#sure would be a shame if murder plots follow them wherever they go

[a-mage-ing]

barry the quokka, the murder magnet detective

[forthechubbies]

Mrs. Jeon Vol 3

Synopsis• One nightstand gone Marriage!? The past catches up with Yn when her head over heels husband finds his lost bride and will keep her by any means necessary.

Category's•Violent Thoughts, Hostel Behavior, Nsfw (Later), and Bratty Jungkook.

Duos• Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Vol 1, 2, 3, 4,

What’s going on down there? It sounds restlessly calm. You could hear muffled voices but nothing more; you aren't too keen on testing your luck and sneak into the corridor to eavesdrop on their conversation. Pretty sure the door is locked anyway.

Instead, You took note of the confined walls surrounding you. A typical master bedroom accessorized an earthy decor, cute mini-plants placed in various room areas, two tiny pet turtles in a tank constructed into a giant wooden bookshelf.

Speaking of books, talk about books galore. The shelved books had little to no wiggle room aside from the one empty slot belonging to the open novel on the nightstand. The owner won’t mind you partaking in one quick gander-

“Ah!” You gasp, fixing your eyes on your newly treated ankle. For a minute, you just about forgot this crazy abducted situation your in. The bedsprings dip as you flop back into the spot where Jimin left you. Jimin was the man you fell on during your first attempt at freedom; he was even generous enough to bandage with utmost care.

A kind gesture a particular bunny wasn’t too thrilled on seeing, Jungkook's face soured while watching Jimin’s filthy little womanizing hands caressing the delicate soft plushy skin of his carrot’s legs.

Son of a bitch trying to cop a feel on his wife, Jimin’s flirtatious persona, led him out to be a well-known heartthrob but often seen as a gigolo through certain people's point of view and, frankly, Jungkook's wife won't be a victim of the Jimin Effect.

Crash!

The smash of a glass object-making contact with the hard marble kitchen floor snatched Jimin’s and your attention giving it to the irritable bunny who’s psychotically enthusiastic about testing his progress in strength by snapping his hyung’s neck-

Oh, no, his carrot looks frightened-He shouldn't do such a brutal act of love with his wife nearby; her poor innocent heart might shatter. No violence...At least for the time being.

Next thing you know, Jungkook's face lightened up, and even when Jimin bit his head off for breaking one of Jin’s fancy dinnerware, his facial expression persisted undaunted. Jungkook kept a serene masquerade, but through closer observation, he clenched his jaw at Jimin’s hand on cradling the small of his wife’s back, guiding her into hiding in the upper part of the house for a reason unknown.

Jungkook let Jimin take you no-fuss included, Hence, Your encaged situation. For all, you know, The men were downstairs plotting a far-flung strategy to murder you making it look like a battle of defense.

Though, You were more occupied by another Crack for the floor down below. ” Ahh!” You cried out, falling back on the bed once again.

Meanwhile, Downstairs.

”Stop! Breaking Hyung’s plates, or we're both as good as dead!” Jimin growled. ”Quit avoiding the question! Who the hell is that woman!? Did you hurt her!? Why-!” Jimin asked Jungkook until his cheeks burned a reddish hue, and his neck veins were dominant.

In one swift breath, Jungkook responded. “ She’s Mrs.Jeon. My wife.”

Jimin knew his maknae had a few loose screws in his head, but this is getting out of hand.

”Wife?! Do you know how old you are!? Kook, You just turn twenty-three-”

”So What.” Jungkook interrupted. ”You want me to wait until I’m an ancient fart like Hyung to get married.”

”Pffft.” Jimin pressed his lips into a thin line suppressing his need to laugh. ”Ahem, respect your elders-You little brat.”

Amidst the brothers at each other's throats, another member of the maknae line awakened from his mid-morning nap; drowsy eyed Kim Taehyung waddled upstairs to check up on his Hyung living in the room above him.

He could have sworn a faint scream is what he heard-Well; there's no harm in checking.

You jumped at the squeaky hinges of the door opening. Wait, it was unlocked!? Expecting the uninvited visitor to be Jungkook, You raised a pillow over your head, ready to be hurled-to your amazement; it was a completely different man.

A long-haired male with long chocolate locks kept at bay by a beige headband; his attire was disarray. His tank top hung off his shoulder, slightly creased in his pajama pant’s waistband.

Adorable, to say the least, the poor thing’s eyes weren’t even fully open yet, the pretty pink pout of his lips nearly forced an” Aw” from yours.

”Who are you?” He grumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

Sweet mother of deep, He stood a few feet away, but the raspiness and depth of his voice caused your insides to start quivering.

”I’m-I’m the sand fairy.” You choked out, fluttering the tips of your fingers as if spreading magic dust. ” I'm here to ensure all your dreams are sweet. ”

You nibbled your lip nervously, hoping he takes the bait. He yawned in response dragging his exhausted body across the room to you; he halts. You gulped, staring up at him; you felt like a mouse about to pounce on by a tiger.

”H-H-I!” You yelped.

The man took no real investment in your fib; instead, he decided to reap the benefits of how soft and plushy you are by laying his head on your bare thighs. He wiggled in place to reach maximum comfort.

”Ah.” He moaned, falling back to sleep.

Oh, dear.

………

The sound of the hyung’s arrival made the two maknae gulp.

First in the door was Hoseok, hands full grocery bags ” Come help! Quick, save the ice cream if it isn't soup by now.”

Namjoon followed behind. ” I told Jin not to get the ice cream first-He knows how he gets with his coupons.”

”The worst part is he got upset when we told him that's enough food then told to stay in the car.” Yoongi stretched out the pins and needles feeling in his limbs.

”You may say that's enough now, but when that brat comes, he's going to eat us out of house and home!” Jin scolded, unconsciously fetching the rest of the bags.

Jin froze, staring at Jungkook, helping put the food in the correct places. He didn't hesitate to smother his baby boy in a hug, but right after, he jabbed Jungkook's gut.

”Oof!” Jungkook doubled over, gripping his chest. ” I missed you too,” He coughed.

Jin stood tall. ” And there's plenty more where that came from once Hoseok gets his hands on you.”

Anyone but Hoseok.

” I heard Jk!” Hoseok rushed Jungkook a bear hug. ” Thank goodness you're alright!” He jabbed in his Jungkook's gut. ” Where the hell have you been?!”

Jungkook groaned. ” Ou-Ouch..I won't be able to tell you if I keep getting hit.” He cleared his throat. ”America.”

”America!” The hyungs blared out.

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. ” What possessed you to go there on your own? Have you forgotten what you are?”

Jungkook sighed. “ I know, I know, but I just envy normal people around my age having the freedom to go wherever they want.”

“ But you’re not," Yoongi brutally minced Jungkook’s sob story. He’s not particularly fond of beating around the bush, especially when dealing with his brothers earlier this afternoon. “ Unlike ‘normal’ twenty-year-olds, you are adored by army who would be upset if anything happened to you.”

Jungkook bowed his head in shame; the thought of army never really crossed his mind.

“And-“ Yoongi continued. “ There are crazies in every country, so what made you think heading off on your own would be alright!?”

“Why America?” Namjoon’s brow jumped as the gears in his head began to turn. “ Out of all the beautiful places we visited-You chose the U.S? What was there that you had to leave without an explanation?”

Namjoon stared at Jungkook’s eyes not in a malicious sense, just a habit when trying to figure out a solution or, in this case, a missing clue to the reason his little brother hopped up and left.

“Twinkats (Twinkies),” Jimin laughed nervously. “ I bet his suitcase is full of them.”

Sadly, Jimin’s fairy charm wouldn’t work this time. Jungkook is drowning in deep waters, and there’s no salvage coming for miles; at this rate, Jungkook had two options: tell the truth, orrrr, run away with his loving wife in his arms.

Not gonna lie; Jungkook leaned towards the second option, but the fates had another plan.

”Hyung! Hyung! Namjoon-Hyungie!!” Taehyung screamed bloody murder, sprinting downstairs minus jumping the last five steps. ” Her ankle is purple!”

Taehyung paused, breathing heavily in front of the kitchen where the interrogation is being held, accompanied by a woman injured cradled in his arms, more worried about him dropping than her throbbing ankle.

Taehyung had the room’s undivided attention, and Jungkook’s enviousness scowl; his wife was clinging on to another man like a baby koala to its mother but had it been him, she would scratch his eyes out.

Let's not mention the fact! It seems like she's only wearing a shirt, and guess who the owner is, not him!

” Who-”

”What-”

”Why”

” How!?”

Before getting into details about the hyung's reaction to their new houseguest, let's first take a detour to Prince Taehyung mini rescue adventure.

A good hour in, Taehyung woke up from the best nap of his life to beautiful damsel sniffles and tears. The sweetheart asked what was wrong and nodded as the damsel explained, coming to realize she was in distress. Prince Taehyung aided the beauty with new clothes and tied a red ribbon into her hair….beacause he thought it would look pretty (Shrugs).

However, her ankle injury required a different source of help, so who else to ask but his favorite Hyung? But he couldn't find Yoongi in his room, so he decided to ask Namjoon instead.

Back to the original story

Taehyung explains the truth unconsciously, throwing his little brother under the bus.

Jin’s eye twitched as he peered at Jungkook, who was attempting to slip out of the kitchen. ” You little sh-!”

Let's just say Jin didn't nearly beat Jungkook almost half to death with a rice paddle while shouting numerous insults to bruise a thousand men’s pride in a second.

