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etherati · 8 months

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Taproot - (1/25)

To celebrate finally finishing this monster of a fic after 4 goddamned years, I'm going to be posting the full chapters here on Tumblr, serialized like in the olden days, to make it easier to digest a bit at a time. Expect an installment once a week. This is a sequel to Wellspring, and is a post-S2 AU with, at this point, established Trephacard--plus some historical flashbacks, family drama, bloody showdowns, and a lot of secrets waiting in the wings. And feels. All the feels. If you like those things--or, for reasons I cannot disclose at this time, dear old Leon Belmont--consider giving this one a spin.

Summary from Ao3:

Taproot (n): The oldest, most central root; that from which all else arises.

Every family has its roots, diving down into the shadowy, secretive earth--and there's no such thing as a bloodless inheritance.

🎵 Music pairing: The Old Ways - Loreena McKennitt

Next -- >

Sunrise over the Black Sea—golden light spilling into the water like its own sort of glowing, glittering liquid, diffusing through the brine and illuminating it in hues of orange and amber and violet-pink—is one of the most beautiful sights the natural world has to offer. There are other striking sunrises to be had, and other bodies of water prone to making a person feel overwhelmingly small, but nowhere else do the two combine into such a spectacle, delighting the eyes even as it harrows the soul.

At least, nowhere else that Sypha has been, and she has been a lot of places.

She twists the end of her walking stick into the damp sand and gravel. This means that she’s close; she can tell by the particular mineral-laden smell of the salt and the angle of the light that she’s still a bit north of Enisala, but not by very far. There’s no shame in having arrived at the sea slightly off from her target. The only truly accurate navigation is by the stars—and the lingering presence of the night creatures and the winter’s bitter chill have had her travelling mostly with the sun.

Overhead, the keening cries of shorebirds as they dip and weave, coming in low to gather at the waterline, to pick over the tide pools and sandbars. The breakers beat the rocky shore, relentless. There’s a stark beauty to the place, to the way life struggles forward despite its days being filled only with further struggle. Tenacity. Tenacity, she understands, and all the spoils it brings.

This would be a lovely place to bring Adrian and Trevor to, she thinks; let them see this dawn, let the three of them roughhouse in the waves and drink sweet fruit wine in the sun and make love in the cool, damp sand once twilight settles in, all softness and blue-black shadows and the murmur of the tide. When the weather is warmer. When the sea is greener than it is grey, and the wind coming off of it doesn’t threaten to peel the skin from her face and hands. When they feel safe, leaving the castle unguarded for a while.

That time is, with certainty, not yet now. But she’s working on it. She’s still not gotten used to travelling alone, honestly hopes she won’t ever have to, but sometimes needs must. And that’s the entire point of this, of having to be away from them for so long.

She misses them—misses her family, too, but that’s an old ache that she’s grown accustomed to. Missing Adrian and Trevor is a different kind of hurt, sharp and fresh, made worse by knowing how badly they’re missing her in return. When she was growing up, travelling constantly on journeys measured in seasons, a month had felt like nothing. Now, it feels like an eternity.

There’s no snow and ice out here, this close to the water; there never is, in her experience, until you get to the deep, deep north. The sand is wet and the coarse stone crushed into it grinds under her staff. It’s blunt and thick, as writing implements go, and there’s no way to get any detail—and anyway, she’s no artist.

She still leaves a chunky, lopsided heart in the sand, as if marking the spot to return to later—as if the waves won’t wash it away mere hours after she’s left this place.

The sun is high overhead by the time the crumbling stone fortress of Enisala comes into view on the horizon. It feels wonderful, even if winter sun never warms one through the same way summer sun does; she drops her hood to bask in it, shifting her pack on her shoulders.

The ruins themselves are all beige-grey rock, the sky even more devoid of color, stormy and brooding. As she gets closer, though, she can see little pops of color all around the perimeter of the old fortress—blanket-draped caravans, colorful paper lanterns, artifacts of every culture the trains have come into contact with over the past year. Anything to make the space lively.

This place has always felt oddly significant to her—with its ruins that no one will claim ownership over, that seem to belong only to themselves, like slumbering giants from the birth of the world. Really, anywhere on the eastern edge of a landmass would do, for the Speakers’ winter solstice celebrations. But this is where her family group has always come, and so she knows she will find them here. For a week on either side of the solstice, many trains gather here in the sprawl of the mysterious ruins, and they eat and dance and share stories, all the stories of the year before, and Sypha knows she has a few that will make even the elders jealous.

She smiles to herself, framing the narrative in her head as she sets off down the narrow, meandering path to the gathering below.

“Sypha!” a familiar voice calls out, along with the clatter of scattered and dropped firewood; she’s barely made the edge of camp, is still lost in thought, but that voice would snap her out of just about anything.

“Kiri,” she oofs out, as the woman barrels into her, catching her up in a crushing embrace that’s more robes than anything else—layers and layers of them, to keep out the damp chill. Sypha hugs back just as hard; she’d been expecting her family and the others, the ones she’d watched leave Greşit all those months ago and then had to say farewell to again late in the spring. She hadn’t been expecting Kiri, Kiri who knows all her secrets and remembers what she looked like when she was young enough to go about with her hair unshorn, who she spent more time with growing up than she did her own family—throwing rocks into rivers and climbing trees and playing rough games with the boys. Testing every limit, challenging every rule, pushing for every wild dream.

Kiri, who’d been away from their clan for at least three years now, off studying the healing arts with the Ottoman scholars in the east when their own collective knowledge had proved insufficient for her. Three years that now feel like nothing—and isn’t it odd, how the friends of childhood are so often forgotten when the demands of adult life catch up, but the body never forgets what it’s like to hold them?

“I’m so glad you made it,” Kiri says, her face buried in Sypha’s hair. “My first Solstice back with our people and you weren’t here! I was getting worried.”

“What, did you think I would miss it?” Sypha asks, faux indignation through her own laughter. “Never.”

“Well, I’ve been told that you have your hunter, now,” Kiri says, pulling away, a sudden swell of distance blooming between them. No wonder—too often, Speakers who marry outside the tribe never quite find their way back. She and Trevor hadn’t been that to each other the last time she’d seen her family, had just been circling ever closer without quite making contact, but fair assumptions could be, and often were, made. “And your sleeping soldier?”

“Mm, yes,” Sypha says; it’s been a long time since she’s thought of Adrian that way, though he’s never stopped fighting for them. “But this is important, being here. And seeing everyone again! How have your studies been?”

Kiri’s eyes flash with excitement, bright against the wind-bitten redness of her cheeks; her skittishness evaporates in an instant. “It is incredible, Sypha! The things they know, in the south—the things they’ve kept track of, that others have forgotten. There is a book one man there has written on how to repair a person as if they were a torn garment or a broken wagon. It’s remarkable.” Adrian probably has a copy of that, somewhere in his mother’s medical library—if not, she’ll have to remember to track one down. “I understand why we do not record our stories, but after three years there, I wonder if we are foolish to not record knowledge itself? Raw knowledge I mean, the kind that is hard to frame in the context of a story.”

My people are idiots, she remembers saying, during that

interminable stay in the Belmont hold; she’s usually more inclined to be generous, but there’d been an infectious kind of frustration and cynicism they’d all been fighting, after a certain point.

“I’ve wondered that, too,” she says now, far more diplomatic; the journey has done her outlook a lot of good. “About an entirely different body of knowledge! Not something that would be as useful as the medicine you’re learning, but yes—if having something written down can save a life, how can that be wrong?”

“Don’t let the elders hear you say that!” Kiri admonishes, laughing.

Sypha blows a dismissive breath through her nose. “I am sure they already think I’m a terrible member of our tribe, just for raising a hand against the enemies of humanity. I cannot imagine their opinion of me can get much worse.”

Kiri throws an arm over her shoulder, pulls her in. “It’s not that bad,” she says, trying to be encouraging, but there's a tension there. “Our Sypha, the warrior of Wallachia. But I always knew you were destined for something special.”

Sypha frowns in thought, takes a few steps in silence. Did you? She wants to ask, and she wants to ask, Why?

Destined. Destiny is too large an idea, is the sort of thing that hovers around other people, people with remarkable families, with mysterious pasts. Sypha is a magician like any other Speaker magician; her father was the same, and his mother before him, and there is nothing unusual about any of it. These things run in families, and magic users are common, and sure, she'd gotten herself sucked up into an epic story because of it, but it could as easily have been another.

Couldn't it have?

Would another scholar of magic have done just as good a job? Would another magician have melded into the team as well as she did, have communicated in battle so effortlessly, have picked up the slack the other two dropped and protected them when they needed it? Could just any magician have snatched Dracula’s castle out of the aether like it was a feather on the breeze?

Would another Speaker have tossed aside the principles of a lifetime to stand up and fight, or is there really something dark and burning in her that sets her aside?

If there is, is that a good thing or a bad thing? Is that even the question to be asking?

“...how does it feel, to fulfill a prophecy?” Kiri asks, as they start to make their way toward the rest of the camp. It’s clear from the suddenly uncomfortable undercurrent in her voice that she’s not talking about the whole killing Dracula part; that story, her family has already heard, and it’s surely made the rounds. No—she’s talking about the rest of the prophecy. The part that’d had Sypha so uneasy clambering down into the catacombs and so defensive when she awoke there in the face of a hunter; the part that she’d like to believe any random magician would not have been able to fulfill.

“Strangely?” Sypha says, pitching her voice low. “Like I did have a choice in the matter.”

“Truly? You did not feel fate’s hand pushing the issue?” A pause, a few scuffing steps in the snow. Then, carefully: “Or another hand entirely?”

And oh, Sypha understands why her old friend is concerned, understands all too well given the way the world has sometimes treated their people. How non-Speaker men have often regarded them—worldly and experienced and incapable of ever saying no, as if rejection of the church’s self-loathing, oppressive morality somehow made them into succubi. But the implication is so absurd in context that she still laughs, conspiratorial. “No. My God. I had to push them. I thought I was going to go crazy.”

A smile then, more genuine. The tension drains out of the arm across Sypha’s shoulders. “What kind of heroic warriors are they, if they’re not fighting for the hand of maiden fair?”

“In what world, I wonder, would I be considered a fair maiden?” Sypha asks, smiling despite herself. Her robes are ragged with wear, her hair recently chopped short again, her feet swathed in cloth bandages beneath her sandals to keep out the cold. Fair indeed. But she knows that society outside of their caravans frames the world in certain ways. “And they were fighting with me, not for me.”

“Still. Most would expect some sort of reward for saving the world—even if only from fate.”

Sypha shakes her head, remembering that sunrise through the castle doors, the way they’d all started drifting apart before she’d pulled them back together. Those first few hours of having no idea what to even do with themselves, in this tomorrow that they hadn’t expected to see. “We were all shocked to still be alive, in the end. I imagine that would be reward enough for anyone.”

Kiri looks to her feet, swallows. They walk in silence for a moment. It had, perhaps, been unfair to go into such dark territory—to invoke how close they’d all come to dying that night. But these are the stakes Sypha has gotten used to, the way she’s become accustomed to thinking of the world. Speakers don’t fight; they are always in danger from those who don’t understand them, but that is a danger that brings itself to one’s door. The memory of choosing to walk across an enemy’s threshold, certain she would not ever cross it again, is uniquely hers.

