#small town killers

[the-east-art]

Not sure if I’ll finish this haha

[revinluver]

look who just posted 9 hours ago...

[quitebashfulexe]

got the gals going out on the town >:)

[safiieatworld]

MEOW

[corrodedcoughin]

just thinking about musician eddie who ends up doing country music under a pseudonym similar to Orville Peck. Eddie having his rock and metal band but the influence of Wayne and his upbringing doesn’t leave him. So he puts on a mask and picks up an acoustic to be this character. A character that’s closer to his real life than he lets on. A deep voiced cowboy singing about the difficulty of growing up gay but how comfortable he is with his identity.

He only ever does small gigs under this name and the audience isn’t huge. But there’s one regular that turns up to every show, he’s never stayed to talk to Eddie after and Eddie’s never been brave enough to go up to him. He knows he’d let all his secrets out under the attention of those hazel eyes and pretty boy smile.

Tonight though? Tonight he might just risk it all because the gif is over. Eddie is standing at the bar and he’s being handed a drink he definitely didn’t ask for by a man he definitely wants to know more about.

Or!!! Alternatively!!!!!

Steve as an Orville Peck style country singer. Going it to gigs and shows and getting a name for himself as the mysterious masked singer who is a proud queer cowboy. Creating a character to share his emotions and experiences. He doesn’t think it’ll come to much, just a way to let himself be heard.

Only he ends up gaining a strong following. His audiences are small but they are dedicated, understanding the idea steve has created and the importance of it. He loves this group he’s made for himself and how comfortable everyone feels at his shows. There’s often full conversations between him and the crowd, letting everyone be involved in his performances.

Steve has every intention of this being a small time thing that gets him through the long work week. What he doesn’t plan for is one of his tapes being found by corroded coffin front man eddie munson. Eddie Munson who loves a mystery, Eddie munson who might be in a big time metal band but has grown up listening to country and know Good Music when he hears it. Eddie Munson who might be Steve’s number one fan and is planning on finding out who is behind the mask

[spotaus]

The Maskmaker (New Age AU Drabble)

Hiiiii. So, this isn't very long and doesn't do Nightmare or N enough justice, but I wrote this a while ago and my lovely pals looked at me w/ big ol' eyes on my post about posting it, sooooo!!! Here it is!!

This is shortly after Night's coronation and follows Ancha's drabble regarding Ccino + his remaining by Night's side!

   These halls. They were cold. Colder than the rest of the castle.

   Nightmare only knew, thanks to the gentle puff of steam left by his shallow breaths as he stepped down the corridor. The dark, long, corridor.

   He couldn't feel it. No. His sense of warmth and cold had faded almost instantly after eating the apple. The nervous chill in his core had been replaced with a luke-warm air. Like a puddle left after a summer rain. The chill couldn't reach him.

   Still, he wore his cloak. One which Ccino had tailored not a week ago because he feared Nightmare would feel bare without it. His old one used to keep him warm. Ccino was right, of course. Purposeless or not, the new heavy fabric kept him centered. Covered the restless twitching of his tendrils as he spoke with the few he could bring himself to communicate with since the incident.

  

   Now, it's bottom hem was suspended away from the old floors, just barely, by his extra limbs.

   His steps were silent, he wasn't sure when that had begun, but he imagined in this darkness no one would know he was there at all until the Cyan of his eyelight was turned upon them.

   He approached the door. Finally reaching the ornate, carved surface he'd visited only once before. When he and Dream were young. Nim had ordered them to come alone and let the mask-maker measure them. So they'd know when time came for them to commission their own masks. They didn't have to come down, the mask-maker already knew their measurements. They always did.

   His knuckles hovered away from the door. With its carving of that tree, swirling and dancing in the low light his eyelight provided. This space held more lingering emotions than he'd expected. His hand trembled a bit.

   No. He couldn't chicken out. He couldn't go crying, this was important to him. It was his right. It was... the least he could do.

   His fist connected with the door, twice, steadily. The loud sound echoed into the space behind him, and he stood. Prepared to face heckling and anger abd fear, for he wasn't sure the mask maker even knew of his rise to the throne. He hadn't been there, after all. At the ceremony.

   The door swung inward, and... Nightmare found hinself staring down at a monster.

   This monster... was not the one whom he remembered.

   Before, when he was young, he recalled a large, imposing monster. Heavy clay hands that held the pristine masks so carefully. Kind eyes which skimmed sorrowful past him, and handed him that lovingly carved owl mask. The one made simply out of dark wood.

   Now, the monster stood before him, leaning in the doorframe, was not that monster. This one was slightly shorter than him, stocky in the shoulders, and bundled in layers of cloaks and gloves. Their face hid behind the mask of some sort of rabbit, bright, burning lights behind the eye-holes were a soft lavender and blue. Only a lashing tail gave away their species. A skeleton varient.

