#this story is a bit creepy

[wanderingmind867]

(Batman #344): When I said Ivy's story gets dark, this is what I meant. She turned a man into a shambling plant monster. She's so creepy to me. Poison Ivy isn't necessarily a bad villain, but she just really freaks me out sometimes.

On the plus side, check out gene colan's perfectly atmospheric artwork here. It's beautiful. Gene Colan did great art for Daredevil and Dracula and Doctor Strange and Howard the Duck and so many others. I feel like his Batman work stays on trend for him. His shadow work is amazing, and he really knows how to command the page with cinematic artwork. i'm not actually any good with artwork, but he's one of the artists who imprinted on me vividly. His artwork is amazing.

[pearlore]

been really enjoying gem's vintage story streams :>

[demaparbat-hp]

When I saw you making For the Spirits art I was so excited, wow, one of my favourite artists is reading this too, how nice!! Then I realised you’re actually the author and I just want to ask, how?? Are you so talented???? I love this fic and I love your art so so much, thank you for sharing it all with us. Can’t wait for the next update!!

Ah, thank you! This is literally so sweet! For the Spirits (adding a link for the curious folks out there!) is my love child. This project owns my heart and soul, and it's truly so rewarding that you like it! I want to sketch so many different scenes, really, but I'm doing my best to give you some quality artwork of my favorite moments in the story. It's a slow process.

As for next chapter—soon! I'm working on some sketches for this particular scene, and I am so excited to share it with everyone! Things start to pick up from here... But, for now, have a (very little) sneak peek ❤️

Zuko stood at the end of the world, surrounded by miles of snow and the resounding echo of his own shallow breaths. He took everything in, closed his eyes to receive Agni’s light, and howled.

Something howled back, and he smiled.

[kilgarraghforever]

I am genuinely really enjoying seeing people who have clearly never read the Odyssey before reacting to EPIC's Ithaca saga. I haven't listened to EPIC myself (yet) but people keep saying stuff like "Odyseeus built their palace around an olive tree he carved into his and Penelope's marriage bed that's so symbolic" and "He really just murdered all the suitors wouldn't that piss off their parents?" Which are observations and questions that the Odyssey makes incredibly blatantly clear as to the symbolism or the answer because it's a really old poem and subtlety wasn't really Homer's strong suit.

There's something really endearing about seeing people interact with the Odyssey through the same way the Ancient Greeks did - a bard singing the story of Odyseus' nostos.

(I gather the details have changed a little, but that's what happens with oral storytelling, and that's how the Odyssey got created in the first place)

Also as congratulations have my favourite ancient depiction of Odysseus surfing with two amphemorae having stolen Poseidon's trident, being sped along by Boreas, stark naked except for a cloak he's holding onto.

[catastrophic29]

As a certified horror movie hater, I really hope the sunrise on the reaping film reads just a little like a horror movie.

[ghost-bxrd]

I’ve been getting really into magical stuff recently and also DC so I’m just gonna drop this here:

Fae Dick Grayson

F A E

okay so fae stories are special to me because I grew up on hearing pagan folklore and fairytales about fae and fae adjacent creatures as good night stories so hooo boy yes I adore that trope! (I mean, I made Dick a Banshee in my fic Shuck so… hehe)

Anyway, Fae Dick Grayson! There’s just so many things you can do with it ✨

Robin appears from one day to the next, following in Batman’s shadow like a mischievous sprite, so honestly rumors have been going wild about him since day one. Robin actually being something non-human doesn’t really come as a surprise!

The fae folk are known for being awfully good at blending in with regular humans when they put their mind to it, the only thing that puts them apart (in most stories) is their otherworldly beauty, and Dick Grayson? Well, he’s definitely got that in abundance.

Just sometimes, when the light reflects off a surface in just the right way, when someone pours a glass of water and you happen to look right through the spray, or when you think you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye and you spin around— but there’s only Dick Grayson, even if a second ago you could have sworn you saw eyes where there weren’t supposed to be any; colors that aren’t supposed to exist; feathers where only skin has any right to be.