“If you met them,” she says, gently bringing the topic back around, “you would understand. They honestly are good men. They understand what trust and respect are.” And they have enough baggage to fill an entire wagon, between them both, but that’s not for her to say. She’s not so dense as to think that they’d been dragging their feet just to frustrate her. “They do respect me, and I had to do nothing extraordinary to earn it—only what I’m truly capable of. We are equals.”

“Enough so that they trusted you to make this journey alone,” says a voice from her other side, mild and gentle, and Sypha turns without thinking, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms.

“My angel,” he says, stroking her hair, and as it always does, the endearment makes her heart clench up a little around something—something hard and painful, like a rock in her chest, that she has never understood.

She huffs a laugh against his robes, pushes through it. “It was more a matter of whether I trusted them to survive a month without me.” Kiri laughs then, and her grandfather does too, and it warms her to know, with this kind of certainty, just how lucky she really is.

“…and it was in this way that the houses were joined, the scorched land of one family and the usurped fortress of their oldest enemy, and from the ashes of tragedy and loss and centuries of discord arose the hope of an unexpected and brilliant future.”

A long silence, broken up by the crackle of logs in the fire, by the quiet rustle of voices from elsewhere in the camp. There’s no need to pronounce the end of a story here, not if one is half decent at telling it; Sypha knows that they are just letting it sink in.

“A remarkable story, more so even than the first telling, which we have all heard,” one of the elders says, one she isn’t familiar with. In front of the old woman’s feet, a pair of young children are still staring raptly at Sypha. The elder’s voice is warm, pleased. “It will be quite a thing to add to our memory stores. And quite a thing to know that one of our own played a role, in such a difficult time for our country.”

“One of ours, one of Dracula’s, and one of their own that they threw out,” says a young man a few places to Sypha’s left; his voice carries the twist of a smile. “I wonder how the church must feel, in the face of such irony.”

And oh, that’s a thought that has given Sypha much satisfaction over the last year—to be a fly on the wall when the heads of the church met to discuss what had happened!—but the old woman frowns. “I imagine they feel as though they nearly caused the extinction of all human life in Wallachia,” she says, a touch sharp. “Perhaps that is enough?”

One of the children at her feet giggles, a Look who’s in trouble kind of sound, and the man ducks his head. But he’s not in trouble. That isn’t how they do things. “Pardon me, Elder,” he says, “but I disagree. That they made a horrible mistake is knowledge that can fade or be downplayed over time. That they were saved by the very people they ostracized and cast out—that carries weight that cannot so easily be shrugged off. Even if we cannot share this with the rest of the people of Wallachia, that lesson should at least be preserved.”

Because it is about hubris as much as it is about blame, she can remember saying, after that first meeting they’d had with Acasă’s strange new church. Blame can be washed away with a convincing enough apology, and hubris will make the same mistakes over and over again. Both must be undermined if any progress is to be made.

It had been a hard sell. Adrian tends to want to place blame if only to have something to aim all of his anger and sadness at, now that he’s allowed himself to start navigating them; Trevor only wants the world to feel more just than it is. But in the end she’d brought them around: more needs to be done than to just rub the church’s nose in the mess it’d made.

Which is why they’d agreed, in the end, for her to finally tell the story in its entirety—nothing masked or obfuscated, no details left aside. Only for her people’s ears; a closed telling, a rarely invoked practice used when the full story needs preserving but would put the participants in danger, should it get out into the general populace. The people of Acasă are just now starting to truly accept Trevor for who he is; tolerating a witch and a vampire is a bit much to expect of them, just yet.

“For whatever it’s worth,” she says now, “as a participant in the story? I agree. How this was ended, and by who, is just as important as who started it in the first place. There are lessons in both of those things."

The elder regards her for a long moment, thoughtful. Then nods, just a tiny dip of her face into the firelight. “Very well. This story will sit alongside the previous version. The nature of Wallachia’s saviors is to be preserved, as a means of emphasizing the church’s shortsightedness and the need for it to not repeat that mistake.”

Sypha nods deeply, a long and slow dip of her head nearly to her knees. “My thanks, Elder. May your tribe live happily and well, in the coming year.”

“And yours.”

The crowd disperses, some going to hear or tell other stories, some retiring to their caravans for the evening meal. One figure stays nearby, hunched over a nearby fire, close enough to have heard her telling but not actually part of the group receiving it. In the fading light, the shape is just that: a shape, a silhouette, blue-black against the blue-white of the snow, limned in the cold violet light of sunset. They have a branch in their hands, are stripping it of its side-shoots methodically, tossing them one by one into the fire.

It’s a silhouette Sypha would know anywhere.

“What stories have you to tell,” Sypha asks, settling down alongside her, the ritualistic question feeling strange in her mouth, “since this time last year?”

Kiri huffs a laugh. “None as exciting as yours. You’re a hard act to follow, Sypha.”

“You seemed excited about all the knowledge you’d gained, earlier.”

Twist, pull, snap. “That’s nothing, compared to having a grand destiny.”

“I still say that destiny is too strong a word. We basically fell down a hole.”

“Directly into the vault of Greşit’s sleeping soldier. At precisely the time the three of you were most needed. That sounds like kismet to me.”

Sypha can’t help but laugh, remembering. “It felt more like incredible clumsiness, from where I was standing.”

“Falling.”

“From where I was falling, yes.”

A stretch of quiet, then, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

“So,” Kiri says after a while, tossing an entire handful of twigs into the flames. There’s a smile on her face but the firelight has turned it bitter, all shadows and edges. “Your soldier is a vampire.”

“Dhampir, really,” Sypha corrects, kneejerk. For so long, it’d been Trevor she was correcting, then after a while, Adrian himself; she’s used to being quick on the draw with it, because either of them saying vampire had generally been a sign of badness brewing.

Kiri breaks another few twigs free from the branch, twists them in her fingers. “I don’t know what that means.”

Right. Of course she doesn’t. “It means his mother was human.”

“Oh,” Kiri says, seemingly still not sure what to do with this information. “I knew that, I guess. From the story itself. I didn’t realize the distinction mattered.”

“Yes, it… it matters. A great deal. I do not think a true vampire would have ever sided with humanity.”

"Still. I wonder if I would have been able to guess, had we met in the summer instead of the winter."

Sypha plucks at the scarf around her neck, the wool scratchy but warm, dyed in a hundred vibrant colors. It’d come from the market in Acasă, knitted by an old blind woman, and had been a gift—gratitude for the work they’d done securing the town against the demon attacks. They had saved her son’s entire family, and gone home that night and celebrated it, a battle with no casualties save the demons themselves. She’s wearing it because of the cold, but she knows what Kiri is asking. "Perhaps."

A huff of breath. “So much for your gentle warriors.”

“You would probably be surprised,” Sypha says with a shrug, not even bothering to take offense on Adrian’s behalf, because she can tell this isn’t what Kiri’s actually upset about. Some people compare words to weapons, and it’s truer than they know; you can dodge and feint and mislead with them as well as you can with steel. “But that isn’t—Kiri. What’s going on?”

For a long moment, no reply. The fire cracks and pops, splitting the wood apart in a spattering of sparks. Kiri throws the whole branch into it like a spear, a hard burst of frustration.

“Taerna married, this summer,” she finally says, the words quiet.

That stops Sypha cold, her fingers poised in mid-reach for a branch of her own. She curls them back up around the empty air, feels the nails bite into her palm. “She always said she would wait for you.”

“Why should she have bothered? We were only friends.”

“You were more than that.”

“She married,” Kiri repeats, short, face tightening as if to hold something inside. “Like all of my friends and sisters did. Marriage and children and… it’s all anyone does. We had plans. We were going to, to travel, and she was going to hunt our food and I was going to heal people and we were going to see the world together. But this is the only life anyone seems to care about.”

And even you’re going down that path, Sypha can hear, unsaid. You and your prophecy, your exiled hunter and your inhuman soldier.

Sypha closes her eyes, takes a breath. “She cares about you.”

“She also cares about her hound.”

“She loves you,” Sypha says, insistent.

Kiri laughs, bitter, tears threatening. It’s like watching an old dam crumble, flawless limestone threading through with cracks and stress fractures, and then: an outrushing of things held back for far too long. “Not enough,” she says, curling forward over herself, arms tight around her belly. “Not more than she loved the idea of having a child. Not enough to be with me.”

“Oh, Kiri. I’m sorry,” Sypha says, threading an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in. “I’m sorry.”

“Do yours love you?” Kiri asks after a moment, muffled by the layers of robes. “Enough to change the world, to defy everything for you?”

Sypha thinks about Trevor punching Dracula in a ridiculous, suicidal attempt to keep him away from her, thinks about Adrian in her garden, enduring the sun to make her happy—about a castle and a watchtower and the ending of the story she’d told, and her grasp on her friend tightens. “They do. And each other.”

A laugh into her shoulder, rough and wet. “I’ve always thought it would be terrible, to be involved in a prophecy,” she says, barely audible. “I never thought I’d be so jealous.”

There’s a stream that runs past the ruins, a narrow but swift-moving current that cuts through the ground here like a knife. It leads into the tough, gnarled pines and firs that grow this close to the sea, into these dark and uninviting woods that are nevertheless filled with a thousand secret places.

Sypha follows it, as she always has, year after year.

Things are different, this year.

She finds them by the water, bundled up and talking quietly. There’s a fire burning, but it’s been banked and allowed to subside down to embers, giving off heat but very little light. In the heavily filtered winter moonlight, they look like faery folk—Arn with his delicate, dignified features, Lily with the luminescent white bone beads threaded into hair the color of pitch, both of them beautiful and earnest.

They look up when she steps closer, their faces dark, shadowed. Painfully anxious.

She sits down on the ground, near to them, facing them. She is just as filled with anxiety. She has never done this, has no idea how to approach it—she knows they are not being blindsided like Kiri was, knows they have had time to adjust to the idea of this, but all she can see is her old friend’s face, broken up in grief over a friend-love she—and everyone else—had thought was something more. For once in her life, Sypha cannot find the words.

Then Lily smiles, the brilliant, passionate smile Sypha remembers, and holds out her hands, and Sypha lets herself fall into the woman’s arms, nearabout crushing her in the embrace.

“It’s all right,” she whispers, against Sypha’s ear. “You’ve found your loves. It was always bound to happen to one of us.”

Sypha nods against her, feeling the tears welling up. Turns to embrace Arn, the familiarity of his touch painful in this context, in knowing what she has to do.

“Are you set to marry?” Arn asks, quiet, solemn.

Sypha shakes her head. “I haven’t brought up the subject yet. There are a lot of complications—no human establishment would ever welcome us. But...”

“But you would like to.”

“Yes.”

“Will you come back to us then, for the ceremony?” Lily asks, and her voice sounds like the fear of paths diverging, not knowing if they will ever converge again. “Or even just to visit? You know there are none here who wouldn’t welcome all of you—or if there are…”

“Lily will convince them to change their minds,” Arn finishes for her, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

Sypha closes her eyes, takes Lily’s hand. “Of course. I could not stay away for long. And you can always visit us—we’ll have a lot of space, once we rebuild.”

Visiting, seeing old friends: it’s not the same, won’t ever be the same. And sometimes things change, and people change and what they are to each other changes. But these two were always dear friends first and foremost, and that will never—can never—be any different. She gathers them both into her arms, and it’s a sweet, comfortable place to be.

“Please tell me,” Arn whispers into her hair after another long moment, “that Belmont at least bathes regularly, now?”

And like that, the seriousness of the night vanishes, goes up like a twist of smoke into the black. Sypha laughs, and keeps laughing, until it turns to tears again and she can’t sort out which she’s feeling more of.

