#TIME FOR YOU TO COME ON DOWWWWWN

[grymmnox]

weekly fic recs #5

week number 5! been doing this for like a month now if i’m not mistaken. no incomplete fics this week, just oneshots + complete fics :)

& = platonic, / = romantic

Oneshots

Bloodstained and Gentle Hands; archerwrites - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 2.6k words | chuuya/dazai

summary:

Known as the Demon Prodigy, Dazai’s name was spoken with reverence and fear, and his brutality was second only to the Boss of the Port Mafia himself. He could slice someone to pieces and not so much as flinch. He might even smile.

So why the hell was he bleeding out in Chuuya’s doorway?

Or, Dazai arrives half-dead at Chuuya’s apartment in the middle of the night and Chuuya has no choice but to let the bastard in.

dreams of forgotten memories; Suckerfurfics - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 3.2k words | dazai & oda | READ TAGS

summary:

Oda Sakunosuke has known Dazai Osamu since he moved into the same building as him, but all he can do is watch as the boy repeatedly attempts to destroy himself.

You Have (1460) Missed Messages; Kitsune_Kenma - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 4.1k words | chuuya/dazai, chuuya & the port mafia, kouyou/yosano

summary:

[Chibiko]: oi dazai

[Chibiko]: where the hell are you?!

[Chibiko]: I swear if I come to your house and you’re still asleep I’ll launch you into the stratosphere

[Chibiko]: i’ve checked all your spots in yokohama

You have (1) missed call from Chibiko

[Chibiko]: fuck

[Chibiko]: where are you

Or; Chuuya’s chat and voicemail log throughout the four years after Dazai’s disappearance.

We Got Him; noose_lion - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 1.9k words | atsushi & dazai, the ada & dazai

summary:

Oh," Dazai practically coos, "can you not take care of anything by yourself?"

Atsushi gapes, a growl in chest, taken back by Dazai's sudden vileness.

Okay, ow. That stings.

the taste of love; cherryousama - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 14k words | chuuya/dazai, the ada & chuuya, chuuya & the port mafia, chuuya & akutagawa siblings, atsushi & chuuya, chuuya & kouyou

summary:

Five times cooking is Chuuya's love language, and one time the favour is returned.

open up your heart, like the gates of hell; osachuuzai - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 5.4k words | chuuya/dazai, chuuya & kouyou, chuuya & the port mafia, the ada & chuuya

summary:

Tachihara steps forward, “C-Chuuya-san..?” He waves his hand over the smoke to see properly as he clears his throat. He jumps back yelping with shock when he sees what’s on the other side.

Chuuya.

Five Chuuyas.

[ or : hit by the effects of an ability, chuuya's split into his five core parts. shit goes dowwwwwn ]

By any other name; CatFiends - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 8.1k words | dazai & oda

summary:

Dazai is twenty five when a boy with auburn hair and familiar blue eyes walks into the agency.

Or the post-canon thing where Dazai meets a reincarnated Odasaku.

a simple career change; setosdarkness - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 2.1k words | chuuya/dazai, the ada & chuuya

summary:

Dazai has the flu, but there’s an important case at the Agency. Clearly, the solution here is for Chuuya to go to work in Dazai’s stead.

“…You are here to be what?” “That shitty mackerel is sick,” Chuuya repeats his explanation slowly, for the benefit of this poor guy who’s apparently had the misfortune of being Dazai’s partner in the Agency. “So I’m here in his stead.”

[stand-alone part of the "simple life" verse]

Complete Fics

The Naming of Cats; cyan96 - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 4 chapters | 10.3k words | atsushi & chuuya

summary:

Chuuya does not actually make it a hobby to pick up stray charity cases, now nominally on the side of law and justice or not. There had just been something about the kid, even skin and bones and so undernourished Chuuya could count the blue webbing of blood vessels under his skin, something in his bleach-white hair and the uneven, florescent colour of his eyes that had sent the alarm bells blaring. The reason behind this becomes pretty evident the following morning, when he walks into his living room to see a tiger in place of his couch.

So this is where Kunikida's newest job had been hiding.

