#looks like it's straight out of a supernatural horror film

[warningsine]

[mingsolo]

Say My Name

incubus!hongjoong x f!reader / genre: demon au, supernatural au, smut, romance  / warnings: alcohol intake, cursing, clingy woosan, manifestation of paranormal activities, f! masturbation, sex toys, an almost hook up, scaredy cat mingi, pet names (love), the word kill used in threatening context, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), oral f!receiving, , squirting, creampie / wc: 7k, r: 21+

done for my beloved @flurrys-creativity 666 milestone from two years ago! yep. another repost im too proud to let go. and idc this is a supernatural/halloween themed party, we celebrate summerween in this household from now on!

Another boring Halloween night indoors.

You wanted to do something fun, but most of your friends told you they were “too old to costume parties” and left you without plans for the night, so just like last year, you were bound to spend Halloween night laying on the couch watching another mainstream horror film that will be as bad as the previous one.

Doing just that, sipping straight from the wine bottle, because there was no one to impress after all, you emptied what was left of the liquid, hoping it made you drunk enough to lose the critical thinking from your brain and enjoy this plot-less movie. 

The doorbell rang, interrupting your mental count of how many cliche moments had been in the film already. You look at the hour surprised to check it was barely past nine. Dragging your feet to your door, you checked the peephole to find your friends San and Wooyoung standing next to each other, San kissing Wooyo’s cheek,  as clingy as ever.

“Hey hey, don’t be mushy in my house!” you shouted, opening the door, to which San abruptly let go of Wooyoung’s ass. “Let’s not eat in front of the poor?.”

“Someone is really sensitive tonight.” San said, letting himself in, followed by Wooyoung who smiley showed you the two bottles of wine and packs of beer they had brought with them. 

“Well I’m the most single person on earth, so I have the right to complain.” you sighed, dropping yourself on the couch same as you previously were. 

“Very dramatic.” San arched his eyebrows, sitting on the carpeted floor next to you, opening the bag he was carrying. 

“What are you doing here anyways, weren’t you going to a haunted house with those friends of your dance group?.” 

“We did,” Wooyoung responded, opening the wine bottles in the kitchen, searching for something through your cabinets as if it were his own home. “But Mingi fainted half way through and the paramedics needed someone to accompany him while he was still zoned out, his apartment is on the other side of the city so there was no point in going back.” 

“… And since we knew you were going to be here alone drowning in your own misery, we decided to come play with you with the little thing we bought at the gift shop.” San added, taking out a wooden board and placing it on your coffee table. “Tadda!.”

“A Ouija board?, really?.” You rolled your eyes at the thing. You have played with them in the past, a few times in fact, and nothing interesting ever has come out of it. 

“It’ll be more fun than sitting on your ass all night watching… that.” Wooyoung sat beside San, taking the remote and turning the TV off. 

You scoffed, accepting the glass of wine Wooyoung handed to you. Sitting cross-legged next to San, with Wooyoung in the center of the other side, you sipped half glass, and placed your hands on the planchet as they did. 

“Alexa, dim the lights to minimum.” Wooyoung shouted.

With the ambiance now up to Wooyoung’s Ouija board session standards, He closed his eyes and you and San did the same. The whole thing was silly, but it was better than what you were doing for sure. 

“I’m now speaking to whoever demon or spirit that roams close to us tonight!” Wooyoung shouted so abruptly after a minute of silence that both you and San got startled, popping both your eyes open. “We meant no harm! we only want to communicate with you.” 

San and you were containing the laughter, which Wooyoung noticed giving you both a sharp glare. You catched San looking at his boyfriend so earnestly that you felt your heart ache a little, they really were in love with each other. It made you happy and melancholic at the same time. How much you wished you too had someone. 

 “Please! Manifest to us, give us a sign that you can hear our calling.” Wooyoung continued, the tone of his voice becoming louder with each sentence. 

“Wooyo shut it, the neighbors will complain about…” 

Your words were interrupted by the piece you and your friends were holding slowly moving to the “H” marker. 

“gET oUT!” Wooyoung giggled excitedly. San let go of your hand to put a fist in over his lips, failing to repress a high pitched Oooooh. 

“H? So there is someone here with us,” Wooyoung closed his eyes without dropping a smile. “So tell us your name then, I’m Wooyoung, that’s San, and the sulky one is Y/n,” 

“Shut up!” you replied annoyed, letting go of both their hands, but they quickly grabbed them again, putting them back. Just as you were to keep complaining, you got interrupted again by the marker making your hands move to the “O” letter, then “N” next “G”, until it spelled a complete name- Hongjoong.

“Who the fuck is Hongjoong?.” 

“The demon, woman!” Wooyoung squeaked.

“Ok that’s enough you almost had me,” you let go of them and stand up, taking the glass of wine with you. 

“You are no fun.” San pouted, taking a sip himself. 

“Y/n comeback, you need to say goodbye to the demon or else it will stay here with you!.” Wooyoung whined again. 

“Well I’m kind of lonely, so welcome home, HOngJoOng!” you mocked, raising your glass to the air, finishing it in one shot. Both your friends interchanged worried but amused glares. They then took the marker again, saying their goodbyes to the supposed demon, and set the board aside.

The rest of the night went without any more talk about the Ouija board. You ordered pizza and watched random horror YouTube videos while finishing the booze your friends had brought. 

San and Wooyoung left your apartment around two in the morning. Despite having tried to tease you with the demon thing, you enjoyed having them over tonight and were grateful they decided to show up so you could have some fun on Halloween night. 

“You really spooked her with the demon thing,” San chuckled, while he and his boyfriend waited for their uber downstairs at your apartment building. 

“What do you mean?” Wooyoung asked, yawning widely.

“By moving the board to spell that name, where did you hear that anyway?” 

“That wasn’t you?.” Wooyoung suddenly got very awake. His posture getting painfully straight. 

“No.” 

Both looked straight into nothing, a sudden breeze running through their backs, cold and intrusive. 

“She didn’t say goodbye to it.” Wooyoung mumbled, as the uber arrived in front of them.

That night you went to sleep right after your friends left. Drowsy thanks to the alcohol, you started snorting as soon as your head hit the pillow. That’s how you didn’t notice the lights on the whole apartment flickering all night until you woke up later that morning. 

.

.

.

Over the next couple of weeks, something started to change in your apartment. 

Small stuff at first, like things you swear to have left in certain places, appearing on others. Then, things that disappeared completely. You started thinking the stress of working extra hours was messing with you, so you decided to complete your shifts normally and go to sleep at early hours trying to get more rest, but this didn’t end whatever weird thing was happening. 

On top of that, every time you went out with your friends, you were reminded how single you were and it was starting to be really annoying. Of course you were happy for them, but you would be lying if you didn’t wonder what was about you that was impossible for you to get with someone. Hell, even a one night stand was starting to sound good at this point. 

Sadly, your work was just entering its demanding season, with you having to stay late again and unable to go out as often, so even that wasn’t on the table right now.

Besides, the stuff going on in your apartment continued to worsen. The more you paid attention, the more weird things happened, and it was coming to the point where you couldn’t keep ignoring it. Every day, the presence of someone living with you was more tangible. It was as subtle as feeling a stare over you, while cooking, working or even taking a shower. Creepy shadows behind the curtains or sudden shivers on your spine, as if someone was standing behind you. 

It all started on Halloween night, you knew it had to do something with that stupid Ouija board but you weren’t going to admit it. Doing that was accepting it was real, and then who knew what this thing could do. 

A couple of months living like this, you started to feel more at ease, ignoring all signals, convinced that whoever was living with you, wouldn’t hurt you, or it would have done it already, besides that, the little time you spend in your apartment was sleeping, so what would the spirits or whatever was inside your home do?.

One particular evening, you got this urge to do a deep cleaning of your home, so you spent a big part of the night looking through stuff stacked in your closet. At the top of one shelf, you found a shoe box, with old cards and random objects, one of them being a rubber item with the shape of a teardrop, your forgotten vibrator. Your eyes pop open when you instantly remember having bought the thing last year, pressured by your friend Yeri, who told you “every girl needed one” as if it was a lip tint or favorite perfume. 

You took the vibrator to the bathroom, and cleaned it neatly with some body wash. After drying it completely, you took the charger and connected it, pressing your lips together when the white light showed on, telling you it worked. 

You didn’t remember why you stopped using it, or when was the last time you did, but right now you were happy to have found it. 

After finishing with the usual night routine, you were ready for bed. Throwing an old shirt over your head you were about to put on your worn out pajamas, when your eyes landed on the toy laying on your nightstand. 

“Well fuck it.” you said to yourself, throwing the pajamas away and taking in your hands. You lay onto the bed, pressing the + button to which the thing began to vibrate with slow repetitions. You pressed the same button again and it started vibrating continuously, now faster. Quickly you removed your underwear, closing your eyes, pressing the vibrator on the spot between your legs. It was cold and the vibrations made you gasp a little, sending a twirl of sensations right after it touched your skin. 

Slowly you began pressing it harder, building up the sensation, making your legs relax, opening more and more to give access to your entrance, until it was placed right on the spot where it could begin sinking inside you. 

Lost in the pleasure, you began moving the thing automatically in circles, up and down until it was half way inside you, making your legs shake and the knot in your stomach build up quickly. Either the toy was surprisingly efficient, or it had been so long since you experienced an orgasm that in mere minutes you were too worked up and ready to let go. 

Moaning softly, the same time you were riding your release, you clearly felt the sensation of something making pressure on the bed at your feet, as if someone was sitting on it. You got startled at how clearly it felt, all while your orgasm continued to hit you until the sensation started to wash away. You opened your eyes, noticing the lights in the room quickly flickering, stopping immediately as your vision cleared. 

Ignoring the lights issue for your well being, you placed the vibrator on top of your nightstand, too worn out over your first orgasm in weeks. Having no energy left you barely threw a blanket over you, completely relaxed. 

The next morning you woke up refreshed, a sensation that didn’t last long as soon as you looked at the clock. 

“Oh fuck!.” 

It was way past nine, and you were already late for work. You rubbed your eyes to get rid of the motion to close them again, noticing your blanket wasn’t over you. You were half naked and uncovered, and it made you shiver. The wind from outside makes your curtains move, letting you know your window was open when you were sure you left it closed, same as you knew you were wearing underwear before falling asleep. 

Whatever the case, you didn’t have the time to contemplate that right now. You clumsily got up and ran to the bathroom, got into the shower, throwing whatever clothes you saw first and leaving for work before your boss decided to send you back and take out a considerable amount from your weekly paycheck.

After that the day continued to be awful. Your boss had waited for you to scold you for coming in late, the clients you saw that afternoon were a pain in the ass and you had to skip lunch in order to finish something someone else didn’t do on time. 

Besides, there was something on the back of your mind. You remembered the sensation of someone sitting at the foot of your bed, the lights acting weird, the missing underwear, the window… It was starting to feel kind of dangerous. But even by having all those things on your head, plus the work stuff, the only thing that could possibly help you relax was to go home to your toy, as desperate  as it sounded.

That evening, you felt something was particularly off the moment you stepped foot into the apartment. The presence in your home felt heavy and oppressive. It felt as if whatever it was, was right there waiting for you, you just couldn’t see it. It wanted attention, and you weren’t going to give in.

Acknowledging it was accepting it was real. And you weren’t ready for that. 

A few weeks into the paranormal stuff going on in your apartment, you could almost say it was becoming the new normal. The thing in your house wanted your attention, but so far it hasn’t done anything to directly hurt you. It was as if it was presenting you an endurance test, and you were decided to  win. 

A particular thing you noticed was that on the nights you decided to play with yourself, it seemed to trigger this thing even more.

The windows slammed louder and repeatedly, the tv turned on and off nonstop, your bedroom stuff fell off their places. All while you could clearly feel someone hovering over you, breathing beside you. At one point you even felt fingers caressing your skin as you did, and you swore you must check yourself into a mental facility but the sensation of being watched gave you a push, something new you didn’t know you enjoyed so much. 

It was crazy, but it felt so good. 

This is how it went for another month, until one night a few days before new years eve. 

.

.

.

It was a Friday when you and your friends met up at a new club close downtown. 

San and Wooyoung picked you up, and together you entered the club waiting to meet with another couple of friends from their dance group. Yeri and her girlfriend were already inside, waiting for you.

The night was going on great, you spent the time since arriving dancing with San and Yeri, drinking and having a good time, so good that you even forgot about the crazy stuff happening at your house. One moment as you asked for a martini at the counter, Wooyoung reached out to you with a devilish smirk on his lips, and you knew it was trouble. 

“I can tell you are scheming something.” you said glaring at him, waiting for your drink. 

“I have someone who wants to meet you.” He said with a teasing tone. 

“Who?.” 

“My friend Mingi, he’s been wanting to talk to you but you just haven’t stopped dancing with Yeri since he got here.” 

“Mingi?, isn’t that the dude that fainted at the haunted house?.” 

Wooyoung arched his eyebrows, his smirk so big that you felt like slapping him out of his face.

“Wooyo, he sounds like a wi…” You swallowed your words as a shadow approached you both, showing a guy half chest and head taller than Wooyoung, coming out from behind him. 

To say he was handsome was an understatement, cause was gorgeous. Sharp eyes and nose, beautiful plump lips. His hair was styled up, dark with shades of blue on the sides, shining from the lights on the ceiling. 

“Hello,” He spoke with the deepest voice that you’ve heard, so clear despite the loud noise of the music and people around you. 

“Y/n, this is Mingi,” Wooyoung said with an irritating tone, “You were saying he sounds like a whi-” 

“Nice to meet you,” you waved at him, pushing Wooyoung back softly. He let out his particular loud witchy laugh but took the hint and walked out back to the rest of your friends.

Mingi nodded, smiling as he looked at you straight into the eyes. 

This Mingi you were talking to didn’t seem like the type to faint in haunted houses. 

As you two chatted, he was confident, cool and very interesting. You spoke and danced with him for a good amount of time, admiring how much of a natural he was. You were so at ease that you completely ignored your friends, knowing they were happy to see you getting along with someone. 

“We will be opening a show later this month,” Mingi spoke softly, practically whispering in your ear, as you danced with him so close you could feel the friction of his muscles over your chest, his hand resting firmly on your waist. “Would you like to come up backstage and cheer us on?, And maybe go out with me after?.” 

You smiled like a dumb high school girl nodding your head yes, but you didn’t care. Mingi smiled too, hiding his flustered cheeks looking up at the ceiling.

 God not only he was hot but so freaking cute.

When the song was about to end you asked Mingi to take a break to get more drinks. Mingi ordered a beer and a cocktail for you. Drinks in hand, you bit your lip, watching him lick his, savoring the rest of the beer on them. You knew what you were about to ask was maybe too rushed, but fuck he looked incredible hot and you were already tipsy from the alcohol. Inviting him over to your apartment was too tempting to let it go. And by the way he was eyeing you from head to toe all night, you knew he also wanted it. 

Just as you were about to say the words, Mingi shuts you up by pressing his lips into yours, softly at first, the kiss slowly becoming more hungry. 

Your hands went to his chest, roaming through his muscles until you reached the back of his head. Mingi let go a soft spoken growl, that with his deep tone sounded even more hot. You stood up from the stool, placing yourself between his legs and continued kissing him, his lips were so soft that you wanted that kiss to last forever until there was no more left of them. 

You bit his bottom lip and you could feel his bulge hardening by having him so close. It was now or never.

“Want to get out of here?.” 

Mingi smiled against your mouth, taking your lips just as you did before and grabbing you by the waist so he could stand up, leading you by the hand between the people dancing and shouting on the dance floor. 

Before leaving you sent a text to Yeri, to inform your friends you were leaving with Mingi, to which she responded with a smirk, eggplant and teardrop emojis, making  you laugh out loud. 

Mingi asked for your address and called an Uber, you two kissing softly outside the club the entire time until the car arrived. 

The ride home was too long in your opinion, not wanting to waste more time. Your mind wonders the things Mingi would do to you, having seen how good he moved on the dance floor, you could only imagine how he would move in your bed.

Just as you arrived at the front door, Mingi hugged you from behind, his large hands roaming through your hips and ass, pressing gently but firmly. You giggled and wished he wasn’t so playful right now because it was taking too long for you to get the right key. 

When you finally entered your apartment, he slightly pushed you against the wall, making you feel his length on your stomach, while his tongue explored all of your mouth. 

“You look too good.” He breathed on your neck and you could feel the warmth in your lower abdomen, the space between your legs aching for some touch. Mingi seemed to read your mind by the way one of his hands went to touch your sensitive spot, fingers toying with the fabric of your underwear, teasing your entrance.“Want me to keep talking?.”

You were already so wet for him and you smiled proudly seeing how his eyes dropped lazily, anticipation shining on them. He kissed you one more time, sliding his fingers beneath your cloth, when suddenly you felt it…

The presence, it was there. 

The vibe in the apartment shuffled instantly. Mingi didn’t seem to notice but you did, and you gasped out loud when something grabbed Mingi’s hand between your legs away, making him break the kiss, and look at you in confusion.

“Are you ok? You want to stop?.” 

You wanted to say no, that you didn’t throw his hand away, but you didn’t have the time to.

The sudden stomp of your front door slamming open by itself made Mingi jump pack, and you pressed yourself against the wall. Then your kitchen cabinets opened and closed repeatedly, the contents inside of them popping out falling into the floors making a mess. 

“What the fuck?!” Mingi screamed, pressing himself against the wall too. The look on his face was of someone so terrified that he will probably have a hard time adjusting to normal life again. 

“Mingi…” you tried to calm him down but it was no use.

He fainted halfway at the Haunted House. You remembered. You suddenly got scared what would happen if he died right here in your apartment. 

Your windows then open at unison, making your curtains fly high into the ceiling, the cold air from outside making your magazines and lightweight items fly around as if a little tornado had born inside your home.

“Nah fuck this…” Mingi said to you barely audible, hands over his chest. You tried to get close to him but he walked back, scared of you. “Fuck this!!.” He repeated, his glare changed into that one of a scared puppy. Then he sprinted through the already opened door, which slammed shut behind him.

The flying objects, slamming doors and cabinets and all the shit happening around you stopped as soon as Mingi walked away. You stood still for a few seconds, gathering your thoughts and trying to collect yourself, but you realized you have gone past beyond that.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?.”

You shouted at the air, the anger built up from months ready to explode from your body. 

“I know you are listening! what the fuck was that?!”

You waited for a response, a cracking door, a flickering light, but nothing. 

“So now you don’t want to do anything huh?!,” you walked in circles in your living room, trying to provoke whatever this thing was. You knew it was there, invisible as always, watching you, mocking you. “So now what?, you screw my fuck over? And then you go silent?!”

Still nothing. 

“I’ve had enough, Fuck you!” you whined, the anger now becoming frustration. “And who’s going to clean this mess up, motherfucker?” you were crying shamelessly,  kicking the first thing your foot could reach, hurting your foot a little in the motion. A brown wooden box slid off, landing in front of your coffee table. “This is ?...”

Walking over to it, you crouched and opened the Ouija board your friends had left in your apartment since that Halloween night. You walked towards it as if it was going to explode at any second, bending over to reach it, carefully placing both hands on the marker. As soon as your fingers touched the piece, it violently began moving - first to the letter “H”, then the “O”,  next an “N”… until you said what it spelled. “Hongjoong.” 

Just as you finished saying his name you felt a violent gust of cold air behind you, and a soft spoken voice dragging his words,  whispering right over your ear. 

“Fucking finally.” 

You have thought countless times what would you do if you had whatever that was hunting you in the flesh, so to speak. You had imagined yourself screaming, running away _ the poor Mingi, you didn’t blame him for doing so. But right now, what you had in front of you wasn’t anything you would have expected.

The figure of a man crouching beside you, his face was what you saw first.  You froze, admiring his features, and god he was magnificent. 

Pointy nose, seemingly carved to perfection. Large almond eyes, shaped like that of a red fox, that were now eyeing your own face, almost earnestly. Pouty lips, pink in shade and soft looking. Ashy blonde hair falling into most of his forehead. His face alone was stunning and he seemed to notice your staring. 

“I could look at you all night too, but I have better plans, my dear Y/n.”

He helped you stand up,  grabbing your chin between his long fingers as he did. His outfit was weird, and it seemed heavy but it accentuated his slim but toned figure. 

“You were the thing making all these weird things all this time?.” You asked, your tone way calmer and softer than the shouting and cursing you were doing moments before. 

He chuckled dryly, leaving your face and walking away, watching the mess in your living room visibly amused. “Do I look like a thing?,” he said, picking up the Ouija board from the floor, chuckling and throwing it over the couch. 