“Yes,” she says, with a little hiccup of sob-laughter. “He does. He fights the darkness and protects the innocent—like he was born for. And washes the monster blood off, after.”

“Good,” Arn says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We could tell from the beginning, that he was capable of being more than he was pretending to be.”

A long measure of silence, only the water rushing past, too swift to freeze even in the heart of winter.

“Will you let us give you a proper farewell?” Lily asks, hesitant. “Do they know—”

“They know,” Sypha says, biting her lip. “I talked with them about it before I left. They don’t mind.” As long as it’s a farewell, she hears Trevor saying, laughter in his voice even as he’d tried to be serious about this. And not a ‘till next time’.

Adrian had just been quiet, and had smiled softly in that way that is always disarming to her, and had simply said that traditions, and closure, are important. For everyone involved.

“Do you want this from us?” Lily asks. “Whether they mind is not the only question.”

It’s secluded in the little copse of trees, even the starlight blocked by the arching branches thick with green needles, and warm from the banked fire. Sypha nods, and reaches out with both hands, palms up in invitation. They each press a kiss to her open hands, and they hold her and she holds them, all of them swathed in the shadows of this secret place. She lets them say goodbye to this part of their collective lives, lets them put their hands and their mouths on her and push her to giddy exhaustion—one last gift from her youth, and one that will have to hold her over through the winter chill until these two weeks are out and she can begin to make her way home.

When they wander back to camp late that night, appetites sated and tension shaken away, things are different between them, always will be different, now—but that’s all right, in the end. Change, like liquor in a wound, can sting, but it is sometimes the only thing that makes the blood run truly clean.

The next day passes quickly and well. She gives her grandfather the gifts that Adrian and Trevor had sent along with her; scouring the castle library, Adrian had found a rare volume of supposedly true stories from the far east that he thought the tribe would appreciate having to add to their memory stores, and Trevor, feeling some cabin fever in all of the early season snow they’ve gotten, has taken up carving—which is to say, he isn’t very good at it yet, may never really be. But the two simplistic figures he’s sent are easily recognizable as rough caricatures of priests, one missing a finger and one missing an eye. In memory of the day we all met! he’d said, performative, trying to disguise the sentimentality as tactless humor.

Her grandfather laughs to himself as he holds the figures up, and she can tell he’s trying hard to mask how entertained he is; violence is so anathema to their people and yet, somehow, this particular act of violence never seems to have unsettled him. Context, she supposes; Trevor had been acting specifically to save his life, and he could have done far worse.

She wanders the camp, looks at all of the lovely exotic decorations, and plays with the children, an odd pang in her heart as she watches their innocent games. She helps prepare lunch, lighting the fires for the ones doing the cooking, chopping vegetables and kneading dough for flatbread, and she goes into the woods with Kiri to gather more firewood—they will need a lot of it, tonight.

They don’t talk, while they gather. It’s not awkward, just an understanding that the space between them needs some quiet, needs time to breathe.

She visits with the others in her family, with the surrogate aunts and uncles that are not actually related to her by blood, with the childhood playmates and the mentors, and with Taerna and her husband, a man from another tribe who’d chosen to join hers

instead of the other way around, had chosen to take her name. He seems sweet enough, and Taerna seems happy, if a little haunted around the edges of her eyes. Everyone she asks says that yes, of course they will be there, tonight.

Last night had been for stories, and tomorrow will be as well. But tonight is for celebration. All things in equal measure.

Hours in, Sypha drops onto one of the logs around the edges of the clearing; she slumps forward with a happy groan, reaching to rub the knots and strings out of her calves. Her walking muscles are conditioned like no others, but dancing muscles are a different story. It’s a good ache, though, like that burn in the cheeks that comes from too much smiling, too much laughter. She feels overheated from the exertion and the fire, no matter the chill in the air, and she unwinds the scarf, loosens the top layer of her robes to let the air move through.

Between where she sits and where the fire burns, silhouettes move, a chaotic display of human joy and beauty. They have no structured dances, really, though longtime partners often grow into each other’s steps. She can smell warm food nearby, bread and stew and hot mead, sees all of her family and friends and the strangers that come here as well, all her people, all dressed as she is, and wonders again: could any of them, the ones with magic at least, have done what she did?

She stares into the fire, remembers the feel of the castle’s engine between her fingers, the way she’d felt reality bending and brittle fracturing around her, so much more power at her disposal in that moment than she’d ever brought to bear conjuring fire or ice—and she thinks that no, maybe not. She’s met other magicians; she’s not sure any of them have ever trapped an eldritch monstrosity or blown apart an Enochian ward or—or done the things she’s come here to learn how to do. The things her father and her grandmother could do.

Later. Later, when the Nasaii tribe arrives. They should be here by morning. She will learn what she needs to, and she will go home, and she will be able to protect that home more thoroughly than she ever has before.

In the meantime, she watches the dancers, contemplates getting some stew, contemplates whether her legs will fall off if she tries—watches Arn and Lily together on the far side of the clearing, twisting in a tight curl that makes Lily’s hair lift, the fire lighting up her bone beads and glinting in Arn’s eyes. Watches the children imitating the adults, the youngest pairing off with their siblings, stumbling all over each other. Watches strong, tough Taerna with her husband, insisting on leading him, as much as anyone can lead in this sort of dance.

Watches the elder she’d told her story to last night, sitting across the fire from her, watching Sypha right back with a gentle smile that says Don’t worry, that says You will be with them soon.

And there’s nothing inherently romantic about these dances on the solstice—friends dance with friends, parents with children, and many dance alone—but she remembers being young and everything being about those early, tentative relationships, remembers that there was a thrill in getting the chance to dance with those people she called heart-mates, or to be asked to dance by someone she wished to be that close to.

So she can’t help but smile when she sees Taerna whisper something to her husband and break away from him, sidling hesitantly up to where Kiri sits. She’s poking at the dirt with a crooked, bare stick, and her sandals haven’t touched the dance ring—are clean of the dust and soot that coats the ground here, the

remains of a hundred years of bonfires.

Taerna holds out a hand, uncertain.

It won’t solve all of the problems, won’t make Kiri’s love hurt less or magically mend things between them. But there’s something of healing in Kiri’s eyes as she reaches up to take that hand, leaves the stick behind in the dirt, lets herself be pulled up and into the ring of dancers, the two of them falling into each other’s space with an ease that says We belong here, that says Even if we must change, there is still us, that says You will never be a stranger in these arms.

Next -- >

#castlevania #fanfic #netflix castlevania #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #adrian tepes #alucard #fanfiction #taproot #wellspring #trephacard #post s2

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romance-of-three-memes · 4 months

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It's been over 6 years since Dynasty Warriors 9 came out, and 6 years since we've had a new main series entry. We're not getting another main series entry at least as of yet, we're getting Dynasty Warriors Origins, which was revealed in Sony's 2024 State of Play show, which has been remarked to have been an utterly mediocre event (much like this entire generation of tRIpLe A video games). The first trailer is here:

youtube

So, what do I think of all this? My overall sentiment can be summed up as follows:

Fuck man, I dunno.

Dynasty Warriors means a lot to me. It means so, so much to me. It's shaped a lot of aspects of my life, my taste in video games, music, characters, and costume design, my academic interests and aspirations, etc. I learned Chinese in college and studied abroad in Beijing largely because Dynasty Warriors stoked that interest in me from a young age. So yeah, I *really* love this series. I *really* am not sure what my life would look like if it hadn't been part of it. And I *really* hate what's become of it.

I want to be excited. I want to be optimistic. But at the same time, I don't, because man, does getting your hopes up only to have them dashed hurt. Nothing last forever, and after the sorry affair that was Dynasty Warriors 9 (the strongest defense I've heard for it was 'it's wasn't as bad as people say' it wasn't AS bad. Yeesh), it's made me wonder if there's really much of anywhere left for the series to go that's interesting.

The formula itself, the 1 vs 1,000 gameplay, has long been ported to other IPs such as Zelda, Fire Emblem, and Berserk, and a lot of them have been great (holy shit I love the original Hyrule Warriors). This proves that the gameplay concept can continue to evolve and be engaging. But Dynasty Warriors as a narrative device for that concept has been pretty played out, and it's not like this is a new observation, anyone who's played more than one or two Warriors games would probably be able to tell you the same thing.

Given the differing gameplay with the whole nameless hero bit and the title it's probably more like (another) spin-off than a main sequel, and that may very well be because the devs don't have much of anywhere else to go with the main series, which may be for the best. I'd rather let something go quietly into the night than watch as it shambles on like a reanimated corpse, although I'd rather it ended on a better note than Dynasty Warriors 9. Something that particularly bothers me is the wording of some of the ad blurbs, like on Koei-Tecmo's official twitter account announcing the game: 'In addition, for the first time in a Dynasty Warriors title, the storyline will be told through the eyes of a “nameless hero.” Play through the historical tale of war as chaos erupts throughout the Three Kingdoms, showcasing the vast lands of China and its most ruthless generals like never before!’

That's *technically* true, but in a very legalese way. This isn't the first time the Warriors series has had an original character with no historical or cultural background being 'the main character' of the game. Dynasty Warriors 4 and most of the Empires games have the option for you to create a player character and play through the game with them, and Samurai Warriors Chronicles is the same deal, albeit that's even more like the premise of Dynasty Warriors Origins because you play as an OC going through the late Sengoku Era. And man, the evolution of the character creation over the years has been pretty amazing. It makes me wonder if this 'nameless hero' is going to be customizable other than changing their weapon (which was showcased in the trailer). I'm going to be really honest, unless that character ends up being extremely compelling and well-written, I'm going to be very put off if we can't customize them, or if there's only a small degree of customization. In Samurai Warriors Chronicles 3 I can make a player character who’s a woman that’s taller than virtually every male character, isn’t stick thin, can wield any other character’s weapon or her own unique weapon, and I can put her in cool armor that isn’t pointlessly sexualized, and I can give her different voices who all give the character different personalities in their lines and delivery, and I give her the overconfident, ruthless voice actress. If you take that degree of customizability away from me after having given it to me on a handheld system from the previous generation, I will lose a ton of interest, Dynasty Warriors Origins.

Another thing that maybe isn't quite as major but still gets me is the announcement tweet on Koei-Tecmo's official twitter account that goes 'Fueled by exhilarating 1 vs. 1,000 action and the rush of massive armies, DYNASTY WARRIORS: ORIGINS delivers an unrivaled sense of realism to the battlefield'. Realism. In Dynasty Warriors. A game series where you play as characters with superhuman abilities and are at a peak physical condition that most people could never hope to achieve. Realism? You think I want realism? You think *anyone* plays this series for realism? One of the best parts of Dynasty Warriors is how flashy and campy it is, and how unabashed it is about that (or how it used to be, anyway). Dynasty Warriors has never, ever been about realism and feels more like chasing trends, since realism has been a buzzword in the video game community for years now (albeit it's quieted down within the past few years, thankfully).

Still, this is just a very basic first trailer. Could it be great? Yeah, I'd love for it to be. But do I think it will be? Most of what little evidence we've been given so far makes me lean towards 'no'. That doesn't mean I necessarily think it'll be terrible, but I also don't really think it will be great.

As much of a cynical, joyless bastard as I can be, I don't get anything out of saying all this. I usually love being right, but not about this. Man would I *love* to be wrong about this. I really, really would. Also, I don't mean to rain on anyone's parade or try to convince them that they shouldn't be excited or should expect the worst case scenario, I'm just throwing my opinion out there. Maybe once we see more my expectations will take a turn for the better.

