#she said that I was a big inspiration for her to get into horror art back in the day and ive been so fucking emotional about that
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The Amazing Digital Circus, as seen by a Murder Drones fan
("Candy Carrier Chaos" inspired me to write this. Fair warning, it's a long one. Potential spoilers ahead)
I stumbled into the indie animation scene on YouTube by accident. It was like finding hidden treasure. I have no hate for the big-name studios, but everything I'd been seeing up until then seemed...homogenized...over-processed, somehow? It's hard to describe. Like eating fast food when you want a home cooked meal.
Now here were stories that were all wonderfully different, in subject matter and style. I started with "Lackadaisy", which was so beautiful, it left me stunned.
(The only reason you don't see more Lackadaisy fanart from me is because it's difficult drawing cats. I'm practicing, though.)
A few more clicks brought me to "Murder Drones", and it was love at first sight.
I connected to Uzi's character within her first minutes on-screen. Despite the dark tone of the story, I still hold out hope for a good ending.
Then I started seeing teasers for a new series, "The Amazing Digital Circus".
The art style and bright colors weren't my usual speed, but I decided to check it out anyway.
Personal confession, "Digital Circus" scares me more than "Murder Drones". While "Murder Drones" wears its horror inspirations on its sleeve, to me, it's more the "cool" kind of horror that I would scribble on my notebooks between classes.
Vampires, monsters, battling the forces of darkness while jamming to nightcore, you get the idea.
I have legitimately had nightmares that look like the "Digital Circus". Strange worlds of twisted colors and shapes, people I don't know, doors and staircases that lead nowhere.
All that said, I did enjoy the pilot, I found the setup and the characters interesting, and wanted to see more.
Side note, I know the studio sometimes seems to favor "Digital Circus", and it causes some resentment between the fandoms.
For myself, I see our fandoms as siblings. Let us watch our faves (hopefully) triumph over the horrors together.
This brings me to "Candy Carrier Chaos".
It happened to debut on one of my bad days, when I was feeling down, to put it mildly.
Like I didn't matter. Like no one would notice or remember me if I were gone.
And so that opening scene of Pomni's nightmare hit me like a punch in the gut.
I won't go into the episode's plot too much, as I'm sure others here have already done that and better than I ever could. The whole reason I'm writing this is because of that ending.
The members of the Circus take the time and care to remember the friend they lost in the pilot, apparently the latest of many.
They all feel the pain of loss, of being trapped in this strange world. But they still have each other. For now, at least.
The look on Pomni's face when she realizes she's not alone. When her vision replays, it has changed.
Now, there are helping hands to take hold of her. To pull her back up out of the darkness.
I honestly became a little teary-eyed at that scene. It got me thinking, "maybe the bad days are liars. Maybe I would be missed, after all."
The power of storytelling through animation. With all my heart, I hope this medium continues to grow and flourish. To any aspiring animators and artists out there, this random Tumblr person asks, please don't give up the dream. There are people out there that need to hear your stories.
In the meantime, Pomni remains where she is...and so do I. Thank you so much if you've read this whole thing. I really appreciate it.
#the amazing digital circus#murder drones#lackadaisy#fandom thoughts#indie animation#long may it shine#tracy j butler#liam vickers animation#gooseworx#thank you for sending your stories out into the world
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MELBNOVA MINI HAUL! I was only there for the last hour and a half of Sunday and I ended up snagging way more stuff than I thought I would and I had such a lovely time talking to artists!!
Immense shoutout to my friend Jenny who I have not seen in far too long, and it was a delight catching up. I traded some art with her and got the phenomenal Furby print, and she drew a very long very fucked up furby on the back for me - as well as the sweetest, kindest note. Screaming, crying, throwing up. Thank you Jenny I'm not over this. This was so fucking nice of you.
#not my art#shy talks#she said that I was a big inspiration for her to get into horror art back in the day and ive been so fucking emotional about that#like holy SHIT#and she's AMAZING and has been making the most superb horror art the last few years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#trying to convince her to return to tumblr cause she likes resident evil#and fucked up infected Leon so yknow we gotta get her to join the gang#anyway PLEASE follow her on instagram she is so lovely
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Would you recommend the SSSS comic? I know little of it beside the very beautiful artstyle and premise
to answer the question of if i would recommend SSSS as a comic: yes, yes i would.
a description for those who don't know: Stand Still Stay Silent is a post-apocalyptic horror + adventure webcomic set in the nordics (norway, sweden, denmark, finland, iceland) that have been isolated from the rest of the world and gone back to their old gods. the the world outside of safe zones is full of trolls and beasts - humans and mammals that got infected by a horrible virus and turned into monsters. the story follows a ragtag crew that ventures into the old world (derelict denmark) on an expedition to collect books.
the comic updated every workday until it concluded in 2022, and consists of two Adventures. the creator had plans for many adventures with these characters in this world, but ended it after two when she wanted to take a new direction with her life.
what i love about it:
- the art is GORGEOUS. it's been a huge source of inspiration for me. open any page and it's a masterpiece, and you will ask yourself "how the FUCK did she update this FIVE DAYS A WEEK"
- the characters are wonderful and endearing. i just, i love them so much. i am so thankful lalli hotakainen exists he is one of my #1 blorbos forever
- the world is so cool. the blend of chunky sci-fi and norse mythology fantasy magic slaps. it goes so hard. i fell so hard for this comic when i got to the big ferry ship with a viking style dragon head prow added to it. it's everything
- it really really gets nordic cultures. it's difficult to explain all the dynamics and nuances but it just gets it. it brings me as a scandinavian a lot of joy to read a story that speaks to my heart this way. the attitudes, the language barriers, the cultural differences... it was so refreshing to me in a media landscape dominated by american stories. when the pandemic hit, i decided to reread the comic because i found such an odd comfort in seeing how it depicted the scandinavian countries reacting to, well, a pandemic.
- there's kittycats
what i don't like about it:
- the most glaring and obvious flaw is that everyone in the comic is white. there's not a single character of color anywhere, not even i background shots or the prologue. there's no mention of the saami people (the indigenous people of northern europe), either. i believe this was done in ignorance more than malicious intent, but the implications are Extremely Bad and it's been bothering me (AND MANY OTHERS) since day 1. that is the number one caveat i will give to anyone wanting to check this comic out. i've been in the discourse trenches and i am not going to excuse this. it's just bad!
- you can tell in the middle of adventure 2 that the creator has kind of lost interest in the work, around the time when she found jesus i guess. like, very few people can keep up work on the same creative project for years and years and years and i think it's fine that she wanted to drop it, but it's a bit sad to see the comic dragged to its end like a limp corpse, and feeling like the creator no longer really cares about the characters.
- minna sundberg has said and done some questionable things, presumably gotten somewhat radicalised over time, and has also converted to hardcore christianity which is what her new works are about. there's nothing about this in SSSS - there is a moment of christianity represented in the story in a sort of mythological sense, just like the other religions, but this was written before minna's conversion. her new works... are a Choice. i have much to say about them, and i have, and im not gonna rehash it now.
SO YEAH hopefully this will help you take an Informed Choice! i got into this comic in 2015 and was deep in the fandom and it's for better or for worse part of my soul foundation now.
i also recommend A Redtail's Dream, minna's "practice comic" before SSSS, based on finnish mythology and the kalevala.
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you, among the art
word count: 1550
genre/theme: fluff and angst later, sculpting series, graduate student and her professor/supervisor, female and male pairing
as always, imagine whoever you would like...
find part ii here
sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist
“Have you picked out your supervisor?” Her friend asks as they stuff their books into their bags. Thursdays are always the calmest days. Students get let off early so professors can meet for their weekly meetings. Her friend likes to call them cult meetings.
They probably do rituals and all the statues come to life before they talk.
“Yeah, I think I’m going with…you know who.” She says as they step out of their lecture hall. She knows no name needs to be spoken for her friend to understand.
“You’re joking.” She shrugs as they keep walking.
“Do you not remember that horror story last year? He made that girl cry!”
“But she graduated with three job offers. That’s two more than the average.” She reasons.
“You know how you always say that this class, or that project, or this team, or whatever it is, will be the death of you?” She shakes her head with a small smile before they push through two big doors, going into the library.
“Having him as your supervisor will actually be the thing that takes you out.”
“I think the rumors are exaggerated.”
“You just tend to be naive.” She gasps and her friend only raises her hands in the air as if to say, I said what I said. They stop where the hallways meet and she turns to her.
“He might not even accept me. Maybe there’s another project more up in his alley.”
“I guess we’ll see next Thursday.” That’s when it hits her. It’s next week.
Her big presentation for a supervisor to scout her is next week.
“Shit, I’ve got to go.” She hisses before she waves goodbye and rushes to her studio. She snakes around the maze of hallways, thinking about what to work on today. It wasn’t like she was far from finished, but sculpting consumes more time than you think.
Even though it is in the same building, her assigned studio is far from the classrooms. She likes to joke that it is her weekly bout of exercise. When she passes the familiar statue of an angel opening her arms, she knows she is near.
Despite the distance, she loves that this is where she works. It’s quiet and it allows her to burst with so many ideas; sometimes, it feels too much. From the windows in her space, she faces the back of the angel, the illusion of her skirt pouring onto the floor. With the windowed dome above, rays of light shine on the statue, creating the most beautiful sight on this campus.
She takes her notebook out and flips to her most recent page. She was up figuring out the math behind her sculpture. It’s inspired by her favorite movie, Black Swan. The ballerina curls into herself as wings shoot out of her back in different directions. It is meant to portray the dancer falling into darkness as she tries to hold onto the pure image she currently has. How does she balance both at the same time?
The thing she isn’t quite sure about is the face. She’s always struggled with them and this time, she wants to perfectly capture the fear and excitement in each half of the face. There is only so much one can show with a still statue but she wants to make sure that it is the most that she is showing.
She looks back between the sketch and the statue a few times before she starts her work. She doesn’t have to finish it before Thursday, that’s what the supervisor is there for. However, she does have to show enough to convince the professors that her work is worth investing in. Scoring a supervisor will give her many benefits. Not only does she gain help in this final graduating project, but she gets more opportunities than if she were on this journey alone.
As she works, her mind drifts back to what her friend says. Yes, he has high standards. Yes, he made that girl cry. Yes, this might be a little ambitious. And yes, she is a little scared of him. But that isn’t enough to convince her not to go for it. He is the only one that she has considered as a supervisor. She’d be grateful for any other, but it’s him that she has her eyes on.
No, this isn’t crazy. This is just getting out of your comfort zone a little.
Seven days fly by and now she’s standing on the stage with her work behind her, and seats full of professors in front of her.
Her heart beats in her ears and she has to grip the microphone with two hands so no one can see her tremble. This is unlike her. She’s usually outspoken, the first to answer any question thrown at her. But for some reason, the faceless people seem to be terrifying her.
“Uh…” Breathe. They’re just people, after all.
“H-Hello.” Good. She introduces herself before taking another deep breath.
“I’m here to talk about my project, which is an inspiration from my favorite movie, Black Swan.” After that, it’s a breeze. She feels her muscles loosen and she starts actually speaking to her audience. She only has five minutes to present, with the next five for any questions.
They applaud when she finishes and the lights come on. Professors begin to raise their hands to inquire about her project and vision.
“I’d like to know why you chose that movie.”
She opens her mouth to answer but a short burst of laughter erupts from somewhere in the crowd. She thinks she must be imagining it from all the nerves but when she tries to speak again, it happens once more. She quickly looks for the source and her eyes find him trying to contain his laughter.
“My apologies, please continue.” He says but she is too stunned to speak. Did he, the professor that you’ve been eyeing, just laugh at her work?
“I…”
The room feels like it’s spinning for a bit and she has to remind herself that there are other people interested in what she has to show. But she can’t speak properly. She feels as if all hope has been sucked out of her soul.
“I chose…that movie…”
The rest feels like a blur. Those last five minutes felt like an eternity of shame and embarrassment on that stage. She answers the questions with as much enthusiasm as she can muster. It isn’t much.
When she finally steps out of the hall, she feels her knees collapse beneath her.
It’s over. He thinks I’m a joke. Everyone in that hall probably thinks the same.
She doesn’t know what to feel. Shame, anger, sadness? She sits there for a while, trying her best not to burst into tears.
“Letters are sent out.”
She doesn’t even want to check. She hasn’t told anyone about what happened. It’s too embarrassing.
She tries to avoid it as much as possible. Maybe she won’t ever have to open it. It’s probably a rejection letter. Maybe he had the time to write out what he didn’t like about her project and why he laughed at her. Maybe she is alone on this journey after all.
But as soon as she enters her studio, she finds the letter that has been slipped under her door.
She has heard many stories of this moment. They say interested professors leave their contact information on slips of paper. Some of them come with messages, others are just addresses and emails.
She clutches the pieces of paper in her hands, reminding herself to breathe.
“This isn’t going to break you. It’s just words. It’s just words.” She repeats to herself as she opens the first letter.
…Below is the list of professors who have expressed their interest in becoming your supervisor. Should you choose to contact any of them, please refer to the following pages on how to reach them. Congratulations and we wish you all the best.
The list isn’t long. There are only five names. And the very last one almost sends her heart flying out of her chest. His name, with the words ‘Preferred Choice’ in brackets right next to it.
She doesn’t believe it.
She flips to the last page and to her surprise and fear, there is a paragraph waiting for her.
Hello,
First and foremost, congratulations, and thank you so much for having me as your preferred choice. I wasn’t expecting anyone to even look in my direction after last year. I would like to take this time to apologize for my actions. I cannot fully explain why I laughed that day but I do want to stress that it wasn’t because I was undermining you and your work. I think what you have going on is brilliant and I am very excited to see how it turns out. I believe you have great potential and it would do me the utmost honor to guide you on this journey towards greatness. I understand that asking you to choose me after what I have done is audacious. But I promise you, I will do my best to make you a successful artist. I do hope you accept my request and I look forward to hearing from you soon.
a/n: hello!!!! i'm starting a series! this is part one of it and i'm really excited to release the rest. it might take a while since it is finals season but i will definitely aim to get everything out before the year ends or early in the 2024! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! i also hope you've all been well in this busy time.