It went silent after Jin banished Jungkook to the beach house a few feet from the house until he wanted to see his face again. Namjoon took it upon himself to introduce the gang.

You politely shared a warm hello but wished nothing more to go home.

[theladyofdeath]

In the Bleak Midwinter {10}

A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.

Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.

A/N: pretty sure shit’s about to go down...we’ve reached the middle of this 20 chapter fic! thank you all for reading, reblogging, liking, etc. I thrive on your comments and excitement. x

All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.

**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.

Links & masterlists:

Fanfic Masterlist

Ask me

The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}

In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}

Aelin sat by Vaughan’s side, nearly nonstop, for two days. He was still breathing steadily, and the doctor said he should wake up, but it would be when he was ready, and he hadn’t yet, which only increased Aelin’s anxiety, and she could hardly take any more anxiety.

It was nearly nightfall on Saturday evening, and Aelin knew she should join the others for dinner, but she had no appetite. The others cared for Vaughan, too, of course, but Aelin was the one who felt responsible for what had happened, even though everyone had told her not to think such things.

She couldn’t help it, though.

Instead of joining the others for dinner, Aelin opened up the morning paper and began reading it aloud. Although Vaughan didn’t stir, she liked to think that he was listening and knew he liked to stay informed. Once she’d gotten through the paper, she set it on the nightstand and gave him the news from the house, too.

“Lysandra has been taking care of Aedion, and he seems to be healing quickly,” Aelin began, sitting back in her chair with her feet propped on the side of the mattress. “I think it’s because Lys is giving him extra attention, but she denies that theory.”

Vaughan’s chest slowly rose and fell.

“Speaking of lovers, Gav has been trying to avoid Natalia as much as possible, but she’s been seeking him out, I swear,” Aelin said, and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yesterday, she passed behind him and pinched his ass, and I have never seen Gavriel’s cheeks get so red.”

It was hilarious. Aelin had left Vaughan’s side to go get a glass of water before bed, and she passed by them the second it happened. Despite everything that was going on, Aelin nearly cried she was laughing so hard.

“Tomorrow is Sunday, though, so that’s shit,” Aelin went on, her smile fading. “I’m worried about them, especially since you won’t be there.” She shook her head, looking away from Vaughan to the open window and the sun sinking down beyond the distant hills. “But Ro is adamant that they must make their move, and as much as I hate it, I understand it. The quicker Maeve is defeated, the better.”

Aelin couldn’t bear losing anyone else. Elide’s death had been tragic, and although she kept telling herself that Vaughan would wake up, if this shit with Maeve continued on, they would only lose another one of their family, and that was not okay.

Aelin wished she knew where Maeve was hiding so she could put a bullet into the bitch’s head herself. 

Unfortunately, though, that was impossible, because Rowan kept her completely out of the loop, and every time she tried to talk to him about it, she was only ignored.

She loved her husband, knew he was trying to protect her and their baby, but he was being a complete dick.

With a sigh, she looked back at Vaughan, picked up the book of poetry on his nightstand, and began reading, once more.

~~~~

Lorcan kissed Lucy’s head and laid her in the crib before walking to his adjoining room. He had rocked her to sleep, like Elide used to, and was surprised when she was snoring soundly five minutes later. He gave her one last look over his shoulder before he closed the door behind him.

The second he stepped into his room, he froze.

Natalia sat on the edge of his bed, reading a book.

He lifted a brow. “Get bored of Gavriel and want to fuck me, instead?”

Natalia’s eyes narrowed as she snapped her book shut. “No. You disgust me.”

“Damn, let me down easy, okay,” he muttered, plopping down in a wooden chair. As he untied his shoes, he asked, “What’s going on with you and Gav, anyways?”

She shrugged a shoulder as she said, “He is afraid to be with me, I am too much of a woman for him to handle.”

Lorcan laughed - a true, genuine laugh. “I could see that. You need a strong man, Natalia.”

Natalia hummed her agreement before asking, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Lorcan took a moment to think about his answer. No, he wasn’t, because if he died, he’d be taken away from Lucy, leaving her orphaned. And yet, he was, because if he died, he’d be able to find his wife in the afterlife and kiss her, once again.

At last, he shrugged. “Is anyone ever really ready to walk into battle?”

Natalia’s lips thinned as she nodded. “I suppose that is a valid question.” 

Lorcan nodded, taking a bottle of half-drunk whiskey from the table beside him and popping the top. “What do you think about America?”

Natalia froze, the question catching her off guard. “America?”

“Yeah,” Lorcan said. “I’ve been thinking that after this shit with Maeve is done, we could go there.” 

Natalia hesitated. “To live there?”

Lorcan shrugged, taking a massive chug from the bottle. “Why not?”

“Because your life is here,” Natalia said, quietly. “Because your family is here.”

Lorcan set the glass bottle back on the table, a little too hard. “Elide is my family. Lucy is my family. One of them is dead, the other goes with me wherever I go.”

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Natalia’s eyes softened. “You want to run away.”

He wanted to snap, wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but she wasn’t, and she knew it, as did he. So, he shook his head, slowly, inspecting a loose floorboard a few feet away from his bare toes. “Everywhere I look, I see her. It doesn’t matter where I am, or who I’m with, everywhere I go in this fucking city, I see her.”

Natalia shifted on the edge of the bed before asking, “And that pains you?”

His eyes snapped to hers as his jaw hardened. “What the fuck do you mean? Of course it pains me! I lost my fucking wife, Natalia!”

If Natalia was surprised at his outburst, she didn’t show it. She simply said, “And I lost a friend, and Lucy lost a mother. I know that Elide was the love of your life, Lorcan, which is why it surprises me that you wish to leave this city behind, for it is one of the few things you have left of her.”

A moment of silence passed before Lorcan reached to grab the bottle, once again. As he put the cool glass to his lips, Natalia spat, “That’s right, numb your emotions with alcohol. That’ll help.”

He slowly took the bottle from his lips as he met Natalia’s cold stare. “Fuck you.”

Natalia’s shoulders tensed as she stood up, abruptly, and began to leave the room.

“Fuck,” Lorcan breathed, almost tempted to let her go, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry, okay? I just...I didn’t mean that.”

Natalia froze, but she didn’t turn around. 

“I don’t know how to handle this,” Lorcan said, his voice growing quiet. “Yeah, I drink to numb it all, because the emotions are too much to handle, you know? No, I don’t know how to keep seeing her everywhere I look and realize that she’s not actually here, that she never will be again. And yes, sometimes that makes me want to run away and start over.”

For a moment, no one spoke, no one moved, but then Natalia slowly turned around to look at Lorcan. Her jaw was still rigid, her shoulders stiff, but her eyes were no longer cold. 

In a quiet voice, she said, “Elide would not want you to run, Lorcan. She would want you to be near your family, those you love, those she loved...and she would want you to be happy.”

Lorcan quickly looked away so that she wouldn’t see how his eyes grew misty. 

“It will take time,” Natalia said, turning her back to him, once more. “But, there is no shame in mourning, Lorcan.”

She was nearly out of his room when he called, “Natalia.”

She stopped, looking over her shoulder, waiting.

“You are my family, too,” he said, just in case she wasn’t aware.

She chuckled, but her eyes held a certain fondness as she said, “As you are mine.”

~~~~~

Lysandra kissed a sleeping Aedion on the forehead as she crept out of his bedroom and headed down to the kitchen. She couldn’t sleep, but figured a shot or two of whiskey would have her out in no time.

She was just around the corner when she heard a sudden clatter and froze. It was nearing midnight, and with everything going on, Lysandra’s mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. If it wasn’t for the f-fuck! that followed, Lysandra would have hauled ass the other direction.

She rounded the corner and found Rowan, eyelids drooped and his shirt half unbuttoned, sitting on the floor, his back leaned up against the cabinets with a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

Although he was less than ten feet away, he raised his hand high in the air and waved.

Lysandra just shook her head and crossed her arms. “What the hell are you doing, Ro?”

He blinked, then raised the nearly-empty bottle. “Drinking.”

“I see that,” Lysandra said, with a sigh. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs in bed with your wife?”

Rowan snorted. “Fuck no, she doesn’t want to be around me.”

His words were slurred, his cheeks flushed. Lysandra rubbed her temples as she said, “You’re even stupider when you’re drunk, you know that? All she wants is to be around you.”

“No, she wants to know what’s going on,” Rowan corrected, his long finger pointed in Lysandra’s direction. “She wants to be a part of this fucking war, and that’s not going to happen.” 

“She feels like you’re keeping information-.”

“Obviously I’m keep-keeping information,” he said, blinking before he took another swig from the bottle. “The more information she knows, Lys, the more dangerous it is.”

“Aelin is tough-.”

“She’s carrying my fucking child.” The words came out hurried, quiet, and when Lysandra tried to meet his gaze, he quickly looked away. “Stay out of my marriage, Lys, and I won’t ask you about Ashryver, alright? Just...Just…”

“Just,” Lysandra repeated, voice full of sarcasm and venom, then kicked his boot. “Get up.”

“No,” he said, and downed the rest of the liquid from the bottle. “I’m content where I am.”

“Fuck, you’re pathetic,” Lysandra breathed, and reached down to tug on his arm. “Come on, you idiot, tomorrow is important and you need rest.”

He sighed, loudly and dramatically. “I can’t rest, Lys, I can’t fucking sleep!”

