#she has lots of horrifying lore

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Did you know that if you are a Bard (or maybe everyone can?? Idk)and you play the war drum outside of the goblin camp

Your character summons the goblins as backup but they start dancing, and you get off with a warning where

The head goblin guy says: "you shouldn't have done that because it summons reinforcements for battle but I'll let it off because you made everybody have a dance party and that's pretty sick bro"

Also if you hit screen cap at the exact right moment it looks like you are praying to some God and there's even a Divine Holy light that casts across the screen it's ridiculously funny given the context also probably good fan art reference

Also this is Lyric, the bard! She detects thoughts and uses insight to get the advantage on every situation. However, impulse control is an ongoing issue. Re: war drum 🥁 party 🎉🥳

[blueikeproductions]

So the other TFONE Prime cards came out, so what I’ll do is just cover the ones I don’t have much to say about here.

First up Solus Prime.

Solus has had the weirdest design philosophies. This design seems to be primarily based on the Prime Wars webseries look.

Which is the superior design vs her original look which has this weird HR Geiger Species vibe I’m not fond of.

Solus’ primary claim to fame is being the first female Transformer, and the only one among the Primes, making most of the famous weapons in the general lore, and pry most tragic: getting shot by The Fallen and dying. Her body serving as the basis for the Well of Allsparks, meaning she functionally given birth to all Transformers going forward. There’s a… lot to unpack there, not helped is shows like RiD15 and Cyberverse use her name as an exclamation/cuss in “Sweet Solus Prime!” Unlike the older lore, ONE Solus dies by Sentinel’s actions, absolving Megatronus of the matter, which honestly I kinda prefer. Whether Solus and Megs were romantically involved here is unknown. I think what I’m most surprised by is the movie resisted giving Elita Solus’ Cog, since I guarantee older stuff would’ve done that. Outside of both being girls tho’, Solus does fit Elita’s hard working personality more than Alchemist and Onyx.

Nexus Prime

Not gonna lie, I’m kinda disappointed about this one. His gimmick is he’s the first Combiner, which again contradicts Aligned’s claim Amalgamous is the first converting robot with the first Cog. The ONE design pushes it more into a G1 Blitzwing direction, with vestigial nods to the combiner idea in that he looks to combine from a jet and tank in particular, again mirroring Blitzwing.

Though it also could be a reference to Flywheels.

Nexus Prime’s original designs nevertheless make his Combiner gimmick expressed more clearly.

So it feels like a bit of a downgrade to me. His gun shield looks like it formed from a tank component to me, but that could be a stretch… Maybe he really IS a Duocon in this universe.

Liege Maximo

If there’s one thing Liege is known for, it’s not having a consistent design.

As we’ve gone from whatever this is supposed to be…

To Loki because the MCU was really popular back then.

The new design still uses Marvel Loki as the basis, but dials it back considerably, instead making him more of a generic knight. Notably the inclusion of a sword is interesting, as Aligned states his weapons are poisonous Legion Darts. Maximo’s initial concept painted HIM as the first Decepticon, of which Megatron and the others are descended from, an evil being created by Primus to counterbalance the first Prime via G2. Because Megatronus later inherited a lot of this, he instead was cast as more of a manipulative trickster, still evil, but not to the same extent as his G2 version was. Liege Maximo is also the Prime of false starts, as his G2 and IDW selves were set up as the next major villain but cancellation saw this unresolved. G2 Liege Maximo saw conclusion in what was unofficial fan fiction written by Furman, while IDW Liege Maximo was unceremoniously killed by Shockwave-Onyx in the main book. His only role that saw a proper conclusion was in RiD15, where he was the villain of the day in a chapter book causing problems for the Autobots because he was bored in the Prime Realm and wanted a cheap thrill. RiD is also the only place his Loki like characteristics were played around with. Because the Primes in ONE appear to all be benevolent, it’s not clear if Megatronus or Liege Maximo are still supposed to be the evil ones or not, but the more heroic looking Liege says no to me.

Amalgamous Prime

The mad lads finally made this horrifying thing work.

Pushing it into a four armed ED-209 direction is much better, and frankly going by his more “primitive” build, they can easily make future Shockwave toys into Amalgamamous. This guy’s claim to fame in the modern lore is being the first actual Transformer with the first Cog, which again is contradicted by Nexus and (possibly) Onyx also being able to Transform… Aligned lore says his Cog informed all future robots on Cybertron of the ability to Transform, but ONE streamlines it that ALL the Primes had Cogs and the ability to Transform, making Amalgamous somewhat redundant. Aligned also claims his direct descendants are “Shifters”, Transformers with omni transformation, rather than the standard robot to vehicle.

Aligned didn’t really do much with this concept because you can’t realistically make a toy of such a thing nor is it feasible to have them as reoccurring characters for both expenses and being OP, with TFP Makeshift and RID15 Pseudo being depicted as shadow creatures in their default mode. The Shifters haven’t returned post Aligned so I think it’s an abandoned concept. Future stuff I would assume would instead say Triple Changers and Six Changers are AP’s direct descendants since they’re much easier to work with in toy and fiction. His new Robot Mode makes me think he turns into a tank, but I’m also not sure if his head is his chest or not….

Vector Prime

Aside from his head and colors, the TFONE version is straight up the original Galaxy Force version.

Though his colors evoke one of Vector Prime’s influences, the Marvel G1 Last Autobot.

Vector Prime’s best known role is in Cybertron/Galaxy Force, where as the Primus appointed guardian of time, he joined the Autobots of the present day to find the Cyber Planet Keys to close the Black Hole that threatened the universe, as it was the end of time. Galaxy Force also showed Vector Prime can manipulate time, but it was a drain on his energy, and using it too much would kill him. Notably he used a brief display of this early on to save the kids and Mini-Cons from certain death, but I guess this version of Vector couldn’t do the same to defeat Sentinel & the Quints…

[windvexer]

what's your opinion on pop culture witchcraft? i think it seems really fun and cool im just not sure how exactly a fictional god will manifest in the "real" world? i was just curious on what you thought :p thank you for your time!

I think that pop culture witchcraft is beautiful and sacred and I think more people should get into it!

My views on the intersection of popular culture (aka, the dominant cultural beliefs and creations at this moment in time) and witchcraft originate from the fact that when I began doing a lot of energy work, I saw a lot of stuff as video game characters & assets.

If I would binge any video game, for the next little while, a lot of my energy readings would be output in the symbols and lore from that game.

E.g., a pokemon binge, seeing Gengar near the querent: "Yes, you're being haunted by a ghost."

A DAO binge, seeing a dryad writing a letter to the querent: "A tree wants to talk to you."

These experiences have deeply influenced my beliefs on the nature of psychism, communing with the spirit world, and divination as a whole. It has inspired my beliefs on how to work with divinatory tools, especially my concepts of choosing your own symbol sets to work with.

After all, an upright triangle is so abstract, but a charmander? For many of us, that is a deeply rooted symbol of fire indeed! And I can't imagine how a triangle might act if it needs to be revived and balanced in my life, but I can surely visualize a charmander feeling sick and cold, or desperately trying to stack and balance heavy boxes.

This inspired me to consider the intersection of popular culture and the experiential nature of witchcraft. After all, aren't so many of us deeply imprinted on and influenced by what culture has told us about magic and spirits? Where is the line in the sand between how culture makes us interact with magic (path), and how culture makes us interact with magic (practice)?

Let me tell you a story!!

There is some internet monster named Momo. Momo has a *very* scary face (to me at least) so be warned if you google.

But when this story starts, I had never heard of Momo. I had never seen a picture of Momo or heard her name. Yes? Yes.

Now one time, I was doing an energy reading for a person, and I saw a horrifying monster woman with huge eyes and a twisted smile like a V slashed across her face, and not only this, but the horrifying monster woman was standing over the querent's bed, watching them sleep.

As a reader with about an ounce of wisdom, I knew much better than to say, "hey, a horrifying monster is watching you while you sleep." Because that is a dick thing to say to anyone.

As I continued watching to try and gain more information, it struck me that this monster woman wasn't threatening at all. She didn't have bad vibes. In fact she seemed neutral, or perhaps even an ally. She was just watching the person sleep.

I couldn't help but notice, however, that I could see her face so clearly. So distinctly. So I googled something like, "big smile scary woman face."

And there she was: Momo! The exact monster I was seeing. It was a startling moment, made all the more strange by the fact that this wasn't some monster of mythical lore or legend. It was like, a TikTok trend or something.

Finally I had to tell the querent something. Now y'all this happened some years ago and I don't remember exactly how it went down, but it was like this:

"Hey, someone is watching you sleep. The form is scary looking but they don't seem threatening at all. I googled it and it looks exactly like an internet urban legend named Momo."

"What? My cat?"

"No, it's a woman, an urban legend named Momo."

"No, my cat Momo. My cat is named Momo. She watches me while I sleep."

So to answer your question, Anon:

I expect that a fictional god can manifest at least as bizarrely as a real cat, I believe that the simple phrase "real world" is an artifact that fits into few reliquaries of the occult, and I think that pop culture witchcraft is absolutely fabulous.

[n7punk]

i feel like i had a very different reaction to the izutsumi lore comic re: her beastkin being constructed from an eastern big cat with a human soul put in (vs starting out human and having a bit of monster soul introduced to transform her) than what i'm seeing in the tags. to me, that doesn't mean "oh she's literally a cat with increased sentience", it means she was once a person who has taken from her own body and put into this artificial construct. the translation of her timeline i've seen ("taken from her family" at age 6 i believe) supports this, implying she once had a normal human life.

this has so much potential. she was a human girl once, but something happened to her body and she was forced into a new one. you can come up with a lot of headcanons and stories behind this reverse-beastkin experiment. maybe she was kidnapped randomly (the wording kind of implies this, but again - its a translation), but i'm an angst lord so i already have a headcanon about her family willingly giving their young daughter up when she was dying hoping it would be a way for her to live with her own body failing. maybe they were tricked into it and she was taken away after it was a success, but hey, if i want to be really angsty, maybe they were horrified by the result and willingly gave her up to the freakshow once they saw her new form

[vespidclan]

I’m still surprised that so many people are interested to learn more about this story, so have background information for 404! Asks are open for me to answer regarding the lore as well :>

If you have seen the nice story ⊘𝟙⊘⊘𝟙𝟙⊘𝟙 ⊘𝟙𝟙⊘𝟙𝟙𝟙𝟙 ⊘𝟙𝟙𝟙⊘𝟙⊘𝟙 ⊘𝟙𝟙𝟙⊘⊘𝟙𝟙 ⊘𝟙𝟙⊘⊘𝟙⊘𝟙 ⊘𝟙𝟙𝟙⊘⊘𝟙𝟙 ⊘𝟙𝟙𝟙⊘𝟙⊘⊘ ⊘𝟙𝟙⊘⊘⊘⊘𝟙 ⊘𝟙𝟙𝟙⊘⊘𝟙⊘ made to read, you would learn that Moththorn was once a normal cat. Only she was born with having clearer vision than everyone else. She knows where she is, what she is, that all her actions are but chance randomly generated by a computer.

She has the power to THINK like no other cat could. To have this amount of sentience. And yet, the power to think horrified her—she was made up of text and code. All her senses were but fabricated lies and false stimulation designed by words.

And at first, it horrified her. But all of her knowledge, it led her to hate the cats around her, who could live so obliviously and without a sense of reality. To be in hell, and yet, follow an image of heaven.

After… those events, she learned exactly what she wanted to know. And she became so unrecognizable, so painful, that she was stripped of everything that made her an individual that she became godlike. And she would make that known to the deceased cats of Pineclan, as for every other cat that end up with her.

This segment was during the night the sisters found their new home. Heartpaw used to have waking nightmares and a tendency to think strangely. But after meeting 404, and learning about… her file… she wondered if it could fix’ her behavior. And it did. It changed her trait from ‘bloodthirsty’ to ‘l̶̪͕̘̖͕̠͙̤̳̐͐͒̒͝ò̸̠̬͉͖̬̝͔̣̄̽̄̔͘͘y̴̡͛̈̀̀͌̓̈́͑a̴͉̭̫̖̮̣̭̓̇̍̊͐͒͑́l̶̻̞̻̳̫̔̈́͊́̾̒ty’ with such ease that she no longer gets nightmares. How could 404 refuse to help her daughter in distress? Maybe Iciclestar and Snakevalley need her guidance. Maybe someday.

…That’s all you’ll get fo now! There’s still lots of secrets to be known soon ;D

[quitealotofsodapop]

the previous post got me thinking of my og Yuebei design for the slow-boiled au,and got thinking; what would she look like without LBD's influence?

immediately I got blasted with the mental image and had to draw her.

you've heard of Slow Boiled Yuebei, now get ready for Soft Boiled!

basically Yuebei was born sooner for whatever reason and therefore didn't consume LBD's dao. I like to think she was actually originally gonna be a lot like pre-during jttw Wukong; loud, bright, abrasive. But by consuming an entire demon's dao it influenced her overall being, making her more chilled out. so she's basically the opposite of her Slow Boiled counterpart.

there are some similarities. she still has her glow-y ears and black fur from Wukong's yearning for Macaque, and her mask is still a skull-shape, just not bleached white by LBD instead red so it looks like the mask the eclipse twins have. however, she relies more heavily on the fire-y imagery of the sun rather then the soft clouds and bones of Slow Boiled Yuebei.

now, lore.

she might also be able to be considered an "opposite au" as I like to think the catalyst for the changes between Soft and Slow Boiled is the Samadhi Fire ritual. everything up to that point is the same as in Slow Boiled, but during the ritual Yuebei, still just 'the egg' reacts badly to the fire, but this time, instead of just causing a potential miscarriage scare, it sends Wukong into premature labor.

this is not good. obviously. premature baby is not great, likely to have health issues and complications. the labor takes many, painful, stress filled hours, close to a full day! unlike her Slow Boiled counterpart, Soft Boiled takes hours after hatching to start crying. Wukong is understandably a mess during this time. for a lomg portion of it he's grappling with the possible consequences of the ritual, and if he made the right choice to participate. luckily he has the pilgrims to comfort him until Guanyin comes back with news.

this also has the side affect to tipping off previously unaware parties of his pregnancy. PIF is having words with her brother-in-law later. Ne Zha is a little horrified, DBK is just trying to figure out if everyone is still alive while trying to keep a baby Red Son entertained. he too will be having words with Wukong later tho.

I don't think Yuebei will have ended up being a ring in this au, as she rejected the fire after originally trying to consume its dao, having learned the hard way it was too much for her. might have freaked out a little to much tho. but its possible have taken at least a little nibble of the fire to taste test may have contributed to her fire-y personality in the end.

as for her childhood. I think she'd be like, pre-teen to 14 as of canon lmk.

