a generation?), but he kept worrying that he’d done something wrong, either during the pregnancy or the birth or the care he’d been giving him, and that he’d end up damaging A-Lian for life.

It was easier if he thought of A-Lian as a very resistant blob that would always resume its original shape.

…he really wished Nie Huaisang would write to him and tell him what’d happened when he told Wei Wuxian.

He knew that Wei Wuxian would take it personally, but he wasn’t exactly sure how. Would Wei Wuxian be angry with him? Disappointed, that Jiang Cheng hadn’t just lost his core to the Wens, but his chastity as well? Disdainful that Jiang Cheng had been so desperate for family that he’d decided to carry the child to term, even knowing that its father was their parents’ murderer - that he himself had helped murder the father in turn? Upset, because Wei Wuxian had done so much to rescue him and care for him and even help him get his golden core back, and in return Jiang Cheng did nothing but create another burden that would fall on his shoulders?

Or worse – would Wei Wuxian feel like a failure, too, the way Jiang Cheng always did, and all because he hadn’t been able to save Jiang Cheng from the obvious consequences of his own stupidity?

(It wasn’t that Jiang Cheng hadn’t known when he’d allowed himself to be captured that he’d be tortured and most probably killed, and yet somehow it had never occurred to him that they would do what they did to him – he’d been a man so long that he’d forgotten, just like everyone else in the Lotus Pier, that he’d ever been regarded as anything else. He still didn’t regret the choice he’d made; he’d known that Wei Wuxian would do a better job of avenging his parents than he would and he was right about it, too, wasn’t he?)

Jiang Cheng was so immersed in dark thoughts that he almost – almost – failed to notice when A-Lian started reaching for the ink. Well, flailing around in the general vicinity of the ink, anyway.

“Don’t you even dare think about it, brat. Do you remember bathtime? You don’t like bathtime, and if you get yourself covered in ink, there’s going to be even more bathtime…”

“Jiang-xiong! Jiang-xiong! Are you and A-Lian awake in there?”

It was Nie Huaisang.

He’d returned in person instead of writing a letter; was that a good sign or a bad sign?

“Even if we weren’t, we would be after your yelling,” he shouted back. “What are you, an elephant?”

“A bull!”

“You’re too prissy to be a bull, except for the bullshit you always keep spouting!”

Jiang Cheng waited for Nie Huaisang’s response, which would inevitably be dripping with innuendo, and blinked when there wasn’t anything. That was strange; it wasn’t as if there was anyone here that Nie Huaisang would be embarrassed to –

Oh no.

“Can we come in?” Nie Huaisang asked from outside his door.

Jiang Cheng’s suspicions were confirmed at once when he heard that dreadful ‘we’. Nie Huaisang had returned not with news but with company – company Jiang Cheng still wasn’t sure he was ready to see.

“…fine,” he still said, because there was no point in holding it off any further. He braced himself for Wei Wuxian to sweep into the room like a hurricane.

He was not expecting Jiang Yanli to walk in instead.

“Jiejie!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, and – damn him – felt his eyes start filling up with tears at once. He’d wanted so badly to have her with him during this excruciating process, and she’d even offered, writing him a letter full of concern about the ‘complications’ he was apparently struggling with. But she’d been safe in the Jin sect and he wouldn’t have been able to bear the guilt if something had happened to her on the way to see him.

And that meant he couldn’t say anything, not even in letters that were safe, not even in code, because if he’d so much as breathed a word about what was actually happening, she would have insisted on coming no matter what.

“A-Cheng!” she exclaimed, and rushed over. “Oh, A-Cheng, why didn’t you tell me…”

“I wanted to you to stay safe,” he sniffed. “Travel is so dangerous, and if something happened because of me –”

“Oh, A-Cheng…” She wrapped her arms around him. “I just wish I’d been here for you. You must have been so scared!”

“I have nightmares that say he was mostly just really angry,” Nie Huaisang put in, unhelpful as always; Jiang Cheng didn’t even bother to spare him a glance.

“You were here,” he assured her. “You sent me soup every week; I ate that when I couldn’t keep anything else down –”

A particularly vicious surge of late-onset morning sickness. It’d been a bad ten days.

“You still should’ve told us,” and that was Wei Wuxian, standing in the door next to Nie Huaisang with his shoulders up by his ears defensively, but Jiang Cheng was curled up in his sister’s arms so even if Wei Wuxian was horribly disappointed in him he would be able to handle it.

With Jiang Yanli there, he could handle anything.

“Probably should have,” he agreed, because Wei Wuxian was right. Opting to carry A-Lian at all was a stupid risk to have taken in the first place, given the likelihood of dying in childbirth and leaving the Jiang sect without a leader during their time of need, but – well, that’d been a risk he’d accepted the first time around when he’d given himself up to save Wei Wuxian. It hadn’t seemed so bad the second time, even though he knew he risked wasting all of Wei Wuxian’s hard work in rescuing and getting his core back. “Didn’t, though. You want to hold the brat?”