#angst#bts#jeon jungkook x reader#kim taehyung x reader#jung hoseok x reader#kim namjoon x reader#park jimin x reader#kim seokjin x reader#min yoongi x reader#bts angst#kpop imagines#svt x reader#seungkwan x reader#seungcheol x reader#vernon x reader#minghao x reader#joshua x reader#jun x reader#jeonghan x reader#wonwoo x reader#mingyu x reader#dk x reader#dino x reader#hoshi x reader#woozi x reader#kpop scenarios#txt x reader#seventeen angst#kpop#sweethartlullaby ꕤ
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okay miscellaneous unova elite four headcanons let’s go:
-grimsley is always bisexual to me. however i vibe with both him being cis and him being trans headcanons. either way he’s always gnc to me though.
-caitlin is trans (mtf) and uses she/they pronouns. she and shauntal are also both lesbians to me <3
-marshal is panromantic asexual and i really like the idea of him being trans (ftm).
-grimsley enjoys classic horror films from the 80s-90s. yk the really cheesy horror films where some of them could barely be considered horror. i also think he enjoys musicals, but specifically musicals like phantom of the opera, jekyll and hyde, little shop of horrors, sweeney todd, the beetlejuice musical. he enjoys some recent horror films as well, but he thoroughly enjoys the cheesy, old classics.
-shauntal, on the other hand, loves the fucked up horror movies. she appreciates well done gore. she likes the stuff that would make most people cringe or look away. she’s a little freak who finds that shit incredibly fascinating. plus, it’s wonderful inspiration for her books!!
-caitlin is not a big movie watcher. she will watch whatever anyone else wants to watch because they will be falling asleep during said movie.
-marshal loves his classic karate and martial arts films. he’s a big nerd for them and owns several posters of said movies. however, you could also catch him watching a stupid rom-com… just don’t tell anyone!!
-shauntal has dabbled in a wide variety of genres when it comes to her writing. she specializes mostly in horror, romance, or a mix of the two. but no matter what genre she’s writing for, there’s always certain aspects and nuance to it that defies the stereotypes of the genre at hand. she also is a common author to see featured in the LGBT section!!
-grimsley collects playing cards. it’s not a very special or unique headcanon, but he has a wide variety of playing cards all from different places or themed around things he enjoys.
-caitlin has narcolepsy. i think this is a fairly common hc as well. since she’s often falling asleep and experiencing dreams, her dreams are prophetic more often than not. their psychic specialty is prophecy and interpreting prophetic dreams, however i believe she has the ability to do basically any psychic power one could think of. i like to think she’s a very powerful psychic.
-marshal and grimsley have a very unique rivalry to me. they’re best friends for sure, and honestly marshal is not as competitive as grimsley is. but those two fuel each other’s competitiveness to all hell. they have a running tally on how many times each other have won during sparring matches. they would also die for each other.
-speaking of which, marshal is very much the braincell of the elite four. i do think he’s a bit of a himbo, but he is actually the most responsible of the four and has the best coping mechanisms and self control (as a martial artist should have). he loves helping his friends and finds enjoyment in such.
-grimsley is likely the least responsible. he is by no means a bad friend, and he’s obviously very clever and smart. but he has a knack for disappearing without saying anything only to show up hours later. of course no one trusts him with financial advice. and he absolutely loves messing with and playing pranks on the others.
-shauntal is very caring and a bit of an older sister figure to marshal and grim. she’s also the oldest of the group. this doesn’t mean she doesn’t also like getting into mischief with grimsley, the two are partners in crime for sure. shauntal also has a bad habit of getting too focused on her writing and becoming a temporary shut-in.
-caitlin is reliable and trustworthy when she can be. the others are very aware of her narcolepsy and obviously don’t treat her like they’re helpless, but they do understand she won’t always be present. and they’re okay with that. they’ve known caitlin for ages now and so they know how to help, assist, and work with caitlin’s diagnosis.
-speaking of caitlin, she has autism. i see a lot of people depict her as very bubbly, but i see her as more blunt and monotone. along with her constant tiredness, she doesn’t have the energy to keep up verbal appearances, and so sometimes she comes off as rude or apathetic. she also has a very sarcastic sense of humor, which grimsley finds extremely hilarious. she makes him laugh all the time.
-caitlin’s style is very pink and bubbly and has the black cat personality, while shauntal has the black cat style and the bubbly personality. they are gay <3
UH I SHOULD PROBABLY STOP THERE BUT YEAH-
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Writeblr Re-Introduction
I have been here for a long time now, but I've been very inconsistent through the panini, but especially this year. My studies have been very demanding and my mental health has been not great, which is why I've been writing barely at all during this year. But the uni semester is basically over and I finally got ADHD medication (yey!!!), so I feel like I can handle more things at a time now!
All that said, hello, hi, I'm Karkki (she/her)!
I write queer fantasy in different forms for adult audiences. I like to write dark, a little twisted and bittersweet stories with historical and mythological inspirations. I love doing meticulous worldbuilding and genre combinations. Outside of writing I do art (more on my art side blog), sew, obsess over dress history (more on my other side blog) and study architecture and architectural history. I miss doing tag games, it was so much fun, and I'm very happy to be tagged to them (do people still do them?) though as a warning I've always been bad at answering them in timely manner (I blame ADHD). My blog (and art blog too) is in dire need of some updating. Only WIP page I have up is for BCC and it's very out of date.
I know a lot of other writeblrs became inactive or less active during the panini, so I would love to hear who of my mutuals are still here or here again posting about writing, and find other active writeblrs too! So please let me know if you post about your writing, even if not very actively, and show me your WIPs! I want to check them out!
I've acquired some new WIPs even if I haven't been writing really so here's a quick little intro to my ongoing WIPs some of which I have talked about here before, some of which I haven't. I also have WIPs that are currently shelved but I might get to back to at some point.
In The Name Of Violence
status: outlining, on hiatus
Living in the poor side of the great port city Mearemin isn't ever easy, but more so, if you are an ex-assassin hunted by your former comrades of the crime organization you once called family, hiding in a forgotten and very sentient library, which doesn't want to let you go, working as a private detective to survive and watching by as the dead body of your father figure turns into something very monstrous while terrorizing the city. So Ainur isn't doing great. Things change though, and not necessary for the better, as a noble knight comes for their help to figure out who murdered her husband, son of the most notorious crime leaders of Maeremin, their former boss.
Dark fantasy | Gaslamp fantasy | Gothic fantasy world | Crime | Murder mystery | Cosmic horror | Body horror | Illusion magic
Bear Castle Chronicles
status: drafting, re-outlining
Thirteen years after a civil war the four surviving children of the disposed duke are living in hiding. Valeri and Fiolev, the two youngest, live have finally gotten out of poverty to a middle class life under a pseudonym, thanks to Valeri's military career. But that same military career separates them as the empire is heading into a continental war. Cassia, the second oldest, acts as an opera singer and courtesan to spy for the enemy of the empire. Faerathos, the oldest, is hostage in the imperial court trying to uncover the secrets behind the civil war while dipping into politics as much has he is allowed under the empress' watchful eye. Industrialization and war on horizon means big changes and maybe a possibility for revenge or justice.
Dark fantasy | Industrial fantasy world | Political intrigue | Mystery | Horror elements | Dragons | Sentient magic | Vengeful spirits
WIP page | Masterpost | Maps
Cast: Faerathos
Songs of Veerelings - The Song Of A Golden Ghost
status: development
A mechanical maiden forged from silver and gold, Miävi, travels the foreign northern lands with her human protector, Tiera. She is on the run from a veere (demigod race) ruled empire, after her creator tried to dispose of her, when she didn't live up to his vision of a perfect bride. A curse that will slowly crumble Tiera's body starts spreading and the only thing that can stop it is releasing a god imprisoned in the imperial palace. To save Tiera in return, Miävi will have to face her creator again.
Dark fantasy | Loose retelling of The Forging of the Golden Maiden myth | Medieval Finnish fantasy world | Music based magic | Finnish mythology elves | Apocalyptic | Body horror | Environmentalist horror
Be All My Sins
status: research and development
Mary falls into depression following her friend's untimely death. She's institutionalized for a short while after she thinks she sees her friend alive and has a mental breakdown. Her friend's family then invites her to their country manor in Scotland's cost to recover and share their grief. There she's drawn to a mysterious group of Spiritists, who believe her friend was a victim of vampires.
Aune is a young peasant living in late 16th century Swedish Finland, where military dictatorship is rousing a spirit of rebellion among the desperate peasantry. She meets a fascinating foreigner, who teaches her how to read and write and many other things in exchange for her blood. Knowledge is power, but as the tensions explode, it's still not enough to prevent the bloodbath.
Gothic horror | Gothic romance | Psychological horror | Mystery | Historical fantasy | Victorian Britain as main setting | Vampires
Comic Sans Prensentation
#writeblr#writing#writing community#writeblr intro#am writing#my wips#my writing#fantasy#adult fantasy#dark fantasy#blog update#writing update#creative writing#itnov#bcc#gmsb#gothic vampire wip#sov
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jumbo reading challenge update #3
This post has been sitting in my drafts for months. I have procrastinated posting this update for so long. I still have no plans for the rest of the challenge and I am trying to fit in the books I am reading randomly, so I have no idea if I will complete the challenge by the end of the year. I surely didn't expect to be 75% done with it in the first half of the year. Here are the links to my first and second updates on this challenge.
The Priory Of The Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon for the high fantasy prompt:
I don't know where I got the courage to approach a 800 page book, but I am surely happy I did. This is one of the best books I read this year. Challenging my fear of big books is teaching me how immersive they can be, and how special the reading experience becomes. This fantasy book in particular is very well made, I would even recommend it to people who don't read a lot of epic fantasy. I cannot wait for the sequel to be translated so that I can get it (I know I could get it anyway but I want matching editions).
Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman for the main character of color prompt:
This was the last unread book in my Gaiman bookshelf (which means I have to look for the books my collection is still missing). For some reason I procrastinated reading this book for years. I am happy I finally picked it up, but it was definitely not my favourite novel by this author. I was expecting something along the lines of American Gods, which is not the case. It's an entertaining novel, but I prefer darker fantasy.
Daisy Darker by Alice Feeney for the horror or thriller prompt:
I listened to the audiobook for this novel, which was made pretty well. It's a story inspired by And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, which is one of my all time favourite novels. I was a bit scheptical at first, but it wasn't as bad as I feared. After reading it I was a bit confused over my feeling for this novel, especially for the big twist at the end. It's now been a while and I can say that although the audiobook was very entertaining and well paced, I am not a big fan of the ending. I see what the author was trying to do, and I am prersonally not a fan. But it wasn't that bad.
Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton for the minimalistic cover prompt:
This book was surprisingly fun. While reading it I was a bit frustrated with a couple of things that felt very stupid, but to be honest after finishing it it made sense. It's one of those lighthearted adventurous books that needed a couple of silly things to work and it's fine. As I said it was really fun. I feel like it would be a great pick for a summer read, so much so that I am considering reading the sequel this summer.
Through The Woods by Emily Carroll for the clever cover prompt:
This was a rererad for me. I got this book last year and loved it, and since in the past month or so I have been in a big graphic novel rereading mood this felt perfect. I picked it for this prompt because the longer you look at the cover the more you notice some hidden detail. The art in this book is amazing, and it's overall one of my favourite graphic novels I own, it's the perfect gothic horror with fairytale vibes, I couldn't ask for more.
Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe for the non-binary author:
I am so happy to have this in my graphic novel collection. It's a very special addition, it was very insightful and emotional, and I know for a fact that I will be rereading this book more than once. I very much recommend picking this up. I felt like it did a great job at giving an idea of what it's like to question your sexuality and gender, how complicated and scary it can be, but also how joyful it is.
She Who Became The Sun by Shelley Parker Chan for the pun in the title prompt:
When I realized there was a pun in this book title my brain expoded. It's genious. The story of a girl who takes the identity of her brother to claim his destiny, becoming "the son", I loved it. I loved all characters. There's a light fantasy element that I hope will see more of in the sequel. Overall it's a very well done and engaging historical fantasy, and the gender in this is amazing. There's very interesting parallels, really strong characters that completment each other, it was a great read that I will be recommending a lot.
The House In The Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune for the water in the title prompt:
This book has been often described as part of the cozy fantasy genre, and honestly it's a great way to describe it. I really enjoyed my time with this book, it was the perfect lighthearted read I needed.
The individual book reviews are linked in the titles above as usual.
#bookblr#booklr#studyblr w/ knives reading challenge#jumbo reading challenge#reading challenge update#book reviews#book recs#book recommendations#bookish#books#reading#mine#the---hermit
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please dump zacharie lore bc i trust your input on sexymen as a onceler sans enjoyer And Also jfc the image is so tiny on mobile i can't even tell who that guy is
ohhhh you've done it now.
-rubs hands together- lemme dive into the archives hold on.
so to start, here is some larger fanart of Zacharie I got from my Something Seems OFF tag! (links to the full art post)
Now to get into the character. (there WILL be OFF spoilers)
So, I said he was pre-Sans not only because of his look, but for a variety of reasons, including that Toby said himself OFF was an inspiration for Undertale. I personally like to refer to it as, "If Undertale's genocide route was a standalone Horror game".
Zacharie and Sans share many traits. He is the merchant of the game and breaks the fourth wall A LOT. Multiple characters in OFF seem aware that you exist and are controlling the Batter, but Zacharie specifically seems to know it's a game and makes a lot of tongue-in-cheek RPG comments. Because of this, he does not seem to give a shit about anything, and is often portrayed as a lovable bastard. That cat mask? He wears it to replace the Judge character for awhile,--who's a cat with a cheshire grin--because you killed the Judge's brother previously and he is busy mourning him (which is heartbreaking btw). It's unclear whether or not Zacharie does this to mock the Judge or support him.