Blood on your (pretty, smiling) lips; fanficloverme96 - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 9 chapters | 10.2k words

summary:

[A series of one-shots of mafia!Atsushi AU]

You see, one would think Atsushi has the face that is a direct opposite of that a killer.

Operation: Save Him First; profDarling - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 4 chapters | 8.6k words | chuuya/dazai, dazai & oda, chuuya & oda | READ TAGS

summary:

What if Chuuya remained a stubborn dog, following Dazai through it all? What if he protected Oda, pushing them both away and out of the Port Mafia?

"What a shame, Chuuya-kun," A deep voice purred. "I had such high hopes for you."

AU: Oda lives; at what cost?

O expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave this body of mine!; aptlydapper - bungo stray dogs

teen and up | 3 chapters | 20.9k words | chuuya & dazai, the ada & chuuya, chuuya & the port mafia

summary:

Apparently, Chuuya has a signature(s).

Apparently, removing that signature(s) renders Chuuya basically unrecognizable.

Apparently, this works on everyone.

Chuuya would have liked to know this before getting accidentally recruited.

You Seem Chipper; Anonymous - bungo stray dogs 

teen and up | 3 chapters | (exactly) 10k words | chuuya/dazai, akutagawa/atsushi

summary:

Dazai stopped to look up at the rest of the agency. “What?”

“Um, it’s just...you seem very chipper...” Tanizaki supplied.

A shift in the corner of the room noted Ranpo lifting his eyes, signaling his Ultra Deduction. All the members turned expectantly at the great detective, leaning forward in suspense. “He’s in a relationship.”

They all fell over in unison.

It’s Love On Rewind, Everything Is So Throwback-ish~; sssoukoku - bungo stray dogs

teen | 2 chapters | 3.6k words | chuuya/dazai, the ada & chuuya, the ada & dazai

summary:

And that was that.

Pretty normal for them, right? Kunikida actually felt a little happy at the revelation, but alas, nothing ever goes as peacefully as it was for the Agency. So it was safe to say that the next thing that happened, Kunikida wasn't even surprised it involved Dazai.

Or: They're all quarantined so Kunikida has the awesome idea to hold zoom meetings in order for his coworkers, just so they don't miss anything, and proceeds to have years taken off his life span.

Oh! (what are you doing in my house?!); Heleirylis - the owl house

general | 2 chapters | 17.9k words | hunter & luz, gus & hunter, hunter & willow, gus & luz & willow, eda & hunter

summary:

When Luz Noceda, average teen and imagination extraordinaire finds herself in a fantasy world beyond her wildest (PG) dreams, she has no idea what the Boiling Isles has in store for her.

Nor does Hunter, the scrappy high schooler she’d forcibly befriended a few years beforehand who bears a strange resemblance to the witches of the Boiling Isles.

Well, talk about weird coincidences! Right?

Right?

For we are but made of Clay; Maewn - the dragon prince

teen and up | 30 chapters | 59k words

summary:

Callum dreams of the stars sometimes, bright and glimmering above him. They seem to wink at him, warm and familiar as his room in the castle, with his sketchbooks and drawings and soft bed. Sometimes, he hears a voice, deep and old, in a way he’s come to associate with Primal magic itself. Harrow is his father, but at the same time, Callum knows this voice. Somehow.

[kagejima]

life hack: your kitchen gets cleaned 10x faster if you're blaring hilary duff's metamorphosis album.

i found it for $5 yesterday and while yes I've been listening to it on spotify, something about having physical albums from my childhood makes it sound so much better when you put the cd in. you feel like you're 10 again dancing stupidly in your bedroom 🙃

[svnflowervol666]

harry doing baby bubs hair in the bathroom while she’s facetiming mitch 🥺

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: This made my heart melt. It’s in a puddle on the floor right now. That’s all.

“Baby, ye’ gotta sit still,” Harry huffed as he resituated his daughter on the bathroom counter for probably the fifth time that morning.

She was normally a patient and well-behaved child despite her ripe age of three, but today she was really showing her age.

“Want mummy do it!” she whined, smacking her pudgy toes against the inside of the sink.

“I know ye’ want mummy t’ do it. I want mummy to do it too, but she had t’ go t’ work early. ‘S just me and you today.”