So I guess I'll end this with the sentiment I began with: Fuck man, I dunno.

#dynasty warriors #dynasty warriors origins #fuckin finally finished it

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 months

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Is It Really That Bad?

Women leading superhero films has a long and troubled history even before losers online decided to make it their life’s mission to bully Academy Award-winning actress Brie Larson for the crime of being in a mediocre MCU movie. 2004’s Catwoman is the film that is usually pointed to as the movie that poisoned the well in regards to superheroine blockbusters, but it takes two to tango; the following year’s Elektra is just as much to blame for the negative perception of these sorts of films.

And how could it not be? It was rushed into production, Jennifer Garner really didn’t want to do it but was contractually obligated, it was supposed to be rated R until more contractual obligations nipped that idea in the bud, and on top of everything else it was a sequel/spin-off to a movie that was already extremely unpopular (Daredevil vindication was a long way’s off at that point). With all that in mind, is it any wonder that it’s one of the lowest grossing films to ever be based off of a Marvel comic? The only films that did worse were Punisher: War Zone, Man-Thing, and The New Mutants. Even the Howard the Duck movie did better than this shit!

The career of director Rob Bowman as tanked because of this film, with his credits being relegated to TV. Garner, meanwhile, fared just as poorly, with her career cooling off and leading roles not being a thing for her after that point. But worst of all is the career of the poor boat house in this movie, as it ended up appearing in Fifty Shades of Grey. And obviously this film dragged down the idea of a woman headlining a superhero flick for about a decade until Genocide Barbie Gal Gadot stepped into Wonder Woman’s boots. And while Catwoman would receive better adaptations on the big screen, Elektra would get no such chance…

...Until it was revealed that Garner was reprising her role in, of all things, Deadpool & Wolverine.

While the film isn’t out as of the time of this review, the announcement of her presence in it really got me intrigued about the last time she donned the red ninja outfit. I’m a huge apologist for early to mid-2000s superhero garbage, so it only made sense to check it out in preparation for the massive Marvel crossover Deadpool was about to deliver. And you know what question I always ask when going in to an infamous film like this: Is it really that bad?

THE GOOD

This film is just hilariously corny when it wants to be. I think when it does stupid stuff other superhero films of the time did, it tends to do them at least a little better. For instance, like Ghost Rider it has a quirky miniboss squad full of boring flat characters who exist for Elektra to kill. But while the ones in Ghost Rider are completely forgettable and bland, this film at least has some striking visuals with Tattoo and hot forceful lesbian murder smooching with Typhoid Mary, something I’m sure awoke things in the five people who watched this.

Garner herself is really, really trying, and to her credit most of the action scenes she’s in are pretty ok when they aren’t being edited to death. As I watched the unrated version, the brief glimpses of insight into her backstory are nice, and I do love that bright red costume on her. If nothing else, she does sell how cool Elektra is supposed to be with how she carries herself, even if the writing isn’t doing her many favors.

The final act is where things really get fun, because we have a big stupid battle against magical tattoos, teleporting ninjas, and genuinely the funniest possible way to kill a villain ever. I legitimately burst out laughing when I saw this:

youtube

THE BAD

Unfortunately, no matter how funny Typhoid Mary taking a knife to the forehead after saying her only two lines in the movie, two lines that actually give her more character than every other villain in the film, it can’t really completely save the film from its two massive, crippling issues.

Literally everyone in this movie is a fucking moron. The biggest moron is easily Elektra’s buddy, who sacrifices himself so Elektra can escape from the bad guys… but his sacrifice is pointless because they pull the info from his mind with psyhcic powers. He would’ve been better off running away with them! But it’s not like the villains are much smarter; one of them chops down a tree, and then almost immediately forgets this and walks into its path before getting crushed to death. It is genuinely absurd how dumb these characters manage to get. The dumbest of them all, however, has to be Stick. I genuinely have no idea what the fuck this man is trying to accomplish at any point, because he is recklessly gambling with people’s lives here.

But hey, dumb decisions are fine in a trashy 2000s superhero movie as long as they lead to some enjoyably dumb scenarios, right? Well, about that… Barring a couple of ridiculously goofy action scenes, this film is pretty bereft of memorable corniness. Remember how I said the minibosses in Ghost Rider were not as good as the ones here? Sure, maybe it’s true, but no amount of murderous lesbian smooching makes this movie more memorable than Ghost Rider, which features over a dozen insane Nicolas Cage moments. But maybe that’s cheating, it’s not fair to compare a Jennifer Garner vehicle to a Nicolas Cage one… so how about Catwoman? As absolutely shoddy as that movie is, there are a bunch of cringey, campy scenes that have helped earn the movie at least a handful of ironic fans. There’s just nothing like that in Elektra. It’s trashy and stupid in safe, unimpressive ways for the most part, and it doesn’t do anything at all to really stand out from the crowd.

IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?

Yeah, I guess it’s bad, but the level of bad that it is is greatly exaggerated.

The movie I’d most compare this to is, of all things, Morbius. I love Morbius more than most people, and even I’m willing to admit it’s multiple bright spots of trashy charm are interspersed with the dullest shit imaginable, and Elektra has a similar issue. It’s just so goddamn unmemorable and dull for the most part, with only the final act being packed full of silly nonsense to latch onto. But even that comparison isn’t great, because Milo was sprinkled throughout Morbius and was genuinely hilarious the whole way through, while Elektra just plods along until it remembers to actually be a little cool for the finale.

I guess really the film is less “bad” and more “not good.” Like if you throw this on in the background as noise while you do something else, it’s not the worst you could do, though even then something like Black Adam would probably be better. If you want to watch a trashy 2000s superhero film, I guess it’s not unwatachably unpleasant, but why wouldn’t you watch Catwoman or Ghost Rider instead? It just is in such an unenviable position where it’s the bottom of the bottom of the barrel, the least engaging super-schlock ever made, a movie not good enough to be vindicated but not bad enough to deserve the hate it gets. Elektra is just a film that exists. That’s all there is to it and aside from the single funny death, I have no strong feelings about this movie. I think a solid 4 is where this belongs. Not good enough to be average, not bad enough to be awful, it’s just there.

All this being said, I’m honestly very excited to see Garner become a teleporting ninja assassin again. Every comic character who was in a crappy adaptation deserves a second shot, be it as a new character (Michael B. Jordan as Killmonger) or as a reprisal that improves on the untapped potential that was there (Jamie Foxx’s Electro in No Way Home). I’m rooting for Garner to get her due, and for Electra to get the respect she truly deserves… But I just don’t really think this movie’s going to be getting a reappraisal no matter how good she ends up doing.

#is it really that bad #IIRTB #review #movie review #Elektra #Marvel #Jennifer Garner #Daredevil #superhero movie #action movie #Youtube

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beevean · 8 months

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The misunderstanding of what canon means is exhausting. I like Saint Seiya, which has a wealth of spin-offs, many of which exist in a dubious state of canon to the main tl, and people just refuse to play nice sometimes.

We have *multiple* axes of the problem:

The main anime has major irreconcilable plot changes from the manga. Including undoing multiple characters as blood relatives.

The original anime was cancelled, and the following ovas that adapted the rest of the manga came out many years later, and contradict the prior anime while still keeping anime only changes anyways.

The most popular manga spin-off was never strictly canon, but it existed mostly unchallenged. When the main canon got a direct sequel, it contradicted the spin-off timeline while also recycling many of its story elements.

There's an anime only sequel that existed to sell a figurine line but was basically treated as canon to the anime timeline, until it suddenly was confirmed it wasn't, and then was displaced by another anime only sequel that was also canceled, lol.

Another manga spin-off was largely considered canon, but now it also has it's own direct sequel with an alternate timeline and an alternate future, which probably isn't canon maybe. (???)

One of the movies was *supposed* to be canon to the manga, but executive meddling changed the script. Some events of the movie should be canon but also can't be. It's in a full continuity snarl.

Etc etc. The original author's official stance is basically 'idk pick what you like best and roll with it', but it feels like simr fans are constantly bashing on his work specifically, to try and argue why their fav entry should be considered greater canon. When that ultimately doesn't matter - it's his story, lol. If nothing else, we know the default is always going to be the original manga he wrote. So watching people try to denigrate the thing they're trying to claim canon ties to, feels like shooting themselves in the foot no matter what. If you don't like the main timeline, stop trying to claim a spin-off you like is in it! Problem solved!

(...also yeah, if you couldn't have guessed from 'only blood relatives in the original canon' and the propensity of spin-offs to contain fanservice, or characters that only exist in one work, or expys based on other characters, etc. A LOT of the drama is just poorly disguised shipwank anyways)

The last line encapsulates everything, I feel 😂 nothing more annoying than shipwank disguised as something more important

This sounds like a complete mess, and I mostly blame the executives flip flopping. Personally I'd only consider the og manga canon, and everything else a non-canon spin on it that might or might not be better.

But yeah, there seems to be a propensity to assume that canon is a badge of honor. And this is also what leads to shipwars where people insist that their OTPs are canon, or they should be, and the story will fail if they're not, and you are wrong if you don't agree...

It's by far the worst, least productive way of being a canon purist IMO.

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adamwatchesmovies · 5 months

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Ocean's Twelve (2004)

Making Ocean’s Twelve must’ve been a blast. You can tell the actors were certainly having a good time. Too bad the fun can't extend to the audience as well. This film thinks it’s so clever, so funny. All I want to do is punch it in its smart little face.

Set three years after Ocean’s Eleven, Terry Benedict (Andy García) has located the Ocean's crew and demands they return his money - with interest. Fearful for their lives, the group schemes to pull a few quick jobs to pay him back but their efforts are hindered by the master thief “The Night Fox”. He agrees to help Danny Ocean (George Clooney) and his friends out of their jam if they can best his legendary skills.

Immediately, the film is in trouble. Either Danny and his friends will succeed in their mission and pay back Benedict - which will make us unhappy because we don't like him - or they will fail and the villain will have them all killed - which will make us unhappy because we like them. The only possible way to avoid audience disappointment would be for the scoundrels to somehow steal from the man - again - and beat him so decisively that he gives up trying to get his revenge. Unfortunately, that’s what the first movie was about so you know it’s not going to happen.

Ocean's Twelve can’t even figure out what to do with its characters. The problem is that although we sort of got a vibe that they got along, we never really believed the people rounded up by Danny were friends. It was pretty clear that at the end of the first movie, they were going their separate ways. Maybe some of them would keep in contact but no one was ringing up “The Amazing” Yen (Shaobo Qin) to see how he was doing. Like many others, he was hired to fulfill a role in a con and nothing more… but he was in the first movie so he has to come back again. How does the screenplay by George Nolfi use him? It shoves Yen into a bag and then accidentally ships him off to the wrong country so he can be “in the movie” but off-screen as much as possible.

Forget Twelve. This movie only has a few important characters. There’s Danny and Rusty (Brad Pitt), Danny’s wife Tess (Julia Roberts) and Rusty’s old flame, Isabel Lahiri (Catherine Zeta-Jones). Then, you have the villains with Vincent Cassel as The Night Fox and Andy García. Everyone else could’ve been condensed into one or two people. Similarly, the plot could’ve been thinned a lot. As is, there are so many twists and turns it’ll make your head spin. In another heist film, that would've been good but so many revelations are then revealed to be completely useless by the final scene it makes you feel like you wasted your time. In this instance, the main plan is so dumb you know director Steven Soderbergh is trying to pull a fast one on you and you don’t buy it for a second.