I feel like her being premature + samadhi fire shenanigans means she was a little sickly as a baby. maybe even with some permanent, though not overly serious, damage. perhaps she fried some of her nerves trying to absorb the fire, resulting in a lack of feeling around her chest area? maybe her taste buds too, she likes DBK + Red Son's cooking because it's hot enough she can actually taste it.

for as long as they were around, she grew up around the pilgrims, with them acting as a support group for Wukong. then, one by one, they stop coming. she doesn't understand why, having been so young. and with as young as she still is when canon rolls around, she also doesn't really understand why they don't remember her, and why they stopped coming around so they could run a noodle shop, and why they seem to have moved on without a second thought of her to raising another kid. she just knows Baba looks sad when he sees them around.

she probably is very jalous of/very avoidant while glaring daggers at MK when he first becomes Wukong's student. he took her uncles from her, was he trying to her baba now too? probably comes to a head in an episode of its own. perhaps he takes her to the shadow play to try and connect with her, Yuebei having shown an interest in theater, but she's quiet and grumpy the whole time. the two unexpectedly do end up bonding over beating on Macaque when they realize he's present, MK having been let in on some stuff by his mentor early and Yuebei also knowing some things herself.

you see, she knows about Macaque, Wukong having tried to raise her with the knowledge of his mate/her other parent. but he also tried to be honest with her, so the second it comes time to learn the full truth of how she was born she can't help but resent him a little bit. even more so when Wukong explains how, when, and why he died. she knows of his hearing abilities, her baba loved how her ears looked like 'his special ones', he should have known about her. she wonders is she wasn't enough for Macaque, if she wasn't worth trying to salvage the relationship for, or, worse yet, if he hadn't wanted her altogether. Wukong tries to tell her that couldn't be farther from the truth, but she can only believe him so much. she also isn't pleased with him for abandoning her baba in the first place.

the first time she meets Macaque (the shadow play) and clues into who he is, she decks him in the face and tries to fight him. having not even registered her presence previously, Macaque's just confused about where this sassy child came from- and why are her ears like that? why does she look so familiar?

no answers arise before MK, a slightly bigger threat then the runt that somehow got the jump on him, joins the fray, just as pissed at the monkey.

season 3 is... complicated, to say the least. Macaque reacts about as well as you'd expect him to when LBD reveals the girl who punched him mere hours before is his ex-mates kid. who is now a wanted enemy to boot, LBD wanting her as leverage against the king.

this got super long, how do i keep doing this? anyway hope you enjoyed my tangent on this new little au of mine

Link to; Yuebei's Slow Boiled au design.

One; I ADORE EVERYTHING about Soft Boiled au Yuebei's design! The fiery sun imagery, the red and black clothing that makes her look ready to Fight, her orange eyes, the little red ribbon in her hair!!! And she has her own version of Macaque's scarf!!

Two; Wukong about to get a talking to the second his adoptive family gets a hold of him. Once the monkey recovers from the early labour, and has emotionally recovered from the rollercoaster that was Yuebei's birth ofc. It would be so cute if Yuebei first started crying over something completely normal - for some reason, I'm thinking it's something like Zhu Bajie trying to pull a funny face for her. Wukong is so relieved to hear his baby crying that he doesn't even scold his pilgrim brother for scaring her!

Three; Wukong would be so protective of his little Moon Comet Star. She was so sickly and weak as a baby, that he worries about ever letting her leave places he knows to be safe. But of course she is growing up...

Four; I feel like Yuebei's growth was severely stunted by the Fire, hence why she's seems much younger than Red Son despite being only a few years apart in age. That and I can imagine Wukong took her to stay with Guanyin on her unaging island for a while to help her health improve. She's ultimately a big kid.

Five; And oooough! Yuebei not understanding that her pilgrim uncles have passed on and reincarnated, but believes that they've "abandoned" her and her baba!! Thinking MK has "stolen" her family from her and is attempting the same with her dad. MK wanting to be Yuebei's friend since she seems so lonely, but not knowing why she's cold towards him! (｡•́︿•̀｡)

I bet even with Guanyin, "Cousin" Nezha, and the very rare corespondance with PIF and Red Son, Yuebei spends a lot of her childhood lonely.

Yuebei is gonna have a time when she starts understanding whats really going on with the Noodle Gang, and why her family "suddenly" can't remember her. Wukong blames himself for not explaining it better to her earlier, but hadn't wanted to dump so much loss on his babygirl all at once - it was a lose-lose situation.

I LOVE Macaque's first impression of Yuebei being "Who's sassy child is this??" He don't hate her, he's just a little confused why some little kid has beef with him specifically. Also confusion on why she looks like him and Wukong mixed together.

MK 🤝 Yuebei: beating up Macaque for being a doofus.

I imagine Macaque awkwardly trying to connect with Yuebei after S3, and reconnect with Wukong, especially since he hadn't even known she existed at the time of his and Wukong's big fight (or chose to believe so - Memory Scroll issue for later). Yuebei doesn't like Macaque, but she doesn't completely abhor the idea of him and her baba becoming close again. She just doesn't want either of them to get hurt again.

LBD likely gets destroyed closer to canon, since Yuebei doesn't eat her soul (I hope XD) like in the Slow Boiled au. Yuebei takes her skull tho. Trophy.

Azure Lion about to get decked in the face the second he comes around. When did the monkeys multiply? Why is he on fire?

Wukong is just watching Yuebei tear into their enemies like; "I love my strong little girl." <3

[weirdheadcanons]

Fic Idea

Okay, I kinda ended up stumbling into another Batfam series idea...

Love the Baby Robins trope, but of course, if you actually think about it it is horrifying to have a twelve year old investigating serial killers in Gotham...

So currently I'm more or less coming up with Supernatural Batfam ideas to cancel out the child soldier angle of Robin.

I wanted a series idea where Bruce is actually doing the right thing - or at least, choosing the least damaging option - by making the kids Robins.

So, this one.

In Indian folklore, it is believed that those who die an unjust death can come back as Other.

Which flavor of Other can vary, going from vampiric ghosts to local gods.

The usual pattern in the lore is that, those who die unjust deaths - especially if they died young - come back vengeful, dangerous.

Deadly. Not just to the ones who wronged them, but to everyone. They are furious, destructive, lashing out at every living thing.

So when someone comes back like that, the local people begin to try and pacify them. Give them offerings. Pray to them. That goes on long enough, the Other becomes benevolent. Becomes a local guardian spirit instead of vengeful demon.

Basically you deal with a destructive Other by literally taming them with love.

Thinking about how this can fit Gotham Rogues.

A lot of them had tragic pasts. Pasts that could very well have killed them.

So the Rogues can be the vengeful Others. Jack Napier who died falling into that chemical vat, Harleen Quinzel killed by a trigger happy cop during an Arkham Breakout when she was trying to protect her patients, Harvey Dent dying after the acid attack, etc.

Batman starts out hunting the vengeful Others, wanting to lock them away forever (Arkham has special units which work better than normal cells would but not good enough), but his method of dealing with Others has to change when he sees the Graysons die.

Dick falls too. And unlike his parents, he won't move on, becoming an Other... on the way to becoming one of the vengeful Others, one of the demons.

Bruce can't lock a child away in Arkham - even an Other child.

So he and Alfred basically calls in every contact they have, trying to figure out some way to prevent the kid from turning into one of the haunters.

And finds out it is possible for an Other to become a guardian spirit, if enough positive emotions are directed their way. Love and worship.

Hence, Robin.

The Light of Gotham. Adorable, popular. Hero-worshipped.

Turning from vengeance to Guardian spirit...

[bettyfrommars]

Season of the Witch

by @allthingsjoeq & @bettyfrommars

steddie x reader

Blair Witch Project au

Warnings: 18+ONLY, found footage horror, hurt/no comfort, fem!reader who is just a friend, no Vecna, angst, lost in the woods, mentions of witchcraft, paranormal happenings, things that go bump in the night, fear of being stalked, allusions to gore and MCD.  Dead dove do not eat. wc: 13k

If you are familiar with the film The Blair Witch Project, you know some of what to expect. This is a horror fic; it will be scary and unsettling at times, so please take caution if the genre makes you uncomfortable. 

Summary: Three friends find themselves in a small town in Maryland, the home of the Blair Witch, in order for Steve Harrington to film a documentary for his semester project.  In tow are his boyfriend, Eddie Munson, and you, a friend he invited along to be his trusty cameraperson.  Once you are too deep in the woods to find your way back, the myths surrounding the lore of the land begin to take shape, and you realize you might never make it out of there alive.

Much love to @allthingsjoeq for all of the blood, sweat, and tears that went into this, and also for calling it "a Marmite fic". We hope you enjoy this contribution to the October festivities! Much love.

Burkittsville Cemetery, Maryland

“Here we are,” Steve Harrington can’t contain the glimmer of wonder in his eyes, behind wire-rimmed spectacles, as he parks near the overgrown site of the cemetery.  

You look up from fiddling with the camera in the back seat as the tires crunch to a halt, already thinking of where the best spot to get a shot of Steve would be for the documentary he’s working on.  You aren’t as familiar with filming as you should be for being his main cameraperson, but you and Steve had become close friends very quickly, and he practically insisted you be a part of it. 

He was especially fascinated with the town you grew up in called Burkittsville in Maryland.  You knew about Steve’s obsession with the paranormal, and the legends that surrounded certain locations, so you told him about your hometown legend—the Blair Witch. You hadn’t been back since you were a kid, but you watched his face light up when you talked about the lore, and all of the possibilities for filming. 

Although Steve had his camera crew of one sorted, he would and could never travel without his partner in crime and in love, Eddie Munson. The metalhead stands now looking out over the cemetery with his black and white flannel over a Bark at the Moon Ozzy Osbourne concert tee, and his hair tied back in a bandana, being the supportive boyfriend. He clamps a hand on Steve’s shoulder to give it a squeeze. “You got this, big boy. Let’s rock ‘n roll.”

Tall grass yields underfoot as you all make your way around the space, bending down to try and read the crumbling grave markers.  

There is a staggering amount of tiny, decaying gravestones, each dedicated to a child who lost their life to unknown, yet presumably horrifying circumstances.

“Shit,” Steve mutters under his breath.  “There’s a lot of kids here.” You film his profile as he says it, shifting the focus back to get Eddie in the frame, and he shoots his tongue out, putting his forefinger and pinky up to make devil horns. 

Steve does a monologue for the camera.  He’s standing on the hill near one of the taller headstones, and the wind makes his hair unruly.  “Here we are in the town of Burkittsville, formerly Blair. As legend has it, around 1785, a Blair resident named Elly Kedward was accused of practicing witchcraft by several children. The children said that she had dragged them from their homes with the intention of drinking their blood. As you can see, there is an unusually large number of children buried on this hill.”

You film different headstones, making sure to capture the stone angel, and a few of the other statues, to splice into the film while Steve is talking for the final cut.  

Interviews with some of the long-time residents in town are next, and in the car ride down the hill, Eddie holds the camera and turns it on you in the back seat.  You cover your face at first, not wanting to be recorded, but he eases you out of it with some of his playful banter.  “Since we’re interviewing people who grew up here, we should start with you, right? What is your experience with the Blair Witch?”

You’d talked about the stories you’d heard so often with Steve, but being in the spotlight made you nervous, and it took a second to find your words.  “No personal experiences, really, but I’ve heard a lot of lore.  Ghost stories, mostly. Stuff to scare us kids so we’d go to bed early.” You shift in your seat and look out the window, but Eddie is waiting for more.  “I, um, well…”

“Leave her alone, Eddie,” Steve responds absently, flipping the blinker to turn into town. The song Season of the Witch by Donovan is on the radio and Steve’s mumbling the lyrics.

“No, it’s okay,” you flex a quick smile.  “If it helps, I mean, I was 8 years old when we left, I don’t know a lot other than what I’ve researched.”

“Your audience is waiting,” Eddie zooms the focus in way too much so that your eyes take up the whole frame.  

“Okay,” you start. “So I guess there were these two guys who were hunting once, up by the cabin Blair Witch is supposed to haunt, and they just disappeared off the face of the earth. Search parties combed the woods for weeks and couldn’t find a trace of them.”

“Maybe they realized they were in love and ran away together,” Eddie chuckles, pushing the heel of his hand into Steve’s shoulder.  

You smile down at your lap. “Could be.”

“One more thing,” Eddie looks at you over the top of the camera and then puts his eye back down to focus.  “Is there a chance we could all end up victims of the Blair Witch?”

You can’t tell if it’s a serious question, but it gives you chills.  Your eyes flick from the camera to the back of Steve’s head and his messy flop of hair.  

“I personally don’t believe in ghosts or witches,” you smile as you say it, and catch Steve’s quick glance at you in the rearview mirror.  “But don’t tell Steve.”

Eddie snorts and puts the camera in his lap but forgets to turn it off. 

“I’m really looking forward to proving you wrong,” Steve’s muffled voice says to you as Eddie rustles the camera down between his legs.  “There’s some spooky shit going on in those woods, and I’m going to get it on film.”

First night, The Motel 

The map of the forest is spread out across the thin, floral spread of the motel bed. Eddie and you stare down at it, identically flicking your eyes across the inked locations, each mirroring the same dazed look of cluelessness. 

“I think, if we start here and then make our way north we’ll get to here,” Steve then circles the center vigorously before saying, “by midday.” 

On the map it's easy to believe the forest only stretches a few miles and Steve’s plan so far seems simple enough, promising this hike to be quick. With the action plan sorted, a large pizza shared, and your survival packs spilling out with textbook necessities, it gives the three of you the rest of the evening to chill. This downtime allows you to mess about a bit and accidentally fill some of the tape space with personal footage. 

You’ve decided to sprawl out on one of the two double beds, propping yourself up on your elbow to film Steve and Eddie’s tiny little tickle fight that started over Steve being adamant that he wasn’t and would never be ticklish. Eddie knows just the right areas on his ribs to challenge with his deft fingers, making Steve squirm and beg for him to stop, while Eddie chuckles and pounces on top of him, making the cheap bed springs squeak.

“Hey, put the camera away,” Steve spots you, and then attempts to lunge off the bed and grab the camera. But you lift it out of his reach with a mischievous giggle.  

Eddie smiles along with you, his gaze falling with admiration on the way Steve’s cheeks turn a rosy pink at the exhilaration.  He throws a wink your way and pokes his tongue at Steve’s back, grabbing his ankle to keep him from leaving the bed. 

“Stevie, have you seen my lighter?” A few minutes later, you start filming again as Eddie is wandering the room in nothing but a pair of boxers and an unzipped hoodie.

“Are you going to smoke now?” Steve asks, checking the batteries in his flashlight.

“What’s wrong with now?”

“Well, you know,” Steve unsubtly tips his head in your direction, worried that you may not be comfortable.

“Oh, no I don’t mind”, you say, not wanting your inexperience to ruin the mood. It makes Eddie raise an eyebrow, your choice of words being music to his ears. 

“See Steve, if anything she’s probably curious,” he extends both hands to you as if you were a prize at the fair.

Eddie bounces on the balls of his feet and begins to dig through his pack's front pocket before retrieving a baggy of rolled joints. He pats around in his vest and produces a green plastic lighter with a triumphant, “a-ha!”

It’s been a while since you’d smoked weed, and you weren’t even sure you liked it, but Eddie’s contagious energy made you want to be a part of whatever he was doing.  He squints as he inhales, holds it, and then passes the joint to you between pinched fingers before releasing a generous plume of smoke. 

You took what you thought was a tiny drag, but it tickles the back of your throat and sends you into a coughing spasm, making you bat your chest with the palm of your hand after handing the joint back. 