“Of course I want to hold the brat!” And when Jiang Cheng looked over, Wei Wuxian was smiling. Smiling. “I have to hold him! He’s my shizi!”

“What are you naming him?” Jiang Yanli asked as Wei Wuxian reached over to pick A-Lian up.

“…Jiang Lian,” Jiang Cheng finally admitted, and any embarrassing comments Nie Huaisang might have had to say about it – Jiang Cheng expected whooping in triumph, to be perfectly honest – were drowned out by A-Lian abruptly howling in indignation that this strange person had dared pick him up.

“Jiang Cheng! Jiang Cheng! The baby’s crying!” Wei Wuxian wailed. He sounded like a baby himself.

“Oh for the – give him here!” The second A-Lian returned to Jiang Cheng’s arms, the crying stop and the baby settled back down. He looked a little smug, even.

“It seems A-Lian likes A-Cheng the best,” Jiang Yanli said, covering her mouth with a smile. “Can I try?”

There were still tears, though not quite as many.

“He’ll get used to you eventually,” Jiang Cheng said, as if he wasn’t preening at his son’s excellent taste. “If you stick around, that is.”

“As if you’ll be able to get rid of us,” Wei Wuxian huffed, and that made something warm and happy and glowing appear in Jiang Cheng’s chest. “You know, it’s really unfair, Jiang Cheng! I put in all this work and effort into developing demonic cultivation and inventing all sorts of new things, and in a mere ten months you managed to make something even better.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help the laugh that broke free, his heart singing happily – Wei Wuxian didn’t hate him, wasn’t disappointed in him, was happy for him. “It wasn’t really something I was actively working on.”

“Rude. No need to rub it in.”

And just because Jiang Cheng was Jiang Cheng, he had to affirmatively check: “You’re not upset, are you?”

“Only that you robbed us of the opportunity to spoil you rotten,” Wei Wuxian said. “Oh, and for having Nie Huaisang tell me about it – I only found out because he and his brother were betting on the gender.”

Jiang Cheng twisted around in Jiang Yanli’s arms to glare at Nie Huaisang.

“I lost,” Nie Huaisang said, as if that would make things better, and weirdly enough it sort of did. “Never bet against da-ge.”

Jiang Cheng thought about it and nodded. That seemed like a good rule, no matter the circumstances – and anyway, if that meant that Nie Mingjue was there when Wei Wuxian was told, that was all the better. As far as Jiang Cheng was concerned, there was nothing in the world that Nie Mingjue couldn’t handle.

He wished he could one day be even half of what Nie Mingjue was. Confident and self-assured, an excellent sect leader beloved by all, a war leader and a filial son, righteous and terrifying…

“I hope he won something good off of you,” he told Nie Huaisang, who grimaced at him in a way that suggested Nie Mingjue really had won something good. “You deserve it.”

“You have no sympathy for me,” Nie Huaisang whined.

“Forget sympathy for you, what about sympathy for me?” Wei Wuxian put in. “‘Oh, hi, Wei Wuxian, nice to see you, been a long time, guess what, your shizi’s a boy!’”

Okay, that sounded really funny actually. Jiang Cheng kind of regrets missing it.

He smirked at Wei Wuxian, who saw it and made a rude gesture in return.

“It was traumatizing,” Wei Wuxian said with a sniff. “Really, truly. Shijie, you need to make me some soup to help me get over it.”

“No way,” Jiang Cheng said at once. “If she’s making soup, she’s making it for me.”

“You’ve apparently been getting her soup every week for the past few months; I deserve it more!”

“I’m the one getting my chest gnawed off by a wild animal three times a day –”

“I can make enough for both of you,” Jiang Yanli said patiently. “Nie-gongzi, is there a kitchen..?”

“I’ll show you the way,” Nie Huaisang said with a grin. “I’m eager to see how this famous soup gets made. I had to beg Jiang-xiong for three weeks to get a single spoonful, and it was worth every minute of it.”

“You flatter me…”

They left together, and Jiang Cheng used the opportunity to scrub the tear tracks off his face as best as he could.

“It really was pretty traumatizing,” Wei Wuxian said, pointedly only looking at an increasingly sleepy A-Lian instead of seeing what Jiang Cheng was doing. “Not as traumatizing as the lecture Chifeng-zun gave me afterwards about how badly I’ve been behaving.”

“Badly?” Jiang Cheng said, frowning. “What do you mean, you’ve been fine; the effect your demonic cultivation has been having against the Wens alone –”

“No, I haven’t been,” Wei Wuxian said, and his tone was uncharacteristically serious. “Not because of the demonic cultivation, but because I haven’t been standing by your side the way I promised I would.”

“You’re doing your best,” Jiang Cheng said firmly. “You have demonic cultivation now, and that means you can do a lot more things – it makes sense for your to be at the front line.”

