#and i'm excited for more horrific tws !!!

[gcdhoods]

PROMPT 008

YELLOWJACKETS AU — for @nourflage

in which the murder™ is caught in a horrific plane crash and left to their own devices to survive a harsh canadian winter with nothing but the power of teamwork, girlbossing, and cannibalism.  

tw: graphic depictions of murder, cannibalism, blood, gore, & body horror. please read at your own caution! 

i know of a girl who is a doe in the woods, wide-eyed innocence with the kind of smile that makes hunters stop in their tracks, finger paused just above the trigger —

she reminds them of their hunger. desire to consume what they do not have. a stomach growls regardless of the beauty your eyes feast on in the forest she calls her home; animal-hunger, animal-grief when you stand over her dead body. you wear her doe-antlers that you gouge into the side of your skull in her memory, a twisted taxidermy of your body. an arching of bone like hands to the sky, reaching for a heaven you will not get into. murderer. you swallowed her whole so there was no body to bury, only a licking of fingers. they ask you how you survived the winter.

turn her corpse over in your memory. did you steal her face or were you born twin reflections? do her antlers weigh heavy on your head when the snow dusts the bone-curve of the new crown your wear like a lover’s hands on thighs, caressing?

don’t worry, dear reader. the butchering is mostly metaphorical.

the hunger is always real.

✢

“i’m fucking freezing. there’s no way we’re going to make it past october at this rate — which of us has the most meat on them?” there’s a curl in javi’s voice that indicates a turn of his lips, a permanent fixture to his features now; old humour turned cruel if not completely drained of him. “badr, you’re looking scrumptious, plus there’s enough of your stupid body for all of us to gnaw on for a few weeks. be a real one, yeah?”

last night, i saw you in a dream. in it, you were covered in the blood of a murdered city, but smiling. free. the night before, i dreamt of another one of us floating in the lakeside as it froze; summer to winter in a matter of seconds, trapping her like a butterfly in resin. the night before that, he —

in the bible, people had visions, right? like prophets and stuff?

in every dream, i wake up hungry.

winter is coming and there are twenty-four birds sit-sitting on a tree. point to them with your rifle, shoot in quick succession. more bone to add to your antler-crown, gore still dripping off the points. wear you like a memory, moment of silence before you reload with a sharp tug, one eye closed and the other squinting into the scope.

they did not make you a bird of prey so you learn to grow teeth, start from the belly until it ripples into every inch of skin. bone-god, death-eater. that will come later.

“there’ll be enough to eat.” you say it and no one believes you; body already too-thin and on the precipice of death. vulture-picked even before all this. they think this makes you weak when all it does is give you more space for a filling.

“we won’t have to worry about food again.”

in the back, javi: “what the fuck do they mean? what the fuck?”

✢

it occurs where most nightmares do: at a school dance.

we will make makeshift normalcies in the wild where we do not belong — ( where we return to, always, always ) — homes out of foraged cabins and skinny calves brushing at night, learn to fall asleep despite the spiders crawling on temples, despite the thump-thump of something coming, of hearts sending out morse-code warnings none of us know how to read. weeks, now, and it’s almost sweet how we’ve tamed survival into a kind of domesticity as the changing of seasons sits patiently on the horizon, us willfully ignoring it and winter on its hind legs, licking its lips as it looks at our warm bodies.

“you ought to wear your hair more, like this — doesn’t it frame your face so lovely?” isabele’s practiced beauty is something from an old life unfitting for this old world, glitter carefully smeared over behiye’s eyelids. none of the roughness of delilah’s palms, wariness of warden’s shoulders; signs of nature’s erosion of civility on our bodies but none on your once, almost lover.

behiye’s eyes are wide, expectant as they look at you. there’s a smile as you lean to her, thumb swiping across lips to spread the gloss gathered, gazes locking. despite the gentle grace you still carry, there is a forewarning in blackened hazels that only she will know.

we will ruin this too, won’t we?

“perfect.” whispered, slow curl of mouths around the word. turn it into a melody. isabele smiles so proudly, hands clapping as she bustles to here and there to fuss over decorations and dresses, blissfully naïve. how you love her. how she reminds you of —

homecoming would have been today, if everything was as normal as it should have been. in this nothing wilderness, you will make a normalcy out of anything: flat beer you rationed into old mason jars to sip slowly, dresses smoothed with pressing hands over wrinkles, bonfires you dance around to top 40 songs we try to remember the words to. laughter echoes into sunset, into darkness. the flames still flicker but your eyes stay pitch-black no matter how close you sit to the fire, hands outstretched.

winter waiting. hungry for the warmth of bodies, of innocence.

✢

the blade is eight inches long, enough to run him through twice over.

you hold the knife high over your head, all the skull-crowns you wear laughing at his writhing. in this version of the story, he does not get the peace of death after decades of running from your grasp.

you want his dead fucking body now.

body meet blade in holy matrimony, tender as a kiss when it pushes through skin, organ, bone, spine, skin again. bowstring across violins with the repetition of our body’s anatomy like a melismatic run across notes waiting for a crescendo ending, with the sawing that comes afterwards.

is there screaming or laughing? there is so much blood and for once, none of it is yours. you lick your lips and you taste metal, taste him.

you can hear the rest of them coming, know the sound of bare feet against the dead leaves of the forest you’ve made a home out of, hear their whoops and screams of laughter. joyous. when was the last time we were this happy? you gave them this.

those who are here to witness the first of many touch your arms lightly, remind you to rise over the body, as you should. chins hooked to shoulders, giggling soft in your ears, cheeks nuzzled to necks. babbled praises, more sounds and sighs than anything. nonsensical prayers. good enough for now, but later you will have to teach them of proper worship.

“eat. feast.”

you are a benevolent god, aren’t you? you meet their eyes one by one and they hold your gaze, ready. waiting. winter is coming. winter is coming. winter has lived in our bones for years and years now. no one moves.

“you first.” behiye’s voice rings clear, sweet as church bells on a sunday morning. there are murmurs of agreement surrounding her, you.

you smile wide enough to split your lips, your blood mixing with his. what is a god without their believers, so lovely in their listening? you stain your skirts red when you kneel before him in respect, head bowed for a moment of silence.

i wrote of cannibal-lambs once. did you catch it? did you see this coming?

when i said i was hungry, i never said it was for meat.

✢

winter comes and never goes. the heart in your hands is heavy, slit throats gathering snow in the gaping hole you left in her. this is all for love, i promise. this was always a love story. i don’t know how to write anything else.

you rest the stilled organ in the middle of drawn futures in blood against the frozen dirt, candles flickering and animal-bone, human-skull gathered and placed carefully. the others are circled perfectly around the sacred space we’ve made, humming harmonies from the throat. you let your eyes close, thankful. you love them so.

we thank you for your gracious offering. you will find immortality in us. we will carry you safe back home. tell heaven we will return one day.

you hold it high for them to see, hoods draping off heads as you tilt your head to the sky. one moment, two —

teeth meet flesh. were you waiting for poetry? there is only this: incisors digging into the soft meat of a once-friend, now-memory, now-ghost. you tear the organ, blood dribbling down chins. greedy devourings, breaths of frost red-tinged. can you see it? can you taste the fear under your tongue?

they ask you how you survived the winter. you tell them it was easy.