“Can’t handle it sweetheart?” Eddie snickers, but then he wiggles his eyebrows at you and takes another drag for himself, passing you a bottle of water from the bedside table. The cap is off and some of it sloshes onto his hand.

“Oh, wait, I have something better,” Eddie says, jumping off the bed to snatch a fifth of whiskey out of his bag.  “Shots?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Steve adjusts his glasses and pulls back the comforter on his side of the bed to get cozy.  “Just one. We have a long day tomorrow.”

You shrug and nod, eyes bloodshot and watering, while Eddie puts the bottle to his lips and chugs a shot first before handing it to you.  You swallow a big gulp, and Eddie howls at the way your face screws up like you’d just sucked on a lemon.

“Here’s to the Blair Witch,” Steve holds the bottle up before he takes his drink.  “May she grace us with her presence tomorrow.”

Black Hills Forest, Day one, 9am

“Are we filming?” Eddie chimes in, practically vibrating with excitement.  

“The green light is on,” you mumble to yourself, frowning down at the screen on the camera that shows nothing but black.  

“Hey, Indiana Jones,” you call over to Steve who is checking the direction of the wind with a licked finger as he squints into the sun filtering through the dead leaves.  “What am I doing wrong?”

Steve adjusts the strap of his hiking pack and strolls over to you with a tight clench between his eyebrows.  “Give it here,” he sighs, taking it from you. “I just tested it this morning, I know it’s—”

He finally sees the problem and halts.  He makes somber eye contact with you, takes the cover off the lens and holds it up.

“Oh,” you bite the inside of your cheek, stifling a self-conscious laugh. 

“Steve Angelica Harrington,” Eddie grins, throwing his arm around Steve aggressively, almost knocking him over.  “Our hero.”

You lift the camera up to your eye and get both of them in the frame, leaning back to smile at the pair.  Steve shrugs away from Eddie’s attention as if he doesn’t like it, but then there is a moment when he turns and the two almost kiss.  Eddie gives a few exaggerated, puckered smooches and leans in. 

Steve realizes you’re filming and pushes his boyfriend off for real this time, running a hand through his hair to fix himself.  Restless as ever, Eddie comes around to take the camera from you, asks you where certain buttons are, and then points it in your direction.  You shrug him away playfully and shield your face from the nose down with the crook of your arm as if you are Dracula holding your cape.

Steve pops his knee out and tilts his head. “Would you two dorks stop messing around and take this witch hunt seriously? I want this documentary to be a success.”

“So remind me, King Steve,” Eddie turns the camera on his boyfriend, and he does not look amused.  “We’re trying to find the ghost of some child murdering witch from the 1700’s? Should I be trying to spot a gingerbread house too?”

Off camera, you snort and say, “idiot,” under your breath.  

“Eddie,” Steve keeps his profile to the camera, refusing to make eye contact. “Let’s get some footage first and then I’ll let you mess around with the camera.”  He doesn’t want a bunch of adolescent jibber jabber on film. .  

“What, I’m just trying to be helpful,” Eddie shrugs with puppy dog eyes, lowering the device.

He forgets to turn off video again, and as it angles at the ground. Audio catches a distinct sound, like a soft moan, from somewhere in the woods.

Steve holds his hand up for everyone to halt, freezing in place, and a small twig snaps under his foot.  

You open your mouth to speak, something about how it would be better to get a shot of Steve in the clearing, but you are swiftly shushed.

You motion to take the camera from Eddie, and then you point it at Steve, and he turns to you, right in the camera’s eye. His tone is dire:  “Can you hear that humming?” 

“I can’t—” Eddie blurts, but then Steve puts the palm of his hand tight over Eddie’s mouth, wrapping his fingers over his chin, knowing that it was impossible for him to stay quiet under pressure.

Your heart is racing as you concentrate, ears straining.  There is the dry shuffle of the breeze rustling the branches, but otherwise, the silence is eerie and vast. 

“Cut it out, Steve, it’s not funny,” you bristle, locking one arm protectively over your chest while the other attempts to hold the camera in place. Steve is darting his attention around the woods, trying to locate the origin of the sound.

Eddie steps back, moving his mouth away from Steve’s muzzle. “It’s just the wind, baby, it’s making you paranoid,” he offers, noticing the way Steve’s face is drained of its color. Bending down to retrieve the map that fell when Steve got manhandled, one of Eddie’s legs flew out behind him dramatically.  A part of you wonders if Eddie and the map are a good combination, however you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

You’re almost positive you heard a voice in the woods as well, but you decide to keep that close to your chest.

The lingering tension finally subsides, and Eddie reaches back for Steve’s hand to keep him moving in the same direction; to coax him out of his racing thoughts.  Not wanting to waste battery life, you turn the camera off and stumble behind them, actively fighting off the urge to glance over your shoulder at whatever might be following in your wake. 

The next few hours consist of hiking through unused paths and trampling muddy footprints, waiting for Steve to find his perfect backdrop to open his documentary. With the car far behind you and your full 360 view being nothing but trees, Steve finally breaks from his determined stroll.  

“Can we do this now?” You lightly prod. For the last half hour, Steve has been trying to find the right spot to stand, and you felt like his perfectionism will be the death of you.  

Steve has that look, the professional one, when he means business. However, for Steve to enter his little documentary presenter zone he wants to stand alone, the trees being his only sidekick. 

“You can go over there now,” Steve gives Eddie a playful nudge. 

His boyfriend has been on his heels this entire time, but now the metalhead jogs over to grab the camera off of you to keep himself busy, while Steve concentrates, pushing his glasses up on his nose, finding his performance space before he begins.

“The town of Blair has been cursed since the 1700’s,” he starts.

Eddie and you share an encouraging nod, adding a dash of support for Steve to continue.  

“They all warn of the Blair witch, the one known to lure children to her home and sacrifice their souls and use their blood as an offering.” Steve starts to find his rhythm, naturally taking small steps backwards, like a guide, forcing the camera to follow.

“Elly Kedward was eventually found and blamed for the towns disappearances and without trial was banished into these woods in the depth of winter to freeze and perish a worser fate than her victims.” 

There’s a climatic wind gust that passes through the trees, almost like the ghost of a victim's warning, sent to bring the hairs on your arms to rise. It makes Eddie grin, Steve’s eyes widen with interest, and you try to contain a violent shiver; the theatrics of nature perfecting the shot. 

Steve pauses to take in his surroundings for dramatic effect before continuing.

“Her twisted end didn’t sit right, the town of Blair began to notice odd occurrences, noises and symbols from the forest. Locals believe she left a curse. They say she is still roaming in these woods to this day, seaking her revenge and enticing lost souls into her portal to show the devil her true power.” 

Steve takes a breath, pausing before opening his mouth to speak again, but Eddie’s attention span has other ideas. 

“Oh wait,  Steve can you do that again, I didn’t press record,” Eddie says as cool as he can muster, biting the inside of his cheek. 

Steve shoves his hand roughly through his hair and holds it there, tempted to rip the hair from his scalp. “For fuck sake Munson.” 

Quickly breaking into a wild grin Eddie says a quick, “joking babe,” fully accepting the harsh shove Steve jabs to his shoulder, but then Eddie decides to up the antics.  He falls to the ground dramatically and starts to wiggle like a worm.

“Help, Help, it’s got me, the witch,” faking a struggle, to which Steve tuts, lodging a twig in his direction and adding a casual, “get over yourself, Munson.”  You dive down to take the camera from Eddie’s extended arms as he rolls to his side, and bite back a grin before giving Steve the signal that he’s on again.

Steve advises Eddie to roam around while he delivers the next part of the story. 

“This legend sits on the border of fiction and fact. It’s chilling, yes, but the stories and facts just don’t add up. A truth needs to be found and today, the legend of the witch will either remain its legendary hoax or a fatal truth may be… Wait, cut.”

“What, why?” You frown, enjoying Steve’s witch hunter mode, but clearly his self doubt has arrived.

“Was it a bit much? I felt like I was entering Eddie’s DND campaign.”

“Hey,” Eddie protests, opening his mouth and eyes wide at the camera and prompting you to snort a laugh at his theatrics. 

The day wages on, the forest becoming your only view for miles as Steve drags his feet, unsatisfied at his findings so far. The consistent checking of his watch is a hint alone that it’s time to set up camp soon.  

By nightfall, the strange noises from earlier were all but forgotten, and you sit with a full belly in front of the crackling fire opposite Eddie.  You film him as he tells one of his wild stories, complete with active hand gestures and cartoonish sounds.  Eddie gets a detail wrong in the tale he is retelling, and so Steve corrects him with a bit of a bored look on his face, as if he’s heard the story told wrong a million times.  You focus the zoom in on Steve’s face as he turns to rest his chin on his shoulder and regard his partner.  There was a deep fondness there in his eyes, even though it is masked for the moment with irritability.  

Eddie decides to get in close, his mouth inches from Steve’s. You watch as he murmurs something that makes Steve crack a smile, and then the two share a kiss, noses rubbing, and you feel like you were intruding on a private moment.  You then decided it was time to give the juice in the camera a rest for the night while you all slept.  Much like the camera you follow in its footsteps and shut off, exaggerating a yawn to catch the pair’s attention. 

Your little hint is not lost on Steve, and it prompts him to pass you a flashlight so you can avoid tripping over the tent's zip on your way to bed. 

Nestled undercover in your downy sleeping bag, you drift in and out of sleep, only faintly hearing the footsteps of the boys before they go into their tent. In the middle of the night, you swear you hear voices, like a distant conversation, but you assume it must be the boys. There’s an ominous but faint cackling that follows it, but by then, you’re already too deep to notice. 

And then suddenly, there’s nothing, just stillness and the dark of the woodland air. 

Day Two, No sight of the road. 

The next day brings more of the same.  Hopeful banter in the morning, which then easily leads into some playful teasing throughout the afternoon. The on and off tones of professionalism to mockery becomes apparent. At one point while filming, Steve in one of his monologues, tense and suspenseful, until the scene was hijacked by Eddie flying through the air to tackle him.  

The light mood progressively gets shadowed, though, as the day wears on and there seems to be little to no chance of getting back to the car before dark.  Steve halts to check the map several times, flustered and angry with himself, while Eddie has a smoke break and you film around, even catching sight of a doll made of sticks hanging from a tree.  

“Steve?” You hum his name over your shoulder, wanting him to see what you see.  

He ignores you at first, biting the side of his thumbnail, and spinning on his heel as he stares down at the compass. When he finally lifts his head, he frowns, confused, but then the doll made of sticks comes into focus and his eyes narrow behind the smudged lenses of his glasses.

“What the hell is that?” Eddie is already on his way over.  He decides to smoke the other joint in his pack instead of one of his Camels, and it is doing wonders for his anxiety.  

Eddie reaches up to touch the doll, but Steve stops him. “Wait!” He notices that his voice is a bit harsh, so he starts again in a calmer tone.  “Listen, we don’t know what it is or who put it there.  I think we should respect the woods and leave it be.”

“Respect the woods?” Eddie barks a laugh, continuing to touch the legs of the doll and turn it around to see how it was made and you watched through the camera lens. 

“I bet some kid made it when their family was out here camping,” Eddie mused, exhaling smoke. “It’s creepy, I like it.”

Steve decides to interfere with his high boyfriends fascination, batting his hand away and in the process accidentally knocking the wooden doll to the floor.

 “Hey, Steve you’ve killed him!” Eddie taunts; mouth agape, eyes accusatory.

Steve really didn’t want to do that and you sense the growing paranoia that he’s experiencing from the way he’s frozen, staring at the little figure now laying twisted on the floor. Eddie pouts and goes to retrieve it once again. 

“Eddie, leave it.” Steve can’t hide his increasing stress, his words strained in between his clenched teeth. He grabs onto Eddie’s pack using it to encourage Eddie to walk in the other direction.

Steve prays this is the right way. He sends you a weak smile, and you know him well enough to deduce that he is feeling embarrassed that he doesn’t have you out of the woods yet.  

 As the sunlight dwindles, a bitter sense of reality begins to creep up on you. The branches above lose their subtle shadows and the once benign tree clusters begin to morph into something otherworldly. 

When it is finally time to make camp again, it is all any of you could do not to think about the stories you’d recorded from the townspeople the other day.  In particular the one about the killer who would take kids down into his basement two at a time, and make one wait in the corner while he killed one, and then would kill the one in the corner.  He didn’t like their eyes on him, apparently, that’s why he made them stare at the wall.

The darkness is crowding in, giving tiny nudges to everyone's paranoia that you are not alone in that forest.  There was a presence that tickled in barely audible whispers as the night claimed its position and every howl of the wind was a possible threat.  

Not a lot of filming took place during the down time by the fire. It was as if the courage to speak the stories had vanished and the myths began to seep into their reality. Less words exchanged and a few uncertain glances shared with Steve, but Eddie remained stoic and chilled, maintaining his energy. 

The plan of action is the last conversation you share, Steve taking control and promising that you’ll all be back in town by tomorrow afternoon. 

The sound of the boys getting situated in their tent was comforting, and you giggled when Eddie farted and tried to blame it on a passing wildebeest.  But, things got quiet quickly—too quiet—and soon you could hear the faint hiss of Steve’s snore and you realized that having your own tent was not all it was cracked up to be.

An owl hooted, but along with its natural call there was something else out there making sounds.  Was that the humming Steve had mentioned the day before?  Straining to listen, the noise was followed by an unmistakable cackle that made you grab the flashlight and a pillow and scurry out of  your tent like it was on fire.  

“Um-guys,” you were pulling open the flap to their tent before either of them could answer. “Is there any possibility i could squeeze in your tent tonight, i was a-a bit cold on my own.” 

Eddie sits up, groggily, from where he had his head on Steve’s chest, as if he’d fallen asleep the second he closed his eyes, and scoots away to make room for you in the middle.

Feeling safer nestled between your two friends, you are finally able to let yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep that offers no reprieve from the shadows in your mind.

Later that night, scattered and confused, another bizarre noise caught your attention, jarring you awake. 

A blanket of dark coats the inside of the tent, but after a few fuzzy blinks you easily make out that  Steve is sitting up with the flap of the tent open. He’s crouched over, the faint shake of his hands holding the camera a dead giveaway to his unease.

Sensing that you are awake, he tilts his head to the side to acknowledge you, and then signals for you to listen. 

“Did you hear that?” You whisper, not wanting to wake Eddie who is offering soft snores next to you.  

Steve puts a finger to his lips, and then turns back around with the camera pointed out into the night.

Somehow he manages to convince himself that the noise is from a deer or squirrel. Due to your delirious state, this information settles your tired worry and allows you to snuggle down, eager for the morning light. 

Day Three, Walking in Circles

With no idea how long Steve remained awake last night, there’s a part of you that feels he’s hiding something to protect you. The next morning his raw, uplifting nature dwindled, his inner doubts coming to the surface to pinch the skin between his eyebrows. 

“I’m sorry I dragged you all out here,” Steve announces with a heavy sigh, staring down at the remnants from the fire. Eddie angles the camera up at him while you zip a few things into your knapsack. “We’ll be having lunch back in town in a few hours, but let’s keep adding to the footage as we go.”

Steve shows you on the map where you were all headed, tapping his finger in the spot where you’d parked the car.  “Two hours, tops,” he promises.  