Lysandra froze and dropped his arm as his tone rang through the quiet kitchen. “Fine. Stay here, ignore your wife, be a dick.”

Lysandra went to take a step away, but then Rowan said, quietly, “I’m not a fucking dick, I’m trying to keep you all fucking safe. Pardon me if I need a fucking drink.”

With a defeated sigh, Lysandra slowly turned back around. He was a mess, dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair sticking up wildly, his close wrinkled. “What’s going on, Ro? You’ve been in plenty of shitty situations, and you’ve always kept yourself put together. You’re a fucking mess.”

“We’re all going to die,” he said, tossing his hands into the air. “Elide….now Vaughan is unconscious, and my wife blames herself, and nothing I say fucking helps. My wife, Lys, my pregnant wife came into the house two days ago covered in fucking blood, having just shot a man, because I wasn’t there to protect her. I have tried so damn hard to protect her, and all she does is get pissed at me for it.” 

“Ro-.”

“Remember when we were kids?” Rowan asked, staring up at the ceiling. “When we were just two fucking kids, and the world wasn’t on my shoulders? When the most interesting thing to happen to us was you and me, sneaking around behind Clarisse’s back? Fuck.”

“It was never easy, Ro,” Lysandra whispered. “Our lives have never been easy.” 

“No,” he agreed, “but everyone’s fate didn’t rest in my hands, either.”

Lysandra watched him for a moment. She could see the pain, the hurt, the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was because of that look, that heartbreak, that Lysandra reached out her hands and said, as gently as possible, “Come on, Ro. Let me walk you upstairs.”

For a second, he looked like he would protest, but then he took her hands and allowed her to help him up.

Gods, he was massive. Not only did he tower over her, but as drunk as he was, a lot of his weight fell into Lysandra, who barely stayed on her own two feet. 

But his arms were around her, clearly leaning on her for support. After a few failed attempts, and a few stumbles where Rowan ended up on the ground, they finally found their groove and walked through the silent house. The stairs took the longest to conquer, but once they reached the second floor, his bedroom was only a short distance.

When they got to the door of the master bedroom, Rowan froze.

Lysandra saw the internal war going on within him, as she had a hundred times before. 

“Just go lay with her, Ro,” she whispered. “Let her know that you love her.”

