#Setting: Modern/Hero/Horror

[battleguqin]

"I have to say when I woke up this morning I did not think Alien Invasion was on my list of things to deal with today. Yet, here we are.." he was glancing up and the many ripples opening in the sky over New York. The cup of coffee in his hand all but forgotten in the moment.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

do you have anything on gothic horror and gothic erotica?

Writing Notes: Gothic Horror & Gothic Erotica

GOTHIC HORROR

A subgenre of horror novels that focus specifically on death.

Originated in the 18th century.

Exemplified by the author Edgar Allan Poe.

Also known as gothic fiction.

It is a literary genre characterized by elements of:

mystery,

horror, and

the supernatural.

Features of Gothic Horror

These are a few of the distinctive features of Gothic Horror:

Complex heroes: In Gothic tales, writers portray the protagonist as an anti-hero—someone with a complex personality that reveals elements of good and evil. As an outcast of society, the protagonist usually has monotonous features, which appear physically or emotionally. For example, the hero may have an uncontrollable rage. Thus, the troubled and doomed anti-hero is a Gothic motif that has influenced the literary canon.

Damsel in distress: A damsel in distress—typically an innocent, young woman—is a classic, Gothic trope used across stories. Often a supernatural being has held the helpless woman in captivity, locking her away in an isolated tower or castle. In Gothic romance, the damsel in distress often falls in love with the anti-hero, who has a seductive and charming personality combined with a dark side, such as a violent temper.

Existential themes: Explores existential themes to dramatize the plot. Gothic writers examine and question morality, reality, religion, and philosophy to match the ominous setting.

Extreme emotions: The idea of emotional extremes is another creative tool used in Gothic fiction to dramatize the story. Characters experience an internal torment that can assume a variety of different forms. Tragic and ominous plot points, such as the death of a loved one or an unsolved murder mystery, often send the protagonist into a spiral or raging catharsis.

Ominous setting: An eerie and spooky setting is a pillar of the Gothic novel, invoking suspense into the narrative. Common locations in Gothic fiction include Medieval ruins, haunted houses, and dilapidated monasteries. These types of ominous spaces often have secret hallways, trapdoors, and mysterious rooms that conjure fear and curiosity in the reader.

Supernatural elements: Supernatural elements—such as the use of ghosts, vampires, monsters, and demons—are another defining feature of Gothic fiction. Gothic writers employ these spooky elements to explore paranormal activity, embed terror into the plotline, and evoke fear within the reader.

Inspired by the aesthetic and architecture of the Middle Ages, Gothic literature gets its name from the Gothic castles, churches, ruins, and abandoned estates it uses as a setting for the haunting storyline.

Writers combine dark imagery with suspenseful narrative to reflect the decayed and battered state of the architecture, fusing terror with pleasure.

Romance often plays a role in Gothic fiction literature, as writers interweave the element of death into romantic relationships to build tension and capture the reader’s emotions.

Gothic Horror is one of the oldest of the horror genres.

Darker, edgier and on the Romanticism end of Romanticism Versus Enlightenment (in fact, it quite literally emerged alongside the Romantic movement in the late 18th century as a reaction against the values of the Enlightenment), it tends to play on both the thrill and the fear of the unknown and places a great importance on atmosphere.

It's usually heavily symbolic, sometimes even dreamlike.

In addition to being important to the horror genre, the first Science Fiction, Mystery Fiction, Fantasy, Romance, Thriller, and Adventure authors drew inspiration from Gothic horror, so it's sometimes considered the parent of all modern genre fiction.

Gothic fiction is usually used as a synonym or is the name given to Gothic horror stories that are saturated with the above mentioned sci-fi, fantasy, romance, mystery, or adventure elements.

As new writers contributed to the Gothic genre, numerous subgenres developed, such as the Southern Gothic, Gothic romance, Gothic ghost story, and modern Gothic, all of which fuse aspects of the supernatural into the story.

While the popularity of the Gothic novel soared during the late 18th century, it peaked during the Victorian era.

Today, Gothic fiction continues to inspire the themes and styles of thriller and horror novels.

Modern writers that use Gothic elements in their stories include Toni Morrison, Shirley Jackson, Susan Hill, and Stephen King.

If you’re looking for a basic answer for what makes up gothic horror, some of the hallmarks are:

Haunted and decayed settings (castles, homes, etc.)

Supernatural elements (especially ghosts)

Themes of isolation and/or confinement (both physical and mental)

Emotional and psychological overwhelm (characters doubting their reality, facing emotional turmoil like grief and loss, etc.)

Morally ambiguous characters (these characters engage the reader’s thinking on a deeper level)

Discussions of religion or philosophy (often tied to the morally ambiguous character)

Terror vs. horror (terror is when authors use suspense to build unease, and horror is when the promise of that terror is delivered)

Examples

Dracula by Bram Stoker (1897). A gothic horror novel about a vampire who wants to spread the undead curse to as many people as possible.

Frankenstein (1818): Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is one of the most well-known works of Gothic fiction. In this classic Gothic novel, Shelley explores the ramifications of science, as protagonist Victor Frankenstein attempts to create life from a corpse. Shelley’s image of a monster sewn together from human body parts has become a famous symbol associated with Gothic literature and horror.

The Picture of Dorian Gray (1891): Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray is a Gothic horror story that uses a portrait as a base for entering the supernatural world. Wilde examines morality in the text, as the protagonist chooses to sell his soul in the pursuit of sin.

GOTHIC EROTICA

This blends elements of gothic literature (see Features of Gothic Horror above) and the erotica genre.

The erotica genre intends to arouse the reader.

Any genre can become an erotic genre, as long as it has a place for sex—explicit sex scenes, to be precise.

Romance novels might be a gateway to the erotic women’s novel, but the romance novel has more emphasis on the sweet relationship between the characters, where, the erotic novel is more tuned in to the sex acts.

Erotic Literature - (or Erotica) written stories about people having sex.

Although it's like porn, Erotica can be educational, well-written, and sometimes even pass into the literary canon as acknowledged classics.

A way to divide the two is to mentally remove the sex from the story. If you still have a story, it is erotica.

Modern day books tend to deal with the emotional side of sex and sexuality, and often — with varying degrees of success — attempting to introduce a story or arching plotline.

