#not really horror

[badh6bit]

*°:⋆ₓₒ bloodsucker

synopsis: shu yamino’s identity as a vampire is nearly exposed because of a tomato.

content: drabble (?) , vampire!shu , they’re in highschool , no shipping , ft luca ike and mysta (sorry kindreds 😔) , shu is in fact NOT a bloodsucker , shu is a vampire fruit bat , crack fic kinda?? , not proofread , im writing for their personas/characters NOT the actual people

shu and his family have been living amongst humans for hundreds and hundreds of years now, without any suspicions surrounding them. they have been one of the longest surviving vampire families and they plan to keep it that way. they are extremely cautious of vampire hunters and must move to the next city immediately to avoid being caught.

this is how shu ended up in his new high school, and surprisingly, he had an easy time adjusting. he made friends quickly, aced nearly every assignment and test given (ignoring the fact that he’s hundreds of years old uhh..), and participates in extra curricular activities.

things were going smooth for shu! until one day he decided to invite ike, mysta and luca over to finish a school project together.

it was the afternoon and the four boys looked as if they could faint any moment. luca had wrapped a towel around his neck to keep him from sweating, ike definitely wore a turtle neck on the wrong day and mysta was using his textbook as a fan

“jeez shu where’s you air conditioner?!” mysta groaned as he started to fan himself aggressively. despite being vampires, shu’s family couldn’t afford an air conditioner. instead, his mother bought a cheap electrical fan she found in a run-down furniture store.

seeing the three of them suffering from the extreme heat in his room started to make shu thirsty. i think there’s tomatoes in the fridge, he thought, ill try to excuse myself to get some.

“maybe there’s a better working fan in the living room somewhere,” shu smiled, trying hard not to make it look like he was lying, “i’ll be back in a second.”

shu stood up from the floor and walked out of his room, he could hair mysta’s pleas to hurry as he shut the door.

shu made his way over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. inside, he found one last tomato left. finally! he plopped himself in front of the open fridge and sank his fangs into the ripe tomato. if this wasn’t one of the best feelings ever, shu didn’t know what was. but soon this relaxing moment for shu would be over in seconds, as-

“hey shu! have you se-“ luca walks into the kitchen, stopping as he sees shu sat on the floor. awkwardly, shu turns his head around meeting his gaze. oh frick. the red juice from the pierced tomato dribbles down his chin and onto the tiled floor.

the loudest shriek ever made resonates around the room as luca began scrambling back. “SHU WHAT THE HELL??” his high pitched squealing combined with the most ear piercing yell alerted both mysta and ike into the kitchen.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” mysta exclaims, ike following right behind him. luca’s arm trembles as he points towards shu’s direction, “sh-shu..he-“

“SPEAK DAMMIT-“

“HE’S A VAMPIRE!!”

the room goes silent for a few seconds.

shu sighs as he slowly stood up from the floor, placing the tomato back into its confines and closing the door shut. he walks towards the three other boys slowly in a calm manner, “listen, i can expl-“ shu is cut off by both mysta and luca’s screams as they desperately held onto each other for support.

oh come on.

ike groans loudly at the pair’s idiocy and turns towards them, “are you guys kidding iTS TOMATO JUICE!” the room, for the second time, goes silent for nearly a minute. it almost seemed like time had stopped

their blown out eyes began to relax as they slowly let go of each other.

“uh yeah, i-i was just kidding!”

“i totally knew that?!”

ike rubs his temples as he looks back at shu in shame, “i’m so sorry shu, these two are so dramatic.” shu smiles while shaking his head, “nah, you guys are good.”

thank you, ike! shu silently cheers as the boys head back into his room.

“did you at least get the fan, shu?”