He nodded, nearly ready to fall over again, but then he let go of Lysandra and let himself inside. She was left alone in the hall, hurting for her best friend and for the boy that was now a man, the boy who was tossed into a world that he didn’t choose, a world that was eating him alive, slowly, day by day, hour by hour. 

~~~~~

Maeve sat in the den of her little home on the outskirts of town, a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other. She had discarded her heels, but her stockings and day clothes remained. She longed to be in something more comfortable, but with Cairn there, that would be horribly inappropriate. 

Although late, he had come to give her his daily report, as her second.

“And is there news on Vaughan?” she asked. It had been nearly all she’d thought about in two days, after her men returned saying that the quiet one had been injured. Her man, however, had been shot by Aelin Galathynius - Maeve had been keeping her out of it, because she was pregnant, but maybe she shouldn’t have been. If Rowan’s wife was dangerous, she should be added to the list, too. 

“He still lives, as far as I know,” Cairn replied, sitting in the large armchair across from her, near the blazing fire. 

Maeve hummed, unable to decide if that was a good thing or not. She had always been fond of Vaughan. Gavriel, too. “Very well. And how are things going for tomorrow?”

“Whitethorn wants to meet in a field beyond the city limits,” Cairn said. “As far as I know, we still have more men than they do, but we have to be weary of their gun supply. We’ve been trying to get a hold of new weapons, but in this city, that’s not easy, and having anything shipped in will take too long.”

Maeve sighed, running a hand through her dark, cropped hair. “They stole them from Arobynn, you can’t steal them back?”

“You make it sound like an easy task,” Cairn crooned. 

“If I wanted easy shit done, I would do it myself,” Maeve snapped, bringing the cigarette to her lips. “If they have the guns, we need to have something over them, something in our favor aside from a few extra men.”

She stilled then, the idea popping into her mind with such clarity that she couldn’t help but laugh, softly, forcing Cairn to look at his leader as if she’d gone mad.

“I’ve got it,” she breathed. “Oh, I’ve fucking got it.”

Carin blinked. “Mind sharing or should I take a guess?”

“All in good time, my love,” she said, her grin wide, wicked as she leaned back into her chair and continued to indulge herself. “You and the boys take care of tomorrow, and I will make a plan for what comes after that.”

A cruel, wicked plan for her boys.

After all, it was what they deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[dontgotothenetherworld]

my valentine's anniversary (lydia x reader)

so, @ravenwolfcooper and i decided to work together to write a lil valentine’s day fic for all you lydia lovers

we decided on the basic plot together, and i wrote the first half, and @ravenwolfcooper wrote the second half, so i hope you enjoy what we came up with!

of course, the fic takes place on valentine’s day, but it also happens to be your one year anniversary with lydia. she takes it upon herself to plan the perfect date, but things don’t exactly go according to plan.

2869 words

cw: femreader. anxiety.

you sat silently in lydia’s decade old minivan. she had just recently gotten her licence, and an old car to go with it, and she wanted to drive you to her valentine’s surprise. 

exactly a year ago, you had asked lydia out, and the two of you went on your first date. you planned all that out, so lydia took it upon herself to plan something special for the day.

lydia had started driving just after school let out, and 35 minutes later, she was still driving. there was no evidence of civilization around, spare the odd farm, which you dutifully pointed out every time you passed one, by calling “horse.”

as the song ended, you asked, “lydia, where are we going?”

”i told you, it’s a surprise. we’re almost there, anyway.” although the road was desolate, lydia gripped the wheel firmly and was constantly scanning the road. even just lydia driving you to wherever it is that you were going was meaningful and romantic to you. lydia was incredibly anxious to be at the steering wheel. she didn’t like driving, and was scared of having a passenger in her car, lest anything happen and it be on her conscious.

you went back to silence, simply enjoying lydia’s playlist and the scenery.

a song and a half later, lydia turned off the main road. she rolled up to what appeared to be the entrance to an amusement park. “here we are!” lydia exclaimed, visibly excited.

you slowly got out of the car, taking in the decrepit buildings before you. “lydia, is this place abandoned?” you asked.

”uh only about five years, yeah.” she replied, walking straight through one of the turnstiles guarding the entrance.

”it’s only been abandoned for five years?” you followed her.

”yeah, and all, well most, of the rides are still in operating condition!” she twirled around in the middle of the opening courtyard. 

frankly, this wasn’t the valentine’s day/ anniversary date that you had in mind, but it was very much something lydia would do. you ran to catch up with your girlfriend, and tackled her in a hug, “what ride do you want to go on first?”

she considered her options for a moment, “how about we try the storm chaser?”

”race ya to it!” you began sprinting to where all the storm chaser signs were pointed.

bad idea. because lydia, having been to the park before, of course knew the shortcuts and beat you to the entrance. but being the incredible girlfriend that she is, she waited for you before walking on.

you settled into the middle right seat at the very front of the coaster. ”are you sure this is safe?”

lydia stood at the podium thing that held all the buttons to operate the ride. she hit one of them, and ran to sit next to you before the coaster left. “nope.” she gave you a toothy grin.

your stomach dropped, and the coaster was still making its way up the first hill. You turned to lydia, “so, if we die, will we haunt thi- aaaaahhhh!!!!” note to self, don’t start conversations on roller coasters that plunge down at a 90 degree angle.

lydia raised her hands in the air, laughing through the entire ride. mostly at you. you screamed bloody murder the entire time. you weren’t usually so scared of rollercoasters, but this was a particularly intense one. combined with the fact that you’d never been on it before… and lydia just told you that it wasn’t safe and you could possibly die… yeah you had a reason to be freaked out.

”wasn’t that exciting?” your girlfriend asked. she held your hand as you hopped off the ride.

”that would be an understatement.” you stumbled to find your balance. of course lydia was perfectly fine. you shielded a bit of petty resentment over the simple fact.

”did you have fun, though?” lydia seemed slightly anxious.

you thought for a second, “i think i’ll have to try another ride to know for sure.” you kissed her on the cheek.

”then we’ll have to try the mind warp. It’s even more intense than that one.” lydia began skipping.

”more intense?” you shuddered at the thought.

“don’t worry, i’ll hold your hand and everything will be okay.” lydia snuggled into your arm.

“awww, thanks babe. that’d be so much more reassuring if you hadn’t just told me these rides are unsafe.”

lydia chuckled, “oh i was kidding about that.”

“kidding?” you screamed as you turned to face her.

“yeah, i just wanted you to get a little scared.” she held her pointer finger and thumb about a centimeter apart, to show how much you should’ve been scared.

you held your arms about a foot apart. “more like that much scared.”

lydia ushered you in front of her as you walked up to the next ride. “well on this ride you’ll only be a little scared.”

this one was a two seater. the first hill was twice the height of the storm chaser, and it was essentially just spirals. so many right turns.

you stumbled off the ride, holding your hand to your mouth, “i think i’m gonna be sick.”

lydia, obviously concerned, looked around for the nearest trash can for if you actually threw up.

you pretended to throw up all over her, ending in giggles.

”okay, fair enough.” she laughed along.

the two of you fell into a moment of comfortable silence as you passed by the alley of carnival games. you spotted a huge brown teddy bear that was one of the prizes. it was a little dusty, but it was underneath a roof, so it hadn’t been too terribly exposed to the elements. you pointed it out to lydia.

a light flashed across her eyes, “i know! i’ll win it for you!” she ran to the game. it was one of those ones where you have to toss a ring around the lip of a bottle. you could never figure out how they were rigged, but they definitely were.

you idled behind her. “you can try, but i don’t want to be waiting on you all day.”

with the three rings in hand, lydia laughed, “trust me, it’ll be nowhere near that long.”

you raised your eyebrow. lydia tossed the first ring. it missed. “just warming up.” she said nervously. it was if she wasn’t expecting that, like she was so sure she’d make it on the first try. you didn’t know lydia to be particularly good with her hand-eye coordination, so you weren’t sure why.

lydia tossed the second, it landed straight on. the third ring landed directly beside the second.

”impressive, but tough luck. you need to get all three in order to win.” you had pulled yourself up onto the counter where you sat. 

”yeah, yeah, yeah. i know the rules.” she picked three more rings up. as each consecutive ring landed around a bottle, she winked at you. you watched, slightly impressed, as she readied herself for the third and final toss. it landed.

lydia reached up to steal the stuffed animal from its resting place.

you jumped down from the counter, and lydia hugged you, with the stuffed bear in between the two of you. 

you laughed, “what should i name him?”

lydia considered it, “arson.”

”arson?”

”yeah, it’s a badass name.”

”just that?”

”uh huh, yeah.”

you breathed a sigh of relief, “okay, good. because i thought that you were planning to commit arson, and naming the bear that was like ‘a cute little thing to remember the time we committed arson together!’ and i was definitely not on board with that.”

lydia wheezed, “i mean, if you want to commit arson…”

”no! i do not!” you whacked her with the bear’s arm.

 after a few, more gentle, rides, lydia convinces you to go on the ride that is, in your opinion, is the scariest one in the entire park. it simply goes up, then drops you down. your stomach did flips just thinking about it.

”don’t worry, i’ll be right next to you.” said lydia.

”and arson. don’t forget arson will be next to me too.”

she chuckled. “you see that line?” she pointed to a separation in paint colors what looked like one story up on the tower. you nodded. “it’ll slow down there. we’ll make it down, all safe.

you looked between the seats and the control panel. “are you sure you’ll be able to be next to me?” on all the previous rides, lydia had pressed the start button, then ran to jump in next to you.

”i- you raise a good point. um…” she looked in between the two. “yeah, i don’t think i’ll be able to. but! you really should go on without me. it’s my favorite ride, and it’d be a shame if you never got to go on it.”

you hugged arson close to your chest. “okay. i guess. but you’re getting me my favorite chocolates. the dark ones that aren’t too dark and are in the shape of penguins.”

lydia grinned, “i’d do that for you anyway.” she helped you into the seat, then secured arson next to you.

your girlfriend flipped the switch, and your seat started making its way up. lydia waved at you, beaming. you meekly waved back, trying not to think about how high up you were getting. trying, and failing, to not think about how far away from the ground you were, and how much it would hurt if you fell.

you looked out, at the skyline. you saw a storm approaching. always a good sign.

”hey, y/n, you’re going to drop in 3…” lydia said over the intercom system. “2…”

you squinted your eyes closed, and stiffened your body in anticipation. but lydia didn’t say one.

you began to panic. how long had you been stuck up there? it couldn’t have been more than two minutes, right? it wasn’t that long, surely everything was fine.

you swallowed, and looked down. lydia was nowhere to be seen. but beetlejuice was there.

you heard him breathe into the intercom, “one.”

you were sent flying down. you gripped the seat so hard you might break the plastic. you had your eyes opened, and the ground seemed to be approaching more quickly than it was supposed to. 