“No- I mean…” 

“I had to mess up your stuff, and even that way it took so long to say my name for the third time,” He walked over to you again, and you instinctively walked back. “I’ve thrown this thing many times at you and you always ignored it.”  He eyed the Ouija board again. “Hope you have learned not to bring anyone over ever again, sorry your friend shit his pants.” Hongjoong chuckled with malice, but you were unable to move or say something back. “You do it next time and I won’t be so gentle.” 

“Gentle? You destroyed my apartment.” You replied bitterly, to which Hongjoong glared at you. You took a step back and he smiled again. 

“Gentle meaning I won’t kill whoever you bring out next time.” He teased, and you felt a shiver down your spine. “Relax, I would have hurt you if I wanted  to already.”

That was true.

“What do you want then?.”

Hongjoong smirked, finally the conversation was heading his way. 

“You know what I want,” he came closer to you, his hand grabbing the hem of your dress, playing with it. “You know I like to watch you…” Immediately your mind went back to the nights when you pleased yourself, now having clear that it was him every time, leaning beside you, guiding you with his presence. 

The thought made you feel incredibly aroused, you shook your head in denial. It was insane. Whoever he was, he didn’t belong to this world, yet he was right here in front of you. He looked and felt so real, and it was overwhelming. 

Hongjoong got even closer, cupping your head with his fingers, black chrome shades painted on them. His touch was burning, it felt dark and forbidden, as if you needed to get out of his presence as soon as possible, or you would be sucked into something you wouldn’t be able to go back from. 

“What’s wrong, love?,” He leaned to brush his lips into yours holding you by your waist with his free hand. “Don’t you want to play with me? We have waited for so long.”

Your eye level was almost the same as him, which let you look at him in the eyes as he brushed and softly licked your bottom lip with his tongue. Your lower abdomen was on fire, and by the way he made pressure with his fingers on your skin, you knew he could feel how worked up you were. 

This felt wrong, off limits. But his aura was overpowering, and you needed this, he was right about that, you have waited maybe too fucking long.

“What happens after?,” you mumbled, closing your eyes as Hongjoong pressed gentle pecks on your neck, now both his hands sliding under your dress, making pressure between your thighs. 

“After what?,” He continued kissing your neck and making his way between your legs, with force he lifted your leg up, so he could easily caress your entrance. You were damped already, Hongjoong scoffed at the feeling of your ruined underwear. 

“After we-.”

“Why so prude?” He faced you again, brushing your pussy with his long fingers, so much bigger than your little damped spot. “After we fuck all night until you never think of someone else but me, ever again?.” He then slid his finger under the cloth and pushed his finger inside you, making you moan softly. Hongjoong didn’t wait for a response, instead pushed another two fingers inside, lifting you up first until you were sitting on your now empty desk. He curled his fingers, causing you to clench around them, which made him groan. His voice was so gentle and soft, and yet you could sense he might have sounded like it, but he wasn’t going to be. 

Your whimpers and moans had him biting his lip, chasing your release knowing you wouldn’t resist much longer like this. Your arms were hung over his shoulders, eyes shut, your legs numb, lost in the sensation of his fingers playing with the softness of your clit. 

“Oh, please…” you whined, pushing yourself deeper into his fingers, making Hongjoong groan in desperation. 

“Fucking tease.” He growled, looking down exactly where his hand was connected with your entrance. “If this is how you feel around my fingers, I can’t wait to be inside you.” 

His words made electricity run through your whole body. Is this some kind of magic, hex or something unnatural? How he has you like this by his fingers only. Whatever the case it was too much when he crocked his fingers hitting your sweet spot, making you jolt and moan with your face buried on his neck. 

Hongjoong could feel your release dampening his fingers, and somehow knowing what you liked, he caressed the outside of your entrance so gently that the tingling sensation made your legs give up and you collapsed over him. 

He carried you wrapping your legs around him, you tightly hugging him, too worn out to move. 

“And that’s one.” 

The short trip to your bed was enough for you to recover your breath, shaking as you hear what he said. 

Hongjoong placed you at the center of the bed, letting you rest a little more, as he took out his flashy jacket, and began unbuttoning his black silk blouse. He stopped at the third button, showing you just a glimpse of his chest, soft and firm skin teasing you. He then unzipped his belt, giving you a show, how fucking delightful. You just came, but the knot on your lower stomach was building up again. 

“I’ve seen that expression so many times,” His tone lowered this time, almost in a whisper. “Can’t believe I had to go through the pain of watching you do that to yourself, when I could have been fucking you every night just like I would do now.” 

You were ashamed of how much his words affected you, your entrance dripping wet by the way he looked at you, how his words enveloped you. “Please…” you find yourself about to beg him to touch you, you desperately want him to be deep inside you, like you never wanted anyone before. 

“Shhh.” Hongjoong lowered himself on the bed, placing himself between your legs, opening them slowly as he kissed your knees and legs with soft brushes of his lips. “For now I only want to hear your moans and whimpers, I want to hear the sound of my name while you scream it.” 

You pressed your lips together, letting out a soft Hum that made Hongjoong chuckle. 

“You better say it countless times, you have to make up for me, for all these months you refused to say it.” He then grabbed your underwear and ripped it off, throwing it to the side. He took a good look at you from behind your legs, sliding your dress up until you were exposed from your abdomen down. 

You saw his eyes, glowing with a crimson tone in the darkness of the room and his black eye shadow. They shone brightly the more he stared at you until they disappeared as Hongjoong buried his face between your legs. 

Hongjoong had wished for this moment for so long. Watching you had been both a torment and a blessing all these months. 

It’s been so long since he had been summoned in the flesh, and the first time someone made him feel the need to really feel someone else’s skin, a vulnerable and delicate skin.  You as a mortal were invaluable to him, because you wouldn’t just disappear and be a stranger to him as all of the demons, ghouls and entities he was accustomed to surrendered himself with, all of which had no substance or meaning, but again what did on his seemingly endless and pointless life anyway?. At least here he could watch over you, protect you.

He had realized how much of a domestic life he wanted. His past human self is still attached to this world, now finding comfort in you, his precious master. 

But of course he wasn’t going to tell you that just yet, first he had to make you feel good, knowing perfectly how much you needed it. 

You softly gasped when his lips brushed your entrance, he took his sweet time flickering over your pussy lips, savoring them. He licked your dripping slit with one long strip, making you clench and arch your back at the sensation. 

Still sensitive from your previous high, you couldn’t hold back, unwinding slowly letting go of any inhibitions. Hongjoong smirked with his head buried in between your legs, proud of how you were losing control. 

He was licking at a faster pace, up and down and then wiggling his tongue making you whimper loudly. Impulsively your hands went to his hair, making a mess out of it. You pushed your hips against his mouth, urging him to keep going, and he groaned against your pussy sending vibrations to your whole body. Hongjoong could feel his hardened length throbbing at how good you were taking his tongue. He needs to be inside you or he will come just by looking at you getting high on his mouth only. 

“Hongjoong, please…” You threw your head back, your hips moving letting him burying his tongue deeper inside you, where he had no problem reaching your sensitive spot. 

“Come for me again,” He whispered, going back to suck in your pussy right after. 

Your whines and moans had gotten him so hard, his dick leaking already, desperate to be out of the restraint of his pants.  Without letting your pussy alone, he skilfully removed his belt, dragging his pants down a little so his length could break free. 

“Love, I want to taste it.” 

He licked you from top to bottom before sucking in your little nest of nerves once more, to which you couldn’t resist longer. The explosion in your lower abdomen crushed you over. It was a hundred times more intense than the previous one, and you felt an unfamiliar sensation you never experienced before. Shocked, you saw your juices leak from you with a little splash, Hongjoong expertly making filthy noises as he sucked in the sweet release until there was none of it.

“Oh God… I-” you excused yourself, kind of embarrassed of what just happened. 

Hongjoong licked his lips, and your pussy throbbed from the sight of him smiling devilish as he brushed his thumb over his lower lip.

“Bet your damned toy couldn’t do that huh?.” 

He stood up finally removing his blouse, letting you admire his slim but toned figure. Then he pushed the rest of his pants down, his length in full display so hard and erect that it wobbled, and you could feel your pussy dripping once more. You couldn’t believe you weren’t drained out already. 

“Take the dress off.” 

You obeyed, sitting on the bed and unzipping the back of your dress, throwing it over your shoulders until it was completely off. Hongjoong let out a moan at the sight of your breast bouncing as you took the dress off, a sight he wouldn’t be tired of anytime soon. He then took his length on his hand, stroking it gently the same time he eyed your breast attentively. You adjusted yourself on the bed purposely making them bounce, to which Hongjoong let out a giggle full of devilish intent. 

“Such a tease.” 

You took a deep breath, watching him hovering over you until his face was in front of yours. He kissed you gently and slowly, both of you unable to keep your eyes open. He pressed himself beneath you until you were laying down in the bed again, making you feel his hardened length over your stomach. Your hands trailed the firmness of his chest, the warmth of his skin feeling so good against your palms. You then caressed his back, kissing him deeply as you never kissed anyone else before. 

As you were lost in the pleasure of the kiss, Hongjoong took the chance to spread your legs apart with his knee, shifting from his position so he could align himself with your entrance. 

He breaks the kiss apart, taking in a deep breath. You both opened your eyes as he slowly pushed himself inside you, so slowly it was almost as if he was punishing you. When he was finally inside you, he stood still looking at your face, your eyes dropping lazily unable to keep them open. 

Him stretching you out was the most exquisite sensation you have experienced probably ever, it felt so intimate and personal, as if your body had been waiting for him to fill you up like this. 

When he was sure you had adjusted to him, he began moving, slowly at first, trying not to hurt you, but soon his pace intensified and he was going in and out with force. 

Your vision was blurry, head spinning as Hongjoong slammed inside you repeatedly, leaving hickies in your neck, kissing your breasts and caressing the back of your thighs as he fucked you desperately.

Looking for something to hold onto you grabbed the bed sheets with your fist tightly, Hongjoong burying himself deeper and deeper inside you with rhythmic movements. You were becoming louder by the second and it was making him crazy. He harshly took your hand from your mouth when you tried to repress your moaning. 

“Don’t, I need to hear you.”

His choice of words really resonated with you. He wasn’t just fucking you just because he could, he was fucking you so good cause he wanted to, he needed to. Even if his presence was dominating, you could feel he wanted to do this, maybe since the first night he was summoned. 

He leaned again to kiss you on the mouth, stroking his tongue against your lips as his dick slammed into you with the same motion. You took him in your lips, licking and sucking on his mouth as well, everything building up the sweet sensation right there where your bodies were connected. 

Hongjoong continued fucking you so hard that you had trouble keeping up with the kiss. The sound of your bodies slamming against each other was obscene and so beautiful to hear, it invaded the entire house, allowing no other sound to come in. Each of his strokes sends electric waves through both your bodies. Your breast pressed against his chest, which now Hongjoong caressed with his palm, in circle motions over your hardened nip. 

“Fuck, Hongjoong,” you moaned, arching your hips for him to bury himself deeper. “Faster” you begged, looking at him with hungry eyes. Hongjoong smirked at your requests, happy to oblige. 

He pushed himself in, adjusting the angle by grabbing one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder. You whined, cursing under your breath with your head thrown back. The movements plus Hongjoong breathy moans driving you insane. 

“Yeah, right there.” you threw your other leg over his shoulder, making Hongjoong groan loudly. “Deeper Hongjoong, fuck me deeper.�� Hongjoong knew he would be done if you continued to be so vocal about what he was doing to you, but he couldn’t stop. Every word and sound coming out you was delicious, making him realize he could be fucking you so good like this every night for the rest of your life together. 

You whined when he pulled out almost entirely, but when he slammed himself all in one motion again, you couldn’t resist any longer. 

“I’m so close…”

“I know.” He responded, pulling out again, and pressing all his length softly, stroking your clit with his hand at the same time he pushed in and out. “I want you to make a mess again, would you?.”

You let out a few breathy Yes, rolling your hips close to him, like wanting his dick to reach even deeper, until you could feel it almost touched your heart. Your hand reached his back, when he bent over too close to your face, firmly holding your legs still hanging to the sides of his shoulders. He looked down again at how he slipped inside and out of you and he let out a guttural sound, biting his lip almost hurting himself. 

You took his head and made him look at you, letting him know you were about to come. He moaned when he felt your walls tightening around him, and a warmth drizzling sensation covered him up. You closed your eyes and let go of him, moaning loudly riding your release. 

Hongjoong continued to thrust inside you,  massaging your clit in circles wanting you to come again, the over stimulation so much that you cried out  his name, grabbing the sheets again looking for something to hold onto. Hongjoong couldn’t hold any longer and spilled all inside you, still pushing inside wanting you to come once more. When he pulled out, looking at his dripping cum spill out of you, at the same time he watched you squirt again, it was a view he would never get tired of, and will probably have on repeat in his mind on the times he can’t have you like this. 

 When you finally took a deep breath, waves of pleasure still tingled inside you.  You opened your eyes, finding Hongjoong looking at you, one hand stroking your jaw gently.  

The windows opened again, this time without any loud bang, letting in a cold breeze than in any other circumstance would have been too cold for you, but right now it felt so good how the air cooled your burning bodies. The light from the night sky illuminates the afterglow of what just happened. 

“Right. I almost forgot you are a… demon?.” you smiled. Hongjoong chuckled, still admiring your face, caressing your waist with his fingers. 

“It’s funny. I can make a mess out of things, but I don’t have the power to clean the mess out.” You arch your eyebrows. It was very convenient and didn’t make any sense, but the thought of cleaning was the least thing you cared about right now anyways.

After a moment of silence, as you rest against each other you finally ask. “What happens after?.”

Hongjoong was taken aback from your sudden question. Now that it had already happened, he had to give you a real answer. He got tense for a second, but his face softened immediately after. 

“I’m yours to take.” He whispered over your lips, brushing his bottom lip against yours. 

“Mine?.” 

“Yours.” You caressed his face, his body comfortably on top of you, skin still burned against yours, but you felt no discomfort. You then kissed him, softly but deeply. 

Hongjoong felt a spiraling sensation over his chest, a feeling he thought he had lost so long ago. With his energy building up inside him, it started causing the lights to go out, so intense that it reached not only your apartment but the whole building. The fainted sound of cars and the city at night echoed through the room.

Still kissing, your naked bodies glowing against the night light coming from the opened windows was the only thing that could be seen against the total darkness.

@mingsolo do not repost/translate to other sites

[mikavlcs]

Rebels and Renegades

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: Becoming best friends with a sentient hand brings many much-needed changes to your life, the biggest being the very girl he arrived at Nevermore with.

Warnings: this is so stupid, reader is incredibly unserious, many attempts at comedy, TERRIBLE pacing, bad writing, cursing, this doesn’t correlate properly with the timeline of the show but idc

Word count: 6.6k (sorry, this got very out of hand...get it?)

Notes: this is trash but it’s fun so who cares. this is entirely for @clexa-is-forever aka thing’s biggest fan. despite my writer’s block, i still had fun writing this. hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

If someone told you at the beginning of the school year that your best friend would be a sentient disembodied limb, you would’ve laughed in their face.

Not because you thought it would be too ridiculous or nonsensical, but because in your mind, it was far too interesting for what Nevermore Academy had to offer.

See, you were initially excited to transfer to Nevermore. To get away from the shallow depths of normie public school and be around people like you. But alas, it was too good to be true—or, maybe, you had gotten your hopes up too high.

Because it turned out that fantastical mythical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and sirens actually weren’t too dissimilar from their normie counterparts. They didn’t care about excitement or adventure or fun, they cared about partying and drinking and dating.

This duality created an atmosphere of contradictions. There were people with literal snakes for hair but also those stupid cliques of popular kids that liked to pick on people for no reason. Werewolves transformed into energetic beasts and prowled the woods together every full moon, but students’ biggest concerns were whom they were gonna ask to the school dance.

It was all strange and supernatural yet shockingly normal. And extraordinarily boring.

The disappointment you felt upon this discovery was immeasurable. It appeared that no matter how far you ran, you could never escape the clutches of adolescent desires and drama.

But there was nowhere else for you to go. This was it, your parents told you that definitively. So you resigned yourself to your fate and settled into life at Nevermore.

Months passed at a snail’s pace. Around the middle of the semester, a new student transferred in. Because nothing of substance happens, she was the talk of the town for a solid two weeks before her scheduled arrival, but you didn’t care.

You would admit that after finally seeing her, your interest was piqued. She certainly fit the murderer vibe. With her pallid complexation and dark eyes, she looked straight out of a black & white horror film, even complete with a black uniform instead of the standard purple (which you were so jealous of).

Temptation pulled at your chest whenever you saw her, but you decided to leave her alone. This school had disappointed you enough, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle even more. The decision to keep your distance was made and instead, you let your imagination run wild without the probable barriers of reality to inhibit it. 

Little did you know that only one day after the new girl transferred in, she inadvertently changed the course of your life at Nevermore forever. 

Advanced Gorgon Sciences, your last class of the day, had just ended and you were wandering campus wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You were contemplating going into Jericho when something smacked your cheek.

Pausing, you glanced down and found the offending object to be a small pebble. You followed its rough trajectory up to a ledge on your left and saw something scurrying across it. Against, your nonexistent better judgment, you moved closer and…

You blinked once, then twice, narrowed your eyes.

It was a hand—literally just a hand, cut off at the wrist but still scuttling and scurrying around with no problem.

So, you were definitely losing your mind. Honestly, it was about damn time.

Having nothing better to do, you decided to lean into the madness and approach the hand. At the sound of your footsteps, it turned and…looked at you? You weren’t sure, but it acknowledged your presence with a friendly wave.

You waved back, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the ledge.

Once you were up, you saw that the hand was fiddling with a makeshift slingshot, struggling to simultaneously keep it upright while loading and aiming it. His plight was fairly obvious and considering his circumstance, you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Abandoning the slingshot, the hand crawled over to you and started tapping insistently. It took much more brain power than it ought to for you to realize that he was trying to speak to you.

“Sorry, I don’t understand…that,” you apologized with a grimace. But an idea came to mind a moment later. “Can you write?”

The hand gave you a thumbs up. You dug around your backpack and pulled out a notebook along with a pen, flipping it open to an empty page and slid it over, setting the pen down on top. He picked up the pen and got to work, pushing the notebook back toward you a minute later.

Curious, you looked at the messy scrawl below.

Sorry, was aiming for the guy behind you.

You nodded understandingly. “It’s fine. Could I ask why you’re launching pebbles at students?”

You waited once more as he scribbled his answer and peered down when he pushed the paper over.

For fun.

Again, you nodded. You could respect that.

“Well, do you mind if I join you?” you asked, nodding toward the slingshot. “I’d imagine it would be a lot easier to aim with an extra pair of hands. And the accompanying body,” you added awkwardly at the end, hoping it wouldn’t offend the little guy.

Thankfully it didn’t. He gave you an excited thumbs up, scuttling back over to the slingshot while you scooted over. While he loaded another pebble into the pouch, you scanned the area below for your next victim.

Your eye snagged on a vampire for no real reason other than the fact that he just kinda looked like an asshole.

You pointed to him below. “How about him?”

Thing gave you another thumbs up. Nodding, you held the slingshot in place while Thing drew the pebble back and let it fly.

The shriek that came from your victim almost made you blow your cover. You grabbed Thing and hurriedly crawled back to where you were both out of sight, barely containing your giggles. Once the coast was clear, you cracked, pitching forward with your laughter as Thing drummed his fingers against your arm in what you assumed was amusement.

“That was amazing!” You looked down at him, smirked. “Wanna do another one?”

He tapped your hand enthusiastically, making your smile widen.

Thus was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Well, amazing for you and Thing—not for the rest of Nevermore.

The two of you were a match made in hell. Together you brainstormed a plethora of good pranks to pull on unsuspecting students and teachers.

Putting spiders (fake or otherwise) in students’ lockers. Setting glitter traps on top of classroom doors so whichever unlucky soul walks through first gets showered in glitter. Slipping mentos into people’s sodas. Setting trip wires to watch people faceplant around campus and many more.

It was glorious. Your own personal reign of terror, even.

Principal Weems had her suspicions, but no matter how many times she tried to catch you in the act, you slipped through her fingers. And without proof, her hands were tied. So you and your companion were free to keep enjoying your schemes so long as you were discreet.

For the first time since you enrolled, days passed by in what felt like minutes, the personification of the saying time flies when you’re having fun.

Through it all, you often wondered where the little guy was when he wasn’t with you. You hoped that he wasn’t causing too much mischief without you. He was your partner in crime, after all.

Two weeks in, you decided to ask him at breakfast.

The two of you were at your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. You were ranting about an upcoming Lycanthrope History test while Thing was launching the grapes you gave him to play with at nearby tables. After your rant, you finally gave in to your curiosity.