Harry reached for the spray bottle filled with water with his right hand while keeping a firm grasp on his daughter’s unruly head of curly hair with his left, determined to tame the frizzy strands that seemed to have run wild while she slept the night before. A ponytail shouldn’t be this fucking hard. Should it?

He spritzed the bottle a few inches away from her head, trying to smooth down the baby hairs that littered her hair line. And he almost had it. That was, until his daughter tucked her head downward in agitation and caused Harry to lose his grip and the poofy tufts of chocolate brown hair to fall once more around her forehead and ears.

A exaggerated (but not really, it was well-deserved) groan erupted from Harry’s chest, and a feeling of defeat washed over him. He rubbed his tired eyes with the knuckles on his fingers. It wasn’t a big deal and he knew that, but the fact that he couldn’t do his daughter’s hair was making him feel like a failure of a father. 

“What’s it gonna take for ye’ to stop squirmin’, huh? Will ye’ just be good so daddy can do your hair and we can get ya t’ nana’s?”

She was getting restless now, the hard stone making her tiny bum ache and her attention span dwindle down to the point of non-existance.

“Daddy, I want dowwwwwn,” she fussed as she balled her hands into fists and hit them on her knees in protest.

“I’ve got t’ fix your hair, lovie. Can’t have it hangin’ in your eyes. Just be still for a few seconds. Ye’ know what? Here. Play with this.”

Harry fished his cell phone out of his back pocket and placed the sleek device in his child’s lap. He was normally against letting her mess with his phone in fear that she’d accidentally delete an important file or call one of the dozens of influential figures he had saved in his contacts, but at this point he’d do just about anything to make her stop moving so that he could put her damn hair up.

Her eyes seemed to light up when she realized what she now held in her possession, fingers moving quickly to unlock the screen and cause whatever damage her heart desired. It didn’t take her long to realize that unlike her mother’s, Harry’s phone was locked with a passcode and she was unable to get into it.

“Fix it, daddy!” she exclaimed, raising the phone over her shoulder while Harry had finally managed to regather her hair into a somewhat presentable bundle.

He cursed under his breath and let her curly mane go once more, then took the phone back from his daughter. It was unlocked and back in her arms in a few seconds flat, to which Harry’s millionth attempt at corraling the curls he undoubtedly passed down to her began. 

In an instant, she’d forgotten all about how antsy she was, now busying herself by opening random apps that caught her eye and pressing random keys that meant absolutely nothing to her because she was a three year old that couldn’t read, but it didn’t deter her from thinking she was a proper adult doing adult things on her very own cell phone.

Harry let out a sigh of relief when she seemed completely content, reaching once more for the spray bottle to rewet the comb he had been using to smooth over his daughter’s scalp. She put up no fight when he pulled her hair taut against her head, almost as if she had forgotten he was even there as her pudgy fingers tapped away on the glass screen.

The silver lining was now in reach, the finish line only a handful of long strides away. He was satisfied with his work. Sure, there were a few lumps and bumps, but nothing his wife or mother would fuss over, so he raised his arm up to his mouth to pull the neon pink hair band from his wrist with his teeth. As fate would have it, just as he began securing her ponytail with the hair tie, the flimsy elastic snapped and shot to the floor, leaving the toddler’s hair in a bird’s nest on top of her head and Harry’s patience at it’s end. 

“You’ve got t’ be bloody kiddin’ me,” Harry groaned, having to turn his body away from his daughter as if the fuse attached to his last nerve was going to implode at any second. 

He was now certain that whatever higher power in the sky was planning his demise on this bright and sunny Tuesday morning.

With the last bit of his dignity, he knelt down to open the cabinets and rummage through the bin with all of his daughter’s clips and bows until he found another hair tie that would match the outfit he’d picked out for her to wear. He kept a firm hand on her back as he jumbled around the contents of the container, just in case she lost her balance and fell backwards off of the counter (she didn’t really need the extra reinforcement, but he’d not quite been able to shake the over-protective dad persona that he’d adopted whenever she was much smaller and prone to flinging herself backward without warning). There was no additional pink hair tie in sight, so he was forced to go with a bright green one that didn’t compliment what she was wearing in the slightest, but it was just nana’s house, so who gives a shit, he thought to himself. 