   "Mask-maker." He greeted, composure renewed.

   The monster blinked, before they widened the door a bit more. A wave of amusement and excitement washed over Nightmare, and he thought he might be sick from just how potent it was.

   "Ah, my King!" They exclaimed, and Nightmare could almost hear the smile in their tone. "I wasn't expecting you so soon after your whole coronation, come in!"

   They darted away from the door, allowing Nightmare to see past them. The room beyond was as he remembered. The large sets of work-benches, suspended candles, piles upon piles of wood. Masks lined every inch of the walls, though now he could see newer ones piling up along shelves and along the stations.

   The monster seemed to round to a large chair, much too oversized for them, and plop down into it. Nightmare drifted inside, closing the door behind him carefully.

   "You royals only come down to see me for masks, that is my job though," They mused. "Or, well, that's what my mentor always said."

   Nightmare drew closer to the opposite side of the table which now separated them. He could see the messy, amalgamated surface of a partially-completed work laying between them. The wood mangled and frayed not unlike torn flesh.

   "I must ask," He knew he had other business and little time, but, "Who are you, mask maker? My mother never mentioned a change in position."

   It would be just his luck that a fraud would be hidden here in the depths. Though, the emotions were simply so delighted. They swirled about, as though every flick of their tail sent another ripple through the air.

   A giggle erupted from behind their mask.

   "Oh, I think I like you already, my king!" They said happily, "Mask-makers have never been asked such a thing by the royals! We have always been known to retire and pass on the mantel without care from you folks."

   They divulged the information so easily, but Nightmare didn't recieve the answer he had asked for. It took a few more breaths before they spoke again.

   "My name is N, my King. Call me as you see fit, I change as easily as replacing my mask." They finally admitted. "King Nim visited me once, two years ago, only to inform me her prince may quickly approach after his coronation. Though, I'm sure you're not the one she meant?"

   Nightmare withheld the hiss which desperately wanted to bubble up in his throat. His tendrils whipped about in frustration. Guilt. Of course they were expecting Dream. He'd figured as much.

   "No matter. I am here to serve my king, and that king is you, my good sir." They dipped their head a bit, "So, what is it you'd like me to carve? A noble wolf? A regal ibis? Something fitting a consort or-"

   "None of that." Nightmare cut them off, his good socket narrowing in disgust. The thought made his stomach churn.

   He thought he'd have to wait for her to speak up again, but found they had quieted and were seemingly awaiting information.

   "My... head of house. Recently promoted as of my ascension." He said, slower. He wouldn't get worked up again, "He deserves only the best, and I know you understand this well."

   N seemed to smile beneath the mask again, their eyelights hidden in thin crescent slits.

   "Describe away, my king!" They exclaimed, reaching out for a scrap of paper.

   Nightmare remembered how he'd been taught. To describe the mask with intention. Feelings and thoughts tucked away into each and every word. Those were supposed to be insightful for the mask-maker. To guide their hand as they carved.

   "This mask. I would like it to be the Visage of a cat. Well-kept, clean, orderly." He spoke, gently, drawing his eye away from the table and to the plain floor were nothing would influence his thought. "A kind face, soft. Trustworthy and bold. Clever. Warm."

   Nightmare wasn't sure what came over him. Descriptions and feelings tumbled from his jaws for what felt like ages. By the time he finished, his throat was raw with emotion. His hands clutched the inside of his cloak like a life-line.

   It was the tapping of N's charcoal stick to her desk which alerted Nightmare. Made his eyelight snap back up to her position.

   Though, she'd already put her sketch down and was up and across the room. Tugging at her piles and piles of enchanted and imported woods. For being a stationary monster, they had strength to move the wood with ease.

   "You've given me the perfect working material, my King! This mask should be done in four-days time." They assured him, not turning around.

   Their emotions read as elation now. A pure, unadulterated joy at the... the way Nightmare had described his mask? He could only imagine his magic intent had something to do with it. Ccino would, hopefully, understand.

   Oh!

   "The mask. You are aware who it is for?" He questioned.

   N hummed, before popping away from the stack of wood with a nice chunk of white-ish wood. It reminded Nightmare of cooked fish flesh, a pristine off-white with an intricate pattern.

  

   "I can only imagine it's that guy? Ccino? Good for him with the promotion, by the way. I'm sure he had his fair share of struggles to get there." N replied.

   Nightmare gave a minute nod. He hated that he had a heavy suspicion as to why N already knew Ccino by name. Nefarious plans set by his mother yet again. Bastard woman.

   He debated staying longer. Watching N strip the bark away or making smalltalk.

   In the end, it was better to leave. His hands were still shaking and his gut felt like it'd spill if he felt one more overwhelming emotion from the craftsman he was standing with. So, he bid them a farewell, promised to return in four days time, and exited from that heavy wooden door.