Erotic Horror works often push against the limits of our comfort zones. Typically includes:

Consent issues

Graphic violence

Sexual themes that shock

A blend of discomfort with titillation

"Psychosexual Horror" Trope

This trope is when eroticism, sexuality, and scenes of a sexual nature are the theme or genre of a story, usually done through Personal Horror, Psychological Horror, Supernatural Fiction, or represented by characters and monsters with Freudian associations.

These powerful feelings of desire are depicted as uncontrollable hormones, instincts, and temptations that overwhelm a character's better judgment with great force and intensity, leading to conflict when it overcomes their judgment.

The psychosexual horror genre explores themes of:

sexual exploitation,

emotional manipulation,

sexual violence, and

sexual identity.

Often involving:

power imbalances in relationships,

manipulation,

obsessions, and

traumas that are linked to past sexual abuse, childhood trauma, or other traumatic experiences.

In relationships, sex is a weapon in these stories by using sexual tension and sexual prowess as a means of control and dominance.

Examples

Bitten: Dark Erotic Stories by Susie Bright. An anthology of gothic-style erotic horror.

The Bloody Chamber: Many of the stories (including the title story, which is based upon "Bluebeard") explore themes of sexual awakening, intimate relationships and predatory behaviour via Gothic fairytale retellings. The stories usually focus on a female perspective, with girls and women having to outwit predatory men, although some stories play around with this (for example, "The Lady in the House of Love" has an innocent, idealistic young man preyed upon by a female vampire, who struggles to overcome her monstrous nature to obtain her dreams of love).

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Writing Notes: Gothic Fiction & Gothic Romance ⚜ Horror

Hope this helps with your writing!

[physalian]

Your colloquialisms are ruining the immersion (or, non-contemporary dialogue)

I am no expert here! Whenever I wrote historical fiction it was anachronistic historical fiction. This advice is from a reader’s perspective and from my experience writing high fantasy.

So what’s the deal with immersive dialogue? I’m going to ignore writing dialects and accents and so-called “old English” with the thee, thy, thou and such. Solely focusing here on the narrative telling me this isn’t set in present times, and yet the dialogue being painfully colloquial like present times.

This is coming from a book I had to read set in HRE times. In it, characters were spouting modern curse words, tacking on verbal tics and crutch words like “or something” and “um” and drawing out words like “daaaamn” and “nooooo”. Rip out the dialogue and toss it in a script with zero context and it would read like two high schoolers from 2009, not two adults from the Holy Roman Empire. Which is a problem, because it completely shattered the immersion. —

1. On so-called “formal writing”

Everybody knows that nixing contractions doesn’t do a damn thing to help your writing look more “formal”, it just looks robotic and stiff, right? We’ve gotten past this as a society? There’s a time and a place for replacing contractions with the full words, but not for every single sentence.

I swear this show keeps creeping into my writing advice but here we go. Transformers Prime. The context for Optimus’ dialogue has a lot to do with his aging voice actor, Peter Cullen, and the perception of the character over the decades from the corny 80s paragon hero everyman type leader to the grizzled and wizened old soul type leader. Optimus isn’t “one of the guys,” he’s old. Very old. He’s the dad of the group (one dad, his grumpy medic is the other dad).

So he gets lines like:

“I fear Megatron’s ambition is at its zenith.”

“But if his return is imminent as I fear, it could be a catastrophic.”

“I bore Skyquake no ill-will.”

He doesn’t curse like the other Autobots. His voice only raises in surprise, horror, or rage. He doesn’t go “um/ah/so/but/eh” and always thinks about what he’s going to say well before he says it. Despite him, Ratchet (the dad medic), and Megatron all being very old, Optimus is the only one who’s “proper” and collected and dignified with his lines. The writers didn’t achieve this simply by omitting contractions, he gets them where necessary and removes them when effective (e.g “We do not.” / “We don’t.”)

2. Thesaurus Rex

Continuing with the Optimus example, no other character in that show would use “zenith” unironically. Or “ill-will”. This doesn’t mean crack open and abuse a thesaurus but there’s a huge divide between:

“Megatron’s gone crazy and he’s going to implode soon” and “Megatron’s ambition is at its zenith”.

I can’ think of a better word to use than dignified, perhaps distinguished to describe his dialogue.

He doesn’t say “what?” when he’s confused, he pauses and says something like “please elaborate”.

This is both word choice and a syntax issue so if you’re struggling to fit a non-contemporary vibe for your work, pay attention to both.

3. When to abstain from cursing

There’s something very special about the dialogue in the Lord of the Rings movies: It’s PG-13 so they can’t curse, but if they had, it would have probably ruined the trilogy. These characters are able to yell in rage and anguish, spit vicious insults at their enemies, and stare down armies that are determined to kill them, all while never breaking the immersion.

Insults like:

“Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear.”

“Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth, you witless worm.”

“Your words are poison.”

And all three were said by or about Grima Wormtongue.

Characters aren’t dumbasses, they’re fools, with the exception of Gollum’s insults toward Sam, the “stupid, fat hobbit”.

Even devoid of name-calling, Denethor absolutely trounces his second son by asking (and I’m paraphrasing) “Is there any man here willing to do his lord’s bidding?” right after Faramir expresses some apprehension about a suicide charge with his remaining soldiers, completely ignoring him and implying that he’s not a real man.

LOTR is full of juicy lines beyond curse words, too. One of my absolute favorites is: “Dark have been my dreams of late” as opposed to “I’ve been having nightmares lately.”

Do you see?? It’s poetry. The motif of Shadow and Darkness as if they’re real, physical things, all the lines of poetry pulled straight from the books like Theoden’s “where is the horse and the rider” monologue just before Helm’s Deep.

It’s dignified.

—

This one was a bit harder to, ironically, put into words without doing a full-blown case study into either franchise’s ability to write dialogue and monologues. I didn’t even talk about Ratchet’s several monologues (one of which was done perfectly in the sound booth on the first take) because Jeffrey Combs has a voice like ambrosia.

TLDR: Immersion goes far beyond your vivid setting descriptors and the clothing or the names and languages. I mostly write fantasy and sci-fi and whenever I read or watch fantasy and sci-fi that isn’t meant to be a world different from our own, or about characters who don’t speak modern English, and they go off with modern slang, syntax, and verbal tics, it just feels sloppy and weak. Pay attention to the following:

Syntax

Modern slang and jargon

Filler words/verbal tics

Curse words/curses

Flat, unmotivated vocab

*All of the quotes were from memory because I watch both of these franchises way too often. So apologies if I got any wrong.