As he was regaining his stance from where he was balanced on his haunches, he heard a deep voice that wasn’t his daughter’s echo off the walls of the master bathroom.

“Hey, man! What’s goin’ o-,” the voice, which Harry now recognized as his best friend’s came to an abrupt hault when the camera focused and the man was able to see who was actually facetiming him at seven o’clock in the morning.

“Oh. You’re not Harry,” he toyed, trying to amuse the tiny girl he’d known and loved since the minute she was born.

“Mitchy!” Harry’s daughter yelled directly into the speaker of the phone, causing Mitch to hold his own phone several inches away from where he had it resting on the arm of his sofa.

“Hello, princess. Where’s your dad?”

“Right here,” Harry interjected with a grunt as he willed the pain in his knees (and back) away.

“Sorry, she’s messin’ with m’ phone. Must’ve called you on accident.”

“No worries. ‘S a lovely surprise. What’re you two doin’? You on baby duty this mornin’?” 

Mitch could see Harry messing with the toddler’s hair, a purple comb balanced in between his teeth and locks of wavy, brown hair slipping in and out of the frame as he gathered it on top of her head.

“Yep,” Harry spoke through the comb, “And it’s not goin’ s’ great.”

“Judgin’ by the look on your face, I’d say so.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“Mitchy!” Harry’s daughter called for him again as if to refocus the attention of this conversation back on herself.

“Yessss?”

“I see kitty?” her voice raising an octave as she asked to see the kitten he’d adopted a few months ago that she adored oh so much.

“Kitty’s sleepin’ with Sarah right now, bug. Can’t wake them or they’ll both be grumpy for the rest of the day. Why don’t you come over and visit and you can see all of us? We miss you,” Mitch pouted dramatically at the camera, making the small girl giggle in a way that made him smile right back at her.

He’d always been rather reserved, but had quite the soft spot for his close friend’s bub and couldn’t help but show her all of the affection that he could.

“Daddy, I go to Sarah’s house?” she jerked her head back to look at her father, whose life flashed before his eyes when the sudden movement almost caused his to drop her hair again.

Harry quickly turned her jaw back towards the mirror with his thumb to keep another disaster from occurring.

“Maybe later, petal. You’re going to nana’s today. Daddy and Mitch have to go t’ work.”

“You play songs?”

“Yeah. Gonna play some songs,” he laughed at his daughter’s earnest attempt at understanding what he did for a living.

“Are you bein’ good for ye’ dad?” Mitch asked, seeing Harry’s struggle and doing what he could to distract her while Harry smoothed the final lumps over her delicate head with the fine-toothed comb.

“Yeah, I bein’ good,” she gloated, flashing her tiny baby teeth.

“If that’s what ye’ want to call it,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

He wasn’t quiet enough for Mitch to not hear his snide comment, to which he let out a chuckle towards Harry.

“I take it you’ve got a bit of a fibber on your hands?” Mitch directed at Harry.

“No kiddin’,” Harry huffed, face concentrated on one stubborn tendril of hair that wouldn’t lay flat no matter how many times he brushed over it, “’Ve been trying to put her hair in a bloody ponytail for twenty minutes. I swear I’ve never seen a three year old with this much hair before in m’ life. Don’t know how her mum does this every mornin’.”

“’M afraid that hair’s all you, lover boy. Those curls are unmistakeable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Is your dad good at fixin’ your hair?” Mitch asked the toddler, knowing good and well he was giving leeway for Harry to be teased mercilessly by his ruthless toddler.

“No, I like mummy do my hair more. Daddy pulls it too much.”

“Listen here, you little monster. If ye’ would have sat still for two seconds, this would have been done ages ago and we could’ve been halfway t’ nana’s by now,” Harry stated very matter-of-factly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mitch intervened, “Take it easy, mate. She’s three. It can’t be that bad.”

“I would absolutely love to see you babysit her for twenty-four hours. You’d be choking on your words.”

“I’d love that, actually,” Mitch snided, “What d’ya say, princess? Sleepover at uncle Mitch’s house with Sarah and the kitty?”