✢

#blood tw #murder tw #gore tw #body horror tw #cannibalism tw #i just. sigh. i need to stop advertising that i write shit like this then wailing about it afterwards when i write it. but. yeah ! #[ exhausted kazoo noises ] #anyways thank you all for giving me a safe space to write the most atrocious shit ! i'm sure there'll be more to come !!! #and i'm excited for more horrific tws !!! #ty to claudia to helping me sus out the cast and mori j and marie for listening to me go insane all of last night + today finishing this hee #and del ! sorry i was pretty insane last night. you can see the aftermath of it :) #who's the cast ? who was eaten ? it's open to interpretation <3

[chronicbeans]

Romantic Husk x Maladaptive Daydreamer Reader

Brought to you by: I feel like you two would get along. Also I feel like I made the Reader much more depressed in this one so heads up lol.

TW: Maladaptive Daydreaming, Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mentions of Drugs, Depression, Derealization/Dissociation

• When you first stepped into the Hazbin Hotel, being dragged around by an excited Charlie and smiling Vaggie, he thought you'd be like all the rest. A bit more on the bold side, being able to make snarky comments, violent... Just, overall, like most other sinners he's seen. He was quickly proven wrong, however. You look over to him as you're dragged by the bar, but you don't look like you process him. He simply assumed you didn't get the time to process him, but once Charlie loops around back to him in order to introduce you two, you have that same look to you.

• "Hello... um, I'm (Y/N)." You wave a little to him as you speak, looking a bit awkward. Possibly from Charlie dragging you around from excitement, and making you meet everyone. He waves to you, nodding. He doesn't look very enthusiastic, or sound it, as he introduced himself. "The name's Husk. Now, are you going to get a drink while you're here? Otherwise, that's all you'll need to know, for now."

• Alright... so, first impressions were definitely something. They aren't his forte, at least. However, you succeeded in surprising him a little. Not with your words or gestures, but just by how you didn't seem to be paying full attention. He's great at reading people, as a gambler, and it's bled into his day to day life. He could easily tell. Now, could he tell why? No. His first thought is drugs, since Angel has a drug problem and so do a lot of people in Hell, but you didn't show any visible signs of being on something. So, he isn't going to assume anything. Perhaps you were just having a bad day, or were overwhelmed...

• The next time he sees you, though, is when you are having a group exercise with the rest of the hotel residents. Plus a few staff members, since there's not a lot of people here, yet. Lucky for him, he was chosen to join in. After all, who's going to be going to the bar when everyone is doing an activity? Once again, everybody is introducing themselves since there's a new person. That person being you.

• You sit there, clearly spaced out, as Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, and Niffty all do their little greeting... thing... that Charlie is making everyone do. Then, once it's your turn, you take a moment. Actually, you didn't notice it was your turn, until Husk gently elbows you, wanting to get it over with. You flinch, before giving a halfhearted greeting, embarrassed. You say your name, with your favorite thing being "being creative", and your last thing being that you don't like sharing it. It was odd to listen to, compared to everyone else's introductions. He just gave his, not thinking about it... much.

• Okay... maybe "not thinking about it much" isn't the right wording. He's thinking about it a lot. Mainly because he's worried about whatever the hell "being creative" means. In Hell, it could mean violence, drugs, and a lot of other horrific things alongside art, music, and writing. He wants to make sure Angel Dust is safe, too, if it is something involving drugs. He doesn't want him to get hooked on something new. So, he's going to keep a close watch whenever you two are together.

• You don't visit the bar often. Though, when you do, you usually have a few drinks and don't talk much. You kind of just stare at the table, the bottles on the wall behind him, or just into space while making different expressions. A lot of the time you kind of look empty, though. Husk sometimes crosses his arms and asks what you're thinking about, only for you to look up to him and shrug. "Hard to explain... Just a story I heard."

• You're clearly hiding something and he doesn't like that. He's not going to pry, though. While it could be something bad, it could also just be some personal stuff. Maybe you're just depressed or something...? Doesn't explain the odd expressions... maybe you're just hallucinating? Yeah. He'll just guess it's a mental health thing. Which, well, he's on the right track. Just the wrong answer to what is causing the specifics of what he's trying to figure out.

• Sometimes you talk about your stories when you get drunk, which isn't as often as a few other people in the Hazbin Hotel, but is usually a treat. He assumes these are those "stories you heard one", but he can already smell something fishy. You explain them in far too much detail than someone normally would. You can even explain miniscule things, like the psychology of certain characters, the way the world building works to the smallest ant's role, to even the biology of certain creatures. Nobody who simply "heard a story" would know this much. These are things the writer would know.

• "You made these, didn't you?" You immediately tense up at that, but slowly nod. Now, he's even more confused. Why would anybody lie about it? These stories are interesting. They actually kind of distract him from his problems, that's how much they hook others! Before he can ask, though, you shrug. "I kind of... don't like how attached I am to them. They're why I'm spaced out. I also don't want others to know about it. Don't tell anyone."

• Husk doesn't tell anyone. However, he kind of thinks you're overreacting when you talk about how much you daydream and how it's a problem. It's nothing against you. He doesn't think you're a lier, now. He's pretty sure you're being truthful, with just a little bit of exaggerating. See, he's from the 1970s, and whatever you're going through wasn't discovered until the 2000s. He just can't imagine how daydreaming could become a problem. Everybody daydreams. However, just in case it actually is a big issue, he won't voice it. The most he'll say is just that he hasn't heard of anything like what you are describing.

• He likes you. Now that you're being more open, he has genuinely started to enjoy your company. Your stories are nice to listen to, your expressions fun to watch, and even if you are having problems listening to him talk, he can at least understand why and not hold it against you. You're entertaining. He'll ask questions about your characters, and actually engage in your storytelling when you ask.

• However, it all changes once Charlie comes up to him one evening. She looks a bit worried as she asks Husk for help. "See... They've been in their room all day, and when I knocked and asked if they needed anything, they asked to get you." Get him? Well, alright.

• Once he gets to your room, he begins to realize just how bad of a problem it can get. You seem to have broken down into tears over something, and when he asks what, you just let out your every frustration. You've forgotten to eat today, you can't focus on anything due to daydreaming taking over, you feel a bit disconnected from reality... while before, you seemed to be able to talk about these things so easily, now that you're breaking down over it? It really puts it into perspective. Especially when you mention feeling disconnected from reality... He somehow never thought of that being an issue, but it makes sense to him. How could you feel connected to reality, when your mind is never focused on it?

• As much as he tries to understand what is going on inside your head, he knows he'll never understand it entirely. So, he tries to understand it in a way through his own experiences. With how much this unstoppable habit has been causing you distress, the closest thing he can compare is to is his alcoholism. He feels like he can't stop drinking, even if he knows it's bad for him... Husk is very much aware that it's not exactly the same, but he feels it's the closest he'll get to understanding your experiences.

• He keeps his promise of not saying a word about it to anyone. If somebody ever asks about what is going on with you, he'll pull what he calls "a Niffty", saying "You don't even want to know what's going on with them." He also becomes a bit more protective over you. He's seen Alastor staring at you, and he recognizes the look in his eyes. Alastor wants to try to manipulate you, like he does everyone else. Husk plans to prevent that as best he can, despite Alastor owning his soul.