“So, what exactly are you doing at Nevermore? I know this place houses some strange students but, something tells me you’re not here to learn.”

He flicked a grape with precise aim, nailing a gorgon right on the forehead before giving you a series of taps. Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Babysitting? Babysitting who?”

Nothing could have prepared you for his answer.

“Wednesday Addams?!”

Your voice came out much louder than intended, turning a few heads around the cafeteria and making Thing jump. You didn’t care, plowing forward in your questioning.

“You’re ‘babysitting’ the school’s homicidal maniac?”

His stance straightened, his nonverbal tone somehow indignant as he corrected you.

You gave him a pointed look. “Attempted homicide isn’t much better, buddy.”

He seemed to contemplate flicking another grape, but seeing Miss Thornhill looking around, he chose not to. Instead, he drummed his fingers inquisitively at you, teasingly waggling his fingers at the end. You gave him another sharp look, insulted by his implication.

“Scared? What, no! This is amazing news,” you exclaimed. Then, an idea arose. “Hey, do you think she’d let us borrow any of her stuff for pranks?”

Thing mournfully shook his wrist. You let out a deep sigh, slumping over again. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve expected that answer.”

Wednesday didn’t really come up in conversation after that. You asked a few more times about her willingness to let you borrow her things, but after receiving the same answer, you gave up. Your paths had yet to cross, and you assumed that it would stay that way. But the universe seemed to have other plans.

The first time you formally met her was about a month after she transferred.

It was an appropriately cloudy day and you and Thing had just successfully completed a heist. You were in the Weathervane, both gushing over the fact that you had managed to steal fifteen scented lotions from Jericho’s local Bed, Bath & Body Works when a sharp voice interrupted you.

“So this is who you’ve been running off with these past few weeks.”

Both you and Thing flinched, looking up to see the Wednesday Addams staring down at you and your partner.

Offering a wave, you said, “Hey, Wednesday. Want a scented lotion?”

She ignored you completely. Her eyes barely scanned your figure before she was turning her full attention to Thing, her arms crossing over her chest in vindication.

“I knew you had to have an accomplice. You’re nowhere near nimble enough to properly set a trip wire by yourself.”

Thing slumped, obviously disheartened by the statement, but before you could defend his honor, your mind caught on something else.

“Wait…” You looked over at Thing, offended. “Have you been taking full credit for our pranks this entire time?”

Sheepish, Thing bowed, giving your hand an apologetic pat. You moved it away, crossing your own arms over your chest.

“Since this is your first offense, I’ll forgive you. But do it again and I’m keeping all of the profits from our future heists, got it?”

Thing jumped in alarm, tapping urgently. You smiled. “Good.”

Wednesday looked between you both, clearly unimpressed. You decided to take your shot again.

“You know, the lotion offer still stands.” You rifled through the lotions, taking note of their scents, and glanced back up with an apologetic look. “Though, we don’t have one that smells like stage 4 human decomposition, sorry.”

Again, she just stared blankly. You swore you saw her eye twitch but still, she said nothing and glared at Thing.

“Be back at the dorm by 7.”

With that, she turned and marched out of the café, leaving everyone in her path to fearfully stumble out of her way. Both of you watched, rapt, as she slammed the café door open and nearly nailed an approaching customer in the face.

Once she was out of sight, you turned to Thing. “Y’know, I think that went well, buddy.”

Thing said nothing.

You thought that would be the end of it, and honestly, you would’ve been fine if it had been. You made a good first impression and she now knew you existed. A double win!

But again, it seemed that someone had other plans—though this time it wasn’t the universe, but Thing.

Now that you and Wednesday had been semi-acquainted, Thing began inviting you to their dorm for hangouts frequently (because it was “his dorm too” …you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise). This set a few things in motion.

First, you met Wednesday’s roommate, Enid.

Enid was nice. A little hyper, like she was on a permanent sugar rush, but sweet, nonetheless. She gave you free manicures and skincare advice, and even let you borrow some things for pranks, so you hadn’t a single bad thing to say about her.

Second, you found out that you were very bad at scaling buildings.

Due to both curfew and Wednesday’s usual disapproval of your presence, Thing insisted on smuggling you in. By throwing a rope down to your balcony for you to climb. And…let’s just say that it’s a miracle you even survived the first time.

And finally, most importantly, you and Wednesday began to grow closer.

Only by about a centimeter, but progress was progress. And through sheer willpower and repeated exposure, you wormed your way into the tolerance stage, which is farther than most people who came into contact with Wednesday got, so you were proud.

She wasn’t warmer per se, but the sight of you in her dorm was no longer met with a throwing knife, just a death glare and some tentative (mostly one-sided) conversation if she was in a good mood. It was a big win.

Now that she wasn’t orchestrating any attempts on your life, you grew…not protective, but defensive of her, and Enid for that matter. Enid was your friend and Wednesday was…Wednesday. Willingly or not, they were part of your small circle.

So when a werewolf insulted Wednesday right to her face the day before the Poe Cup, well who could blame you for getting a little revenge?

You overheard him call Wednesday a frigid bitch, and he was right, but he didn’t have to say it like it was a bad thing. In retaliation, you and Thing gave him a special surprise involving shampoo and some of Enid’s hair dye that you were very excited to see the next day.

And it didn’t disappoint. Seeing the flash of bright pink amongst the Furs, and a matching flush of embarrassment that was nearly the same color was the highlight of your day.

At least it was until the Black Cats emerged from their tents.

Given your positioning, you were only able to see them once they started climbing into their canoe, and needless to say that the team’s roster shocked you. There were a few girls you didn’t recognize up front, then Enid and, as her co-pilot in the back, Wednesday.

Your jaw dropped. Because not only was she competing in the competition, but she was also wearing a skintight black catsuit, complete with ears and a tail.

The laugh you let out was so loud that it startled the surrounding crowd. You felt something poking your leg, and looking down, you found Thing standing by your feet. You bent down, glancing over to the Black Cat’s boat.

“Hey, you helping out Wednesday and Enid?”

He bowed in confirmation. Nodding, you stuck out a hand.

“Punch at least one siren for me, alright bud?”

He shook your hand firmly, a promise to fulfill your wish, and crawled off to the boat.

The event itself was rather dull. With the way Enid explained it, you were expecting something a bit more grandiose, but in reality, it was just standing around and watching for boats. Boring.

But hey, it gave you a half-day of classes, so who were you to complain?

The results though, were much more interesting.

For the first time in decades, the trophy went to Ophelia Hall. You were happy, not because you had any buried school spirit, but because you knew how much Enid wanted this. Seeing the fish get knocked down a peg was a nice bonus.

Afterward, you pushed through the crowd to try and find Enid so you could personally congratulate her, but before you could spot her, you bumped into her co-pilot. Literally.

Blindly, you steadied the smaller girl by the shoulders, a sorry on the tip of your tongue, but it got swallowed down as you were crudely reminded of her current state of dress. You tore your eyes from her outfit and dropped your hands back to your side, meeting her glare with what you prayed was a straight face.

“Hey, Wends. Congrats on the win! Love the outfit by the way,” you said, trying your absolute hardest not to crack a smile. The large ears were making that exceptionally hard, however.

She scowled. “Don’t call me that and for your information, I was forced to wear this.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without laughing. Thankfully, it seemed Wednesday wasn’t finished speaking anyway.

“I noticed that werewolf’s hair is now a rather putrid shade of pink,” she said. “Did you perhaps have something to do with that?”

Once again, you found yourself unsuccessfully fighting off a smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. But it suits him, don’t you think?”

Before she could respond, a soaking wet Thing pulled on your pant leg and excitedly began recounting what happened. You bent down again, nodding along with his story, and beamed at him once he finished.

“Right in the eye?” you reiterated, and Thing confirmed. “That’s awesome. I knew I could count on you.” You gave him a quick high five then scooped him up, drying him off on your uniform and setting him on your shoulder.

You stood back up and saw that Wednesday was still there, staring at you so intently that you were sure she was somehow looking straight through you.

Cocking your head to the side, you went to ask if she was alright, but that must’ve knocked her from her stupor because, without another word, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving you to stare at the spot she just occupied, thoroughly bewildered.

“That was weird,” you commented. Thing gave an agreeing pat.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t question her about it since you didn’t get the chance to speak with her again until exactly three days later.

It was just after dinner. Thing invited you over to help prepare a new scheme, and who were you to say no to the little guy?

Enid was visiting Yoko in the infirmary and Wednesday was nowhere to be seen, so it was just you and Thing, sitting by the window hard at work.

You tied the water balloon in your hand and held it in front of you, giving it a contemplative look. “You’re sure these will only give them bad rashes, right?”

The only response you received was a shrug, which was good enough for you, so you picked up the next one and got to filling it up. Not one to work in silence, you voiced a thought you’d been holding in for a while.

“So, do you breathe? Like, would be able to drown if you stayed under the water for too long?”

Thing shook his wrist matter of factly. You gasped.

“That’s so cool.” The flustered thuds you heard after made you chuckle.

Satisfied, you went back to filling balloons, but your head popped up only a minute later, another burning question on your mind. “If you can’t eat or drink, then what physically sustains you to keep you alive?”

Without missing a beat, Thing tapped out his answer.

“The misery of others?” You snorted. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.”

Conversation lapsed into quiet as you both focused on your tasks, and your mind wandered.

You wondered where Wednesday was. The hour just after dinner was her designated writing hour, and it was very unusual for her to be missing it.

You hoped that she’d be back soon, even if she only glared at you the rest of the night. Just seeing her would be enough to satisfy you.

Because in a somewhat cruel twist of irony, you were now falling victim to the very same feelings you mocked others for getting caught up in, and even more brutal was the fact that you didn’t mind all too much. Mostly because it was Wednesday.

Now, you were no poet or writer. You weren’t going to wax poetic and spew a thousand grandiose metaphors about how her eyes resembled that of a starless sky, no.

Wednesday was really pretty and genuinely interesting, and she looked at you like a predator wanting to tear apart its prey. And really, that’s all it took for you to dive right off that cliff’s edge into infatuation.

There was a certain excitement in knowing that she could dismember you with surgical precision if you ever went just a little too far, an irresistible thrill to be found in constantly toeing that line. Like walking a tightrope with life and death teetering on a knife’s edge—the perfect counterbalance to the endless loop of monotonous boredom your life had seemingly fallen into before her and Thing’s arrival.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your train of thought, and you whipped your head just in time to see Wednesday stride in with a book cradled in her arms and her usual annoyed expression adorning her features.

You perked up, and out the corner of your eye, you saw Thing do the same.

“Hey! How’s Nevermore’s resident tiny terror doing today?”

“Call me that again and I will disembowel you,” came her cheerful reply. You snorted.

“Uh-huh.” You finished tying the last balloon and looked back up, seeing Wednesday eyeing your prep work with distaste.

“Are those water balloons?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Yep. They’re filled with holy water so we can throw them at the vampires who were teasing Enid last week for not being able to shift.” You grinned. Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction.

“That’s insane,” she commented. Then after a beat, “Make sure to film it on your cellular device so I can watch as well.

“Of course,” you assured her, giving a dramatic bow as well. She rolled her eyes, and you watched her resign to her desk. Unable to contain your curiosity, you piped back up, “So what took you so long? I was expecting you to come in and kick me out hours ago.”

Her reply was instantaneous. “I discovered a secret passageway in the school, committed theft, and became the target of an attempted kidnapping.”

A twinge of jealousy pierced your gut. How come she always got to do the fun stuff? You quickly shook it off, focusing on the first thing she said.

“A secret passageway?” you asked, already thinking of ways to possibly utilize the space for you and Thing.

“Yes, I solved a riddle and uncovered a passageway hidden behind the Edgar Allen Poe statue in the quad.”

The Edgar Allen Poe statue… Recognition sparked, and the pieces slotted together, some of your prior jealousy abating.

“Ohh, you got kidnapped in the Nightshade’s Library?”

Finally, she looked at you, gaze so sharp it could’ve cut you in two. “How do you know about that?”

You and Thing shared an unsubtle sideways glance.

“Uh—”

“So what fingers do you do it with? Thumb and ring finger or thumb and middle finger?”

The pressing question was delivered in a whisper. It was late—at least an hour after lights out, but Thing promised to teach you how to snap before he left for his dorm.

So to avoid being caught, you and the appendage were tucked into the corner of a small hall that branched off from the quad. You were hunched against a tall Edgar Allen Poe statue while your companion stood next to you.

Thing waggled his fingers and pointedly put his thumb against his middle finger. You nodded and copied his movements, rubbing the fingers together to get a feel for it.

“So I just…”

You pressed the fingers together and made the snapping motion a few times in quick succession, beaming up at him when you managed to produce a few low sounds.

Suddenly, a deep rumble emanated from the ground beneath you as the statue you were seated on began to shift. You leapt to your feet, quickly grabbing Thing and placing him on your shoulder. You both watched, baffled, as the statue moved to reveal a long winding staircase.

Taking in a breath, you shared a look with Thing then looked back to the open pathway.

“Holy shit!”

“No reason,” you said far too quickly to be believable. Before she could question you further, you cleared your throat and moved on. “Did you have fun?”

“No. They were imbeciles that didn’t even know the basics of the art of abduction. It was pitiful.”

You frowned. “Oh. Sorry about that. I hope the next one is better.”

Wednesday shot you a strange look, studying you carefully before mumbling out a barely audible thank you, and turning back to her desk.

Since you were finished with the balloons, you slumped back against the window. There was nothing to do, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your eyes drifted back to Wednesday’s hunched form. Nosiness tugged at you. You wanted to know more about what she stole and why, and a glance at Thing told you that he did too.

Extending your arm for him to climb, you waited until he rested securely on your shoulder before heading to Wednesday’s desk to see what she was up to.

Lying flat on the wood before her was the book, opened to an illustration. On the left page was what looked to be a pilgrim extending a staff toward the figure on the right, who somewhat resembled Wednesday. You squinted. Scratch that, the girl on the right looked exactly like Wednesday.

“Is this what you stole?”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look over my shoulder like that.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other, your mind too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the drawing to actually listen. Finally, the identity of the mystery pilgrim clicked, and you asked, “Why’d someone draw you in a picture with Crackstone?”

Her head whipped over to you, all complaints of you being there gone. “You know who this is?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “Joseph Crackstone. He’s like, Jericho’s chief colonizer. Founded the whole town or something.”

She didn’t respond, seeming to take in the information, but you didn’t want the conversation to die quite yet, so you carried on.

“Outreach Day is next week, are you excited? I, for one, am pumped to do menial work for no pay.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, then appeared to rethink her answer. “Actually yes, but not because of the forced child labor. I already have plans to further my investigation in Jericho.”

You perked up, leaning forward to try and catch her eyes. “Can I come?”

She didn’t even bother looking back at you when she answered, hard and firm.

“No.”

-

“Thanks for letting me come along, Wends!”

Wednesday clenched her jaw, expelling a sharp breath through her nose. This was the third time you’d said that in the past four hours, and while she was able to ignore the other two, the addition of that stupid nickname made holding herself back a third time impossible.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And you’re only here because someone,” she sent Thing a murderous glare, “refused to cooperate without your agonizing presence.”

Your eyes widened, darting over to the hand resting on your shoulder. “Really?”

Thing gave a shy wave. A wide smile spread across your cheeks in response.

“Well thanks for advocating for me, bud. It means a lot,” you said with a hand over your heart, sounding far too cheerful for someone that just chased a dangerous monster.

Wednesday didn’t bother dignifying you with any more responses, turning back to the woods ahead. But that got her thinking.

Why had she let you come anyways?

There was no good reason that came to mind. You were insufferable. The human embodiment of vexation and foolishness and petulance. You were, in essence, all the traits she disliked in the general human race given physical form.

And yet, she had allowed you to come along.

Yes, Thing asked her time and time again to permit your presence, but instead of threatening his life like she should have done, she gave in with the silent promise of revenge.

It made no sense. You pushed boundaries, disobeyed orders, and disregarded her threats and insults with a garish smile like they were no more than a joke heard in passing.

And only now did she realize that she found it far less irritating than she did when she first met you.

The answer to why was unclear, but Wednesday wasn’t sure if that was because she was genuinely unsure of the reasoning behind her decision or because she didn’t want to figure it out.

Your annoying voice thankfully halted her mind’s trajectory.

“Of course, you’re my favorite Addams. You’re my best friend, the only other five-fingered appendage I’ll ever need in my life. Plus, Wednesday hates me so there’s no competition.”

Wednesday was once again stunned by the inane conversations you and Thing have on a daily basis. Some of the talks she’d overheard in the past months could be unironically described as mind-numbing.

Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, she turned to fully face you, running her eyes over your form before speaking.

“I don’t hate you.”

She watched your eyes go wide and you looked at her with some odd form of hope. The corners of her lips twitched.

“I despise you. There’s a difference.”

Your head dropped exaggeratedly, but when you looked up again there was a smile on your face, making any notion of hers disappear.

She couldn’t stand that—the way you were never put off by anything she had to say.

Enid had the same tendency to shrug off her threats, but even she was unnerved when she first met Wednesday. But not you. Wednesday couldn’t think of a single time when anything she said, threat or otherwise, made you uncomfortable or fearful, and there was seldom anything that got under her skin more.

“That was mean, Wednesday. Really mean.” She noticed Thing say something on your shoulder and you gave a playful gasp in response. “Don’t laugh, Thing. That wasn’t funny,” you said, even though you were giggling yourself.

At the sight and sound of your laughter, something strange happened. Something combusted within her, and the flames spread, licking her sternum with an uncomfortable intensity. Like someone crudely lit a match and let it fall inside of her chest, allowing the fire to wreak havoc on her insides. It was unpleasant.

Even more unpleasant was the knowledge that this was not the first time this had happened. And that was but another in the long list of reasons why she shouldn’t have permitted your presence today.

She faced forward abruptly and kept walking, but you entered her peripheral moments later, no doubt ready to bother her with something.

As always, she was proven correct. “Hey, so you said that Crackstone was in that vision with your ancestor, right? And he killed a bunch of outcasts?”

“Correct.”

That mischievous smile she had come to recognize spread across your face, pulling your lips up at a slightly uneven angle.

“What do you say we get a little revenge?”

“And how exactly do you propose we get revenge on a pilgrim that died centuries ago?” she inquired skeptically.

You hummed. “Undecided but you go on ahead and just let the masterminds cook for a bit. I promise we’ll come up with something great.”

You and Thing flashed her a simultaneous thumbs-up, to which she just blinked. Not needing to be told twice, she started walking again, leaving you both to linger behind. Once there was a sufficient distance between you and her, she slowed slightly.

Though she had just made a vital discovery for her case, she figured this brief period of quiet would be better spent unpacking that persistent internal conflagration that flared whenever you were near.

Deigning to use her tried and true investigative process, she tried to start from the beginning, to gather all the information she had and prepare it for analysis, but she immediately got lost because truthfully, she couldn’t pinpoint the start of your assimilation into her daily routine.

Her…acquaintanceship with you made little sense, even to her. Especially to her. The same could also be said about her budding friendship? with Enid, but that was easier to parse.

Enid was her roommate; someone she quite literally couldn’t avoid since they lived together. But you weren’t. You were Thing’s friend, sure, but that didn’t answer the question of why Wednesday was becoming entangled with you as well.

However, looking at it from a logical perspective, it somewhat made sense.

A mutual penchant for mischief and practical jokes is what drew you and Thing together. In that same vein, she supposed that your insatiable appetite for adventure and her unquenchable thirst for triumph put you both on a collision course that neither of you could prevent. Especially in such a creatively stagnant climate as Nevermore.

A rebel and a renegade—two of a kind. You understood her and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she understood you.

She just didn’t know how to interpret the unexpected side effects that came with that mutual understanding.

(That was a lie, she realized. Somewhere deep down she knew, but she didn’t want it to mean what she thought it might. After all, she couldn’t possibly be letting someone like you turn her into an apostate to her own beliefs and morals…right?

She thought back to what she said to her mother on her first day, how hypocritical her words looked in the face of this dilemma. God, how pitiful of a circumstance she found herself in.)

Either way, Wednesday had allowed the sparks to ignite, and she knew that any chance she had of tempering the subsequent wildfire it caused was lessening with every moment she knowingly spent with you in her space.

Part of her didn’t want to anyway.

Approaching voices behind her caught her attention. Focusing on the present once more, she listened in.

“That’s an awesome idea, right?” she heard you say lowly.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. Everything was either cool, awesome, or amazing to you. She desperately needed to expand your vocabulary if you were going to be sticking around. For her sanity.