And, gods, all the talking. Dick is terrifyingly good at talking to people without actually saying anything, to the point where you walk away from the conversation feeling utterly drained after spilling your entire life story but when you think back on it— you can’t remember him ever telling you anything about himself. You know there were the usual pleasantries of “hi” and “nice to meet you” and “how are you doing?” but anything beyond that just kinda… seemed to spill out of you? It’s very strange. It’s very unnerving. By the end of the evening you other convince yourself you’re overreacting or you simply push the incident out of your mind altogether.

And there’s another thing about Dick. His name.

He only ever introduces himself as Dick Grayson/Robin. Never Richard. Never. Especially not Richard John. Names are sacred for the fae folk, names have power, so while Richard John Grayson may not be Dick’s true name, he treats it as such to honor his parents. None are allowed to use it. None except Bruce or Alfred on special occasion.

Of course, Dick’s “true” name isn’t exactly a secret so when someone does happen to use it… well, Dick may be… other… but he’s still intrinsically good in a way many of his kind don’t have the patience to be. Dick judges on a case by case basis, just like his parents and Bruce taught him. And usually people do not mean it maliciously when they use his name so he kindly corrects them and that’s that. But oh man, if they still insist on calling him “Richard”? Well..

“Oh no, it seems your credit card is being declined, sir!”

“Sheesh, you tripped over a root? In Gotham?!”

“What do you mean ten birds flew into your window last night? You live on floor level!”

“Dude I’m telling you that rash doesn’t look normal.”

“I… don’t think crows are supposed to follow you like that.”

It’s little things (most of the time, unless you really pissed Dick off) but they keep piling up, slowly driving you insane. You feel like you’re being watched, but it’s just a bird sitting on the window sill again. You feel like someone moved all your furniture just slightly to the right even tho you checked all the cameras.

The fae are kind, but they are also vindictive when crossed.

(Thanks to Bruce, however, I think Dick’s bouts of “vengeance” rarely go much farther than that though.)

Dang ok that ended up being an entire rant… wow. Anyway, yeah. Fae.

[invested-in-your-future]

Well, it's real. The story beat is actually there, and the narrative knows.

Congratulations, Ave Mujica, I underestimated your game, but you surprised me.

[dovesick]

(lost in translation) moxie is 25 years old, and his girlfriend is in hospital. he wants to see her before she dies, but the hospital is a dangerous place. upon entering her room, he can see 3 doctors around her bed. but, when they turn towards him, their faces are completely blank. fear takes ahold of him, and all he can hear are his girlfriend’s last words “i wish i’d never taken you back!”

[skyheld]

they could have kept just a hint of the original creepy vibes of haven in dai. just some skeletons in a closet or something

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Bury Your Gays

Horror

a scriptwriter in hollywood who’s getting attention & an Oscar nom after working in the industry for years, but is being pressured by algorithm-obsessed producers to kill off the queer characters in the season finale of the show he writes

and when he starts getting stalked by the monsters he wrote (based on traumas of his past) he has to figure out how to survive, along with his best friend and boyfriend

[adaines-furious-feast]

I realised last night who the Senior Year big bad will be.

It's not Aguefort, or Bakarath, or anybody set up in the epilogue. It's not even Chungledown Bim.

It's going to be a former ally that has helped the Bad Kids out of a serious situation on more than one occasion. It's a character that will have meta knowledge that they are, in fact, in a game of DnD. They're a character that even the gods despise.

Senior Year BBEG is obviously going to be K2.

[good-beanswrites]

Haruka getting possessed and while he is he’s causing chaos and he throws Shidou like a rag doll

👀👀👀 Ohhh this got my brain spinning... (I went for ghost possession scene before hearing your angel/demon thoughts, but both have so much potential omg) Thank you for the ask pal!!

Shidou rolled over in his sheets, perfectly prepared to continue sleeping until the shadow staring at him from outside his cell jump started his pulse.

His hand instinctively shot to the side of the bed before he realized he wasn’t in his home, and this wasn’t an intruder. “Wh-what –” the hell? “What is the matter?” Thanks to years of practice his voice stayed entirely steady.

There was only silence in reply.

He placed a palm on his chest, taking a steady breath. He squinted at the shape of the silhouette against the bars. “Kusunoki-kun, is that you? Is everything alright?”

Her head shook. 

“...Okay. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He got out of bed, looking around for his first aid kit.

“It’s Haruka-kun,” she said, her voice hushed. It was as if she were afraid to be heard, but they both knew the warden was asleep by now.