The three year old cheered excitedly, her chubby cheeks widening on the sides of her face at the thought of spending time with her favorite people in the world (aside from her mum and dad, of course).

“No, no, no!” Harry yelled frantically, “Hold still. ‘M almost done.”

He quickly looped the brightly-colored elastic around her bunch of hair that he held tightly in his hand as if an imaginary stopwatch was about to go off and signal that he was out of time and he’d lose control of her curls once more, for which he’d certainly burst into tears.

“Aha!” he held his hands above his head in victory when he was satisfied with the number of times he’d wrapped the hair tie around her hair.

“Finally.”

Harry was breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon, making Mitch cheer him on sarcastically.

“Super dad does it again.”

“You’re not funny, Mitch.”

“‘M very funny, actually. Isn’t that right, bubs?”

“Uh-huh!” Harry’s daughter agreed, earning an eye roll from her father.

“Alright, we’re very late. Need t’ get goin’ before Jeff yells at daddy n’ I’m not sure I can handle much more today.”

Harry scooped up the pint-sized child from the sink by the belly and helped her stand, her hands still clasped around the phone surrounded in a baby pink case. 

“See ye’ in a bit yeah?” Harry asked Mitch as he straightened his daughter’s shirt that had crinkled at the hem from sitting on the counter for so long.

“Yeah. Reckon it’s probably time to go wake Sarah. You be good for your dad and nana today. Alright, stinker butt?”

“I not stinky!” the girl cried, almost offended.

“You’re right. ‘M sorry. Your dad’s the stinky one.”

“Goodbyeeeeeeee, Mitch,” Harry sang monotonously into the speaker.

“Bye, Mitchy!” his daughter called after him.

“Bye, sweetheart. See ye’ at the sleepover.”

She began rattling off another excited spout of words, but was cut off as Harry reached down and pressed the red button on the screen, ending the call. He took the phone from her hands and slid it back into his pocket. His daughter was too busy buzzing from the high of being invited over to Mitch’s house to play with his kitten to throw a fit over being deprived of it, to which Harry was thankful.

“Did ye’ put your bunny in your backpack?”

She nodded her head, yes.

“And your blanket?”

She paused, lips pursing as she tried to recall whether or not she stuffed the worn, yet still comforting wad of fabric that she’s had since she was born into her bag.

“Better go check then,” Harry added, watching her as she booked it down the hall towards her room as if she was in a race against herself to make it there.

“Got it!” her tiny voice came trailing back into Harry’s bedroom, the corners of the blanket sticking out from the giant backpack that was nearly the size of her body strapped to her back. 

The sight of her wobbling back into his line of sight with the oversized bag made him want to cry. She was still so tiny, but where had his sweet baby gone?

“Good gir-” he began to praise her before he realized what he was currently looking at.

In the midst of her running, she must have exerted herself a bit too harshly, for her curls that were styled perfectly just minutes ago were floofed around her head in a (not-so angelic) halo and the hair tie had slipped down dangerously low, mere inches from falling completely out.

Her inherited curls were one of the cutest things about her and anyone with even the worst vision would agree. But, god. At what cost?

“-YOUR HAIR!”

[theparanormalperiodical]

7 Horror Movie Tropes You Didn’t Know About - And What They REALLY Mean

The other day, I went for a rather wet walk with my mother.

It was the complete Kent experience: there was a field of rather aggressive cows, there was a mid-morning loo break in a lockdown-squandered pub and there was an overpriced bag of fudge at the end of it.

But in the middle of the hike - just as we passed through a rural farm - my mum pointed something out.

The cornfields still hadn’t been harvested.

I looked around and realised we were in a picture-perfect Halloween scene.

October had just turned, pitching crisp leaves across the farm tracks. There were dark clouds brewing in the sky. And the thick, stretches of cornrows completed the image.

And I couldn’t help but wonder-

*insert Sexy and the City reference*

Why are corn fields such a staple of horror film scenery? Is it the sign of a rural location? Is it the height and depth of the stalks suggest creeps and creatures lurk within?

Let’s go deep into the maze of our favourite horror tropes. And see if we make it out alive.