The only time you get a genuine response out of him is if you follow his instructions to find the secret boss, Sucre, and kill her. Even then, he only says, "...It's better like that" and then in the next breath continues to give you the best weapon in the game.
The biggest similarity between him and Sans is derived from a largely accepted fan-theory based off of some official concept art of Zacharie where he has angel wings and a sword:
There is also a story you can read in the game called, "The Frog King and the Masked Man" that heavily implies Zacharie killed the oppressive Frog King. The mask he usually wears is that of a frog face.
So, from all of this, fans came to the conclusion that Zacharie was supposed to be a final or extra secret boss as a final means to stop you and the Batter, much like Sans, but was scrapped in the end. I don't think this was ever confirmed officially, but it was pretty much adopted fandom wide as canon.
They released an album of scrapped songs for OFF that included a song called "Hip2-2". Most people believed this was supposed to be the boss battle theme.
youtube
(Adding my own personal evidence, all the major characters in OFF are named after Biblical characters. 'Zachariel' is an archangel, and while we never get a real name for the Batter, he would fit into the Satan role quite nicely)
I think a BIG reason behind Zacharie's sexyman status, besides his smug attitude and design, is alllll the mystery behind him. Like most things about OFF, hardly anything has ever been confirmed about him. What's the significance of the Frog King story? Who is Zacharie that he could just kill that guy? Why was Sucre so important to him? And if she was so important, why does he rat her out? How does he know this is a game?
The only thing that HAS been confirmed is that he is human, but that only adds more questions. This is a post-apocalyptic world where we see one other human, and they're basically God. Why and how is he presumably one of the two only humans left in the world? And again, if he's human, and only a merchant, how did he kill the previous king?
All of this also attributed to him being shipped with the Batter HELLA, which I think also might be why people don't remember him so much as a sexyman because he had two very popular ships, so people were thirsting somewhat less than they were shipping.
(Please note: people were also thirsting after the Batter HELLA, but I think that was less of a sexyman thing and more of a villainfucker thing)
I'm gonna sign this off by saying that, if you liked all this and you hadn't heard of or played OFF before and wanna know more lore, I highly recommend this fantastic 1hr30min analysis that was actually recently posted!!!!!!!!
youtube
OR
Alternatively, you can watch my favorite animated summary, still on youtube after all these years. Which is 100% accurate exactly what happens in the game trust me.
youtube
#ask box!#Something Seems OFF#THANK YOU FOR LISTENING THIS GAME RUINED MY LIFE ONCE#SORRY TO EVERYONE ELSE FOR INFODUMPING IT WILL HAPPEN AGAIN
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Hi! Firstly, I want to say hats off to the team for this game! It Lives Within is one of my favorites this year (: the horror, branching storylines, art, writing, coding: it's all magnificent!
Secondly, I just wanted to voice my concern about Lincoln's heritage? I know he's only "part Filipino", and that's great, I've seen Filipinos who look like him and that's already great! Filipino representation is important, and given that Choices had Filipino characters (Mirasol Bautista, Ace Dela Cruz, even ROE mc and her family are mixed Filipino), I was excited about Lincoln!
I've heard about the prenium scene where he talks about having a tattoo in tagalog, and given how tattoos can culturally important (see: pintados), that's great!
This is in no way an attack, I just wish there were more indicators of his Filipino heritage outside of the enthinicty part of his profile and the tattoo. My friend played the game without knowing he was Filipino at all until I pointed it out ):
In the game, you get a good sense of abel's heritage with the myths and food. In asks, joceleyn's and amalia's heritages are explored through food, name and appropriate voice claims.
So it was a bit hurtful that I couldn't see any of that with Lincoln ): If his story was meant to be about not being able to connect with his filipino-Ness as much because he lost his filipino mother (yes filipino is gender neutral) at a young age, then that's fine! I know a lot of diaspora filipino-americans can relate to that story.
Again, I love the game and the characters. And I'm not saying you should make Lincoln's filipino-ness everything about his character, but i am hoping that it's okay to ask for lines like "lincoln missed his mom's adobo/sinigang/dinuguan" or Lincoln cussed in Tagalog, or Lincoln studied his moms inspiration of Filipino amorsolo paintings. Even if just through the asks, it'd just be healing to see, especially in these rough times :)
Thanks for taking the time to send this in! I appreciate your thoughts and concerns ❤️
So Lincoln is much less connected to his Filipino heritage than Amalia and Abel are to their Dominican and Mexican heritages, respectively. There are a few reasons for this. Firstly, his father is not Filipino and so he didn't really contribute to including Filipino customs and traditions in their family. It’s not because he was opposed to it, but he wasn't that familiar with it, and also he was busy, had other focuses, and it simply wasn’t a priority.
As such, Lincoln’s mom was basically his only connection to his Filipino roots. Lincoln’s mom taught him Tagalog the best she could but as is pretty common with second gen Americans, he didn’t learn it that well and he’s not fluent enough to reply eloquently, just enough to mostly understand. She often made Filipino dishes for him growing up, and his favorite dish that she’d make is pork adobo. Aside from visiting his family over Christmas, he never really stopped to give his heritage much thought until recently, and it’s even harder to connect now because his mom is dead.
That being said, there will definitely be more instances of Lincoln discussing and connecting with his Filipino heritage future scenes, because even if it isn’t as big a part of him as say Abel’s Mexican heritage, it is definitely part of who he is (also don’t take the voice claim thing too hard or anything, it’s bc I literally suck at those soooo bad so I just didn’t come up with anything :’)) for now though, here are some tidbits!
He still keeps in touch with his lolo and lola and misses them a lot. He considers them more his family than his father. His mom’s sister helps his grandparents video call him on WhatsApp every few few months, and his lolo always does little pop quizzes on his Tagalog to make sure he still understands and tells him to keep getting better at speaking. His lola always tells him to come visit when he can and to make sure he’s eating enough.
His mother had a lot of paintings around the house. A lot of them were by filipino artists. Lincoln’s favorite was always Jose Joya, because he was always more into abstract designs and the way colors work together than painting identifiable things like people and environments.
Christmas used to be his favorite time of year because his family went all out in the Philippines. But since he hasn’t gone back since his mother’s death, Christmas is his least favorite time of year. After knowing how it feels to truly celebrate with his family, it feels empty to be alone. But even though he’s not with them, he has his own little noche buena by himself or with friends. He makes a pretty good pancit and will call his his extended family to wish them a merry Christmas.
Also when he was in elementary school he always cussed in Tagalog at school, because no one knew what he was saying and he wouldn’t get in trouble. When his mom heard him swear once she asked where he learned that and he said “I learned it from you!” She told him she didn’t know why he couldn’t learn other words as easily as the swear words.
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In Which Pieces Come Together
[Inspired by @monsoon-of-art's Pokerus AU]
The trip back to Jubilife Village had been...interesting. Namely, for the distinct silence from Lord Braivary and Warden Sabi. Akari looked back, finding the pair’s shared glances cute - although the shared smirks were somewhat worrying. But as they got back to town and gone to bed, the Dewott brushed it off. Surely it wasn’t THAT big a worry, was it?
She was regretting those thoughts now that she was running through town like a mad’mon, Warden chasing her with strange half-and-half orbs. Those things had sucked Akari in once, but she’d gotten free. It wasn’t gonna happen again if she could help it!
“OOOH YOU AIN’T GETTING AWAY THIS TIME MISS SHINY DEWOTT!!” Oh, and apparently they’d dyed her leg fur light purple. For...some reason.
Of course, her thoughts were curtailed when a gust of wind kicked up, Lord Braivary descending. A few townsfolk knelt or bowed, while the sane ones - like Akari - noticed he had more of those suction spheres in his psychic grip. The wide grin on his face was all the young Explorer had to see before moving to dart down an alleyway. “Oh Akari~ We’ve got presents for you~” And of course the bird was in on this too. Of course.
Well, regret not picking up the signals before. Keep dodging and weaving between telekinetically-lobbed balls for now. In and out, back and forth... y’know, this would be great training if she wasn’t terrified of getting Hoovered up (not that she’d tell anyo-)
*dink*
“...Distortion take me.” Not the most famous last words, but then again it was just getting sucked up and not, well, dead.
---
Rei (along with everyone in the Medical Corps) couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when Sabi returned to the Medical Corps tent, jumping into a pose with a Pokeball in hand. “Dewott Get!”
*da da da doo!* Odd sound for Lord Braivary to make, but really it just sent everyone into more hysterics. The ‘ball shook in response, which its wielder took as a cue to open it.
Akari re-appeared in a beam of energy, stumbling and blinking. “Wooogh... That was...not fun...” She plopped her faux-Shiny rear on the floor, unable to really stand as she swayed to and fro.
Rei approached, chuckling. “So they caught you, eh? Guess they were bound to land a Pokeball on you sooner than later.” He snickered, not noticing the dawning horror on Akari’s face.
“...pokeball?”
It was so soft it came out like a whisper. Confused, the ‘chu looked Akari in the eye - and stepped back, seeing the look of pure horror on her face.
“That...no. No no no no.” And she was panicking. What was wrong? “ There is no way that was a Pokeball. You guys wouldn’t lock me up like that, right? Right!?!” The sheer volume and fear in Akari’s exclamation made everyone step back.
“L-lock up...?” Rei stammered out.
The Dewott shuddered and nodded. “Y-yeah... Momma said that the meanest ‘mon get locked up in ‘balls, lucky to see light a few minutes a day...
UFF!”
Without warning, the Water-Type was bowled over by a Fire-/Psychic-Type, Sabi hugging Akari within an inch of the latter’s life. “I’m sorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msor...”
The stream of apologies kept flowing, the Dewott’s features turning from scared to befuddled as the Magby cried her heart out. “I-I hadn’t seen you being scared... just...just how to get you with the ‘ball...I’m sorry...”
The Dewott numbly patted the Magby on the back as Rei’s brain was able to get past the pile of emotions to Akari’s tale. He’d been intentionally ignoring his “partner’s”...quirks...ever since they’d met. But this whole debacle thrust them back into the spotlight - and he had questions to ask. Questions he really didn’t want to ask.
...he could wait until everyone had calmed down. Well and truly calmed down. No reason to rush, especially with Akari and Sabi’s current states.
-----
Several hours later, whilst eating at the Wallflower (along with a lot of other Galaxy Team members), Rei took his shot. “So...Akari.”
“Hmm?” She turned to him, mouth full of potato mochi. Another thing for the “Akari wasn’t transformed” list... oh he wasn’t looking forwards to this.
Maybe he should start small. “You never did tell us where you came from.”
*chew* *chew* *GULP!* “Oh. Well, I came here from Lively Town, but I was born and raised in Serene Village.”
“Y-you actually came from a town?!”
“Yesss?” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as Rei realized he’d said that out loud. Whoops!
Still, that was a point in the “was transformed” column. “Um, what was it like there?”
“Lively Town? Eh, not that different from most other places. Admittedly, I only went there to join on a Exploration Team.”
“...you’ve mentioned that a few times. What is an Exploration Team?”
“Oh! An Exploration Team is technically any Guild-recognized group of Pokemon that go delving in Mystery Dungeons.” And a point for “wasn’t transformed”. “I was...more a trainee, than anything. Didn’t have any official team to call my own... I was actually coming back from my first solo mission before I fell down on...what was it called? Prologue Beach?”
“Prelude Beach.”
“Ah, thanks.” As Akari moved to keep speaking, Rei opened his mouth to try and interject. Then he saw the glimmer in Akari’s eyes.
It was the same kind of glimmer some people had on Galaxy Team. The people who joined purely because it had been their dream to see new places. The ones who would ramble at length at their experiences.
...Rei shut his mouth. Far be it from him to interrupt a girl discussing her passion. “So there’s two types of Exploration Teams, divided mainly by what they do. Expedition Teams are the ones who go check and see if a new Mystery Dungeon has popped up, and delve into it to try and get as much information as they can, so the brainy types can go over it and all. The other type are Rescue Teams - they’re the ones who go in and rescue ‘mon who’ve wandered into a Dungeon and been trapped.” The grin on Akari’s face was the widest he’d seen (barring Mr. Emmet, but his smile seemed a bit...abnormal. This was pure, natural joy). “Kinda like what we’ve been doing.”
“I...yeah, it kinda is, isn’t it?” Rei took another bite of mochi, thinking. “And Survey Corps... it’s kinda like the Exploration Teams, I guess.”
“Wait, really?” Akari leaned in, stars in her eyes.
The ‘chu leaned back at the sudden invasion of his personal space, thankful for Captain Cyllene coughing and drawing attention to her. “Rei is...probably correct. While I’m not exactly sure what an Exploration Team does and how it operates, the job of the Survey Corps is to go out into places unknown and gather information. Why, Galaxy Team itself was formed from people outside of Hisui who wanted to see if the land was fit for settling. Heh...I suppose as it is now, human settlement is quite impossible, what with the rift’s apparent need to convert people into Pokemon.”
“Huh...” The Water-type nodded, seeming to accept the explanation - before blinking. “...what’s a human look like, anyways?”
----
The Wallflower’s diners used Eruption! It was super-effective.
---
Questions flew as the Dewott was dragged into the swarm of curiosity and confusion. Rei, for his part, just sat there with his mouth open. Akari... didn’t know what a human looked like. That basically proved his theory - that she was originally a Pokemon. But...her home was a town? And apparently there were many more like it?
...maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. If what she said was true, then that meant that Pokemon could either use the ruins of civilization that man had left, or maybe even make their own...
He’d have to ask about it later. The poor thing was being bombarded with a trillion questions right now, and he didn’t want to add to the pile.
Especially since it looked like she was on the verg-yup. She’d Fainted.