Eddie gets to his feet and adjusts the focus so that Steve goes from blurry to clear to blurry again. “Battery life on this thing is low and I can’t find the portable charger.”

Steve turned on him, jaw muscles tensing, ready to let an angry word slip.

“The charger is right here,” you corrected, lifting it out of the bag it was in to show Steve and calm his nerves. Once Steve steps away to check the compass again, Eddie makes a face at you, tongue darting out from the side of his mouth, letting you know that he knew it was there, he just wanted to give Steve a hard time.  

“I have a question for you, sir,” Eddie rushes up behind Steve and taps his shoulder, making him turn away from the lens, bringing a hand up to block his face. “How do you feel about this Blair Witch hunt so far?”

Steve smooths the sides of his hair back and squares his shoulders, determined to look unbothered.  “I feel good,” he lied. “I feel like I know exactly where we are and we just need to head east for another couple miles.  Everything's going as planned, we’re just a little behind schedule, that’s all.”

You open the canteen around your neck and gulp down a few swigs of water, musing that there wasn’t much left, and you needed to find a fresh stream somewhere soon, just in case.

But, it was only a passing worry, because Steve’s confidence that you’d be back at the car in a few hours gave you an unhealthy helping of blind hope. 

When you finally find the water line, there is a fallen tree across the creek, and it happens to be the only way across.  You have the worst balance, and being suspended over moving water makes you nervous in a way that has your hands trembling.  Eddie carries the camera for you, strapping around his neck as he makes his way across like an acrobat, and then Steve follows behind you, whispering words of encouragement.  

Hours later, it’s high noon when Steve makes you all stop for a rest to take your packs off so that he can check the map again.  You happen to be filming him as a flex of panic flashes across his face.  

“Why does this spot feel so familiar?” He asks it under his breath, but the audio catches it.  

It was the same spot you’d started from earlier in the day; same stump, same bundle of dead branches next to a large boulder. Steve turns on his heel and you can see in his face the way his heart stops when he sees the impressions from the previous night’s tent pegs.

“How is this possible?” He whispers. “We’ve been going straight all day, following the compass.”

“Give me that,” Eddie storms by, yanking the map from Steve to sit down on the big stump to look at it while he has a smoke.  “This shit is Greek to me,” he admits, hollowing out his cheeks to take in all of the nicotine his lungs would allow. “Are you telling me we’ve been going in circles?”

You squat next to Eddie, filming him while he glowers at the lines on the paper, hair tied back in a messy ponytail.  This was the crankiest you’d ever seen him, and you’d known him for at least a year at that point. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that there were only 3 cigarettes left, and his pack a day habit was at risk of being tested without nicotine patches or comfort.  

He realizes you are recording and flinches away, blowing smoke out his nostrils.  “Put that thing away please.  I’m not in the mood.”

Steve split the last half of a squished peanut butter sandwich into 3 parts and passed one to each of you, but Eddie refuses his.  You stare up at Steve, waiting for his word that you should stop, but he shakes his head.  “She’s doing exactly what I told her to do, Eddie. We’re filming a documentary.”

“Oh, we’re filming a documentary about being lost now? Is that what this is? Because we are, we’re fucking lost.”

 Eddie grumbles, exhaling an agitated breath.

“We’re not.” Steve’s voice is gruff as he pushes the food into his cheek with his tongue.  “I know exactly where we are.  The car is right over that way, through the trees, I’m positive.”

“Yeah, well, you said that yesterday morning and last night and four fucking hours ago,” Eddie shot to his feet with a huff, keeping the butt of his smoke clenched between his lips to button up the front of his black and red flannel. 

“Shouldn’t you know where we are?” Eddie’s penetrating gaze falls on you, and for some reason, it makes you nervous.  “I know you said you were just a kid, but you grew up here right? So, you must have some idea?”

You glance nervously over at Steve, as if to ask for support, and then focus the camera back on Eddie as you stammer.  “I–I don’t ever remember coming out here. Once maybe, but—”

“Really Eddie?” Steve turns to his boyfriend. “You expect her to have a Magellan sense of direction in these woods because she lived nearby when she was a child? You get lost in Hawkins and you’ve lived there your whole life.”

Eddie mumbles something as he straps the last part of his pack on and starts walking, without a word, heading in the direction Steve suggested, kicking at the dirt as he goes.  

“I’m sorry about this,” Steve mutters to you as he offers his hand and helps you stand. “I should’ve had you home safe by now.”

“It’s okay, I trust you. I promise I really don’t know these woods that well,” your voice is small.  Your eyes are softly pleading when they find his, as if to beg for absolute reassurances.

But, Steve has nothing verbal to give.  His throat is dry, he hates fighting with Eddie, and his pride was taking quite a catastrophic blow—on film, no less. He squeezes your arm, and continues at a fast trot to catch up with his salty partner, pulling you along with him.  

A few hours later, the sky opened up and it started to rain, and as you ducked to follow the boys into the clearing to reluctantly set up camp, you trip over a pile of rocks and almost drop the camera.

“What the hell is this?” You mused aloud, adjusting the focus, establishing that it was, indeed, just a pile of rocks, but there was something…odd about them.  They’d been stacked up by hand in the shape of a mound. 

Steve and Eddie were up ahead, standing in close proximity, having a conversation in tense whispers while Eddie found the driest patch of ground under the canopy of trees to shake the tent out.  It was only drizzling now, and he was eager to set up some type of shelter in case the downpour started again.

Steve moves the hood of his yellow rain slicker back to check where you were, and then comes over to see what you’d found.  

“There’s a couple of them,” you point out, stepping back so he could view the others, “What was it that one woman in town said about stacks of rocks? Something to do with a signal, or warning maybe.” 

Turning, you see Steve frantically dig through his bag, only letting out a satisfied hum when he retrieves his notebook. Its spiral-bound pages hold all of the key points from interviews of people back in town. You can tell he’s proud of you for having the intuition to know that these stacks might be important.  

“Remember that woman we spoke to at the trailer park?” Steve asks, biting his lip in thought.

“The weird one? Mary?” You wonder aloud. 

Steve snaps his fingers in excitement, flicking to the right page in his notes. 

“Yes! Crazy Mary.  I wasn’t paying much attention to her because I thought she was insane, but I’m sure she mentioned something to do with rock piles?”

“What’s your notes say?” You lean in to see what the camera can catch on the paper.

“Not a lot. I’ve just written ‘Bible Story about rocks’”.

You try your hardest to remember, whispering to yourself and attempting to remember what the eccentric woman had said. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” you begin. “But, didn't she say something like, they symbolize a promise, like if you promise not to cross the rocks nothing can harm you and vice versa from the one who put them there. Ancient truce type agreement?”

“I mean it sounds right, but why are there three?”

“I'm not sure?”

Steve waves Eddie over, but he isn’t interested.  He’d gone into full-on “if I don’t keep busy I’m going to lose my shit” mode, dropping to his knees in the mud to hammer in the tent pegs.

Steve sighs, feeling like Eddie probably needs a bit of attention and comfort before his mood swing completely erupts. In his process of turning away from the rocks his booted foot catches a pebble, sending the pile toppling over, but he doesn’t think to give it any attention.

Panicking in his wake, you shield the camera from the rain and re-pile the pebbles back in a formation that you hope they resembled. 

You eat the last of the canned vienna sausages by the fire and no one is in the mood for jokes, but Steve does reassure everyone, especially with an arm around his boyfriend’s stiff shoulders, that you all would be out of the forest by the next afternoon.  You film it, catching the way Eddie pulls away at first but then leans in to rest his head on top of Steve’s and they both stare into the fire with glossy eyes.  

You didn’t even bother setting your tent up that evening, and you snuggle on the outside of the boys this time, curling up next to Steve while he spoons Eddie.  

For the first hour or two, everything is peaceful, and the three of you sink into shallow sleep, only to be jared awake by Steve stumbling out of his sleeping bag, stepping on both of his companions in the process.  

“Holy fuck, did you hear that?” He hisses, moving to unzip the tent.  “I need to get out there, hand me the camera.”

“Steve!” You bark a harsh whisper.

“Goddamn it,” Eddie starts putting his boots on, half asleep, not wanting Steve to go out alone. “It’s just a bunch of fucking deer or something, baby, will you just—”

But then, you all hear it.

As loud and as clear as if there were people standing right outside your tent: a cackle of laughter, heavy steps crunching in the leaves, snapping twigs, echoing from the forest floor.  And then there is the distinct cry of a little kid—maybe two, three different little kids. It all echoed back into the woods as if it’s in your ears and far away all at once. 

With the tent flap half open and one foot out, Steve shoots a look back at the two of you, nostrils flaring as he stills for more noise.  “Did you hear those kids?” He huffs, snatching the camera and ducking down to bolt out of the tent. 

“Baby, there are no kids in these woods!” Eddie lunges after him, catching Steve’s calf to pull him back in.  He stumbles back under cover into a crouch, only to “shush” everyone again, certain that he heard something else.

It’s then that the tent begins to shake and jostle, and the cackling continues, but it’s right on top of you now, circling the enclosure.

“Holy shit, holy fuck,” Eddie wails, pushing Steve out of the tent this time, and reaching back for your hand as he exits.

“Go go go!” You demand, encouraging them both to run as far and fast as they could from the campsite. 

Everyone is stumbling and cursing, running in the dark, with the light of the camera Steve’s holding being the only illumination.  He trips over something with a curse, and Eddie helps him up while you take the camera, not caring where the lens points as you run along with the boys, as fast as your feet can carry you.  

Not a sound follows you, not a single footstep or snicker.  Eventually, you all collapse breathless in a huddle, hunkering down near a tree.

Eddie looks into the camera you hold. “Turn that light off,” he’s panting, pupils pinned. “Shut it all off, stay the fuck down.”

“Keep the audio on,” Steve whispers, to which he gets a shove in the shoulder from Eddie.

“I can’t believe you’re still trying to film your movie, dude,” Eddie hushes curtly.

“Shutup!” You scold them both, turning the camera off.

You all sit frozen in place, holding onto each other in a football huddle for—god knows how long? Two hours maybe.  Daylight finally begins to break, prompting Steve to motion you to get the camera rolling again. 

Day Four, No Way Home

The three of you stay close, too frightened to be even a meter apart as you make your way back in the direction of camp. You’re cold, wet and done; so over this witch hunt and ready to put it behind you. 

After a while of weary steps and nervous glances around, Eddie’s tongue clicks, breaking the silence. “There are some hillbillies in these woods trying to fuck with us, and I don’t want to fuck with that.”

Steve looks up at him.  “But what if it’s something…not human?”

“Well, I don’t want to fuck with that either,” Eddie runs both hands through his hair, intertwining his fingers on top of his head as he walks.

You decide to chime in. “Something definitely does not want us here.”

“No kidding, Sherlock.” Eddie blows a raspberry and turns his back on the two of you.

“Something?” Steve cocks his head at you. “But I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts or witches?”

“I don’t,” you swallow hard, averting your eyes.  “But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“Okay, we’re going,” Steve answers, meeting Eddie’s hard stare over your shoulder with defiance.  “We got what we came for, let’s get our shit and keep heading north.”

“Are you sure north is the direction we need to go in?” You ask, cringing through the beginning stages of a headache.  “Because we were headed north all day yesterday and it didn’t get us anywhere.”

When the campsite finally comes into view again, everyone stops short, each jaw going slack in disbelief.

“uhhh, what the fuck is this?” Eddie mumbles, stomping over to look at the way the tent has been squashed, and how everyone’s things have been thrown around.  Whoever or whatever had been taunting you all a few hours ago had made a mess of all of your things; there was clothing and gear tossed in every direction.

You ran across the campsite, eyes searching. “Where is my pack?” The question caught in your throat, as if you might cry.  

“Your pack is right there,” Eddie points.  “More importantly, Where is my pack?”

Everyone starts collecting what they can find of their personal items while Eddie lifts up his open canteen from the ground.  “They dumped all the fucking water out.”

He realizes that the canteen is also coated in something and he drops it with a curse. “Is that fucking slime? It is, there is some kind of slime all over it,” he raises his hand up to look at the viscous liquid and then rubs it off on his pant leg as best as he could.

“Im not fucking about anymore Steve, okay I believe it all, you happy? This shit, whatever it is, whoever it is, doesn’t want us here.”

Eddie’s right, this is a clear warning, an intentional attack, and for once Steve’s not looking excited at the product of evidence before you all. Steve turns towards you, your kneeling figure scooping up your pack—it had been thrown to the other side of the campsite, but nothing seemed to be missing.

Before he could question it, the whining sound of Eddie pricks his ears. Swiftly turning to face whatever tantrum the curly haired boy is throwing now, Steve is faced with Eddie frantically picking up scattered pieces of clothing. 

“Woah, babe, is that all your clothes?” Steve asks in a rush, moving closer.

“Yep”. Eddie doesn’t even want to converse. 

“Just yours though Eddie? No one else's?”

“This is bullshit!” Eddie throws the canteen down and it bounces further away.

Steve moves to reach out and touch Eddie’s arm, but his hand gets slapped away.  “Leave me alone, dude. I need a second.”

You turn the camera off while everyone collects their things and tries to catch their breath.  You were all officially out of food now, with the exception of some peanuts, and a detour needed to be made to get water from the creek.  Eddie refused to use his after it was slimed, but thankfully Steve had an extra one.

When the camera comes back on, it is a couple hours later, and Steve is holding it this time to film Eddie enjoying his last smoke, while you sit with your head against a tree and your eyes closed.  No one is in the mood for talking, and it is wise to conserve energy with very few resources at your disposal.

“A hamburger and fries sounds nice,” you said to break the silence with your eyes still closed.

“Mmmhmm,” Eddie concurred. “A big can of Spaghetti-O’s would hit the spot right now.”

Steve points the camera at his hiking boots as he steps closer, indulging in the fantasy. “I’ve been craving one of those clam chowder bread bowls like we had on the wharf in San Francisco.” 

“That was some good shit,” Eddie mumbles, sucking his smoke all the way down to the filter. 

The camera turns off again, and when it comes back on, you have it.  Eddie is charging ahead, waving his arms, shouting something about how you all need to follow the creek and you’ll end up somewhere eventually.

“Hey,” Steve is walking in front of you, but he turns around.  “Can you pass me the map? I want to check something.”

“Yeah, hold on,” you say, but then you reach back and realize you can’t feel the well-worn edges, and sudden, prickling dread takes over. Panicked, you reach around to check the other pocket, coming to realize the map is gone. 

“Are you sure you gave it to me Steve?” you lighty question, knowing that right now is no time for jokes. 

Steve gives you an exasperated look, as if you are goofing with him like Eddie might.  “Yes, you have the map, you always have the map.  I gave it to you after a map-check before we made camp yesterday.”

You kneel on the ground and put the camera down to do a proper search, your heart racing.  “Eddie,” you shout, making him stop abruptly in his tracks.  “Do you have the map?”

“Me?” Eddie turns around but stays yelling from a distance.  “Why the hell would I have it? It was fucking useless anyway.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve pats the air with his hands, trying to calm the meltdown he can feel building. His attention returns to you as you stand without a map in your hand and a worried look on your face.  “I know I gave it to you,” Steve reiterates. “It has to be somewhere in your stuff.”