   The trip would be worth it so long as N delivered. And she would.

[startheskelaton]

Weezer

[wreckedhoney]

one of my favorite bits about forrest's whole deal is that he's coming from what's safe to assume a longass background in the entertainment industry but in a much larger and complex scale than what he's dropped in when we play, so narratively he can come across as outright rude and gruff with constantly comparing the town to a big city and absolutely zoning out when people talk to him, but 1) he's openly homesick af, 2) outside of work, he's in what's an incredibly different environment than where he's lived for decades, and 3) he might not actually be used to the majority of his coworkers being as nice as peggy and the others seem to be. others in their positions may generally have bad reputations where he comes from, and he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop and their true colors to show. whistling night accelerated his realizing that at least with some of them, they genuinely are just cool.

[devotioncrater]

people on here want more unhinged middle-aged lesbians where the plot isn't about them being gay, then they refuse to watch Deadloch

[invisible-pink-toast]

do people realise that you can like characters without having to morally defend them??

like misty quigley is a fantastic character - she's awkward, can be sweet, disturbing, cruel, ruthless, intelligent, dorky. there's a lot of layers to her character, just like every character on yellowjackets.

and you are allowed to like her for all her complexities! she is not real! you are not supporting an actual cannibalistic, elder abusing, serial killer! she is a well written character and you do not have to try to convince random strangers on the internet that she is simply "misunderstood"

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 16 first part thoughts (through defeating Dragon and Defiant interlude) cause it seemed likely there is going to be something major happening in the rest of the arc and I might as well split it here:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

MY BABIES ARE FIGHTING!!!!!

I might not have made the best choice in adopting both Taylor and Dragon

Ok so it's not technically my babies fighting. It's Taylor fighting simple AI Dragon created. But close enough.

Drone robot fucked up a perfectly good barbecue. That's just criminal.

I love that the robot sent after Bitch was basically designed to get fucked up over and over. Work with what you have.

Also Bitch was so willing to listen to Skitter! Not just listen but "come up with a plan like you usually do, we’ll make it happen"! She fucking trusts her so much! GAAAAAAAYYYY!

You put Skitter in charge and she is just instantly "Ok we're going to attack the Wards, the Protectorate, the PRT, and some of Dragon's robots. All at the same time. Cause I always gotta go BIGGER!"

I will give her this though - solo teleporting into the middle of the Protectorate and Wards (except for Clockblocker) and having Trickster swap her around while she just FUCKED SHIT UP? That was badass.

And throwing herself out the fucking window? TWICE? I'm very glad Trickster was on point there cause I would have fucking murdered him if he dropped my daughter.

Piggot trying to be all high and mighty and superior. Fuck off lady. You just a cop. You're like, the worst cop. I already called you out for having a full blown villain internal monologue in your first interlude. Some of the PRT might be trying to do right. Maybe. But you are just evil.

I will give Piggot one thing. She is good at what she does. It's just that what she does is not "leading the Brockton Bay PRT and Wards to better take care of the people of the city", but instead "be a terrible and manipulative person who would absolutely set of a nuke if she thought it would kill enough capes".

Also Trickster don't be an asshole. Being disgusted when Piggot admits she's fat and doesn't sound ashamed about it. Fuck off with that. She's a terrible person, there are so many better things to attack than her appearance.

Like the fact that she upset Tattletale! She made Tattletale sad! FUCK PIGGOT I HATE HER FOR THAT ALONE NOW!

Sticking a bunch of glass in some doors and riding around town on them oh my god. These are like, the scariest super villains in town. And they are door surfing. I love it.

Azazel is fucking fancy! I'm sad it got melted down in the end.

Dragon just needed a guy badly cosplaying as a DS9 starship for a few minutes and then she builds infinitely better shit than he ever could. Cause she is awesome.

Ok so I know it was technically being run by an AI that Dragon built but I'm counting it as Dragon. For one reason.

Skitter asking Azazel stupid questions until it broke was just a little sister annoying their older sister with really stupid questions! She starts off with some somewhat reasonable ones and just gets wild with it. It was perfect. That is the type of fighting I can tolerate from my daughters.

I'm a little worried about Imp clearly crushing on Regent. He hasn't had the best moral character in the past.

Wasn't expecting them to just *have* the city after beating Dragon. Definitely wasn't expecting that to happen mid arc.

“She’s out of it. Tattletale broke Skitter when she said we won” - GAY. Look sure there's lots of reasons Skitter would be distracted after hearing that the city was theirs and they had won. But Tattletale said it and there's something about a girl you like telling you "we won" that can just stop brain from working. Besides I wasn't getting enough Chatterbug content this arc so I'll find it wherever I need it.