but it’d stop soon, it was supposed to stop soon.

the ride screeched to halt a mere inches away from the ground.

your ears stopped ringing. you hadn’t realized it, but you had been screaming the entire way down. 

beetlejuice was doubled over laughing. you finally saw lydia, being held by one of beetlejuice’s clones like a cat from its collar.

”y-you should’ve seen your face!” beetlejuice yelled.

the clone let go of lydia. she ran to you, to help you get out of the death trap. she held your shaking body in her arms.

”i told you not to do this! i told you it wouldn’t end well, and look what you do, you do it anyway! go away, beetlejuice!” she yelled over your shoulder.

”bu-”

”just go.”

lydia helped you stand up. “c’mon, let’s go, y/n. let’s get out of here.” she grabbed your bear, and the two of you began to make your way out of the park. you stayed nestled to her, because in her arms, no one could touch you.

you only let go when lydia had to get in the driver’s side to drive you home. she wiped a tear from your cheek, “it’s gonna be alright, y/n.”

lydia drove you home and was now sprawled over the couch of her own house.

beetlejuice was sulking in the corner knees pulled up against his chest

delia was incredibly confused as to what happened.

“so i’m not sure what happened. you want to talk about it?” she asked, hopeful, since lydia does not always want to talk to her about anything really.

“it’s just that beetlejuice scared the ever living shit out it y/n and now our anniversary and valentine’s day is ruined!” she said sitting up to say this before falling back down dramatically 

“ohhh” delia began not sure on how to help lydia out here. “well what did beetlejuice do this time?”

lydia sighed which formed into a groan. “on one of the attractions he just made it seem she was going to plummet to her death while she was already scared of the thing!” she said. “saying this makes it worse…”

delia looked over at beetlejuice who just slowly floated up to get out of there. “right well that seems like a lot. hm how about you make it up to her by doing something… different?”

“how am I going to make it up though! she thought she was going to die! i can’t fix that!” lydia complained.

“well not with that attitude!" 

lydia and delia turned to the doorway and saw the maitlands standing there.

barbara had a huge grin on her face while she stood legs wide with her hands on her hips.

behind her stood adam who gave a nervous smile, with something in his hands.

"is that? y/n’s favorite food?” lydia asked her eyes slowly widening when she saw that adam was holding a plate with indeed your favorite food.

“you bet it is!” Barbara said happily.

“how did you know i would need it?” lydia asked standing up from the couch and walking over to them. adam gave her the plate, smiling brightly at her.

“mother’s instinct.” barbara said, without missing a beat.

“we eavesdropped” adam said quietly, right after his wife. “we’re sorry”

lydia simply smiled. “no worries.. this is perfect!” she said happily.

adam smiled back. “well, we even made a nice corner in the attic. there’s a tv with some cute disney movies you could watch.” he said.

-“lots of blankets and pillows too!” barbara said throwing her hands in the air, excited.

“how did you do that so fast?” lydia asked, narrowing her eyes at them. 

“don’t worry about that. just call your girlfriend and make it up to her!” barbara said, avoiding the question.

“we’re going to talk about that later” lydia said while doing the little ‘i’ll keep my eyes on you’ hand gesture.

lydia after that rushed to get attic to keep the food there and made sure it would stay warm before calling you up.

“hey y/n? sooo the park was obviously a complete disaster, but i might have a better thing set up!” she said hopeful.

“ehm that’s really sweet lyds. i would love to come over. as long as your friend is not going to crash the party again” you said through the phone, feeling all warm and fuzzy about that Lydia still wanted to make the day great!

“i’ll make sure beetlejuice does nothing! also i’ll pick you up!” lydia said excited beyond anything, so happy you still said yes.

“alright i’ll be waiting. do I have to wear anything fancy or something?” you asked just in case.

“nah you can even come in your pj’s or even your adorable little onesie.” lydia said before hanging up.

she drove to your house to pick you up. she squealed when she saw you.

“i didn’t think you’d actually come in your onesie!” she said to you.

you blushed. “it’s comfy!” you complained, crossing your arms as you sat in the passenger’s seat.

“okay true, it’s just… you’re so cute!” she squealed and got a light smack from you.

she chuckled and started driving home.

when you two arrived she quickly dragged you upstairs and into the attic.

“okay why are we in the attic?” you asked but soon already saw it yourself.

your favorite food, and snacks even, all ready to be eaten together with millions of blankets and pillows to make yourself comfortable with.

“wow..” you said and smiled, childishly running towards the stack of pillows and blankets and throwing yourself on the pile.

“i can get used to this” you murmured as lydia chuckled sitting besides you.

“i thought you’d like it.” lydia said, amused. “so i set this up with some help and we can watch movies.” she said.

you sat up and rolled yourself up in one of the blankets to make a burrito out of yourself. “as long as we don’t watch any horror movies.”

“nope wouldn’t want to do that to you, babe. so I got some disney movies we can watch” lydia said with a grin.

you gasped. “we better watch the princess and the frog. maybe also lion king!” you said, smile from ear to ear.

“sure. we’ve got all the time in the world now.” lydia said, smiling.

you opened up your burrito and lydia crawled into it with you. she cuddled up to you as she put on the movie.

you two were eating the food and snacks and watching all the disney movies almost all night and into the morning.

by the time you two had gotten to the movie mulan, you started to fall asleep.

lydia noticed and held you close to her, kissing your forehead.

“i love you lyds”

“love you too y/n”

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book–butterfly

[vampirrediaries]

Enemies Of The State : Dark!Klaroline {11}

summary:

This fiction follows the events of just how Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes lost everything that tied them to their humanity, leading them into something neither of them can come back from.

——————

{10 years ago}

It was just as she said it would be.

‘The both of you are going to start something that you can never come back from’

Sophie Deveraux’s voice came in like a phantom, the memory eerily echoing in his mind of when he swiftly took her heart. She’d warned him of something exactly like this, and now it was proven. You can’t stop what’s coming.

Klaus would give almost anything to see what exactly was coming for him.

Caroline.

She was the other person, he quickly realised. His Caroline, who hadn’t a horrid bone in her body, who wouldn’t trade her humanity for all the pleasures in the world. The words seemed foreign, as if it were a cruel joke.

It just wasn’t possible. These incessant people must be lying, seeing as they never cared for her in the first place. Not like he did. Or maybe he didn’t want to believe Sophie Deveraux’s grim prediction of the future. Klaus may be ruthless, but he didn’t want hell unleashed on earth.

He only wanted to find Caroline.

“Tell me where she is.”

“Don’t you get it?” Elena stepped in front, visibly exhausted. “Caroline is gone. She left the minute after she had that outburst-”

Elena froze, knowing she had said too much of that matter as the rest of the group stared daggers into her.

It was quite stupid to disclose that to a ruthless Hybrid killer who would kill anyone who hurt his love. Like expected, Klaus immediately stood alert at the ‘outburst’.

“What outburst?” He demanded, approaching the doppelgänger in long strides. “Answer me!”

“Nothing happened that wasn’t justified” Bonnie cut in, clearly scared for Elena’s safety. “She was acting like a different person ever since you left, and that night was the tipping point.”

Damon gave the witch a look as if to say, do you want us to die?. He found it absurd as to how nobody was taking caution on what to say, and judging by Klaus’ expression, he was not wrong.

“If any of you,” He responded venomously. “had anything to do with this, i will assure you meet an end so cruel, the devil will weep.”

“We didn’t do anything!” Elena protested, slowly backing away from the seething hybrid. “We only confronted her about betraying us by being involved with you, and then she had an outburst and ran away.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Klaus spat out venomously. “Seeing as though a vampire only flips the switch when all becomes simply unbearable.”

“But it’s true,” Bonnie intervened “She was changing in a way that i’ve never seen, as if something was almost...corrupting her from the inside.”

“Oh, please” Damon rolled his eyes at Bonnie. “Caroline was only upset she got caught in her little secret. I’m surprised she lasted this long, being the neurotic little vampire she is.”

Rebekah repressed a smile, knowing all too well what was going to happen now. She didn’t care for Caroline much, but how her so-called friends treated her, made her happy with them being in the unforgiving wrath of her brother. They’d deserved this.

Klaus felt himself go completely and utterly full with hot rage.

It was because of them. Caroline’s little group of friends, whom she would die for, that she’d turned her humanity off. That she went through the pain of him leaving her, only to be bombarded with accusations of fake-loyalty and betrayal. Only because she had feelings for him.

Klaus was angry at himself as well, knowing that things would be different had he kept his vow to her. I intend to be your last.

The least he could do now, is get rid of the toxicity from her life.

It happened in a way that they didn’t see coming, in pure Klaus fashion.

He immediately went towards Elena Gilbert, the girl whom everyone loved so dearly, and grabbed ahold of her neck in a deathly grip in a flash. Pulling her hair aside with one fist, he plunged deathly daggers into her carotid artery. The sounds of pure agony and anguish made it all the more worthwhile, making the group go into hysterics as well.

Damon flashed towards them in efforts to save her life, but Klaus merely pushed him away with a free hand. Nobody else dared to go against him, not even Stefan.

Elena helplessly thrashed against the Hybrid, screaming, but he didn’t feel pity. Klaus wanted them to hurt like Caroline hurted. Killing sweet little Elena Gilbert in the most brutal way possible, ensured him of that satisfaction.

He ravenously fed on the doppelgänger until the sweet melody of her heart slowing down filled his ears. It wasn’t long now, till she would be dead. Klaus continued until her heart was merely pumping the very small quantities of blood left in her system, when he was pushed aside by a force much stronger than an oridinary vampire.

“All right, Nik” Kol Mikaelson stood next to the almost-corpse of Elena. “You’ve had your fun.”

“Will you ever mind your bloody business, Kol?” He growled, wiping the blood with the sleeve of his jacket. She lay unconscious on the grass, neck bloody. Damon immediately flashed towards her, a wrist extended. The rest quickly followed suit.

“Not in this situation, brother. Let’s focus on what we came here to do.”

Rebekah wasn’t surprised at all, eyeing her younger brother with a pointed glare. Her relationship with Kol wasn’t as hell bent, almost feeling happy to see him well.

“I’m sure you heard Elijah has already made his way to Mystic Falls,” Klaus spoke lowly. “He disappeared before we arrived.”

“I heard everything from the car,” Kol responded dryly. “We need to find Caroline before he kills her. I wish she hadn’t run off.”

“Why on earth does Elijah want to kill Caroline?” Rebekah intervened impatiently. “The amount of times i’ve bloody asked-”

“Katherine Pierce has died after Nik managed to not follow through on a demand to save her life, and now our brother wants revenge,” Kol hurriedly tried to explain.

“I followed through on that,” Klaus countered angrily. “That witch didn’t-”

Rebekah groaned, cutting him off. “Even in death, that wench manages to make our lives a living hell.”