[chimeracomicscollective]

Chimera Comics Collective Itch.io Sale!

Hi all! Below the cut is the first set of creators for our itch.io ebook sale, starting this Monday December 2 and running for two weeks. All proceeds will go to the artists! We have several more to introduce as well - this bundle will be QUITE the bang for your buck!

Daughter of the Lilies - @bludragongal

Masked mage Thistle finds herself hired by a band of mercenaries - but the world seems to hate and curse her at every turn. Why does she see herself as a monster?

Hazy London and Nigh Heaven and Hell -@scottycomics

Hazy London is a LGBTQ+ slice of life webcomic about bandmates navigating relationships - and Nigh Heaven and Hell, a medieval horror about trying to kill god. It's safe to say, Scotty can do it all!

Ghost Junk Sickness - @feathernotes and @spacerocketbunny

Trigger and Vahn are bounty hunters in a galaxy full of supernatural mysteries, but their next bounty - the elusive Ghost - might be the key to solve them all.

Heroes of Thantopolis - @strontiumsun

When Cyrus gets mysteriously transported to the City of the Dead, he finds a vibrant and colorful afterlife plagued by troubles. But why did a living boy end up there in the first place?

Godslave - @godslavecomic

When Edith frees an Egyptian god from a canopic jar, she receives some of his power in return for her service. The Egyptian pantheon clashes with the modern day, and Edith's going to have to kick a lot of divine butt.

Phantomarine - @phantomarine

A ghostly princess must sail across a haunted sea to save her soul from a devious death god known as the Red Tide King. But is he as monstrous as she thinks he is? ...Well, yes. But also no? Maybe???

[cityandking]

oc asks: AU ABCs

Same characters, different worlds! Send a letter to learn about an alternate universe.

A. alternate universe. What kind of AU is your OC best suited to? Are there any AUs they're in already? What are they?

B. band au. What is your OC like in a band AU? Are they a performer or a groupie? What instrument would they play? What's their relationship with their bandmates and/or the group(s) they follow?

C. coffee shop au. What would your OC be like in a classic coffee shop AU? Are they at all suited for the barista lifestyle? What's their go-to coffee order?

D. duplicate. How would your OC react to meeting their clone or doppelganger? What if they were a clone or doppelganger? How would they feel about that?

E. education. What would your OC be like in a high school and/or college AU? What would their major be? What would they teach if they were an educator?

F. fey. What kind of fey or fairy creature would your OC be? Would they be in a spooky, intense fairy world or a playful, lighthearted fairy world?

G. gods. What would your OC be the god of? If they were a demi-god, who would their divine parent be?

H. horror. Would your OC survive in a horror situation? What would their role be? How would they deal with being tossed in a horror scenario?

I. intellectual property. Are there any popular series or franchises that your OC is well-suited for? Which 'verse(s) and what makes them so well-suited?

J. (J)RPG. What kind of hero would your OC be in a JRPG (or any other RPG). Would they have any special skills, weapons, or finishing moves? What tier character would they be?

K. kids. Does your OC have kids? What are their kids like? If they don't have kids, would they? What would they be like as a parent?

L. lovers. Does your OC have different partners in different AUs? What might their love life be like in an AU? How would they do in a romance genre, like romantasy or a romcom?

M. multiverse. Are there any points in your OC's life where things could have gone differently? Where else might they have ended up? How would your OC react to crossing the multiverse and meeting another version of themself?

N. normal. What's your OC's normal world like? Are they in a fantasy setting, a sci-fi setting, the modern world? Share a little about your character's normal life.

O. omegaverse. What’s their subgender? What's their scent? How do they feel about it?

P. pacific rim au. What is your OC doing in a Pacific Rim AU? Are they drift compatible with anyone? What would their jaeger be called?

Q. quiet. What would a quiet and peaceful life look like for your OC? Would they enjoy living a simple life or would they get bored?

R. royalty au. How would your OC handle being royalty? If they're already royalty, how would they deal with being a commoner? What kind of royal would your character be?

S. star wars au. What would your OC be like in a Star Wars AU? What era would they be in: sequel, prequel, original trilogy, old republic? Would they be Force sensitive?

T. (star) trek au. What would your OC's role be in a Star Trek AU? Are they part of Starfleet? Another organization?

U. underworld. How would your OC deal with being part of a criminal underworld? Would they be a thief, a spy, a conman? Something else?

V. vigilante au. What would your OC's superpower be? Would they be a hero or a villain? Do they believe that with great power comes great responsibility?

W. werewolves (& vampires). Is your OC more of a vampire or a werewolf? How would they feel about being turned into a creature of the night? Would they be part of a clan, a pack, a coven?

X. (e)xtra. Is there an AU missing from this list? Share something about it! What would your OC be like in that new world, story or scenario?

Y. YA. How would your OC fare in a popular YA franchise, like Hunger Games or Divergent? Would they buy into the system? Fight against it? What would their district/faction/house/etc. be?

Z. zootopia. What animal would your OC be if they were an anthropomorphic animal? Would your OC be a furry? What would their fursona be?

[the-crooked-library]

Blurred Lines: Agency and Victimhood in Gothic Horror

Seeing as Robert Eggers' Nosferatu has just breached a cool $135M at the worldwide box office, it might be as good a time to talk about this as any. I believe I echo the sentiments of most diehard fans of gothic horror when I say this: while we are glad to see this masterpiece meet with well-deserved success, these numbers also mean that a significant proportion of its audience has been previously unfamiliar with the hallmarks of our beloved genre; and the resulting disconnect between the viewers and the source material has been the driving force behind the great majority of the online discourse that surrounds it.

The tools and conventions of the gothic, as a genre, are essential to Nosferatu's primary narrative arc. Its central character, Ellen Hutter, cannot be discussed outside of her literary context. Textually, she balances between heroine and damsel in distress - blurred, in many ways, from mainstream understanding.

That is done entirely on purpose. There are numerous reasons for it; I could go into heavy detail about it; and I will - under the cut, of course.