You don't want to say what you are thinking, as you stand, pointing the camera at Steve again, but it comes out anyway.  “What if whoever attacked the tent took it?”

Steve grimaces.  “What would they want with…our map?”

“To make sure we have no chance of finding our way out of here,” you say it under your breath, and through the lens, you watch Steve’s jaw go slack as he takes on that possibility.  

When realization dawns that you were about to lose light and need to make camp again, a thick blanket of anxiety and agitation falls over all of you.  You are dragging your feet, camera angle pointed at the ground while the boys get the tent out.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” Eddie mumbles curtly, brow furrowing, and back teeth grinding as the nicotine withdrawal nips at him.  

You mention that you’ll go and gather some branches to make a fire, but Steve puts his hand out to stop you.  “Let’s not make a fire tonight.  We don’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

“Good idea,” Eddie grunts. “I’d rather freeze to death in a few hours than spend one more day fumbling around this hellscape.” He is digging through his things in Steve’s pack to see if there happens to be a stray cigarette or joint anywhere.  The frustrated anger rising in him is palpable.

“It’ll be a while before I ever go camping again, that’s for sure,” you muse to the group, and both the boys respond with enthusiastic nods of agreement. 

“I’m gonna burn this tent when we get home,” Eddie bites out.

When you turn to Steve, he is rubbing his forehead and staring down at the ground, pensively, and you ask if you should stop filming for a bit.  

Steve glosses over your question and asks another: “You promise you don’t have the map? Because if you have it, and you were just saying you lost it to be funny, I won’t be mad.”

You lower the camera so that it’s focused on his chest and the army green utility jacket he’s wearing.  “I’ve checked my pack three times,” you offer, earnestly. “I promise, I don’t have it.  I wish I did, Steve.”

In the background, Eddie curses at the top of his lungs and one of the tent pegs he’d been fumbling with goes flying through the air. “I’m so fucking done with this! Holy shit, what the hell are we still doing out here? This is fucking insane.” 

Steve motions for you to keep filming.  He’d tease Eddie about all of this later, he knew he would.  He’d also use it as fodder for the argument of why he should quit smoking altogether.

Steve turns toward his boyfriend with his hands on his hips. “I know you blame me for all of this, and I’m sorry. What do you want me to say? We’re all tired and hungry and miserable.”

Eddie snaps around, eyes dark and his body rigid.  “You bet your fucking ass I blame you! You’re the reason we’re about to get flayed by a bunch of inbred mountain people or die of starvation out here in this shitty-ass excuse for a forest.”

“You begged me to let you come on this trip, Eddie,” Steve is doing his best to keep his voice low, because matching Eddie’s tone when he gets upset never helps the situation. “Like you said, if we follow the creek, we’re bound to end up somewhere. It’s impossible to get lost for too long in America these days.”

Eddie’s nostrils flare.  “I begged you? I practically agreed under false pretenses one night when you had my dick in your mouth, I didn’t beg for shit.  I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend and watch him work, but that was back when I thought you were talented.  Now I realize you’re just a hack who can’t even read a fucking map.”

He regrets it the second it leaves his lips, and you can see it in the way the corners of his mouth turn down. “I didn’t mean that,” Eddie whispers.

You step back from the two, not sure what type of conflict is about to ensue.

You can tell it hurts Steve by the way his eyes water, and he pushes his glasses up to rub his face.  “No, you’re right,” Steve sighs, “It is my fault.  But maybe if you weren’t such a big, needy baby all the fucking time, I might have been able to think clearly on this trip.”

“I’m the needy baby? Seriously?  So what, little miss perfect over there gets let off the hook because she’s your perfect little puppet?”

“Hey, no need to bring her into this.”

“Guys!” You shout, waiting until they both look at you.  “This isn’t helping, okay? I for one am scared shitless about what else might be out here in these woods, and if we don’t stick together, we don’t have a chance.”

There is a minute long silence while everyone tries  to shake the anxiety out of their shoulders. Steve comes over to let you know you can turn the camera off, but then the sound of Eddie’s laughter makes you both turn.  

He’s bent over, hands on his knees, laughing so hard he is sucking in dry air.

You and Steve share an amused look, 

“What’s so funny, baby?” Steve asks, cracking a bit of a smile.

Eddie stands, face red from exertion. “You and that fucking map. I got rid of it yesterday! What do you think about that?” Eddie then convulses into giggles again, walking off into the other direction.

“You did what?” Both you and Steve say in unison.

Surely, you’d both misheard him.

“Yeah,” Eddie continues. “I kicked that fucker into the creek, it was useless!”

“You son of a bitch,” Steve spat, lunging at him. “How could you do that to me? To us?”

You catch Steve’s arm, trying to hold the camera and him all at once. The last thing you need is for these two to get into a physical fight.

Eddie starts to walk further away, but then he stops to turn on his heel and face the two of you, deciding to fight his case a little more. “We just kept going in circles, it wasn’t helping us!”

“You knew I was going crazy looking for it! Why didn’t you say anything?” Steve yells after him. 

In the distance, you see Eddie shrug, before matter of factly stating, “I need to go for a walk.”

“But it will be dark in a half hour,” panic bubbling in your chest. “Eddie…wait!” 

Eddie waves his arm in the air and keeps going.  

“Let him go,” Steve touches your shoulder, “he gets like this sometimes. Let him walk it off, we’ll finish setting up.”

Steve has an overwhelming desire to run after his partner, to say, “hey, stop, I love you,” but none of that ever happened.  He knew when it was best to let Eddie cool off.

He knows Eddie won’t go far, he’ll be back in a few minutes.

When you turn the camera back on, an hour later, Eddie is still not back.

There is a soft, orange glow from the sunset through the trees, but other than that, it’s pitch black out. Locking arms with Steve, he dances the beam of his flashlight around the forest while you film with the camera light on, trying to remain within visual distance from camp.

Steve had already screamed Eddie’s name so many times, his voice was becoming hoarse.

 “If you’re fucking with us, Eddie, I swear to Christ I will never ever forgive you!” He starts to imagine Eddie is crouched down by a tree somewhere, covering his mouth to hold back the hilarity of watching his boyfriend almost shit his pants looking for him.

Steve tries to break free from your linked arms, attempting to charge deeper into the woods.

“Steve, no!” You squeak, desperation present in your tone. You shift the camera to the crook of your arm, so it angles up at his horrified face. You really don't want anything bad to happen to Eddie, but you also can’t let anything bad happen to Steve. 

Steve suddenly turns to face you, eyes wild.  “But what if he’s hurt somewhere, what if he’s…damn it Eddie!...what if…”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence, you already know what he is thinking. What if the myths of the forest were true? What if there was an entity in the woods that fed on fear and needed a sacrifice every so often? What if there were hillbillies in pig masks carrying chainsaws and they often resorted to cannibalism? You’d watched too many horror movies in your life and so had Steve, and it wasn’t helping either one of you at that moment.

But, to be fair, it wasn’t all just in your head.  There is definitely something or someone else out there with all of you, and maybe it was just biding its time until all of you are broken.   

Eddie’s missing.  An hour later, it’s official.  

He wasn’t hiding or playing a game; he had somehow vanished into thin air. The guilt begins to creep and crawl, festering inside Steve’s chest, the buzzing of night insects heightening his sense of dread. 

You’d manage to coax Steve back to the tent. “We’ll go back and build a fire, so that he can see the light of it if he’s lost.”

“I’m not going to stop looking for him,” Steve mutters, screaming Eddie’s name again as he walks, his voice echoing off the emptiness as the cold air burns his lungs. He was too pumped full of fear and adrenaline to cry, but the tears were building behind his eyes. “It’s freezing out here and he’s only got that flannel on.”

“Listen to me,” you yank Steve around to look at you, being rougher than you ever have with him, but your eyes are kept soft.  “It would be very easy for us to get lost in these woods ourselves.  What if Eddie makes it back to camp and we’re gone?”

You let that sink in, hoping you can reason with him.  You notice that his shoulders relax.

“I bet he went a little too far and he can’t find his way back in the dark,” you continue.

  “He probably found some shelter to wait it out for the night.  He’ll be cold, but it’s not going to freeze, he’ll survive. We can go out and look for him at first light.”

Steve starts nodding to himself as he pans the flashlight beam over the forest again.  “A fire is a good idea, so he knows where we are.”

The active denial grips the both of becoming a makeshift coping mechanism, a way to hold onto hope when there seems to be none left.  You have a bad feeling that you may never see Eddie alive again, but you plan on keeping up pretenses for Steve for as long as you could.

 “We’ll find him, Steve,” you don’t want to lie to him, but you felt like it was something he needed to hear.

Steve struggles to meet your eyes, but you can make out a stray tear that’s making tracks across his stubbled cheek and it breaks your heart for him. 

“I didn’t go after him, didn’t even try to convince him to stay. How fucking stupid could I be?”

“No, Steve, you can’t blame yourself, okay, it was an in the moment thing, it’s going to be okay.”

“What part of this whole thing has EVER been okay?”

He turns his back on you and it sends a stinging pang through your chest.  A part of you can’t help but wonder if he’s wishing it were you that went missing. Maybe he’s wishing he never brought you along at all.

With a heavy heart and a signature rake through his hair, Steve shuts his eyes, takes a shaken breath and turns around, inviting you to step into his arms and you hook an arm around his waist. This embrace is welcomed, as you soak up the heavy warmth wrapped around you, making it hard to let go. Seemingly feeling the same, Steve leans in further, soaking up what he presumes is the last moments of peace, a crumb of tranquility. Feeding on the sliver of hope you’ve provided him.

A stuttered sigh slips from Steve’s dry lips.  His next words are nothing but a whisper, but it’s meaningful, and becomes tattooed amongst the trees.

“I can’t lose him,” his voice cracks.

Then, as if on cue, there’s a cry—a whimper of agony erupts from deep in the nothingness.

Steve snaps a look at you and a fist tightens over your heart.  You hold very still, making sure you heard what you thought you did, both wondering if you’d imagined it.

But then another scream follows, this one more drawn out than the first, and it sounds just like Eddie.

Steve braces himself, senses sharp, trying to find the direction the scream is coming from.  “Holy shit, that was him!”

There’s a scuffle as Steve bumps into you in his haste to move.  You almost drop the camera as he bounces off of you, losing his mind over the sound of Eddie's voice, you then scramble to catch the device before it falls to the ground. There’s only muffled noises for a bit as your arm is blocking the microphone and the lens catches the back of Steve’s legs, bolting into the pitch black forest.

“Whatever you do, don’t stop filming!” He shouts over his shoulder.

And then your heart is pounding, jackhammering in your chest as you take after him. Steve’s running, pumping his arms, and then there’s another scream and he catches himself for a full stop, freezing in place.  

The video takes in the side of his face, tears wetting his cheek under his glasses, his head turning in the direction of the scream.  “It’s this way…Eddie!...it’s coming from over there!” He points in that direction, and then his feet follow to a place where the trees get denser.

You glance over your shoulder in the direction of the campsite, wondering if the two of you will be able to find your way back, but then keeping up with Steve becomes a priority.  Breathlessly, you struggle to keep up the pace, you trip and try to avoid falling over tree stumps that are dotted along the path.

“Steve”, you manage to stutter in between sharp breaths, “How do we know, what if- what if it’s a trick. What if it’s not Eddie?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course it's…”

Another scream. 

Steve’s words die on his tongue, as all he can manage is a wide eyed frantic glare into the trees, before attempting once again to scream his boyfriend’s name in vain, begging to catch a glimpse of his frizzed up hair between the branches. 

You both speed up, using all the remaining energy left inside your weak bodies, ignoring the burning in your lungs and metallic taste coating your tongues. 

The woodland flooring begins to create almost a disheveled looking path, a trail appearing out of nowhere. Horrifying possibilities begin to bleed into Steve’s imagination, the memories of the past few days twisting in his mind as he tries to predict what state his boyfriend could be in. 

Steve stops to get his bearings, gulping in breaths.  His stomach clenches like he might puke, but he swallows down bile, hoping for another scream to pierce the night and guide his way.

You catch a glint of something silver nestled in the leaves of the forest floor, and you shine the light down there to get a look.  You swear it’s Eddie’s wallet chain, the one he had on the last time you saw him, but then Steve starts moving again, on the trail of a sound only he could hear.

Running full boar, dodging through the trees, something smacks Steve in the face, and he swats it away, thinking it’s a branch.  But then he takes a step back and looks up. You almost smash straight into the back of him, not realizing he’d stopped so abruptly.  Your camera light brings attention to what Steve is seeing.

Unsettling deja vu is shared between you both as you realize that a cluster of handcrafted stick dolls, like the one you found the other day, are dangling before you. 

Steve’s hand trembles, reaching out to touch the frayed twine from which they hang. 

"Steve, stop," you hiss, your voice is a harsh whisper, eyes darting over the dolls as they sway in the breeze. You can't shake the feeling that you are being watched; that something sinister is lurking just beyond your peripheral vision.

Ignoring you, Steve begins to count the dolls, pointing with his finger, his movements manic, his words a rapid, breathless murmur.

"One, two, three... they're leading somewhere!”

"Steve!" you call out to him desperately, your voice echoing through the forest, falling on blind ears. He starts to follow the primitive stick dolls, and you know you have no choice but to go with him into the unknown, the dread of what lies ahead producing blooms of sweat on your scalp. 

Finally, you emerge into a small clearing. There stands an old, weathered cabin.

 It appears abandoned and worn, its wooden walls covered in moss and ivy, and its windows cracked and shattered. The cabin looms like a forgotten relic of the past, isolated in the dense forest.

“Steve, I-I don’t think this is a good idea”. The air is heavy, and your teeth are chattering.

“Whatever happens,” Steve clicks his tongue and swallows hard, wetting his dry mouth. “Promise me you won’t stop filming.”

“Steve, are you insane?”

He turns to you with wide, earnest eyes, his voice dead calm under the circumstances, “Promise me?” 

You feel like you’ve officially lost him, whatever you attempt to say to change his mind would be useless. “I-I promise.”

Another blood-curdling yelp of agony pierces through the air.

“Eddie, I’m coming!” Steve huffs, motioning for you with a swing of his arm.

You both scramble cautiously onto the cabin’s creaking porch. You decide to zoom the lens in on Steve’s hand, reaching for the rusted doorknob, trying your hardest to focus. 

Dread seizes you, and you attempt to get through to him. “Steve, please, I think I do remember a way out of these woods, actually. What if we go back to the tent, wait till morning and try again?”

You manage to worm your way in between Steve and the door, blocking him now. Steve remains unyielding, shrugging you out of his way, twisting the door knob, and then pushing in the unlocked door. 

“Steve—” Your voice cracks. You want to find Eddie too but there’s something…wrong with this cabin, and you can’t find the words to tell Steve in a way that would make him give up the search.

But then he’s already through the open door, and you stay on his heels. The light from your camera dances over his flashlight beam into the broken floorboards and chipped paint of the interior of the cabin.  

The screaming has stopped, but now the dead silence invades your senses.  There’s no furniture, and the walls are bare. There is a smell lingering that hints to wood rot and black mold and rodent feces. You scan the camera around to show there’s a wide, empty room, and a hallway to the right.