#pokemon#pokemon mystery dungeon#pokemon legends arceus#pla#pmd#pokerus au#Yeah Pokeballs aren't good where Akari's from#but they have to be used somehow#Wonder what Laventon thinks?#Probably bit more understanding now that he's a Pokemon himself.#Also ppl finally realize AKARI IS A FULL-ON POKEMON AND WAS NEVER HUMAN.#Kept them in the dark long enough IMO#Rough day for the Dewott#Sabi might have wanted to double-check her clairvoyance to see what'd happen a few minutes AFTER her prank#She won't stop pranking tho#Just...not gonna use Pokeballs.#Because obviously#chapter 11#Pokemon Legends Arceus: Mysterious Destiny
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I rlly enjoy drawing my Megatron w markers.
Also, de's an hercules beetle. I also have a colored version of her, but it's dark so I can't take it. Lots of purples and yellows though.
I was inspired by Armada Megatron a lot when making hir. Y'know, the horns. But he's also EXTREMELY manipulative and intelligent in my fan-continuity. She's also a dad to an adopted daughter ^^ Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss am I 'rite??
I have so many thoughts regarding him and Optimus and Starscream and her daughter and- GHURRRRRGHHH.
On another note, my friend said that Starscream's marker version was ugly because the blue eyes were too similar to the green, so I made a version of him in gray as well. And yes, he does have a blue tongue actually. And Megatron has a red one.
Megatron and Optimus' relationship in my continuity is really obsessive on Megatron's side. There's also a phrophercy that Megatron decided to interpret as Optimus would bring about his fall. Optimus is just the messenger.
I want to tell ya'all the entire story, but I'm trying to keep characters separated here, so yeah.
Megatron is a zero-to-hero guy. Started from the bottom, made his way to the top, but forgot his goal along the way.
His life began in the slums of Iacon, where xe happened to do many odd jobs. He was known for being reliable, smart, and quiet, so it was no wonder that people from the upper castes also started using his services. It was mainly guard or delivery duties, but there were some more interesting ones in there too.
An assassination. They wanted her to assassinate someone. They wanted them to kill someone. Of course vi did it. Xer was getting paid for it after all! That's how he first got zir first 'taste of blood'.
Those jobs were becoming more and more popular, and he had gathered enough shanix to rent an apartment and pay for their education. Politics had always interested hir, after all.
Eventually getting rid of bots wasn't just for money. It was to nab new positions, manipulate someone else more controllable in those places...
By that point, vi had quite a network. But it wasn't enough. Ze wanted more. New planets, galaxies. All for the betterment of Cybertron, as she said.
Practically all of Cybertron was under his claws, but a small rebellion had begun rising up. Their ideas became more and more popular, and they called themselves Autopods.
The situation only grew larger, until there was a full-blown civil war between the Autopods and the Deceoticons, as they were labeled by the Autopods.
Cybertron was running out of energon, so Megatron with himself in the lead went out to look for new sources of Energon, while the Autopods did their best to survive and also stop Megatron from stripping planets of the sunstance.
That's howvthey ended up on Earth, where they reakize to their horror, that there, they are the tiny ones.
@drill-teeth-art was the one that inspired me to make this fan-continuity and they have a really cool style as well! I love how the drawings look on paper, with the markers and all, which is how I gathered enough courage myself to try markers. Big thanks!
#transformers#megatron#transformers fan continuity#traditional illustration#starscream#fan continuity
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21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways
And
16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing
:]
1: definitely Invader ZIM and Madoka Magica
While I have taken some inspiration from both styles specifically the way I draw eyes (big ol pill shapes that contort and change shape entirely depending on the emotion) and general creepy imagery (the witches and all the imagery associated with them is fantastic visual horror) I can't deny that the actual styles of the respective series are nothing like my own. Especially Madoka being an anime with lots of detail and decent anatomical accuracy.
2:OCs
I've been told by multiple people that I have really interesting OCs but I can't find anything to do with them for you see I am an individual cursed by... "Blorbo Thoughts" I have a really hard time hyperfixating an my own OCs the same way I hyperfixate on characters like Snatcher or Cyn and I have no idea why- I mean writing an OC is fun until you realize your just copying the traits from your favorite pre-existing character so you try to make them entirely different and then you have a hard time getting attached in general. And it's only made worse when said OC has a VERY obvious design inspiration and shares personality traits with said design inspiration (gonna use a fandom oc as an example but my point still stands)
This is Syi her main design inspirations are GLaDOS and the Drones from Murder Drones
Just like GLaDOS she lives in an abandoned science facility
Just like GLaDOS she was the result of a humans brain being poured into a robot
Just like GLaDOS she loves to watch people solve various tests
The core difference is that the person who was poured into the computer was a mad scientist who experimented on their own heart willingly and is an entirely separate persona from the AI assistant she was programed be. She is incredibly unstable constantly switching between being a friendly pre-programmed AI and a deranged killer robot obsessed with progressing science forward. The advanced near-human sentient AI being completely aware of the actions its body takes without its control. It's a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde scenario.
She has more backstory to her but I think you get the point
Yeah I'm good at designing OCs but not very good at writing them
#Ask game#Silly stuff#Ocs are so hard to write#I can't be original for the life of me#I specialize in fanart for a reason
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Rant about Getting (Re)Traumatized by a Horror
I got this art project, the concept that I understood from it is that it had to be beautiful and horrifying at the same time. At first I thought of the theme Eldritch Horror, and so I went with something like that. During this I had recently come across an analysis of the game Bloodborn and absolutely love the story of the queen and how she transformed into a beast that had his eyes covered with a vale. I then remember the scene from the series Annihilation (completely forgot the name of the series until I went to search about the scene) and thought that the bear beast and that woman transformation look somewhat similar, so I wanted to draw them together.
What at the time I didn't know was that I was left scared by that scene and that there was a good reason why I forgot most of the premise other than a general idea. I went to look up the scene and relived my nightmare.
The first time that I saw it was because dad had started to watch and he usually uses the living room to watch his series on Netflix since my mom was using their room to watch Doramas. I was working on some homework from college and normally don't pay too much attention to the Tv. Then I saw a different scene where screams were heard from the forest and my interest was picked, so I started watching and asking questions since I missed most of the story. My attention to spam didn't last long and left for a break to my parents room since blocking Korean voices was easier than English or Spanish. When I returned since I wanted something from the kitchen that was directly connected and in front of the Tv I arrived just as the character said "don't move". And then saw the bear. It was a grotesque sight, but it was not what terrified me the most. It was when it screamed, the sound of both the bear and the human disturbed me. And then came the lady with the gun who started to shoot the bear. I couldn't continue watching when I saw that the mutant grabbed her by the leg and dragged her through the stairs. I covered my eyes but could hear the screams and when she went silent I slightly uncovered, just to see the mutant bear reappear through the door and attack one of the tide up ladies. I left the room after that without anything to eat.
When the assignment was made I mostly thought of just re watching the analysis of bloodborn, but for some stupid reasons I decided to lookup the scene from the mutant bear to maybe incorporate to my drawing so I went to search the scene that only remembered a vague idea and not the inter scene. I am no kidding when I say; I had to stopped the video 12 different times. And even went for a break of 30 minutes to collect myself on two of those.
You may think that I saw the scene when young and that's why I put that I was traumatized. I was 19 when I saw the scene and to this day, especially recently by forcing me to watch that scene for inspiration, the image of the mutant bear haunts my dreams.
I completely forgot that scene where active characters were eaten alive and on screen were a big No for me. The feeling that I got when watching it I had felt it when I saw a live action apocalypse movie or something similar. I also sort of remember a scene of Resident Evil where the bad guy was left to be eaten by a hoard of zombies by the protagonist. I don't care how evil or twisted his actions were. Been left to be eaten while conscious about it will continue to be the worst possible death that could befall to anyone.
#I wrote this at 1 in the morning with a morning class#I don't care about misspelling or that I have not proofread this
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The Michigan Multiplex Massacre
or
How I Spliced-and-Diced at the Movies!
My name is Norm Cain, and I sliced and diced people at the EYS theater in Buena Heights. I stuffed the body parts in theater seats. I was placed here because I got carried away with my last endeavor. She was...something special. Something...joyful! Her parents would be proud of her...she was raised well. And I had her, well done! I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. Gosh, I hope I didn't offend Sunny Johnson's parents. She was quite...sunny side up!
Listen:
If you are reading this, you are as sick as me. I don't consider myself sick. For my liking, nothing I did was sick. According to everyone that had me committed, I am sick. That's their opinion. Unfortunately, their opinion forced me here. How did I get here, you ask? Or did you ask? Hmmm...
Most might suspect I had a dad that sexually molested me, or I was abused by my mother. Hate to disappoint the masses; I actually had a normal childhood.
Psychopaths, as I seem to be labeled as, had a troubled past that explains their psychopathic behavior. Those psychopaths inspired books, TV shows, and movies - the whole works. Could it be possible, though, my beloved readers, that I just loved what I did? Could it be possible that all psychopaths love what they do/did? I had such fondness cherry-picking those that were worthy enough to participate in my joyful theater, and be part of it. How I miss that jingle from EYS?
"There's more joy at EYS!"
1. My Humble Beginnings
Anywho, where was I? Oh yeah...here comes the tedious and boring but vitally important to the overall horror you desperately seek here: back story. I wasn't born as a collector of exquisite human artifacts. My childhood was as normal as any. My mom and dad didn't separate. As I said before, my dad didn't violate me. My mom didn't molest me either. Nothing weird or out of the ordinary transpired, folks. I grew up in Buena Heights. My father worked for the Aireon Universe. My mother crocheted Afghans as a hobby and sold them at various art fairs (including Gibraltar Trade Center).
I had an older brother. Had, being the keyword there. And no, I didn't kill him, if that's what you were thinking. He died in a gruesome car accident on 696 the same year EYS Buena Heights was built.
I was the shit in school. I ate up learning as much as I could about anything and everything. I wasn't an A+ student. I was more in the B range most of the time. Wasn't until high school that I excelled. That's when I joined the film club at Buena Heights High and learned how to edit video (which became crucial later on).
I wasn't very social, but I wasn't one of those quiet types that people always suspect would SNAP! No. I had a group of friends. Not too nerdy. Not the burnouts. The intellectual kind. I've dated my share of girls. Nobody serious, until that bitch cunt-face Courtney Green came into the picture.
I started working at Cinemark Warren in 1999. I was a concessionist. My first weekend was the opening of that mediocre animated fluff-piece about little creatures making orgasm sounds for 90-minutes: Pokemon! Dreadful shit!
I was very good at my job. I provided the best fake smiles in the business. I could pop kernels faster than anyone. Managers liked me. I became a supervisor the following year. Yay for me. 2000 was a good year for me, though. No mistake about that. It was the year I discovered the movie American Psycho. Unfortunately, Cinemark didn't showcase it on their screens. I had to go to the old (and discarded) Bates Theater in Buena Heights for that film. I wasn't old enough, so my big brother (who was a senior in high school then) took me.
The movie inspired the Norm Cain you are reading about now. But it was in 2001, the film Hannibal came into my cheery world. Wasn't exactly a great movie (or sequel, for that matter). But, boy, did it have a startling impact! Why you might have asked? I just don't know.
We can't describe the why's to who we were. We could only embrace ourselves.
But rest assure I didn't partake in my little hobby until I got myself the gig running EYS Buena Heights on my own. It was in 2002 (the year Red Dragon was released in theaters) that I got acquainted to the EYS company.
My father got laid off from Aireon Universe, so he took a job in Chesterfield as a car salesman (my family and I relocated there as a result). A fucking car salesman! He went from a multibillion-dollar firm to a mid-level car salesman.
I had to quit my job at Cinemark (obviously), which was a blow since I was close to getting a management position there (and I hadn't even graduated from high school, yet!) I applied at EYS in Chesterfield, and immediately got hired as a proj (short for projectionist). Of course, nowadays - the world doesn't need proj's! Everything is digital. Despite how quick technology improved in just a short amount of years, 2002 was still a time when there was a demand for proj's. And I was one of the best.
I could slice, ahem, splice, and build a film reel quicker than most. I was efficient, and I kept the booth clean all of the time. I was like Totò from Cinema Paradiso, passionate over what was presented on the celluloid screen (even if it was a shitty Adam Sandler weekday matinee or an unnecessary Friday night sold out horror remake). I spent most of my time at the theater.
After just a couple of years of being the best damn proj in the company, EYS promoted me to general manager at the Chesterfield theater. I was also becoming buddy-buddy with the owner of the company, Mister Rick Miles (who happened to be the nephew of the late great Ted Dozen, who was responsible for all the Dime-a-Dozen's). Ever noticed why EYS's were always near a Dime-a-Dozen? That's why.
Rick Miles came up with the idea of EYS (short for Enjoy Your Show) back in the late '80s. The first of its kind was built in Lincoln Park to compete with AMC and the old Bates' theaters (which slowly dwindled in Michigan by the mid-2000s). EYS caught on fast. Three were built by the mid-90s in different locations in MI (but illogically in close proximity from each other). Once I became good pals with Rick, I tried talking him into building theaters up north in small towns like Standish, Alpena, or hell - Hell, Michigan. He preferred the McDonalds, Subway, and Starbucks business strategy - one at every corner of every block, one mile apart – close by.
The fifth EYS, residing in Chesterfield, was built by the late 90s. After the old Bates' Theater in Buena Heights closed down in 2004, Rick Miles jumped at buying that land and build his sixth EYS. Because I was doing very well running Chesterfield (and charmed my way up the ladder), Rick Miles had in mind of me helping him construct the Buena Heights site.
Mind you, I never intended for my dark fetish of the grim gore to unleash itself. One could say I was conflicted with my feelings, almost like I was chained up in a closet. I was unaware of the many possibilities (and freedom) I had once the keys to a brand new theater, built for me was handed my way. So despite the disbelief, my readers, I didn't come up with the infamous 'kill room' right away.
My Buena Heights construction suggestions were, for the most part, granted. I had liked the idea of replicating the preview board EYS had in the lobby of the Chesterfield theater. But, I didn't want the green-pea soup color scheme. I wanted the classic theater look from the '40s. Yes, this was a multiplex. 20 houses (that's theater speak for auditoriums). At the time, we could only afford one digital projector. That was ahead of its time, but funny how it caught on quick. I do miss the nostalgia of the 35-mm projectors. The sound of cinematic-clickety-click-click and black pixels on the celluloid silver screen. But must get with the HD times, I guess. Oh well.
