#but then there's the horrors (typing it up after)

[cl0udy-wolf]

Here’s an idea I’ve had in my head

so the reader (m or f) and Liu Kang are sleeping together, the reader wakes up in the middle of the night to find Liu not next to them. But as they look around the room they see Liu Kangs glowing white eyes in the corner and it scares them LOLLLLLL but he’s just like “hi there” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

THIS IS SO SILLY. thank you for this.

His glowing white orbs

(I didn't know what to name this 💀)

Trigger warnings?: none unless you count Liu Kang's headlights. also gn reader/no pronouns are used for the reader

You had finally convinced Liu Kang to watch horror movies with you. In particular, the Paranormal Activity series- Johnny had recommened them. You weren't too excited to head to bed right after watching people get killed by demons and ghosts and the like, but you had already stayed up past your usual time, and required your rest in preparation for the next day.

As always, you pulled the covers over yourself and snuggled right next to Liu Kang, soothed by his warmth and by the protection he offered during the night.

But that warmth was gone a few hours in.

The bed was cold, next to you, which pulled you from your restful sleep.

And so you rose from bed, rubbing your eyes as you let out a sleepy call for your beloved.

"Liu Kang?"

You glanced around the room. Your eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, but then-

"By the Elder Gods!"

You exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest.

Two little...glow-y things stared at you from the corner. And after those movies you had just watched...

You were a little shaken, to say the least.

But then you heard a very familar voice.

"My love, is everything alright?"

Liu Kang sounded slightly worried but also a little amused.

He quickly did away with that grin on his face.

He had to admit, it was a little funny.

Even a god could admit that.

Once you realized it was just him, you let out a deep sigh of relief and lightly punched his shoulder once he came to check on you.

"You scared me."

"I'm sorry, my love." And he gently kissed your forehead.

"Don't do that ever again...I thought it was one of those things in our room."

"There is no need to worry. Perhaps next time we shouldn't watch those types of films before bed. You seem to have an active imagination." He smiled, and instantly you felt any negative emotions disappear, replaced with fondness for his cute little smile.

"Maybe you're right." Or maybe you just like to torture yourself. I mean, who watches scary movies before bed?! (I do.)

You both finally got back into your cozy bed, and Liu Kang promised not to scare you again.

But even a god could be a little mischievous at times.

Thank you so much for the request! And I hope you like what I've written for you :)

divider from this post.

[inkspiredwriting]

A Strand of Silver

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Y/n Hargreeves was having one of those mornings. You know the type: spilled coffee, mismatched socks, and the eternal struggle to find her keys. As she rushed into the bathroom to get ready for the day, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Normally, she didn’t scrutinize her reflection too much, but today, something shiny caught her eye.

“Wait, what?” Y/n muttered, leaning closer to the mirror.

There, in the midst of her hair, was a single, unmistakable strand of silver. She plucked it out and held it up to the light, squinting at it as if it were some foreign object.

“Oh, no,” she groaned, her voice tinged with melodrama. “I’m turning into my mother!”

Just as Y/n was contemplating her impending transformation into a full-fledged silver fox, Five Hargreeves walked into the bathroom, his shirt half-tucked and his tie in a state of disarray.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he asked, eyebrow arched in amusement.

Y/n turned to him, holding up the gray hair as if it were evidence of a crime. “Look at this!” she said, her tone a mix of shock and horror. “Gray hair! I’m only 35!”

Five peered at the hair, then back at Y/n, a smirk spreading across his face. “Welcome to the club, darling. Want me to dye mine gray so we can match?”

Y/n glared at him, though her lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “It’s not funny, Five. I thought I had more time before this started happening.”

Five leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Oh, it’s hilarious. You’re acting like this is the end of the world.”

Y/n huffed, tossing the gray hair into the sink. “You’re supposed to be supportive, not laugh at me.”

Five’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “I am supportive. I support the fact that you’re still gorgeous, gray hair and all.”