The Evil Clown

This trope twists a staple memory from all of our childhoods and plays upon the dark reality of predators in our society. But it also draws upon real, monster clowns: ever heard of John Wayne Gacey? He was one of America’s most notorious serial killers and sex offenders who donned an alter ego as a familiar children’s entertainer to cover his heinous acts.

It’s been leveraged in countless films, from IT to All Hallow’s Eve, all of which subvert the traditional, bright-coloured garb for gothic, Victorian style. But the colour palette only adds to the fear of strange, older men that slap on an alien disguise and hang around groups of children.

The monster clown sits amongst other takes on childhood nostalgia, from vintage toy jumpscares to the plain ol’ possessed girl. That being said, most kids - hell, most people - aren’t fond of clowns. Nevertheless, it still snatches something from our nostalgia and corrupts it.

The Crazy Girl No One Believes

Aside from the occasional anomaly, you don’t often get many killer clowns. A majority of tropes exist exclusively behind the camera lens. Unfortunately, all of the one’s involving women are far too often all too real.

A bit like this trope.

She’s hysterical. She has no clue what she’s talking about. She’s just doing it for attention.

Or maybe, they just ignore her instead of coming up with some outdated response to her cries for help. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman’s opinion was overlooked.

The Invisible Man is a great example of this: convinced she’s suffering from PTSD and severe anxiety, the friends of a woman that just escaped from an abusive relationship send her to a mental health facility when she claims her ex is following her. And is now invisible.

No Mobile Phone Coverage

I’m not sure anyone predicted how reliant we would all become on mobile phones. I’m writing this blogpost whilst simultaneously watching a YT compilation of the BBC’s Ghosts.

Back in the early noughties, no bars on your flipphone was a classic sign shit was about to go dowwwwwn. But these days, this trope is more realistic than ever.

Despite this symbolic nature of having no reception in a rural, unknown location and therefore having to rely on potential-serial-killer randoms, it also chimes with the reality of terrifying events. During terrorist attacks like 9/11 and the 7/7 London bombings, mobile phone coverage reportedly dropped as a result of high demand on mobile networks.

Not being able to contact the emergency services or your loved ones during such a traumatic, scary moment probably defeats any other horror trope that made it to this article.

The Girl That Runs - And Then Falls

It’s hard enough being the crazy chick no one believes. But when you do happen run away from the monster you’ve warned everyone about, you suddenly lose all ability to maintain balance.

The trope obviously attempts to keep up suspense during a dramatic scene. It succumbs into our frustrations as the serial killer closes in on the young, limber, virginal college student after a soapy shower scene sticky with the male gaze.

But more than that, I’m pretty sure this is another misogynistic take on women in film. As in women literally cannot run without falling over. Not only is this known to play on sexual violence, I’m pretty sure it also mirrors the Final Girl trope.

We will get to her later.

If you were being chased down by a vampire-murderer-cult-leader, your adrenaline would kick in and effectively unleash your fight-or-flight mode. This natural ability to survive an attack is often associated with the male body during horror films, especially as the final girl typically takes on male characteristics to survive the threat at the end of the film.

Watching a girl fail to successfully run away is an indicator that she is a damsel in distress and certainly cannot live up to the male standards of fitness.

The Final Girl

She’s probably the most famous - no, scratch that, infamous - feature of the horror genre. Entire books have been dedicated to analysing her struggle, but here’s what you need to know.

🎃She’s a good girl - AKA a virgin - and is therefore superior to the bimbo-esque, deserve-to-die friends she surrounds herself with.

🎃She only survives/takes down the monster at the end of the film by assuming male features.

🎃OR she gets saved by the strapping male protagonist like the pathetic woman she is.

It’s a bit like a wish-list for everything the ideal woman should be.

Either an innocent young girl that validates the male audience as the saviours, or she unlearns her pesky female traits and just lives up to being “the better sex”.

Death By Sex

The final girl makes it through 90 minutes. Her friends, on the other hand, barely make it past the 20 minute mark.

That’s because they’re sluts. They’re whores. They’re b*tches.

That being said, death by sex isn’t just considered a punishment for being a bimbo, nor does it suggest young people are distracted by their desperation to get laid.