• Husk might try to find ways to ground you. He would normally recommend going to a therapist, psychiatrist, or to get some medications for your mental health... but considering that you're both in Hell, the place filled with the worst people, that might actually be the most dangerous thing you could do. If you were on earth, sure, since those people can be trusted more often than not. Hell's mental health professionals are untrustworthy, though. So, he's going to try finding a grounding technique that works for you. Be it holding some ice cubes in your hand, taking deep breaths, or some random thing Charlie brings up one day he thinks will help.

• Now that he's dedicated to protecting you from Alastor, he might be a bit more open about how awful that deer demon can be. Well, as open as Alastor's leash allows him to be. It's his way of subtly warning you not to trust that smiling monster. Husk's gotten too attached to let not warn you of him.

• As you both spend more time around each other, he begins noticing that he's grown to love you as more than a friend. The little things you do cause him to blush, as much as he hates it. It's only when Angel Dust teases him about having a crush on you that he actually realizes that he's in love, though, and Husk immediately shuts him up. He's genuinely growing frightened that Alastor might hear it, and begin using you against him. That man has taken his soul, his power as an overlord, his freedom, and he knows that he'd be willing to take you away, too.

• Despite that fear, Husk is rather quick to tell you how he feels. He knows he'll have to tell you at some point, so he might as well get it over with. He also doesn't really expect you to like him back, in large part due to his attitude and the cat-like form he's taken in Hell. He doesn't like it, himself, so why wouldn't you see it as off-putting? However, he doesn't argue when you tell him you love him back. He is just a bit shocked, in a good way.

• Now that you're both together, your actual relationship doesn't change much from when you were just friends. The only real difference is the occasional kiss or snuggle sensation. You're actually a bit shocked by how much he likes to cuddle, even if he only wants to in private. He isn't really the type of guy that likes public displays of affection.

• All in all, life's pretty good with your protective boyfriend. He may not entirely understand what is going on in your head, but he's one of the most patient people at the hotel when it comes to hearing people out on their problems. He's probably one of the best if you're looking for a partner who'd rather give you grounding skills, rather than going along with your daydreams and using outlets like art and writing to cope.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #maladaptive daydreaming

[jaylleoo14]

Its not the spooky season anymore 😔 But I dont need it as an excuse to write it!

TW// Dark/gory/horror themes up ahead so tread carefully

I've been thinking, imagine what the characters would be like as serial killers. Who would be a best fit for one? And honestly, I feel like I'm able to write all of them as possible ones, well except for Ortho. Okay and maybe for Silver too but everyone else I think I can make do with it. I think.... I feel like characters that are obvious to fit the role is already generic such as Jade or Leona or Malleus! So i wanted to get more creative and try to expand more on the other characters. It would be fun to write about them though but I want someone who I think would fit the role just as nicely. Riddle and Trey was also a close one but I just really thought there could be someone more fitting. And what better character than to do the secretive man himself, Cater! I love Cater! And the potential he has a killer! Huihuihuihiuhihi Its making me shiver just thinking about it (with excitement) Perhaps I'll make the narrative as if you are looking through his eyes. That would be a fun read, no? Well I'll definitely switch the narrative to you and him but its a fun thought!

One day your boring, depressing, and mundane life gets interjected by Cater, the fun loving and bright barista! Some days you would always find yourself dreading as to why you should even continue. You live in a shitty area and your living situation is a mess, your neighbors are always partying, your boss is always picking on you, you're family situation is complicated, and all your friends seem to have moved on doing their own things in life. Life sucks, why do you have to go through this? You just want to go home already. Recently whenever you come by this super cute cafe this barista is always happily greeting you. "Another rough day?" He asked one day, and ever since that question you both have been making small talk whenever you would come by. He was easy to talk to, very friendly and bright. He was something you looked forward too during your days before and after work. One day when you go by the cafe you don't seem to see Cater around. Instead another worker rings you up instead. Out of curiosity you ask them where Cater was, and to none of their surprise that it was you who asked they simply answer with a "he called in sick." They recognize you as well considering you are a regular patron, one of the many other people who seem to enjoy Caters livelihood. Well you needed it in your life anyways. When you take a drive to your workplace you hear on the radio that two missing reports have been filed just last week, and to add on, just today they found a dead body belonging to one of the missing persons. They've been found brutally handled, the skin of their face peeled off and missing. What a grotesque and horrific way to go out.

A killer has been out on the loose in your city for who knows how long now. Though one thing is for certain, they've been going on for quite sometime now, all the victims going out in the same vindicative way. With their faces taken from them. This killer has been going on for quite some time now, but its just recently that they are starting to make another strike. For how long exactly? Who's to say. One thing for sure though is that you plan to save enough to finally move out of this godforsaken city, your awful apartment, and quit your damn job once you make enough. Despite all these killings going around, a lot of people seem to still go by their normal days just only hoping that they wont be the next unfortunate victim. "I hope Cater's alright" You say to yourself as you turn off the radio. The weather has been getting a lot colder lately, and it has been frequently raining. It would make sense that he'd get sick. Hearing about the reoccurring news causes you to let out a sigh, taking a mental note to be a bit more wary now.

You both don't really delve into each others personal life like that, so you can only hope for the best that he has someone to take care of. However on the way to work your light makes you stop and next to you is a deep alleyway. The day still being freshly new, the weather being a dewy light blueish grey after a slight rain, you dont care to look anywhere around you until a little glare hits your eyes on the side. Without much thought you turn around to see what the cause could be. Perhaps a shiny or passing car? Or perhaps it was just the reflection of someone's skateboard on the nearby sidewalk next to your car, or maybe it was- Oh.

. . . Oh

Your heart drops. You suddenly feel cold and goosebumps arise in you as you slowly flare up and your eyes widen with hyperactivity.

Someone is over there

In the alley way, next to you. Just slightly, are you able to make out a figure hidden under the shadows casted by the surrounding and clustered buildings.

Someone with a dark hoodie to blend in with the shadows, their back slightly angled towards you in the dark.

HONK

A car honks from behind you and you're woken from your trance. Just then though, the person in the alleyway slightly shoots their head towards where the sound of the honking originally came from quickly and for a split second your eyes meet. You hit the gas pedal, quickly speeding off with your heart racing as you pass the streetlight. Your cold clammy hands grips onto the steering wheel as you slightly speed off in a hurry and you bury yourself into your seat as the sound of your engine revs away down the dampened street.

They saw me...... I saw them...... they saw me

Was that? Did I see, the killer?

As he watches you speed off in your car he turns back to his finished business. The bloodied and lifeless corpse in front of him lying in a dirty puddle mixed with gravel and rain water from the earlier light rain. With his bloodied gloved hands, a dark shining glint glossing over it, he brings it to drag his mask down to inhale the dewy freshness of the air and out with a heavy breath.

"Ah, Cay-Cay should've been more careful huh?"

With no response he only laughs to himself a bit, nudging the lifeless corpse with his foot as if it were a ball.

"Oops. Forgot you've kicked the bucket now. Oh well, they didn't see me anyways. I shouldn't worry too much anyways."

"heh, who would've thought It would be (y/n) to see me down here... I guess I'll keep a close eye on them from now justttt in case."