Their playful banter was interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by a muffled “Sorry!” Y/n sighed, recognizing the chaos as her brother-in-law Klaus’s doing.

“Maybe I should just let my hair go completely gray,” she muttered, “and scare the life out of Klaus.”

Five laughed, stepping closer to her. “Klaus would probably think it’s cool and start a new trend.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but laugh, too. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Five wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “Listen, I love you, gray hair and all. Actually, it’s kind of sexy. Makes you look distinguished.”

Y/n snorted, leaning into him. “You’re such a liar.”

“Nope, just a man with great taste,” Five replied, kissing the top of her head.

As they headed into the kitchen to see what chaos awaited them, Y/n tried to push the gray hair out of her mind. It was just one strand, after all. How bad could it be?

Klaus, Luther, and Diego were in the middle of a heated debate over who had the best waffle recipe when Five and Y/n entered the kitchen. Luther was holding a spatula like a weapon, and Klaus was dramatically waving a bottle of syrup around.

“Hey, guys,” Y/n said, trying to sound casual. “Do you think gray hair makes me look older?”

The room went silent as all eyes turned to her. Luther looked thoughtful, Diego just shrugged, and Klaus... well, Klaus being Klaus, decided to take it to the next level.

“Oh, honey,” Klaus said, rushing over to examine Y/n’s hair, “I think it makes you look even more fabulous. Very... royal. Like a queen!”

“Like the Queen of England,” Diego added with a smirk, earning a punch on the arm from Luther.

Five burst out laughing, shaking his head. “You see, Y/n? Nothing to worry about. You’ve got the whole royal approval right here.”

Y/n shook her head, trying not to laugh. “I’m going to regret asking, aren’t I?”

Later that evening, when the chaos had settled and they were alone again, Five and Y/n found themselves back in the bathroom. Y/n was brushing her teeth, and Five was leaning against the counter, watching her with a soft smile.

“You know,” he said, his voice thoughtful, “I used to think that life was all about big moments. Saving the world, traveling through time, stopping apocalypses.”

Y/n looked at him through the mirror, raising an eyebrow. “And now?”

“Now I know it’s about the little things,” Five continued. “Like finding a gray hair and freaking out about it. Or laughing about it with you.”

Y/n rinsed her mouth and turned to face him. “You’re surprisingly sentimental tonight.”

Five shrugged, pulling her into a gentle embrace. “Just thinking about how much I love you. And how that won’t change, no matter how many gray hairs you find.”

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart swelling with affection. “I love you, too, Five. Even if you laugh at my gray hair.”

Five chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Deal. Now, how about we find that hair dye, just in case?”

Y/n laughed, swatting his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Guilty as charged,” Five said with a grin. “But you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Y/n smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “No, I wouldn’t. Now, let’s get to bed before Klaus decides to redecorate the kitchen again.”

With that, they headed to their bedroom, their laughter echoing through the house. It had been a day full of surprises and laughter, and as they curled up together, Y/n knew that no matter what the future held, she could face it all with Five by her side

[bumblebeehug]

Nursing home au… Natsu and Lucy meet as old people, Lucy lived a life of regret and wishes she had lived more — she always wanted to write a novel. Natsu, who’s captivated by Lucy’s eyes and her big personality, and the way she’s friends with everyone in the building, he tries to impress her by telling her all of his great adventures. Some are exaggerated, but they’re never lies. Lucy loves it, she often sits and waits for him at every meal so he can tell her more stories. In fact, she gets so inspired that she starts outlining her own adventure — written this time, with her in it (it’ll naturally become the Fairy Tail as we know it hehe).