“I’m not saying that I shouldn’t be at the front line. I’m saying that I promised you that you’d be my sect leader, that I’d follow you, and instead I keep treating you like you’re still my shidi. Making decisions on your behalf, insisting on doing things my way because I think I’m right…” Wei Wuxian shook his head. “I got used to doing things that way, all these years. But things are different now. You’re my sect leader. Decisions like how to best deploy me are your decision, not mine – if you want me by your side instead of on the front, I should do that; if you want me to lead the Jiang sect cultivators, I should be doing that. I can try to persuade you that my plan is better, but in the end, if I’m going to be part of the Jiang sect, I need to accept that it’s your word that’s final, because anything else would be disrespectful – and I don’t want to disrespect you, Jiang Cheng. Sect Leader Jiang.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jiang Cheng said, words sharp but only because otherwise he’d have to acknowledge that he was crying again. He hadn’t even known he’d wanted to hear that from Wei Wuxian until he had – he hadn’t realized how important it was that Wei Wuxian finally acknowledged him, that Wei Wuxian thought he was capable of being sect leader; he hadn’t realized how much his feelings had been tangled up by the fact that Wei Wuxian still treated him as if he was just a foolish child that didn’t know better. “Everyone else can call me that, but you call me Jiang Cheng, okay? Always.”

He reached over and grabbed Wei Wuxian around the shoulders, drawing him into a tight one-armed embrace.

“Watch the baby,” Wei Wuxian said, as if he wasn’t hugging back just as hard. “Don’t drop my shizi because you’re not paying attention.”

“I’m not going to drop him,” Jiang Cheng said, grateful for the mostly-a-joke. “Does that – does that mean you’re coming back to the Jiang sect? For real this time?”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian said. “I am. No more running around outside, I promise.”

Jiang Cheng’s hands were busy, holding his shidi in one and his son in the other, so he had to bury his face into Wei Wuxian’s shoulder to help stop the flow of tears. “Wei Wuxian,” he said. “You really don’t – you’re not angry at me?”

“Why would I be angry at you?” Wei Wuxian said, pulling back and frowning at him and then frowning even more when Jiang Cheng made a flailing sort of gesture with his head towards A-Lian. “For - for that?! Jiang Cheng, it wasn’t your fault you got captured!”

It sort of was, actually, and Jiang Cheng has always been a terrible liar; he shouldn’t have let his insecurities get away from him enough to even ask, because now Wei Wuxian’s eyes were the ones filling up with tears. He’d never been an idiot.

“You didn’t,” he insisted, and his hands were white-knuckled where he grabbed onto Jiang Cheng’s arms. He was probably leaving bruises, and neither of them cared. “Jiang Cheng, tell me you didn’t! Don’t – in the marketplace, when the Wens were about to find me – Jiang Cheng…!”

“Someone needed to avenge our parents, and you were the better choice!” Jiang Cheng blurted out. “And I was right, wasn’t I? You did it! You even invented demonic cultivation –”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “There wasn’t any other way out of the Burial Mounds, and now I’m stuck, Jiang Cheng – you don’t understand, it’s not just, I don’t – I can’t – it’s demonic cultivation or nothing for me, and when the war ends, when it stops being useful and starts being horrifying, the entire cultivation world is going to turn against me, and I can’t bring you down with me –”

“Why are you talking like it’s the only type of cultivation you can do anymore?” Jiang Cheng demanded. “How can one type of cultivation block you from doing another? That doesn’t make any sense – even if it did block you, you could just stop, it’s not like you don’t have a golden core –”

Wei Wuxian didn’t say anything.

“You have a golden core,” Jiang Cheng said again, more urgently this time. “Wei Wuxian, you have a golden core, right? You didn’t –” He was starting to panic. “It was Wen Chao that threw you into the Burial Mounds, wasn’t it? He said it himself that that was what he did, and where there’s Wen Chao, there’s Wen Zhuliu – did he melt your core? And I took your name when we went to Baosan Sanren’s mountain, I took your birthright away from you –”

“Jiang Cheng, no! That’s not what happened!”

“You told me to tell her I was you!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, because what else could it be? Baosan Sanren was a true immortal, powerful enough to fix a golden core, but everyone knew that her disciples weren’t allowed back onto the mountain once they’d left – the gift she’d given him, reviving his core, that must have been a once-in-a-lifetime offer. “I told her I was you so she’d heal me and now she won’t heal you; I did to you what Mother was always afraid you’d do to me –”

“I lied!” Wei Wuxian cried out, and he sounded as if his heart was being torn out of his chest. “I lied, Jiang Cheng, stop trusting me so much! There’s no Baosan Sanren, no mountain; just me, making stupid decisions on your behalf again, because I’m arrogant, because I think I know better, because I –”

“What did you do?” Jiang Cheng said. His lips felt numb. His whole body felt numb. “Wei Wuxian, what did you do –”

A-Lian burst into tears.

That knocked them both out of their self-absorption, turning at once to see what was wrong with the baby.

“Did we jostle him?” Wei Wuxian asked anxiously once they’d gotten A-Lian a little calmer. “We didn’t hurt him, did we?”