The most infuriating scene is also the unfunniest. The crew's target is the Fabergé Imperial Coronation Egg (quite the step down from a vault full of money if you ask me) so they recruit Tess (who is the twelfth member of the team) to help. Their plan? Capitalize on the running joke that she “sorta” looks like Julia Roberts by distracting the people in the museum while the others steal the egg. Not terribly clever, this gag also breaks one of the unspoken rules of filmmaking. The audience promises to ignore the fact that we know these are actors on-stage as long as the movie doesn’t draw attention to it and pretends the story is set in a world other than ours, “Last Action Hero”-style. As Oceans Twelve does this whole “I don’t look that much like her”, “Oh no! There’s Bruce Willis! Now I have to pretend like I know what he’s talking about” thing, you make a mental promise to hate the film no matter what it does later.

The worst part of Ocean’s Eleven” was the hint at a sequel right at the very end because deep down, you knew the magic couldn’t be replicated, that only the most convoluted of scenarios could bring these people together again. Ocean’s Twelve proves that so thoroughly it’ll make you wish the actors would all retire. (April 28, 2022)

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hostess-of-horror · 2 years

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Inspired by our other conversation. If you were put in charge of the next HHN, you can make the houses, the stories to them and the scarezones, what would you do?

Kinda like the HHN wishlist but I am curious of what you would do in the details of it. 👀

- @classicdeadfan

*SQUEALS OF PURE DELIGHT*

@classicdeadfan, you have no idea how much I wanted to talk about something like this! I love haunted houses, scarezones, and Halloween in general, so of course I would have tons of ideas as to how I would develop a proper attraction!

The Main Theme:

Now, I never really thought about an overall theme for HHN, mainly because I only ever thought about specific themes for houses and scarezones. Although, the more I think about it, the more I'm leaning toward a "deranged artist" horror story theme. I know that The Director is a "deranged artist" that already exists within the HHN-verse, but I was thinking more along the lines of the Killustrator from Singapore's HHN event.

Or perhaps, Sander Cohen from BioShock.

Okay, maybe not him specifically, but an Icon character much like him. If there's anything I love, it's the concept of an artist who uses murder and other horrific ways to create masterpieces.

Another thing I also really want is Cindy to make her appearance as an Icon (she was going to be one years ago, but she was switched due to the multiple child kidnappings in Florida at the time).

So... Cindy + "Deranged Artist" = A very meta main storyline where Cindy, after years of being promised to have her own "Icon"ic debut, finally lashes out against Universal Studios for denying her the chance to shine. With a cursed sketchbook in hand, Cindy unleashes her twisted, child-like drawings into the streets, killing anyone and everyone in their path.

2. The Scarezones:

I'm going to do five scare zones for my HHN event because there were five of them last year, and honestly, there are so. many. ideas.

Halloween Horror Nights 32: Drawn in Blood - the main entrance to the entire event. Cindy has finally taken over Halloween Horror Nights as her personal canvas and the blood of those who denied her years ago is the ink of her pen. You will encounter Universal Studio employees and creative teams being torn apart, gutted, beheaded, and tortured by her living creations. Her father, the Caretaker, will also be there, supporting his daughter as she wreaks havoc. Beware of Cindy, or else you will become her next biggest inspiration!

Army of Frankenstein - the scarezone spin-off to The Bride of Frankenstein Lives, where the Bride's various experiments have now been released into the outside world. Cower in fear as you witness villagers get attacked by these man-made beasts and are forced to bow before their malevolent conqueror. Nothing will stop the Bride from hunting down all of mankind until she either wipes them out or until they surrender to her...

Vamp '32 - a "prequel" to Vamp 85. Set in the year 1932, the Great Depression has fallen upon all of humanity. Where life has become difficult, death is now far easier than ever before! Enter the party of the century as poor souls are tricked into getting easy employment for the hosts and higher-ups. In the world of undead flappers and gangsters, fresh blood is the most valuable of all!

Bugs: Unleashed! - the sequel to Bugs: Eaten Alive. After the failure and destruction of Buzzcon, the mutated bugs are now taking over the world! Step into the 1950s as a suburban neighborhood becomes a hot spot for breeding and human food supplies, and armies are just about helpless in fighting these bugs off. You better BUZZ off, or else you're dead meat...

Haunted Couture - inspired by Vanity Ball, this scarezone has turned into an exclusive R.I.P. tour of the "Gore"-geous world of fashion. Using the leftover flesh from her previous massacre (main entrance), Cindy's revenge has taken to new heights as her victims become living mannequins for all to see and scream! As someone once said: "Beauty is pain."

3. The Haunted Houses:

All of these are not in a particular order, as I am searching through wiki pages and whatnot to come up with some good house ideas.

Vikings Undead: Glory and Gore - a previous scarezone turned haunted house. Follow along with an excavation team and witness their newest discovery yet: an unknown burial mound that holds the remains of an ancient Viking king named Audun the Unyielding. Little did they know that their trespassing has cursed them all and he and his Draugr army now rises to satiate their bloodlust. Face your fears in battle and prove yourself worthy of the gates of Valhalla!

Terrifier - an IP haunted house about Art the Clown and his menagerie of gore. Venture through the dingy neighborhood as you are caught in the midst of a grisly murder spree, and Art is on the hunt! This maze is not for the squeamish or the faint of heart... Use your wits to escape, or die trying!

Universal Studios: Opera of Terror (Phantom/Dracula maze) - the sequel to the Universal Monsters line-up. A mob has risen to take down the infamous Opera Ghost as Christine Daae is in his clutches. But as the Creature from the Black Lagoon emerges from the depths of the sewers, chaos unfolds as the two iconic Monsters battle it out for Christine's love. Bodies will drop (as well as the chandelier... again!). Who will win, and who will drown in defeat?

Yokai Hotel (Japanese Creature maze) - Check-in into one of Japan's finest hotels for a night or two... but watch out! This modern hotel has a secret: within its wall remains an ancient curse and the ghouls had taken their place as its eternal residents. You will encounter vengeful ghosts, horrifying demons, and unsettling creatures as they try to feast on your soul. As you go deeper, you will unlock the secrets behind the owner's lineage and what their true intentions are.

Feartime Emporium (Devil Dogs) - Schittie's Kidz from Slaughter Sinema has now become a funhouse of death! Enter Lizzy Lemming's Funtime Emporium as the children within turn psychotic and kill anyone they see. Climb through the booby-trapped playgrounds, sneak through the blood-soaked arcade center, and pray they don't catch you. And whatever you do, let them eat cake... and pizza... and whatever the hell else they want!

SyFy's Chucky - the official HHN house of this year... very self-explanatory!

Retail Hell (original) - it turns out that working in retail isn't all that it's cracked to be. The horror comedy maze of the HHN event, Retail Hell is a minimum wage employee's worst nightmare. A "Karen" has been infected with rabies, and now every "Karen" and "Ken" are going into an animalistic rage, ripping human flesh with their teeth! Survive your way along with the employees and security as you fight against these ballistic zombies. The main mission? Protect the manager at all costs.

Dollhouse of the Damned: Restitched - the popular haunted house from HHN 24 (2014) has finally returned with a vengeance! Revisit the horrors of the dollhouse, now with brand new scares and even more terrifying toys to be frightened of. As you enter, you will experience a realm where good toys go to die and evil comes out to play. Once again, this house is no child's play!

Horrormoon Suite (original) - during the 1970s, Cupid's Arrow Resort was once the perfect place for newlyweds to spend their post-wedding days together. To this day, it lays dilapidated... but far from abandoned. Within its graffitied walls resides a cult of "Undesirables" - people who were rejected in terms of love. In the hopes of finally having love in their life, the Undesirables will do anything to achieve an inkling of romance. Anything...

Legends of London (original) - Jack the Ripper is not the only terror that stalks the foggy streets of London. The city is wrought with death and cruelty, fictional or otherwise, all the way back to the days of kings and queens. Travel through time as you are haunted by the dead and hunted by the deranged. What will it be: slaughtered in an alleyway? Cooked into a meat pie? Or perhaps, beheaded for crimes you never committed?

#I'm sorry if some of the mazes you're looking forward to aren't on here #halloween horror nights #HHN 32 #my HHN event #ideal HHN event #fan wishlist #HHN #universal studios #answered asks

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heronpoxed · 1 year

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Everyone is on fire about Tara and that's deserved!!! The hate I see the most comes from the self-insert/fic crowd. And the arguments are how they would have been better old ladies and handled Gemma and "fixed" Jax. LMAO. Lol even. It's petty jealousy.

I think she was set up, as so many love interests are in crime shows (skyler from breaking bad), to be hated because while the viewer loves the aggression and the world building Tara pointed out how insane and dangerous it all was. Jax isn't so hot and cool anymore once the club and Gemma aren't praising him. Once Tara actually shines a light on how self absorbed and pointless the whole outlaw setup is. Selling guns and later drugs isn't a "mission", it's not being an outlaw. It's just crime for money without any redeeming qualities. As was the clubs behavior towards women and their own children, while yelling "family and brotherhood above all else".

Anyway. Tara was right. And I am very sorry she had to die for Jax to finally realize it. She really wanted the best for him and saw him as a good man.

I’ve only ever read one SOA fanfic that was written in 2013 which is more like a love letter to Tara and her & Jax’s teenage years than anything else (its rlly good. It’s called Beginnings if you’re interested in reading) so I have absolutely no idea what the SOA fic crowd is like lol.

You’re right about this too. Tara was set up but I’m connecting this one to misogyny too. If reasonable female characters weren’t notoriously hated - no matter which relatively older show we’re talking about - we wouldn’t be thinking that they were set up. Hope this makes sense. I get the attachment to the world-building because the setting and the world of the story is the first thing that a consumer sees. In the case of Sons of Anarchy though, it was clear from the very first episode that the current club life wasn’t a right way to live. That was the whole point of Jax finding John’s manuscript; that was what got Jax determined to get the club out of the gun running business right? But i guess the attachment to the world made everyone ignore the whole point of the show and ultimately hate Tara because she never let anyone forget that.

That’s one of the reasons why I don’t want a spin-off/sequel with Abel and Thomas (something that many fans want sm). Tara and Jax didn’t sacrifice everything - including their lives - for their sons’ well-being only for them to get back to SAMCRO. It would mean that all of their sacrifices were for nothing!

Good point on the club’s behavior towards women and their families. The way they are with women is absolutely horrible which makes no sense because all of them would go to war for their significant others but then treat them with sm disrespect at home? I guess that comes down to their ego and toxic masculinity.

Tig, Chibs, Opie, Bobby ALL OF THEM had children yet they never cared lmao. All Chibs could talk about during the entirety of s3 was ‘his girls’ yet he never mentioned either Fiona or Kerrianne in later seasons. As much as Tig loved his kids, his way of life got Dawn killed and he was so extremely devastated!! I can’t believe that after Dawn’s death he never for even a split second questioned his choices regarding his life and the club.

I also hated that Opie’s children gradually started disappearing. i feel like not giving him any storylines with his kids in later seasons dehumanized him in a way. But i’ll never be sure if it was intended that way or not.

All of this collectively comes down to inconsistent writing. To me at least. I don’t know why screenwriters are always adamant on leaving so many loose ends and not digging a bit deeper into stuff like this.