They spend their days like this, but at some point Natsu gets curious about Lucy’s life: how did a pretty, successful woman like her end up in a nursing home alone? Lucy tells him, though she prefaces it by telling him that her life wasn’t nearly as fun as his: she grew up rich, her father fixed an arranged marriage for her as soon as she turns 18, and she spends her youth learning all about her husbands business. She admits that it wasn’t a happy marriage but it was civil and she had a child with him. She, however, refused her father’s traditional treatment. Her daughter was to see the world, experience all the things she never got to see. By the time her child was an adult and moved out, her husband died. Young, sadly, but in Lucy’s horror she realised that for the first time ever, she was free of worry. So she spent her time dedicated to growing her late husband’s business, and one day she got a letter from her daughter that told her all about her new family on the other continent. They seemed happy, but Lucy didn’t know their language so when she realised that she had a hard time managing normal household tasks, she left her mansion and went to this nursing home. Surprisingly, she tells Natsu that it’s now her life really felt like it started. No longer chained to her past, talking to people in a normal manner, hearing the amazing lives other people led — she even sneaks in that she wanted to be a journalist for a while, but that she never got around to it.

In return Natsu told his life story. He too had a rough start, abandoned in the woods and picked up by an odd community, but that he quickly found ways to make pocket money. When he had his money he realised that there was nothing stopping him from seeing the world — and that he did. He admits to never actually finding anyone to settle with, other than this cat he had in his youth, but that he had a couple of flighty romances before he went on to the next place. That if there’s anything he regrets it’s not stopping and smelling the flowers. He feels as if he was running from something his entire life, from commitment. But in the end his body begged for mercy, and after a couple of friends’ coercion he agreed to finally land. Nursing home it was.

Lucy felt for him, she really did. She had used her business to escape her world, too scared to leave it completely, but too fed up to feel attached. Natsu knew that she would have switched places with him in a heartbeat, but he also knew that he had wanted to meet her earlier. Maybe if they met as young he would have settled down. He could have appreciated the slow life, the type of life where he came home to a safe embrace and warm food on the table, and in exchange he’d bring her to as many adventures as she wanted.

One day the workers find that they’ve both passed. Likely at the same time. As they clean out Lucy’s room they find a note, written in Natsu’s old, shaky handwriting: “let’s go on adventures together”.

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Harley Quinn, former bad guy, anti-hero and unemployed therapist chases after Nightwing (Dick Grayson) as he tries to get away from her while on patrol.

Nightwing: Stop chasing me!

Harley: Then have a chat with me!

Nightwing: How did you find me!

Harley: Babs told me.

Nightwing stops running causing Harley to halt her running as well. He puts his index finger up and presses his communication device.

Nightwing: Babs, what the heck?

Oracle: She begged me and I can't say no when she pinpoints my mental health issues! Just let her spend some time with you.

Nightwing looks down at Harley who has a big smile on her face. He runs the other direction as Poison Ivy walks over to the group while watching 'Little Shop of Horrors' on her phone.

Ivy: He caved yet?

Harley: Not now, babes. Follow me.

Harley chasses after Nightwing. Her girlfriend casually walked behind her.

Harley: Stop running! Why are you running?!

Nightwing: Because I don't want you touching me! I am not a piece of meat!

Harley: I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you were uncomfortable with the butt smacks!

Nightwing: I was very vocal about it!

Harley: Do you think that stems with some trauma in your past?

Nightwing: Stop therapizing me!

Ivy (pausing her movie): This is the smartest approach, Harley.

Harley: Ivy, not now!

Nightwing runs around Ivy and uses her as shield, then shoves her on Harley.

Nightwing: You chasing me doesn't prove your point.

Harley (pushing Ivy off of her): Let me make amends.

Nightwing(whining): NOOOO!

Harley: I made a full bill of health at Arkham. And I may not have the diploma, but I can be your-

Nightwing (in angry romani): Me sem bahtalo tumare progresosa, numaj te aven dur mandar!

Harley: What?

Nightwing stops at a fence and turns to Harley.

Nightwing: I said, "I am happy with your progress, but stay away from me for now!" It... It will take some time. Okay?

Nightwing jumps a fence and keeps running.

Nightwing (over his shoulder): Bye!

Ivy: See ya, kid.

Harley: But... Shit!