It’s also believed to have its origins in the 1980s, with the AIDS epidemic. It’s a metaphor for when sex sometimes resulted in illness and death. The scaremongering probably echoes the tactics of sex education that promoted celibacy and created an even bigger culture of blame on the LGBT+ community for HIV.

Creepy-Ass Cornfields

Corn mazes are a staple of the end of summer and beginning of autumn, fitting the timing of Halloween neatly. But cornfields also match up with the trope of a vast, dead forest that the characters always happen to get lost in.

They’re endless. They conceal what lies within. They’re miles away from civilisation.

Many horror novels and films have directly tacked onto the cornfield storyline, such as Children of the Corn.

Is there a trope that I missed?

Make sure you let me know down in a comment. If you liked this post, make sure you like and reblog.

Want to hear somethin’ spooky every Saturday? Make sure you hit follow.

[ack-affection]

Chapter 1

Doctor Deathdefy: "woah woah!

Looks like there's a turf war on the west side between ZapLithium and Matchbox - Mayhem!!!

Let's see how this shit goes dowwwwwn!!!"

Planetery Go blasts from Mayhem's car radio.

Lithium: *laughing*

Mayhem: "your smile's gonna be dust soon, so say your prayers battery brat!!"

Lithium: "suck my dick fire hazard!!"

Lithium attempts to shoot Mayhem with some fancy fucking taser gun. Mayhem dodges, barely missing the sparks and bolts.

Mayhem: "agh!! Punk ass!!"

Mayhem hops over the hood of his car and takes cover.

Mayhem under his breath: "try this one on for size shit face-"

He bites the pic out of a grenade painted red-orange and throws it over his shoulder at Lithium. Mayhem covers his ears and gives a big smile. The grenade explodes almost instantly, blowing up Lithium's car.

Lithium: "motherfucker!!"

Mayhem pops his head up from under the cover of his car and laughs childishly.

Lithium starts to run towards him.

A car comes out of nowhere and hits Lithium, killing him instantly and flinging his limp body at least 20 feet away.

Mayhem stands there behind his car jaw dropped.

Mayhem: "what the fu-"

Stranger: "get in. We need to get the hell out of here fast, that noise gotta have all the dracs and scarecrows within 20 miles on their way."

Mayhem couldn't make out his face from under the black bandana but he had icy green eyes. Other than that he had jet black hair that fell messily in his face.

Mayhem: "and just who the fuc-"

Stranger:

"GET IN BLI IS ON OUR ASS HURRY "

He yanks Mayhem into the passenger seat and slams on the gas.

Mayhem looks over his shoulder.

Mayhem: "FUCK!"

An army of around 50 something dracs are behind them, enough that you cant count them.

Stranger: "Hold on tight."

The stranger smashed his brakes and turns the wheel hard drifting it turning it towards the dracs and smashed the gas.

Stranger: "better duck your head."

The stranger tunes in to Dr. Death's radio station just for the end of the song.

Car plows straight down the middle of the army taking out as many as possible.

Mayhem falls back in the seat. The stranger keeps going straight and past the army of dracs and turns down the radio.

Mayhem sits in the passenger seat shaking.

Stranger: "you good there?"

He slows down a bit.

Stranger: "the compound is just a few miles out, we'll be there soon. Or it used to be a compound, before the raid."

Stranger: "now everyone's dead."

Mayhem sits in the front seat shaking and biting into his bleeding finger.

Stranger: "Stop doing that if you bite it off i can't just sew it back on. Hard to pull a trigger without a finger."

Mayhem continues as if he can't hear the stranger.

Stranger: "Hey."

He pulls over to the side of the dirt road.

Mayhem sits there still shaking.

The stranger cupped mayhem's cheek.

Stranger: "hey, stop destroying yourself."

Stranger: " you can relax, the dracs are gone now."

Mayhem grabbed the stranger's hand still breathing heavily. He pushed it away.

Mayhem: "ugh, get your grimy paws off me"

Mayhem: "and just who the hell are you anyway?! Huh?"

The stranger backed off.

Stranger: "I'm the guy who just saved your fucking life, and is about to be supplying your next meal."