“Let’s get back on track,” Kol makes his way towards Caroline’s door. “We need something important to her in order to do a tracking spell. Threaten the witch if you have to.”

“I have something of Caroline’s”

Stefan approached the trio in short steps, speaking lowly. He was visibly distressed. “Bonnie is willing to do a spell.”

“You might be of use to me after all, Stefan” Klaus analysed. “It’s a shame your friends aren’t as cooperative.”

“I want to find Caroline just as much as you do,” He replied dryly. “Especially since your brother has a murder plot against her.”

Klaus eyed the group behind Stefan in disgust. They surrounded Elena in worry, who was now fully healed due to Damon’s blood. This didn’t prevent her, however, giving him a terrified expression. Good. Let that memory stay in her mind.

“Right,” Rebekah made her way to Caroline’s door, breaking the lock in an effortless push. “Let’s bloody find Caroline Forbes.”

—————

“You were the last person who i thought i’d see ripping into an innocent bystander.”

Caroline chuckled humourlessly, feeding on a blood bag Katherine had so thoughtfully provided. “I might as well make the most of what no-humanity has to offer. Besides, animal blood is disgusting.”

“Like a true vampire gone rouge,” Katherine murmered from the driver’s seat. “Tell me, cupcake, what brought this on? I’d love to hear that story.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole switch thing. What could’ve possibly happened that even you couldn’t handle?”

Caroline inwardly groaned, knowing that she had to talk about the worst thing she’d ever experienced. Not that she felt anything, but it was...uncomfortable.

She guessed that there were some things that even the switch can’t fully shut off.

“I did something,” Caroline huffed as she tried putting on a cool exterior. “but after they found out about this little thing, they accused me of being un-loyal and betraying them. I lashed out and flashed away.”

“What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter, but what does matter is that I’m here. Emotionless and free to do whatever i want.”

Katherine knew perfectly well what Caroline’s little indiscretion was. She also knew that the vampire was changing, becoming darker and hostile quite like she’d told Klaus in New Orleans. She just wanted to hear the other side of the story.

“Sounds like something Elena would do,” The Petrova huffed. “Tell me, how is my beloved little doppelgänger doing? Is she still as whiny as i remember?”

“Horribly infuriating now that i think about it,” Caroline retorted. “Still playing damsel in distress as always.”

Katherine murmured an insult under her breath. She grinned. Her and Elena’s relationship was always amusing.

“How on earth did you get that freedom anyways?” Caroline questioned curiously. “After 500 years of running, and he gave it to you?”

“Hmm,” Katherine smiled wickedly. “Let’s just say i manipulated a certain Original, and made sure i was fully free from that damn family once and for all.”

“Manipulated?”

The doppelgänger gave her a mischievous side-eyed look. She decided it was best that she didn’t know what exactly Kat had done to earn her freedom. Klaus wasn’t exactly forgiving.

“So,” Caroline tried changing the subject altogether. “Mind telling me where we’re going? Or is that a secret too.”

“We’re going somewhere to unleash our rage and terror. I think we both have way too much of that in ourselves, don’t you?”

She smirked, absolutely loving that idea. “You aren’t telling me the place, are you?”

Katherine only sucked on a blood bag with a free hand, while the other was occupied at the wheel. She said nothing, but had that glint in her eye which told Caroline that wherever they were headed to, would definitely be worth their while.

——————

masterlist

[zxanthe]

soma ghost/living person au (maybe without the angst???)

beep boop another late prompt! so i tried for No Angst, and i think i did pretty ok on there being no angst related to being a ghost on maka’s part, but i couldn’t resist some angst seasoning wrt plot. nothing too heartwrenching, i hope. enjoy :)

also available on ao3

On the hottest day of August, two weeks before school is due to start, the family Evans moves into the old manse at the end of the aptly-named Gallows Lane. The car shuts off and the silence hangs there as the three of them peer up at the ruinous mountain of peeling paint and chipped siding that is their new home. Once upon a time it must have been very grand indeed, and some of that still lurks in the wide porch and delicate curlicues of the facade, but there is a vacantness to the windows that sends a faint tingle of foreboding down Soul’s spine.

“Holy shit,” says Wes finally, “no wonder this thing sold for so cheap. Bet the old owners couldn’t wait to get rid of it.”

“Language, kid,” says Dad. “Put that eyebrow down, it’s been completely redone on the inside. It’s our job to fix up the rest.”

“Ugh, there goes the rest of the summer,” Soul grumbles.

“C’mon, none of that. We’ve got a lot of work yet to do.”

The house, Soul comes to think, is watching him. There’s something strangely alive about the languorous quiet hanging like thick curtains in each room that the voices of his brother and father can’t entirely drive away. The back of his neck won’t stop prickling, and several times he whips around, convinced that someone – or something – will be there, watching him. But the only thing that greets him is the bright summer sunlight, streaming sleepily, emptily, through the dusty windows.

The day is murderously hot, and in the first five minutes Wes’s shirt comes off. Dad follows suit not long after. Soul only relents when his own shirt is drenched and he can’t take it anymore. It isn’t that he’s ashamed, exactly, of the long, puckered scar stretching from his left shoulder to his right hip. But it’s still pink, and it still pains him, and he still can’t quite lift his left arm as high as he should, and more than anything it’s a reminder, of things better left back home, in the town where they were born.

(The corners of Dad’s eyes still tighten when he looks at his son’s torso)

He doesn’t meet the house’s fourth resident until a week after they’ve moved in. The three of them had been working on the roof all day, refitting shingles under the baleful gaze of the sun, and at first he thinks the heat must’ve cooked his brain after all because there is a woman sitting on the window seat by the stairs on the second floor. Her hair is very long, and light-colored, and his heart catches in his throat and the single word blooms in his mind, its overpowering connotations clogging his windpipe so that he can only look at her as she continues humming in light, off-key tones. Then she turns around, and he sees that this woman is in fact a girl around his own age, with big green eyes and an upturned nose, and the light from the setting sun ignites the little frizzy filaments of hair that refuse to conform to the rest, so that it looks like her head is haloed in light, that she is light, because it is streaming right through her. He can see the windowsill through her dress.

She does not appear alarmed. Instead her eyes meet his, and then wander leisurely down the rest of his body without a shred of self-consciousness or shame. He can feel a blush igniting in his cheeks at the frankness of her gaze. He’s just gotten out of the shower. He’s wearing nothing but a towel slung around his hips.

“You seem nicer than the previous tenants,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “You’re certainly a lot nicer to look at.”

“Holy shit,” he blurts.

The girl’s eyes flick to his again and then go as wide as dinner plates when he doesn’t look away. She claps her hands over her mouth. “C-can you see me?” she squeaks breathlessly.

He can only nod.

“Oh. Oh my gracious. I’m. Oh goodness. It has been a very long time.” Her entire face is flaming brighter than the setting sun behind her. “If you’ll excuse me,” she murmurs, not meeting his gaze or allowing any time for a response before she leaps off the window seat and executes a perfect swan dive into the floor, vanishing with nary a ripple.

“Are you okay, Soul?” Wes asks, when he’s gotten dressed and made it down to dinner. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He doesn’t see her for a long time after that. He convinces himself that the whole surreal encounter was just a hallucination brought on by the heat, and then school starts and in the accompanying whirlwind that is figuring out the pecking order among a set of completely new peers as well as how the whole high school thing works in general, manages to forget all about her. He does an excellent job of it until her face melts through the surface of his battered English textbook late one evening.

“Gaah!” He shoves violently away from his desk. His chair skids a little and then gives up, opting to topple backwards instead and dump him unceremoniously on the floor.

She rises up through the book until she’s hovering a little above the desk “Oh! Oh no, are you alright? Oh, how silly of me, I’m so used to going through things, it’s so easy to forget – I should have walked in through the door like a reasonable human being!” She squeezes her eyes shut, and then, as if pulled by a magnet, rockets forward so that her feet are planted on the floor. “Takes a little, ah, concentration to orient myself, as you can see.”

“Yeah,” he manages. Her hair isn’t down this time, instead secured in an elaborate arrangement. A long, ashy-blonde braid trails from the back of it, past her waist. She wears a long, flowing skirt with a large buckle, a high-necked, ruffled blouse, and a sensible, if rather scuffed, pair of boots. In short, she’s dressed like his great-grandmother.

“Anyway, um.” A blush has appeared in her cheeks. Her hands are all knotted up in the front of her skirt. “I just wanted to, um, apologize, for my conduct, when we initially met. It was very rude, and absolutely inexcusable, and I’m sorry.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s just been such a long time since I’ve talked to anyone, and such periods of isolation inevitably turn one a little bit funny, I think. I sincerely hope that you can forgive me.”

He blinks after this whole speech. “Uh, yeah, sure. It’s whatever. Just, uh. Surprised me, that’s all.” He swallows and cautiously sits up. “Never met a ghost before.”

She visibly sags with relief, sinking a couple of inches into the floor. “Oh, thank you, thank you!”

“So, uh,” he says awkwardly, getting to his feet. “How long’ve you been. You know.”

“Dead, you mean? It’s quite alright, a perfectly natural thing to wonder.” Her brow furrows in thought. “What year is it?”

He tells her.

“My,” she says, frowning. She mouths some numbers soundlessly, holding up fingers. “A good century at this point.”

Soul whistles lowly. “Wow.”

She sighs. “I must say, I’m also rather impressed. I didn’t think the house would manage to last this long.”

“Huh?”

“My mother was a witch, you see,” she says, and drifts to settle on his bed. “She tried to bring me back, but…” She gestures to herself, helplessly. “It didn’t quite work out the way she planned.”

Her green eyes get a faraway look. Soul bends and picks up the chair. The noise startles her; she gives a little twitch and then blushes. “Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners; here I am, mercilessly expositing to you my life story. To answer your question and make a very long and sad tale short I eventually figured out that my mother bound my soul to the house rather than the talisman she originally intended to, and as such, here I am, invisible to everyone except you, Soul Evans.”

“How do you – shit, you can go through walls and stuff. Right.” He sits down and eyes her. “So if the house goes and gets destroyed or whatever, you go too, is that it.”

“Theoretically, yes.” She sighs. “You know, I almost thought that I was at last going to leave this place, before the previous owner bought it and fixed it up and started renting it out. And now you and your family are living here and fixing up the outside too…why, I almost feel a real girl again!” She laughs, and then looks at him with soft green eyes. “And the best present of all,” she says quietly, “is someone to talk to, after all these long years. It gets,” and she takes a deep breath, “terribly lonely, when there are people all around you but they can’t hear a word you say.”

Soul can feel his cheeks heating up at her earnestness. “No problem,” he mumbles gruffly. “You’re the first ghost I’ve ever met. You seem pretty cool.”

She laughs again. “And you’re pretty groovy too, if I may say.”

“Oh my God, you sound like a middle-aged soccer mom.”