Wet footsteps neared, and you ran ahead of Wednesday, turning to face her with a demeanor resembling that of an excitable puppy. She sped up her pace, but you matched it, even while walking backward.

“Ok, Wednesday, plan secured. You know what I need?”

“A thesaurus?”

You blinked, brows furrowed, then shrugged. “Yeah, probably but I was actually gonna say that I need gasoline, and matches.”

“Well, there’s a hardware store a block down from the Weathervane, you could get gasoline from there. I have the matches covered.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow quirked, a grin appearing along with it. “You have matches on you?”

“Of course. I carry a box with me everywhere I go.”

Your smile widened.

Wednesday ignored the flames ravaging her organs and asked, “Are you going to tell me what this ‘plan’ is?”

“And ruin the surprise? No. All I’m gonna say is that you should have another song prepared for the unveiling.”

She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes again. Given the materials you needed, Wednesday had a good idea of what you were planning anyway, and thankfully, she had just the song in mind.

The three of you parted ways as you reentered the town proper, you and Thing running off to gather supplies, and Wednesday, after handing her matches over, headed into the square to prepare her cello.

Unsurprisingly, she was the first person there. She sat in the seat by her cello, languidly checking its strings more out of a need for something to do than because she needed to. Her cello was always perfectly tuned.

It didn’t take very long for you to follow, running into the square with a canister of gasoline and a bag of what looked to be gunpowder. She heard a low “let’s blow this fucker back to hell, Thing” before you split up, Thing pouring the gasoline in the base of the statue while you created a trail of black powder from the statue to behind the bleachers.

Wednesday watched you, the familiar feeling of being proven right tugging her lips upward. If nothing else, your flair for the dramatic was commendable.

You both finished and took refuge behind the bleachers just as people started filing in for the ceremony. As the normie high school band set up behind her, she took note of how nobody looked particularly enthused to be here (besides Enid, who would somehow find a way to be excited to watch paint dry).  

Soon, the ceremony was underway, and it was as underwhelming as Wednesday expected it to be. Just a plethora of fake smiles, stale claps, and off-key notes from the laughingstock of a “band” performing with her.

An explosion might not even be enough to resuscitate the audience at this point.

Once the fountain was turned on, Wednesday sent a sideways glance to you and you nodded, signaling something to Thing on the ground below. A trail of smoke and the telltale sound of burning gunpowder followed and Wednesday felt her dead heart begin to pick up pace at the thought of the coming anarchy.

Finally, the looming bronze figure burst into a brilliant ball of flame, the sound of the blast washing away the wretched off-key notes of the incompetent band behind her.

As the panic began to set in, her fingers moved on their own, relishing the familiar feel of the aching, discordant cords of Vivaldi’s Winter.

In moments, Jericho’s empty streets were flooded with people running in terror as sirens wailed in the distance. The harmonious screams that erupted from both outcasts and normies alike were almost more pleasant to her ears than the song that she was playing.

Principal Weems glared at her from afar, eyes narrowed in brewing suspicion, and Wednesday stared right back, lips coiling into a poisonous smile.

Tearing her eyes away from the principal, she peered through the haze of the smoke toward the bleachers. You were watching her with wide, awestruck eyes and a smile. You only looked away briefly to give Thing a fist bump before turning back toward her, but her gaze never faltered from you. Even with all of the glorious chaos happening around her.

That horrible, detestable feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance, blazing brighter than the raging fire to her right. But in this moment, she welcomed it, let it fuel her as the music reached its climax.

As the warm orange glow of the flames reflected off the raw excitement and amazement in your eyes and her treacherous song came to its end, Wednesday recognized that perhaps neither hatred nor disdain was quite the right word to describe how she felt for you after all.

And perhaps becoming a heretic and a hypocrite wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all (though it would certainly be close). 

[therainscene]

Much of the supernatural horror that Will has to contend with works extremely well as a metaphor for his issues -- the Upside Down is the closet, the monsters represent homophobia, his powers are as repressed as he is, yadda yadda -- and in my opinion, this makes him a relatively easy character to analyze. Being able to draw on the supernatural stuff just gives you a lot more material to work with.

Mike, though? A goddamn enigma. He’s often present when supernatural stuff is happening, but he doesn’t interact with it to anywhere near the degree that Will does, and it’s much harder to fold him into the allegory being told here without reducing him to “Will’s love interest”.

And that’s interesting, don’t you think?

That the “stereotypical” gay boy who attracts homophobes like moths to a flame has had his issues laid out in code since the beginning? Whereas the straight-passing one, who’s so deep in the closet he’s probably not even out to himself yet, is so hard to read that most of the GA assume his bizarre personality change in S3 was a symptom of bad writing?

Figuring yourself out as a queer is a challenge even today, and part of the reason it’s so challenging is because heteronormativity steamrolls right over our right to know that being queer is a valid option.

The closet isn’t a queer space -- it’s a queer-shaped void within a heteronormative space.

Stranger Things is full of examples of this:

Will isn’t shy about expressing his disgust at the thought of dating girls, but he’s dealing with a lot of childhood trauma so he’s just a late bloomer, right?

Will is jealous and upset about his new step-sister’s relationship with the boy he’s been attached to at the hip since he was five, but it must be because he’s in love with her or otherwise misses his platonic buddy, right?

El’s character arc is about freeing herself from toxic relationships with men, but her infatuation with the boy who puts her on a pedestal is the one exception to that, right?

Robin shows zero romantic interest in men before coming out, but she and Steve just vibe so well it’s reasonable to assume they’re love interests, right?

Vickie paused Fast Times at fifty-three minutes five seconds, but she has a boyfriend so she must be straight, right?

Over and over, the show presents us with an ambiguously queer situation and dares us to assume it’ll end heteronormatively.

If this were any other show I’d call it queerbaiting... but these situations just keep ending in a non-heteronormative way, all while symbolically dancing around Mike.

Granted, “non-heteronormative” doesn’t necessarily equal gay -- El’s arc is more about independence and forging healthy platonic relationships than about replacing men with women -- but she’s still on the path to breaking out of comphet, which is rather a queer act regardless of whether she's literally queer herself.

But I’m digressing.

We’ve seen how Will is visibly queer and struggles with the trauma of being abused for it, and how his closet is symbolized by the existence of a literal alternate dimension full of monsters.

But Mike is invisible, so his closet isn’t represented by a metaphor at all, but by something more meta than that -- it’s etched out in the negative space formed by the narrative itself. Only the audience can see it, and then only if we’re paying attention, tracing the edges of the story and feeling out the shape it results in.

These two different approaches in depicting the struggle of being closeted remind me of drowning.

In films, drowning is a noisy and dramatic affair, easy to identify.

But in real life, drowning doesn’t look like what we think it does -- it’s silent and resembles calm water play. All too often, drowning victims will quietly slip under and succumb helplessly to the depths...

...right under everyone’s noses.

[quirkwizard]

MHA Characters in Horror Movies

As it is All Hallow's Eve, I thought it'd be fun to do something more in line with the holiday. And what's more in line with the holiday then wondering how some of your favorite characters would fare in a horror movies. Sans Quirks, of course. Can't give any of our would be victims a chance, now can we?

The First Victim: A basic but useful tool to set up the killer for the film. Someone close enough to the cast to set up the rest of the characters, but no one near important enough that you remember their names by the time the opening credits finish.

The Hapless Authority: Any kind of power within the movie who would be able to help out. So they're either incompetent, mean-spirited, or just out of the movie. If they are in it, it either's a last-second rescue or to be killed to show how bad the situation is.

The Disbeliever: Usually part of the authority figures, but can be part of the cast, these are going to be the people that are denying everyone and everything that is happening. No, your friend wasn't decapitated by a monster. It's clearly an accident.

The Hysterical One: Some of the background friends or random people who are only around to get killed early on to pad the numbers, give over-the-top reactions to the terrible situation, just to stand around and look pretty, or even all of the above.

The Gimmick: Characters that are only really around to get killed and only have one defining character trait to them. One that will almost certainly play some role in how they die. Some even have the misfortune of being cast as "comedic relief".

The Know It All: The person who is going to go off to try and find out what's really going on with all the strange killings. That or they are figures that already have some knowledge about what is happening. Tend to be massive nerds or supernaturally inclined.

The Tough One: This is usually a punk or jock kind of character. The point is, they are the tough ones who are heading into danger, ego in tact, before quickly realizing how dead they are. Can and will try to one on one whatever the monster is.

Secondary Survivor: The secondary characters that disappear from the plot for a bit to have the final survivor take on the monster. Maybe they ran away to get help, maybe they are too wounded to help out, or maybe they didn't even die in the first place.

The Final Survivor: The last person standing against the horror show. Tend to either be the bland every person, someone with a deep tie to the monster they are fighting, or the one person who has the will to push themselves to fight whatever terror's in their way.

The Obvious Killer: The classic red herring. You just need someone around to be creppy or to throw certain characters off from what is really happening. Usually just around to die when the real killer finally gets revealed and they don't have any purpose left in the plot.

The Villains: Ah, but a horror movie is only as good as its villains. And there are so many wonderful choices. The horrific science experiment, the revengeful revenant back from the dead, the seemingly normal girl hiding from the crowd, the hulking brute, the mad scientist, and just a straight-up serial killer.

Notes: -Ojiro and Hagkaure would for sure be that couple killed at the start of the movie.

-Mina is the scream queen of the class, without question. Aoyama is a close second.

-Denki is the kind of guy who calls out people's names in the dark when he hears a noise.

-Koda's pet is the likely target for the first kill because that's easy evil killer cred.

-Spinner is going to be the guy who clearly shows that the writers have never played a video game in their life.

-Momo and Hawks are the kind of people to do hours of research in the library, because the writer can't seem to grasp that people would use the Internet.

-Tokoyami and Ibara are the goth and religious person looking up spells or holy books to defeat the monster if it's of a more mystical persuasion.

-Kirishima is the person who is going to go for the sacrifice play against the monster. Bakugou just straight up thinks he can take them.

-If you cannot see Izuku and Uraraka surviving to the end of the movie, dirty, bloody, but alive after beating the killer, then you do not understand their characters.

-The entire set up of the Todoroki family feels like it could easily be applied to a horror movie. Like you have the death of a family member literally haunting the family.

[glassamphibians]

how did you read so many books??! that’s so cooll

do you have a favorite from this year? :)

most of my reading is done by listening to audiobooks while driving/doing chores/etc! I moved to receiving at work this year too which means I get to listen to books while I unpack books for like seven hours straight it rules. For physical books i literally just always have one on me and take it out whenever i can.

I read so many good books this year I Cannot narrow it down to just one so I'm doing ten under the read more <3

GLASS AMPHIBIANS 2024 FAVES BY GENRE KIND OF IF YOU SQUINT:

A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark: This book is just so vibrant. I was immediately in love with steampunk Cairo and the protagonist, Fatma, is easily one of my favorite female characters of all time. You need to read everything Clark writes i am so serious.

The West Passage by Jared Pechaček: this Expertly conveys incomprehensible enormity and humbling smallness in a way that i have never read before!!! Possibly one of the most unique fantasy novels I've read AND each chapter has beautiful illustrations done by the author! huge for fans of Piranesi or Monument Valley.

The Spear Cuts Through Water by Simon Jimenez: also one of the most unique high fantasies i've ever read this was fucking insane. An experiment in perspective and world building that honestly made me a danger to other people driving do not handle large machinery while trying to follow this. This is a love story to its blade-dented bone.

Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler: Duh. Post apocalyptic novels full of spiteful, unrelenting optimism and compassion are the most important things in the world. genre ever. idk what else to say like its octavia butler of course its gonna be on here

A Mask of Flies by Matthew Lyons: one of those horror novels that i desperately need to see made into a movie. For some reason I started this thinking there was no supernatural aspect and jesus christ was i wrong there's a Creature in here!!!! a very gross and scary and weird one!!! So action packed with a disgruntled, dislikable female protagonist I would literally follow to the ends of the earth she's so kick ass.

The Bog Wife by Kay Chronister: a more literary horror novel that i can really only describe as damp. I seriously considered dunking my copy in a creek so its appearance would better match whats going on inside. This fucked up family dynamic and decaying, sodden mansion was so up my alley, and Chronister's prose was so easy to fall into.

Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad: An actress returns to Palestine and ends up involved in a contentious production of Hamlet in the West Bank. Hammad's prose is unreal. She published a speech on Palestine and storytelling this year that goes perfectly with this book. The protagonist's relationship with Palestine is beautifully explored I could not put this book down.

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters: This is an extremely introspective, character driven novel about transfemininity and motherhood that I read in march and have thought about at least once a week since. Peters captures the messiness and complexities of queer identities so perfectly. She has new book coming out in 2025 that i am frothing at the mouth waiting for.

In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado: A memoir and a poem and a horror novel and a film criticism and a choose-your-own-adventure story and so much more. Machado plays with genres and tropes in order to articulate her time in an abusive lesbian relationship. Incredibly creative and addictive read, Machado is so talented. My mom had to stop me from trying to read this while waiting for a wedding to start.

The Women's House of Detention by Hugh Ryan: Researched with so much care and time, this follows the history of this prison and the lives of the people who were incarcerated there. Some are famous, like Angela Davis, but the vast majority of its inhabitants were forgotten. Ryan specifically follows queer individuals and looks at how the Women's House of Detention impacted the queer history and culture of Greenwhich Village. Must read for anybody interested in prison abolition.

there were a billion trillion more phenomenal reads this year i love u books i love u reading xoxoxoxo

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

I need to know out of all the tr characters who would hate and like horror movies the most? (Benkei is heavily in the hate side, thanks to the character book lol) it would just be funny if you imagine all of them cuddled up to watch horror movies together, some were pretending to have a straight face (but wants to sh1t themselves so bad), some are covering with blankets crying, some were puking (because of the gore), and then there’s the one who’s laughing because someone got killed lmao

Lmao that is a funny image to think of! Ok so

Mikey- Isn't bothered by it, he's actually more focused on either the movie snacks he convinced Draken to bring or he's fallen asleep.

Draken- Gets emotionally invested in it, isn't bothered but enjoys cheering for the good guys.

Takemichi- Crying, trembling, holding Hina's hand for emotional support.

Hina- She's a bit flinchy with all the jumpscares but isn't keen on the gore but can watch. Is more focused on comforting Takemichi anyway.

Emma- Grossed out by the gore, will watch the other parts but turns her head away from the gore.

Naoto- Loves it! He's totally engrossed in the film, he seems fascinated in it.

Baji- Completely at ease with horror, probably laughs at certain points.

Chifuyu- Doesn't mind human killers so much but gets easily scared of supernatural stuff.

Mitsuya- Enjoys a horror a decent amount, isn't scared.

Hakkai- Gets a tiny bit scared but is good at hiding it (just look at how tight he clenches his fists while watching).

Pah- DOES THE DOG DIE!???? THE DOG BETTER NOT DIE!

Peh- People think he's scared while watching them because of his eyes but he's actually fine with watching them.

Smiley- 100% laughs at the scary bits

Angry- Remains unbothered by it, he's used to most horror from Smiley so it can't phase him.

Mucho- Also unbothered, it's just a movie what's the big deal?

Sanzu- Takes notes.

Kisaki- Doesn't care much, he probably does flich a few times throughout though (and gets teased by Hanma because of it).

Hanma- Another laugher, takes great delight in trying to scare the other people watching too. Will suddenly grab them as the movie reaches it's climax to try and make them yell.

Kazutora- Largely unaffected by it, some of the louder jumpscares make him a little on edge though.

Inui- Sits there silently throughout with a small smile on his face

Koko- Is completely grossed out by the blood, doesn't get why Inui loves this stuff so much.

Taiju- Fine with it, is perfectly happy watching horror.

Yuzuha- Also completely fine with horror, she knows it's all just special effects.

Izana- Is so unbothered that he finds it boring sometimes, prefers to watch Kakucho's or whoever he's watching with reactions instead.

Kakucho- Loves horror but is effected by it, like the jumpscares do get him but that's part of the fun of watching to him.

Rindou- Also loves horror, he especially loves the sounds of the terrified screams and the fight scenes.

Ran- Moderate horror enjoyer, it's not his favourite thing ever, mainly because he doesn't get scared by it but will watch it.

Shion- Talks about how he'd survive the killer the whole time and how the character's are making mistakes. At least he's generally enjoying it though?

Mochi- Also enjoys the fight scenes the most.

Shinichiro- Not as bad as Takemichi but definitely gets scared easily by the film. Tries to hide it more though (esp if he's on a date).

Takeomi- Fairly into horror, probably showed Senju and Sanzu the films a bit too young.

Benkei- Canonically hates horror, despises the guys whenever they suggest watching a horror film together.

Wakasa- Loves horror, especially after he finds out how much Benkei hates it. It becomes his new favourite thing to tease Benkei over.

Senju- Also loves horror, was probably watching things since she was young. Very expressive when she watches, laughs if something manages to scare her.

South- Likes horror, isn't scared by it so he focuses more on the story and the soundtrack.

[emmy-hunterson-schofield]

Evergreen, a Chrissy&Eddie one-shot

"Chrissy… Chrissy, answer me, now!" Christine Cunningham ran through the darkly lit hallway of her pristine childhood home, trying to find a way out as her mother's demanding voice reverberated through her ears.

She still wore her pajamas as she sprinted in terror, a Black Sabbath t-shirt and sleeping shorts as her bare legs were chilled… the shirt courtesy of her boyfriend, Eddie Munson, who would always lend her his clothes to wear whenever she wanted.

And in this nightmare, all she wanted was him, as the place she had felt the safest in years was in his presence, ever since that moment in the woods behind the school grounds. His arms around her always protective and reassuring…

Her shoeless feet slid on the wooden steps of her former home, as she tried not to fall in her haste to escape from the monster pursuing her.

It didn't make sense why she was still having nightmares about Vecna, as they had already defeated him months ago and Hawkins was barely putting itself back together after the reported "earthquake".

But, he would probably always haunt her after giving her waking visions of her traumas and even in her dreams, this felt more real than ever.

Chrissy made it downstairs, looking for signs of being followed… she didn't see anyone.

No Dad or little brother in the living room. But surely her mother was still around, focused on 'perfecting' her flaws as Laura Cunningham only viewed Chrissy as a doll to be poked and prodded and shaped into an unrealistic mould.

A foul, putrid odor permeated from the dining room and Chrissy wanted to retch at the smell, her gag reflex bubbling up her esophagus as she tried to keep from vomiting on the spot as she went to the front door.

She could almost feel the cool fogging mist outside.

And the entrance was boarded up with numerous planks of wood, barring her escape.

Chrissy screamed in frantic desperation, pounding her small fists on the wood, the pain of impact bruising her knuckles as she cried out.

"Help! Somebody please, let me out of here!" She leaned her body against the wood, knowing her slight weight wouldn't budge the barricade. "Eddie, please save me!"

In any other situation, she would have felt pathetic, calling out to be rescued by the boy she loved. A literal damsel in distress needing salvation from a knight in shining armor…

And with Eddie's love for 'Dungeons & Dragons', she certainly viewed him as one, even if the rest of Hawkins didn't see his best qualities.

Tears stung her eyes as the voice from upstairs rumbled through the walls, shaking the family pictures and hanging chandeliers from the ceilings.

"You're trapped, Chrissy. Nobody is here to help you." Vecna in his supernatural form of spider-like monstrous appearance, like a creature out of a vintage horror film, stood many feet from her, his ice blue eyes glaring straight at her as she froze. "You're not escaping me again. You will be consumed by your demons. You're a burden that needs to be obliterated."

His words sent a chill down her spine, noting the verbiage she had heard her own mother say to her in the past on multiple occasions throughout the years, even before she was a teenager.

"I'm sick and tired of you, Chrissy. You do nothing but make a mess.

You're a burden on this family… I deserve a better daughter than a detestable brat like you.

What happened to that good little girl I loved? Do you know how disappointed I am to be your mother?"

Chrissy closed her eyes, trying to drown out the hurtful verbal abuse of her mother… trying to remind herself that she indeed was loved and treasured for who she was by those outside of her blood family.

Eddie's gentle voice sounded in her head, a small smile crawling on her chapped lips as she remembered them growing closer as she had confessed her secrets to him.

"I don't understand, Chrissy? Your mother starves you?

Yeah, she does… every day.

We need to get you help. It's not right, what you're going through.

Don't try to save me, Eddie… I'm fine.

No, Chrissy, you're not fine… you're just strong. And you deserve everything."

After that declaration, she had kissed him for the first time… soft and warm and firm and sheltering. Eddie all around her…

How she had thought of the methods he would go to save her from her prison of a home and get her away from her mother.