“I think we were just being too loud,” Jiang Cheng said after concluding his inspection. “And anyway, he’s kind of a blob right now – you pinch or pull at him and he goes back the way he used to be. The doctors all say that babies are very flexible.”

“A little bun,” Wei Wuxiand agreed. “With just a little dusting of sesame on top.”

Jiang Cheng looked at the very few scraps of black hair A-Lian had managed to grow. “…he does kind of look like that, doesn’t he? Come on, A-Lian, calm down, it’s okay, we’ll stop yelling, we promise –”

“Really?” Wei Wuxian said. He sounded skeptical. “You’re going to stop yelling?”

“Shut up, you sound like Nie Huaisang. Don’t think you’re getting away without telling me what you did…you gave me yours, didn’t you?”

No wonder his core had felt different, stronger, when he’d woken up – he’d assumed it was Baosan Sanren giving him a gift, but in reality it was only that Wei Wuxian was a better cultivator than he was, that he’d strengthened himself more.

No wonder, too, that his core had felt familiar – he’d pressed his ear against Wei Wuxian’s belly a thousand times, feeling the warmth of it, and he’d mistaken that familiarity for it being his.

Wei Wuxian nodded, and Jiang Cheng scowled. “Can it be reversed?”

“Absolutely not,” Wei Wuxian said at once. “For one thing, I wouldn’t agree; for another, it was only a fifty-fifty chance of it working successfully the first time, I’m not taking that risk again. Anyway, I have demonic cultivation now, and if we traded back, you’d need to be the demonic cultivator, and what would that do to the Jiang sect’s reputation?”

Jiang Cheng hated it when Wei Wuxian had a point.

“Especially now that we have an heir,” Wei Wuxian added, reaching out to rub A-Lian’s head. “You’ve got to make sure the Jiang sect is thriving so that you’ll have something good to hand down to him.”

Jiang Cheng really hated it when Wei Wuxian had a point.

“I can’t believe you did that for me,” he said.

“I can’t believe you got captured for me,” Wei Wuxian rebutted. But that wasn’t the same at all, it was –

Okay, maybe there were a few superficial similarities.

“At least that explains why you’ve been so distant,” he said, shaking his head and smoothing A-Lian’s minimal hair down as the baby started to fall asleep again. “I thought you just didn’t trust me to be a good sect leader…”

“What? No! Jiang Cheng, you’re a great sect leader. I just didn’t want to risk dragging you down.”

“How can you drag us down? I’m literally using your golden core to lead the sect!”

“It’s yours now,” Wei Wuxian said. “I built it up, but I can’t decide on how you use it – everything you’ve done since then, that’s still yours. You know that, right? It’s all still you. Your achievements, not mine. Saying it’s mine would be like saying that every person that Chifeng-zun has ever defeated was actually the triumph of whoever forged Baxia for him.”

Jiang Cheng would murder anyone who dared to say something like that, except he’d never get the chance to because Nie Huaisang would have ruined their life before he’d even gotten started.

“Fine,” he said. “But you’re still not dragging us down. We’ll just have to be careful, that’s all – we can even use it to our advantage: whenever we need something to happen that we can’t really admit to, we have you do it, excuse it as being because of the influence of your demonic cultivation, and tell everyone we’ll get right on fixing it right away. Just the way Father used to do with Mother’s temper tantrums.”

“…wait, those were staged?”

“Well, some of them were, anyway,” Jiang Cheng said. He was mostly sure. “But you have to run anything really crazy by me first, okay?”

“Right,” Wei Wuxian said, nodding. “Uh – does that count past actions?”

Jiang Cheng wasn’t even surprised. “What’d you do?”

“Promised a safe harbor to one of the branch families of the Wen sect?”

Jiang Cheng might be gullible where his shixiong was concerned, but he wasn’t dumb. “Wen Qing and Wen Ning? They’re the ones that helped you do – what you did.”

Wei Wuxian nodded guiltily.

“Well, in that case, I can hardly turn them down, can I?” Jiang Cheng said, pretending to grumble. “That’d make me ungrateful. Fine; I retroactively authorize your offer, they can come be guest disciples at the Jiang sect –”

Wei Wuxian hugged him again.

“If you wake the baby up again I will kill you,” Jiang Cheng said, but he hugged him back.

“I think they’re done,” Nie Huaisang’s voice drifted in from the door, and they both turned to look.

Jiang Yanli’s eyes were red, suggesting that she’d been listening – and Jiang Cheng hated that, hated that he’d ever caused her pain or sadness; his jiejie deserved the best things in life, always, not more pain and disappointment and everything he brought with him. But true to form she didn’t say anything, only smiled and said, “I knew A-Xian and A-Cheng would talk it out eventually.”

“Bet you didn’t predict the baby,” Nie Huaisang chirped, and then cowered when all three of them glared at him. “Sorry, sorry. Please ignore me.”