“I-I can’t lose him,” Steve whispers, and your eyes are wet, heart hurting for what this trip has become. You can't let him go in there alone, no matter how much your instincts are telling you to grab him and run in the other direction. 

With each step you take, the cabin seems to expand into a labyrinth of winding corridors, narrow staircases, and hidden rooms. The walls are lined with faded, peeling wallpaper, and the air grows colder and more oppressive with each passing moment. 

But then Steve darts down the dark hallway and up a stairway and you try to follow, tripping on the first step in your hurry.

“He’s in here, I know it,” Steve gasps, and you can only catch his boots before he is already on the next floor.

Eddie’s cry sounds again, and this time there is no mistake— it’s coming from inside the house. 

Two floors up, there are empty rooms, but still no sign of Eddie.  Steve makes a point to direct your attention to the same type of child handprints you’d seen earlier.  “Did you catch these?” He asks pointing to make sure you got the shot.  

It looks like a dozen tiny children had dipped their hands in black paint and made palm impressions all over the wall over the ripped and stained wallpaper.

And then another scream, muffled this time, breaks the silence of your twin haggard breaths, but it is coming from somewhere deep in the cabin now—somewhere below.  You can almost feel the screams vibrate inside the soles of your feet.

The shout is followed by a heavy bang that shakes the walls. It makes you both jump, locking eyes with mirrored expressions of fear.

Without a word, Steve disappears back down the stairs and into the shadows of the second floor. There are no sounds picked up by audio other than Steve calling for Eddie, and you follow, taking two reluctant steps at a time. The weight of uncertainty makes your feet feel like lead, while the lightheadedness of your hunger makes your skull feel like a balloon, and you have to catch yourself on the wall to find your balance, stars crossing in your vision.  

The only sounds now are the heavy thuds of footfalls on the old stairs, and the drumbeat of your heart in your ears. There appear to be looming shapes all around you as you run after Steve, and the camera catches glimpses of things that are unidentifiable sliding along the walls.  

You hear Steve shout, “down here!” and then he is throwing another door open and it sounds like he’s bolting further down in the house, down into what must be a basement.

You think you catch a glimpse of a figure standing in the corner, but when you stumble back and point the camera light there, you realize it’s nothing.

“Steve?” You can’t get a visual on where he is now, but then you finally catch the open door and the glow from his flashlight beam. 

“I don’t feel good about this, Steve! Don’t go down there!”

But it’s too late.

You reach the top of the stairs.  “Steve, wait!”

“He’s down here somewhere, I know it!” Steve persists.

You take another look at him through the lens; he’s dropping down to the dirt floor and darting to the left, disappearing into the inky blackness.  The sound of Eddie’s voice has not been heard for a while, but Steve continues to call out for him, the tremor in his voice now catching with a sob. 

 Abruptly, you see Steve halt. 

He shouts up over his shoulder to you, “Did you hear that?”

The air is suddenly ice cold; freezing even.  You shrink against the doorframe and pan the camera to capture the front door behind you, noting that it is closed, and then quickly back to Steve.

Something in the basement startles him, and Steve drops his flashlight to the ground, smashing the light's glass in the process, making him curse before rushing back up to you, banking on the illumination from the camera light to help him find his way. 

Sprinting up the rickety steps, Steve is relieved to find that you are still intact, dutifully holding his camera and waiting for him. 

Your presence serves as his motivation to attempt to sprint up the stairs a little faster. However, something stops him in his tracks a few steps up.

Your heart is in your throat as you wait, but Steve pauses to look over his shoulder.  “I feel like there is something else down here.”

Your teeth are chattering, your words come out stuttered. “Hurry, Steve.  Let’s go!”

“Not without Eddie,” he says with a vigorous shake of his head, taking one more searching look into the seemingly empty basement.

The chill you feel is much more than skin deep as you pan the camera around the main room again to find it empty, all but for the shadows that appear to be crowding in. 

You can hear Steve make his way up two more steps, but before you can shine the light back down on him, there’s a loud THUD from somewhere below. The noise manages to sliver into the walls, sending an unnatural quake throughout the entire house.

 “Holy shit, what the fuck was that?” Steve jumps.

 His feet are moving before his brain can fully register what is happening. 

Steve never looks back again. 

He takes the next few steps and trips over himself in his haste, his glasses falling in the process.  He doesn’t even bother to bend over to retrieve them, he hears the glass crunch under his boot but can’t bring himself to care as the high volume of fear unravels him.

Adrenaline ignites his flight mode, and he’s practically crawling up the stairs with his hands now, scampering to get away from whatever or whoever did not want him down in the basement.

You stayed where you were, watching—filming. 

The sound of footsteps pricked your ears from the empty room behind you, prompting you to turn around to pan the camera again, shakily, but you were met with nothing but the decaying cabin walls. 

Your mind chooses not to register that the front door to the cabin is wide open now, the forest having its own personal view into the cabin, the branches silently watching.   

Steve has climbed closer now, stilling halfway up, with his face drained of color, bracing his hand on the wall for balance.  He meets your eyes for some much-needed reassurance. The documentarian in him wants to look back, to see what might be glaring up at him from the bottom of the stairs, but his fear won’t let him.

Four steps, one hand holds the camera, your other one on the doorknob. 

Three steps, you begin to shift to the side, ready. He’s so close, he’s ready to leave, make it out, you can see the relief in his eyes to be free of that hole. 

You’re both quaking like brittle autumn leaves now, it feels like the blood in your veins might turn solid and crack, and the air from your lungs is coming out like smoke.  

You feel the need to pan the camera once more just in case, but Steve is so, so close, you decide to wait. 

Two steps and he is about to reach out for your hand. 

One step. 

You slam and seal the door shut, holding your weight against it, twisting it a certain way so that it locks. 

Steve’s breathless, you can hear it, he’s panting. 

However, he’s not standing beside you. 

The camera catches the ornate, brass doorknob as it twists and turns, capturing the sound of his heavy fist banging against the wood, and it’s vibrating into your palm as you press it there, feeding on your guilt. 

“Hey, open the door,” he tries the knob again, with more force this time. “What the fuck are you doing? I’m fucking locked in here!” He pounds his fist, desperation mounting.

“I’m begging you, open the door.” He tries to ram his shoulder through the frame, and it's a pointless move, but it does make the regret bloom fresh within your chest. 

"Let me out! Get me the fuck out of here! Don’t leave without me, please!” He sobs, his voice turning shrill.

You press your forehead against the door, angling the camera down so that it's filming the floor. The camera angle exposes a flicker of something, just a tiny glimpse of some type of black markings.

Steve stops his banging, he goes silent.

Summoning the last of your courage, you say once more, "Sorry, I'm—I..."

Another forceful kick lands on the wood, he’s had enough, the forceful boot punctuating Steve’s plea. "Open the goddamn door!"

You start to back up then, camera almost forgotten as it records the floor.  Through labored breaths, you are issuing your apologies so softly, but loud enough for the audio to capture.  

There’s another loud thud, and the camera vibrates from the impact.

It’s followed shortly by the sound of a sickening crack from beyond the basement door.  Steve’s cry is cut short by another blunt thud, and you wince away, squeezing your eyes shut.  

You flipped the light from the camera off, thinking you’d shut down the entire device. Out of the darkness, the audio picks up what sounds like a hundred hissing whispers, speaking of unintelligible things, muddled amongst feet shuffling all around you.  

In the background, the next set of ears to listen to the tape will be able to make out the hollow thuds of a body being dragged down the stairs.  

To you, in the present, the sound prompts you to turn away from the closed door, your cheeks wet with tears. Your heart is heavy, lips dry and cracked, but you know that there must be sacrifices.

It’s all in order to maintain the balance. 

You really did the best you could for Steve: you got it all on film, you kept your promise.

“I’m sorry,” you say, one last time, and you mean it.

 There’s a rustling, another thud, and then the camera spins around as if it were thrown.

And then, nothing but static.  

Epilogue 

The bodies of Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, and their companion were never recovered from the forest near Burkittsville.  Most of the things from their campsite were recovered, along with a video camera and film that was handed over to authorities.  Contrary to what was found on the tape, there was no physical evidence of foul play anywhere on the property.  

Some experts speculate that you had something to do with their disappearances, others believe you met the same fate as your two companions.  When authorities went to question your friends and family, they found out that your life was a blank slate before you met Steve on the college campus, and your only living relative was a grandmother who lived in a nursing home not far from Burkittsville.

The police went to question her, but unfortunately, she was in the grips of late-stage Alzheimer's. There were two photos of you in your grandmother’s room: one was from when you were a toddler.  In the other, you were maybe 7 or 8 years old, surrounded by trees in a forest, holding up some sort of stick doll made of twigs. If one were to have a closer look, they would spot an odd, isolated cabin amongst the woodland background.   

-----

thank you for reading!

reblogs are deeply cherished, and so are your thoughtful words, but please, please try not to share any spoilers in the comments or the Blair Witch will get cha🧡

------

[mugenmcfugen]

Some things that have been pretzeling my inner lobes about Vindicta and her as a character...

Like, her initial premise looks very simple, but I started thinking about it a lot, to the point I went and researched Salem Witch trials (like, I know what it was but I never went deep into it), and goddamn shit was horrifying. So to think about it in terms of ''what would it feel like to be murdered and suddenly brought back to life some 200 years later, where everything moved foward without you''. All of your family, friends, everything you knew about, gone. The shock, grief and devastation one would feel in that position would be overwhelming to the point of the madness... which, in the end does make her ''THE Vindicta'' and only thing that can scratch that itch is to eliminate bloodline of one man who took it all away from her.

One thing that gave me huge hint about her as a character was name of her weapon, which is ''Wallflower's Revenge''. And, well, wallflower is used to describe yourself or someone when they feel too introverted or shy to socialize or mingle with other people. Which makes me think that since she came back to life she never managed to fit back within society, even when everyone seems sort of accepting towards supernatural, she still chooses to recluse herself. In the end, she's neither a monster or a human anymore, but something in between. And when you're in between, you tend to forget where do you belong.

Thus why I put on cape + hat in some of the sketches, I have feeling she would have tendency to hide herself, not just because she's an assassin but her general introvert nature. Although, I have a hunch she has jovial side to her, judging by her voicelines and tendency to whistle and hum when shooting. She'd also be very caring to her crow familiar too.

I like that Deadlock characters came in all shades of gray even with so little lore

[run-lamb-run]

🌘 RUN, LAMB, RUN 🌒

MASTERPOST • PROFILE CW FOR: Themes of genocide, Heavy topics, Themes of death, Murder, Familial loss, Child death

"What is Run, Lamb, Run?"

Run, Lamb, Run, or RLR, is a Cult of the Lamb based DND campaign being played by a private group of friends. This blog is to document art, shenanigans and lore.

"What is it about?"

RLR is a crossover AU between multiple friends' COTL AU's. It follows the story of a group of targeted sheep/goats on the run through the Lands of the Old Faith during the Lamb Genocide. The group of 10 is stuck on the continent once belonging to the long lost god of Death, and they must reach the gateway to freedom and escape- before it's too late.

⭐️ Who's playing? ⭐️

Glad you asked!

@canadianno - Copper, running the account, player - #Copper speaks

@sock-kaleidoscope - Sock, the DM - #Sock speaks

@bvnny-skvllz - Bunny, player - #Bunny speaks

@ditzyclown - Moron, player - #Moron speaks

@amimuu - Ami, player - #Ami speaks

[@ hidden] - Alz, player - #Alz speaks

Character Cast

Lambert - Young adult, early 20s. Has been on the run since childhood. Traveling with their daughter, Anoana. Sheep. (They/them)

Anoana - Toddler, ~3 years old. Born on the run and adopted by Lambert early on. Sheep. (She/her)

Mary - Middle aged, mid 40s. Experienced in combat, on the run with her child Azazel. Sheep. (She/her)

Azazel - Young child, ~5 years old. On the run with their mother, Mary, after losing their father. Sheep. (They/them)

Silk - Unknown age. A soldier from Silk Cradle horrified by the genocide, taking care of a lamb saved from execution. Spider. (He/him)

Little one - Young child, ~8 years old. A young lamb saved from execution by Silk, sees them as a parent. Sheep. (They/he)

Rafael - Middle aged, mid 30s. Lost his family to a village raid, been on the run since. Sheep. (He/him?)

Callum - Young adult, mid 20s. Lost family and fiancee in the genocide. Been on the run since. Goat. (He/him)

Yael - Mid teens, ~15. Traveling through the lands of the Old Faith with their half sibling, Gale. Sheep. (They/them)

Gale - Mid teens, ~16. Traveling through the lands of the Old Faith with their half sibling, Yael. Goat. (He/they)

☁️ Quick QNA! ☁️

▫️▫️▫️

"Can I join?"

No, sorry! Even if the campaign was public, we already have enough players!

"Can I send asks?"

Yes!! This is encouraged! Please send us asks, we love to answer em! Keep em SFW, though. Most of us are minors.

"Do you accept fanart?"

Absolutely, go wild. We love to see it! You have a higher likelihood of us seeing it if you tag our main accounts, listed above!

"Are we allowed to use your stat blocks?"

If we had stat blocks, I'd say yes, but we don't. We're winging it, baby!!

"How do you guys play?"

We use DND beyond, Discord voice calls, a lot of planning, and sheer fucking will!

[Divider creator credits] • Please mind the profile CWs at the beginning of the message before proceeding further.

[bloos-bloo]

So like I’ve been thinking a lot about Bad’s lore, especially from the stream earlier this week:

Imagine Dapper waking up in the middle of the night, the nightmares that plague her mind about the months she had to spend in the forest and at egg island. The things she had to do in order for her siblings to survive, in order for them to see their parents once again. The way she had to find comfort in the audio recordings of Bad’s voice singing ’You are my sunshine’

The idea of never hearing his voice again in person.

Imagine waking up from that to see his father gone. It’s terrifying, he’s in a new place, a place that’s not secure, a place that’s filled with new mobs, a place where he has no good protection to keep him safe. The thought of losing her dad like that, it’s horrifying.

Imagine her rushing out of bed, barely putting on her boots and checking the farms. Checking her makeshift kitchen outside. Checking the storage room downstairs. Next thing she knows, he’s climbing to the roof of her house, tears streaming down her face as she looks through her eyeglass, looking over the vast ocean, the pirate ship catching an ounce of warm orange glow as the sun crept in, waiting to see that familiar demon coming to embrace her with open arms.

And nothing, just an empty flower field. Purples and pinks. Not him, not him. As the sun appeared over the horizon, so did a figure. She nearly thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. Nearly mistaking the silhouette for the crane walking by in the early morning sun.

Feeling defeated, he slowly climbed down from the roof. Suddenly, she spots movement in the corner of her eye. His head nearly giving him whiplash as his eyeglass darted towards it.

A flowing black coat trailing behind, the oh so familiar white eyes, the long elegant tail that always swished gently across the grass.

Imagine Dapper leaping for joy and feeling relieved as her anxieties melt away. Leaping towards her father’s arm.

Only for him to stare at the child. A glossy dazed look glued onto his supposedly cheerful expression. Half of his face looking like he was splashed with light blue iridescent paint with a matching backside.