Everything short of Eddie bursting into the church during the Sunday sermon, plucking Chrissy from her family's pew to the preacher's podium and displaying Chrissy's hidden marks beneath her blouse, bruises and freshly bleeding wounds from her mother's sharp needles and pinching fingernails, exposing the Cunningham matriarch to the whole upper-class Hawkins congregation as the bitter and spiteful shrew she truly was.

"Her mom does this to her… it's not a secret now."

His gentle, guitar string calloused fingers carefully pulling Chrissy's shirt back down to cover her up again, his voice a soft whisper in her ear…

"She won't do it anymore, princess."

"Let go of MY daughter, you delinquent!"

Eddie's arms shielding her from Laura reaching out with manicured claws, and the scandalized churchgoers gasping at the display of her shrill and hysterical temper…

Chrissy opened her eyes, her gumption returning to her as she ran away from the door, her athletic legs steadfastly carrying her through the living den to the dining room…

Silverware on the table, weapons she could use to fend herself from Vecna.

She heard him groan and growl as he turned to follow her, primal and terrifying as Chrissy's heart beat a painful marathon within her chest.

She was at the dining table, the horrid aroma of spoiled rotten food assaulting her nostrils as she almost gagged on the spot… her trembling fingers reached for the large knife, the blade reflecting her tear-stained face as she felt the vibration of Vecna's footsteps.

"Where do you think you're going, Chrissy? You don't want to miss out on this grand feast…"

A shadow passed over Vecna, and she recognized the shape he was transforming into… an all-too familiar silhouette, tall and slender and impeccable…

But her mother's face wasn't her own.

Vecna had changed himself into a paranormal version of her mother, white eyes with no pupils or irises, her teeth fang-like and pointed like a witch.

"Mom?" Chrissy asked, recognizing the visions from Spring Break, when she had been taken before by Vecna and held captive by her fears.

She held up the blade, preparing to defend herself from the beast after her.

A pair of black, slick tentacles reached out and grabbed her ankles and her wrists and Chrissy dropped the knife in her startled reaction.

She screamed out in terror, as she was dragged to a kitchen chair and pushed against the table's edge, the sickening smell of the putrid food flooded up into her nose and she swallowed the bile in her throat as she wanted to purge… flies and maggots crawled and flew all around the overstuffed plates, buzzing and squelching…

Her wrists were strapped to the cold arms of the chair, her ankles tied to the chair's legs. Chrissy struggled and fought against her restraints. "NO! LET ME GO!"

"You're not getting away again, Christine… you're weak and insignificant. You're nothing without me to guide you." Laura's sing-song voice came from Vecna's shape-shifted version of her.

Another black, sliming vine wrapped around Chrissy's throat, coiling tight and slowly squeezing. She choked against the slow strangulation, watching to see her "mother" stuff a plate of spoiled food with potatoes and bleeding steak bathed in various sauces, dripping and nauseating.

"Open up wide, sweetheart. A chubby little piggy needs to eat…"

Vecna/Laura held out a large spoonful of brown potatoes soaked in watery gravy and covered in swimming maggots... her white eyes mocking.

Vomit exploded from Chrissy's mouth, rancid and acidic and she struggled to breathe as the tentacle wrapped tighter around her neck, encircling around her jaw… and entering her mouth invasively and she convulsed with the shock… rough against her tongue and past her uvula, down her burning esophagus…

"Smile and swallow, like the fat, stinking whore you are."

Smothering, humiliating, haunting, domineering… it was all too much.

She just wanted it all to end now.

Maybe it would be best if she just submitted…

But… just like Eddie said to her… she was strong, capable of anything without having to be the perfect daughter her mother wanted her to be.

She wouldn't let Vecna have her again.

She pinched her eyes shut and used all her might remaining… . .

Chrissy sat up in bed, gasping and trying to breathe properly as her throat throbbed with an unknown pain, like she had ingested something unknown to her… her hand went to massage her neck above her larynx as she looked around the darkened bedroom.

Posters of Metallica, Black Sabbath and other heavy metal rock bands all around the walls.

And Eddie's beloved guitar, the Warlock sat in her line of sight as she felt a rustle of movement at her side.

Her half-awake boyfriend stirred beside her in their bed, groaning and rousing himself aware as he took in the blurry sight of Chrissy alert and rattled as he rubbed his eyes.

Immediately he sensed her uneasiness, reaching to turn on the lamp on the table.

"Chrissy, what is it? What's wrong?" His ringed hands went to her shoulders, tenderly rubbing them as she remained still, staring straight head of her, barely acknowledging he was there.

His hands went to stroking her upper arms, soothing and gentle as he brushed his lips to her temple. He felt her small body shivering under his fingertips and her lip quivered in silent fear as she finally turned to face him.

Shame and dread colored her cheeks as he became more concerned by the second for her wellbeing, knowing all she had endured up to this point in their relationship and beyond.

Chrissy opened her mouth to speak, seeing her reflection in the loving chocolate brown eyes of her Eddie, those eyes of humor and compassion and patience aimed at her every time they were together, even prior to their being a couple.

"Nightmare… Vecna." She uttered, bowing her head to lay against his shoulder, burying her nose into his neck, inhaling the scent of leather and cigarettes and just his natural aura of safety, his long hair forming a curtain around her head.

He didn't need to hear anymore for him to fold his arms around her, holding her close to his bare tattooed chest… many nights, she would lay beside him and trace her fingers along the painted ink of his skin, asking him the significance of each pattern and symbol.

Her hand reflexively went to the guitar pick necklace around her throat, gifted to her by Eddie as it was the very first one he had used during his early days of learning how to play… to show how important she was to him, to give her something so precious.

It was the simple things that made her love him…

Chrissy had no idea why he loved her back, but every time she expressed uncertainty, he would take away her pain with touches and kisses and much more, making her feel on top of the world, invincible in a way no academic achievement or sportsmanship award could…

In their bed, in the quiet of night, Chrissy laid in Eddie's arms, her petite fingers feeling along the contours of his face, their heads sharing the same pillow as they snuggled close.

His eyes were half-open as sleep began to overtake him and she didn't need to hear him speak to know that he would do anything to keep her safe, even from her own mind.

He hadn't fully forgiven himself for not being to save her the first time from Vecna's clutches, the monster preying on her vulnerability.

But, with their friends' help, he had saved her, giving her the confidence to break ties with her awful mother.

Her prince providing her strength to defeat the dragon keeping her locked away in a tower.

Her palm lay upon his chest, feeling the pumping of his heartbeat. The memory of her nightmare slipped away as she admired him, seeing him slowly slip down back into sleep, running her fingers through his dark locks of soft hair.

He possessed a handsome quality to his face as the moonlight danced with shadows along her Edward, much different from the stereotypical high school boys who thought themselves better than everyone else.

His lovely expressive mahogany eyes that she lost herself in every day, his dimpled smile when he would grin so happily that made her heart skip a beat, his full plump lips that tasted so good whenever they kissed her own… his smooth cheeks could have been carved from a Roman marble statue.

A face like his belonged in the descriptions of a Victorian age romance novel… or perhaps a Charles Dickens literary character would be more appropriate…

"I love you, Edward Munson." She whispered with a misty breath, feeling peaceful slumber dragging her down once more, calm and soothing as she was in her hero's arms, hearing him breathe deeply in response to her declaration.

She laid her head against his chest, his voice sleepily humming the familiar tune of Roy Orbison's "Evergreen", a favorite of her own and his Uncle Wayne's.

For when its evergreen…

It will last through the summer and winter too.

When love is evergreen,

Like my love for you…

A song of everlasting devotion that would remain through whatever life would throw at them, supernatural phenomenon or just everyday real-world problems.

No matter what, they had each other.

They were a unit, regardless of society dictating otherwise. Together, they could face anything, even Hell and death.

[utilitycaster]

You've talked a bit before about genre and genre-expectations. If you have the time/inclination, could you talk a bit about what classifies something as horror? More specifically, what makes Candela Obscura fall into the category of horror?

As a bit of background: I am a Travis-level scaredy-cat, but I love the supernatural - ghost stories, monsters, superstitions. I tend to rely a lot on genre labels to help me differentiate, and media labelled "horror" is pretty generally a no go. I starting watching Candela out of curiosity because I'd heard great things about the characters in chapter two, and was fully prepared to have to nope out. Instead I found that it sat comfortably within my "supernatural" bubble of tolerance, and I absolutely loved it! Obviously a person's tolerance for what is "scary" is deeply individualistic, but its got me wondering what exactly classifies something as horror? (and whether there is other media similar to candela that I am missing out on because my genre expectations are skewed)

So...genre boundaries are all very permeable and take a on very "I'll know it when I see it" quality when you get to the edges. There's a poll about horror tolerance going around right now and I actually found it completely unusable because, for example, all three of Jordan Peele's films are considered horror, and while I consider myself also kind of skittish, I loved Get Out and Nope whereas the premise of Us fundamentally is on my personal "absolutely cannot" list. Basically: defining horror is tough (though I'll make an attempt, with the understanding that I am the most amateur and there are actual media studies folks in the fandom who might be a better bet) but also a lot of people, myself included, who consider themselves bad at "horror" often, as you say, actually have a very specific personal list of tolerances and plenty of horror is fine for them (and plenty of non-horror might not be!) Basically this is a great question and multiple people out there are writing their PhD theses attempting to answer it, and they probably have different answers, is what I'm saying. I also, in looking up horror on Wikipedia in order to see what that definition is, found that it defines the genre differently for literature vs. film. Short answer: no one fucking knows; scary shit.

I think horror is most generally works that are intended to build a sense of fear or dread, and I recall (possibly incorrectly) someone on a podcast talking about writing define the difference between a thriller and a horror movie is whether the protagonist succeeds; I'd modify that to say "whether they succeed without a great cost (thriller) or whether the price of success possibly outweighs the win (horror)."

Anyway, I do have a list of horror subgenres here that speaks the language of TTRPGs, namely Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, and I find that horror subgenres are more helpful signposts than just the "horror" label, and I suspect you may find the same as well. I'm not going to run through them all, but, for example, "Ghost Stories" and "Dark Fantasy" are two of them, and those never bothered me and it sounds like you like those! Candela covers a lot of ground - elements of body horror, gothic horror, cosmic/eldritch horror, and occult detective stories, but it is absolutely in the supernatural realm. It is worth noting that a lot of not explicitly horror shows often dip into horror and I (and possibly you) are fine with it. The CR main campaign and D&D in general absolutely has horror elements. I only watched the Nine and Ten seasons of modern-era Doctor Who but that absolutely has episodes that are basically straight up horror (Midnight? Silence in the Library? Don't Blink? Even though, famously, everyone lives in that one set during WWII, the "are you my mummy" line is chilling.) Again: genre/subgenre lines are very permeable and hard to use as signposts.

What has been most helpful to me in finding horror works I can personally enjoy is understanding what I can't do. I don't mind blood and gore but I don't want that to be the point (I don't think I'm so much upset by slasher films so much as don't enjoy them) and I don't want to watch torture porn (which is pretty much exclusively within the realm of horror film, not literature). I have a lot of trouble with zombie films but a lone zombie in a D&D game is fine. The premise of a film like The Thing is intellectually fascinating to me but the idea that you can't trust anyone or anything is too unsettling...although also that was kind of the premise of the monsters of Candela Chapter 2 and I thought that slapped. Psychological horror is case by case; folk horror can be great or can mess me up; like Marisha I flat out don't do narrow tunnels in caves and I especially don't do caves with water in them. Cosmic/Eldritch, dark fantasy, and gothic horror are all almost always okay or if they're not it's because they take place in a water-filled cave. Honestly, I don't have a good answer of how to find things but I use subgenre, talking to people you know who watched the film/saw the show in question, and understanding your own personal issues - whether they're genuine triggers or just "this will upset me and I don't find it fun." I will say a lot of the tropes within horror that bother me bother me out of horror; the cave diving, for example, is part of a general hard line I have; I don't like zombie comedies even though horror-comedy can mitigate other issues (eg: I liked Cocaine Bear even though it's basically a slasher film with a bear because it's pretty funny).

Another really big distinction for me that might be true for you: audio horror, literary horror, and actual play horror (even if filmed), where the visuals are limited or only described, is much easier for me than visual horror. I don't know if that's the same for you, but it's very true for me.

Some other similar media I can personally recommend as someone who I suspect has similar broad preferences re: horror:

Of the Candela touchstones listed, will personally vouch for V. E. Schwab's Darker Shade of Magic series (dark fantasy books, wouldn't even classify as horror), Frankenstein (the book); Crimson Peak (gothic horror/ghost story film; I recall it having a lot of blood but not gore but I saw it in theaters so it's been a while); Penny Dreadful (is it good? debatable. Is it fun? absolutely.)

The New Weird genre is often thrown around and I don't think Candela per se falls into it, but it's certainly the same vibe of horror/fantasy crossovers that don't always fit into one or the other. Anyway: I have brought up the Silt Verses, which is a podcast solidly in that genre which I think I would not enjoy as a film but greatly enjoy as a podcast.

The Southern Reach Trilogy is...not Candela in vibes exactly but I just think everyone should read it, and it is in that weird horror-inflected sf genre space.

Twin Peaks and the X-Files which are very different stories in some ways, but are also investigations of horrors in a world where most people don't believe in that, and Spenser says his cinematic description style is using some of that lexicon, notably from the X-Files' cold opens. (The X-Files is very long and I only watched a few seasons but also while there is an overarching plot, from what I recall it's kind of ridiculous so you can bounce around; Twin Peaks is worth the watch through though I never watched anything after the original series).

I'm not going to lie, I listened to all of Alice Isn't Dead, which was a horror podcast from the Night Vale team, because the actress was so good, but the plot never totally clicked for me, but worth checking out. More worth checking out, while definitely New Weird and not horror, is Within the Wires, which I mentioned before, if you find the concept of Newfaire interesting on a sociocultural level. I am going to make a shitpost about Within the Wires in a second so just look at that. I also never finished Old Gods of Appalachia, but if you liked the Candela playlist Spenser and Rowan put out and are interested in the Bridleborne Mountains region/vibe with folk horror, it was pretty good; I just found it hard to binge, personally, and I listen to so many fucking podcasts it fell by the wayside.

Hope this helps!

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

Just after midnight, Evren decided to raid the refrigerator. Endless thoughts ran uninterrupted through his head from Reogus' visit. Adrian's snoring wasn't helping much either.

"Can you see them? They've come home."

Evren spun around to see his stepdaughter, Adrienne, staring in his direction. Not staring at him per se, it was more like she was staring through him, her eyes focused on something behind him that only she could see.

"Rien, honey, it's past your bedtime," he said quietly. "Every one is in bed. No one is outside, I promise. Your dad and I will keep you safe."

Rien had episodes like this from time to time and while they were unnerving at best and terrifying at worst, they usually passed without incident. Everyone gave Rien her space and she usually calmed down after disappearing for some time to sort out her emotions.

"Why don't you get some warm milk and head back to bed?" Evren suggested. "I could use some myself. Sit down at the table and I'll make some for you."

"Life is being called towards death. There needs to be balance. There needs to be order. I can fix it, I know I can."

Evren nodded as he poured the milk into a glass.

"I'm sure you can, but it's past your bedtime. It will have to wait for tomorrow. Here's your milk. Do you want me to stay up with you?"

Adrienne shook her head and took a seat at the table.

"No, I'm okay. I can drink my milk alone. I'm almost a teenager, after all."

Evren nodded. This wasn't the first time he'd caught Adrienne up in the middle of the night spouting phrases straight out of a horror film. It certainly wouldn't be the last either. All of her parents agreed that the behavior was concerning, but harmless. It wasn't like she was sneaking off in the middle of the night, chasing danger like Theo might.

"Straight to bed when you're finished," Evren ordered. "Goodnight, Rien. Your father and I both love you very much. We're always here when you need us."

Adrienne nodded quickly, making a show of sipping her drink.

"Goodnight."

Leo Toyonaga surveyed the house before him cautiously. As Lukas was fond of reminding him, Leo, his father, and his first born child, Varia, all were destined to serve the deity of life and preserve the order of the universe. Much like the reapers obeyed the Grim Reaper, who served Death, Leo came from a long line of guardians genetically called to protect the living. It was a thankless calling that didn't pay well and involved incredible danger, all to serve a deity who wasn't a fan of showing support or sharing attention.

Leo honestly didn't mind being called to such a dangerous duty. It was what he was born for, to help people and protect those he loved. His own father, Vrai, tried his best to pass his share of that sacred duty to his son. Vrai had nearly died serving Life and had to abdicate his Strangetown throne in order to continue serving. Lukas had taken and taken from him over the years, and now Vrai considered himself retired. That was one of the perks of dating the Grim Reaper. Gee could usually get his stepparent to leave Vrai alone, no matter how much Lukas whined.

But tonight, Leo needed a second pair of eyes. He could feel something wrong somewhere in Twikkii Island. A storm was brewing and it was driving Leo crazy. The past few days had been filled with migraines, visions that he suspected were prophetic, and a general feeling of uneasiness. If he wanted it all to stop, he would need to resolve the problem. He was certain that his father still felt the call to Twikkii Island like he did, despite denying it. Life's guardians were called to serve for life, despite Vrai's "retirement".

"Are you sure it's this street?" Vrai asked, scanning the street for signs of supernatural involvement. "It looks pretty calm."

Leo rolled his eyes.

"You can feel it, same as me. Of course it's here."

"Maybe it's a trick Lukas is playing on us. Some kind of performance evaluation. For this pull to be so strong...it has to be a test."

"It's not a test, my grandparents are just returning home."

Both men were startled by a preteen standing on the stairs, staring intently at them. Beside her, two spirits floated around the yard.

"Holy shit," Leo gasped, stunned by the scene before him. "Ghosts? Actual ghosts? Where are the reapers? Who's supposed to be watching for this?"

"Me, I guess. Life has been called towards death, and I can help you find the balance."

The girl watched them with curiosity. She was younger than Leo's oldest daughter, but not by much. She was maybe twelve at most.

"Just wait a minute, I have to get my coat."

The preteen slipped away for a moment, leaving the adults baffled at what to do next.

"We need to do something," Leo declared, staring at his father for ideas. "Should you call Gee? Let him know that ghosts have been seen in the living world?"

Vrai frowned.

"This isn't the first time spirits have been sighted. It's been happening everywhere. Gee has been trying to find the cause for a while now. The last thing he needs is for his father to find out."

"We can't command the dead!" Leo hissed. "He's going to have to call a reaper here to clean this up. This shouldn't be happening, Dad. If Gee can't fix this, maybe he shouldn't be the Grim Reaper."

"Try to control them," Vrai urged, suddenly interested in doing his job. "I'll help, but it's been a while. You'll need to start and I'll jump in when I can."

Leo grit his teeth, but nodded his agreement. It was nice to have his father on his side, even if it was only to protect his partner. Leo reached within himself, searching for any possible ability he possessed that could fix this problem.

Energy. Everything in the universe could be broken down into energy. Every single bit of energy all flowed through the Ocean, tying it all together. Leo could feel the life on the air around him. Plants, insects, and animals- they all answered his call without problem. The two spirits were completely unmoved.

"Let me help."

Vrai extended his hand, hoping that teamwork would somehow bridge the gap between life and death.

It was no use. Whatever limited contact they could make with the spirits was failing. Not only that, but both men were quickly losing control of the energy they could command. Leo's hands were burning as the absence of life in the spirits overpowered the living energy he was trying to command them with.

"I can't keep this up," he grunted. Beside him, Vrai looked equally overwhelmed. "Not even Lukas could pull this off, it's not our jurisdiction. You need to call Gee. If not him, then at least the head reaper of Twikkii Island. Someone qualified needs to fix this."

"I got my coat!"

The preteen's happy chirp interrupted the two Toyonaga's panicked discussion. Adrienne dropped dramatically to the ground, perfectly poised to take command of the situation.

"Dad says not to go out at night without a coat. The ocean makes everything colder at night. My name's Rien, by the way. Those are my grandparents floating around. They're just lost and confused; it's not their fault."

"Grandma! Grandpa! You have to listen to me. You're not supposed to be here. You need to rejoin the spirits."

Adrienne began to levitate, summoning energy that appeared to redirect the aimless floating of the spirits. While Leo watched in awe at her effortless control of the spirits of her grandparents, he couldn't help but notice the smooth horns that had appeared on her head while she did so. It wasn't a true dark form, at least as far as Leo understood the concept. Besides, weren't demons loosely connected with life, not death? What was happening to the world that he thought he'd understood? Ghosts were everywhere, demons were commanding the dead...what could possibly be next? Did Lukas know about this? Did Death?

"Go in peace, Grandpa. Dad and Luci will carry your legacy until you meet again. The Siew family still stands together, just like you always told Dad. You can let go. We'll be fine."