“nope!”

after about 20 more minutes of studying and hard work between the group, the boys were ready to head back home. shu waved the others goodbye as the three of them turned the street.

phew, i’m so glad that didn’t escalate too quick, shu thought to himself as he leaned against the doorframe, i should play valorant.

and with that, shu’s totally normal average teenager life can continue without any slip-ups!

i think.

author’s note(s): small fic for almost Halloween?.!.?.? i was inspired by the official art of vampire shu he looks so cool OMGGGG hope ygs liked it even tho it’s a little rushed.. 👍👍

[doublegoblin]

Homesick

They were set to move away soon. Another life in another place. Somewhere they wouldn’t be remembered for their past but their future. 

Bittersweet. 

They were the last to go, everyone else had the sense to get out while they could. It was fine though, less people and things to mourn. So they set up the trailer, loaded it with boxes, and sent them on their way. Something tugged at their heart. Something they had almost forgotten.

So they went home. 

Long abandoned, once by people now almost by memory.

Disheveled, disordered, distant.

Home.

Leaning on their car door they looked upon this weathered shell. Had it really been this long? Mom and Dad were just sitting at the table, a holiday feast just as warm as the company milling about. Mom had just handed Dad the phone on a humid summer night, he talked their ear off with the same story from the factory. Recalling every detail with perfect clarity. They could still hear their mother comforting him, once he forgot where he was. The service was nice. Even if the dreary fall weather may have been on the cosmic nose.

Closing their door they walked up to the home. Mom wasn’t long after Dad. They could still feel her fingers wrapping around theirs, clinging desperately, before gently falling to the hospital sheets. She was buried next to Dad, of course. 

A mournful wind brushed up their legs and knocked the shutters gently. Stair number two, a double-edged alarm for all late night stragglers. They paused once more. Eyes lingering on the porch swing. There was at first a compulsion, a need, to sit and rock one last time. But as their eyes traced up the rusted chain, a bowed support beam suggested otherwise.

They knew the door was free for all to come and go. Still. Under the horrendously gaudy ceramic frog, they pried the key from its crusted tomb. And, locked the door. Just to unlock it. The deadbolt barely making a noise, maybe it had fallen away? The ritual had been completed however, so they were, at least internally, allowed entry.

The entry way seemed so much smaller. While looking up the rotted stairs their keys clattered to the floor. A moment of silence, then came the giggles. Brushing the porcelain shards aside, they retrieve their blunder and stuffed it away in their coat pocket. In the stillness, they could hear the grandfather clock ticking away. A trick of the mind; that went with the estate sale. Likewise they could hear their mothers voice twofold.

“Take off your shoes honey, it’s rude not to.” and “Oh dear, please keep them on, heaven knows what sorts of things are hiding here.”

With nobody around to scold them, the shoes stayed on as they drifted slowly in this memory.

Bracing against a bitter wind they rounded the corner to their left.

Gentle popping of cathode tubes. Warm buzzing of the brand new fluorescent lights. A dimly blue hue cast along the room during the night. They traced their hand across the wall, the floral pattern wallpaper peeling and molded. Stopping at the worn away patches of shag carpeting, where the couch used to set. To them, at such a tender young age, that couch held a magic. Falling asleep to some colorful show, only to awaken tucked in their bed. Now older and much wiser, at least so they hoped; the real magic was that old man, joints screaming and back aching, who’d scoop their slumbering body up and whisk them away to a better resting spot. That old man, who’d they’d find slumped over and drooling on the cushions. Dead to the world, save for the moment that dial was touched.

“Hey hey, I was watchin’ that. Just…just resting my eyes!” He’d groan sitting up.

They wandered over to the corner. Something caught their eye. There was no way, but yet, they bent over, and pulled a still green pine needle from a carpet tangle.

Peering out the large window that flanked where the couch had rested. Almost hidden from view, the old street light stood. Clutching the needle gently they smiled softly. Setting on the windowsill their mind drifted once more. It was a horrible blizzard that year. They had lost power pretty early in the day. As evening came they all huddled on the couch. Mom and Dad told them and their sister stories, just something to pass the time. Even as the wind howled, the frost stretched across the glass, and the temperature fell. It all didn’t matter, just as long as Mom and Dad were there. Then just as the last candle flickered away, leaving only pitch empty darkness, an orange glow flickered and filled the room. The family beheld the street light, and the gently falling snow that danced in its amber glow. The parents sighed in relief, the siblings bickered about whose turn it was picking the movie.