What I couldn't include in my own theater: a coffee cafe stand, a movie poster store attached to the theater, and a separate auditorium that showcased classic movies...limited in space, I suppose. Oh well.
By November 2005 - EYS Buena Heights Cinema saw its grand opening. The business was slow for the first few months. Even with the fourth Harry Potter film out, then, it was rough for us. No matter. We had modest ticket sales, and the concession was doing a solid run. Do I really need to continue with this, though? I mean, you didn't pick this book up to read about some boring shit about an aspiring theater manager - or the daily routines of running a theater. If you wanted to know what it was like to work at the movies, you should've bought a used copy of Enjoy Your Show by Wade Bradford on Amazon, or go online and check out the weekly comic-strip of Multiplex by Gordon McAlpin, or even Netflix search the independent film, Surviving the Rush. All of those are great for seeking out what theater life is like.
You sick fuck, you bought this book because you wanted to know in details how I did 'it'...when I started doing 'it.' 'It,' quotations, equals...gutting people and stuffing them in seats. Once again, I raise the question - who is the sick fuck here, me - writing this delightful joyful piece in my cell I call home; or you, reading this piece in the comforts of your home (I certainly wouldn't expect you to read this at a doctor's office). It would be in bad taste to bring this book to a movie theater, though, there are worst things to take (like a gun, in reference to those true sick fucks out there).
On the contrary to what you may (or may not) think of me, I loved movie theaters. There was something beautiful about a dimmed auditorium where the only light source is a projector, beaming its glorious magic on a screen. It's an escape from the real horrors of life. What I did may not be considered joyful, beautiful, magical, or even sane to most. But I never interrupted anyone's viewing pleasure in the middle of the showing. And I never intended to hurt the masses. Now that that public service statement is out of the way, let us fast-forward to the year 2007, shall we?
EYS Buena Heights was making a killing, ahem, in sales. The concession stand was doing well. Ticket sales were increasing, the weekend after weekend. We were competing with the AMC theaters in the area.
Enough of that shit. Moral of the story - roses are red, violets are blue; die bitch, die! But my first kill wasn't a bitch. Bitchin', maybe. But far from a bitch. His name was Jason. And it was his birthday. But his last name wasn't Voorhees. It wasn't Smith, either. No. His last name was Johnson. Jason Johnson.
2. Jason Johnson
Fun fact # 1: there are 2,211,773 people in the U.S. with Johnson as a last name. There were 2,211,775 people in the U.S. with the last name, Johnson. But I killed two of them (unrelated to each other). Statistically, Johnson is the 2nd most popular last name. That does hold true since I killed two Johnsons (unrelated). I've killed others, too. But none of them shared the same last name. It was odd that my first and last victim shared the same last name. Is it a coincidence or a forced connection a desperate author would write for no reason other than their own sick and twisted humor? Who's to say? But there you have it - two less Johnson's in the country. You're welcome!
Jason Johnson was an old fella that got laid off at a factory that supplied parts for the Big Three. What parts exactly, I can't say. I'd like to think of something useless, like turn signals - since no one uses them anymore (I guess you need an app for something to use it properly - since most don't use turn signals anymore, but rather have a phone in front of their faces while driving). Gosh, I hope you aren't reading this on your I-Phone 7 while driving on 1-75. I had already killed 13 people - maybe 14 (the 14th is debatable). I hate to be the cause of any accidental deaths.
Anyways, his factory folded as a result of the Big Three deciding it was more efficient to have those same parts made by Mexican hands. And no, that is not an alternative fact. It's simply called the reality of Corporate America. Remember Jason Johnson, and his old employer, next time you argue over the misconception of 'buy American.'
I remember Jason Johnson as a free-loader patron at my EYS multiplex. He would come in, buy one single ticket - and hop theaters the whole day. He would sit through one movie for maybe an hour, then hop to another movie for another hour (and make an entire day out of it). He would walk to the theater every other day (he lived close by). He had no family or friends, just the movies. My useless ushers would just let him in, feeling sorry for the poor bastard. To me, he was nothing but a nuisance. And he caught me on a bad night. The night Rob Zombie killed Michael Myers on the silver screen. The Halloween remake was unleashed to the masses, and it was doing a killin' (pun glory there, folks!) It pissed me off that it was doing well.
I could go into details of why I hated the movie, and why it set me off, but you didn't purchase this book to read a critique of a shitty remake. No. You bought this book to hear about my mass, joyful, delightful, killings.
So Saturday night, while Halloween was doing well (countless sold-out shows), I caught Jason Johnson picking up abandoned popcorn off the concession stand counter, and eating them. Eww. How disgusting.
03. Courtney Green
Oh, and my girlfriend of four years dumped me that evening via text message. That may have set me off, too. Bitch.
04. Jason Johnson
I approached Jason Johnson as he was gobbling left-over's on the concession counter. Dare I repeat it, eww! For a second or two, I didn't know what to say to him, or what I was about to do. I had the sheer image of taking a Tensabarrier stand and bashing his head in. Or grabbing his head and pushing it up against the concession candy case. Or throwing him over the balcony upstairs.
He looked at me as I stepped toward his direction, popcorn kernels falling out of his mouth. Disgusting, pathetic, useless man. Society didn't need him anymore. My multiplex certainly didn't need him. Eww. But I didn't tell him what I was thinking. Instead, I smiled my fake, grade A smile - the same smile that helped me climb up the ladder to where I was - and –
05. Courtney Green
- the same smile that seduced Country Green to falling in love with me...before she gutted my heart out...that bitch –
06. Jason Johnson
- said to fuck-tard Johnson, "Good evening, sir. Are you enjoying EYS?"
He looked at me like a confused fuck-tard. I would consider calling him a retard, but that's an insult by definition. So fuck-tard will do. Fuck-tard Jason Johnson, or, Jason Johnson, the fuck-tard. However, and whatever you prefer was up to your liking, I prefer fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the fuck-tard!
Fun fact # 2: There were seven fucks, seven tard's, and one retard in that last paragraph - and still two less Johnson's in the country. Sorry folks. I am stalling here.
And I was stalling then, too.
I didn't know what I was about to do to Jason Johnson at that moment I asked him if he was enjoying EYS. And because he isn't familiar with social interaction - he didn't seem like he knew what to do, either. In most incidents when a manager at a place of business asks a paying customer (or, in theater terms, patron), how they were enjoying themselves at the place of business; the correct phrase would be, 'I am enjoying myself immensely,' or, 'I am having a dreadful time.' We call this interaction and dialogue. It's crucial in movies, and most undoubtedly essential when creating a story. I had no idea the story I was about to create for myself, involved the demise of fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the fuck-tard.
Jason mumbled something unintelligible and was about to walk away from me. I then took a few steps closer to him, introducing myself and asking if he wanted a private screening of The Simpson's Movie. Considering no one was seeing the 9:10 P.M. showing anyway, it was easy to arrange. Like a predicable free-loader, he took the bait, ahem, offer. I ushered him to theater 5 (which was toward the end of the theater, a small-house for movies that had been at the theater for a while). I waited near the door entrance of the theater as he plopped his fat, lazy, fuck-tard ass on the theater seat. A vision of his fat, lazy, fuck-tard ass - dead, came to my head. I turned around and went to the janitor's room. I closed the door and looked around. I was in uncharted territory with evil, gruesome, fucked-up thoughts in my head. I kept on having a tug-of-war with myself; should I, shouldn't I, should I, shouldn't I? And when I mean, should I, I mean, should I fucking kill fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the fuck-tard.
I was leaning more toward the left - which isn't toward the right. This doesn't reflect upon the left side of the brain, because in all actuality, I would be acting upon the right side of the brain. But in matters of should I, which was on the left - and shouldn't I, which was on the right; my urge of ending fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the fuck-tard - which was on the left. The left, should I - was now determined that I should.
Once I made my decision, I was now playing tug-of-war with how I should kill...
I glanced over at a garbage bag. I then looked at a broom-stick. How I should kill him, I wondered.
With Jason Johnson, or, as I have been referring to him as fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the fuck-tard, tucked away in theater 5 watching The Simpsons Movie - let's take a break for a moment, and go back to that bitch - because the talk of garbage bags and broom-sticks made me think of her.
07. Courtney Green
I met Courtney Green at a film class I took at Macomb Community College. That was back when I was climbing the ladder at the EYS in Chesterfield. We became good friends in class, started talking outside of class on a regular basis and ended up dating a year afterwards. We became serious. And man, we were great together. Friends and family would label us, 'perfect-looking couple.' She was the kind of gal I could see myself spending the rest of my life with.
We were planning on moving in together, but she decided to fuck someone else instead. I found out about it soon after. And once I found out about it, she broke up with me via a text message the same weekend Rob Zombie took his devil rejected ax and butchered a classic on the screen.
Fuck you, Courtney Green. And fuck you, Rob Zombie! Fuck you, both!
I imagine I am losing you here. Where was I?
Oh, yeah!
08. Jason Johnson
The black garbage bag that went over Johnson's head came from the janitor's room. The garbage bags were used strictly to wrap around broken theater seats. Made the theater look a little ghetto, but it worked. And the garbage bag over fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the fuck-tard, also worked. The sudden surprise of the bag left him gasping for air in less than a minute. Once he realized that his free-loading days were over, he kicked the theater seat in front of him a few times and then fell silent. I let go of him and backed away a few feet. I stared at my handy-work. An average person would freak out. Some would even cry, or yell, or faint. Me, I just stared. Stared. And stared some more. It was dead silent in the theater. Oops, mind my poor excuse of a pun!
The film ended - credits rolled - and because it was the last showing, no ushers came in to clean it. It was just me and the dead fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the dead fuck-tard.
I admired what I did. I had no regrets then, and I have no regrets now. But how do I make a dead body disappear? I didn't want to dispose of him. But I knew in most cultures, displaying a dead body would be considered wrong. Though, if we go to any church, a displayed dead body on a cross was deemed to be holy and inspiring. But I don't think nailing Johnson on a cross would be holy and inspiring to today's standards of living (and dying).
I also didn't want to turn myself in. I will admit it officer that I am guilty. I did like my freedom.
I kept staring at the dead body in theater 5 with a black garbage bag over its head. I guess you could consider a dead body as an inanimate object. Certainly doesn't move on its own. And that inanimate object made me think of another inanimate object: a chair. A theater chair, to be exact. I could cut the body in pieces, and store those pieces in the seats. That's fucked up. But I was on the left side of things, in fucked up territory.
I created a temporary workshop in a spare room near theater 5. I worked, pun glory, graveyard shifts, chopping the dead fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the dead fuck-tard, into little pieces. That was the easy part. Cleaning the pieces so there would be no gushing, slobbery, slimy, gooey, and juicy, liquidly blood oozing from the pieces was the hard part. I had to rinse every single piece (big or small) and freeze the parts. Once the various body parts were frozen, I unfroze the pieces and coated each piece with a popcorn scented cologne (it does really exist, look it up) - and started placing the pieces in the various seats in theater 5. I killed him in that theater. Might as well keep his body in that theater.
Each seat that had a garbage bag wrapped around it was being worked on by me. Each seat I selected to be worked on was a nice home for body parts. I would rip the seat cover from the bottom, taking out some cushion. I then wrapped cushion around the body part, and then place it comfortably in the middle of the seat. Once it looked pretty enough, I sewed the seat back together. I sat on it, making sure the seat wasn't lumpy or uncomfortable. It still felt like a seat to me. I analyzed, whiffed, examined, and making sure the seat was suitable for a regular patron. There was nothing to suspect that a body part was stuffed into the seat.
Holy shit, I might actually get away with it!
And so Jason Johnson, or, the dead fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the dead fuck-tard, is scattered throughout theater 5. Other than the landlord of Johnson's apartment filing a missing person's police report - no one came looking for Jason Johnson. Oh, and I found out while looking in his wallet before I chopped him up - the day I killed him was also his birthday.
09. Sue Curtis
Though I wanted to lie low for a while - my second killing occurred sooner than I imagined it would. Sue Curtis was a proud member of the Red Hat Society, a religious nut-job, and a real big annoyance to my theater. Did you catch the word, was? Was was a keyword here. Was. She was. Sue Curtis was a person. Was.
Anyways…!
Each time there would be a Harry Potter film released, she would be outside the theater picketing it because of the evil nature of the films, I guess. She also picketed The Da Vinci Code, the shitty The Omen remake, and for some oddball reason - Tyler Perry movies. She once went into a showing of Brokeback Mountain (not realizing what the film was about), and soon after the infamous tent scene emerged on the screen - she ran out of the theater and into the bathroom, barfed up her medium popcorn, and then raced herself to the box office - demanding a refund. She then wanted to see a manager (me), only to bitch me out for, her own words: ‘showcasing God’s sin on the screen.’ She then picketed the film during its reign (with the Oscar prospects it had, she had to stand there outside the theater a good, long, while).
She was also very rude to my employees, always demanding a hand-out because she spread 'the word of God.' I had no patience for religion. Certainly had no patience for brain-washed religious nut-jobs.
What was odd about her, like Jason Johnson - she had no family. She may have had friends, but my impression was no one around her liked her. She would bitch about one friend in front of another friend. She then would bitch about that other friend to the friend she bitched about five minutes earlier. The Red Hat Society that surrounded her didn't seem to be pleased anytime her highness, Sue Curtis, was around.
I hadn't planned on killing Sue Curtis. Not at first. Her annoyance was nothing more than a pesky fly that would sometimes bother.
However, that soon changed when she started irritating me over a couple of horror movies coming out around the same time. She hated horror movies, and always picketed them. But this time - she raised more hell than just standing outside like a buffoon with an illegible sign over her head.