With her words, the spirit shimmered slightly before dissolving completely before the mesmerized Toyonagas' eyes. Both ghosts were gone, no effort required on their part.

"It was nice meeting you," Adrienne said, with all the proper manners expected of a young noble lady of Twikkii Island. "I should probably go back to bed now that the spirits are at rest."

"What-what did you just do? Demonic magic can't-"

"I'm a Bellamy," the girl stated, as if it should be obvious. "There's lots that I can do that most demons can't. My brother's not the only one who can get things done."

"Your brother?" Vrai asked. Already, this little excursion of theirs had turned from casual to mysterious and troubling. He didn't really need to add demon drama to it if he didn't have to.

"Theodosius," Leo supplied, looking at the sister of such a being warily. Everyone had heard of the little demon hybrid in his circles. His kids played with Theo at the Siew cottage and occasionally had lessons together at school. Theo was quickly becoming a project of Lukas', which was never a good thing, no matter who you were. Theo had been cursed to create his powers, while this girl didn't show any sign of a curse. She simply...was. Leo wasn't sure if that was better or worse for him. Curses were indeed powerful, but Theo was at least trying to control his. There was no controlling the natural gifts of this girl by any method Leo knew about. Clearly, this Bellamy family warranted keeping an eye on.

"Yeah, my brother's Theo," Adrienne confirmed, still cheerful despite having just seen the ghosts of her grandparents float across her yard. "He's away at school right now. I miss him."

Leo smiled politely.

"I'll bet. Well, thank you for your help, Rien. We couldn't have done it without you."

The two men looked at each other, beyond ready to leave this place. Leo had a mountain of paperwork to try to explain what had happened, which would hopefully escalate the issue of wandering spirits past the level of regular reapers. If this was happening everywhere, something had to be wrong, and Leo didn't share his father's optimism about Gee's ability to handle the situation.

"It was nice meeting you," Adrienne replied. "I'll be sure to let Lukas know how helpful you've been next time I see them. Things seem to be getting worse lately, but my brother's coming home soon. Maybe he could help a little, but by then, it will already be too late. See ya!"

The girl spun around and bolted up the stairs to her home, leaving the two men baffled.

"Be too late for what?!"

[neon-green-reagent]

50 Underrated Horror Films: Part 4

What in absolute hell. We made it to part 4? Well, here we go then! Oh, also, links to the other parts: One : Two : Three

Undead : Starting off with an absolute banger. This is an Australian zombie apocalypse film. If you're familiar with Ozploitation cinema, then you know how nutso it can get, and this is a perfect example of just that. The action sequences are wild crowd pleasers, and the plot twists until it nearly breaks off.

Werewolf in a Girl's Dormitory : I realize that sounds like porn. Just stay with me. It's a giallo! With a werewolf! For me, this was like finding the holy grail. Best of both worlds, truly. With... not the best looking werewolf, but this is an older movie, so cut it a little slack. It turns into a fun mystery with that special Italian flavor to it.

The Outwaters : Everyone was talking about Skinamarink. No one was talking about this. It has a similar conceit. To make a horror film that defies the idea of plot. It starts like your average found footage, then becomes a drug trip straight to the depths. It really does feel like witnessing a cosmic horror story where the horrors are, indeed, impossible to describe.

Tomie : This is the first of me cheating and actually recommending way more than one film. The Tomie film franchise is a series of loose adaptations of Junji Ito's manga of the same name, and there are nine at the moment. They get wild and weird, and they explore parts of Tomie that even the manga doesn't cover. Female monster! You need these in your life.

Murdercise : Low budget silliness trying to be throwback 80s and mostly just being hilarious and noticeably cheap. I love that. It's stupid and seems like the kind of movie that was a blast to make. I definitely felt like I was laughing with them and not at them, which made it feel really charming. A great one for a dumb movie night.

Zombie Death House : Zombies in jail! Directed by John Saxon who strangely didn't case himself in the lead like some vanity project. Rather he plays a character I have dubbed "Colonel Herbert West" if that sounds at all appealing. I mean, it clearly was to me.

Dead Birds : There aren't a ton of horror films that crossover with westerns, so this is a rare gem. A bunch of outlaws take refuge in a deeply disturbed location, and things get super dark.

Satan's Princess : A neo-noir detective story with supernatural evil at its core. Imagine if Angel Heart was dumber and way cheaper looking. With Robert Forster giving a really fun performance and an ending that had me laughing out loud.

Werewolf Bitches from Outer Space : Do you love Troma movies? Do you wish they were worse? Do I have the film for you! With scenes that were clearly filmed without permits. Random bystanders interfering with the production. Terrible werewolf masks. And pizza sex? It's a laugh riot.

Butterfly Kisses : A genuinely upsetting found footage movie that understands exactly how to use the urban legend format. There's a beastie out there that, if you stare at it, it will imprint on you like a baby duck. Then if you blink, it gets a little closer. Try to imagine how long you can go without blinking.

To Die For : Wanna watch a really shitty, late 80s Dracula? Here you go! It's dumber than a box of rocks. No one's motivations make any sense. Dracula seems like kind of a jerk despite being a romantic figure. But most of the actors are hotties and know the silly movie they're in, so it comes out fun in the end. Oh, and no one can agree when it came out. But rest assured I don't mean the one with Nicole Kidman.

Home for the Holidays : Made for TV Christmas slasher! Starring Sally Field. With a whole lot of family drama, which makes it feel authentically connected to the holiday. Merry Christmas! It's March. Ahem.

Welcome to Hell : Heavy metal horror strikes again. This time, a black metal band impregnates and kidnaps a groupie for their dark ritual. She escapes, but they're hot on her trail. The ending is nothing short of a religious experience. WINK.

Isolation : If Alien took place on a farm. With mutant cow fetuses. I swear, there is science that makes some sense of that. And it's not a comedy, I swear! It's actually very nasty with some wonderful body horror.

Dr. Crippen : Based on a real crime of passion and clearly cashing in on the Psycho craze. It's a strange one to recommend, because it's based on a true event, and the movie leans pretty hard in the bad doctor's favor. But it's worth it if you're a fan of Donald Pleasence. He gets to be his strange, little self and also be the star for once.

Tamara : What a mid-2000s romp this is. A good girl gets treated like garbage and goes bad in a witchy-demon-spell kinda way. Jenna Dewan as Tamara is perfect in every way. Gives me the gay.

Dark Harvest : Don't be like "oh, I've heard of that, didn't that just come out last year?" Yep, and everyone ignored it. When it was pretty fucking great. Set in a cursed town that openly sacrifices their kids to a fantastic monster by the name of Sawtooth Jack. His head is full of candy. Like. Go watch it.

Night Screams : Regional 80s slasher where a guy dies getting his face grilled. I'm pretty sure that shouldn't have killed him. And there are like three killers by the end? Did it before Scream, just saying. Enjoy the vibes on this one.

The Third Saturday in October Part Five and Part One : Speaking of slashers. These low budget gems came out last year, and there was a cute, little gimmick to it. You're supposed to watch five, then one. It simulates growing up pre-internet. You walk into the video store, and all they have is part five. You decide to rent it, even though you've never seen the first one. Then a week later, you find one. This really worked for me. Gave me nostalgic feelings. Please, if you watch them, try it this way.

The Vampire Doll : What if Japan made a Hammer film? Well, here it is. With one of my favorite tropes: a super cute couple investigates the horrors!

Night Feeder : Genuinely the best shot-on-video horror film I've ever seen. It actually fooled me. I thought I was watching a bad VHS rip, but no, this was not shot on film. It's stylish, clearly better than you'd expect, weird, dark, and has a really bad rock band in it.

Older Gods : Low budget and full of heart and also Lovecraftian horrors. If you're reading this and care, to me it felt as if someone wrote an original story around Azathoth. Which is cool, because no one ever uses him in anything. Also, if you're like, "so what does that mean?" It means that reality is up for debate in this one.

Cheerleader Camp : One of those that people clamor for when you talk about movies that still need a proper physical media release. I see why. It's extremely fun with its tongue lodged in its cheek. It uses every slasher trope and laughs hysterically while doing so.

Below : I love my underwater horror, and this delivers wonderfully. Haunted submarine, dude. But honestly, that wasn't the scariest part. The plot was cool, and I enjoyed the mystery, yeah yeah. But more to the point, everything that can go wrong... does. Imagine being trapped at the bottom of the ocean in a giant, metal coffin. BRR!

The Werewolf and the Yeti : How many werewolf movies are on this list? Uh, shut up. As I was saying, this is great. Paul Naschy brings a massively enjoyable werewolf flick our way again. With all his swashbuckling charm. By the time the yeti shows up, so much awesome shit had happened that I forgot he was supposed to fight a yeti. I mean...

Subspecies : And how many vampire movies are on this list? SHUT UP I SAID. Anyway. Another where I mean the whole series. All of them. Radu, the main villain, is a joy. Michelle's story arc is super dramatic and full of that Interview with the Vampire angst. Special mention to the second film, which goes all out with the gore effects.

The Hills Run Red : A horror movie about horror movies. A lost film has gained a cult following, and a bunch of dumb college kids decide to track it down. You can guess how that goes. William Sadler steals the entire movie when he shows up. Babyface also has iconic slasher energy.

Abby : This one's underrated because the filmmakers got sued by the guys that made The Exorcist and lost. This is essentially the black version of The Exorcist, and it's so good that I'm depressed we'll never get a great release of it. Carol Speed is amazing as Abby. William Marshall, Blacula himself, is in it. Track this down and get mad about it with me.

The Appointment : What the hell is this. Even I'm not sure. Edward Woodward crashes his car. I mean, I don't know what else to say about it. The film ramps up the tension and dread until a ridiculously Rube Goldberg thing happens, and you have to experience it.

Frostbiter : Another of those movies made with ten cents and a lot of gumption. A bunch of people wanted to make Evil Dead II, and so they did that. They even put an Evil Dead II poster in the cabin they filmed in, so that you wouldn't even wonder about what inspired it. Also, special mention to the chili song.

Hell's Highway : Have you ever seen a movie that was really cheap and goofy, but you could see EXACTLY how it would've looked if they'd just had the money? This is that movie. Every special effect fails. Everything's so awkward and odd. But you can tell what they MEANT for it to be. So bad it's good and then some.

Dance of the Damned : Vampire. Sorry. So this one is about a vampire who wishes he could stop living eternally, because it sucks to live that long and be so alone. He finds a sex worker who is also feeling like she wishes things would just end, and they share their pain with each other. Way better than it has any right to be, mullet and all.

The Werewolf of Washington : Werewolf. I really am sorry. Dean Stockwell plays a truly adorable werewolf. And nothing about it is meant to be taken seriously at all. Gives An American Werewolf in London a run for its money in the goober department.

The Curse of Kazuo Umezu : From the man who brought you The Drifting Classroom comes... this! It's a pair of strange tales. One about a vampire, fuck, I'm sorry. And one about a haunted house that even the narrator can't figure out what's going on. Horror anime!

Lo : A young man has recently lost his love. She was dragged to hell. That old chestnut. So he summons a demon named Lo to try to get her back. With a twist that'll make you go, wait, I thought this was a comedy?

The Spider Labyrinth : This one recently got a really nice release, and I'm so glad, because it's bonkers. A young fella is sent to Budapest to find a lost professor. Instead he finds a cult. Uh oh.

End of the Line : Apocalypse horror that turns your brain inside out just a bit. A religious cult has decided it's the end of the world, and they start executing innocents so they'll "go to heaven." Are they brainwashed or is the world actually ending? You decide!

Off Balance AKA Phantom of Death : Just barely a Phantom of the Opera riff. A pianist discovers he has a rare genetic disorder that threatens to cut his career short. Also, he's kinda losing it. Starring Michael York, Donald Pleasence, Edwige Fenech, directed by Ruggero Deodato, oh my GOD!

The Lure : Killer mermaids. Well, sirens. Kind of a mix. It's also a musical. And about how awful the entertainment industry is for young women. It's also super gory, and they eat people. Truly little else out there is like this.

Redneck Zombies : What do you want me to say? It's a Troma film. It's called... that. I'm pointing. I'm pointing at the title. That's the movie. Just... Right? Yeah?

The Killer Reserved Nine Seats : Another of those gialli that is really just And Then There Were None. But the nice part is that Italy likes to get more sexual, violent, and fucking awful than Agatha Christie ever dreamed. This one also takes place in an old theater, so the vibes are choice.

Mary Reilly : I always include at least one entry in these lists that begs the question, "how did this become underrated?" And obscure, that too. When it's a Jekyll and Hyde retelling with an emphasis on the gothic and lush, starring Julia Roberts and John Malkovich? By the way, I heard people hated it because of Roberts' terrible Irish accent. Damn, dude, I've heard way worse, fake accents than that. Anyway, this is fantastic. Watch it.

The Forest : One of those slashers where I thought I understood what I was getting into, but I did not. There's a man living in the woods who went postal on his cheating wife one day. The ghosts of his family are also haunting the woods. And he's a cannibal who feeds a guy his own girlfriend. I need other people to watch this so that I can be assured it was real.

Autopsy (2008) : I put a year, because there are around 800 horror films with that title. To further narrow it down, it's the one where Robert Patrick plays basically Herbert West fused with Mr. Freeze, and Jenette Goldstein is his nurse, and they chase a bunch of college kids around for science. Kind of a pitch black comedy with torture porn aspects, and I loved it.

Glorious : A guy gets trapped in a public restroom, which is horrifying enough. Then a cosmic horror god starts talking to him from a bathroom stall. He gives him the assignment of helping to stop the end of the world. The god is J.K. Simmons, and the whole thing is a delightful bottle movie.

Nightmare Detective : From the director that brought you Tetsuo: The Iron Man... Do I have your attention? Comes the Japanese Nightmare on Elm Street! That's oversimplifying, but that is my elevator pitch. It involves all sorts of dream powers and psychic battles that will blow your socks off.

House of Lost Souls : Directed by Umberto Lenzi, which means it feels as doobery as Ghosthouse. It's about a hotel desperate to decapitate you, and it has the silliest dialogue and acting known to man. Special mention to psychic powers being cited as a "rational explanation."

The Cleansing Hour : A priest who livestreams fake exorcisms has to rumble with a real demon. Super fun character piece where a conman has to look his sins dead in the eye. Truly obsessed with this one. Also, super fun demon effects. With Kyle Gallner, everyone's favorite scream king.

Deathrow Gameshow : What if Airplane was super violent? Or The Running Man was a dumb comedy? This hits the sweetest spot, where the humor is idiotic and the violence is cartoonishly nasty. This will speak to the sort of person, like myself, who wants their comedy to be indigestible for most audience goers.

Double Blind : This is a very recent release. A diverse group take part in a double blind drug test. Things go so extremely bad. I won't give anything away, because part of the fun is the unfolding chaos.

I can't believe I managed to do that again. Enjoy! I hope you find some new favorites from this list.

[themosleyreview]

The Mosley Review: When Evil Lurks

I tend to have a high tolerance and high expectation for horror films. When it comes to films about demonic possession, they're constantly all about how religion factors in or the standard set by the original The Exorcist with all the head spinning, levitating and gross out body horror tropes we've all come to know. Evil Dead Rise earlier this year was fantastic, but that is more of the extreme and fantastical nature. The last great grounded possession film I've seen was The Last Exorcism of Emily Rose and maybe The Last Exorcism. Both had their flaws, but delivered an engaging story and creepy visuals. What makes a great supernatural film is the ability to deliver a tension filled story that is not only compelling, but unpredictable. You have to really go places where most wouldn't dare and remove the common safe guards in place for certain characters. It has been a very long time since such a film has existed and has left me in a state of shock. What I really enjoyed about this film was that it was straight forward and gives you the right amount of lore and exposition that keeps you on edge. The sense of dread and tension is so thick throughout the film and I loved every second of it. Sure, there are moments of terror you could see coming, but you're still shocked once it happens and the sheer brutality of it was insane. Like any horror film, there are illogical character moments that are frustrating, but in this case it serves the story and highlights the flaws of the characters. That's how it should be done and I'm glad this film excels where almost all fail.

Ezequiel Rodriguez was excellent and endearing as Pedro. I loved his steadfast decision making, but man did he seriously put everyone in danger when it wasn't necessary at times. I did love that he was the most capable and smartest characters in the film as he saw what was coming when nobody would believe him. Demián Salomon was also excellent as his loyal and somewhat softer brother Jimmy. I loved their chemistry and even though they were on edge for the majority, I was happy to follow them both through this nightmare. Jimmy was one of the major catalysts in the most clever way that if you weren't paying attention, you'd miss why. Paula Rubinsztein was awesome and probably the only kind soul in the film as their mother. She delivers the ultimate lore dump and setting up the rules when dealing with a possessed or as referred to in the film as "The Rotten", and man it was so fun and creepy. Silvia Sabater was awesome as a Cleaner or the film's version of an exorcist. Her scenes were so intriguing and she adds that perfect level of strength in her faith herself and wisdom.

The film is well shot and what I loved is that there isn't any major visual trickery or CGI that tries to add to the look of despair. The make-up effects were top notch and equally grotesque in the best way possible. The physical horror was amazing and creepy in execution when it came to a scene involving Pedro's family. Like I said before, the tension in this film is thick and it never really lets up as the story continues to drag you through the hellish nightmare Pedro and Jimmy go through. I can't stress enough how this film goes for the unexpected and how unrelenting the violence is. This film has definitely raised the bar on how to deliver a perfectly paced demonic possession story that has thematic elements about grief, family and how it touches on faith, but it doesn't overtake the nonstop terror. This will hands down be the best horror film I have seen for the remainder of 2023. It is currently in theatres for a limited time and it will soon come to the horror streaming service Shudder. I highly recommend it for this spooky season for the curious, but it is NOT for the faint of heart. Let me know what you thought of the film or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

[grelleswife]

Hey this is maybe a strange request but I was wondering if you had any good anime recommendations ?

I've been watching JJK and I've been left feeling a bit disappointed with the writing (it feels kinda all of the place and it feels like characters are dying just for the sake of dying)

So I'm kinda looking for something with darker themes and also maybe with supernatural elements, but that gives all the characters good arcs and development and also maybe is a bit on the happier side?

But honestly anything will do I'm just looking for some new stuff

I've been thinking of watching Vanitas no Carte so that one's already on my list

Hi, anon! I understand your frustration; the despair of the Shibiya arc had become rather gratuitous by the end of Season 2. :/

VnC was one of the first shows that came to mind while I was reading your ask, so you’re already ahead of the curve! Content warnings I recall off the top of my head include child death, nonconsensual blood drinking (which carries certain unpleasant implications in vampire media), use of children for scientific experimentation, and unsavory dynamics (aka the man repeatedly disregarding the woman’s boundaries) in the canon m/f pairing. However, the quality of the story and its unmistakable queerness still make Vanitas no Carte a worthwhile watch, in my opinion. And the manga is even better!

Some other recommendations I can think of, albeit with varying ratios of darkness to good character development and happy moments, are listed below. Please note that content warnings provided are based off my hazy recollections and thus are not comprehensive.

Mushishi

Though existing beyond the realm of human perception, the diverse array of primitive lifeforms known as mushi can warp their surroundings—and the people inhabiting them—in bizarre, sometimes frightening ways. As a mushishi, Ginko is one of the rare few who can see and interact with these creatures, and travels Japan lending assistance to those struggling to coexist with the mushi. Suffused with a quiet melancholy, this anime is perfect to watch on a rainy day with a cup of tea in hand.

Content warnings: Body horror

Mononoke

Nope, not the Studio Ghibli film that gave birth to the classic “I’ll cut your throat” ship meme. This 2007 anime follows the enigmatic and possibly immortal Kusuriuri (medicine seller) as he helps people impacted by mononoke, malevolent spirits that latch onto negative emotions. However, he can only dispel these spirits by uncovering their true nature and the reason for the appearance, forcing him to play detective along the way. Though a spiritual cousin of sorts to Mushishi, the two shows vary radically in style: Whereas Mushishi’s color palettes tend to be earthy and subdued, Monoke’s animation pushes the envelope with a dizzying, gaudy spectacle that could have come straight out of a drug-induced nightmare.

Content warnings: Violence (including violence against women), discussions of forced abortion, body horror, a highly questionable relationship between a monk and his sister, eyestrain (the colors are gorgeous but can be a bit overwhelming at times)

Otherside Picnic

College students Sorawo Kamikoshi and Toriko Nishina team up to periodically explore the Otherside, a parallel universe where urban legends pose all-too-real threats, growing closer over the course of their adventures. Fans of the light novels on which this 12-episode anime is based have criticized the differences in tone between the adaptation and the source material, complaining that the anime tends to come across as a bit goofier. However, as someone who went into the series blind, I had a fun time! Otherside Picnic also numbers among the rare examples of sapphic anime with adult protagonists, although most of Sorawo’s and Toriko’s relationship is relegated to slow-burn due to the short run time. Their black cat/golden retriever dynamic is still a joy to behold!