“Is he injured?” It was a good sign that Muu hadn’t seemed frantic, but middle of the night doctor calls were never good. 

“He… hasn’t been himself. The way he’s acting, the things he’s doing…” She paused, trying to choose her words. “Muu is scared…”

Grabbing his supplies, Shidou joined her in the doorway. He placed a hand on her shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s always frightening when someone you love is going through this. Depression and stress often cause people to act in strange ways. They seem like they’re entirely different people.”

Muu shook her head again, this time with more urgency.

“Shidou-san. Do you…” she looked like she was getting up her courage. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” He blinked. “If Sakurai-kun is saying it was something otherworldly that hurt him, he probably wants to spare you the pain of the truth. That he –”

“– That wasn’t Muu’s question!” She clasped her hands together, looking over her shoulder at the empty panopticon. “Do you believe they exist?”

Shidou frowned. He wasn’t the spiritual type. As any grieving man, he’d catch glimpses of his son around the prison now and then. It was a natural, neurological response to the guilt and distress they were under – even Kazui admitted to thinking he saw his wife around the dark corridors. 

Shidou opened his mouth to reply. 

A scream echoed into the dark. Yuno’s. 

Muu ran into Shidou’s cell as he tried to leave, pushing him back. “It’s not him!” She cried as Shidou tore himself away. “It’s not Haruka!”

He burst out, making it only a step or two before he froze.

Haruka stood a few feet away, an arm raised post-strike. Yuno scrambled away from him on the ground. She made it to her feet, running to Shidou. She had no visible injuries, but her eyes had never looked so panicked before.

“I just wanted to help. I saw him struggling and I just – and he –”

Muu’s arm reached out from the cell and pulled Yuno inside. Shidou let her go, turning his attention back to Haruka. The others were just coming to their doors to see what the screaming had been about. 

“Friends… All these friends…” Haruka’s breathing was heavy. Shidou cursed himself for letting Muu’s words cloud his judgment, but it truly did sound as if it wasn’t his own voice, as if he were playing a part. “All these friends and it still wasn’t enough? Greedy… You’re so greedy…”

Psychological breaks look different in everyone, Shidou reminded himself. Haruka was scared. That was why he hit Yuno. That was why he was speaking strangely now. He was doubting who was friend or foe and lashing out regardless. Shidou had seen this countless times. 

He didn’t know why he felt the need to rationalize things.

“Why…” The boy was hugging himself. “I was your friend… so why?”

Shidou stepped forward. Haruka’s head snapped up to look at him. “Stay back!”

“Sakurai-kun, it’s alright. I’m going to come a bit closer.” He placed the first aid kit on the ground, showing Haruka his empty hands. “I’m not going to harm you. It’s dark, so I would like to get a good look at you. I want to be sure –”

Haruka howled with laughter. It was unbearably bitter, and quickly dissolved into more heaving breaths of rage. “That’s what this has always been about! You want to look? LOOK!”

The floor beneath Shidou trembled. The lights in the panopticon flickered. The guard’s tower in the center, which had laid dormant along with Es, now rumbled to life. The huge spotlight moved on its own. It flashed through the room, the blinding beam landing on Haruka.

He certainly didn’t look like himself, either. His eyes were wild, and the light reflected oddly in them. His body was held with more confidence. More anger. His frown twitched, as if he wasn’t used to using those muscles in that way.

Shidou was having a harder time rationalizing things. 

“I just want to help you.”

“That’s all I ever wanted!” He shrieked. He balled his hands into fists. “All I ever wanted was to be there for him! And look what happened to me!”

 He screamed once, and the prison bell rang along with him. It shouldn’t have been ringing at this hour.

Then, a sudden calm settled over him. His arms dropped at his sides. The tower light flickered once, then shut off. The prison was plunged into complete darkness. The others, who’d been watching in stunned silence from a distance, gasped.

“It’s what will happen to you, too.”

It was the last thing Shidou heard before he felt something slam into him from the side. His feet left the ground. Haruka hadn’t laid a hand on him, nor would he have the strength to throw him like that, and yet he careened through the air until connecting with the guard’s tower.

His head throbbed. He couldn’t draw himself up. He groaned in pain. The prisoners called to him, and he heard running footsteps.