And to answer your last point. Obviously Tara was right and I’m sorry that it took me watching this show twice to realize it but in my defense, I was 15, stupid and didn’t speak good enough English :’)

#family above all else my as*#sons of anarchy #soa #samcro #tara knowles #jax teller #tara knowles teller #jax x tara #charlie hunnam #maggie siff #tara x jax #jara #gemma teller morrow #katey sagal #clay morrow #opie winston #tig trager #chibs telford

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redrascal1 · 1 year

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So, on a number of fan forums people are discussing what future SW films they would like to see.

I have to say, it's amazing how Lucas's original saga 'birthed' so many spin offs.

Ezra, Sabine, Ahsoka. Clone Wars, Knights of the Old Republic, Rebels.

Fans are excited at the thought of their heroes becoming 'live action.'

I'm glad for them. I really am. But...the characters from the Skywalker Saga hold my heart, and always will.

As a child I lived, ate and breathed Star Wars. But SW to me will always be Luke, Leia and Han....and unfortunately, Ben.

Unfortunately because despite everything he became my favourite.

And they killed him off.

Bad enough. But since TROS, DLF have gone to special pains to erase him from SW entirely. His grandfather's sacrifice was known throughout the galaxy. Vader was mourned. He had a funeral pyre.

Ben had nothing.

Just a fleeting thought from Rey on how she would have 'liked to get to know him.' That was all.

There's no logical reason for this. The illogical reason is Ben/Kylo got in the way of Rey.

DLF created Rey as the protagonist of the SW sequels, and she was outshone by Kylo/Ben. Critics hailed Adam's performance and enthused over his character....one of them actually said he was the only thing worth watching in TROS. Fans voted for him as the character they 'wanted to see the most' in TROS.

DLF chose to ignore that, and also they are ignoring Ben.

No mention of Ben in the forthcoming Rey's New Jedi Order film. A vague possibility of Finn returning...but even that isn't confirmed.

Post TROS supplementary material barely mentions him...Shadow of the Sith for example, is all how 'wonderful Rey is'....Ben is an afterthought. This despite him being the son of Leia and Han and the nephew of Luke, the grandson of Anakin.

In their desperate desire to push Rey, they gave her everything that was his. The Millennium Falcon. A 'bond' with Chewie. Anakin's lightsabre. Luke's legacy (starting a new Jedi Order where 'he failed.)

Worst of all....Leia's love, completely character assassinating Carrie's most memorable role.

The are bound and determined to make us forget him.

I can't.

Which is why I have sworn off Disney, Star Wars, and anything else this odious, woke company put out. In all likelihood, permanently.

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theteethofgod · 2 months

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Week One of Random Horror.

Stream of consciousness reviews below (heavy spoilers)

Insidious: Chapter 2.

⭐️⭐️⭐️1/3

Typical that our first spin would land us on a sequel - luckily I watched the first one all the time as a kid so I’m pretty familiar with both plot and characters.

I’ve got to be honest, the majority of my enjoyment of this film came both from how damn good it looks and its commitment to being a Ghost Story™️. The lighting is wonderful, especially for a Blumhouse horror which typically either under light or simply take no creative direction with it whatsoever.

Narratively it’s above average. I am a sucker for a sequel that expertly fills in the gaps from the original and the scenes of Josh in the Further recontextualised without really uprooting some of the best sequences from the first film. Also a big fan of the comic relief of the two idiot ghost hunters trying to contact their dead boss via haunted dice - honestly kinda giving Shakespearean comedy in some places.

Despite some strong scares early on and a very clear love for its neo-gothic aesthetics the film falls flat in the third act. I remember a lot of discourse around whether or not a cross dressing serial killer is transphobic but honestly the bigger crime here is that they do nothing with him. I appreciate the attempt at the twist that the ghost isn’t actually “evil” just desperate to relive a stolen childhood but nothing interesting was done with it and it did feel like the film decided that it was time that you understood that and dropped everything else in favour of conveying this singular idea.

Was it scary? No

Was it fun? Yeah.

Would I recommend? Watch the first one, if you like it keep going.

The Blob (1988 Remake)

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2

The fact that I have gone my entire life without seeing this is outrageous. I believe that I naively dismissed it due to the ridiculous title (I have never seen the original either). Turns out that this is a properly nasty film. Characters are introduced, fleshed out, made funny, gentle, awful, or just irritating and then all are dissolved in a screaming, writhing mess of stunning practical effects. This film has no regard for horror conventions when it comes to violence: children are dissolved on screen and the sheriff off - his acid eaten body floating past the woman he was on his way to rescue in her final moments.

I can only assume that the twist would have been even more effective had I seen the original - the “alien” turning out to be a US government biological warfare experiment feels uniquely post-Vietnam. Even without the impact of the original story being subverted, it was a great reveal that breathed some brand new tension into a second half that could have fallen flat once the blob had used all his tricks (there’s only so much “oh no he’s on the ceiling” a film can make fun).

Was it scary? Kinda.

Was it fun? Fuck yes.

Would I recommend? Yes absolutely it is on youtube go watch it.

Bone Tomahawk

⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2

I literally watched this film for the first time like a week ago so of course it would come up immediately.

I don’t know why but the first time I watched this I was absolutely convinced it was a lot older than it is. Maybe it was the first kill where they just bash a totally stiff mannequin around. Maybe it was because I just don’t associate the 2010s with 2 hour long horror western hybrids. Either way, this film is a lot of fun. I’ve read plenty of debate around whether or not it qualifies as a horror film but I think these people are too caught up in base aesthetics. Monsters come to town and kidnap the doctor, a cowboy, the sheriff and his deputy (who defo have something going on, it can’t just be me), and a sketchy outsider must hunt them down and get her back. The film uses the classic western formula but supplements the Cowboys vs Indians model for Cowboys vs Other, whilst maintaining the native presence as kind of mediators - aware of both sides and choosing, fairly, to say fuck that we’re not getting involved.

That’s not to say it’s some kind of radical colonial horror. Instead I think this was simply included to acknowledge the issues of writing a genre that inherently requires the Other in a period of genocide and displacement.

Mannequin kill aside, the gore is fantastic. There’s one scene in particular that is just absolutely sickeningly brutal and I loved it so much.

Not all that much to say about this one - it’s a slow burn character drama against the backdrop of western horror. It’s fun it’s gross there’s cowboys.

Is it scary? No

Is it fun? Yes

Would I recommend? Yes!

The Omen

⭐️⭐️1/2

Full disclosure: I have tried to watch this film many times and this was the only time I managed. Nothing about this really resonates with me. There’s two main subgenres of horror that never really move me, religious and children/family. I was raised not only atheist but completely removed from any form of religion, genuinely believing that Jesus was kinda like santa in the sense that it’s something you tell kids to make christmas more fun. The idea that people genuinely believe in souls and hell and the like is something that I really struggle to empathise with, no matter how much I’ve tried. I also can’t think of anything worse than being married with kids so the whole Desecration Of The Nuclear Family also falls totally flat. Luckily for me this film combines the two and then goes on for all of time. Damien is not threatening, his nurse is not threatening, the dogs are not threatening. The baboons were kind of scary but not exactly the antagonist.

The priest and photographer both had insanely good deaths - the latter felt a little cheapened by how impressed the film seemed to be with it, but good all the same. The graveyard scene was beautifully lit and I was briefly engaged when he got his arm impaled on the fence.

I don’t like this one. It’s boring and I have nothing to say about it. I hope I never have to watch it again.

Is it scary? No

Is it fun? No

Would I recommend? No.

Hatchet

⭐️

I hate this fucking movie. Perhaps unfairly, but hear me out. 2000s horror is perhaps one of the most cohesive periods in the genres history. The post-9/11 practical effects torture porn dirty warehouses rusty metal and that awful brown/green diseased colour scheme that feels like it infects everything it touches. Controversially I do not attribute this to the classic Saw -> Hostel -> Worthless Derivative Imitators that every History Of Horror book will. Instead I think that we do not pay enough attention to the 2003 Texas Chainsaw remake. Tobe Hooper’s OG commentary on the meat industry finds new thematic relevance in the wake of mass loss of life - especially an event such as 9/11 which saw people trapped amongst the dying and the dead, knowing it was only a matter of time. What is that if not the experience of the slaughterhouse. “Torture porn” (which is a whole discussion in itself) was not about the act of killing, it was about the knowledge that you will die. Combine this genuinely compelling emotional foundation with some of the most ridiculous chinese-whisper warped tropes from the classics (sex being thematically important -> some of the horniest shit you’ve seen in your life, for example) and you get the weird offputting hybrid of the schlocky and the cliche with the genuine zeitgeist of the destruction of the body and sudden outbursts of violence.

How the FUCK do you fail at parodying that. By the time Hatchet came around (2006) these themes had become so codified that if you ask anyone about horror, even now in our “elevated” era, they’ll probably default to describing them (aside from maybe the classics, but that’s a given). Hatchet fails to nail down a single piece of commentary on the genre aside from “sexualised girls” (who incidentally are the funniest part of the film for this exact reason). The villain is cool looking and the practical effects are genuinely outstanding but for a horror comedy that consistently seems desperate to reflect on itself it ends up creating nothing more than a below average replication of the genre with perhaps one or two jokes funnier than your average bottom tier slasher. The whole time I just wished I was watching Scary Movie.

Was it scary? No

Was it fun? No

Would I recommend? No

#these aren’t edited or proofread i just bashed them out after watching in ye olde notes app

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rubynationwins · 2 years

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Wanna Be Yours

Sugar baby! Bucky Barnes x Plus size! Reader

Summary: You don’t have a problem letting Bucky see other people, but Bucky wants to tell you that you’re all he needs.

Main Masterlist

Warnings: angst, fluff, pining, jealous! bucky, dirty talk/thoughts, swearing, Bucky is in his mid-late 20s

Word Count: 2,816

A/N: I’m very excited to be posting a fic, I feel like it’s been forever since I last posted one! I’ve had this in my wips for quite a while now, but didn’t work on it because I felt guilty for not posting my other fics that are sequels/parts of series first. But those are still far from being done(I’ve kinda also been struggling w/ writing them oof), so I shifted gears and edited this one & feel very pleased w/ how it came out! I love this concept, and I hope you all are into this pairing/dynamic because it’s a little different than my others. Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!

This story should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.

Thanks for reading!

-Ruby

You don’t keep Bucky – or James, as you call him – on a very short leash. You don’t want him to feel tied down when he’s at such a pivotal age for young, virile men like himself. He should be able to explore and enjoy his youth with partners he doesn’t feel obligated to be with. This isn’t your first sugar relationship, so you’re plenty aware that young men don’t want to only be with you; which is something you learned the hard way. It’s better to let them live their lives with predetermined rules instead of getting cheated on by men who don’t have the balls to tell you they need more than you have to offer.

So, with Bucky, you made your expectations clear from the start. He can sleep with whoever he wants as long as he’s safe, uses protection, gets checked regularly, and always puts you first; and in turn, you give him whatever he desires. Lucky for you, he has stuck to your rules and made good on his promise to be by your side when you need him. Honesty, communication, and companionship, that’s all you really need, nothing more. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

------------------------------------------------

“James-”

Bucky spins around from the mirror he was checking his hair in and sucks in a breath. You are standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a playful smirk on your painted red lips.

“If you keep messing with your hair it’s going to fall out,” you give him a once over, “You look beautiful, darling.” And he does. He is absolutely stunning in his navy suit, a simple dark grey turtleneck underneath with a gold chain loose around his neck. It’s the one you bought him for your 6-month anniversary last month. Technically, you paid for the entire outfit he’s currently donning, but you personally picked out the chain yourself. It matches the slim bracelet that’s dangling around your wrist.