The main thing I must make absolutely clear (before delving any deeper) is that the gothic genre is fundamentally non-literal. It deals heavily in metaphor, allegory, allusion, obfuscation - and, indeed, the blurred lines that have recently caused so much controversy online. This is by design. It is not a flaw of storytelling or interpretation. The gothic affronts the rigid, black-and-white, mainstream forms of morality because that is what it has always been designed to do; and the newer installments like Nosferatu do the same, being built upon those traditional foundations.

The historical background is therefore essential to the understanding of a gothic narrative. In this, the film does provide the viewer with a relatively easy starting point; its period setting amplifies its connection to its predecessors, as well as the societal pressures and systemic violence that it aims to challenge. It allows the audience to perceive the story through a historical lens that comes pre-installed, as a sort of short-cut to the genre's original social context.

The context, in this case, consists of misogyny, queerphobia, xenophobia, and ableism - which, while rampant even in the modern day, were that much more blatant in 1830s German Confederation, where/when the story largely takes place. Every human character, regardless of who they are, is influenced by these oppressive aspects of their society; and Ellen Hutter is hopelessly entrapped within all four.

Her social situation, as we are given to understand, is precarious. Though she was originally born into wealth, she married down to escape her abusive father. She is an eccentric - her "wild" inclinations (such as having a sense of dignity or loving the outdoors as a child) are enough to cause almost vitriolic disapproval; but on top of that, she was born with a psychic gift, which manifests in a way that is not dissimilar from a mental (and sometimes physical) disability. She and her husband are also English immigrants, and thus perpetual outsiders in Wisborg (this is also one of the reasons Thomas is so anxious to prove himself at Knock's firm, and so keen to emulate Harding in all things); and, finally, she implied to experience queer attraction - which, though non-explicit, repressed, and never truly indulged, still affects her and the way she is continuously treated throughout the film.

Overall, Ellen's existence is perceived, at best, as an inconvenience - and at worst, a scandal. With that, she fits seamlessly into her story's genre.

The "immoral," the forbidden, the taboo is a cornerstone of all gothic fiction. It exists in the doubt between light and dark, harm and desire, love and abuse. It is the domain of sympathetic villains (e.g. Heathcliff, Wuthering Heights), of imperfect victims (Bertha Mason, Jane Eyre), of heroes who are deeply flawed, who cause their own tragedies, and often fail to save anyone at all (Victor Frankenstein, Frankenstein). Within the gothic genre, there are no absolutes; and its contradicting balance of dichotomies provides a reference point - or, more accurately, a cultural triangulation - for exploring the same complexities that a binary puritanical mindset strives to eradicate. These include sexual desire, female autonomy, physical and mental disabilities, classism; in short, anything that gets people wincing.

The popular discussion of these topics is frequently cruel, often avoidant, and rarely straightforward or productive. As stated above, it makes people uncomfortable. It's not pleasant. However, for Ellen (and many people in the real world), it is, quite literally, impossible to avoid. It defines every aspect of her daily life.

What this means for her and for the story is that within a narrative that refuses to gloss over the imperfections of her surrounding society, her victimhood is not thrust upon her by a shadowy figure, emerging from the night. Instead, she is a victim - of an ongoing and systemic, rather than individual, abuse.

This aspect of Ellen's characterization lies at the core of her behaviour throughout the film. She is an unstable chimera of Brontë's Jane Eyre and Bertha Mason - in the sense that her actions are informed, in great part, by her acute awareness of her own disenfranchisement. She alternates between anguished raving and phlegmatic practicality, used to her pain but unable to entirely ignore it; and, the same way that Jane sees all the rage she feels (but cannot afford to express) manifested in Bertha, Ellen finds her counterpart in Orlok.

This is where the ambiguity begins.

Even though Orlok is most certainly a gothic villain, his relationship with Ellen cannot be interpreted as strictly adversarial. Naturally, it would be easy to ascribe their dynamic to grooming and PTSD; however, as previously mentioned, a gothic narrative is never surface-level - and the film itself never furnishes any information that would definitively limit it to that.

Firstly, to get the primary discourse point out of the way - yes, when Ellen and Orlok first meet within the ether, she is indeed young; and later, she is said to have been a child. However, at the time, the term "teenager"did not yet exist; Ellen's younger self is not portrayed by a child actress; and later, in 1838, she is referred to as a child multiple times - despite being an adult, married woman. Overall, within the film, the term is more often used to describe innocence and inexperience, rather than age; and her initial age is never specified. Granted, a multi-century age gap is not exactly "healthy" anyway - but this is a vampire story. It is per the course; and it complicates their relationship beyond a simple victim vs abuser narrative.

Secondly - and perhaps, most importantly - the overall impact of Orlok's coercion tactics falls flat in comparison to Ellen's human-world alternatives. Yes, he argues and threatens; but her social circumstances have never allowed her agency in the first place. Her father abuses, isolates, and threatens to institutionalize her; Thomas dismisses her concerns as "childish fantasies"; Harding and Sievers tie her down and drug her; Harding again kicks her out of the house. Her marriage, her friendships, are therefore all transactional; they grant her an escape from her father's house, relative financial stability, social support - on the condition that she represses her true self, pretends to be normal, doesn't threaten anyone's masculinity or heterosexuality, and acts like she's happy to be a deferring, obedient, settled wife. Being a daughter of a landed gentleman, she would never have been given a working woman's education, and evidently has no income of her own; and so, she has no options except to upkeep her end of the bargain - which means that her continued survival within mainstream society relies on constant background coercion.

Compared to this mundane, socially acceptable horror of her existence, the vampire actually offers her more autonomy than she is ever otherwise accorded. The terms of his covenant never threaten Ellen's own well-being; so on one hand, she has benevolence - and on the other, the dignity of choice.

This contrast lies at the heart of her dilemma. Ellen is torn between what she believes she should be and what she knows - and Orlok knows - she is.

One is "correct," moral, Good; the other is "wrong," sinful, Evil. However, at the same time, the first is manufactured; it is artificially designed, and must be continuously enforced. The second is primal. Natural. In accordance with gothic tradition, the appeal of Orlok is that he is forbidden, yet instinctive. By design, he is a reflection of everything that Ellen is forced to repress on a daily basis. That includes her rage, her ostracism, her abnormalities; but also, her desperate need to be respected, understood, and desired. He is both grotesque and alluring, both a lord and a beast, both cruel and reverent.