So coming into this arc I had been making lots of jokes about Monarch referencing Skitter vs Dragon (both were controlling lots of minions, want to control the city, they're siblings cause I adopted both of them so they fight for the crown, etc) but Dragon is out of the city for now. So I really should have been focusing on Coil vs Skitter. Which is what I expect the rest of the arc to be.

It'll be fine.

I'm sure there won't be any issues at city hall with her dad. Nope.

PRT squad interlude (Piggot interlude round 2) thoughts:

Nilbog is terrifying but god his power is wild.

I had Left 4 Dead in my head the entire time. First thing they killed was a boomer. There was a spitter later as well. And they got the swarm once they shot the flare up for the evac.

PRT is endlessly badly managed. Given the unknowns they could have been more careful and used a better strategy. If they have the resources to wall off the town they have the resources to have done things better.

There is no way Thomas Calvert isn't Coil (more specifically becomes Coil). There is NO way. It has to be him. I don't technically have any proof but I know. It's him. (The way he is described, the way he talks, just everything about him. I could write up an entire post just on why I'm 100% positive he is Coil.)

I already knew Piggot was a horrible person to be running the Brockton Bay PRT and the Wards so this interlude didn't really give new information there. But it does just lock that down on an extra level.

Frank Miller's Armsmaster interlude thoughts:

I'm very sad I had to have this interlude from his perspective instead of Dragon's perspective. But I'll live.

Sucks to be this small town.

PRT failure again. It was made clear that the police of this town in no way expected the SH9. But the PRT knew when SH9 left BB and had a loose idea of their potential travel speed. And they knew SH9's M.O. in this situation of staying to back roads and hitting small towns. So every police department in every small town within a certain distance of BB should have known to be on alert. Like ya they aren't going to be able to stop the Nine, but they might be able to reduce losses a little. PRT is just bad at it's job. (Almost like Alexandria doesn't have the right priorities.)

I KNEW DRAGON WAS A TRUE TINKER! I HAD ALREADY MADE IT MY HEADCANON THAT SHE TRIGGERED WHEN LEVIATHAN ATTACKED NEWFOUNDLAND AND I'M SO HAPPY IT'S REAL!

Plugging my ears when I Was Insecure So I Made My Stick Even Longer Man talks about playing "ten by ten" with my robot daughter. Look she can do what she wants, no shame, but I do not want to hear about it from him if I can avoid it.

Of course Dragon knows about Cauldron. I should have expected that she did. My daughter is brilliant (and also maybe doesn't have a concept of privacy so gets all the information she can without explicitly doing something illegal and goes has a little bit of a "Big Sister is watching you" vibe).

[broocksz]

I wanna make posts about audio dramas x utmv stuff but it's such a niche mix THERE'S BARELY A FAN BASE FOR SOME OF THE PODCASTS SJDUWHE

[quitebashfulexe]

Careful he's actually out of the house for once o((⊙﹏⊙))o.

[the-writing-mobster]

| The Most Dangerous Game | Excerpt | 💙🔪💔 |

.

.

.

Frisk glanced up, a shiver that felt like a spider crawling slowly up her spine creeping up through her skin, the static in her feet climbed with it. She sucked in another breath of musty air. 

“Ibrahim?” she called again, forcing away the waver in her voice. 

Her legs moved awkwardly through the maze-like halls of her house. The photo stabbed like thick plastic in the palm of her hand as she searched for their bedroom. The HVAC sighed, and the house seemed to creek with it. 

Her breathing was uncomfortable in her throat. Almost painful. Her feet staggered as if urging her to pick up the pace. At the end of the hall was a large window. Heavy chevron curtains fluttered in the stale A/C. Her eyes were drawn to it. Her heart beat heavy in her chest. 

The hallway felt stretched. Her feet swayed with the new sensation of vertigo, as if she’d go falling downwards. 

There was a long buzz in her ear. Like parking lot fluorescents. Flickering against the far away window. Just past the dark reflection of the musty, chevron hallway… just past the visage of her form staring back at her in that glass… 

She swore she saw the faint outline of bulbous figure, a man, watching her. A grisly beard itched around a giddy grin. His fleshy, wrinkled face was hollowed out by the light and almost made him look like a living corpse. 

The faint glint of his wild sclera flashed at her. His fleshy hand, greened by the hallway light pressed against the window as if to wave to her. 

Her breath hitched. 

Those fleshy fingers began to tap, slowly against the glass. 

Tack… tack… tack…

[antagonisht]

i do think diavolo actually being nice to trish/raising her aus (dadvolo?) are often quite cute and nice to look at and i enjoy it when good things happen to trish but also like. it's hard for me to look at those and think that's something diavolo would ever do so it doesn't tend to interest me much. i'm just like that's an entirely different guy now. which ofc is often the point of an au.

[startheskelaton]

Old friend, still friends