The stranger starts up the car again.

Stranger: "the compound is stocked with loads of supplies.. we're not far."

Mayhem stared out the window for a minute.

Mayhem: "..thanks."

The stranger gazed at Mayhem and smiled softly, and continued driving.

The stranger tuned in to Doctor D's radio station.

Doctor Deathdefy: "Close call for a lot of killjoys on the west side today!

Ain't no rest for the wicked!!

Stay safe down there, and

remember the west- is crawlin with dracs!

Deathde-"

The radio cuts out before he can finish.

Mayhem: ".. thanks for taking care of battery brat. "

Stranger: "ha! Don't mention it."

Stranger: "so what brings you out on this side of the desert this time of evening?"

Mayhem: "Lithium."

Mayhem: "he's been invading my turf. Trying to get my grenades and what not."

Stranger: "surprised he got off his ass and stopped soaking up all that radiation."

Mayhem laughed.

Mayhem: "yeah. Just to be a piece of shit, how sad."

They drive a little while farther until they reach the compound.

Stranger: "alright here we are."

He stops his car at the gate.

Stranger: "all right, so just who the hell are you anyway?"

Mayhem: "I asked you first."

Stranger: "fair enough."

Stranger: "I'm Deadstar, but you can just call me Dead. K?"

Mayhem: "psh, ok."

There was a short silence.

Deadstar: "..and you are?"

Mayhem: "Matchbox Mayhem. Surprised you haven't heard of me. Hell, with as many massacres ive been involved in."

Mayhem turned to see Dead desperately trying to fix his hair in the mirror.

Mayhem tried to hold in his laughter.

He laughed quietly under his breath.

Deadstar: "alright."

He said sitting back in the driver seat still gazing at the mirror.

Mayhem: "Ready for prom princess?"

Mayhem said sarcastically.

Deadstar: "oh, you know it."

He chuckled.

Mayhem smiled.

'I think I can grow to like this guy'

He thought to himself.

Deadstar got out of the driver's seat.

Mayhem started to unbuckle his seat belt and before he knew it, Dead had hopped over the hood of the car and opened his door for him.

Mayhem hesitated awkwardly.

Mayhem: "uh.. thanks."

Deadstar smiled softly and shut the door behind Mayhem.

Mayhem walked up to the door and looked around.

Deadstar: "home sweet home, amiright?"

Mayhem chuckled under his breath.

Deadstar opened the door for Mayhem. Again. Mayhem gave him a small thoughtful glance.

Mayhem walks in and takes a look around.

Mayhem: "Nice set up ya got here."

Deadstar: "thanks. Oh and there's food in the fridge over there. Make yourself at home."

Mayhem: "Really? Hell, thanks man."

Mayhem went over to the fridge and started stuffing his face in the doorway of it.

Deadstar tried to hold in his laughter.

Mayhem closed the fridge, and walked over to Dead, who was sitting on the couch.

Mayhem: "So how did you find me?."

Dead: "pff, with all that noise you were making how did i not find you?"

Mayhem: "mm."

There was a silence for a second.

Mayhem: "why did you save me?.."

Dead: "I'm not the type to leave people for dead."

Mayhem: "Ha, good to know."

Dead: "it's getting late. Here, I'll show you to the bedroom."

Mayhem: "oh, ok-"

Dead walked Mayhem down the hall past 5 other rooms to the last door.

He opened the door letting Mayhem in.

Dead: "here ya go."

It was a brick room with a decent sized bed in the center.

A few alcohol bottles littered on the floor by the entrance.

Mayhem: "Wait, so where are you sleeping?"

Dead: "oh, I figured you could sleep in here and I'd sleep on the couch."

Mayhem: "oh.. you sure?"

Dead: "yeah, you're good."

Mayhem shrugged.

Mayhem: "alright. Thanks again man."

Dead gave a soft smile.

Dead: "No problem. Goodnight!"

He left and closed the door behind him.

Mayhem took a look around and dropped himself on the bed.

He started to drift off to sleep, letting his guard down for the first time in a while.

#dangerdays #fanfic #Killjoys #mcr #punk #postapoc #mychemicalromance #emo