"He is my melancholy!.." cries Ellen.

"I am Heathcliff!" whispers Cathy.

Still, while Cathy and Heathcliff are primarily divided by class and racism, Orlok and Ellen are separated by moral considerations. In the explicit sense, Ellen cannot choose the Evil that Orlok represents. Within the surface narrative, she is obligated by her society, her morals, and the story to choose Good - in this case, by nobly sacrificing her individual expendable life to save her husband and a city full of people. Her primary storyline, like everything else, has already been decided for her.

For the Trekkies among us, this is Ellen's own Kobayashi Maru. A no-win scenario. As such, within the context of character analysis, her destination does not matter as much as the little things she does along the way; and it is no accident that, as the film progresses, the subtler, seemingly insignificant choices she makes within that framework just happen to bring her closer - and closer - to Orlok.

All of them are just innocuous enough to almost pass. She places a lock of perfumed hair in a locket that she gives to Thomas - and upon his arrival to the Carpathians, the same locket is immediately claimed by Orlok, who recognizes the scent of lilacs. Before making her sacrifice, she puts on her wedding dress and finds a bouquet of the same flowers - which is the sort of effort she didn't have to perform, especially given that he cannot resist her blood regardless. When Orlok arrives, she chooses to undress them both, and leads him to the bed, even though her previous sex scene with Thomas was entirely clothed; and in the morning, she pulls him close and holds him through the sunrise - even though he was already dying, and would not be able to escape. There was no need for her to touch his rotting flesh at that point, much less caress it.

There can be a "moral" explanation for all these actions; but the lack of direct obligation involved in them becomes increasingly blatant over the course of the story, and the doubt festers.

This sort of lingering ambiguity is precisely where gothic horror thrives - and intersects, scandalously, with romance. Gothic horror, much like bodice-ripper novels, noir thrillers, or "dark romance," builds much of its romantic intensity on the dichotomy of shame and desire. Imagine it, if you will, as a loom; warp and weft. It may even be described as literary BDSM - a continuous, mutually-agreed-upon act of roleplay between the author and their audience, and sometimes the characters themselves (though that depends). The point is to create an outlet for female, queer, or disabled sexualities, all of which are still heavily medicalized and restricted, derided, or denied entirely; and within these often intersecting genres, the violent or coercive intensity of the dominant lead (be it a vampire, a mafia don, or simply a more experienced lesbian) provides their repressed, seemingly passive counterpart an excuse to act upon their demonized erotic urges.

Between the page and the mind, everything that normally complicates a romantic or sexual encounter in the real world (subliminal hints, aggression, repressed and involuntary responses) becomes set dressing - serving to place a particular scene or dynamic within its fictional universe. The resulting Watsonian uncertainty is, naturally, part of the appeal. It is what allows the viewer/reader/listener a sincere emotional and sensual immersion; and for Ellen and Orlok, it provides an appropriately dramatic pretext for a night of tender vampire sex.

The discourse around their joining is painfully similar to the same that drifts around online every winter - in regards to the classic holiday hit, Baby it's Cold Outside. The song, written during an era in which extramarital sexuality was heavily restricted, follows a couple brainstorming excuses for the lady to stay the night; this intention was explicitly stated by both members of the original duet; but that hasn't stopped thousands of people from interpreting it as a "rape anthem." It is unsurprising, then, that an element of horror (guilt, shame, repression, coercion) muddles the water even further.

It's oddly apt, considering that the film premiered on Christmas Day.

Granted, I am not denying that there is an abusive aspect to Ellen and Orlok's connection, romantic or otherwise. However, to reduce Ellen to merely his "victim" is extremely inaccurate to her actual portrayal - because, within the framework of the film, her interactions with Orlok are the few in which she is actually able to exercise some form of agency. She never defers to him, their wedding-death hinges on her free will, as coerced as it may appear; and, in a fascinating subversion of a popular vampire trope, she is the one who summons him.

In gothic media, "Come to me!.." is invariably spoken by a vampire (or a vampire derivative like Erik, Leroux's titular Phantom of the Opera); their counterpart follows helplessly, without question; and giving these lines to Ellen is a dramatic deviation from tradition that fundamentally alters the underlying context of their power balance. By maintaining this call-and-response dynamic throughout the story, Eggers asserts that Ellen isn't helpless; and neither is she "in over her head." She is intelligent, powerful, and she has a tangible influence over Orlok, who is her only equal - which is why, ultimately, she is the one deciding where that relationship is headed.

That is not to say that any alternative readings of the film are entirely incorrect. As I have stated above, the abusive/toxic narrative is definitely present, and even essential, in gothic media. On the Doylist level, it is the equivalent of a whip, or a solid pair of cuffs - essentially, a divestment of responsibility; though, to continue the metaphor, not everyone shares the same kink - and those who do might not all enjoy it the same way, so there's definitely significant variation. What I am trying to say, however, is that each story does come with a central conflict; and Ellen Hutter's victimization - much like Jane Eyre's, like Thomasin's (The Witch, 2015) - is systemic.

She is ostracized, disrespected - infantilized if her oppressors are feeling benevolent, demonized when they are inconvenienced - and still expected to always prioritize her husband/friends/community by default, regardless of how she is treated by them. Her surrounding society, morality, religion, culture all insist upon the same; and this is why, despite knowing that she has done nothing wrong by following her nature, she carries an enormous amount of guilt in regards to those "unacceptable" aspects of herself. It is also the same reason why Orlok - the sensual, cruel, utterly devoted monster - is the answer to her lonely call; and the reason why everyone around her is so eager to see her as his victim, rather than a victim of anything they may have perpetrated themselves. Ellen's is a rich complexity, fed upon centuries' worth of gothic tradition, and she cannot be forced into a flat, genre-inappropriate simplification.

Like The Witch, like NBC Hannibal, like Interview With the Vampire before it - Nosferatu (2024) is a story of self-indulgence being so unfamiliar that it feels like a sin; or, like dying.

I, for one, would not deny her that.