Definitely will expand on this when I have the time and finish my other work, but oh how I cant wait to share! >< This is just a base and loose little draft for me to go off of but I was thinking of something like Cater placing pictures around the victims, pictures of perhaps locations to where he could have put their faces. But regardless, I think it'd be fun to write a really slow burn between you and Cater, a psychological horror experience :3

#jellorambles #twst #twisted wonderland #cater diamond #cater twst #cater x reader #people like yanderes right? #yandere cater diamond #twst x reader #serial killer au #My brain cannot seem to stop thinking about sk!Cater and >< #does anyone else like cater #this is pretty vile in all honesty but thats the point #I hope i can make this an immersive read for the intended audience #twst cater

[molotovgirl45]

Hiii! I have a TPN request for Emma and Ray (seperately).

Them x reader who is bubbly, childish, energetic, and kind gets shipped out and the next time they see them (reader was with Norman after they got shipped out), they were more reserved, soft-spoken, and mature.

Tysm and have a great day! P.S. Stay hydrated.

This genuinely sounds like something I would read, lol. I hope you enjoy, even though this isn't a total proof read. Just how i remembered. I did mainly just Ray, and im planning on making another version with Emma.This will be based off the manga, but I can make an anime version too. Here you go!

Tw: Violence, slight trauma, use of Y/n, slight angst at end.

Introduction Ray+Emma

After you got shipped out, you went to Lambda with Norman. That was definitely an eye opening moment for you, seeing all of the test subjects as you walked through the halls. You watched as they screamed, or tried to resist, but it was all futile. You watched as they morphed into horrific creatures, their wails echoing throughout the lab. That one moment, the energetic Y/n that everyone knew and loved faded. Throughout the months you spent alone in a small white box, your mind began to shape itself to your new environment. You never really knew what it was like to be injected with unknown treatments, or to be held down so they could test on you. That Era of your life left a mental scar, one that could probably never be healed.

Ray: Seeing you again.

"Long time, no see."

You smile softly at Emma and Ray as Norman stood by your side. Ray's facial expression went from stoic instantly it shock. Was this really you?

"... Y/n?"

Before you knew it, you felt something collide with you a little harshly. He had sprinted towards you, hugging you tight as if he would lose you again if he let you go for even a second. For the first time, Norman, Emma and you saw him cry. He was crying into your shoulder. That was... Unexpected. Half of you thought that he would act like he didn't care. You hug him back. Eventually, he spoke.

"Don't leave us like that again, Idiot."

You chuckled slightly.

"I missed you too, Ray."

Ray: Noticing your personality change

Back at the farm, you constantly would bug Ray, or try and play games with him. So when he asked you if you wanted to play a board game with him, and you didn't light up with that cute face you made when you were excited, he was confused.

"Hey, dumbass, do you want to play monopoly with Norman, Emma and me?"

You glanced up from the papers you were writing. You smile softly.

"Oh, I'm good, thanks."

... He blinked. Were they being serious?

"... What?"

You don't glance up this time, continuing to write some boring papers.

"I said I'm good, thank you, though."

Something was wrong. You *never* declined the opportunity to play a board game. Were they sad? Did he do something wrong that upset them? He frowned hard. Maybe they are just tired. He leaves, to go back to where Norman and Emma were.

A couple days after that, he walks by to see you... Reading? No, clearly something is wrong. You used to HATE books. You would only ever read them if Ray read them to you. He approached you, frowning again.

"What's wrong?"

Huh? You look up, a bit confused.

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong."

"Did we upset you?"

You get even more confused.

"No..?"

He takes the book from your hands, seeing what it even is that you're reading. ... Pride and Prejudice? Yeah, something is definitely wrong.

"I'm sorry you feel neglected enough to read this."

Your confused expression increases in strength.

"Ray, nothing is wrong. What are you even talking abou-"

"-Y/n, you don't read. You've never read before, unless I was reading it to you. And last week you said you didn't want to play monopoly. Clearly something is wrong. Have you been getting enough sleep?? Sleeplessness affects your energy and mood. Are you depressed or something? You know you can always talk to-"

"Ray!"

You yell, after a couple times he finally seemed to stop talking. You sigh, standing up from your seat.

"Ray, I'm fine. Truly. I just..."

You rub your temples.

"I just matured. Back at the farm, we were together. We all helped each other out, and that gave us all hope. But when you're alone, in an environment like the Lambda, you just... Change. I can't help the fact that I had to mature before I was supposed to. But I'm telling you, I'm fine."

He stares at you for a while, before nodding in understanding. He gives you your book back.

"Sorry for bothering you, then."

He leaves, before you could stop him. You sigh, looking down at your book. You really had changed.

#fluff #headcanon #ray tpn #ray x reader #reqs open #request #tpn ray #tpn #tpn emma #tpn norman #tpn manga #the promised neverland #ynn #self insert #reader insert

[yxstxrdrxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Detectives are supposed to be trusted, right? So why does it feel like the one with her felt so… Hollow?

TW/s: delusional thinking, yandere tendencies, unrequited love, toxic dynamic/s, Heizou is fucked up in the head, short term isolation, pre heikazu matchup, nsfw tws include horrific imagery, body horror, arson, mutilation(?). Please dni if you are uncomfortable.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy late Valentine’s Day, miss Phitre (@a-dose-of-phitre). It seems your date went well with Heizou, but I’m rather concerned with how you’re looking right now. Is it just me, or did you plan to go with someone else?

Heizou is regarded by a lot of people for his expertise and quick wits as a detective. That in and of itself is normal, considering how he seems to excel in those aspects. However, what they don’t seem to remember about him is that he’s a bit of a trickster to the people he found… Fun to be with.

Don’t get him wrong, he likes doing it all in harmless fun. He doesn’t enjoy taking things too far if he could really help it, and to him, he didn’t want to put his recent dates through the horrific things he can do. But for some of them, they like stepping a bit too far from those boundaries he set for their sake.

One such incident is actually days before that happened. He has always wanted to save the ones he loved the most for last, since he thought that it felt more fitting to savor the time with his beloved, Kazuha.

“Oho? It seems that my partner in crime is up bright and early! And here I thought I have to get you again,” he told the woman as they met up by the park, grinning madly upon seeing her try to catch her breath. “Oh dear, relax, breathe. I’m not going to leave you behind, Febronia.”

His date, though, huffed. Catching her breath, the woman turned her head to face the cheeky detective, hitting his arm in return.

“Yeah, but not when you decided that we’d meet this far from our usual spot!”

The latter laughed once again. Oh, he knew what he did wasn’t right, but can you blame him? He wanted to play a little joke on her, and their destination would take ages if they met up in their regular area to walk there.

He’d have to blame Sara for that. She had told him he couldn’t use his motorcycle due to too many joyrides, and to add insult to injury, she confiscated it back at the agency! He couldn’t even show his face to her when it happened, and even Kazuha has told him that it was only inevitable.

The horrors, he says! All because she didn’t know how to have a sliver of fun… What a tragedy indeed.

“Well, you’d have to thank Sara for keeping my ride from me. She’s the one who told me to quit it, saying that I was only doing it for my leisure. The audacity of her to assume that I'm not even doing my job, too!”

Febronia rolled her eyes, hitting his shoulder with a scoff. It was obvious that he was simply being a drama queen, which isn't foreign to the two of them.

… Although, maybe it should have. After all, Heizou isn't always the one to act such a way, right?

“Anyways, why don't we go and see what you want to show me? If we spend too much time here, we're bound to miss whatever appointment we have for the trip.”