Shidou made a sound of protest as Haruka’s hands wrapped around his throat. 

Not-Haruka spoke again. “If I wasn’t good enough for him, no one is.” 

“You won’t look at him ever again.” 

[mochapanda]

finished chapter 1 of higurashi jesus fucking christ man

[iowafashionweekbegins]

"all of us are like shinji ikari, people hate him because theyre reminded of themselves" speak for yourself 😭 personally i do not see myself in a 14 year old boy who sees girls his age as stand-ins for unmet social, emotional, and sexual needs, and who willingly commits physical and sexual violence against them as a punishment for feeling personally slighted by them, but you do you i guess??

[annokan]

Old 2015 version

A young man was sitting on a concrete block, lacing up his rollerblades. His hands were shaking with excitement. He had been thinking about this upcoming moment for several years. Tightening the tongue of his skate, he stood up and rolled forward slightly. He looked around. The building he was in was once supposed to be a small shopping center, but the company went bankrupt and left the building in an unfinished state. This place had been his refuge ever since.

His appearance was not remarkable: disheveled long black hair and always tired gray eyes with an eternal, distant look. He was wearing an old, tattered sweatshirt and dark pants, in which some small holes were already visible, undoubtedly the result of street fights.

Taking the claw hammer, he swung it a couple of times and quietly muttered, barely smiling, "Everything should go perfectly; it would be a shame to end up in that damned hospital with a broken leg again."

At a young age, he was hit by a car, resulting in hospitalization. At that time, there were many war veterans there. Every day, he heard their groans, cries of agony, and curses when they realized that their limbs could not be saved. This moment stuck in his subconscious; he felt a certain detachment from reality, his consciousness slowly peeling away from his brain. At least that's how he described it to his overprotective mother. Like any mother, she was worried about her son, but she did not consider therapists and psychologists to be real doctors and treated his mental health in her own way. She worked as a court assistant lawyer and often brought pictures from her work. These were photographs of crime scenes, and she thought that by showing them to her son, the boy would not consider blood or corpses, for that matter, as something scary. She was always too close for his comfort.

Ruffling his hair sharply with his free hand, he shook his head. He didn't want these memories to ruin his night. He glanced at his belongings lying on a nearby cement block. A shabby backpack, a couple of trinkets and his old hockey stick. He grinned, taking the hockey stick and putting it in the case on his back that wrapped around his torso. He glanced at his watch. 2:34, time to act. Leaving the abandoned building, he skated on a deserted road.

With every second, emotions of immense joy filled him more and more, although he had not even reached his goal yet. He had not felt such bursting emotions for a long time; they were comparable to those he felt when he learned to roller-skate. 

He considered skates an extension of himself and felt awkward not wearing them. After all, he could run away or catch up with anyone when he was wearing them. He especially enjoyed it when he skated away from a salesman after stealing a sandwich or chips from him. His friends praised him for his agility and speed. However, they were hooligans and often fought and abused stray animals. He didn't spend much time with them; he believed that animals should not be tortured. All human beings, even children, are born spoiled and prone to cruelty, while animals do not have human thoughts and a thirst for sadism. He was so obsessed with this philosophy that the smell of cooked meat started to make him vomit. 

A girl appeared on the horizon. No older than 25, she wore a short dress that barely covered her bottom. She stared at her phone, typing something on it. She didn't care about the slightly cool wind or the completely empty road on which she stood. He was looking for her.

He leaned a little, gaining speed, and squeezed the hammer in his hand while whistling a simple classic tune.

"Hey, Oli-dolly! You're not a man? Why are you refusing meat? Should I knock the crap out of you? Frigging princess, all polite, quiet, well-mannered. You fight like a girl too." Words ringed in his head. If he was provoked, he had no brakes; he was ready to fight to the death. That moment in the past was no exception either. The long refusal of food made him more sullen, any bullying addressed to him angered him more easily than usual; when he grappled with the leader of their gang, he couldn't restrain himself and, out of hatred, bit off part of his opponent's cheek. In that instance, he realized how to live, everything seemed to fall into place for him, as if with the snap of fingers. Undoubtedly, all people are corrupt, but there are those who do not even try to pretend to be correct and give themselves over to their pleasures and sadistic inclinations. What if there was a way to erase them from existence completely? After all, their soul cannot exist outside their flesh, just burying the corpse won't be enough.