[somethingstrangeinpavalonmeadow]

www.gamespot.com/ps3/action/pavalonmeadow/review.html

6.2 - Fair

Something Strange in Pavalon Meadow is an unbearably tense modern fairy-tale with aesthetics reminiscent of Japanese horror games such as Silent Hill, Resident Evil, and Ringu. It’s packed with beautifully filthy (and just plain beautiful) environments and presents an intriguing mystery.

Unfortunately, its clunky controls, un-intuitive side quests, and glaring bugs make it nigh unplayable.

There’s nothing standing there, right…?

When picturing fantasy elves, most people would imagine a slim, beautiful character with flowing blonde hair and a crown weaved from thin wisps of gold. You’re probably conjuring images of long white robes, glittering chalices, and tall, ethereal beauties.

You’d be better off looking for those guys somewhere around Middle Earth. You won’t find them in the nauseating world of Pavalon Meadow.

RealYou’s Something Strange in Pavalon Meadow offers a modern, unglamorous spin on the typical fairy tale setting. Lush forests and magical kingdoms are juxtapositioned with ramshackle homes and run-down intersections. Here, fairies and satyrs are just as likely to haunt old corner stores (the kind that have bars over their windows) as a glittering wishing pool. Sure, you do eventually venture out of the titular Pavalon Meadow, but even the affluent districts within later areas are permeated with a layer of grime and age. The visuals are without a doubt Pavalon Meadow’s greatest strength.

The game begins with an eerie still of its two protagonists: Anxious shut-in Riley, and plucky witch Yevine. Despite both characters’ presence, only Riley can be selected for now. With Yevine being unlocked later, we’ll be sticking with the former for consistency’s sake.

Our two unlucky heroes.

As Riley, you learn that your uncle has gone missing. An eerie phone call implies that it’s more than the average errand-run. You’ll spend your first hour or so learning the ropes via requests doled out by your neighbors. This is the first big issue: This tutorial is agonizingly long. Even the most basic tasks– I’m talking about a simple sprint, people– have a dedicated quest meant to teach them to players. A word of advice, RealYou: Gamers don’t need their hands held. Most of us can figure out which button makes our character jump!

The afternoon is stuffed with so many chores that I began to wonder if this was truly a horror game. After locating a dog belonging to one of Riley’s older relatives, right as I’d reached the end of my patience with the lengthy tutorial, the park was suddenly bathed in orange– the sun was beginning to go down. Heading back into my own trailer, I couldn’t help but notice how quickly the sun was sinking. Then, Riley’s mother asked him to head down to the store on one more errand.

It was dark out. The intro was over. The real game was finally kicking off.

If the afternoon felt like it was stretching itself out for way too long, the night felt even longer. In fact, that very well may have been the case: the game operates on a constant clock, but said clock was pretty inconsistent. In fact, I’m fairly certain it was randomized entirely! As you’ll soon come to understand, it’s hard to say whether it’s due to a coding error, or if it’s intentional. At any rate, the swap could be considered a more frequent, lower-stakes version of Silent Hill’s infamous otherworldly transformation. NPCs and enemies have their own schedules and rotate out depending on the time of day. We’ll touch on that later.

After cautiously roaming the dead silent street for a few minutes, we are next introduced to arguably the most important mechanic in the game. Dungeons and Dragons nerds will be familiar with the “darkvision” ability that many of its supernatural races possess, including elves. It’s just what it sounds like; the power to see clear as day in the dark. Sounds like the quickest way to kill any tension in a horror scenario, doesn’t it? Keeping things dark and stormy is taught in Building Tension 101.

Oh, that’s not ominous.

Well, there’s a catch to this too-good-to-be-true ability. I had mentioned that an elf like Riley can see in the dark. But we aren’t elves. That’s right: in an admittedly unique twist, the characters are able to perceive things that the players themselves cannot. This is used surprisingly well – these otherwise pace-halting sequences don’t occur so often that they become annoying and they also aren’t so sparse that they feel pointless. While we’re discussing gameplay, however, there’s a pretty massive elephant in the room that desperately needs addressing.

The controls!

Many old survival horror games are rather infamous for their iconic “tank” controls. They’re clunky, yes, but they can be adjusted to with time. I can’t say the same for Pavalon Meadow. Ostensibly it plays just like any current-gen, over-the-shoulder horror joint. But controlling Riley? The more accurate word for it is “puppeteering”. For some ungodly reason, there is a noticeable delay when pushing him in any direction, as if he’s connected to a string. It can be immensely frustrating when dying to a group of enemies because he didn’t want to respond to your inputs quickly enough. At first, I wondered if my TV or my console might be the cause of the input lag, but trying it out on my backup setup yielded the same results. Gunplay is just as difficult, but the game implies that Riley isn’t very experienced with firearms, so I can forgive this a little more. In fact, the shaky aim and harsh recoil noticeably improved as the game progressed, meaning that this feature is, I think, intentional. I can’t say whether the same is true when it comes to the movement, but either way it’s seriously going to affect players’ enjoyment of the game.

While traversing the area, however much Riley fights you on it, you’ll want to note the various NPCs floating around each area during both day and night. Speaking with and assisting as many of your neighbors as possible, while not vital to unraveling the central mystery, can make all the difference when it comes to surviving upcoming enemy encounters. About halfway through your adventure, the difficulty spike is sudden and intense. If you haven’t been bothering to upgrade your arsenal, you’re going to feel it. You’ll want to make use of the helpful items you receive in return for completing side quests before you miss their window. Skipping out on the sidework won’t make the game impossible per se, but it gets pretty darn close.

Vital as they are, far too many of these chores travel down the “high risk, low reward” route. If you’re only in this for the main story, or perhaps you simply don’t care about these people’s problems (you monster!), fulfilling some of these requests straight up isn’t worth it.

This had better be good.

Let’s examine one of these detours to illustrate what I mean. One of the many NPCs in need of assistance is Riley’s neighbor, a fairy named Lanmei. She wanders the trailer park all afternoon and the forest at night offering useful healing spells. Speak with her every day and she’ll eventually mention missing a friend who suddenly moved away. Seems simple, right? Just find another fairy, report back to your neighbor, collect your reward, and move onto the next good deed. If only things were that simple! Not only are you given absolutely no hint as to where to look– or even what the boy looks like– but you may also be caught off-guard by the hidden time limit. Yes, nearly every quest has a limited window to complete. It’s possible to fail quests before even discovering them, and some characters can face consequences of varying severity. The poor girl’s fate upon failure is particularly disturbing. Guess how I found that out?