Barren hallway walls held them close as they crossed still standing floor beams into the kitchen. Closing their eyes they could still smell Moms tuna fish casserole. They wretched. Then chuckled. Nobody had purchased the old oak table, nor its two friends. The seats sport a new green cushion. Running a hand along the smooth tabletop they paused at an almost vanished stain. A sting in their heart. They had watched from around the corner, parents having thought the kids already to bed. There were hushed words, sniffled feelings, and hesitant touches.

“But how do we tell-” Mom started before Dad eased her worries.

“We’ll figure it out, it will…it’ll…it’ll be fine.”

Thankfully, they caught it early enough. Shame they missed a little.

Dazed, they rubbed the palm of one hand with the thumb of the other. This memory was meant to stay locked away. Shaking their head they took a quivering breath and exhaled. Their focus now on the slapping of a worn screen door. Where a stabbing pain had taken root, now butterflies filled them. Head warm and face flushed they stood under the overhead porch light; what was left of it that is. 

It was such a quick moment. But boy, did it leave a mark. It was a humid and horribly hot night. The sun had just started to set when he walked them home. Loose dust kicked up from their feet as their voices carried along the breeze. They can’t exactly recall what prompted these friends to become vacation lovers. It was there though, in the dim yellow glow, with moths fluttering about and mosquitoes biting he took their hands. His skin was so rough, but, soft. Their hands were cold and clammy. He stood just a step down, their eyes level. Deep caramel gems. His lips were soft and warm on theirs. Daggers of cold stung their cheeks, bringing them back to the present. Their heart raced. It was tragic, he was their one but they were one of many. Besides, their partner was a better kisser anyway.

So that was it then. The stairs would only crumble away and posed more danger than not embracing their held secrets. Yet they lingered in the front doorway. Stuck now between two worlds. Would they truly be satisfied not seeing their old room? They took a hesitant step forward. A support beam cracked loose from the ceiling and tore through the rotted steps and warped railing. Better an answer than any. 

As they drove away. They watched the house heave a final breath. It had waited for them to come back for so long, and now, it could know peace. The walls came crumbling down, the roof sunk into itself, and when the dust settled all that remained were twisted timbers and broken foundation.

And the warm smiling faces of their parents waving goodbye.

[moomoorare]

I love nautical and seaside town horror stories. Tell me more about the fog and water that eats people

[solarwreathe]

in another universe they could have been playing at the beach

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Pit bonnie considers himself a great dad!

[exilley]

I do sort of wish western anime fans would analyze anime and manga from a framework of japanese historical and cultural context. Specifically a lot of works from the 90s being influenced by the general aimlessness and ennui that a lot of people were experiencing due to the burst in the bubble economy and the national trauma caused by the sarin terrorist attack. I think in interacting with media that’s not local to our sociocultural/sociopolitical sphere it’s easy to forget that it’s influenced and shaped by the same kinds of factors that influence media within our own cultural dome and there ends up being this baseline misalignment of perception between the causative elements of a narrative and viewer interpretation of those elements. It’s a form of death of the author that i think, in some measure, hinders our ability to fully understand/come to terms with creator intent and the full scope of a work’s merits

[onebadnoodle]

peeling

(painting for art class)

[aeliem]

papyrus meets the bad sanses (for let papyrus say fuck day)

please click for better quality i didn't see how blurry tumblr made the text oh god

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[appaeve]

homesick

[ionomycin]

[beebeedibapbeediboop]

The caretaker

[ghostlypinkbiscuit]

will the hunger ever end

[paintedcrows]

Biting you. Biting you. Biting-

[feefal]

Cells migrating, body dissolving

[chloesimaginationthings]

William is the most divorced man in the FNAF universe