Bucky blushes lightly under your sharp gaze. He doesn’t know why, but a flutter erupts in his belly every time you compliment him. He never gets so worked up when others flatter him, only you.

“Right back at ya’ doll,” he flashes a wolfish smile, “you sure we have to go to this event? How ‘bout instead I get you out of that dress and we head to the bedroom because I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna keep my hands off you in that thing.”

Not too long ago you would have thought he was all talk, but Bucky has proven just how much he adores your body – curves and all. You can’t help but agree with his statement anyway, you look absolutely banging in your elegant Theia gown. The deep fuchsia color complements your complexion perfectly and the way it hugs your curves is like sin. The side slit stops just at mid-thigh and the off-the-shoulder straps mean your neckline is on full display. The way his eyes flash as they take it all in sends heat straight to your core, but unfortunately, you’re on a time crunch.

“As tempting as your offer is, James, I can’t miss this one. It’s a company celebration, and as the newest member of the board, it’s vital that I be there.” You gently grasp his hand and lean into the warmth of his large, muscled body, placing a modest peck on his cheek, “But since you’re going to be with me, I know the night will fly by. Before you know it, we’ll be back here and you can help me with this damn zipper.” You chuckle, winking playfully before walking away to grab your clutch resting on the table a few feet away.

Bucky’s pupils are like black saucers as he stares longingly at your ass as you bend over to slip on your shoes. As much as he wants to ignore your words and shove you up against the nearest wall and fuck you in that delectable dress, he knows that your work life is important to you, so he restrains himself – for now.

“Alright, doll.” He holds his arm out for you to take and you wrap yours around it, feeling the hard metal underneath the fabric of his suit jacket. “As long as you promise to help me out of my pants as well.”

You gasp and hit his shoulder playfully, “James!”

He shoots you a shit-eating grin and walks to the door with you hanging on his arm, your soft body melding into his.

Tonight is going to be great.

------------------------------------------------

Tonight has been crap.

Bucky sulks at the bar, toying with a toothpick and sipping at his glass of brandy. Again, he glances over to where you stand surrounded by a group of coworkers, all of whom are men.

Shit.

He downs the remaining contents of his glass and motions to the bartender for another before going back to glaring at your little posse. He isn’t mad at you though, well, not that much. No, he’s pissed off at the slime-balls crowding you. Don’t they have their own dates to ogle at? Why did they have to steal you away as soon as you both stepped into the ballroom with the pretense of “private business matters”?

Turns out, those “private business matters” are getting you drunk and blustering about your many achievements and how lucky they are to have you on the board. Bucky knows his jealousy is misplaced. He, above everyone here, knows how hard you worked to get this position. You are the youngest person, and the only woman, to ever become a board member. He’s damn proud of you, in fact.

Still, he can tell these sleazy old men don’t give a damn about your work, not with the way they all stare at you like some kind of meal for them to devour. Bucky respects your boundaries and your work life, but how is he supposed to sit back when the tall shit-head with graying blonde hair on your right, who has easy access to getting a peep at your cleavage, keeps touching your arm? Can’t you see what they’re up to? Or are you being deliberately obtuse just to ruffle his feathers?

You wouldn’t do that though. Even if you were flirting with these geezers, which Bucky’s sure you’re not, you wouldn’t do it to get a rise out of him because you wouldn’t think it possible. You’ve never said it outright, but Bucky knows you don’t think he minds when you talk to other men. He does though, he fucking minds a lot.

How can he blame you for it, though? You made it abundantly clear at the start of your relationship that it was fine for him to see other women, even if he wasn’t the least bit interested in anyone else, not from the moment he laid eyes on you. When he tried to argue that you didn’t have anything to worry about – that he didn’t want anyone besides you – you shut him down completely, saying there was no room for argument, that he either accept the terms, or you wouldn’t be able to see him again.

Bucky wanted to strangle every selfish, fucker that made you go to such lengths to feel comfortable in a relationship. Of course, he conceded to your stipulations, there was no way around it, he needed to be with you. But, if you didn’t care if he fucked other people, how could he possibly demand that you only have eyes for him?

Still, though, it was taking all his strength to not rush forward and sweep you away from the group of lechers, and maybe kick a few of them in the nuts for good measure.

A new drink is placed before him and he knocks it back immediately. When he turns back around to continue stalking you from afar, his blood runs cold.

The other members of your group are gone and now it’s just you and blondie talking. The bastard says something and you laugh, reaching up and squeezing his arm, swaying on your feet. He places his hands on your plush hips to, supposedly, stabilize you. All the while, pulling you in much closer than necessary.

Bucky is out of his seat and at your side in a split second. He grabs the offending man’s wrists and yanks them off of you, “Watch where you’re touching, pal.” His threat comes out in a low growl and he pulls you to him, his grip tight around your waist.

“James? What are you doing here?” You hiccup, eyes hazy as they blink up at him. Your surprise at his presence sends a pang through Bucky’s heart. Had you so easily forgotten about him?

Even so, no man touches what’s his.

Bucky takes a step back, bringing you with him, and leans down to your ear, gritting his teeth together in a faux smile, “I’m here because I think it’s time we go. You’ve had too much to drink, doll,” he speaks lowly so only you can hear. He knows his words are a bit too harsh and his tone a little too strained, but he can’t shake the defensive anger coursing through his veins.

The blonde man, who for some reason is still standing there with a strangely satisfied smirk on his lips chooses that very moment to speak up, “So you’re James? Nice to meet you,” he reaches out for a handshake, seemingly unfazed by the murderous glint in Bucky’s eyes. Bucky outright ignores his proffered hand, but the finely clad man brushes off the rebuff and casually slides his hand into his pants pocket, “Y/N talks about you all the time. I can see why, you’re a nice-looking kid.”

He wants to punch the callous grin off of the old asshole’s face, but you snort, “Tod, quit it, stop teasing him.” Bucky’s jaw tightens, you didn’t say he’s not a kid. Bucky hates feeling unworthy of you; like he doesn’t belong at your side. He may be young, but he has just as much right as any to call himself yours.

Tod cracks a smile, “Ha, alright, I’ll see you on Monday, Y/N.” He nods his head at you in goodbye and moves to leave. But when he passes Bucky’s shoulder, he leans in and whispers, “Better get her home quick, son. Don’t you have a curfew to worry about?” He chuckles to himself when he catches Bucky’s seething face, not at all intimidated by the rage flaring in the younger man’s blue eyes. With those final parting words, Tod walks off, lucky to not have a bruise the size of Bucky’s left fist on his smarmy face, in Bucky’s opinion.

Bucky breathes heavily, trying not to run after the guy to show him where he can stick his fucking curfew bullshit. Instead, he switches his focus back to you. You’re leaning into him, your usually calculating eyes spacey and a goofy smile plays on your lips. He frowns, you normally don’t drink so much, “What the hell did you get yourself into, doll?” This time his voice is softer, worried, but less biting.

You glance up at him, your eyebrows furrowed, but once you understand what he’s asking, you let out an uncharacteristic giggle, “To celebrate, we did some shots, I don’t remember how many I had,” your words are slow and nonchalant, as if you are actively trying not to slur them together, “Anyway, why are you upset, darling? I thought I told you to find some guys your own age to chat with. I knew you wouldn’t be interested in all our boring old business talk.” As you talk, Bucky hurries you to the exit, only pausing at the coat check to grab your things. He messages your driver to be out front in five.

“Guys my age?” His tone is bitter but you’re oblivious to his simmering indignation.

“Yeah! It’s a party for mostly higher-ups, but a few of them brought their sons, and some brought their daughters too,” you give him a sly wink at that. Bucky just stands there in front of the decorated driveway, trying to temper the many unsavory responses he wants to make at your last remark. His arm is wrapped around your full waist, clutching you to his side. He stays silent as your car finally pulls up, the driver not bothering to hop out since Bucky already has the back door open before he even rolls to a complete stop. Bucky ushers you into the backseat before sliding in after you.

The partition is already rolled up so he turns to you, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Daughters?”

You scrunch up your face, confused by his questioning, “Yeah, I’ve met some of them. Mr. & Mrs. Willson’s daughter, Sarah, is a real looker. I think you’d like her, she’s just your type, and then there’s Melina’s daughter, Nata-”

“I don’t understand.” Bucky stares at you, trying to mask the hurt in his chest, “Were you trying to get rid of me? I came here tonight to be with you. Why would I want to spend it with some other girl? Why did you spend it with other men? Y/N, I-I don’t know what you want from me, why would you-” His tone has turned accusatory and befuddled. He wants to come clean, to shout that he doesn’t give a shit about other women, but the words are caught in his throat. He’s too much of a coward to speak them aloud.

You shush him, shaking your head, a placating smile on your red lips, “James, I don’t know why you’re getting so riled up, but stop. I just want to enjoy the rest of the car ride home with you, please, I’m tired.” You kick off your heels and relax your head against his shoulder; placing your soft hand in his. He gazes at your lovely face as you play with his metal fingers. The flashing lights that fill the car as it passes underneath brightly lit billboards and dim streetlamps cast fluttering shadows around your ethereal features. His chest fills with a sentiment he doesn’t know how to describe, one he’s maybe too scared to unpack. Your eyes drift shut and your hands still in his, as your soft snores fill the interior of the car. Bucky places a gentle kiss on the top of your head, soaking up your rich perfume.

When the car arrives back home, Bucky carries your sleeping form inside, hugging your plush body to his chest. He lays you down on the bed and goes to work getting you ready for sleep. He knows you wouldn’t want to go to sleep with makeup on, so he grabs a makeup wipe from with bathroom and removes your still pristine look. Bucky loves the power and confidence makeup gives you, but he adores your fresh face, which he doesn’t often get to see.

You tend to keep him at a distance, only letting him see parts of you, not allowing yourself to be “messy” in his presence. Again, there's that foreign panging in his heart. It feels like there is a wall between the two of you, one that you purposefully set up, Bucky’s afraid he’s never going to break it down. Even tonight, when you were fairly drunk, you held a certain air of professionalism about you, so to speak.

You always have to be in control and Bucky wishes that you would just let him be the one to shoulder the burden for once. It’s like you think he’ll abandon you if you ask him to commit more to your relationship. You just don’t know how much he craves you when you tell him he has the “weekend off”, or that he only has to come to events “if he wants to”. You may think you’re letting him have “freedom” and not feel “tied down”, but in reality, you’re denying him the time and companionship that he so desires from you. Bucky wants you to demand more of him, to expect more from him. He sure wants more of you; however he can get it.

What if all you ever want is just a good time and a good lay with a young, pretty face? A few months ago he might have been satisfied with that, but now he wants more. And he is terrified to ask for it.

He finishes cleaning your face and even has the mind to put moisturizer on you since you live and breathe the stuff. He unzips your gown and pulls it off your body. After taking a moment to appreciate the majesty of your body, he goes and hangs the dress back in the closet before coming back out with one of your pajama sets.

He removes your strapless bra and slides the soft, silk pajama top over your chest. You have shapewear on so he shimmies you out of it, which is a little challenging he’ll admit. He has no clue why you wear the restricting stuff. You say it’s to have a smooth base for your tighter garments to rest on, but he suspects there might be more to it. Either way, it’s your body and he gets to appreciate it with and without the shapewear on, so he’s plenty satisfied.