A dull sound echoed down the street. The girl fell to the ground. There was a pause as Oli slowly lowered his arm after the blow. He thought he would behave like the killers from the films, laugh loudly, shake with happiness, and burst into loud speeches. Yet he stood quietly, watching his victim, a slight shiver of adrenaline running through his body. Blood dripped down her silky blonde hair. She raised her head, looking in disbelief and horror at the teenager in front of her.

"O-oli?! Why... why did you do that?"

Tears poured out of her eyes. Not waiting for an answer, she got up, wobbling, and rushed in the opposite direction from him. He skated smoothly behind her, wondering how long she could run with a smashed head. She could not scream out words from the stupor of fear. However, when she gained strength, seeing the light in the windows of a house in the distance, Oli took out his hockey stick and knocked the girl down with it. She fell, face on the ground.

He hit the girl on the back with his weapon, so she couldn't make any more loud sounds. The man moved in front of her face, waiting for her to lift her bloody head up.

Sofia didn't do anything bad to him. She was very close to him, playing the role of an older sister to him and other street children in their area. Occasionally, she made snarky, playful remarks to them when they engaged in various hooliganism. However, Oli always considered her useless. She was from a dysfunctional family, of no use to anyone, bringing nothing to society. Only a rich family man wanted her body. No one will remember her or miss her. Therefore, he chose her as his first project, a kind of realization of his philosophy; it became his passion and meaning, without which he could not live.  --

"Did you guys hear? That maniac, Hitblade, killed someone again. Like, the quiet one from sociology, Rebecca or Raven was it." An anxious brown-haired girl sat down at the table where four of her classmates were having lunch.

"They haven't caught him yet? How hard is it to catch a cannibal on roller skates? Our police are completely slacking." Her red-haired classmate sitting opposite her answered displeasedly.

"I recently heard from a youtuber he ended up beating and eating his mother when he was a teen, even lived with her corpse for months, but these are just speculations, and these crimes are stated to not be related. Eh, don't worry, you look too young to be his next target." the third talkative classmate whispered, sneering awkwardly.

"Ahem, guys, I'm scared you know, I work the evening shift, what if he kills me?" The brunette muttered anxiously.

"Yes, I'm worried about you, Miriam. Oh, I have an idea! What if I accompany you after work to your home? I will be passing by there anyway, need to return a book to a friend." The black-haired guy said with notes of concern in his voice, moving his laptop away.

"You know, it's a good idea. He never attacks girls who're with someone. I finish at 22:00 you know the place." she said calming down.

"Of course." He answered with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Oli!"

[fangjuexias]

Live-Action Murder Mystery Audio Drama S1 || Theme Song "Impure Land"

制作人：kami@Kami-kkkk、红泥小火炉@一梦还江月 策划：红泥小火炉@一梦还江月 作词：红泥小火炉@一梦还江月 作曲/编曲：Kami@Kami-kkkk 演唱：呈安Bryan@呈安Bryan 和声：呈安Bryan@呈安Bryan 混音：兜爷 海报设计：荒寺@高阶社恐用户汤 字幕： OCIR·字幕组@OCIR·字幕组

先把你捞出 后将你烹煮 又把你拆解入了腹 轻轻为你换了骨 再走这路途 黄泉也为你回溯 回溯你呀 你无辜 踏入不归处

什么、什么、什么、什么在退出 什么、什么、什么、什么在停驻 什么、什么、什么、什么都已糊涂 还尤嫌不足

什么、什么、什么、什么曾有所述 什么、什么、什么、什么其罪当诛 什么、什么、什么、什么本性无度 还嫌腥臭脏秽土

先把你禁锢 后将你拥簇 又把你血肉融了烛 轻轻为你缝了补 再走这路途 慈航也为你普渡 普渡你呀 你无辜 踏入不归处

什么、什么、什么、什么在退出 什么、什么、什么、什么在停驻 什么、什么、什么、什么都已糊涂 还尤嫌不足

什么、什么、什么、什么曾有所述 什么、什么、什么、什么其罪当诛 什么、什么、什么、什么本性无度 还嫌腥臭脏秽土