Harley tries to climb the fence, but Ivy, best friend and girlfriend uses a vine on her hip before she jumps the fence.

Ivy: Harley, don’t do that impulsive thought.

Harley: But they need a therapist. All of them, Jacey ran from me, now Nightwing? Why can’t I catch a break?

Ivy: If I may, it has something to do with working with the joker, who killed one of them, tortures the batfamily on an annual basis... oh and you won’t take a hint to give them space.

Harley glares at her girlfriend.

Harley: It was a rhetorical question!

Ivy (chuckling dryly): Aww, Harls, you know I don’t care about that. He did say it takes time, he's saying you have a chance, but at this moment of time, no. Remember I’m not dumb either. I worked more in science for botany over what you do, but I can see when someone doesn’t want to talk or want your therapy services.

Harley groans, bending back: You’re right, I’ll give 'em space. Plus you didn't say I slept with my professor.

Ivy: Please, you wouldn't degrade yourself like that... Get with a homicidal lunatic who thinks clown makeup is scary, but you are not the type who tries to get easy A’s in school.

Harley: Damn straight!

[shellswritesstuff]

squad damocles hand holding hcs!!! i love these three so much

꒰sᴍ𝟸 ᴛʀɪᴏ ʜᴄs! - ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴀɴᴅs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ s/ᴏ꒱ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

ah how sweet and heartwarming!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ pls hold these guys close, the horrors of the 40k universe must do numbers to their mental,,, id faint even seeing a cherub HSAJK- 

Gadriel

Tries to be nonchalant about it. 'Oops, didn't mean to touch your hand..' type deal.

You don't buy it for a moment, though. If it was such an accident, why is it happening for the third time this week?

After a few more attempts at playing the cool guy facade, you go ahead and make the first move. 

"You're so cute, Gadriel." You shoot him a knowing look, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Oh, and that was an accident, too." 

You'd run away, leaving the space marine behind. 

Next time you wouldn't get away that easy. He'd grab your hand just before you would take off, and offer a rare smile. 

Bonus points if Chairon happens to be walking by when it all goes down. He is NEVER gonna let him live that one down! "Oi, Lover Boy." 

Chairon

A lot more straightforward than Gadriel. Who knows if he'll be here tomorrow? He makes it a point to tell you how he feels before it's too late.

Chairon holds your hands, one of his more than enough to encompass both of yours. He'll bring them to his face, your knuckles feeling the texture of his surprisingly soft lips.

He's a romantic at heart, one in a million in this world. Will pick you an exotic flower from whatever plant he was dispatched to. (This may or may not have lead to a fire in the barge. Captain Acheran scolded him about "getting laid at th expense of his brothers.")

 He now settles for pretty rocks. A radiation risk waiting to happen, but I digress.

"I made sure to thoroughly clean off the guts this time." Chairon would lean against the door, surprising you with an early return. "I and don't just mean myself."

Titus

Imagine you're out assisting his squad on a mission. (Okay, lore accurate maybe not but work with me here. ;;) You hang back, providing fire from behind Titus, picking off any snipers. 

You're too concentrated on your lover that you failed to notice the two hormagaunts jumping for your skull. 

Titus, the knight in shining blueberry armor he is, rushes over to your rescue. He throws the first tyranid to the dirt, stomping it flat. You heard its thorax collapse under the weight of his boot, it's structure cracking and crumbling like rotten wood. 

Once that was dealt with, Titus snatched the second bug out of the air. He put his hands on either side of its head, plunging his thumbs into it's now oozing eye sockets. As you fell backwards, your lover ripped the monster in half. The sight of it's organs stretching to accommodate the tear; it almost made you throw up.

"Are you alright?" Titus dropped the corpse to the ground, forgetting it in favor of you. You gazed up at him, your bloodied protector held out a hand for you to take. 

And that's the story of how you first held hands with Titus. It was a lot more romantic to the man then it was to you. 