“In the future, there will be no such secrets, understood?” Jiang Yanli said to them, with more steel than usual in her soft voice. “A-Xian will tell us before he does something crazy, and A-Cheng won’t not tell us when something important happens –”

“Well, it’s hardly likely to happen a second time,” Jiang Cheng protested, but not very strongly.

“Hey, don’t be so hasty,” Nie Huaisang said. “We could want more kids after we get married.”

“Wait,” Wei Wuxian said. “When did –”

“We are not getting married!” Jiang Cheng bellowed. It was a good thing that A-Lian apparently found Jiang Cheng’s yelling soothing, or else he would’ve woken up again. “Nie Huaisang, stop telling people we’re getting married!”

“I don’t tell people we’re getting married, I only tell you!”

“That’s not better!”

“Wow,” Wei Wuxian said to Jiang Yanli, voice deliberately pitched obnoxiously loud. “It’s almost like they’re married already –”

“Wei Wuxian! I will throw something at your head, just watch me!”

“Just don’t throw the baby!”

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

7 Horror Reads to Chill Your Soul This Summer

It’s summertime, and word on the street is that the livin’ is easy. If you’re anything like me, summer’s arrival means that you’re hiding in the air conditioning and comfort of your home (mosquitos find me quite the tasty treat and I’m not trying to contract West Nile). Othersout there who aren’t as delicious to the carnivorous ectoparasites of the world as I am are hitting the road. They’re going to the beach, they’re camping, and they’re laying in the sun to absorb the delectable, radioactive rays of the sun. It’s the time of cold drinks, loud music, and if you’re a fiend like the rest of here at NOFS, spooky stories.

While the rest of the world tries to limit the creepy and macabre to the month of October, we live a life of perpetual petrification. When you’re at the beach or hanging out by the pool, let the other people get in and splash around like shark bait. We know that there’s nothing sweeter than a horror novel to help keep you cool and take your breath away. So, for this article, I’m going to highlight some of my favorite horror novels that are great summer reads.

So what makes a horror novel a “Great Summer Read”? Well, brevity is a plus. We don’t really want to be lugging around Stephen King’s IT or Robert McCammon’s Swan Song on our way to the beach or up a hiking trail. I struggle to carry those beasts from my bookshelf to the couch, to be honest. So, while it’s not an automatic disqualification, I tried to stay away from the 1,000 page behemoths of the horror world. I also tried to take a look at subject matter and pick titles that involve summer, summer breaks, vacations, or basically anything that can whisk you away to land of pure imagination. Basically what I’m saying to all of you is that this is a completely subjective list. I loved reading these titles either this summer or in summers past, and I think you will, too.

So, without further ado, here is my list of Great Summer Horror Reads:

  1. The Troop by Nick Cutter

    This was the first novel I read from Nick Cutter, and it hooked me for life. It follows a troop of 5 14-year-old boys as they embark on their yearly summer scout adventure on Falstaff Island, an uninhabited area not far from their home on Prince Edward Island. Their excursion is cut short when a bone-thin, obviously diseased man who tries to eat everything in sight lands on the island. Scoutmaster Tim does his best to help the man, but he is soon overtaken and the boys face a nightmare that worms its way into the group and destroys what they thought they knew about themselves.

This book is gory. It is disgusting. It is a vivid walking nightmare that is best read out in the open air, surrounded by other people. Nick Cutter has proven himself to be one of the most visual authors in the horror genre, and never is that more evident than in The Troop. He uses the remote setting and the fear of foreign beings inside your body with an insatiable appetite to create a suffocating sense of paranoia and claustrophobia. You are trapped on this small island with these boys as they fight the disease that brought the skeletal man to their shores, and you must find the survivor inside of you to make it off.

Perfect For: A long hike and camp in the wilderness. Read it by the light of your Coleman lantern. Don’t worry about the noises you hear in the darkness, they only approach when they’re hungry…

  2. The Cabin at the End of the World by Paul Tremblay

    I didn’t think that a book would ever crawl inside my bones quite like Tremblay’s A Head Full of Ghosts did. I was wrong. His new novel, The Cabin at the End of the World is his most tense, terrifying book to date, which is saying a lot.

Seven-year-old Wen and her dads are vacationing at their cabin deep in the forests of New Hampshire when she is approached by a giant stranger. He seems pretty weird, and he tells her that her dads are not going to want to let him in the house, but that they have to. Then three more just like him show up. Wen runs into the cabin and her parents barricade the door. The strangers approach, and they knock. They are disciples of a god that visits them in visions, and Wen and her parents are the only people capable of ending the coming apocalypse.

This is much more than a home-invasion story. It’s s tale of survival, sacrifice, apocalypse and doom that has you guessing until the very last chapter. Not only is the fate of this loving family at risk, but the future of the entire human race may just rest on their shoulders. (Side note: The Cabin at the End of the World is the first horror novel that I have read that has a queer family at its center. I know there must be others, but this is a first for me. Well done, Paul Tremblay.)

Perfect For: Staying at that creepy lodge you booked online. You and your family should be just fine! Maybe just don’t answer the door when you hear a knock, ok?