After he gets your pajama bottoms on, he quickly changes into a pair of boxers, not bothering with a shirt. He shuffles into bed beside you, pulling the covers over you both. He hugs you to his chest, trying to get the feeling of dread to leave his subconscious. You’re here in his arms, and that is enough. It has to be.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x plus size reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #sugar baby!bucky #plus size reader #Bucky angst #bucky fluff #mcu fanifiction #mcu x plus size reader #plus size reader fanfic #bucky barnes x you #jealous bucky barnes #sugar baby!bucky x reader #My writing #mine #rubynationwins

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ggukkiereads · 3 years

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Hello!! Just a few days ago I stumble upon your blog and I'm wondering if you have some recommendations for Hybrid AUs, much appreciated if it is an OT7 and completed, but if so I will still be so thankful. (I just need some cure from the stress that modules brings) Thank You in Advance (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

🌷 Hello! welcome to my mini fic-reading land. I’ve actually received asks for Hybrid AUs (I pinned the requests in the navi) but I just have a very messy draft.

But to help you with your stress, I think I can share a few of my ongoing reads (sorry they won’t be complete but they’re OT7). But, I added completed ones I could remember too (●'◡'●)

*note: will edit this later and organize this per member - maybe add other fics I’ll remember*

Fic Recs | BTS Hybrid AUs

→ A Place Called Home @agustdakasuga - OT7 x Reader

series [27/27] | 88k | Hybrid AU, Poly AU, Soulmate AU, Romance Humor | Fluff

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

→ If I Can Never Give You Peace @candlewaxandp0lar0ids - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 17.6k+ | Mafia AU, Enemies to Lovers | A (so far)

It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and her father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

🌷ggukkienote: I am so hooked on this (because I am a sucker for Mafia AUs too). This is such a great story and the OC is really different from the usual OCs. Very interesting.

→ Eunoia @wishesunderthestars - OT7 x Reader

series [15/?] | 100k+ (I just assumed this, masterpost doesn’t have wc but it’s 6k per chapter or more?) | Director!Reader, hurt/comfort | fluff, eventual smut

You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job. You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

→ Restitution @cloudteawrites - OT7 x Reader

series [7/?] | 48k+ | slow burn, poly, mystery, romance

when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.

→ Lacuna @barbika1508 - Jungkook x Reader

series [42/42] | 324.3k | Hybrid AU, check for TW | Fluff, Angst, Smut

Lacuna - (n.) a blank space, a missing part

Y/N just wanted to go back home, to enjoy her peace and quiet away from problems and people. But typically, her luck strikes as she stumbles upon a horrific scene of two guys mistreating an already beaten down hybrid. Will she take matters into her own hands and help him? Or let someone else help along the way???

🌷 This is on AO3 and I got a recent ask about author’s tumblr. So if you prefer AO3 you can check their profile

→ A Hundred Percent Human by wrienne- OT7 x Reader

series [12/?] | 88k+ | Hybrid AU, fluff, angst, smut |

In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.

🌷 This is on AO3. I don’t normally reco AO3 since my blog is focused on tumblr fics but someone sent an ask about this so I’m including it

→ Inferiority Complex @starlightauroras-writes - Jimin x Reader

series [10/?] | 88k+ | political themes, themes of abuse (hybrids) | A, S

You had never liked hybrids. You disagreed with their very existence, and you never wanted to have anything to do with them. And then one day, you discovered a hybrid who was more scared of you than you were of him, and everything changed as you realised you were the only hope he had…

→ Sanctuary @chimchimsauce - Jimin x Reader

series [16/16] | 20k | Wolf Hybrid!Jimin, Barista!OC, feat sanctuary staff Taehyung, hurt/comfort | F, A

YN is a young girl, bright and ambitious, but due to her busy schedule, she's been unable to make any real friends. When an ad for Saint Mary's Sanctuary catches her attention, she never expected her life to be changed by a certain hybrid named Jimin.

→ Summer Nights @marginalmadness - Jungkook x Reader

series [4/4] | 23k | Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance | F, S

A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long...will it?

→ Risk it All @/httpjeon - Jungkook x Reader

series [5/5] | 8.3k | hybrid au, alpha wolf!jungkook | A, F, S

ripped from your family, you find yourself in a warehouse filled with predators. just your luck, you’re right across from a caged alpha wolf.

🌷 (I linked Chapter 5 because for some reason others couldn’t find this chapter so they thought it’s still incomplete)

→ Outro Love is Not Over @kiirokero - Hoseok x Reader

series [12/?] | Daycare Teacher!Hoseok x Single Mom!Reader

You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. But you’re a human. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

→ It Takes Two To Make A Thing Go Right @imaginethisbts - TaeKook x Reader

two shot [2/2] | 11k | dom/sub themes, heat cycles | S

What’s better than one dogboy lover? Two dogboy lovers. But when Tae and Jungkook seem unusually clingy, it can only mean one thing. That time of the month has snuck up on you and your dogboy lovers do not want to share.

🌷 Also try their other Jungkook hybrid series Out of the Blue

→ Peculiar Park @daydreamindollie - OT7 x Reader

series [9/?] | 38k+ | imagines, slice of life | Writer!Reader, Psychologist!Reader, imagines | fluff

you’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist who takes in seven hybrids on one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden

→ Yeouiju @nomseok - Namjoon x Reader

one shot | 33.7k | Mythical AU, Hybrid AU (if you squint), suspense | A, F, S

you find an ancient stone in the middle of the mountains and bring it home with you, oblivious to the consequences of taking a dragon’s yeouiju.

→ Beautiful Stranger @/nomseok - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 19k | circus AU | A, S, F

your dream is to take care of animals for the rest of your life in the big city, making sure that they’re cared for. but you stumble upon a malnourished, rare tiger in your local circus, and you can’t help but want to take care of him.

→ Evolution of You and I @readyplayerhobi - Jimin x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | kind of epistolary (letters), chat, childhood friends | F

For 15 years, Park Jimin has been in your life in some form. From childhood penpal’s to the closest of friends now, you can’t imagine your life without him even if you’ve never actually met him in person. It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen for him, even across the distance that separates you. But what happens when you finally meet up and you discover he’s been keeping something secret?

→ Fish are Friends @httpjeon - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | seahorse hybrid!taehyung | A, S, F

after moving to the seaside, there is a dreadful storm. when all is clear, a man washes up on shore…only he isn’t quite human.

🌷 you know seahorses mate for life and it’s the male that gets pregnant? Interesting huh

→ Pink Panther @gimmesumsuga - Seokjin x Reader

one shot | 13k | boss-employee | F, S

The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are.

→ Ragdoll @ausblack - Jimin x Reader

series [17/17] | Hybrid AU, College AU | F, A

As you were studying to obtain your medical & veterinary degree, your professor came up with the idea of organizing an internship - where you found yourself side by side with a sick hybrid that needed nothing other that complete care.

→ Jagged + Catnap @opaljm - Jimin x Reader

one shot + sequel | 18k | jaguar/black panther!jimin, sand dune cat!reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, established relationship (sequel)| S, F, slight A

The pretty little sand cat hybrid Jimin has been in love with for the past year experiences her first heat and Jimin would love nothing more than to be the one to guide her through it and breed her with his kittens.

🌷 there’s also a possible spin-off for Taehyung (Eye of the Tiger)

→ Owner @jessikahathaway - Jungkook x Reader

series [6/?] | 17.4k | Fake Dating AU, Hybrid AU, based on Kimi Wa Petto (Japanese anime) | F, S, A

With your mother hounding on you (no pun intended), you decided to get a little help from a hybrid, who was also in need of assistance.

→ Loving Him Was Red + Somewhere Only We Know @userseok - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 12.8k+ | enemies to lovers, childhood friends (sorta), college au, jock!jungkook, unrequited love (for OC) | S, F, A

you’ve been chasing after jungkook for years. after a harsh verbal altercation between both of you, you decide to leave him alone and pursue a relationship with someone who seems genuinely interested in you, thinking he would never return your feelings.

I would like to recommend the catalog of these writers:

@ditttiii - so I realize I’m following them on AO3 when I realized the fics looked familiar 🤭. They have an ongoing series called Enchanted to Meet You which you might want to check out if you like Soulmate AUs too! I recently reblogged a Jungkook two-shot comfort fic (hybrid au too) so I recommend going through their masterlist!

@aroseforyoongi - who I discovered because of Gossamer (KTH). It was completed but I think it’s up for re-write/re-post? You can try the others:

Navy Blue - Jungkook [completed]

Forever Yours - Yoongi [one shot, prequel to Navy Blue]

Let Me Love You- Jungkook [one shot]

@magicalsalamander - another favorite author of mine I just feel like I’m reading a great tale every time I start on a series or one shot. They have great fics with supernatural themes too

Rabbit on the Moon - Jungkook | if you’re in the mood for police officer Jungkook [6/6]

The Act of Persuasion - Seokjin | if you are in the mood for Single Dad AU x Arranged Marriage too [one shot]

Firefly that Guards the Fox - Taehyung | if you are in the mood for mystery [11/12 - just epilogue left]

Kitten’s Little Flame - Yoongi | if you like BF to Lovers between dragon and a cat [6/6]

There’s more so please check their Masterlist

@hollyhomburg - I just love Of Fire and Love (hello dragon!yoongi and baby!jungkook? 🥺) But you can check:

their masterlist of all their hybrid fics

Dance to This series which I’ve added to fic recs based on an ask about stories that include members/readers with disability.

Don’t care if it Hurts - Jimin | this is probably my favorite (again I’m a sucker for Mafia AUs) , guard dog hybrid!jimin [12/13, just epilogue]

@angelicyoongie - I got hooked after reading their stories on AO3 but they have tumblr too! Check their masterlist for ongoing hybrid fic (Abundance - OT7) but these are completed ones:

Desolate - Yoongi, grumypy cat hybrid [14/14]

Out of the Woods - Namjoon, wolf hybrid, strangers to lovers [3/3]

@worldwidebt7 - if you like webtoons! I read parts of Jungkook’s webtoon and I think currently we’re on Yoongi’s story. Access it here

@jincherie - One of the first hybrid fics I remember encountering is Inheritance (MYG). Other fics:

Perihelion - Hoseok, college, roommate, enemies [2/?]

Butterfingers - Namjoon, teacher au, this is cuuuute READ IT if you’re looking for something fluffy [one shot]

4 o’ clock - Taehyung, single dad au (I included this in the singel dad fic recs too) [3/?]

Under the Bridge - Jungkook, found jungkook under the bridge [one shot]

@whitesparrows97 - a writer I discovered because of a Yoongi soulmate fic but I found that they also have other hybrid fics:

Cat’s Cradle - Yoongi, bestfriend [5/5]

Underdog - Taehyung, shifter, brought home what she thought a stray dog [5/5]

@foxymoxynoona - and what would my reco be without foxymoxy? So they have tumblr but their works are on AO3. I’ve listed their current works here but I didn’t include their completed works which are must-reads:

Sugar Fairy - Jungkook, mating, adopted hybrids [48/48]

A Sea of Indigo - Jungkook, ex-fighter [48/48] ⭐⭐⭐

@therealmintedmango - They have a whole masterlist of their hybrid!au fics. I recently finished Kingdom Come and I always remember Jimin from King (for some reason)

@joonbird - check their Zodiac Hybrid Masterlist of one shot per member

There are more (usually one shot per member) but I’ll probably put them in another Fic Rec List for Hybrid AUs. Sorry this list is kind of all over the place (not even organized per member 🤭). But good luck with your modules and I hope these help!

(❁´◡`❁)

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