The Mist had a November release date. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street had a December release date. And she demanded me to cancel both. She then kept leaving inspiring pamphlets about saving your immortal soul in the bathrooms. Ugh. I don't know what disgusted me more - her persistent nut-job salesmanship - or the fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the fuck-tard's free-loading off the concession stand counters.
Once The Mist was released, she changed environments of picketing, going from outside the theater to outside the auditorium the film was being shown in. She paid for a ticket to a random movie (certainly wasn't The Mist, which would be insulting to her). She then stood in front of the theater with a sign in one hand, and pamphlets in the other. She kept pestering every patron that went inside the theater. The last straw was when the film started; she entered the theater and announced to everyone that they were going to hell. I don't think hell could be any worse than hearing her ear-piercing voice.
Each time Sue Curtis annoyed the masses, I would have to kick her out. I could've called the police. Maybe I should have to avoid the big mess that would soon occur. Instead, I kicked her out of the theater four times. She would not take the hint. So once she bought her ticket the fifth day of her strike against The Mist, I asked her politely if she could come with me to my office so we could talk about maybe, possibly, perhaps, banning The Mist in theaters. She smiled a big ol' smile, showcasing her yellow-stained teeth.
But I didn't usher her to my office. Instead, I ushered her to the room near theater 5. I think you may know where I was going with this. Sue Curtis, on the other hand, didn't know where she was going.
I opened the door and directed my hands for her to enter the room first. She complied. That would be her last time walking into a room. It would also be her last time entering the theater. I took a broom-stick that was leaning against the wall outside the room and jammed the plastic end of it into the back of Sue Curtis' ego-filled head. She screamed for a second and then quieted down. The world will no longer suffer from her ear, piercing voice.
She fell headfirst onto the floor.
THUMP!
Blood kept gushing out of her head. The stupid ass red hat was still attached to her head. I stared. Stared. And stared some more. A dead body was a funny thing to stare at. You imagine it would move like a live body. But it doesn't. It just laid there.
Fun fact # 3: The brain of a dead person still functioned a few minutes after that person was dead. However, for every minute, the brain did not receive oxygen, the brain would slowly die. But because there was a broom-stick jammed up Sue Curtis's noggin, I suspected the brain died a little sooner than a few minutes. I wondered if before I stabbed her senseless, she actually thought I would consider her illogical request. There was a "d" word that might come to mind. Oh yeah...delusional. But her delusions no longer exist. Her delusions died with her when I killed her!
It took a month for me to dismember her, and another couple of months before she was wholly scattered throughout the theater. Why? I had fun. Because she was such a pain in the ass and visited the theater often in her pathetic, useless existence - I wanted every piece of her to be all over the theater. Even a finger (or two) was placed under the cement outside the theater as a reference to her picketing.
The police showed up a few weeks after her death. I guess someone cared enough to place a missing person's report. I didn't feed the cops with too much information. I stated to them that she protested a handful of times in my theater, and I kicked her out each time. I fabricated the last part of the story - how she left the theater the last time she came in - and I haven't seen her since. Technically, that was true.
10. The Room
Between the time I finished spreading Sue Curtis's gospels, and body parts throughout EYS Buena Heights - and before the theater was introduced to digital projectors and a bar; I constructed the ultimate kill room. The temporary room that I used for Johnson and Curtis wouldn't cut it (another dreadful pun). It was too small.
The room located on the opposite side of the theater that held one-sheets (that's theater lingo for movie posters, folks) is slightly bigger. I decided that it would be a perfect location to fulfill my creative outbursts.
I also needed supplies. Saws, knives, a freezer, workshop table, a gurney. I slowly bought the tools, using EYS petty cash. No one suspected what I was doing. I guess it helped that EYS Buena Heights was becoming a busy theater.
By spring the next year, my kill room was complete.
11. The Rules
Like Dexter Morgan on the Showtime TV series, I needed to discipline myself on specific rules when killing so I could never be caught. Funny how that never, ever works out. But at the time, I actually thought I could get away with things. And by golly - I did - for several years!
Rule number one: thou shall not kill theater workers or anyone affiliated with the theater.
[I broke that rule with Sunny Johnson.]
Rule number two: thou shall not kill any minors.
[I broke that rule with Sunny Johnson.]
Rule number three: thou shall have a gap of time between kills.
[I didn't break that rule with Sunny Johnson.]
Rule number four: thou shall not kill my own family members, friends, or ex's (including that bitch, Courtney Green).
[I didn't break that rule with Sunny Johnson.]
Rule number five: once I kill a person, thou shall keep their body within the confines of the theater.
[I broke that rule with Sunny Johnson.]
12. There's more joy at...
Between the times I completed the kill room to the time Sunny Johnson started her employment at the joyous EYS Buena Heights, I killed a lot of people. If this was a movie right now, I suspect a montage of my killings would be shown with the Megadeth song, "Killing Is My Business... and Business Is Good!"
But I don't like that song. And I most certainly didn't play that song while I spliced and diced! Instead, I hummed the jingle to EYS while my full-of-life victims became lifeless as I killed them. Or, sometimes, I would hum the Outsider's Vengeance tune, "My Last Thought." Not because I liked the song, or because the band is from Buena Heights. I hummed "My Last Thought" because I thought it was a bit funny to hum a song about having a last remaining thought.
I perfected my kills since Johnson and Curtis. I invited unsuspected patrons to private screenings. I spiked their soft drink. And they never knew I killed them until their last few seconds of life-span.
Did I mention I killed a lot of people?
Let's see - after Sue Curtis - there was Kathleen Green, John Martin, Stephen Hill, Clive King, Robert Rowl, Margaret Baker, Jeff Mitchell, Kurt Harris, and Thomas Gut (I kid you not, his last name was Gut until he became, dare I say it, gut-less).
That's all the people I killed and scattered body parts throughout the joyous EYS.
No, wait. There was someone I am forgetting. Just give me a second, it will come to me.
Oh, yeah.
13. Michael Loomis
The god awful blogger of 'They're Here,' Michael Loomis. I killed him, too.
Fun fact # 4: Most of Loomis's body parts were in the theater seat 148, top row in theater 10. Some parts were placed in the butt-cushion part of the seat. Other parts were stored in the back-cushion part of the seat. No one noticed throughout the years that that seat was the most jammed pack out of all the seats I happened to insert body parts in.
14. There's more joy at...
Fun fact # 5: There were 13 people I killed all-together, but only 12 that I dismembered and scattered body parts in the theater. You might think I am being repetitious here, but I want to make sure that you get the point. I don't recall how many body parts I had all-together, but let's estimate that there were 50 body parts per body. 50 times 12 is 600.
There might be a little less or a little more than that (I am sure Buena Heights finest added up the exact number of body parts they recovered, hopefully; they didn't miss any). But let's go with 600, shall we? So 600 body parts scattered throughout EYS Buena Heights. That could fill theater 10 since 10 was the biggest auditorium (of, would you believe it, 600 seats). But I didn't want just one theater full of body parts. I wanted the pieces scattered throughout. That way, if I did get caught - it would be a disgusting treasure hunt.
To the Buena Heights Police Department: you’re welcome!
15. Temptations
Sunny Johnson wasn't the only poor unfortunate soul that I was tempted to...you know. But unlike Sunny Johnson, I didn't, you know, to those people.
Despite the rules I set up for myself (and then failed to obey at the end), I was tempted to kill my employees that stepped out of line. I was so tempted to end the lives of minors that always caused hell in my theaters (sneak in R rated movies, being noisy during movies, always making a mess). I had been tempted to kill another the very next day I had already killed.
Fun fact # 6: Courtney Green - my ex, the bitch - and the dearly departed Kathleen Green are unrelated to each other. Much like the dead fuck-tard Jason fuck-tard Johnson, the dead fuck-tard and Sunny Johnson are unrelated to each other.
16. There's more joy at...
It was merely a coincidence that most (if not, all) of these victims I killed ended up at EYS at some point of their last known sighting before they disappeared (at least, that's what I tell police). "Merely coincidental." I had my share of police interrogations. A couple of times, there would be strong circumstantial evidence that I was involved in some way. But the edited videotapes I gave the police and fast clean up I had perfected always proved my innocence.
A tad bit before Sunny Johnson stepped into EYS as an employee - EYS theaters added digital projectors to their theaters. It was an exciting time. It's the biggest change since the introduction of widescreen format in movie theaters. 3D wasn't just hyped anymore - it was gaining appeal. We were crushing competition left and right. And if that wasn't enough, EYS was toying with the idea of adding a full-fledged bar. I was a little hesitant, not because it was a risky business. Because it might interfere with my joyful hobby (and the hobby room, which was near where the planned bar would go in the building). But it was decided to go for it. And I made sure the construction of the bar wouldn't cause a reveal of my kill room.
With all those perks that became selling points to keep our theater in business, there were nice distractions from the increased missing person's list - that sometimes revolved around EYS. Oddly enough, no one in corporate had any suspicions about me anytime the police sought questions. As long as the money was made, everything was just a mandatory routine.
"There's more Joy at…
EYS!
That's no BS, we confess!
…so enjoy your show…
at EYS!"
I probably would have continued to kill to this day if I was never caught. EYS probably would still be in business. That was until a chain reaction occurred. One would call it a domino effect.
Fun fact # 7: The Walt Disney Company bought Lucasfilm in 2012 for $4.05 billion. The Force Awakens was the first of many new films to come, with a release date of December 18, 2015. It was a huge event. To prepare for that event, EYS Buena Heights did its first job fair in a decade. It was that job fair in which Sunny Johnson was hired.
Soon after, things fell apart for me, and for the joyful EYS. But things didn't fall apart for Star Wars, or Mickey.
17. Fun facts
Fun fact # 8: There are 7 fun facts throughout this book. Now there are 8. Also, up to this point - I had killed 12 people - and spread their body parts all over EYS Buena Heights. And then, Sunny Johnson came into the picture. She made unlucky number 13. But her body parts weren't spread throughout the EYS Buena Heights premises. What I did with the body could make you disgusted if you aren't already.
If you are disgusted with what you've read so far, my invisible hat goes off to you, for you are a person with emotions. Emotions are good to have, I guess. I wouldn't know. I am a person, sure. At least, that's what they tell me. But I am also a monster. They tell me that, too. Who's they? Everyone.
If you aren't disgusted by what you've read so far, my invisible hat goes off to you, for you are like me, an emotionless monster, but also, a person.
Fun fact # 9: It's easy to kill a person you don't like (take my word for it). But it's much harder to kill a person that you do like. That's why Sunny Johnson was very unlucky. Not because she was number 13, but because I did really like her (take my word for it - or don't take my word for it).
18. Sunny Johnson
When Sunny Johnson was hired, I became obsessed with her. She just turned 17. She had dyed blond hair (but she was a natural brunette). She was perfectly petite. I think jailbait might come to mind. But my god - she was drop-dead gorgeous. Oops. Poor use of a pun. My apologies!
EYS had always employed youngsters from high schools. That was nothing new. And yeah - a good majority of the employees at EYS were attractive, male and female alike. I did attempt to force a 'NO DATING' policy in the theater, but let's be honest - no one followed that. Put a bunch of attractive, hormone-filled teens in a building together for a good period of time - you would see couples in a matter of weeks. You would then see boyfriends/girlfriends/ex-boyfriends/ex-girlfriends, and more boyfriends/girlfriends. In fact, it was pretty much musical beds at the EYS.
I never really paid attention to any of that or the gossip that came with it. Obviously, I was more attentive to how much cushion the theater seats had after stuffing it with random dead body parts.
But then, I started paying attention to Sunny Johnson. She didn't pay much attention to me. In fact, we hardly said anything to each other. She viewed me as an old boss. This was her first job. She was an usher.
I would watch her from the concession stand as she stood at the ticket podium, tearing tickets and directing people. She had a timid shyness to her, but I could tell that she was cracking from her shell.
On her breaks, she would always buy a cheese pizza from the concession stand - and go to a random theater. I was happy to make her pizzas for her. She would smile, say thank you to me, and walk away.
I don't know if it was a minor crush, love, or what - but my heart would beat a few beats faster when I saw her. But (!), she was 17. I was...well...a hell of a lot older. I tried to reset my mind away from naughty thoughts - but it kept creeping back. I couldn't handle it anymore - so finally, I asked Sunny to stay after her shift one random Saturday night. It was a month after the biggest Star Wars movie ever was released (until the next biggest Star Wars movie ever released - comes out).
After everyone left the theater, I invited Sunny to the office. I didn't know where or what or how or why or when or...huh? I just...wanted...her. I didn't even know what I would do if I...had...her. I...just...wanted...her.
When she entered the office, I locked the door. She was already in high alert. In fact, this would be a good example of a sexual harassment video. Except, this wasn't a video. And it got much, much, worse. The #metoos and #timesup crowd would be livid at this point.
I tried to force myself on her and kiss her.
She wore her EYS uniform, which consisted of the following: a black vest with EYS logo to the right, a black bow-tie, and white shirt underneath the vest, black pants, and black shoes. Everyone who wore the uniform looked like a penguin. Sunny Johnson also looked like a penguin in the uniform, but a sexy penguin.
Before I even approached her lips, she slapped me a few dozen times. Her parents taught her well. What happened next - didn't end well, though. More like, sunny side down.
Out of reaction - I choked her. After a few minutes, she fell over - dead. Even as a corpse, she was drop-dead gorgeous. I guess now was a perfect time to use that pun, but I suspect it's still slightly inappropriate.
I stared. Stared. And stared. Then I cried. Wait, huh?! I am a monster. Monsters don't cry. But this monster did. I got carried away and reacted without thinking. But thinking had to come quick. What was done was done. Now what?
I won't lie - dirty thoughts crept in my head for a few seconds as I stared at the dead corpse that represented Sunny Johnson.
'Since I had killed her, why not look under her...'
Disgust all you want - admit that the curiosity would creep in your head if you just killed a very attractive individual.
I didn't want to add her to my collection. For one thing, the collection of body parts symbolizes my annoyances. Sunny Johnson was far from an annoyance - though, the last few moments of her life might be a smudge of annoyance. Just a smudge.