Content warnings: Occasional gun violence, body horror

Death Parade

The souls of the recently deceased are pitted against eachother in nerve-wracking games meant to uncover the darkest corners of their psyches so that beings known as arbiters may pass judgement on their fate—reincarnation, or eternity in the void. Alongside his assistant, Chiyuki, the arbiter Decim begins to gain greater insight into humanity while starting to question the very role for which he was created. This underrated gem will probably reduce you to a puddle of tears at least once, so have a box of tissues ready.

Content warnings: Violence, assault, suicide, depictions of alcohol use (much of the action takes place at an otherworldly bar)

Noragami

Hiyori Iki’s ordinary middle school life is turned upside down when a bus accident weakens the link between her body and soul, enabling her to perceive the gods and spirits in our midst…including Yato, a brash yet destitute young god without a single shrine to his name. How will their fates intertwine? Written along a similar vein to Fruits Basket and Kamisama Kiss, Noragami charms the viewer with its sillier shenanigans while ripping your heartstrings to shreds during the darker moments. Although the manga (at least what I’ve read of it) is superior, and the anime only adapts a handful of the original arcs, it still holds its own. And the OPs are excellent! 👌

Content warnings: Body horror, child death, suicide

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

In The Deep Woods [Chapter One] Propensity [Mello/Mihael Keehl]

Summary: Eliana Moore, an anxious forensic photographer with an eye for details, catches the attention of the third L who sends her to a rural mountain town in Tennessee to investigate a series of unexplained disappearances. Together with Mello, an unconventional detective, and his companion Matt, the three must uncover what dark secrets the town of Misty Pines hides, including what might be lurking in the nearby woods.

Warning(s): AU, supernatural elements, forensics, murder, cryptid, OC, anxiety attacks, slight gore.

No Minors Allowed!!

This was the part of her job that Eliana Moore hated the most; the part where her anxiety threatened to impair her. Murder was, to her dismay, ubiquitous. She could not control the propensity for violence in humans, just as she could not control her fear when thrown into a situation that triggered it. The former, she could at least do something about. That was why, even though she was on the verge of tears, she pressed on. After all, she agreed to take on the job, didn't she?

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Gianna Barella asked, raising a curious brow.

She was the lead photographer within the department, a woman well in her mid-forties. While she was hopeful to pass the torch onto Eliana this time, she was also uncertain. The call came in at noon, a body had been found inside the laundry room of a residential apartment building in the heart of "the Big Apple." There was not much else the team knew, but Gianna unfortunately was on her way to another crime scene and Eliana was the first eager face she had come across.

"Of course, I don't mind," Eliana retorted.

It did not take a genius to know that Eliana had an issue with tight spaces; the entire team could see how uncomfortable she was with them. Her trauma was not overlooked, but it was the reason she was snubbed by some of her peers. 

The look on Gianna's face slightly irritated her; she felt pitied by her superior. 

"I've got this."

Eliana left the department shortly after. It took her fifteen minutes to drive into the city and find a place to park that was close enough to the scene. Law enforcement stationed outside gave her no problems, letting her cross the barrier once she presented her laminated badge to them; she was one of the last of the team to arrive. Even the coroner was already there, waiting. 

After she redressed in a pair of white Tyvek coveralls, she followed an officer whose name tag read ‘T. Philips’ into the building; a key card was the only way to open the doors; each was locked at all times with a door lock that used RFID (radio frequency identification) technology, he explained. If she left the building at any time, she would have to find him to let her back in. He only spoke once more to her, to show her where the basement was. Eliana was on her own after that. She took a set of narrow stairs down into a shoebox of a room that in her opinion was straight out of a horror movie. It gave her a bad vibe. The overabundance of investigators only made matters worse. Why were there still so many people? The team should have almost been done. 

Eliana waited for a moment by the stairs for them to finish, but she was starting to feel uneasy. It was hot for some reason. She tapped her foot to distract herself, but the stagnant air was starting to suffocate her. As much as she tried to ignore it, the sensations brought back the memory of something she wished that never happened; the onset of her fear. It was all coming back to her, replaying like a film reel in her head; the fear of death and the sound of her panicked screams. Her heart started to race and she realized that she might have a panic attack. She had to quickly step away.

–

It was on her, Eliana admitted. She said yes to Gianna when she knew there was a possibility this would happen. But it was fine, she would be fine. She just needed a moment alone. 

Her warm sweet-scented breath, due to the dust mask she wore, wafted against her face as she took a series of deep breaths. Eliana was embarrassed for having to tuck tail and run, hiding at the end of the hall near the stairs, and while no one batted an eye, she was certain that they would talk; they always did. 

One half-assed pep talk later, she was as ready as she was ever going to be.

As she walked down into the basement again, Eliana was relieved to see that a few of the team had left. It was time to get to work. She clutched her Digital SLR against her chest and recalled the 3-3-3 rule that her therapist taught her. It was not necessarily meant to be used to do her job, but it helped her focus.

At a glance, what do you see?

Eliana carefully scanned the scene, noting how cluttered the laundry room was; a jumble of empty detergent dispensers and wads of lint were strewn about as though whoever left them there expected someone else to clean up after them. It was as one would expect the basement of a cheap residential apartment building to look.

At least there ain't any fuzzy creatures from outer space wanderin' about.

Just her team. Investigators in matching coveralls walked the grid. It was not required, since the crime scene was small, but there was a lot that could be overlooked, especially amongst the cobweb-covered boxes and rusted tools that added to the mess. It was a hoarder's paradise, and if not for the pungent scent that filled the stagnant air, the polyester suitcase, the one hiding the dismembered body that the police had yet to identify, would not have been found.

The deceased was discovered, to her knowledge, by a young man. She did not know much about him aside from the fact he had come down to find out what the overwhelming smell was that had come up through the vents into his mother's apartment. That led Eliana to the next detail. What did she smell?

Death was apparent, but based on the scent alone, she was able to determine how long the deceased had been dead. It was not pleasant, sometime after the decay phase. The fluids in the body after death are released through the orifices, a nasty process. In this case, the fluids had leaked from the suitcase and stained the concrete floor a dark greenish-brown; she could see it from the stairs where she stood. It was a cocktail of rotting flesh that she could not mistake for anything else.

Among that, however, she could smell the musty scent of mildew and something that was out of place; sharp and minty like peppermint. It was odd and a bit unexpected. Eliana ignored it for now and moved on to the next step. Movement. 

Her footsteps, muffled by the booties she wore, were slow and deliberate as she walked the grid; one step at a time. Eliana approached the first number tag, marking the evidence that was found, and raised her camera to snap a picture. She had to bend to one knee to get a better angle the second time, due to her boss, Henry Conners walking into the frame. He was the crime scene leader, a man who was as strict as he was full of himself.

"You took your time getting here. The coroner is pressing me about collecting the body," he mentioned.

Eliana frowned behind her mask. She had no excuse other than how uncomfortable she felt in such a cramped room. Redirecting was her only choice to avoid being scolded. 

"Are these the only scuff marks found?"

"Yeah, which is odd considering who we are dealing with," Henry answered.

Eliana raised a curious brow. She did not expect the person they were dealing with to be a seasoned killer. 

“Who?”

Henry's eyes narrowed in elation, an action that made Eliana feel uneasy. 

“The Artist.”

A few things came to light at that moment. The reason there were so many investigators in the room was because ‘the Artist’ or as the media coined them, ‘the KDD (Kill. Dismember. Display) Killer’, was elusive. They hardly ever left evidence at a scene and when they did, there was nothing much to go on. Her team ran through each of the crime scenes with a fine tooth comb but to no avail. Then there was the scent.

It was peppermint oil. 

‘The Artist’ used it on the bodies. No one knew exactly why, but theories were that it masked the scent of decay to an extent. Each of the victims, both men and women typically between the ages of twenty-five and forty had traces of the liquid on them when they were displayed to the public; a macabre form of art. There were similarities, but some of the details made no sense to Eliana. 

“Why here though? This isn't their–”

Before she finished the sentence, her eyes widened in realization. There could only be one explanation. In the half year that ‘the Artist’ operated, they had never made a mistake. Until now. 

“They were in a hurry and got sloppy,” Eliana uttered. 

Henry shook his head. 

“Which leads me to believe that whoever is in that suitcase is a tenant in this building.”

She had the same thought. How else would the killer be able to gain access to the building? It required a key. But did that mean he was forced to kill them in the building? An air of excitement washed over her. This could be it. What sort of evidence did ‘the Artist’ leave behind for them?

Eliana stood with a grunt and strode past Henry to the next numbered tag. He followed, spouting off his theories, but she ignored him. Without the rest of the evidence, she could not paint an accurate enough picture of the crime scene. What it came down to was identifying the deceased, then she was hopeful that new leads would surface.

Bending to her knee near the final evidence tag before the body, Eliana snapped a series of pictures. The scent of peppermint oil was strong, making her nose itch. She sneezed, a cute ‘choo’ that made her eyes water and her cheeks burn in embarrassment. As she stood and approached the body, she vulgarly sniffed in the snot that began to seep from her nose, unintentionally taking in the pungent scent permeating the air. It made her stomach churn, but something was odd about it. The peppermint oil was not quite as strong near the body as it was away from it. 

Eliana narrowed her eyes in question, then backtracked, earning a look from Henry. 

“What are you doing?” 

She did not answer him, leaning down to take in another sniff. It was just as she thought, the minty scent was stronger near the third tag; the colored glass.

“Any idea what sort of glass this is?” Eliana asked. 

“No idea,” Henry answered. “Could be a multitude of things, but there's just not much of it to say at a glance.” 

She frowned. He was right. Forensics would be able to identify it. Leaning down as if she were about to press her nose to the floor, she took a 3rd sniff.

“It smells like peppermint oil.” 

Could the shards have been from the bottle the oil was in? Eliana sat up and looked around the tag. There was no sign of it, unfortunately. To her right was a blank open space, and to her left there were four machines shoved against the furthest wall; two washers and two dryers, cheap and old; one of them even had a handwritten note taped to it that claimed it was ‘out of order’.

I wonder.

“Do you have a light?” Eliana asked, directing her question to Henry.

He called over an investigator with an aluminum case, Sally was her name. She handed Eliana a slim pocket flashlight, then the latter turned it on and directed the beam under the broken dryer. At first, she did not see anything of importance, but then the light caught the glare of an amber-colored bottle and her heart began to race. 

“There's somethin’ under here.”

It took two investigators to move the dryer out, but what was collected made it worth the effort; a broken glass bottle of peppermint oil with a dropper attached to the lid. She knew not to get her hopes up, but Eliana could not contain her smile.

–

“At noon today, the New York Police Department, headed by Officer Kenneth Woodrow, arrested thirty-five-year-old Joseph Carter, the man seen here, for the gruesome murders of–”

“Look at him,” Gianna Berella interrupted. “He looks so…normal.” 

Eliana agreed. She stared at the screen of the TV in the breakroom as reporters escorted ‘The Artist’ in handcuffs to a police cruiser outside his studio apartment. He was, in all manner of the word, normal. There was absolutely nothing odd about him aside from the self-centered disposition he displayed while in custody. 

Carter was a Caucasian man with dark hair, wearing square-shaped frames over his dull eyes. He stared at the cameras as he passed, smiling and nodding his head as though he had just been awarded ‘the National Medal of Arts’. It was nauseating.

“Why do you suppose a guy like that decides to just wake up one day and kill people?” Gianna asked. 

Eliana had no idea. There were a multitude of different reasons murderers did the things they did; sometimes because of a Traumatic past, or simply because they wanted to reenact a dark fantasy of theirs. What she did know was that all of them felt their reasons were justified. 

“I guess we'll have to wait until the trial to find out. What matters is that we helped catch him.”

Gianna could not mistake the look of disappointment in her blue eyes. She rested a comforting hand on Eliana’s shoulder. 

“It was you who found that bottle. That's something to be proud of. Don't let your thoughts get you down.”

It was, but it did not make her feel any better that Henry Fucking Conners took full credit for the find. The bottle had a partial fingerprint on it, a fourteen-point similarity to Carter's on-record fingerprints from a B&E felony when he was in his twenties. When the police searched his apartment, they found his sketchbook with drawings of the victims before and after the murders, a metamorphosis into something significant, he claimed. It was a huge success for the forensics team, and while they were credited in general for their effort, Henry was the only one named. 

Eliana honestly felt snubbed again. She forced a smile. 

“I am proud.”

There was some truth to her statement. After all, she helped catch a serial killer, but she hardly felt appreciated. Henry could take the credit, for all she cared, but he could have at least told her that she did good. Approbation was all she wanted. 

It shouldn't matter though. 

But it did.

The sound of her name being called suddenly and loudly brought her out of her brooding thoughts. Eliana raised her brow as Captain Dani Perez of the New York Police Department (NYPD) waved her over. She spared Gianna one final, curious look, then stood and approached him.

“There is someone who wants to see you in my office,” he mentioned in a thick Spanish accent. 

Who? She raised a brow, but Dani did not offer her a name. He motioned for her to follow and led her through the bullpen to a narrow room at the top of the stairs. 

“Leave it like you found it,” Dani stated. A polite way to say ‘Don't touch a damn thing’. 

He waited outside, shutting the door behind him after she walked in. Eliana had been in Dani's office before. It had not changed a bit, devoid of personality aside from a picture of him and his husband the day he was awarded his position as captain; a title he took pride in. 

The only thing that stood out to her was the man standing behind the desk. An open laptop sat on the tabletop in front of him, though she could not see the screen. He smiled kindly at her and motioned to the chair in front of the desk.

“Have a seat, miss.”

Eliana was hesitant but did so. She had no idea what was going on. 

“How are you feeling?” The man asked. His blue eyes studied her as she shifted uncomfortably. 

“Concerned,” Eliana admitted. 

He hummed. 

“You're honest,” he pointed out. “That is good. I only have one question then.”

Eliana raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. 

“Why did you not confront your superior when he took the credit for your find? Henry Conners I mean.” 

She narrowed her eyes in question. What sort of question was that? Her first thought was to counter his question and ask who he was and what business it was of his, but in the end, she opted not to. Eliana sighed. 

“Because despite my feelings, it would have done no good to argue with him. It's the justice that matters.”

Her feelings hardly mattered in her line of work. That was the sad truth. She was ignorant for being hopeful that it did. 

“That is a rather selfless answer,” claimed an androgynous voice. 

The man stepped forward and turned the laptop toward Eliana. There was not a person on the screen staring back at her, but an ‘L’ written in old English text; a thick black letter resting center screen on a white background. 

“Ignore the question,” the voice ordered. “It's not important; just a bout of curiosity. My second in command, Anthony Rester, was instructed to ask on my behalf, but I have to admit, your answer, whether impaired by emotion or not, would not have changed my mind.”

Changed their mind? Eliana raised a brow. 

“If you could fill me in, I'd appreciate it. And maybe tell me who the hell you are.”

“Of course,” the voice agreed. “For now, you may call me L. I'll be hearing from you soon. Rester will fill you in now.”

The screen went black. Eliana stared at it for a moment as if she thought that L would return, but Anthony closed the lid. 

“Are you familiar with the Joint Task Force (JTF)?” 

She could not say she was. Eliana shook her head. 

“It's not a memorable name, I know,” Anthony admitted. “But L chose to trivialize it because of past incidents. We used to be called the Special Provision for Kira.”

The SPK. Eliana had heard of them before. They had an eventful year in 2009. First the disbandment in November, then the mob attack in Manhattan six days later. She saw it on the news, a large amount of money floating from the sky, taking attention from the group. She always wondered what became of them.

“The Kira case was solved in 2010, wasn't it? Were the SPK involved?” Eliana asked. 

“I'm not at liberty to say, but I can assure you that L was involved,” Anthony answered. 

She knew all she needed to know about them.

“What does the JTF want with me? I'm not a detective.” 

“You have an eye for crime scenes. L was…intrigued. He wants to offer you a chance that the department won't; a chance to give you the recognition that you crave,” Anthony answered. 

Recognition. As much as she hated to admit it, the word buried itself beneath her skin. How could she say no to that? Eliana tightened her jaw. There was still so much she was unsure about. 

“I just…I don't know if I can meet his expectations.” 

“I can't offer you any semblance of assurance for your worries, but not taking this chance will indeed mean you won't,” Anthony pressed. “You won't be alone. There are already two detectives on the case, but L wants a fresh set of eyes involved.” 

Sinking back into the chair, Eliana sighed. What should she do? On one hand, she wanted to offer her help. But on the other hand, she was not certain she would benefit the other two detectives. 

“Where is the case?” 

Anthony Rester grinned. 

“What do you know about Misty Pines, Tennessee?”

[homenecromancer]

most of the books i read aren’t the sort that lead to a lot of discussion on tumblr, but here is a trio of recommendations from the books i read this week:

Kim - Rudyard Kipling. a charming adventure / spy story set in India at the turn of the 20th century. its main character is the endlessly entertaining Kim O’Hara, an orphaned teenager who finds himself drawn into British espionage work.

Declare - Tim Powers. Powers is a master of his peculiar brand of fantastic fiction, and Declare is, in my opinion, his best work. it is an espionage novel that sets out a secret history of the Cold War, mostly centered around a fictional secret agent named Andrew Hale, with real secret agent Kim Philby playing a significant secondary role. discovering how deep the supernatural connection goes, and what it entails, is the most enjoyable part of the book, so i will simply say: if you enjoy either cosmic horror or spy stories, get your hands on this book immediately. don’t look up a summary, just go for it.

Medusa’s Web - Tim Powers. the characters in this one are less ably drawn than Declare, but i feel more emotionally attached to Medusa’s Web. as he often does, Powers plays with the concepts of time travel and identity loss/ego death. the central conceit involves a sort of “drug” first popularized in 1920s Hollywood, and the consequences it has on its users. the bits i really enjoy are those related to that very early Hollywood milieu — Alla Nazimova plays an important secondary role, as does her 1922 art film Salomé. Powers is a competent character writer, but a lot of his characters ultimately feel a little stereotypical; the villain of Medusa’s Web is no exception, but her obsession with Nazimova is compellingly drawn. (side note: Nazimova really only has, like, one scene, but her appearance as an unambiguously helpful character who’s explicitly a lesbian is a nice balance to the evil bisexual villain.) anyway, Salomé is also an interesting experience and you can straight-up watch it on Wikipedia.

[blurhawaii]

yuletide 2024

dear yuletide writer,

hello and happy yuletide! thanks for checking out my letter, whether you’re my writer, someone looking to write some treats, or you’re just curious. i’m pretty easy to please and i always try to leave comments befitting the effort you’ve gone to write me something, because i’m well aware that managing to write anything is incredibly tough.

all of the prompts below are merely suggestions, jumping off points for if you’re struggling to come up with anything. if you’ve got something else that you’re excited to write about, go right ahead. trust me, i’ll happily read it, no matter how out there it might be.

and, most importantly, have fun!

+ treats are very welcome and much appreciated.