“Soccer mom…what’s that?”

“C’mon, you’ve been around like a hundred years, you should know this stuff better than me.”

“I can’t leave the house,” she says matter-of-factly. “Or, well, I can’t go very far outside it. I can take a turn about the garden, if it strikes my fancy, but…” She sighs. “So all I know of the world is what people have brought in here.”

“Oof,” says Soul.

“Mm. It certainly feels injurious. If I had been bound to the talisman I could go wherever it went, as it was meant to be worn around the neck, and one can’t exactly do that with a house.”

“How long’s it been since someone last lived here?”

“Mm. A good year I should say, although I can’t know for sure.” She peers around him then, and he turns and follows her gaze and winces when it lands on his geometry book.

“What was that you were working on before I so rudely interrupted you?”

“English,” he says with a sigh. “American public school fuckin’ sucks.”

“Ooh, public school. You know, I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Trust me,” says Soul, “you don’t.”

“Boo, you’re no fun.” She sits up and squeezes her eyes shut. Her feet land squarely on the floor. She stands and makes her way towards him.

“You don’t have to do that, y’know, if it’s hard.”

“I know, but it makes me feel more…human, I guess.”

“Aren’t you technically still?”

“Not physically,” she sighs, and then peers at his homework. “Oh! Is this Romeo and Juliet?”

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “I can’t understand half of what they’re saying in this stupid play.”

“Stupid?” She holds a hand to her chest. “Shakespeare was one of my favorites!” She looks over his worksheet of accompanying questions. “Oh, these are simple! Come, Soul, surely you’re not struggling?”

He grits his teeth. “Not all of us are colossal dweebs, woman.”

“Hmph! I was thinking about helping you but now I think not.”

He sighs. “Geez, okay, sorry, sorry. You’re not a dweeb, happy?”

“No,” she says primly.

“Okay, well, if you’re gonna be like that then just fuck off and let me get this done, yeah? It’s due tomorrow and English is my first period.”

“Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow,” she quips, and vanishes through the ceiling.

He struggles for another half-hour before the girl takes pity on him and emerges from the wall again. “I won’t give you the answers,” she tells him in response to his hopeful look, “but I will help you translate.”

He sighs gustily. “Okay, fine.”

“Elsewise how will you learn? Education is important, Mr. Evans.”

He rolls his eyes.

***

He comes to learn that the girl’s name is Maka Albarn, and that she was born in what is now his father’s bedroom one sunny May afternoon in 1898. She lived her whole life in this town until the influenza carried her off just a few months shy of her 16th birthday. She likes books and baking and televised wrestling beatdowns.

“Oh my God, how can you watch this stuff, it’s so obviously fake,” he tells her one Saturday afternoon, not looking up from his Nintendo DS.

She doesn’t seem to hear him, so engrossed is she in the action on screen. “YES!” she shouts, leaping to her feet in a swirl of skirts.

“Didn’t know you liked wrestling, kid,” says a voice, and Soul looks up to see his brother leaning with his arms on the back of the couch.

Soul shrugs. “I don’t. S’good background noise, is all.”

“Mm. Is that John Cena?”

“Yes,” replies Maka, turning around to look at him. “Tell your brother that Mr. Cena is an exemplary example of what a wrestler should be.”

“I think so,” says Soul.

“Boo,” says Maka, sitting down.

“Fascinating though wrestling and Pokemon undoubtedly are,” says Wes, peering at Soul’s game, “I’m gonna have to ask you to put it down. I’ve picked out a piece for competition this year. Now that we’re both in high school I think it’d be badass to compete together.” He grins. “You and me, we’ll make state for sure.”

Soul leans back to look up at his brother. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. The first movement of Debussy’s violin sonata. What do you think?”

Soul yawns. “Yeah, Debussy’s alright. Let’s see it.”

Maka doesn’t look away from the TV as he ambles towards what used to be the sitting room with Wes. They’d moved the piano in just the other day. It sits placidly by the fireplace, its lacquered surface gleaming. Soul sits down on the worn bench and stares at his solitary reflection in it for a few moments. He remembers learning to play on this piano as a child. He remembers his mother’s patient hands guiding his small fingers to the right keys, the murmur of her voice, her silhouette reflected in the wood beside his when they’d play duets.

He sighs and lifts the cover.

The Debussy piece isn’t bad. It’s definitely a challenge, Soul reflects, but nothing he hasn’t seen before. They’re able to get the first two lines into something resembling coherence before Wes calls it a day and they devolve into old, familiar favorites instead, Mozart and Vivaldi and, perhaps most notably, the third movement of Beethoven’s Kreutzer Sonata.

“Haven’t heard that one in a while,” says Dad from the doorway when they finish. He’s smiling, equal parts fondness and sadness lingering in the curve of his lips, the way his eyes crinkle.

Soul shrugs, not looking up from the keys. “We were out of practice,” he says gruffly.

“Yeah,” says Wes. His eyes are a little too bright. He wipes at them with the back of one arm. “Don’t wanna forget, you know, plus the piano finally arrived, and with the new house and all…” He trails off and waves his hand. “I think she’d like it here.”

Dad smiles fondly. “She would. It’s partially why I bought this place, actually. Your mother always wanted a big, old house.”

Soul looks around. It’s easy to imagine his mother in a place like this, sitting in the chair by the window playing her cello or rattling around in the kitchen singing some aria or outside in the garden with her big raggedy straw hat and dirt under her fingernails. He bites his lip. His scar aches.

Much later, when the sun has long since set and the house has gone still and quiet, Maka finds him lying in bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, the window open and the ceiling fan stirring the heavy summer air with slow, languid strokes. He’s watching the fireflies blinking lazily in the garden below when she phases through the doorway.

“You and your brother play beautifully,” she tells him, her voice hushed.

Soul shrugs. “Lots of practice.”

“I never had much of a head for music. My mother got me lessons when I was young, but they just never took.”

“Mm.”

“That last song was especially lovely. The Beethoven. Did your mother like that song?”

“Yeah.” Soul doesn’t look at her. “It was her favorite.”

“What was she like?”

Soul exhales. “She was. Nice. Great musician. She used to play in the New York Philharmonic. Taught me and Wes piano, when we were kids, but she was a cellist usually.” He bites his lip. “She was always happy. Friendly to everyone. She liked people.”

Maka smiles. “She sounds like a wonderful person. I would have liked to meet her.”

She drifts to the windowsill, settling on the edge. Her transparent body catches the moonlight, makes her seem almost luminous in the darkness. She looks at him. There’s something soft and sad in her eyes. They drop to his scar, and she leans forward, a hand extended. Soul doesn’t move. Her eyes flick back to his, questioning. He shrugs.

He doesn’t feel anything when she touches him. Her gossamer hand dips into his naked chest, into the twisted flesh of the scar there. Wordlessly, she traces it, a crease forming between her brows. Her touch, though insubstantial, is slow, careful. Soul can feel his face heating up and hopes that ghosts can’t see in the dark.

“Where did this come from,” she murmurs.

“Car accident,” he says. His voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Like a year ago, now. Drunk driver. My, uh. My mom didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sighs. “S’why we moved, you know. We were tired of seeing ghosts.” He glances at her. “Not…not literally. Sorry.”

She smiles. “It’s okay, I understand what you mean. My mother died not long after I did. She took my death rather hard, I think; I was her only family. It was…difficult, listening to her keening and unable to communicate my presence and thus ease her pain.” She withdraws her hand. They both watch the fireflies for a while.

“I don’t even remember it,” Soul croaks suddenly into the quiet. “Her death, I mean. Just headlights, and then this loud crunch, and then waking up in some hospital room feeling like complete shit.” He takes a deep breath. “They said I was dead for two minutes.”

She frowns at him thoughtfully. “Dead?”

“Yeah. Heart stopped, not breathing, the works. Had a hard time with the defibrillator ‘cause of…” He gestures to his chest.

“Do you remember what it felt like?”

He thinks for a few moments. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah. That’s how I felt too, before Mama called me back.” She bites her lip and takes a deep breath. “For what it’s worth,” she says lowly, “I’m glad you died, because if you hadn’t then we never would have met.”

He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. “Woah there, fuck you too.”

“Oh – oh no! I didn’t mean – oh no, I’m so sorry – “

“Nah, nah, it’s cool. Chillax, Albarn, I’m not actually mad.”

She peers at him from between her fingers and then laughs weakly. “My mouth always runs away from me. My mama kept telling me to think before I speak. You’d think after a hundred years I’d have learned to.”

He smirks. “Yeah, well, for someone who’s so smart you sure are pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Rude! It’s entirely due to me that you’re passing English.”

He laughs. Quiet falls between them. Maka looks at him. There’s something strange, almost pained, in her eyes. “You know,” she says, and it’s hard to tell between the darkness and the transparent nature of her form, but he thinks she might be blushing, “I really wish that I could hold your hand right now.”

Soul’s heart skips a beat. He swallows. “Well, uh.” He extends his arm and places his hand palm-up on the windowsill. “Go. Go ahead.”

“I mean really hold it,” she mumbles, but she reaches for him just the same. Her translucent fingers pass through his and he can’t feel anything, but when he curls them around the empty air she smiles almost shyly. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

“Yeah.”

Outside, the crickets are chirping. A warm breeze wafts through the window, making the curtains stir. The moment stretches, deepens. Soul squeezes Maka’s hand.

She squeezes back.

[ciathyzareposts]

Mystery Mansion: Capitulation.

Alas, I am giving up on Mystery Mansion. I’m sure I could persevere with it, and eventually get a 999 point game, but to be honest I just want to move on. It stings a little, especially coming off of MUD1 which I also gave up on, but I need to keep moving. Persisting with games I’m not enjoying will be a sure-fire way to kill the blog dead.

When I left off last time, I had accomplished most of what I was capable of in the game.  Now my goal was to put it all together into a single run. Doing that took some planning, as there are certain tasks that need to be done before others. Below I’ve outlined the order that I tackled things.

Gathering Items: The first essential item is the lantern, which hangs from the mansion’s front gate where the game begins. Second is the compass; dealing with relative directions is a real pain so I like to get this early. The third item I go for is the gauntlet to increase my carrying capacity, and then the door keys.

Killing the Vampire: Before going to release the Vampire, it’s important to grab the cross from the chapel for protection. After opening the Vampire’s coffin, it’s a simple matter to lure him upstairs and open a curtain to let in the sunlight. I also tried killing him with a wooden wedge, but the game told me “you have not figured out how to do that yet”.

Solving the Murder: To do this, you need to find and carry the murder weapon, then lure the murderer to the location of the dead body. I like to do this fairly early, because once the sun has set you can’t access the garden, and if anything you need is in there you’ll never solve the murder. The first thing I do here is listen to the radio in the Game Room; a news bulletin plays that tells you that the police are looking for the murderer, which reveals the murderer’s identity. If I know where the corpse is, the next thing I do is examine it, which can give clues to the murder weapon. In my last game, the body was doubled over as though clutching its stomach, which indicates that the poison was the murder weapon. If I don’t know the corpse’s location, I’ll just question people until they tell me. It doesn’t usually take too long to get all three requirements in the same location, unless one of them happens to be in the garden (which I only go into as a last resort).