  3. Providence by Caroline Kepne

    You may know the name Caroline Kepnes from her amazing novel You, which has been turned into a series for Lifetime that will air this fall. Her depiction of narcissist/psycopath Joe Goldberg was refreshing, funny, dark, and utterly terrifying. Providence, her third novel, follows a different path than her earlier works, but it is just as gripping and horrifying.

One morning, middle-schooler Jon Bronson is abducted from his small New Hampshire town (what is the deal with New Hampshire, you guys? I mean, is it really that spooky?). He awakens at his home four years later with no memory of his kidnapping or his captivity. Beside him is a copy of H.P. Lovecraft’s The Dunwich Horror and a letter from his abductor that tells him that he is fine, but he has an un-specified special ability. The joy that his best friend Chloe feels after his return is smashed to pieces once they find out that his “special ability” begins to threaten the lives of those he loves.

Kepnes is one of the finest authors in the world and she is a master at creating pace and tension. All three of her novels force your eyes across the page like they are tied to the front of a freight train. Providence is an exploration of not only what makes us human, but what keeps us that way.

Perfect For: Sitting on the back porch with a sweet tea and plenty of sunshine. Be sure to pack sunscreen for the rays and extra Kleenex for the nosebleeds that will splatter the page.

  4. Some Will Not Sleep by Adam Nevill

    A bestial face appears at windows in the night. In the big white house on the hill, angels are said to appear. A forgotten tenant in an isolated building becomes addicted to milk. A strange goddess is worshipped by a home-invading disciple. The least remembered gods still haunt the oldest forests. Cannibalism occurs in high society at the end of the world. The sainted undead follow their prophet to the Great Dead Sea. A confused and vengeful presence occupies the home of a first-time buyer . . .

If you have read any of my articles, then you know how much I love Adam Nevill and his terrifying tales. I was able to interview him last year (check it out HERE), and that piece remains the highlight of my journalistic career. Most of you may know him as the author of The Ritual and Last Days, but I fell like his work that is most like a “Great Summer Read” is his collection of short stories, Some Will Not Sleep.

While the book itself has some girth, it is conveniently sectioned into several perfectly crafted short tales of the horrifying and disturbing. These stories, according to Nevill on his website, were written and published between 1995 and 2011, and they reflect fears that are often the author’s own. About the title of the book, I can’t explain it better than the Master himself:

Some within it do not sleep, some who read it may not sleep, and he who wrote it often doesn’t sleep.

Perfect For: Reading in the car on the way to your destination. That way, the nightmares hopefully won’t be able to find you as you travel down the road.

  5. Rabbit in Red: The Complete Series by Joe Chianakas

    (Disclaimer: Joe is a local author that I have had the pleasure of working with in the past through my job. The inclusion of his series was neither asked for nor was it paid for… Joe… come on, man. GIVE ME SOME MONEY, BRO!)

Have you ever wondered what it would be like if Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory was designed, created and run by Rob Zombie? Well, wonder no more! This series of books (the first of which was selected to be included in a 2016 Horror Block and sent out to tens-of-thousands of subscribers), compiled together in one volume, follows a group of teens as they spend their summer vacation competing for an internship under the reclusive owner of a horror film company.

They compete in VR challenges that mirror some of the most iconic scenes in horror film history and intense trivia that will leave even the most knowledgable horror hounds scratching their heads. This series of books is a quick read that will keep you up at night as the kids win their internships and enter the dark web of their beneficiary. It is a love letter to the horror genre and, as it did with me, it will make you fall in love with the genre all over again.

Perfect For: Handing out to your teenage niece or nephew when they visit for the week. They have annoyed you enough with the youth-words that they use, so it will feel really good to keep them up at night.

  6. Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror by Steve Alten

    You didn’t think I would put out a list like this and not include a shark book? You know nothing about me! Instead of going with the classic Jaws by Peter Benchley (which, to be honest, I really do not care for), I decided to opt for the book that started the series that the next great shark movie, The Meg, is based on.

Jonas Taylor is a deep sea diver working with the United States Navy. He spots a Megalodon while on a top-secret mission in the Mariana Trench. No body believes him, of course, because the Megalodon is supposed to have been extinct for millions of years. To prove them wrong, Jonas becomes a paleontologist (as one does) and attempts to find the beast again. His wish is granted when he returns to the Trench, only this time, one of the beasts follows him back up to the surface.

Chaos ensues. People are gobbled up like Tic Tacs and there’s only one man in the world that can stop it. JASON MOTHERF**KING STATH… oh, sorry… JONAS TAYLOR!

It’s ridiculous in all the right ways. It is a 50’s monster movie come to life with thrills, chills, blood and awesome one-liners.

Perfect For: Enjoying the bay while laying on one of those giant inflatable pool floats that look like a swan. You know the ones! Take a deep breath, relax, and hope that there’s nothing watching you from beneath the waves.