[b4kuch1n]

siren

[lunarharp]

played dragon age 2...just simple scribbles

[cordialsilence]

obsessed with how these are all the same character

[curiosity-killed]

i know i’ve rambled about this before but I think about it a lot with the various like “can reptiles/fish/non cat/dog pets ACTUALLY love you back” posts and articles about how to tell when your cat loves you and I just sometimes think it’s a little silly to act like love is both this grand ineffable mystery in regards to pets (or people) and something to be measured and assessed

like does Baloo let me hold her paw for a long time (a Measure of Trust according to many articles)? No, she doesn’t really like having her paws touched. But when she gets her head stuck in the back of a chair or her scarf’s caught on something, she stills the moment I touch her head and lets me—a big, strange creature (who frankly often runs into furniture and doorframes)—manipulate the most fragile and vital part of her body in order to help her.

love is an action imo. your dog doesn’t need to be able to comprehend the words ‘I love you’ to feel loved, and your snake doesn’t need to purr to show that it trusts you and likes being around you. love is going to look a little different in every setting and trying to both box it in and demand it meet certain criteria is just...kind of dumb

[thegreatyin]

y'know, it probably feels weird for the scoundrel to admit, but they feel surprisingly comforted to be back on their ship for a change. they finally have control of the situation, they're finally around people they (vaguely) trust, they- wait a minute hold on what was that line

oh

oh no

oh no the horrors just keep getting worse and worse for them

[hecksupremechips]

My madoka magica hot take is I like sayaka/kyoko as a ship more than madoka/homura

[ilyarataka]

i seriously think its crazy sanji spent 2 years on Queer Island then came back parting his hair the same way his mom did and i just start tapping my chin in thought like .. what did oda mean by this?

[autisticrosewilson]

First of all, you have given me so much to work with, thank you so much. Second of all, I’m really glad you could see where I was going with Grant’s real test not actually being about killing Slade. Third of all, I absolutely love what you’ve suggested with the powers and I am currently designing met gala esque outfits for the trio and Tara’s specifically is really fun to play around with. I’ve been thinking to show they’re becoming more divine I’ll change their hair and eye colours but not their faces for the most part. I was drawing robin Jason with Natalia and decided he should have brown eyes and a crooked nose from breaking it as a kid but once he returns his eyes get weird (eg go blue and occasionally other colours), a patch of his hair went white and he lost all of his scars. Also, I think the closer they get to divinity I’m gonna draw cracks on their body that glow with their specific colours just to hammer home how they’re shedding their mortal forms.

With Tara being able to see the strings of fate, I though it’d be fun to give her a harp and then with Jason having the see no evil trait I thought it’d be fun to give him weighing scales since lady justice wears a blindfold. Idk what to give Grant though. I mean probably a weapon of some sort or maybe a Shepard’s crook that he can turn into a scythe to play into the sheep, wolf, Hunter thing.

With Jason and Tara’s splintering, I love the idea of them making fun of Grant for being the baby god. He hasn’t even had a cult yet, gosh he’s so young. Also them being besties just holds a special place in my heart.

And I just came up with this, of course they have parallels to the trinity but in universe rumours of their existence have been around much longer than Bruce, Clark and Diana. They’re the big three of the justice league but these guys are justice gods. So they start calling themselves the justice trinity but then people get confused about which trinity is which because the justice leagues’ trinity sounds awfully close to the justice gods’ trinity. The new all caste is certainly more distinctive branding but the point isn’t to be distinctive, it’s to be petty.