Once the murder has been solved, you just have to call the police using the phone in the Entrance Hall. They show up immediately and arrest the murderer.

The Mole Maze: Before you can hit up the Treasure Trek maze, you need the amulet from the Mole Maze. As mentioned in a previous post the mole changes the maze occasionally, but ever since I switched to Bob Sorem’s port I’ve had no trouble navigating it using the map found here. Perhaps the changes aren’t implemented properly in Sorem’s port, or perhaps I’ve just been able to get through before the mole starts digging new tunnels.

Getting the Transmitter: If you enter the Bathroom and drop everything – including your clothes – you can go up into a secret lab where you’ll find a matter transmitter and receiver. These are very handy for navigating the mansion, and as far as I can tell essential to escaping the Treasure Trek maze. While leaving the lab through the Large Bedroom, you can fix a crooked mirror, where some jewelry is hidden.

The Treasure Trek Maze: To get through this maze you need the compass, gauntlet, keys, and transmitter. First you have to unlock the door and get through before being crushed by a moving wall. After heading down to the Treasure Room, you need to quickly move through the maze to the two Troll Traps and the Den of Death. Doing this run nets you some pearls, an emerald, some pirate treasure, a ruby necklace, some diamonds and a silver goblet. With that done, it’s a simple task to BEAM UP to the lab, then BEAM DOWN to wherever you stashed the matter receiver.

Finishing Up: With those tasks done, I collected the Vampire’s Ring then went to the Front Entrance to phone for a taxi. As far as I can tell you can’t do this until after 10pm. The mansion explodes at midnight, so I waited out front with my treasures. While I was waiting I killed the Warrior, because he’s an irritating NPC who will attack you on a whim. After the mansion blew up, I simply headed south and got the following “victory” screen:

All through this you need to monitor your lantern power, and head to the twisty maze to get some batteries when it starts to wear off. I spent a good portion of the game with my lantern turned off, and it was still running out of power near the end.

There are also the various noises that happen once every hour, for which you need to type SCORE POINTS in order to get the full 999. I tried to remember them when they came up, but I’m sure I missed a good number.

In the end, I got 781, which I’m going to have to consider good enough. I scored 90 points for the items I was carrying, most of which were treasures. My inventory was full, so I don’t think I could have earned much more here. Perhaps killing the werewolf would have done it; I can see in some walkthroughs that there is one, but I never did find it aside from getting killed in the dark by it one time. You can also kill the wolf in the garden, which I just figured out, by distracting it with food and shooting it. If those two don’t account for the 200+ points I missed, I’m stumped. Perhaps there’s something to do in the attic, which I accessed by standing on a chair in the closet and climbing through a door in the ceiling. I got up there and got down via the fire escape (which has to be oiled to use safely) but there didn’t seem to be any point to doing so.

I also confirmed that you can sleep with the male characters, which gives you the same message as the female ones (so the game isn’t assuming your gender or sexuality). You can’t do it with the Vampire though, because you have to drop everything, and without the cross he drains your blood real quick. The Elf can’t be lured inside, so he’s not an option either.

And so, on 781 points, I bid farewell to Mystery Mansion. I could keep trying, but with such an obtuse game as this one I might end up banging my head against it for months with no progress to show for it. It’s even worse with games of this vintage, because walkthroughs can be harder to come by. I found some, but none of them gave away everything.

Mostly though, my capitulation is the result of the fact that I just wasn’t enjoying the game very much. I was intrigued by it at first, but after solving the mystery portion of it I just couldn’t make any more progress. As I’ve said before, I just think the game is too obtuse for its own good. It’s also very disjointed, with a mystery plot grafted onto a treasure hunt. Not that you’d know it, because Mystery Mansion does very little to let you know that the game even has treasures to collect. With just a little more guidance it could have been enjoyable.

Before I do a Final Rating, I present to you the Wall of Shame. These are all of the puzzles for which I sought outside help:

THE WALL OF SHAME

Navigating the Mole Maze

Finding the gauntlet

Opening the Treasure Trek Maze with the amulet

Finding the pearls

Getting into the Laboratory

Calling the taxi on the phone

FINAL RATING:  Story & Setting: The setting of a mysterious old mansion is a classic one, but this game doesn’t do anything new with it, and doesn’t do anything to tie any of its disparate tropes together. Why is there a matter transporter upstairs? Why is Dracula in the basement? I don’t know, and Mystery Mansion isn’t about to tell me. As for the story it’s one part murder mystery and one part Adventure-style treasure hunt. The mystery part, at least, is novel, so I’ll mark it up slightly for that. Rating: 2 out of 7. Characters: There are a lot of characters roaming around in this game, all of whom can be interacted with. You can question them, you can shoot them dead, and you can even have sex with some of them. Unfortunately, most of these characters are interchangeable, and their main purpose is mostly to act as murder suspects. It’s a step up from most of the adventure games of the era, though, where most of the characters are simply obstacles. Rating: 2 out of 7. Aesthetics: It’s a text adventure with pretty simple writing. The Bob Sorem port has some sound effects that play through the PC speaker occasionally, but those are more startling than pleasant. Rating: 1 out of 7. Mechanics: For all the frustrations I had with this game, it does things reasonably well. The parser is simple, but I didn’t find myself searching for the right verb too often. The relative directions when inside are annoying, but I was impressed that the room descriptions change depending on which way you’re facing. Rating: 4 out of 7. Challenge: For the mystery portion of the game, I think the difficulty was pitched pretty well. It took me a little while to figure out, but with various hints and clues I was able to solve it within a reasonable time. The treasure hunt is absurdly hard though. There are so many actions that could only be figured out through trial and error, or very lucky guesses, and the game gives you no help. And then there’s the changing mole maze, which is just cruel. Rating: 2 out of 7. Innovation and Influence: I don’t believe that this game was particularly influential; I’ve never heard of it, or seen it brought up by early game developers. But as possibly the first ever murder mystery adventure game I have to give it some props. Rating: 5 out of 7. Fun: I briefly enjoyed this game during the mystery portion, and the mapping phase, but after that it very quickly lost its shine. I think the Mole Maze drained my enthusiasm, and it never came back. Rating: 2 out of 7. Obviously, no bonus point for this game because I really don’t want to play it again. The above scores total 18, which doubles for a Final Rating of 36. That places it 13th out of 27 games overall, and 8th out of 17 adventure games. That seems a little high, but it does earn some extra points for doing some things that I’ve yet to see before during the course of this blog. It has more ambition than most of the games below it, which has to count for something.

NEXT: My next game is Devil’s Dungeon, a text-based Apple II RPG that promises an infinitely deep dungeon. Whoopee, just what I was asking for!

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/mystery-mansion-capitulation/

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Review] HAPPY DEATH DAY Brings the SCREAM Back to Teen Horror

New Post has been published on https://nofspodcast.com/review-happy-death-day-brings-scream-back-teen-horror/

[Review] HAPPY DEATH DAY Brings the SCREAM Back to Teen Horror

Horror loves a whodunnit. And, teen solo slasher Happy Death Day prepares do deliver a slice. Yes, we’re only one sentence in and I’ve already served up a cake pun. Two puns. I’ll stop.

Happy Death Day dares to follow in the mammoth footsteps of both the wildly and not-so successful ventures of teen-targeted terror.  We’re not going to try to differentiate between the great and not-so, because one could argue I Know What You Did Last Summer is so bad it’s good (me. I will). But, we can talk Scream.

It’s no argument that Wes Craven’s case of the Ghost Face reigns supreme above a mountain of modest attempts. Scream succeeded where others did not. Daring to be fresh, new, and self-aware. This was in a genre that was at the time only delivered carbon copy flicks to an age group having just discovered the joys of a disposable income. There is a lesson to be taken from Scream. Teen horror is a dime a dozen; to rise above the box office and now, the all-mighty the tomato — you’re going to have to wow the kiddies.

Will Happy Death Day fly with the tindering, streaming, memeing under-25 bunch? We’ll have to wait and see.

Tree Gelbam (Jessica Rothe) is a care-free sorority girl who wakes up on the wrong end of a hangover. She slinks from the bed of charming do-gooder Carter (Israel Broussard), holding only hazy memories from the night before and a charming case of bed-head.

We quickly love-to-hate Tree. She would fit in nicely with the bee-yotches of Mean Girls, or the not so sweet Sorority of Scream Queens. Tree goes about her day; ignoring do-gooders, shaming a date from hell, and smashing cupcakes left and right (a travesty to cupcakes everywhere). She’s self-centered, but something cracks beneath the surface. We learn she’s been hiding the fact that it’s her Birthday, and catch her ignoring calls from Daddy.

After a tour around campus and a rendezvous or two with our cast of characters, it’s plot time. Tree heads to a party, opting to take a questionable route alone at night. Cue the Bayfield Baby, our masked assailant. After a short and creepy tussle in an underpass, Tree wakes up in hangoverland. Again.

We again follow Tree throughout her route as she works through some ‘maybe a murder victim’ amnesia. Hangover in Carter’s bed. Campus quad. Cupcake. Late for class. Party time. Appearing from the shadows like a bad memory, Babyface is back and succeeds in killing Tree a second time.  Instead of meeting her maker, Tree is sent back to round one. And again. And again. Tree gets stuck in a loop, every night meeting her end and winding up back at the beginning. But as the death count piles up (or does it?), the wounds start to come back with her. Time is running out and Tree must track her killer and solve her own murder before she runs out of lives.

Overall, Happy Death Day is a fun, action-packed hour and a half. Without breaking the wheel, it delivers a rowdy slasher that youths will surely eat up. The unique structure of this film provides fun from the first death to the final and will connect to its underage audience with pore-taste jokes and feel good moments. Movie-going audiences will turn junior detectives attempting to solve this pleasantly macabre mystery.

Though the ‘varsity whodunnit’ sub-sub-genre may be a little tired for the seasoned horror fan (clutching tightly to their copies of Scream 2), this film will find its home with a crowd just discovering horror. And for them, it will be a treat.

3/4 eberts

  Happy Death Day is directed by Christopher Landon, who co-wrote the film with Scott Lobdell. Jessica Rothe stars. The film opens wide in theaters this Friday, October 13th.

  P.S- I’m being super vague about my thoughts on purpose #sorrynotsorry. You can hear our full opinion on next week’s Episode of Nightmare on Film Street Podcast. Download it wherever podcasts lurk. Or, you know.. on this website.