  7. Malevolents: ‘Click Click’ by Thom Burgess and Joe Becci

    I must say that I am a novice in the realm of horror comics. I know that there are a lot of them out there, but I’ve just never gotten into that style of horror literature. I can gladly say that Malevolents: ‘Click Click’ has opened my eyes to a whole new world of terror.

This incredible comic book from award winning writer Thom Burgess follows four school friends who dare one another to spend the night in one of Britain’s most haunted houses. They bring along with them an Ouija Board (what could go wrong), and tell each other the story of the ghost that lives in the walls and wants to take your tongue from your mouth.

I include it in this list because it is short (only 32 pages or so), it’s horrifying, and it transports you to a different place and time. If you’re stuck at home due to work or insufficient funds, Malevolents will take you on a trip that you will never forget.

Perfect For: Reading by flashlight after a summer storm has knocked out your power. If you don’t look at the shadows crawling out of the walls, they won’t come after you… I promise. ‘Click’

So, there you have it! Whether you’re out and about this summer or hanging out in the house like me, here are 7 horror reads that will chill your bones and keep you cool as the temperature rises. Do yourself a favor and pick these titles up today! While you’re at it, join our Facebook group, Horror Fiends of Nightmare on Film Street, and let us know what you think.

  The post 7 Horror Reads to Chill Your Soul This Summer appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

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[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for Sunday, november 29 of 2020 with Proverbs 29 and Psalm 29, accompanied by Psalm 69 for the 69th day of Autumn, and Psalm 33 for day 334 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 3rd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 29]

The one who remains defiant after repeated reprimands

will suddenly be shattered, and there will be no remedy for him.

When just leaders are in power, the citizens celebrate;

but when evil people gain control, their joys become moans.

An adult who loves wisdom and follows its ways gives his parents joy,

but one who hangs out with women of the street will lose everything.

A king brings stability to a land with his justice,

but one who makes unjust demands brings it to ruin.

The one who flatters his friend

is laying a trap that will catch his friend’s feet.

An evil person is sure to be trapped by his sin,

but a man who lives right is free to sing and be glad.

The just get involved with the poor and know their issues,

but the wicked cannot comprehend such concerns.

Mockers stir up a city and inflame passions,

but the wise know how to put out the fire and ease tensions.

When the wise go to court against a fool,

there will be ranting and raving but no resolution.

Bloodthirsty men despise those who are honest,

but the just find a way to help them.

A fool does not think before he unleashes his temper,

but a wise man holds back and remains quiet.

When it is known that a ruler listens to the words of liars,

soon he will have only scoundrels for advisors.

A poor man and his oppressor have this in common:

the Eternal created them and provides both with light and life.

The king who is fair in his treatment of the poor

will see his dynasty continue forever.

Corporal punishment and correction produce wisdom,

but a child left to follow his own willful way shames his mother.

When evil people are free to flourish, sin is on the rise,

but the just will surely see their destruction.

If you discipline your children, they will make your life easier

and refresh your soul.

Where there is no vision from God, the people run wild,

but those who adhere to God’s instruction know genuine happiness.

Words are not enough to correct a servant;

even if he understands, he will not respond.

Have you ever met someone who is overly eager to talk?

There is more hope for a fool than for him.

If you indulge your servant from early in life,

in the end it won’t go well for either of you.

A hot-head provokes quarrels,

and one mastered by anger commits all kinds of sins.

A person’s pride brings him down,

but one of humble spirit has a firm hold on honor and respect.

Anyone who teams up with a thief must despise his own life,

for he is bound by an oath to tell the truth and yet refuses.

If you fear other people, you are walking into a dangerous trap;

but if you trust in the Eternal, you will be safe.

Many people vie for special treatment from a ruler,

yet genuine justice proceeds from the Eternal.

The right-living are disgusted by the actions of the unjust;

likewise, the wicked are disgusted by the ways of the righteous.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 29 (The Voice)

[Psalm 29]

A song of David.

Give all credit to the Eternal, O heavenly creatures;

give praise to Him for His glory and power.

Give to the Eternal the glory due His name;

worship Him with lavish displays of sacred splendor.

The voice of the Eternal echoes over the great waters;

God’s magnificence roars like thunder.

The Eternal’s presence hovers over all the waters.

His voice explodes in great power over the earth.

His voice is both regal and grand.

The Eternal’s voice shatters the cedars;

His power splinters the great cedars of Lebanon.

He speaks, and Lebanon leaps like a young calf;

Sirion jumps like a wild, youthful ox.

The voice of the Eternal cuts through with flames of fire.

The voice of the Eternal rumbles through the wilderness

with great quakes;

He causes Kadesh to tremble.

The Eternal’s voice brings life from the doe’s womb;

His voice strips the forest bare,

and all the people in the temple declare, “Glory!”

The Eternal is enthroned over the great flood;

His reign is unending.

We ask You, Eternal One, to give strength to Your people;

Eternal One, bless them with the gift of peace.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 29 (The Voice)

[Psalm 69]

For the worship leader. A song of David to the tune “Lilies.”