But I knew I had to dispose of the body...somehow. I dragged her to my kill room, placed her on the table - and stared at her beauty. Such beauty. What a fucking waste - and it was my fault. I still feel bad about it...well, sort of. Well, maybe, partially. Well, perhaps, I feel completely and utterly bad. I don't know. When it comes to Sunny Johnson's demise - I have all kinds of emotions. And monsters aren't supposed to have emotion of any kind.
Back to the scene. I still have a dead body. A minor dead body. Wait, let me reword that. A dead body, which happened to be a minor. There - that reads better!
Sunny's cell-phone had just ringed. Uh oh. I didn't even know if she drove, or had a ride, or missed a ride. Shit. How do I get out of this one? I smashed her phone in pieces and then threw it in the trash.
Well - I had already killed her...so...I guess...it can't get any worse than that.
It did.
I slowly took off her clothes, not out of sexual needs. I usually have to take off clothes when I start to disassemble a body. That was just how it went, folks. Once Sunny was naked, a little paler than usual - I stared. I couldn't help it. And yes, those dark, dirty nasty thoughts invaded my brain. But I withdrawal from temptation, and went to work chopping her up to tiny pieces. That took some muscle!
I then placed Sunny's little body parts into poster tubes (postal tubes movie posters are shipped in). I had about thirty poster tubes worth of Sunny Johnson's remains.
If you think that's disgusting, it gets worse!
I took those poster tubes home with me - and had them all lying on the floor that night. Who knew an entire body could be de-constructed into thirty poster tubes. As I stared at the poster tubes on the floor, my stomach made a funny noise. Not out of disgust of what I just did. No. I was hungry. I realized I haven't eaten all day. I grabbed one of the poster tubes and walked toward the kitchen. I placed the poster tube on the table. I then took a frying pan from the cabinet and put it on the stove. I then grabbed hold of the poster tube and unscrewed the cap - dipping the tube into the frying pan. All kinds of gross, bloody body parts started dropping from the tube. I can't even tell you which body part(s) were what.
Anyhow, I don't know what inspired me to start cooking Sunny Johnson's parts - other than the realization that I had to get rid of the body somehow. At the time, it made sense.
If I had to do it over again, I probably wouldn't have invited Sunny Johnson into my office that night. But...here we are. And the second I choked Sunny Johnson to death - my future - as well as the future of EYS, also died with Sunny Johnson.
But she did taste very good. Her parents should be proud. She was concocted in a few different recipes. My favorite was a Sunny Johnson piece, with a few eggs on the side. Would it amuse you to know the eggs were sunny side up?!
19. ...there's less joy at EYS.
Things happened very rapidly, drastically, and abruptly soon after. The police came by the theater the next day - asking all kinds of questions about Sunny Johnson's disappearance. I wasn't as smooth-talking as I usually am. In fact, I don't recall what I was asked or what I said as a response. But I became under their radar. And soon, an investigation unfolded. An investigation that uncovered...oh my gosh, the body parts in the theater seats. I was then arrested.
As soon as I was arrested, EYS Buena Heights closed. As soon as I was put on trial, EYS - the company, filed chapter 11. As soon as I was found guilty of my crimes, good ol' Rick Miles (remember him - former-owner of EYS) committed suicide. He was found lifeless with two empty bottles of Tylenol PM.
Fun fact # 10: The drummer of Outsider's Vengeance died of similar circumstances.
I guess Rick Miles had a lot of pressure against him. I mean, not only did his company folded - but people held him just as responsible for the killings as me.
Though I only killed 13 people - I guess you could blame me for Rick's death.
20. Guilty
The trial was a perfect display of how infatuated the public was to disgusting, gruesome shit. All the ‘journalists’ talking heads reevaluated all the evil, unspeakable crimes I accomplished (though, I must comment – how is a topic unspeakable if one is speaking about such an unspeakable topic at hand?) They may (or may not) have uncovered my past, trying to analyze every little micro to why I did what I did.
I suspect the investigation was a lot like connecting the dots - once Sunny Johnson was realized to be missing - and was connected to me; that uncovered all the other missing person's in the area (which I am responsible for only 13). I can't imagine what it was like uncovering all those body parts at what was being called 'The Michigan Multiplex Massacre.' Clever, whoever thought of that title! I wonder, though, if someone had the brilliant idea of trying to identify who's who before the trial.
But it was when I was put to the stand, in which I swear on a fictitious holy book, that the truth behind my so-called 'crimes' would be clarified in wholesome, gory details. And boy, did I disgust them all in the courtroom. I think even the judge had a disgusted look. Yet - it made headline news for months. I guess the most disgusting equals the most newsworthy.
Sunny Johnson's pieces I chopped up and stored in poster tubes - ended up (regretfully) consumed by me. All of it. Once the poster tube was empty, I burned it. There were times I was quite disgusted with myself, eating pieces of Sunny Johnson. I never once considered myself a cannibal. But I also didn't leave any leftovers anywhere.
"What about the bones?" you might be asking. Did I mention I also had a dog? No? Well, I did...which took care of Sunny's bones. I could've been a real sick fuck, and used the bones as furniture, much like the home stylings of Ed Gein. However, that was too much to stomach - even for me.
I pleaded guilty, unashamed of what I did (aside from Sunny Johnson). And, would you believe it, the jury found me guilty. Who knew, right? They added the ages of all the victims I killed; the amount they came up with is the number of years I would have to serve in prison. Let me put it this way, it was in the triple digits - if that helps any!
Fun fact # 11: If I lived in another state that still had the death penalty, there was a good bet that would be my sentence. But luckily, I live in Michigan! The death penalty in Michigan was abolished in 1846.
Yay, Pure Michigan!
I now reside in a prison, somewhere between Alpena and Buena Heights. I can't really disclose that information. If you've seen the movie The Shawshank Redemption or binge-watched Orange is the New Black on Netflix, it might give you a sense of what my everyday life was like.
The plus side in things, I do get to read a lot - though, the book selection here sucks. Because it was prison, they push the bible very heavily. Ugh. All I can think about when I see a bible lying around - Sue Curtis. I wonder if Buena Heights' finest found all her pieces. Gosh, I hope they didn't miss the two fingers I placed outside the theater.
Anyway, I was able to find an old 1973 paperback copy of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five. It was stained to hell, had blue pages (weird), and page 1 & page 215 was missing (very weird), which happened to be the first and last page of the book.
Oh, well.
21. Courtney Green
I also get to see a little bit of TV in prison. When I started writing this book, I saw my bitch ex do an interview on Inside Edition in which she proclaimed that she suspected I was a psycho from the very beginning. And she was appalled that one of the victims I killed happened to share the same last name as her. Toward the end of the interview, she started tearing up - proclaiming that she feared for her life tail-end of our relationship.
What a fake bitch! Wonder if she realized that her cheating ass did inspire me to kill.
Oh, and Rob Zombie's shit Halloween remake. That also inspired me to murder.
22. In retrospect
Aside from Sunny Johnson, and dating that bitch Courtney bitch Green, the bitch (!) - I don't regret a damn thing. And despite how disgusted people are about my crimes - I am disgusted that the majority knows my name very well, but doesn't know any of the victim’s names. I know their names. Do you? Would you have to go back to previous chapters to remember?
Fun fact # 12: With most mass murders - the murderers are more well-known than the victims.
Why was that? Was it the media's fault? Was it the public's fault? Was it both?
Fun fact # 13: Back in 2011, there were constant fights outside of the courtroom of Casey Anthony’s trial in Florida. What caused the brawls? People were cutting in line to get free tickets to the trial.
I'll say it again...you people are as disgusting as I am.
I do know for a fact that my strange and bizarre hobby at the joyous EYS Buena Heights will be talked about in Buena Heights for quite a long time. The city is tainted. I tainted it.
And I suspect after you read this, you won't sit in a movie theater seat again without thinking how lumpy the seat seems. And then, you will wonder if that was just cushioning in the seat...or...something...else...somebody else…that…was!
K.H.; March 24, 2014 - February 6, 2017.
#The Michigan Multiplex Massacre#now seating...#movie theaters#short story#self written#horror#Halloween#stephen king#kurt vonnegut#robert bloch#h. h. holmes#black clouds & silver linings#fiction
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Narcissist (alpha!readerxOmega!Bakugo soulmate au)
An: this is heavily inspired by the song narcissist by younger hunger definitely recommend listening to it!
An: BIG TY TO MY BETA FOR EDITING THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER OF A FIC WE STAN!
Word count: 3.2k (ur welcome)
Summary: Bakugo being a little shit basically- Mina and Denki r sick of him- reader runs out of scent blockers-
Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, Bakugo being a dick, reader just thinks he’s hot, gets a bit spicy but nothing graphic, non traditional dynamics (subby alphas) drug use (weed)
You were in a familiar room, one you’d come to love since you’d started dreaming of it, and you sat on the bed and waited… any moment now.
“Oi, are you here, shithead?” The voice of your omega was dreamier than it was in real life; his harsh words unable to punctuate the tranquility of your dream.
“I always am, Katsuki!” You chirped, grinning as he slowly faded into existence. The black tank top and jeans he wears make him look far too good, and your brain short-circuited for a few seconds.
“I told you not to fucking call me that!” He growled, but you only laughed. Reaching out to grab his hands before he could stop you, you pull him down so you could kiss him. Any anger he had quickly melted away, and Katsuki had pulled one hand away to rest on your shoulder and pushed back. You got the point, you pulled away for air and leaned back on your elbows as you did. Katsuki followed and straddled you without a moment of hesitation. His mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a hum. With one hand gravitating to tangle in his hair, he gave you another push that had you lying flat on your back.
“Hey-”
“Shut the fuck up, don’t ruin this.” Katsuki bit down on your throat and you squeaked, although he licked over the mark seconds later to soothe it, and only pulled away to kiss you when you tried to talk again. You melted, let your hands wander down to his thighs, and had your thumbs rubbing absent-minded circles. Then, Katsuki was unbuttoning the shirt you had on, hands quickly trailing lower to-
“Y/N! Did you hear what Mr. Aizawa said?” Mina’s voice brought you back from the dream you had the night before, and you blinked at her as you blanked.
“No way I'm working with their dumbass!” Katsuki snarled as Kiri forced him into a seat at your table, and you turned your head to Sero with a questioning look. He usually knew what was going on in class.
“We have a group project for a presentation, Mr. Aizawa picked the groups-”
“Oh hell yeah, all my best bro’s working together? Sounds like fun to me!” Denki leaned over to hug you and Mina, and the pieces started to click together. You were working on an art project, with your mate, who hate-
“How could anything be fun with Y/n around, they fucking ruin everything.” Katsuki grumbled to himself, refusing to meet your eyes despite sitting opposite you. Kiri mouthed an apology to you from his seat next to Katsuki. Honestly, you had no idea why he’d decided to act like… such a brat really, but it was just an act, however annoying it was. The two of you were soulmates, he’d come around, eventually.
“Oh hush, Bakugo, Y/n’s a riot and we all know it! You’re the one who goes to sleep at like, 8pm” Denki came to your aid. The electric blonde then pressed a kiss to your cheek that had Katsuki gritting his teeth.
“So, what's the project, guys?” You flipped through your book to a fresh page, resting your chin on your hand as you waited for the others to speak.
“We have to show the versatility of styles and composition under a singular theme!” Kiri was the one that answered you, and the group immediately started throwing around ideas.
“I think we could do horror, a lot of horror artists have different composition styles and still manage to convey the-”
“Tch, that’s the best you could come up with? I’m not surprised, an alpha as shitty as you can’t be capable of any decent ideas.” Katsuki sneered, but you only smiled at him as the group agreed with your idea. Your omega merely grumbled and hunched over in his seat as the group discussed the different artists you could use as examples.
You’d stayed late to double-check something with a professor, and you were still flipping through your notebook as you walked through the unusually empty halls. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and before you knew it you ran into someone, the same someone who shoved you against a wall seconds later, but your fear subsided when you realised it was just Katsuki.
“Watch where you’re fucking going, dipshit.” Katsuki wasn’t even sure why he’d pushed you up against the wall, but being this close to you, touching you… it was..nice…
“Tch, god your scent is so weak, you smell like a fucking beta, how’d I get stuck with such a runt, huh? Some sick kind of joke.” Katsuki’s tone didn't match what he was saying. The way he leaned forward to rub his cheek over your scent gland definitely said otherwise, but you stayed quiet, he always found some excuse to scent you, but he’d usually get embarrassed and storm off if you dared to say anything.
“You’re pathetic, you know? Being this submissive for an omega, are you sure you’re not a beta? It’d make more sense.” You bit your lip when Bakugo pressed a kiss to your neck, only hesitating a moment before he started sucking a mark onto your skin. His words bounced right off of you because all you could focus on was how hot he was and how he’d subconsciously put his thigh between your legs and thank fuck you were on scent blockers, or you’d never hear the end of it.
“Really, you aren’t even going to try and defend yourself? You’re even weaker than I thought.” A growl next to your ear made you shiver, and Katsuki pushed away with a snarl when he was satisfied. He cursed at you again and warned you ‘not to tell anyone or he’d kick your ass’ (he wouldn’t) before he walked away, leaving you to walk home with your head completely in the clouds.
“What took you so fucking long, huh idiot?” Katsuki was on you the second you appeared in the dream, pulling you down into a rather ferocious kiss before you could say anything. He bit your lip when you didn’t open your mouth fast enough, swallowing any protests you would have made, and continued to kiss you until you were dizzy. “I’ve been waiting two hours…” He pulled away to kiss under your jaw, and if you didn’t know him so well you’d miss the insecure tone in his voice.
“Sorry, Midoriya wanted-” You stopped when Katsuki growled, biting down so hard you were surprised he didn't draw blood.
“Why the fuck are you saying his name here, huh? Are you tryna piss me off?” He pulled away to sneer at you. You opened your mouth to explain, but the words died in your throat when he unzipped your hoodie, and any coherent thought you had went out the window when he started to kiss your neck.