I'm so glad my unmedicated rambling helped!!! And I'm so excited for the outfits!!! I love when characters start becoming less and less human, when they're stuck in that uncanny valley spot of not quite human but not entirely Other, when they lose control and the cracks start to show...um I should probably give a warning for slight body horror elements. Not in the gore sense, in the "this body is not made of flesh and there is something divine clawing it's way out". Uh also there are teeth. Just. Teeth. I dipped into a little bit of cosmic horror at the end there because I wanted to cover my bases with mixed mythologies

Jason, with his defined splinters, is usually depicted with three faces in ancient texts. The Child, gaunt and dark colored, is said to appear before the downtrodden and impoverished. The few stories remaining tell of kindly people who give him an offering, and in exchange he reveals his true form, with his crown of golden ivy and beautiful strong wings to gift them bounties of food and water and riches. Other stories tell of not so kind encounters, where The Child witnesses an injustice - typically against women or children - and again reveals his true form, one with clawed hands and a mouth dripping with blood. Scholars argue what the wings looked like, but whichever All-Caste member annotated it before has compared their likeness to either a Robin or a Shrike.

There's also The Ghost, He appears young at first glance, but his hair is wirey and gray, his eyes milky and unseeing, in bloodied armor he greets the souls of the damned as they're delivered to him, and with scarred hands he wipes the tears of children taken too soon. Accounts of this face are few and far between, but all of them are entrenched in sorrow.

Finally there is The Soldier, scarred and still smoking from the ruins of battle he emerges, giving voice to the weak and resources to the needy. He champions revolutionaries and philosophers first, a strategist who delights in the liberation of the people from corrupt systems. Accounts of him usually come from times of famine and war, and he was particularly popular with poor villages, who would mark the graves of their dead with the symbol of his sword as offerings. For some reason or other, he got particularly popular with the youth, girls and boys both seemed to pray for him and leave him offerings.

The way these manifest on Jason is subtle at first. I could go the body horror route, but I won't. Yet. Instead I think his splinters show up as reflections, shadows, imprints. The faint echo of bell-like laughter when Jason does a move he learned as Robin, the image of a younger him with longer hair and unblinking eyes staring at him in the mirror. It gets worse when he gets the blades, the white streaks his hair, the swirling mark covers more of his skin every time he uses them, he trails the scent of smoke and blood behind him like a signature. His scars...they should disappear. They have for everyone else who used the pit, but instead his skin starts cracking. Any place he's ever been scarred glowing cracks break up his skin. He can't feel them, but he's always aware of them, the meaning behind them, the divinity literally leaking through his body. His eyes aren't brown anymore. They aren't even green. He looks in the mirror and they are copper, molten and burning. He tries his best to keep his mask on.

What do you think of when you imagine the word divinity? Probably something like Tara. Something with skin carved from stone, with moss and fungus crawling up her legs and snow laden shoulders. They say her hair is made of swirling clouds and the sun and moon are her eyes.

Some say she's a nymph although no one knows what kind. You're just as likely to see her name among the naiads as the dryads. Whether flowers bloom where she dances or waves crash when she sings, she's known to be more vicious towards suitors than her sisters.

Others have said she's a faerie, who takes the faces of lost daughters and lovers, slipping into their places seamlessly, forcing unruly men to pay their dues. Others say she's a shifter of a different sort, with a shawl of feathers and a crown of twine and gems. Stories range from men trying to steal her coat (and paying dearly) to lost children returned safely home on the back of a swan.

Tara doesn't think about it at first, the way gravity tends to cede to her, she doesn't notice how sunflowers turn their faces towards her instead of the sun. She doesn't notice the way her face...shifts. it's imperceptible really, and it's not like she looks in the mirror all that often. But everyone around her notices it, on some level, the way her expressions are off. A little too exaggerated. The way her limbs bend just a little too oddly. The way she never looks quite the same as she did the day before, the way she picks up features from the people around her the way she picks up rocks from ground to add to her collection. Clay molded subtly into the image of those she loves, a museum of everyone she's ever met. She does notice when her hair starts going white at the ends, the strange way her hair starts to curl unnaturally, almost floating. She's not so upset about her eyes, the deep blue of her father that has glared down at her day after day, she has changed her hair, her face, her language but she could not change her eyes. It seems she didn't have to, when she wakes up with one a little too silver to be gray and one a little too gold to be brown. And then her skin starts splitting, a cavern made from a broken rib and ravines made by the slashing of knives. She doesn't even bleed anymore, they never scab over. They crystallize, amber like ambrosia, like ichor. Her body a geode waiting to be cracked open to let the thing within finally break free.