Imagine the fear that sunk into her heart as he heard his father’s voice confidently speaking-

“I’m looking for my son, Dapper. Have you seen him?”

Don’t imagine the one silent tear trail down her face, her anxieties slowly being brought into fruition.

Her nightmares no longer dreams, but a slow decent into reality.

‘It’s me! Your son!’ Her hands shook as she held up her sign.

Please don’t forget me-

[raventreehall]

ok just came up with an AU where the starks visit jon on the wall:

- rickon is the only one allowed to bring his direwolf (w/o war the starks are more willing to leave them behind sometimes) bc he goes absolutely insane when separated from shaggydog and shaggydog also gets murderous. shaggydog pulling up and scaring the bejeezus out of everyone, like there's another one???

- they go up the winch cage, wind howling, all kind of like why am i doing this again. but everyone is awed once they get on top of the wall and see the land stretching out in front of them endlessly

- cat thinks about alysanne and wonders if a lady of winterfell has ever been to the wall before or if she's the first in 8000 years. also how this wall protects the entirety of westeros, riverrun and king's landing and dorne... and remembers childhood stories about the others, kind of shuddering but also tells herself she's being silly. she's the most existential about it all.

- ned is also thinking some of these thoughts, about the starks and their legacy, lots of thoughts about previous kings beyond the wall vs starks and worrying if he'll be the next lord of winterfell to fight one—or if robb will, or his sons, etc etc.

- benjen reminds bran that he was named after bran the builder ❤️ bran blurts out asking if the others are real, the only one to actually say it even though they're all thinking it, and robb laughs and tells him not to be so childish but jon says even if they are, the wall and the watch will protect them (taking his newfound Duty and Purpose very seriously)

- back on the ground, jon introduces his sibs to his friends. nw boys kind of awkward bc they're aware they're standing in front of nobles and the literal heir to winterfell. pyp tries to flirt with sansa and jon is like she's literally my sister and also a highborn lady wtf are u doing (his classism is so beautiful). she also talks to sam and politely tells him she thinks it's very brave that he chose to join the night's watch. cue him blushing bright red and jon's like ughh you too?

- if satin is there sansa can develop a crush on him, she thinks he's so prettyyyy. cat ned are like oh ok honey (to themselves: this dude is literally gay). arya thinks he looks like a girl

- bran really wants to go to the nightfort (oh my sweet summer child) and starts yapping on about the stories wondering if they're true and sam tells him that he's read a lot about the nightfort actually... and they have a nice little geek out session that's NICE bc they're not hungry tired traumitized and in grave danger

- catelyn's watching from afar and she's like why tf is there a tarly here??? when sam's away from jon she asks him about it and gets him to tell her the whole sad story. she's horrified that anyone could treat their child like that

- oh yeah also theon meets a guy who is ironborn which is v rare in the watch, says he took the black after the greyjoy rebellion and wow to see lord balon's son here is crazy, they're in the same position really, imprisoned far away from home. theon is like uh i'm not a prisoner and also weren't u supposed to die rather than get caught #loser (i'm making this bit of ironbore lore up but it feels right). cue sad look from ironborn guy and theon comes away from the interaction feeling weird but he doesn't really know why

- robb fights with swords with grenn, then asks jon if he wants to try, see if the nw training programme has improved his sword skills haha. cat is hearing kill bill sirens and jon is also having a bastard moment where he's like i can't be seen showing up my trueborn brother and also, secondly, what if i lose and embarrass myself in front of my friends 😑 so he suggests archery instead which he knows they're both shit at and it's a nice fun brotherly moment and also funny bc THEON comes out on top like woah ok hostage don't get ahead of urself now...

- they get served dinner which is just boiled shit and ned cat and robb are very polite about it and pretend that it tastes really good. sansa kind of pushing food around her plate and arya straight up says she's not eating it bc it's gross (robb elbows her in the stomach to shut up, jon across the room secretly smiling bc well she's right). rickon really likes it actually, bran feeds him some from off his plate

- sansa is excited to meet a bunch of 'knights' (she heard someone call them the black knights of the wall) and see the beautiful order that protects them from the evil things beyond the wall but upon arrival is disillusioned, she thinks everything is grimy and mean and certainly no one looks like a knight, how could this be where uncle benjen lives... but then a singer in the mess hall sings brave danny flint for them and she's like wow showstopping beautiful amazing incredible. cut to someone telling her that the singer actually murdered three people and that's why he's at the wall. sansa: oh :///. singer: but i did it because i was protecting my little sister from being attacked! sansa: omg true knight confirmed <33

- arya meanwhile already thinking about disguising herself as a boy and joining the night's watch she's like wow what happened to danny flint was so sad but i could defff do that and not be caught i bet, rip to brave danny flint but i'm different. and she imagines up a whole scenario about how that would mean she could still be with jon and they'd go riding in the haunted forest and they'd practice swordfighting together and and :((

- at some point some ratty night's watch guy shows up like 🫡 lord stark it's an honor to serve you, i fucking hate wildlings and i love killing em and making sure they never get over the wall because they're trying to TAKE OVER westeros and steal our WOMEN!!! u know we're really just trying to prevent another bael the bard right lord stark nudge nudge. but ned is suddenly disassociating, having his 'promise me ned' ptsd moment. also another weird guy looks at sansa and laughs like ummmmm stay away from her

- they don't meet maester aemon (mutual preference—aemon is kind of wary about meeting robert's bff and also remembers the rhaegar and lyanna stuff, ned also doesn't want to meet him for the same reason 😈) but when jon mentions there's a targaryen at the wall arya and bran are like WHERE

- when they leave all the brothers are kind of cheering ned and they start cheering robb too as the next lord of winterfell. robb is beaming v happy about all this but it's cat's turn to feel uncomfortable watching a group of criminals call her son's name, something feels eerie about it and she wonders about the meaning of the wall and if there will in fact be a war with the wildlings

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu Season 3, Episodes 1-6

//tw mentions of SA

Episode 1 - Fallen Heroes

I had a very long discussion with a friend of mine, who is a fan of medical settings, about how cool the existence of IV within the lore of Krosmoz is.

We didn't come to any conclusion. It was just us fanboying about this. Because my friend loves medical things and I love putting character into situations (some of which would not be survivable, if them being put on IV wasn't possible) (big fan of the concept of Joris getting poisoned and very sick and Kerubim and Atcham freaking the fuck out).

Funnily enough, during the making of my YouTube series, I discovered that there are two Sram-venerating women named Toxine in this franchise.

Adamai harbouring feelings of violence towards the members of the brotherhood is a good idea, (<- obviously the guy that wants Joris to beat the shit out of Kerubim would say this), but man, it could have been so cool if someone competent was working with this idea.

Episode 3 - Oropo's Tower

I should admit, this moment was probably a big win for Tristepin Mental Illness fans. Also, this is sadly the most explicit they can get with the reasons why Tristepin might hate being the Iop god in a cartoon.

He has plenty of reasons. Not only had Iop had 394824 demigods who hated him and felt abandoned by him while suffering fates worse than death (all gods have those) and just as many mortals he took advantage of using the power imbalance of godhood and promises of love (all gods have done that), he also canonically sexually assaulted a woman.

Ngl, if I was Tristepin, I would be considering killing myself — however, the kids and the wife would be sad.

They shuoild do this to Yugo too. He also had other wives. Albeit in an infinitely less insane way than Tristepin. Ankama.., please stop ignoring how existentially horrifying the Eliatrope demigods are.

In the Dofus MMO Kerubim pretty much calls the brotherhood of the forgotten an emo club of people with too much free time on their hands doing nothing but whining about their daddy issues.

And he was so real for that.

Btw canonically, Mishelle/Coqueline makes him feel intimidated (due to her grand age) while she herself doesn't really care about him (besides liking his good attitude towards animals), and is actually besties with Otomai.

Episode 4 - Beastly Girl

I like to headcanon that Joris's relationship with Coqueline is that he projects onto her ("oh god.... being 7 forever would make me kill myself.... even being 3ft tall is already horrible and makes me want to die..... the poor woman must be suffering") while she's like,, 1. probably doesn't think of herself as a "woman". I think she would describe herself as a creature, maybe a girlcreature, and 2. is literally chilling and doesn't give a single shit about anything but animal welfare and direct anti-god action.

I think talking to her would kill Joris because he'd realize that not every immortal person is as insecure about Literally Everything as he is.

She literally says, "the only good gods are ex-gods". We stan a leftist girlcreature?

This screenshot can be used as a reaction image for so many different shows. More fictional parents should say "my child is NOT ascending to godhood and shedding their mortality, becoming something beyond my comprehension, before they're of age. Fuck you."

Episode 5 - A Iop Hides Himself to Cry

You want to read @bitter-panacea's analysis posts about Goultard so bad.

Despite my negative feeling on s3, this is a WIN for Goultard fans, as far as I'm aware. (and Goultard enjoyers, since I kinda consider myself one)

I;'m going to walk into the sea.

Episode 6 - The Ecaflip's Scratching Post

YEAH BABY, A FULL ON IN-SHOW CONFIRMATION OF MY "USH HAS A DIFFERENT MOM THAN KERUBIM AND ATCHAM" HYPOTHESIS.

This might not seem like a contentious issue to normal people. Gods have... a lot of different lovers, so it seems normal to assume that Ush has one mom, while Kerubim and Atcham are twins like Eleley and Flopin, and have a different mom...

But a cancelled game that Tot really liked and still considers canon had really weird "there's an Ecaflip priestess who is the CEO of Giving Birth" lore, and was planned to be the mysterious mom of Kerubim and Atcham (and many other demigods), which contradicts a lot of previously established lore (ankama LOVES retcons. sadly).

I am quite open about thinking this is stupid and not considering this canon until they show her to me in an actual released media (and even then I will find a way to headcanon a better reality). Seeing the series itself acknowledge that Ush is not Atcham and Kerubim's full brother makes me feel quite better.

Hi Ush were you doing [SEXUAL ACTS REDACTED] upon cats again.

Cute...

A normal thing for a Bontarian to do. Blue-clad (metaphorically, he isn't wearing blue but white. Still very Bontarian though) man over here protecting kids and women. While also beating them up.

But unironically, I think it's cute that he has this gap moe of being an evil man who also saves people and cares about honour (because that's a proper thing to do) despite cheating constantly.

Somehow, his shallowness and "I mostly care about appearances, even if I do have a moral code" sort of behaviour is just as Extremely Bontarian as Joris's.... 30 mental illnesses.

THE OST IN THIS EP IS SO GOOD. ECAFLIP FANS WINNING ONCE AGAIN.

Hey past me! Maybe he really does pay these cats to put up with his insane behaviours. 🤨

Yugo, I'm gonna be real with you:

he's probably heard Joris and Kerubim say these exact words at least twice before,

He is reallllllly weird about cats and I am unsure if that's illegal in your setting,

He lured in people to kill in his tower for sport serial killer style.

He's bontarian. -20 morality and honor points immediately.

[thedeafprophet]

The Captivating Princess: An Overview

As I have been pondering that most content around The Princess is not easily accessible, I have decided to do a little write up on who she is. This will not be unbiased - many are aware of my in depth views here- but hopefully it will provide a good summary.

I will try to keep it light, but there will be some ES spoilers in here. Discusisons of information from: The Gift, Say It With Flowers, Reunion, and A Crown Of Thorns, plus some references to Sunless Skies. I intend to mostly focus on who she is in Fallen London though, not in skies.

Who Is She?

'At the very front, cross-legged on the floor, sits the Playful Prodigy. She has the cheeks of a cherub and blue, mischievous eyes. In her arms is a baby, wrapped in a black swaddling-cloth: presumably the Captivating Princess.' - The Gift

The Captivating Princess in universe is The Traitor Empresses' youngest child. Unlike the other royal children, she is an entierly fictional character, and does not have a real world counter part. She was born the year of the fall, 1862, making her around 37 in 1899 (or more accuratly, 40 as of 1902).

She is the most social of her family, frequently seen outside the Palace while her siblings are not . She can be found in both upper society functions, and sauntering down into the.... less savourey locations in London. She does so love to mingle. She is throughougly beloved by the people despite her collection of scandal, and is an extremely popular figure within society - captivates them, if you will.

The player can become aquainted with her at The Feast of The Rose, should you wish to spending some masquing at the Duchess' Banquet. She is also who helps you return to court in the making your name: persuasive arc. She does so have a penchant for the arts...

Most of all she is noted for her habit of honey - both the rumour of her having her own honey-den in veilgarden... and other, less savoury aspects around such.

The rest of the overview below the cut will be going into more detailed, more spoiler heavy, and dark matters

Content warnings: Child/infant endangerment, drug use, torture, bees mention

Matters Of The Palace And The Honey

'No one will tell you what happened, but the word 'traitor' is whispered in the palace corridors. You cry for your mother, and someone gives you a jar and a spoon to quiet you.' -A Crown Of Thorns

One cannot begin to go into the rest of The Princess' character without first going over the issue of the red honey. To go over the entire lore surronding red honey would be a whole post on its own, so i will give just a brief run down here.

Gaoler's honey, which is called red honey for the colour of its hue, is an eviler version of prionser's honey. It is made when bees crawl through people's mind, made of their memories. It is excrustiatingly painful for the victim, who relives the pain every time the honey produced from them is consumed. The Palace contains its own set of 'cage gardens' where people are imprisoned and their memories collected. Cheery, right?

The Princess and her family have all consumed the red honey, the whole of The Palace seeming to have taken to if very soon after the fall. How they got it so quickly after the fall, I don't know, but they seemed to have a lot of it going around.

Its likely The Princess was fed it from infancy, alongside her siblings and other family members. Text implies in general the children in the palace were heavily neglected after the fall, even being given the drugs to make them be quiet. Its...well, an utterly horrible image of how those kids were treated.

Oh yea and it turned all The Princess' siblings into horrifying monsters. The details around what happened are unclear, but it seems to be some connection between the frequent consumption and a 'bad batch' that did Something to the royal children, turning all but The Princess into physically monstrous forms. And most are still consuming it. 10/10, another great move by the british royal family.

It is very likely it is why she is as she is today. Whatever she is, she's not exactly human. She continues to consume it regularly, and on occasion 'shares' it with others.

What Exactly Is She

'Only the Captivating Princess looks as she did in the mirror. Among the nightmares, her beauty is worst of all. It rakes your eyes like fire. ' -The Gift

 "The change imposed by the Red Honey was a gift. As it was to me. The rest of our family proved... inadequate to the wonders on offer." - Reunion

I don't... know. Not really. Sunless skies has her shedding her skin and revealing a bee-like monster underneath, but that was after some considerable other lore stuff and in a different game, and i dont consider it directly applying with in FL.

Within the neath at least, The Princess is quite powerful. Not just for her political role and image as the beloved princess, but also for her seeming power of persuasion and adoration. Her beauty is considered maddening, everything pales to her existence, and its hard not to just immediatly fall to your knees and do every single thing she's asked of you~

Which while i'm sure is a common experience for some around pretty women, is clearly an indication of some sort of mental power here.

She's also considerably stronger then she looks, and i surely do not believe most would stand a chance against her in a physical fight. Nor do i personally believe simple weapons would do much to harm her.