“Haha, right you are, my partner. Right this way!”

Arriving to their location, Febronia could tell that he has a preference with his choice of escape rooms. As a detective, he must be so keen and excited to be able to go through them, since he solves cases faster than a person can think.

Still… she did wonder if he remembered that she couldn't solve it, or to actually inform her that their venue would be so extravagant.

“Heizou, did you forget to tell me that this place would have a theme with masquerade?”

“Ah, I didn't,” he answered truthfully, snapping his fingers with a smile on his face. “Actually, I wanted to keep this as a surprise for you! After all, I've always thought about visiting a venue such as this, and we also have the appropriate attire before we head inside.”

Really now? She found it hard to believe. After all, this is the same man that knowingly hid this information from her, deeming that it isn't important. What a bother.

Still, by the sparkle in his eye, she found it hard to tell him no. It would simply be far too rude for her to turn him down when they're already at their destination.

“Okay, okay, fair enough,” Febronia answered, sighing. “I do hope you have the right outfit for us, mister detective. If you forgot about that, I'd seriously question if you want us to be shamed in there.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, patting her head with a cheeky grin. “It won't be that bad! All you need to do is just relax and have fun. After all, the outfits we'll get won't be too restricting… or even too eye-catching. I'd rather not have people stop us.”

Stop us?

“What do you mean by—”

“Anyways, here they are! Come, Watson!”

Heading inside, the masked guards simply nodded and stared at the dumbfounded date, this time out of confusion. He just cut her off, like he didn't want to hear her ask.

… What a strange predicament. She felt like something was up with him.

“Partner! Aren't you coming?”

Her eyes flitted over to the waiting Heizou, and she ran towards the entrance, ignoring the sorry looks of the masked men that followed the detective.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” she apologized to Heizou, but he simply shook his head. Holding her hand, he smiled and spoke, “It's alright. Anyway, let me lead the way.”

Walking down the empty halls, her eyes trailed down to their hands. Although hers were warm, Heizou’s felt… cold. Like there was no semblance of body heat coming out of them, or maybe he's not as warm there than other parts of his body.

Still, it made her worried. He doesn't talk much about himself, and this set of one of the many alarm bells in her head.

However, she kept quiet. She didn't want to make this awkward as is.

Arriving at the dressing room, he let her in first before he followed inside. Closing the door behind him, they were greeted with the multiple closets and drawers of clothes of all kinds: dresses, suits, gowns, and even others that aren't tied to the masquerade theme.

She reached over to one of the clothes, eyeing it then putting it on her body. It looked a bit short, so she dropped it.

“I'll go ahead and change in the bathroom,” he told her, opening the door to her left. “Just knock if you're done, okay, Watson?”

“Alright. It'll take a while before I can get dressed, so I hope you're fine with waiting.”

“Haha, I won't!”

…

It was only when he left that she turned her attention to the dresses, eyeing each and every one of them. Some were too gaudy, too revealing, and a few were just… nonsensical.

Sifting through each and every article of cloth she was given, Febronia’s brows furrowed in confusion. There were far too few that fit her taste, and it felt like she would be stuck there forever if she couldn't find something that fits her.

Then, she stops as she stares at the dress that fits her style well.

Granted, it was a pale white dress, the beading and accessories were that of crystals and golden leaves. There were even feathers that are on it, and combined with the heels and how it was tailored, it covered her enough that she could breathe but have the right places shown.

It was also not a form fitting dress, so she was relieved. The weirdest thing, though, is the veil of the mask that came with it. It was almost as though it wanted to cover her face.

Taking the dress and its mask, she looked down at the others and shrugged, turning around to put it on. The dress smelled nice, like it was freshly doused in mild perfume and washed as well.

Come to think of it, it looked cleaner than the ones she had to check. It's almost like it had been deliberately picked and hidden so she could find it.

What a strange coincidence. She felt like something isn't going so well because of how fortunate the tides have gone in her favor. Alas, it may just be a simple fluke or something of the sort.

As she discarded her original attire and put it on, she felt the weight of heaviness prior leave as it was on her body. And she was right—it fit her like a glove, and it complimented her body well. Though, looking at the colors, she's reminded of what a dove would look with it's pearly white condition.

God, I hope I don't stain this. It probably costs a fortune to even clean the slightest bit of stain here, too.

Walking to the door with her new get up and the heels that came with it (she swore she'd fall, so she needed to take her time walking in them), she knocked on the door.

Knock, knock.

“Heizou? I'm done changing! Are you done yet?”

… Nothing.

She knocked again.

Knock, knock.

“Heizou? Come on, this isn't funny.”

No response. The lights are flickering, but she paid no heed. She needed to see what was going on.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

“Hey! Answer me, Heizou!”

This time, she turned the knob of the door, and was surprised that it wasn't even locked. No, she could open it.

What the hell?

Pushing the door, she rushed inside, catching a whiff of metallic and soot. Coughing, she swiped her hand so she could see and breathe clearly, and her eyes simply widened at the sight before her.

Heizou wasn't inside, but the room was up in flames. Some of the items were already burnt down, and the flames were reaching to the walls and on the door.

Stumbling out, she dashed to the exit and found that it was jammed. Febronia could only panic as the flames got out and entered the room she was inside.

“Heizou?! Heizou?!”

Slamming the door, she began to try and find something to use. Grabbing the chair, she began to slam it repeatedly, but to no avail.

Tossing it to the fire, it traveled to the clothes she discarded and it began to melt, letting the terrible stench of plastic greet her and make her wheeze. Some even traveled to where she was, touching the glass heels and plastic dress she wore.

Then, the flames got to her skin.

The pain of being burned alive was making her scream. She tried to put it down, but it went further up, making her let out cries. Some descended from below to her head, setting her hair up on fire.

The flames and plastic got to her form, to which she was only greeted with the feeling of pure and utter agony.

It hurts to be burnt alive. It was a fate she wouldn't want anyone to have, as her skin was becoming nothing but charred. And God, did it hurt. It was even worse with the plastic melting in her.

Her eyes began to bulge as she heaved, crumbling onto the ground. She needed to breathe fresh air, but all she could even get was smoke that filled her lungs.

What ripped from her throat was screams of anguish and rage, blaming the one that led her there— the damned detective, who left her for dead.

… Which was funny, for even she can't blame him. After all, had she paid attention, she would've found out the truth of the detective she's with.

Several investigators came to the scene after the locals have brought up the concern of hearing screams late at night. It had been days after the incident that led to the manor burning, and they wanted to see what was left behind.

An anonymous tipper has left them something vital to investigate, especially for the disappearance of Phitre, a lady who was last seen being with “Heizou”.

When they got to the scene of the crime, one of them leaned over to the burnt plastic that was made to be dresses and cringed at the stench. Some were not even taken care of, and it was almost like it had been taken decades ago.

However, what caught their eye was the mask laid next to a charred, disfigured and melted body. It smelled the same as it had been prior, and even when the dress melted into the skin of the victim, the mask remained pristine.