Reach down for me, True God; deliver me.

The waters have risen to my neck; I am going down!

My feet are swallowed in this murky bog;

I am sinking—there is no sturdy ground.

I am in the deep;

the floods are crashing in!

I am weary of howling;

my throat is scratched dry.

I still look for my God

even though my eyes fail.

My enemies despise me without any cause;

they outnumber the hairs on my head.

They torment me with their power;

they have absolutely no reason to hate me.

Now I am set to pay for crimes

I have never committed!

O True God, my foolish ways are plain before You;

my mistakes—no, nothing can be hidden from You.

Don’t let Your hopeful followers face disgrace because of me,

O Lord, Eternal One, Commander of heaven’s armies;

Don’t let Your seekers be shamed on account of me,

O True God of Israel.

I have been mocked when I stood up for You;

I cower, shamefaced.

You know my brothers and sisters?

They now reject me—they act as if I never existed.

I’m like a stranger to my own family.

And here’s why: I am consumed with You, completely devoted to protecting Your house;

when they insult You, they insult me.

When I mourn and discipline my soul by fasting,

they deride me.

And when I put on sackcloth,

they mock me.

Those who sit at the gate gossip about me;

I am shamed by the slurred songs of drunkards.

But, Eternal One, I just pray the time is right

that You would hear me. And, True God,

because You are enduring love, that You would answer.

In Your faithfulness, please, save me.

Pluck me from this murky bog;

don’t let it pull me down!

Pull me from this rising water;

take me away from my enemies to dry land.

Don’t let the flood take me under

or let me, Your servant, be swallowed into the deep

or let the yawning pit seal me in!

O Eternal One, hear me. Answer me. For Your enduring love is good comfort;

in Your great mercy, turn toward me.

Yes, shine Your face upon me, Your servant;

put an end to my anguish—don’t wait another minute.

Come near; rescue me!

Set me free from my enemies.

You know all my opponents;

You see them, see the way they treat me—

humiliating me with insults, trying to disgrace me.

All this ridicule has broken my heart,

killed my spirit.

I searched for sympathy, and I came up empty.

I looked for supporters, but there was no one.

Even more, they gave me poison for my food

and offered me only sour vinegar to drink.

Let them be ambushed at the dinner table,

caught in a trap when they least expect it.

Cloud their vision so they cannot see;

make their bodies shake, their knees knock in terror.

Pour out Your fiery wrath upon them!

Make a clean sweep; engulf them with Your flaming fury.

May their camps be bleak

with not one left in any tent.

Because they have persecuted the one You have struck,

add insult to those whom You have wounded.

Compound their sins; don’t let them off the hook!

Keep them from entering into Your mercy.

Blot out their names from Your book of life

so they will not be recorded alongside those who are upright before You.

I am living in pain; I’m suffering,

so save me, True God, and keep me safe in troubled times!

The name of the True God will be my song,

an uplifting tune of praise and thanksgiving!

My praise will please the Eternal more than if I were to sacrifice an ox

or the finest bull. (Horns, hooves, and all!)

Those who humbly serve will see and rejoice!

All you seekers-after-God will revive your souls!

The Eternal listens to the prayers of the poor

and has regard for His people held in bondage.

All God’s creation: join together in His praise! All heaven, all earth,

all seas, all creatures of the ocean deep!

The True God will save Zion

and rebuild the cities of Judah

So that His servants may own it and live there once again.

Their children and children’s children shall have it as their inheritance,

and those who love His name will live in it.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 69 (The Voice)

[Psalm 34]

A David Psalm, When He Outwitted Abimelech and Got Away

I bless God every chance I get;

my lungs expand with his praise.

I live and breathe God;

if things aren’t going well, hear this and be happy:

Join me in spreading the news;

together let’s get the word out.

God met me more than halfway,

he freed me from my anxious fears.

Look at him; give him your warmest smile.

Never hide your feelings from him.

When I was desperate, I called out,

and God got me out of a tight spot.

God’s angel sets up a circle

of protection around us while we pray.

Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—

how good God is.

Blessed are you who run to him.

Worship God if you want the best;

worship opens doors to all his goodness.

Young lions on the prowl get hungry,

but God-seekers are full of God.

Come, children, listen closely;

I’ll give you a lesson in God worship.

Who out there has a lust for life?

Can’t wait each day to come upon beauty?

Guard your tongue from profanity,

and no more lying through your teeth.

Turn your back on sin; do something good.

Embrace peace—don’t let it get away!

God keeps an eye on his friends,

his ears pick up every moan and groan.

God won’t put up with rebels;

he’ll cull them from the pack.

Is anyone crying for help? God is listening,

ready to rescue you.

If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there;

if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.

Disciples so often get into trouble;

still, God is there every time.

He’s your bodyguard, shielding every bone;

not even a finger gets broken.

The wicked commit slow suicide;

they waste their lives hating the good.

God pays for each slave’s freedom;

no one who runs to him loses out.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 34 (The Message)