One reloaded save later I was led nearly as far from the park as you can get, to what might just be the most difficult area in the game. It’s a mansion, and its surroundings are swarming with some of Pavalon Meadow’s toughest baddies. The awkward puppet-like controls are more noticeable than ever as you try to guide your gangly elf through throngs of monsters and hostile NPCs that were all blessed with eagle eyes. The oft-uncooperative stealth mechanic made moving from room to room even more of a slog. And the worst part? Assuming you don’t give up before sneaking into the boy’s room, receiving his memento for Lanmei, sneaking back out, and traveling all the way back to the park, your reward for all that trouble is laughable: A few high potions and a couple thousand gold (An amount that won’t get you much in this world).

This sadly isn’t anywhere near the only example of the game’s lackluster side dishes, but it was one of the most frustrating. I don’t need things to be a cakewalk, but this would have been much more doable if players had been given more direction, and if the reward was proportional to the herculean effort it took to complete it. I need more than the sense of a job well done to make my work feel worthwhile!

Hmm...

Rushed side quests aren’t Pavalon Meadow’s only big problem. Throughout the entire game, beautifully rendered models suffer from severe clipping, especially long hair. Too many times, I was taken out of a frightening moment upon noticing Riley’s hair poking out of his back like angry little teeth, and Yevine’s long hair was almost always sticking through her midsection like an apron. Aside from the visual complaints, I encountered some pretty glaring bugs fairly often. Honestly, it had me wondering if there was any kind of quality control at RealYou. The most annoying of all was a consistent crash when traveling between areas too fast, a side-effect of mashing the X button while waiting for Riley to slowly careen into the door, causing me to desperately wish for some sort of quicksave button.

Most bizarrely, I would occasionally encounter an unnamed elf lurking in particularly dark corners. At first, I assumed he was another one of Riley’s hallucinations (it’s a long story) or maybe a rare NPC encounter. But he was impossible to interact with and not a single other character mentioned anyone like him. He’d pop up in just about any area, even during the day, but whatever it seemed to be leading up to never came to fruition. It seemed to me that he was part of a scrapped story line. I also wondered if I was simply overthinking a creepy easter egg, aside from the fact that his presence really messed up the FPS and would occasionally even cause some textures to frankly freak out. Honestly, with the slipshod presentation, the possibilities are endless.

Sloppy coding, to be sure, but it’ll certainly make a great urban legend someday. Maybe the kiddies fifteen years from now will be swearing that the mysterious elf NPC was appearing in their other games?

I want to love Pavalon Meadow. Its opening captivated me right away, the darkvision mechanic is delightfully stressful, and the beauty of its environments cannot be overstated. There are so many nooks and crannies that I left out, not only as a surprise for future players, but to keep this review from getting any longer than it already is. On the other hand, it seems that RealYou is putting too much of their focus on the glossy exterior. If you begin to to dig into the meat of it, not even very deeply, it’s clear that there’s still lots of work to do. As of writing, the negatives outweigh the positives in a big way. RealYou clearly hoped to invoke Grimm’s fairy tales held up in a modern light, but unfortunately, it just isn’t fun.

Something Strange in Pavalon Meadow is set to release this holiday season.

(written by @dbdonryo, 'lanmei'/ringabell the fairy belonging to her as well)

[bonebrokebuddy]

I get that this is due to people not read comics but, if you want a fun lighthearted batfam dynamic, I cannot recommend enough putting your story and characters in the Silver Ages. I see so much fanon material that would fit in this setting perfectly and it pains me that it’s not more popular or well known.

If you don’t know what the silver age of comics is, I’d recommend checking out this article!

And here for the 1956 Comics Code Authority.

It might not be in continuity anymore but the silver ages were such a large era of comics that defined the characters. And the format & restrictions of the silver ages allows you to easily bypass several common issues folks have with plots. In modern comics, there’s constant interpersonal drama because there has to be, if you resolve all those issues then you can’t sell more comics & they lose a lot of tension.

But due to the Comic Code Authority that is no longer an issue!

Randomly ignoring a dark past that makes connection between characters difficult [the poor aging of Jason’s bag of heads making it difficult for him to reunite with the rest of the batfam, for example] because it doesn’t fit with the theme you want?:

Comics are episodic in this era. Think of it like a early 2000s TV show. Things that happened in past comics/episodes often won’t affect the current story at all as the setting resets to default at the start of every comic. Additionally, literally all gore, torture, or explicit descriptions of murder is banned due to CCA restrictions, so you can choose to have it simply never have happened!

Characters that don’t fit at all in a story but you want a crossover for?:

The Silver Ages had SO MANY crossovers of heroes solely bc it sold comics. How compatible they are doesn’t matter in the slightest. The thinnest of reasons why they met works perfectly. You can even just have the characters know each other already and go “I know who can help me with this case! [Insert character you want here]! I met them in my last trip to Antarctica!” You only need maybe one sentence, two if you’re feeling frisky, to explain why they met and then you’re free to run wild.

Want a character to randomly acquire a superpower or meet a long lost cousin they have for one comic and then it’s never mentioned again?

I cannot state how frequently this happens. Silver Age comics were pretty much written cover first. Meaning the cover was made and the story was written after with the philosophy of “if my comic cover is more bizzare and eye catching then kids will buy it!” Like, there are multiple comics where Superman’s head got turned into an ant and Batman gets powers practically every other World’s Finest issue. Like it’s not even an “au” to do these things. That’s just what the Silver Ages were like.

Comic science and comic physics run rampant as well as bizarre villains! You can have so much fun with this!! Heroes often play the straight-man in bizarre scenarios with over-the-top villains in this era, making that aspect shine brightly can make for an inherently funny plot. You could either keep it fun and light or turn it into a psychological horror as the characters realize they can’t disobey the CCA code and have to follow a specific plot.

Also the restrictions of the CCA at the time would also help create some fun and unique plots if you wanted to keep the plot time-period accurate.

There’s a lot of restrictions but there are still many ways to create conflict in your fic! Plenty can come from the CCA directly!

Canon or HC LGBT+ characters could be pressured to not come out or face tremendous backlash. Time accurate homophobia, essentially.