The only difference, though, are two pairs of jeweled eyes that stared right back at them, like the corpse still looked at them with disdain in their soul.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

#💌 ;; message delivery #💌 ;; from: shikanoin heizou #💌 ;; to: sleepy anon #💌 ;; promising letter: one last call #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere gi #genshin impact #genshin #gi #yandere #yandere writing #yandere text #male yandere #shikanoin heizou #genshin impact shikanoin heizou #genshin heizou #yandere shikanoin heizou #yandere heizou #genshin impact heizou #genshin shikanoin heizou

[wcyback]

olivia holt, homosexual, demigirl + she/they ― hey look, it’s sookie st. james ! they’re twenty-one years old, they’ve lived in shrike heights for their whole life, and they’re currently working at key of reason in shrike mall. i heard they’re pretty discontented, but i think they’re so comedic at the same time. can they make it out alive?

STATS / PINTEREST.

hellohello!! i'm kuromi, 21, she/her, and in cst! ive been eyeing this group for a while and was excited to finally get around to joining it!!

wcs will be listed below !

tw: psychosis mention

born and bred in shrike heights, susanna ‘sookie’ st. james learned from a young age not to feel fear the way most others did. the horrific and terrifying were very real for her, and if she wanted to remain close to family ( as the introvert she was, and remains as ) she needed to get used to the fact that fucked up shit happened. regularly. so regularly that even the local police seemed disillusioned by the time she reached high school age, which is when things began to take a steady curve off the right path for her.

a straight a student and shoe-in for valedictorian, suffering from a psychotic break their senior year set her back in her studies and made it so they needed to take summer courses in order to graduate, being given a diagnosis of manic depression and a script of antipsychotics with antidepressants to combat the illness. while passing the time adjusting to her meds, they learned they had an affinity for music, as they could barely be separated from their walkman if they could help it, finding it provided them a great comfort whereas school had only been a stressor.

she still applied for college, knowing deep down that she was meant to chase the stars and everything else in the universe. as long as she kept her head on straight and didn’t let her studies consume her, she was relatively safe within her own mind. school and music had absorbed her whole life, up until she embarked on a family vacation two years into her degree and met a girl in mexico.

their romance was a whirlwind; something sookie wasn’t even certain was real whenever they returned home — which made finding out the same girl had followed them back to shrike all the more daunting. they've mainly stuck to focusing on studying and their new job at key of reason, a place they love as they're able to explore their hobby more in depth without inquiry from their family. as long as they're bringing in money to pay for they car insurance and gas, their parents couldn’t care less.

CONNECTION IDEAS:

older siblings best friends. ride or die. childhood friends. drunk/stoner friends. secret friends/relationship. wing(wo)men. anything we can think of !

#shrikeintro

[deltakv]

Can You Hear The Static?

Part ??: Grief

TW: Gore

You open your eyes. And a neighborhood  is what greets you. The surrounding dense fog and soft rain makes it difficult to see, but you can distinguish houses, lawns and a single street covered by snow, lights coming from the windows, the fences dividing the simple looking place. 

The complete darkness above the roofs and you. 

It’s… different from before. A bad type of different. You can hear various voices coming from all of the houses, young and old, excited and bored, feminine and masculine, speaking amongst themselves. And yet. Every time you try to look inside, in the rooms where the voices are supposed to be.

You can see nothing. No furniture. No doors.

Nobody.

Where's everyone?

A sound breaks you out of your thoughts. Crying, you realize, coming from the last house, at the end of the street.

The only house with no light. Only darkness and snow surrounding it. You slowly approach as the sorrowful sobbing becomes more and more clear. You hear something else as well.

“I'm sorry,” it sobbed, its voice shaky and raw, like it had been crying for hours and hours to no end. “I am so, so sorry,” it cried.

You take a peek out of the window. Expecting nothing inside. Only to see a figure, sitting in a rocking chair by the corner of an empty, dark room. A mannequin, it seemed, dressed in black, torn dress, detailed from top to bottom with large white spots ruining it's monochromatic elegance. The voice kept crying. You squint, attempting to see beyond the darkness. You freeze, eyes widening in realization. 

It had a face.

"I can't look at you," it hiccups, crimson flowing from its eye sockets, empty eye sockets, like a never ending waterfall. pulsating at every sob and flinch, like a still beating heart in a silver platter, for all to see. it's horrific, but you're unable to look away, out of morbid fascination, or maybe, because you felt it watching you back. The warm scarlet stains its dress even more, an ever-growing mark of anguish and pathetic regret.

“I can't look at you. I'm so sorry,” it repeats over and over, like a broken record.

“How could I let this happen?”

#writing #im not sure if it counts #but just to be sure #vent #mild vent #dreamcore #Mild gore #weirdcore #inconsistent #without context its not really a vent #so don't worry about it #only about the gore part #not me editing this every time cause i'm unsatisfied

[novasdarling]

Can I request a Yan feitan with a fem reader who’s broken in but in a way that pleases feitan. So for example when he wants to have sex she ready and willing opening her legs gets turned on when he’s being violent weather it towards her during sex or towards his victims that he tortures. Plays the role of perfect innocent housewife while being a complete whore for Feitan who might also allow the reader to watch him torture his victims. I love your writing of feitan it gives me goosebumps in a fun horrific Way. I know it might be an odd compliment but I still love you.

I'm so happy you like my writing of him! Also I did more like the reader is aware of this change of behaviour, but makes no move to stop it.

Be Perfect

TW: Mentions of Past Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, Female Reader, Smut(Oral), Dubcon.

While things had stayed the same since you got here, they had also changed. Feitan was still cruel, both towards you and others. Though less so towards you occasionally. It was you that had fully changed. Feitan had been constant. Strict, authoritative, cruel, he was a walking nightmare. That aspect of him never faltered. There was always the idea of a threat lingering behind his words. But no, now you saw he may be cruel, but he did know some form of tenderness. After all, you learned the hard way after all this time. If he said jump, you asked how high? That was the way he liked it and the way that kept you intact.

“Dinner.”

He was home after his latest mission. Rushing towards him, seeing the bag he had in his hand. Bringing dinner home was not typical with him, then again, he only let you hold knives when he was around to supervise. Meaning you couldn't cook until he got home.

“Here.”

Feitan handed you the bag of food, expecting you to set everything up. You kissed him as a welcome home. Taking the bag and headed towards the kitchen. Setting the containers on the counter. Splitting everything onto two plates. Putting what he liked on his, and what you liked on yours. You two ate in peace, occasionally asking him how was work. A courtesy, he never told you much about his work unless he wanted to scare you. Today, he kept the details minimum. Meaning you had been good. Only letting you know his target is dead and suffered. You always strive to get him like this, get him to show you some ounce of pity. You two had come a long way since the beginning, well you had come a long way. According to him, you were finally trained.

You waited until he was done with dinner and took his plate. Cleaning up while he watched. His eyes were always on you, analyzing your every move. Feitan was never much of a talker unless giving directions or orders. Feitan was a man that let his actions talk for him.

“Done?”

You nodded at him, putting the last dish away.

“Bed.”

Once again, you just did what he said. There was no use in fighting him. You had learned your lesson nice and clear after all this time. Getting up, you made your way to the bedroom, Feitan quick behind you. Laying yourself on the bed, you tried to relax. It was easier when you relaxed your body. He also seemed to like it more when you were like this. He became almost gentle, like a different Feitan. He looked down at you on the bed, staring at you while you shed your shirt. Then your pants, bra and underwear. Sitting on the bed completely naked. Looking at him, waiting for some more orders. It felt odd to be bare while he was fully dressed.