They know the least about Grant, whatever he used to be. Half written scrolls, torn or burnt or simply stopped abruptly, illegible journal entries with symbols never recorded in any known language, half finished sketches where the details are never quite clear. A few things are usually consistent though, signs that he's been there, usually from hunters down on their luck or the particularly old and sickly. First, the howling. Like a wolf or a storm, although later accounts would add that it occasionally sounds like a mechanical whirring. Then the rabbits, dead and gutted, but not a trace of blood. Piles of them left in heaps on doorsteps or windowsills. Some have reported knocking at strange hours or finding teeth in their homes, a mix of human and animal. There is one photo on record, the most recent thing in the archive most likely, of claw marks on the side of a barn, too big and oddly serrated, certainly not from anything native to the area. Elderly that report these phenomena typically pass from heart problems within the week, according to some of the old medical files.

Grant came back wrong. Physically, at least. He knows that he's still himself for the most part, dying didn't make him a selfish asshole he did that all on his own, but...but something is wrong with him. It's the way lightbulbs flicker when he's mad and how cameras, no matter the quality, never quite get a clear shot of him. The way Joey can't ever grasp his features, not fully, the details slipping from his mind like water. The way eyes on his face slide right past, unable to look directly at him. It's in the gray spreading from his roots and his eyes too wide and dark to belong to something human. It's the way death clings to him like a second skin, sickly and pallid turning the tips of his fingers gray. His teeth are starting to feel too sharp for his mouth, and he hears things no one else does, whispers of voices that Are Not and Can't Be. The worst part is the orange, liquid candlelight under his skin, lighting up all of his veins and scars, webbing together like the world's worst game of connect the dots. No, there is no mistaking him for something human, so there is no reason to try. If this is his fate then he will take it, because he is not a sheep and he will not be a wolf, he is a hunter, and he is hungry.

[katabay]

Do you have specific fiction authors that you like to read? What aspects of a story make you want to really dig your fingers in it? Is it horror?

I’ve got a couple! Keigo Higashino for sure. anything Naoki Urasawa does: I will be reading it. Priest (Guardian and Mo Du are all time favorites). also KJ Charles and Andrew A Smith!

ngl I don’t really have a concrete list of favorite fiction writers, I spent several days thinking about this one: like, I have favorite books for sure, but I don’t often find myself considering an author to be a favorite just because their book blew my mind. I’ve only read three of Andrew A Smith’s works, but he’s here because he gave an interview years that changed my entire approach to storytelling, and I still revisit it whenever I start editing a story.

honestly the big thing is that I like character!! I like compelling characters (extremely varied definition of compelling, it doesn’t have to be much, but it does have to have something) I like it when something goes full throttle into whatever it wants to be. I’ll watch a slow paced slice of life romance with the same amount of enthusiasm that I had for Devil Judge, and the 1vs10 beat down in Ipman takes up just as much space in my brain as the ‘let’s not see each other from now on,’ breakup in the Heirs (but for extremely different reasons lmao)

however. if I have to pick something more thematically specific: I like seeing people in power get what they have coming to them, I like explorations and confrontations of political and social injustices. kingdom is one of my favorite shows, and the horror is great, but it was the political-class-power aspect of it that solidified it as a memorable watch to me. kamen rider build did something fundamental to the circuitry of my brain. etc.

[triglycercule]

murder time trio come back from killing some guy (me) and dust just pulls out a rainbow cleaning duster and starts dusting himself off. horror questions him. he says it's self care

[viralarcadian]

okay i think i get why ppl went so gaga for supernatural. these early season 1 eps are nice and easy, very good at drawing you in if youre into monster of the week/murder mystery combo stuff. very reminiscent of buffy and x files

don't know why everyone went gaga for castiel when the hook-handed serial killer preacher is a much stronger and cooler concept