Everything was ready. The lounge room was set up, complete with snacks, drinks, and stationery for you and your friends to work on the project. They were meant to be here any second, and you couldn’t help but hover near the door to your apartment. You weren’t used to having people over and it still put you on edge having others in your space. But that thought left your head when a knock sounded on your door. You quickly opened it and were almost knocked over by Denki and Mina engulfing you in a hug.
“Thanks so much for hosting bro!”
“Awww you laid out all these snacks and stuff too! An omega’s gonna be really lucky to have you one day Y/n!” They pushed inside. Denki closed the door as Mina oohed and aahed over the setup, their praise had a slight blush rising to your face as you sheepishly rubbed your neck. Sero was next, quickly hugging you before he joined Denki and Mina, then Katsuki and Kirishima last. The blonde pushed past you without saying hello, but Kiri pulled you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe for a second, and was complimenting the setup as you took a seat. You tried to sit next to Mina, but Denki let out a whine and the pair was pulling you down between them before you had time to protest. Denki immediately leaned on you once you were settled. Katsuki couldn’t focus on the project, how could he, when his two dipshit friends were all over his mate. And you weren’t even doing anything to stop them! In fact, you were leaning into their hugs and giggling at every stupid joke they made! It had Katsuki fuming. Kirishima was the only one close enough to smell the angry shift in his scent, and he glanced between his friend and you, slowly putting the pieces together. You really had no idea what was happening, but Denki’s head was on your shoulder, and Mina’s arm around your waist as she asked questions about the project, giggling and pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever you got confused, which happened more than you’d like to admit. The blonde gritted his teeth when Mina’s hand went to your thigh, you were his! Nobody else should ever be touching you like that! You should know better! So when you excused yourself to grab something from your room, of course he made up some excuse about needing the bathroom so he could follow you.
The door to your room closed with a click, and you quickly spun around, expecting to see Mina or Denki, anyone except Katsuki to be honest.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was seeing red at this point. He cornered you and made you stumble back until your waist hit your desk.
“Uh- getting more pens-?” You held out the pack of pens with a confused look on your face that only made Katsuki angrier. How were you so stupid? And so fucking cute when you were- he cut off that thought, he needed to focus on yelling at you. Not the way your brows furrowed and how you nervously bite your lip as you waited for him to say something. Wait- were you blushing? Fuck, maybe he should-
“Katsuki? Are you oka-“
“Shut the fuck up, dipshit.” He snarled. Then, catching you both off guard, he leaned forward and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately. He’d only kissed you in your dreams, which was nothing compared to this, and you hesitantly placed your hands on his waist. His hands went to your hair to pull you closer, tugging it until you got the message and parted your lips for him. Katsuki let out a hum of approval as he deepened the kiss, why hadn’t he done this sooner? You couldn’t focus on anything other than how much Katsuki tasted like caramel, he didn’t taste like caramel in the dreams. You couldn’t help but whine when he pulled back. Another insistent tug on your hair had you tilting your head back, and Katsuki didn’t waste any time kissing over your neck. You were so lost in the feeling you almost missed the words he growled against your skin.
“You should know better, you’re mine. Other people shouldn’t be fucking touching you like that.”
“Do you think they’re like…. Finally-” Mina made a hand gesture that had Denki cackling, even Kiri cracked a smile.
“I hope so, it’s getting hard to watch all the back and forth.” Sero sighed, dropped his pen, and stretched.
“Yeah, have you seen how mad Bakubro gets though? It’s pretty fun to push his buttons like this!” Denki grinned as he leaned his head on Mina’s shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his waist.
“I don’t know… Bakugo’s uh… stubborn, to put it nicely.”
“Your scent is weird… are you wearing a different perfume?” Mina leaned her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as you glanced at Katsuki. After whatever the fuck had happened in your room, he’d gone back to acting like he hated you, so, you’d kept letting Denki and Mina do whatever they wanted. He had his eyes fixated on the work, and you turned back to Mina with a smile.
“Oh, sorry about that! I forgot to refill my scent blockers and my doctor’s not available until next week.”
“Don’t be sorry, bro! It’s nice, like really, really nice!” Denki came up behind you, throwing a quick glance at Katsuki before he leaned forward, crooning and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland, Mina doing the same a moment later. The pen Katsuki was holding snapped, his angry scent pumping out in waves as he glared daggers into the book in front of him, all too aware of you laughing.
You were hyper-aware of how strong your scent was, this was the longest you’d gone without scent blockers since you’d presented, and you’d lit a scented candle to try and cover it up. It hadn’t really worked, maybe you should light some incense-
“Y/n! Sorry we’re early!” Mina’s hand on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before you smiled. Denki cut you off before you could apologize about your scent.
“Damn Y/n! It smells like you baked cookies- oh my god did you bake-”
“Don’t be stupid, babe, it’s just their scent.” Mina shoved him inside, shaking her head as she followed and closed the door behind her.
“Oh! Of course!” Denki nodded, and he and Mina linked arms with you. They walked you over to the couch and sat you all down with grins on their faces.
“Uh… guys-?” You didn’t trust that look, it never leads to anything good.
“Well, since the project is like, 99.5% done-” Mina started, hand coming up to play with your hair.
“We thought we deserved a reward!” Denki interrupted, reaching into his bag and producing a blunt. You felt your own grin forming.
“Oh my god- is that from-”
“Shinso! You know he sells the best stuff on campus, I decided to splurge for my bros!” Denki looked incredibly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but tackle the blonde in a hug.
“Oh my god Denki, you’re the best!”
The three of you were blazed by the time the others got there. Sero happily bounced over to share the blunt, while Katsuki and Kiri just sighed and sat down with you. Katsuki’s eyes instantly zoned in on where you were lying on Mina and Denki on the couch. He was oddly silent as he tried to keep his cool, the nagging thoughts that had always been there slowly got stronger. He’d always had to be strong, people perceived him as weak just because of his dynamic, so he’d rejected the thought of being with an alpha, hoping for a beta or omega. Or you. You never made a big deal out of your dynamic, and always treated him as an equal. Then the dreams started. He loved you, he really did! But his whole reputation would go down the drain if he was claimed by an alpha, especially one with such a weak scent and mild presence. So…. he pretended to hate you in public because the two of you had your dreams, where nobody could judge him! Even if they did pale in comparison to real life. But lately… he couldn’t stop wondering… were you getting tired of waiting? With the way you were acting… the thought made his stomach turn and his canines come out. Especially since you had run out of blockers. Your scent getting stronger and stronger as the days went by. You were his alpha! You shouldn’t be scenting other people! Especially omegas! And you certainly shouldn’t be laying on them while you were ignoring him! You hadn’t even said hello to him! You were too busy getting high with those assholes like you didn't belong to him! You were his, it wasn’t fair!
Mina was the last out of the apartment. She kissed your cheek and winked at you as the door closed. The exhaustion set in as you leaned against the door.
“What the fuck was that?” Katsuki growled and made you startled when you saw him by the table. You only shrugged as you went to pack up the stuff on the couch.
“Denki got us some weed because the project was done-”
“Not that, dickhead! They were all over you!” He marched over to you, trying to ignore how good you smelled up close.
“And? We’re not-” You responded, and Katsuki was shoving you before he realized, ignoring the way you yelped as you fell on the couch. You sprawled on your back and glaring up at him.
“Katsuki! What the fuck!” Katsuki didn’t reply, eyes traveling over your vulnerable form. Flush rose to his face as he realized how provocative the position was, causing warmth to pool in his tummy. If kissing was so much better in reality, what would it be like to be inside you? Feel you clench around him and pull his hair when he hit your sweet spot? Would your thighs shake the same in real life when he just kept going? The omega didn’t even realize his scent had changed, he just licked his lips and stared at you with hooded eyes, fuck he wanted-
“Are you okay? You zoned out.” Fuck, when had you gotten up? You were so close now, your scent overwhelming. He never wanted you to go on blockers again.
“Fuck, Katsuki! Katsuki! Are you in heat?” It finally dawned on you. Katsuki’s scent had taken on a sweeter tone it didn’t usually have, and with the way he kept zoning out, it was obvious. Plus thoughts of him on top of you that wouldn’t leave your brain alone. Your question snapped him out of his daze, and the omega snarled at you, stepping back and stumbling when a jolt of pain went through him.
“Fuck off, like you could trigger-” His voice cut off as another wave of pain went through him, causing you to reached out to steady him without thinking. The omega was going to let out a growl but it quickly changed to a whine as it escaped his mouth. You pulled your hand back like it had burned, although your mate’s temperature was so high it wasn’t out of the question. You took two steps back and froze when a feral snarl ripped through the room, dark red eyes pinning you in your place.
“He-hey Katsuki…” Your voice stopped his growling, and it took every ounce of self-control you had to stay coherent as he advanced, your rut already trying to cloud your judgment. Your eyes darted around the room, maybe you could make it to the bathroom? Then Katsuki could ride out his heat and you could talk about it? yeah. Katsuki was only a foot away from you now, the grin he had on was somehow more unsettling than the snarl, and you shook your head to get some of your resolve back. Okay, three, two, one-
You made it maybe ten centimeters before Katuski caught you, and pushed you back down on the couch. He wasted no time sitting on your lap and tilting your face up to look into his eyes.
“You’re not getting away from me, Alpha. I know you want this. I should have done this months ago.” Sincerity shone through your omega’s lidded eyes, and you felt your small shred of resolve shrink away even more. Your hands flew to his chest to push him away.
“Ka-Katsuki it’s just- just your heat, you don’t mean-“
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, alpha.” Katsuki was back to growling at you. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinned them down, and used his knees to keep them in place. He went back to cupping your face, red eyes boring into yours as he thought of what to say and a growl leaving him whenever you dared to look away. You were so, so obnoxiously pretty, it made it even harder to focus. Katsuki kept getting distracted by little details, like how your eyes shone and you kept biting your lip.
“You’re so fuckin stupid, ya know that? Of course, I fuckin want you, you’re my alpha- I don’t… I don’t care what other people think anymore, I just want you.” Katsuki’s tone was softer than you expected, and you could only gape at him as a blush quickly rose to your face. You knew he didn’t hate you, but hearing him say that lifted a weight off your shoulders you’d been carrying for who knows how long. The moment passed, all the softness went away as Katsuki leaned down to kiss you, and this time you kissed him back without any reservations.
#bnha#Bakugo x reader#omegaverse#bnha omegaverse#bnha x reader#omega Bakugo#alpha reader#reader insert#omegaverse imagine#bnha imagine
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Letters in Transition, 8 May 2022
A collaborative correspondence between @academicdisasterfic and I, inspired by our encounters with fic as queer, trans boys. Letters, words and art exchanged at the start of an unrestrained life.Previous entries can be found here.
The fics mentioned in this letter are Edward Nashton Gets the Netflix Original High-school Romance He Deserves by scribbleshrimp, and Away Childish Things by lettered.
Dear Rooney,
I think a lot has changed in the world and with ourselves between our last two letters.
You’ve now moved! This blooming temperate ground that’s all I’ve ever known welcomes you and rejoices in your every new step.
I just came out to my parents. It happened a few hours ago. Out of the very limited number of people in my life, they were the last to know. I think this detail in particular caused my mother a lot of pain - why leave them out of this big thing in my life? Why exclude from this journey that which she sees as my true home: herself.
I knew it was going to happen today, and so I’ve been a swarm of bees about it all morning, or possibly my whole life. You know how it goes - in the face of a discerning mother, all arguments fall apart. And so I think I’ve made this effort to bulletproof the…explanation of my identity, in the fear that some well-meaning but nevertheless painful hand will begin to poke holes in it. In this home you talk about. In my home, in my body that extends beyond me because of my minds image, because of an excess of hope, because of the pocket dimension that our identity stretches into.
You call acts of horror on our community and on our extended being attacks on your home. This is exactly what it feels like. It’s also, I’ve realized, what the accompanying fear is like. When I was a child, my home got broken into, and a few months later, a small 9 year old joy stopped a second burglary from happening. It left me with a strange, lingering tension that follows me around, and I never noticed that it’s that same tension I associate with the urge to keep my transness, and by extension all transness, safe.
As I was saying, I knew it was going to happen, so I tried to promise myself that no matter what happens, I would somehow be okay. And you know what the only thing I could come up with was? I got a notification that a WIP I’m reading just updated, and I said to myself: whatever happens, you are still going to go home, and sit on the couch, and read that new chapter. God I know that our own strength and confidence should be enough, but I am always overjoyed by how many trans people reinforce their homes with other things. I am so glad I reinforce mine with stories.
The fic I was so eager to come home to is not in the HP fandom, it’s a Batman fic. It’s very lighthearted, but the author has a very special and illuminating way of describing various forms of discomfort, discontent with the self. One of the lines that’s stuck with me since I first read it a few days ago was “I’m not a good ghost: I don't inhabit myself entirely.” What a line! What an idea! And isn’t that just what this all is? The evaluations, the repackaging of yourself to fit into digestible and understandable definitions. As though you are a spirit being instructed to haunt only some corners of the house. Like you, I have always, even before I had the language to understand myself, hoped for this nebulous feeling of completely inhabiting something - a home, a discipline, a self. To be kept away from that is an act of forceful displacement.
Everything went well. It went better than expected. It went better than I could have hoped, because I didn’t dare to hope when I was smaller, and my hope was timid when I grew.
My mother’s only concern is for my safety, as our actual home is unsafe for people like us. It’s not fair, to have an asterisk on your joy and freedom that requires you to be quiet, to be - in the words of lettered’s draco - discreet. That part of her response was the only one that broke my heart.
But with each new act of coming out, with each new effort to be true to myself and to my dreams, the spell that keeps my spirit bound to only half my home unwinds.
Rooney, I want us to be good ghosts. I want to inhabit myself entirely.
You walk through an unfamiliar landscape, I return home to my couch.
Inside, our homes feel more real than before.
love
joy
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