When he first took you months ago, you were a tough one. Or rather you thought you were. Compared to him, you were always this scared little thing. Something that needed to be tamed. You kicked, screamed, cursed at him. Did everything to get away from him, even attempting to run away. Feitan was tired of it. In the beginning, it was fun to watch you fight, to watch you get excited over having your freedom so close only to have him rip it away. But then you didn’t relent and seemed to be unable to learn a lesson in this manner. So, he became stricter. Set rules and standards, and if you broke them. Then you would truly understand pain and fear. Eventually, you stopped. You listened, obeyed, and did whatever he wanted. A few times Feitan had managed to drag you to the basement where occasionally he brought work home. He would sit you in the corner and make you watch. All you did was sit quietly and curl up. Not leaving and not making any noise to distract him. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it was a long way from him tying you to the chair to watch. Even dragging the chair to be right beside the table. Forced to have your face right by the victims. Eventually, you learned to keep quiet and he’ll show pity on you.

Feitan watched you with prying eyes as you sat on the bed naked. Waiting for any more orders from him. He was busy admiring how far you came, while you were a bit worried at his lack of action. The tension was growing on your end. The anticipation of waiting for him to speak, or do anything. But, he didn’t. He only stared at you. The anxiety of waiting was getting to you. Why couldn’t he just tell you what to do? It was like he was getting off on watching you squirm around and blush when you looked up at him. Knowing Feitan, he was.

You finally had enough. Looking up at him one more time, deciding that you should make the move. Undoing his pants slowly, still unsure if this was the right move. He made no move to stop you once his pants were undone. You realized this was what he wanted. Pulling his pants slightly down, along with his boxers. His dick sprang free. He was already hard, you were right. Slowly you began to stroke him. Moving your hand gently and slowly. Looking up at him only to meet his dead eyes. You still couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself after all this time. It wasn’t until his hand came to rest on your head that you knew you made the right move.

Soon your lips met with his tip. Placing a gentle kiss on it, before taking it in your mouth. Starting off slow. His hand on your head began to grab at your hair. Slowly beginning to push your head down. It wasn’t too difficult to take him fully. He was of average length, but what got you was his girth. That made things harder. Trying your best as he continued to push you down, relaxing your throat so you could.

“That’s it.”

It was simple, but Feitan was never a man of many words. He was trying to tell you to continue. To keep going because he was close. You were trying to stay as far down as you could while your tongue glided around his dick. Your attempts to get up to breathe were stopped. His hand kept you there while he began to thrust into your throat. He was getting close. Taking his release into his own hands now. Fucking into your face. It was hard to take, it hurt, but it would be over soon. At least this part was.

“Fuck.”

Feitan gave one last thrust before pushing your face all the way down. Keeping you there while he finished. His cum falling down your throat. It was bitter and salty. Once he released you, you tried to swallow it down. Knowing he expected you to swallow every last bit he gave you. Wiping your mouth, looking up at him and smiling. As if you needed to prove you liked this, liked what he just did. In some manner, you did like it a lot more than how cruel he could be. Liked him being sweet and gentle with you.

“Good girl.”

Feitan beamed down at you, using his thumb to wipe a bit pooling at the corner of your mouth. He looked at you like you were a meal to devour. While you looked at him like he was a vengeful god and you were the sacrificial offering.

#yandere #reader insert #yandere feitan x reader #hxh feitan #feitan hxh #feitan x reader #yandere hxh x reader #hxh x reader #yandere x reader #hxh #feitan hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #nova writes #yandere feitan

[mistresseast]

tw// animal death

Everything is upside down. A week ago today, I lost a member of my family. Not only did I lose him, but I had to watch him suffer a horrific injury and spend his last few hours confused and in pain.

It's not fair. My sweet, sweet boy. You deserved so much better. You deserved many more happy years of barking at every noise and throwing your toys around and jabbing your pointy little feet into my back at night. You deserved better than what I gave you. I'm so, so sorry. I'd give anything to go back. I'd stick my own hand through that fence if it would have saved you from having to go through that. Your absence is a hole in every part of my life. I keep listening for your quick little taps on the hardwood and your piercing, excited whining when someone's at the door. When I kneel down to pet the other animals, I brace myself to feel you shoving your way in front, smiling and wagging your backwards tail. I look down at your dog bed and I don't see you and everything just feels so wrong and so awful. I'd gladly take all of your frustrating habits if it meant I could still lean over and kiss the little heart on your forehead. I'm so scared that I didn't show you enough love while you were here, or that you died thinking I had hurt you. I loved you so, so much, and I should have protected you better. I shouldn't have let this happen. I'm so grateful for the time I got to spend with you but it wasn't enough and I miss you so much. I'll miss you for the rest of my life. It's times like this that I wish I believed in an afterlife because the idea that I'll never get to see you again is almost too much to bear. If I could, I'd create a heaven just for you, baby boy. No dog has ever deserved it more.

I'm a different person after what happened. My heart is broken. Nothing will ever be the same. I love you, Pocket. I love you. I love you. I love you.

#sorry to bring my personal life up especially when it's so grim #but i needed to do something i feel so empty inside #ive been crying constantly all week #now that the trauma of the event is wearing off the reality is hitting me and its so awful #tw animal death #he was my sweet angel and i dont know how im going to cope with the horrible thing that happened to him

[amurder-ofcrows]

Heyy can you tell us more about the books you read this January? Like which ones you liked, or if you found something that made you emotional, or you started to know a new author, or whatever you want! I'm always curious about what other people read

Hi!!! i’m always happy to talk about books!

The first book I read was The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, funny enough i picked it up at the bookstore and didn’t realize it’s actually the second book in the vampire chronicles (they didn’t have the first, Interview With The Vampire…) but I read it anyway and it didn’t spoil anything for the first book, which I ordered online and will read soon. I gave the book a 4 star rating, mostly because i’m A Slut for gay vampires and the 18th and 19th centuries

Then i read In The Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. Definitely a big trigger warning for domestic abuse, gaslighting, physical abuse, that’s the main focus of the book. It’s actually about a wlw relationship and explores the nuances of abuse in queer relationships. It’s a set of short chapters that all connect to the bigger story and all of them are set as “the dream house as ___” and the blank is always a horror movie trope or movie itself. Definitely a good read, but it is intense and I wouldn’t go into it lightly. I gave it 4 stars.

The next book I read was the only 5 star I gave this month, and that was Electric Idol by Katee Robert. this is a sequel to the book Neon Gods, which is an erotic retelling of Hades and Persephone. Electric Idol follows Eros and Psyche and is also an erotica. I won’t go into the story too much because it is a sequel and I would have to spoil the events of the first book to tell you about this one. But it’s sexy, there’s a fake marriage, sister dynamics, and an assassination plot. The first book is much more kinky than this one, the sex scenes in this one are more … vanilla? i guess, it’s still really hot but it’s not as intense as the first book. There’s a third book coming out later this year, Wicked Beauty, which follows Achilles, Patroclus, and Helen so i’m really excited.

Then I read 3 books by the same author: Grady Hendrix. I first read The Final Girl Support Group, which is about a group of “final girls” (the last survivor in a horror movie) and they’re all getting attacked/killed off one by one. even tho it’s a horror book, i didn’t find it too horrific and i would put it more in the thriller category. i definitely didn’t see the twist at the end, this book makes you think you know what’s going on and then doubt yourself like three times until you finally get a reveal. I gave it a 3 star.