++ this is easily my longest letter yet. sorry about that.

general likes:

dysfunctional relationships eg. codependency, messed up father/son dynamics, enemies to lovers (with or without the friend step in the middle), power imbalances, age gaps

unexpected team ups with unlikely characters OR bottle episodes as fic where characters are stuck together in a place/room, unable to leave

vulnerability in men, uncertain intimacy, UST, slow burns first times, forehead kisses, emphasis on hands and touch, touch starved characters, tough love as a means of showing affection

canon divergence and what-if fics, missing scenes, post-canon, fix-it fics, outsider POV, character studies over purely plot driven fics, go way weirder if you like as long as it still feels in universe

bonding through shared trauma—bonus if that leads to messy codependency, PTSD, redemption arcs, found family tropes, difficult family relationships, characters that can’t seem to stay away from each other

supernatural horror, magical realism, cosmic horror, body horror, gothic horror, noir tropes, dark humour, monsters of any kind, ghosts, time loops

size difference, age difference, rough manhandling, competence kink, incompetence kink, loyalty kink, praise kink, pilot kink, clothes sharing, cigarette sharing, character studies as porn, breathplay, clothed sex, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, awkward sex, crying especially during sex, blunt communication between sexual partners

angst (with or without a happy ending) and hurt/comfort fics (heavy on the hurt)

polyamory—especially when an established couple brings in a third, and the journey towards getting it to work

consent issues in terms of characters having sex for reasons that aren’t just straight up attraction, such as for comfort, loneliness, thinking it’s what the other person wants, hero worship, being undercover, previous emotional and personal baggage, a difficult family history leading to messed up dynamics with other parental figures, avoidance of bigger problems

soulmate and daemon fics (this is mostly fandom specific, see prompts for more info)

any rating from gen to porn

DNWs:

AUs that are completely disconnected from canon e.g. high school and coffee shop AUs

crossovers with other fandoms

genderbending, trans headcanons, and asexual headcanons

extreme feminisation of male characters

fics that are entirely tooth rotting fluff

permanent character death and terminal illness (temporary death, ghosts, resurrections are all fine though)

A/B/O fics

scat/watersports

mpreg

first person fics, crackfic, chatfic, songfic, and reader inserts

the departed (2006)

*billy costigan *sean dignam

one of my favourite films ever. i request it every year so you can't really go wrong with this. trust me, i will devour anything you write for these two.

my number one love is dignam. i love his filthy mouthed defense of his undercovers (which includes billy) and his obvious loyalty towards the job and his partnership with queenan. i get a lot of enjoyment from how much he seems to hate sullivan on vibes alone. he’s basically got legend status in both the cop world and the criminal world, and i would be very interested in seeing how and why that came to be.

i have a vague headcanon that dignam was once a younger undercover who got out somehow, and since that rarely happens cleanly i can see a lot of potential for a fic that delves into the trauma of that, and how it relates to billy’s time undercover—which definitely DOES NOT end cleanly.

billy spends the entire film struggling with repressed violent tendencies, crippling isolation, constantly being reminded of and compared to his well-liked father (his uncle and cousin too, but less favourably), and having to juggle various different identities to the point where he doesn’t know which one is real anymore. all of which are themes i would also love to see be explored further.

and obviously i am fascinated by every interaction between these two. from dignam’s attack dog interview tactics, which are fully designed to verbally tenderise billy. dignam expertly reading and needling every one of billy’s weak spots, tearing him down to nothing, ready for queenan’s slightly softer good cop approach meant to reshape him to fit their purpose. to the very rare moments where dignam actually softens too (we need you, pal and my personal favourite why don’t we meet up, sweetheart. let me buy you an ice cream), all leading up to the ultimate loyalty moment of dignam killing sullivan at the end as revenge for billy’s death (and probably queenan too.)

i have written a couple of departed fics myself, centred around shipping costigan/dignam. but in all honesty, i would be happy with anything involving them both. shipping is preferred but whatever you are comfortable with is fine. due to the nature of the film, i am perfectly comfortable with physical violence and the screwed up relationship they are bound to have. the friction born of the situation they are in vs the fact that they need each other to get through this is what i am all about.

prompts:

i have already promised my eternal gratitude to a previous gifter who wrote me a wonderfully odd fic for this prompt. so i can only offer something lesser like an arm or a leg if you write me another fic that incorporates the why don’t we meet up, sweetheart. let me buy you an ice cream line. if you can make that happen in-universe, during the time billy is still undercover, my arm and/or leg is yours to do with what you wish.

any fic where billy survives is always welcome. whether it centres around the very real consequences of taking a bullet to the head, the recovery period that follows, and the long term future billy is looking down barrel of. OR billy never takes the bullet. maybe dignam shows up in time and a mexican standoff in the elevator goes very differently.

maybe some kind of role reversal where instead of madolyn being billy’s therapist point of contact outside of both the cop world and the criminal world, billy could show up on dignam’s doorstep looking for some of the world’s worst therapy. if dignam was a previous undercover, it could be perfect for some trauma bonding.

i’ve always been of the opinion that a time loop fic could work well with this. whether it’s billy having the knowledge to avoid his ending (only for an actual good ending still being hard to get), dignam feeling guilty for not answering billy’s calls by the end and wanting to fix both billy’s outcome and queenan’s. OR maybe go really wild and have an outsider POV stuck in a loop, someone striving for their own personal outcome that somehow also benefits billy’s and/or dignam’s fate, like sullivan or queenan.

as i said in my general likes i think some kind of soulmate or daemon fic could be very interesting in a world where undercover work is the setting. billy and dignam having each other’s names on their person could lend itself to some interesting scenarios. just imagine the interview scene with that fact in dignam’s back pocket. and something about daemons being a true reflection of souls really appeals to me when dropped into these circumstances. bonus points here if you twist or subvert these tropes into some unusual take on them.

slow horses (tv)

*river cartwright *jackson lamb

first of all, i’ll definitely be all caught up on the show by the time that yuletide goes live, so no worries there. i’m also currently reading through the first book and will probably continue after that. feel free to throw in some later book canon if you feel you need to, i’m not too bothered by spoilers, but i am mostly familiar with the show canon and the characterisation we’ve been shown so far.

so from what i can gather most people seem to view these two purely through the lense of a father/son relationship. and while i definitely see it and agree it’s there, it doesn’t exactly stop me from being interested in the shipping potential. honestly, river’s slew of mother issues, father issues, grandfather issues, and so on…combined with the reluctant hero worship and the unwanted mentor/mentee relationship, the vaguely father/son relationship he has with lamb just makes the whole dynamic way more deliciously dense for me.

i am fascinated by all the history lamb has with river’s grandfather, both the personal and the work related, and how that ultimately affects how he views river. i love the reality of lamb slowly divorcing the preconceptions and assumptions he first has about river being just the grandson of the OB who fucked up majorly on the job, to lamb seeing river as his very own messed up individual who fucked up on the job. BUT ALSO as someone who still continues to do good and always strives to do better. as two opposing characters, i very much enjoy that dichotomy of river working so hard to escape slough house and lamb barely working to stay where he is.

i’m a massive fan of loyalty in characters, especially when they try so hard to hide the fact that they care, so obviously i love lamb’s fierce defense of his joes, all while constantly berating them and making sure they know they’re losers. which also brings me to river’s coin flip bouts of competence and incompetence as a spy, both of which delight me in equal measure, just as much as it delights me to see lamb’s reaction to both extremes. on top of that, pretty much any time that river gets roughed up and bloody, i cheer and gleefully drink it up.

i love the spy craft elements of this universe, the blend of the old world and the more modern practises, depending on the generation of spy doing the spying. also, just the unrelenting bureaucracy of the job and how being a slow horse puts them right at the bottom of the totem pole, as i’m always pulling for the underdogs in any story.

i enjoy every other character doomed to work at slough house (particularly river’s work buddie louisa, standish’s motherly concern and her own history with both river and lamb, and shirley just because), along with taverner, spider, and even duffy. if any one of them were to show up in something here, i would be a-okay with that. just remember i’m mostly familiar with the show.

prompts:

as i said above, i do ship it and i would be over the moon to receive a gift that manages to craft a believable, in character reason for these two to fuck. i’m envisioning any one of the scenarios i mentioned in the consent issues paragraph from my general likes. from hero worship reasons, weird comfort, loneliness, spy mission in which they’re stuck together and the safe house only has one bed, what starts as twisted payback for lamb’s hatred of david cartwright turning into something else, whatever you can think of. if you draw attention to the vague father/son and mentor/mentee relationship here, i’ll award bonus points.

if you’re not comfortable writing anything shippy, i’d be very happy with any fic where river and lamb have to work together in the field for whatever reason. maybe lamb has to come to river’s rescue OR even the reverse of that. and you can’t really go wrong with in media res-ing a situation where river is hurt and lamb is begrudgingly fixing things.

i’ve given a lot of thought to the idea that lamb has known river since he was young, or at least has been aware of him ever since river was left behind in his grandfather’s care. i’m not too sure of the actual timelines, having less familiarity with the books, but i would be very interested in a kind 5+1 fic detailing moments they’ve met before, back when river was just a boy, growing up, leading to him joining the service, and inevitably the mistake that lands him at slough house. i’m not looking for any shipping content when river is still underage, but after that is fair game to me.

the color of money (1986)

*eddie felson *vincent lauria *carmen

this film manages to cover so many of my interests and i can’t believe it took me as long as it did to watch it. but watch it i have, many times since, and i’ve even gone back and watched the hustler for extra context and more paul newman.

for this request i would like for all three characters to play a part in any fic. i ship all configurations and, if you’re willing, i’ve been craving an ot3 fic since the moment i first watched it. if you’re not comfortable writing explicit content, that’s fine too. please just include everyone.

for me, the draw of this film is the theme of corrupted goodness. by the end, i think all three of these characters have fed into each other’s worst traits and made each other even worse—and honestly i love that. the case is strongest for vincent, i’d say, who starts this film being pretty naïve, whereas eddie and carmen are definitely more streetwise. or professionals, as they call themselves. although, eddie running into them again at the end of the film goes to show that eddie hasn’t managed to change all that much either.

there’s also the amazing line: you make him feel, i teach him how to run—and that very much sums up the dynamic i love here, of accidently creating a monster out of vincent, who eventually turns on them, which in turn keeps both eddie and carmen from rising to anything better. let them all wallow in the gutter where they belong, just as long as they’re together.

there’s the older/younger dynamic between all of them, there’s the mentor/protege relationship between all of them. there’s even the special mention of a father/son relationship which the film wonderfully lampoons with eddie allowing vincent to get hurt in order to teach him a lesson. the way eddie gingerly wipes the blood from vincent’s face afterwards while carmen drives the car is one of my favourite scenes. a fic that explores these many criss-crossing connections would be amazing.

the whole road trip setting leads to some very interesting moments where personal boundaries are tested. i’m fascinated by the way vincent and carmen keep openly pushing eddie when it comes to their relationship, flipping between teasing him and enticing him when they let him into their room while they’re showering and getting dressed. contrast that against the moments where we see them happily hanging out, watching tv, and eating meals together. they seem to genuinely enjoy each other’s company sometimes—the odd kindness vincent and carmen show eddie when he gets played himself is so strangely sweet—all of which makes the later jealousy and betrayal even juicier for me.

i love kitschy americana diners and cheap motel rooms as vibes and atmospheres, along with smokey pool halls and less than reputable bars. i love the passing of different generations, eddie having to come to terms with the fact that times are changing, especially after the events of the hustler, and him now being confronted by vincent and carmen’s youth.

and lastly, i’ve always been of the opinion that eddie passing down his pool cue to vincent is pretty phallic in nature. i don’t really know what to do with this knowledge, i just know i enjoy it, and now it’s yours to do with what you wish.

prompts:

i would love any fic that’s set during their time on the road, going from pool hall to pool hall, getting more familiar with each other. maybe to save their hustled money they have to share a motel room, making it a perfect opportunity for a ‘only one bed’ scenario. i can imagine vincent and carmen having to coax eddie into bed with them because an old man like him shouldn’t be sleeping in a chair. it could also include: stopping at diners, driving late into the night, deep conversations, falling asleep on people’s shoulders, fooling around in the backseat and the voyeurism of a third person pretending not to watch.

maybe lean into the whole playing pool thing and the art of the hustle. only, this time, bring carmen into it more. have eddie and vincent teach her how to play, both the game and other people. or they could be the only ones left at a deserted hall, because no one goes to halls to play pool anymore, and what starts as a teaching moment quickly becomes a game of one-upmanship.

anything post-canon where they continue to run into each other, tripping up the other’s plans and grifts on purpose. real childish nonsense of deliberately getting in each other’s ways, all because they can’t seem to stay away, for better and for worse.

from (tv)

*jade herrera

i’m currently watching the new season as it airs, and will definitely be all caught up by the time that yuletide goes live. any potential writer or gifter, i’m giving you a blanket statement allowing you to include and reference anything that happens this season. as i will definitely be craving some supplemental material to go with whatever craziness they see fit to leave us with.

having said that, if jade dies, i will riot, as he has been my favourite since the very beginning. this weed smoking, schrodinger’s bisexual, arrogant tech company guy who thinks his money can buy him everything, including a way out of this (vr) nightmare.

since his arrival in town, he’s maybe the character that has changed the most. a lot of his arrogance has been stripped away by the cruel reality of this place, and his tailored capris pants and expensive shirts have been replaced by practical sweaters and winter coats. his transformation from pretty boy to mountain man initially caused me some distress, but i have since come to accept it, if only because i do love to see a character in decline. i think it succinctly conveys his new state of mind and his humbled acceptance of his place in the town. it most definitely helps that we are still occasionally graced with his kitty cat shirt, which is maybe my favourite thing about him—and i’m barely even kidding.

i am enamoured by his tendency to rub people the wrong way, despite the fact that he is always trying to help fix things and figure out the mystery of the town. his obsessive personality is both a boon and a hindrance in that regard. though i do still believe he believes he’s the smartest person in any room, only that nothing about the town makes any logical sense.

on that note, the connection the town seems to have with him fascinates me too. it’s very supernaturally psychological in nature. journals full of mad scribblings, visions and cryptic symbols and, of course, we can’t forget the screaming ventriloquist dummy. any fic that delves into this weirdness would be amazing.

i devour each and every small bit of info we learn about him. his long term friendship with tobey, growing up in paris with his grandmother but having to come back to the states to live with his uncle when she dies (really makes me wonder what happened to his parents), his ability and his contentment of playing the violin, his apparent habit of playing dress up as a kid, the million dollar software company he just sold before arriving in town. if you want to write backstory about any one of these things, i’d love to read it.

more generally, i love the horror tropes of this show. the constant looming threat of the monsters, the confusing mess of shit they find in the woods every time they venture out there, being confined inside during the night, the body horror, the teleporting trees, the japanese water spirit, the looping nature of the road in and out of town, the forced comradery of living with strangers, whatever the hell the cromenockle actually is. and so on and so on. feel free to make up your own weird shit and throw it into the pot. as long as jade is there and suffering, i will read anything you can come up with.

prompts:

i requested only jade this year for ease of matching and, rest assured, i will be perfectly happy with a gift featuring only him. pick anything i’ve rambled about above and you’re golden.

on the other hand, if you are willing, a lot of my joy of jade does come from his interactions with others. i ship him with so many people in town, and love his platonic interactions with so many others too. if you would be interested in including them, for my gifter and the potential blessed occurrence of treaters, i’ll briefly touch on a couple of my favourites:

jade & tian chen: from the moment she yelled at him, I knew i was in for a wonderful ride. maternal figures just cut straight through jade’s bullshit and i love it. the scene where jade monologues about his grandmother to tian chen and, despite the language barrier, she just GETS him. ah, chefs kiss. recent events in the show have completely gutted me however. she made him tea :( a soft or bittersweet missing scene before that with the two of them might help piece my heart back together.

jade/jim & jade/tabitha & jade/jim/tabitha: i love both of the relationships jade has with jim and tabitha separately. the logical experiments and science based worldview of the town that he shared with jim—against the supernatural, scooby doo mystery sleuthing, vibes based view that he shares with tabitha. they also both yell at him a lot and that’s always good. as for the ot3, i just think jade has the capacity to fix their fail marriage by being so annoying it brings jim and tabitha closer together again, by them wanting to fuck him just as much as punch him.

jade/boyd // jade & boyd: i just think if they pooled their knowledge and means together they could finally get some serious shit done. there’s nothing more to it than that, really.

jade & victor: bring back the violin. i love how much it meant to victor, and that victor eventually trusted jade to even touch it. i also love the idea that word might spread that jade can play, and others might miss music so much that they force him to play to a bigger crowd.

jade/khatri // jade & khatri: a real missed opportunity here, i think. jade called him beautiful while high, and since he loses his oldest friend tobey on the same day that he arrives, maybe talking to a friendly priest is all he needs. there’s also the fact that jade is one of the few people who also regularly sees ghosts of dead residents in town. other than boyd, who better to bond with a dead khatri?

as for more general prompts, i think the necessity of the talismans could lead to a great bottle episode type of fic, as well as contriving an in-universe reason to stick an unusual combination of characters together in a place overnight. roll a die, if you want, and force them to play monopoly or two truths and lies. whatever gets them talking.

if you want to go really weird, how about a fic where jade’s right about it being a large scale larping situation, or a VR simulation that tobey has actually did set up. what happens then when people die in town?

24 (tv)

*tony almeida *jack bauer

i was a huge fan of this show back when dvd boxsets were still a thing, and i pretty much wore my sets out watching them on repeat. more recently, it showed up on disney+ and i’ve since been reliving my obsession again.

seasons 1-4 were the golden years for me. i continued to watch past that and enjoyed it, but certain events of season 5 (namely: the deaths of tony, michelle and david palmer) were hard for me to get over. i give special dispensation to season 7 because they brought my very special boy tony almeida back as a villain (which i admittedly hated at the time, but have since come to love and really appreciate as a legitimate path for his character to take. more on that below in my prompts.)

it’s so amusing for me to go back to the first season and see tony as this smug, soul patch having loser. a minor character that i’m pretty sure we’re meant to dislike just for the crime of being opposed to jack and nina, all while knowing the amazing journey his character goes on. just know that i appreciate every era he goes through.

tony manages to stay very dry and sardonic throughout, which i adore in a character (i still mimic his flat yah every time he answers a phone.) he shows that he can hold his own in the field too (heart eyes for the times tony shows up with a gun at the last second to save the day, like with terri in season 1 and jack and audrey in season 4.) but he’s also savvy enough at the bureaucracy side of things to rise up the ranks to head of CTU. (RIP to george mason, my absolute favourite side character, despite lasting only last two seasons. xander berkeley the GOAT.)

i love tony’s relationship with michelle because i find it fascinating how similar she is to jack at times. the thing with jack and michelle is that they are very much believers of the adage the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few and the one, which is obviously very important for the job they do. whereas tony is always more interested in saving the people around him, the people he cares about, and ultimately his wife. it’s what leads to his arrest later, tony putting michelle above his country, and that kind of loyalty, him damning all the consequences, is numero uno in my book.

as for jack, i definitely grew up thinking he was the coolest person alive (i find ways to bring up the moment at the la coliseum when he runs up the wall and snaps that guy’s neck an embarrassing amount.) he’s a one man army, a terminator, endlessly persistent, and yet he can still find the time to sit in his car at the end of a long day and cry. he really can do it all and there’s not much more i need to say.

there’s an underlining of loyalty between these two that starts, i think, from the moment they learn about nina’s status as a mole. the fact that they both slept with her at different times (possibly even overlapping) lends itself to a certain bond going forward. a mutual betrayal building a weird commiserating trust. from there, i love seeing tony become one of the few people at CTU jack trusts pretty implicitly. he entrusts kim’s safety (*sighs* oh, kim) to tony on numerous occasions, to the point where tony and michelle even help jack fake his death. can’t get much more trusting than that.

the 24h clock format for the show really was groundbreaking at the time, and i think it still continues to be a major positive that the show has going for it. i love all the subterfuge and having spies working both sides right under your nose. the quick and sudden violence underscored by the ticking clock. the technology is also hilariously dated at this point too that payphones were a legitimate defense against terrorism and secret agendas.

prompts:

i do ship it, along with liking a lot of their canon relationships. i would love a shipping fic involving tony/jack, but gen is fine. depending on the season setting you choose to write in, i’m fine with references to past relationships like tony/michelle, tony/nina, jack/nina, jack/kate, jack/audrey. i do love ot3 fics as well, so if you want to write any combination of jack/tony/nina and jack/tony/michelle too, it will eat it right up.

straight out of prison, depressed and alcoholic tony is a personal favourite of mine. the way jack relays all the sad facts to audrey so casually has always blown my mind. it means jack was there at the sidelines to see it, and he even mentions michelle’s side of things too, showing that he’s familiar with her too. i once read a post where someone wrote: do you think jack was the best man at tony’s wedding? that question has haunted me ever since, and being confronted with tony at rock bottom always brings it to the front of my mind.

there’s so much potential in a fic set pre-season 3. the whole secret OP that jack, tony and gael organise off the record, which involves getting jack addicted to heroin and in with the salazars. it’s rife for further exploring, maybe something messy and uncomfortably intimate with tony being jack’s only point of contact during this period, and having to sneak behind michelle’s back out of necessity.

i’m weirdly fascinated by the reality of working at CTU during the non-disaster days. the boring, day to day stuff we don’t ever get to see. anything set during any era could honestly be interesting. whether that’s early season 1 during the break in jack’s marriage, or season three when jack is head of OPS and tony is his equal. hell, bring back george mason for a day and let him and tony bitch about jack and their coworkers while standing at the water cooler together. i’m game for anything and anyone, as long as tony and jack are present.

season 7 villain tony. i love the angst jack experiences when learning that tony is alive. i think the show fumbles tony’s true motivations a little by having him flip flop between real villain, undercover good guy, back to actual villain getting revenge for michelle. if they had picked one and stuck with it all the way, i think it might have worked better. having said that, i can get behind both versions, and would love a fic detailing either paths. especially something post-season 7 that explores jack reaching out to tony while he’s back in custody.