'The Princess' expression curdles. She shoves the table, which sends plates spinning to the floor. She treads on meat as she advances. She has dropped the knife. She does not need it.' - Reunion

Matters Of Morality And Personality

'She points at the Spinster. "I had to compel her from retirement. Since her fiancee is my maid, I had leverage. She should have just done as I asked. Clearly, there's something wrong with her." - Say It With Flowers

The Princess is entitled, cruel, and uncaring towards others. Everything you'd expect from a british royal, but with the added effect of being literarly monstrous instead of just metaphorically. She evidently always expects to get what she wants and has a tendance towards aiming for suffering just for the sake of watching others suffer. And thats without getting in how her frequent use of red honey is directly causing extreme harm to the victims.

All of this tends to be hidden under her vaneer of sweetness. She acts so lovely and sweet and kind, and would do as she was sentencing someone to death. And that is something she'd be inclined to do. She has a penachant towards pet names, and is overly touchey/doesnt seem to care much at all about boundaries. Why would she?

'The Captivating Princess holds your chin in her sharp nailed hand. She stares, intently, at your face. ' - Say It With Flowers

'A happy voice rouses you. Delicate fingers are stroking your hair. "I knew you'd be perfect. So curious. So bold. So resolute. Thank you, for exceeding my estimation."' -The Gift

The Princess is also quick to change moods, becoming angry if she doesnt get her way, or becoming extremely bored rather quickly. If she's not interested in something, she's inclined to leave right away or ignore it, or find some other matter to entertain herself. She also doesn't get along with her family, having an intense rivlavry with one of her brothers (The Brooding Captain), and will often aim to sabotage and manipulate her siblings and other family members. Not to even get into what rumors surrond her suitors, most notably around their deaths...

The things and way she is in skies is all the more.... extreme.

Aims and Motivation

While its hard to say why she does a lot of other things, The Princess does seem to actually have an interest in the arts. When she ran for mayor in 1896, her slogan was “Make London Magnificent For Me.”, and her platform was pushing more for the public arts. Indeed, throughout her appearances in the games, art does seem to truly be an area she's interested in.

Beyond everything else though, The Princess is completely, and utterly bored. She cares little for the lives of those around her, and seems to take great pleasure in the suffering of others, and seemingly this is all related to The Princess' aim for entertainment.

'"Honestly? I'm entirely bored. I am either fawned on or feared, or – worst of all – pawed at by the infatuated. Everyone believes they know me, because of my family."' -1896 Election text

and.... well. If i'm to put my own word in here, I think in her own way, The Princess is lonely.

'And..." She hesitates for a moment. Her last words are hurried. "This is not a gift that should be borne alone."' - Reunion

The earlier line from the election speaks of being pawed at - that her boredom comes from either being fawned or feared, implying no one is truly looking at her. Two of her storylines tentivly involve trying to make another character be What She Is, that she not be alone in this.

She has done many cruel and vicious things, that is of note, but one can't help but think of the inherent tragedy of her character. Never once having a chance to be anything other then she is, being raised in a household that found it suitable to give drugs to children to get them to stop crying. Of never really having anyone like or love you, to everyone fawning at you immediatly with no true level of connection.

In short: The Princess is a horrible cruel woman, and there is an inherent tragey in the fact that she exists the way she does at all.

[lavellenchanted]

having watched the final episode and thinking about the season as a whole, overall I still have very mixed feelings - it's still very enjoyable to watch, the animation is beautifully done and the acting is fantastic, but I think this season is definitely weaker than the previous two and I have a lot more criticisms than I had of them

I think that's for a mix of reasons: there's the inevitable issues with compressing an improvised campaign of hundreds of hours into seasons of 12 half-hour episodes, and I think this season shows that the chroma conclave arc could easily have stretched to another season (though I can understand why they wouldn't want to push that when they didn't know if they were getting a season four), but while I never expected the show to be a 1:1 of the campaign and certain changes were always going to be necessary, I do think some of the more significant departures they've made this season don't actually help the greater narrative and in some cases have actually been harmful to characterisation and the emotional beats of the story

I also think we're seeing the butterfly effect of choosing to start s1 with vox machina building their reputation in emon and then skipping ahead in the narrative rather than introducing them as an already established and competent group - they're just not in the same place they were for these story beats in the campaign, and that has an overall impact

as said I still enjoy watching the show, it is overall a positive experience and it's nice to spend any time back with these characters I love, and I hope s4 will be tighter because it's not as sprawling as the chroma arc, but we'll see

more specific thoughts under the cut - spoilers ahead, ye be warned:

starting with positives:

loved seeing keyleth's earth trial, I think the way they've folded her class features into the story and her arc is great

raishan managing to achieve her goal with thordak's body was fascinating, I really enjoyed getting the sense of what a genuine threat she really was

same with thordak, you could really feel his menace and what a genuinely terrifying enemy he was

the songs were great this season and kaylie's song was beautiful

I actually really liked the change of scanlan being in a coma rather than dead and how kaylie brought him round, as well as her encouraging him to go and join the fight against raishan

lots of nice little references - grog "blacking out" to be smart because travis just couldn't hold back that one time, anna's men playing uko'toa, keyfish reference, "do you spice?"

laura broke my heart with vex's confession during percy's resurrection

and while I wasn't a fan of different order things happened in, every perc'ahlia scene was still a delight to watch

seeing inside orthax's realm was very cool

dis was rightfully horrifying and will haunt my nightmares

I did also love them folding in some of the wider exu lore through zerxus

the fight choreography was always fantastic

as was the cinematography

and now on to negatives

my biggest disappointment this season is the complete failure to really showcase any of the group dynamics outside the romantic pairings (and occasionally the twins and pike & grog, and even they suffer), to the point that vex seemed to be the only character grieving for percy or even wanting to avenge him, when ripley's death was one of the rawest, most emotional moments on stream because it was the entire team coming together. would anyone watching the show only even know that keyleth was percy's best friend? or that one of her biggest struggles with her aramente was knowing she was going to outlive them all, not just vax?

don't get me wrong, the boat fight in ep11 was very well done and enjoyable and I loved getting some 1 on 1 moments with the twins, and vex using percy's arrow was still an emotional moment but taken in context overall it felt very anti-climatic - especially when the only comment anyone had about it was keyleth saying "I saw".

just at this point I don't know that I really buy that the show versions of vox machina really do consider themselves to be family, so the "break up" at the end wasn't as impactful as it could have been, nor was keyleth's anger at the group when raishan took thordak's body

and honestly I think you could keep most of the changes and still show those dynamics with just a few tweaks like,

have percy be the one keyleth really butts heads with over raishan - his cold practical logic vs her morals and emotions, remind us of their friendship (which was shown so well in s1) and have her regretting their fighting when he dies

keep grog and keyleth's conversation about anger; it's a beautiful character moment for both of them, and grog's assurance that they will stand with keyleth against raishan if need be would make her anger at the team and running away from them instead of relying on them echo better later

especially if that's following up with keyleth holding herself back because of her fears of outliving everyone and letting herself rely on all her friends, especially when her best friend just died, instead of making it all about committing to vax (even though he was the one with the aging fears this time)

let pike and vax talk about religion - vax suddenly finding himself the champion of a god when he's never been religious turning to the group's cleric, who can be honest with her own struggles. let pike threaten the raven queen! let it be clear why vax tells her at the end, "you showed me the way"

have scanlan talk to vex and vax about kaylie, because they grew up with a shitty father and can offer some perspective on how kaylie might be feeling (and depending on the conversation that could either play into the bard's lament or help play into the softer ending they went with)

if they were really set on not having the "how do you, vox machina, want to do this?" moment then at least let the others express gladness that ripley's dead and disappointment that they couldn't be there for it

if they're also set on having percy stay dead (which I hated purely because it means he was left out of the two major endgame fights) have pike try to resurrect percy and fail because she can't find his soul, let her feel like she failed him and have that play into her questioning storyline

although I have to say on that note I am also overall disappointed in how they've handled pike this season - which obviously to some extent is because she was in and out of the campaign so much, but even so it really didn't feel like she had a complete arc this season and I'm hoping they do properly follow up next season

because it is very unclear how she actually feels faith-wise at the moment. I'm interested to see where they take this bloodline personally I'm not a fan of giving her another crisis of faith storyline when she had that in s1 - I would have preferred to see her faith in herself growing as a reflection of the strength of her faith in her everlight, understanding that the everlight chose her because of who she is - and as it is I'm not sure if she's doubting the everlight, or just doubting whether a life of faith is for her, or if that's going to have any knock on impact on her magic

and part of that is because apart from one or two very cool set battles like using the plate of the dawn martyr against thordak . . . pike's powers have very much been nerfed. to the point that she can't even handle percy's resurrection on her own. even though in stream she's performed multiple resurrections and got a goddess to punch a fucking dragon for the team (no I'm still not over that being cut, I never will be)

she's not the only one. I feel like vex's powers have been downplayed a lot (like has she cast a single spell ever?), and so have scanlan's.

other things that I wasn't thrilled with:

really don't like where they seem to be going with vax saving percy being the reason he ends up a revenant, not least since it implies that percy's soul being taken by orthax was his pre-ordained "fate" not actually a complete perversion of the natural order

also very sad we lost all the aftermath of percy's resurrection, especially percy and vex's forest walk and long talk about forgiveness and that he heard her, and percy and cass's reunion

grog seemed to just be there for comic relief and to punch things this season, I'd really like to see him given more moments to show his deeper characters

sad we didn't get j'mon sa ord joining the fight against thordak

I do feel like gilmore's relationship with the whole team but especially vax is shortchanged a lot in the series, and I'd love them to give us a bit more of his character the way they did kima and allura

very 'mmmm' on them including vex's line about not getting married which is contextually very different than it was on the stream - mostly I'm worried that between that and her then eloping with percy, plus vax's doom being because he saved percy for vex, that there's going to be a lot of fandom blowback on vex (it was bad enough just on stream when vax hadn't yet died)

still absolutely furious that they killed kash

name checking cabal's ruin but not getting it? like, what was the point

things I'd like to see in s4:

taryon darrington. they cannot rob me of him.

kynan appearing as a whitestone guard or cass's personal guard (if jarret can be a guard in emon then why not)

more spotlight on the platonic dynamics beween the group

following up on percy looking at the dragon scales by having him make vex's armour

some unambiguously positive depictions of the gods, especially the everlight

kash being resurrected. or just like ... turning up somewhere like, "yeah I got better, it's cool".

[splxtduxlies]

yes i kno i do a lot of agent 24 headcanons but what if. pearlina headcanons

(aka the other splatoon ship that makes up most of my brain's space)

so at this point i think we all pretty much get their lore - marina was an octoling solider that heard the inkantation at the end of splat1 and fled from underground, pearl was a richy rich inkling who wanted to start a band, they make out they get married they adopt agent 8 yk the Canon

marina's first impression of pearl was "wow this short inkling girl can scream"

pearl's first impression of marina was that she looked cool and would make her band stand out from the rest bc of her "weird" look (pearl canonically did not know marina was an octoling lol) it wasnt long until "cool" became "shes pretty cute actually" and then "wow shes beautiful" and it just went downhill from there

for pearl she definitely fell in love with marina's looks first,, shes not even gonna lie,, she can be a lil shallow lesbian smh

marina for. obvious reasons cant say she ever found inklings physically attractive, given the. yk. propaganda in the underground

so for her she really admired pearl's inner beauty first and most

i like to think marina was not on the ground *at all* when she was in the military. definitely the one controlling the tech from the sidelines so she never really had to hold a weapon

hence, marina cannot fight. she's too pretty & she will cry

okay well she did grow up underground so she can hold her own when she needs to but she gets frazzled easily and a little overwhelmed. definitely tries to talk or manipulate her way out of tough situations

pearl, surprisingly on the otherhand, can and will beat the shit out of a grown man

well she's scrappy so she'll bite them and claw at them and kick in their shins and they'll run away but not without literal chunks bitten out of them

anything for her queen ✨️🌸

when marina agreed to make a band with pearl, pearl was so excited she immediately suggested marina move into her home (her bodyguards were horrified)

marina,,, immediately politely declined and pearl helped her get an apartment instead

basically, despite appearances and titles, pearl is not the princess who needs protecting by marina , she thinks of it Very differently

pearl's love language is, obviously, words of affirmation and gift giving

her way of "courting" marina was buying her tons of stuff and offering to have people do everything for her so she doesnt have to lift a finger

it worked for all pearl's exs sooooo should work for this octo baddie right (she is not right)

marina's love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation...actually its mostly physical touch lol

yk marina hugging pearl so hard they fall on the ground at the end of octo expansion. and then she keeps Going

marina is "baby i want the most high tech weaponry on the black market" and pearl is definitely "my baby gets whatever she wants laws be damned"

growing up a only child in a family with a LOT of money means pearl definitely got the spoiling but. she never got the feeling of spoiling Someone Else and she prefers that waay more

marina does not have expensive tastes,,, but she doesnt mind being spoiled sometimes as a treat i meann it would be rude to decline n she was raised to be polite soooOO

if marina's friends from the octoling barracks saw the stuff pearl buys her now they would be in Shock

but dont forget,,, marina was team love so shes not overly impressed by *all* the gifts

of all the fancy music gear and clothes and things pearl has bought her marina's favorite gift has just been plain ole flowers

they dont grow underground obviously but theyve always captured marina, the smell the look the different varieties she loves them

when marina thinks of the beauty and joy of being above ground first she thinks of pearl, and then she thinks of flowers

pearl catches on that marina likes flowers and starts ordering her tons of bouquets and starts lining the hallways leading to her apartment with floral gifts and flowers in the shape of her head and all kinds of junk

marina accepted the gifts. politely ofc

but her fondest memory is of her and pearl doing a photoshoot for an album in a wildflower meadow. marina looked so beautiful and Pearl's crushing was driving her crazy so she gathered a bunch of random flowers in her fist and shoved them in marina's face because she had to give her Something or she was gonna loose it

marina felt so fond, she keeps the dry and crumpled flowers in a locket with her all the time

at some point pearl realized marina likes it better when She opens the door for her first instead of pearl's bodyguards so now pearl rushes to every door to open it for marina before anyone else can

*bodyguard opens car door for pearl on side* *pearl runs to the other side of the car to open the door for marina*

pearl snores and drools like a dad of 4 who works a blue collar job 5 days a week and luckily marina is a heavy sleeper.

marina is the small spoon exclusively,,, when they fall asleep. when they wake up pearl is wrapped in marinas arms AND tentacles and she can't Move

whenever they get into fights pearl Always is the one to apologize. not just because shes usually the one whose wrong but marina is scary good at being cold (surprisingly given how affectionate and sweet she is with pearl) and pearl absolutely Hates it, its like the world feels wrong

everyone notices because marina is usually all over her, so pearl gets pressured by her bodyguards to apologize too (they always know shes in the wrong)

marina makes it look easy,,, but shes usually moments away from apologizing herself bc she misses her pearl so much

pearl is one of those people who makes sounds and hand motions to express feelings and marina is usually the only one who understands

marina has literally made a powerpoint presentation on all the things she loves about pearl in great detail. and she will present it do not test her

she's perpetually in the "crushing phase" and gets so excited to spend time with her and pearls like "babe we've been married for 2 years i see u every night and day"

if i was allowed to keep going i would never stop-