The next Grady Hendrix book I read was The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires. This one is definitely more horror than the last one. It follows a ladies book club in the 90s that reads only true crime and horror novels as they begin to realize that a neighbor might be responsible for killing children in a neighboring part of town, and that this neighbor might be a vampire. I liked this one a lot, and you will HATE the women’s husbands when you get to the halfway point and after. like it’s not technically gaslighting, but it’s definitely abusive and manipulative. There’s also a very good discussion about class, race, and gender roles, especially the idea of what the perfect housewife should be. Tw for attempted suicide, gore, and emotional manipulation. 4 stars.

The final Grady Hendrix book I read was My Best Friend’s Exorcism. This is 80s camp mixed with a demonic possession. Tbh i don’t have to explain much because the title really says it all. Not my favorite but not bad, and definitely has some spooky scenes. 3 stars. I plan on reading Grady Hendrix’s book Hörrorstör which is a horror book set in IKEA which just sounds so fun.

Moving on from Grady Hendrix, I read To The Bone by Christina Henry. It was pitched to me as Hozier’s song In The Woods Somewhere as a book, and honestly? yeah pretty much. It’s got the monster in the woods who you can hear screaming and coming across dead animals and caves with bones in them and trying to escape. it does have a LOT of body horror and an abusive pedophilic relationship and a murder committed by a human against another human, so if that’s a trigger, i wouldn’t read this book because it’s very in depth in its descriptions. very tense and gore-y, gives a sense of dread to the reader. 3 stars.

Then I read my least favorite book of the month: NOS4A2. I was hoping for more vampires in this book, but alas it was not meant to be. It’s actually about a serial killer who can access a different reality to put his victims in, and a girl who can access this reality by crossing a specific bridge. The title comes from the fact that the car the killer uses has that as a license plate. It’s almost 700 pages and i didn’t not like it. there were some good scenes, so it wasn’t a one star, but it still only barely made a 2.

Finally, I read Tender Is The Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica. This is a translated work, originally written in Spanish. This is not a book to be taken lightly. It’s set in a world where all animal meat has a disease that makes it poisonous to humans, so people have started eating and breeding humans. The descriptions in this book are gruesome. it doesn’t hold back on the body horror and does so in an almost clinical way. There’s also talk of miscarriages and death of an infant that does matter to the plot. Absolutely horrific and the final scene is just *shudders*. 3 stars.

The book I’m working on now is A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay. It’s a book about a possession that asks the question what is schizophrenia and what is a possession and how do you tell the difference. I’m about 70 pages in and I’m hoping to finish it tonight. I’ll update this post with my star ranking if I do, but if i don’t, i’ll add it to my wrap up for February.

If you want to see more of my bookish opinions, i have a bookstagram @/ryanandhisbooks and a booktok @/wastelandryan!

#long post #- r #books #horror books #wrap up #grady hendrix

[the-writers-bookshelf]

It's Friday and thankfully I remembered before bed.

My wip is unconventional in that the "plot" is just character development. That's all I care about with books and it was all I wanted to write. Brief TW for those who decide to read: this wip deals with a lot of mental health issues, bigotry, and talks about sex and asexuality (there's a more graphic *warning that applies which I will tag before said character's paragraph). While I won't be going into detail I feel y'all deserve to be warned.

The story features three main characters:

Alvere Duval, an autistic gay ace man of colour who was stuck with crappy parents until he hit 19, at which point he ran away with his best friend to bunk with his boyfriend. Alvere's main arch (to put it very simply) is about him learning to love and accept himself despite all the horrific shit his parents and peers said about him. He deals with self-hatred, internalized ableism, homophobia, and acephobia, pretty nasty C-PTSD and anxiety, I could go on but we'd be here all day (this poor man). His secondary arch revolves around his desire to build a shelter for LGBTA+ youths who are homeless or stuck with crappy parents like he was. My favorite thing about writing for him is the confrontation scene he has with his mother near the end of the book. In many ways he was close to her and loved her to death, but his best friend and boyfriend could see how casually dismissive she was towards his ability to form his own opinions and knew she was complacent in the horrible way his father treated him. Part of him knows that too, but he's terrified of losing the idealized version of her he has in his head bc it's one of the only good memories from his childhood. Yes I cry every time I think about it and love projecting onto my own characters why do you ask?

Next up is Jack Felicity, a mute non-binary aroace indigenous person, and Alvere's best friend. Their main arch is about them processing the damage theirs and Alvere's early friendship did to them, as it was extremely co-dependent and drained them of any and all personality they once had. Add ADHD and depression to that mix, and about half way through the book they realize they literally have no idea who they are outside of "Alvere's Friend" and have to rebuild themself with the support of their mom, their new friends, and Alvere himself now that they've started working through their dependency issues. Their secondary arch revolves around them learning that sometimes second chances are worth the risk of betrayal, and that losing a friend is hard but it's not the end of the world, and it doesn't mean they failed. My favorite scene I've written with them is when they reconcile with their mom who, while not nearly as bad as Al's, still made some mistakes in the past. I love it bc she acknowledges that she was wrong and apologizes to Jack for being insensitive in regards to their depression. If only more parents did that.

Lastly we have Carlo, a bi gnc trans man, and Alvere's boyfriend. (*TW for mentioned substance abuse, underage sex work & grooming. "Easy to digest" I said. "For fun" I said. I'll italicize the sentences so you can skip em). Carlo's main arch revolves around him learning to respect people with different boundaries. He was exploited and groomed into sex work at the age of 16 and though he's since escaped his abusers, he never got to process his trauma authentically before he and Al got together. Whereas Carlo's a touchy guy and doesn't really have a concept of personal space (since he wasn't allowed to if he wanted to have enough money to eat), he doesn't really get Al's touch aversion or Jack's trust issues and ends up making an ass of himself on multiple occasions. He always does his best to make up for it though, since he knows damn well how awful it feels to have one's boundaries invaded like that, and knows that just because he doesn't understand them doesn't mean they aren't valid. His secondary arch is about his reliance on substances (cigarettes and alcohol) to numb the pain of his past. With the help of his loved ones and a slap in the face courtesy of his own inebriated behavior, he starts taking steps to recover. My favorite thing about writing for him is how he reacts to Al's asexuality. Despite being hypersexual in the beginning (bc trauma) and still enjoying it as the book goes on, he's very supportive of Al and makes several points of letting him know he never has to give him anything he's not ready for, which culminates in one long chapter of Al getting the mushy gushy date he deserves bc fuck acephobes.

This project started off as individual vignettes to get me back into writing and evolved into a slice of life story about these three growing up and falling in love (platonically and romantically) with each other. There's a lot more to it that I didn't cover bc I don't wanna give everything away, but I have like no one to talk to about this and my first draft is almost done and I'm excited so. I hope you enjoyed my ramblings.

Hi lovely! Your WIP is AMAZING and I love it!! I decided to copy/paste it into a post (and tagged you in it!) so I could put the more sensitive topics under a cut. But PLEASE don't feel like I'm sensoring you because that is not my intention at all! It's just a precaution ♥

Your work is REALLY important! Especially when it comes to asexuality! I'm on the ace spectrum myself and there is absolutely a HUGE need for writing like yours in this world, spreading awareness and making it NORMAL! Thank you so much for your wonderful writing! :)