McCarthyism and paranoia ran wild. Oh no someone suspected your blorbo of being a communist/socialist and now it’s ruining their life!

Characters dealing with how the CCA’s restrictions/their reality is inherently bigoted and can’t be themselves. (See: comics on topics of racial & religious prejudice aren’t allowed, characters can’t speak in “slang” or “vulgar language” and “good grammar” is emphasized (often targeting minorities), and the sanctity of family must be respected (no divorce, no queer people).

Also! Crazy over-the-top villains with deadly stakes are played with a lighthearted tone. Play it straight and suddenly your comic changed genre into horror if you think about it for more than a second.

Characters that used to be antihero’s are just straight up villains now or suddenly wake up with massive gaps in their memory and no one else can tell them why. There is no grey with the CCA. Just good and evil. Because that would make the villains sympathetic and we can’t have that!

If you want to just have a fun, campy and lighthearted tone however, that’s the Silver Age’s bread and butter. While keeping the CCA’s code in mind is good to keep a Silver Age story feeling time accurate and Silver Age-y, it’s definitely not necessary to follow each and every rule.

Here’s some more links to free silver age comics and places you can go to find information on silver age comics if you want to learn more that aren’t fandom wikis but rather made by nerds with a passion to catalogue and share their interest to others.

Your local library has a decent chance of having an omnibus of 50s-70s comics or you can order one from a nearby library if your local one doesn’t carry them.

A local comic shop or bookstore. Silver age omnibuses & “50 year anniversary/best of” type collections are usually present and have a good variety of silver age comics.

Jenny Blake Isabella (the creator of Black Lightning) has delightful reviews of the Batman Silver Age Omnibus on her blog that add context, critiques, and overall are a delight to read

Takes some hunting but this Silver Age Comic blog has a bunch of single issue reviews of Silver Age Batman comics.

Want a specific issue to read? Here’s super brief summaries of soso many issues curtesy of The Comics Archives blog.

The Internet Archive also has a few:

Batman & Superman world's finest. The Silver Age. Volume one

Justice League of America, the Silver Ages volume 1

Batman: the dynamic duo archives. vol 2 (I cannot find volume 1)

A good tip to find legal and free comics decently intact is to search [comic run title/character hero name & issue number if you have it] + “blog” + “review”.

There are so many in-depth reviews of comics in blogs by comic fans out there that practically share most of the comic panels in the post while giving context to past issues while the poster adds personal insight and opinions on the comic. Is it going to give you the whole issue unfiltered? No. But it allows newbies to get insight from old fans and old fans to get a new perspective on a comic they’ve already read. Blog reviews are such an underrated way to get new fans into comics considering how great of a resource they are! Don’t know if you’ll like a comic run? Read a bunch of reviews on it from different blogs! It’s truly so underrated.

I see a lot of dc fans that don’t read the comics because they don’t like the violence and dark tone of modern comics or don’t know where to start. Simple solution: Why are you reading reading modern comics then? Give the Silver Ages a try! They’re utterly corny and campy & I love them dearly.

They fit all of those bills with the CCA. Plus, with the episodic stories of that era, you can just pick up an omnibus, open it at a random issue and start reading. Hell, you can toss a stack of silver age issues in the air 52-pickup style and read them that way and you’re still be fine. You rarely, if ever, need knowledge from previous comics as they’ll often directly explain what happened to you. If you really need previous context, just like modern comics, they’ll directly tell you which issue(s) to read first.

Lastly.

It’s good to keep in mind the “By it’s time. For its time. Of its time” rule of comic analysis when reading old runs. Comics are: relevant during their time of publishing, for its intended audience (in this era, young american boys with a non-nuanced worldview) & with little care of how it’ll age, just that it’ll sell.

How history ties itself to comics is fascinating but also it’s good to be a little “👀👀 uh zoinks scoob that was a bad narrative or character decision that didn’t age well” and not dismiss it because that poor interpretation does have historical value as how it shows the moral, social, and political conflicts of the time in a neat little bow. Even if that bow is like, puke green.

Writers of comics will follow the misogynistic and racist ideals along the historical & social conflicts and ideals during the time of the comic’s publishing date. It’s uh, just kinda something ya gotta deal with when reading a lot of old comics runs. Most collections of silver age Batman/best ofs don’t often have comics that aged super badly but if you end up encountering any, it’s good to keep this in mind.

If anyone is inspired to write something based off of this, please tag me so I can read it!

[featherwurm]

SO! It's no secret I love David Bowie - sometimes I just put on my a playlist of his entire discography and listen to it over the course of a couple days. Because I'm still deep in my BG3 brainrot - here's all the companions in the Modern AU (no appreciable differences to their cannon setting just modern trappings) rocking out and what I think their favorite Bowie Albums would be, with a few words that I think sum up some of the overall themes of those albums that match those characters (I also think they would each like the musical genre of the selected albums).

Astarion – Man Who Sold the World/Diamond Dogs (Glam Rock/Hard Rock) Decay, Defeat, Ennui

Wyll – Black Tie White Noise/"Heroes" (Art Rock/Jazz Rock/R&B/Soul) Love, Warmth, Triumph

Gale – The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars/Reality (Glam Rock/Proto-Punk/Pop) Stardom, Grief, Burnout

Shadowheart – Blackstar/Heathen (Jazz Rock/Experimental Rock) Crisis, Death, Acceptance (and faith/crisis thereof, of course)

Karlach – Let's Dance/Aladdin Sane (Hard Rock/Post-Disco/Dance Rock) Conflict, Service, Duty

Tav – Low/The Next Day (Electronica/Ambient/Art Rock) Resignation, Aggression, Solitude (These are also my TOP favorites since she's my character, but it's very hard to pick and I like his whole discography.)

Lae’zel – Earthling/Never Let Me Down (Industrial Rock/Jungle/Hard Rock) Alienation, Wonder, Curiosity

Minthara – Outside/The Buddha of Suburbia (Experimental/Industrial Rock/Avant-garde Jazz) Violence, Confusion, Horror

Halsin – Hours/Young Americans (R&B/Funk) Patience, Memory, Loneliness

Jaheria – Tonight/Hunky Dory (Dance/Art Rock/Pop Rock) Loyalty, Trust, Remembrance

Minsc – Lodger/David Bowie (New Wave/Music Hall/Baroque Pop) Head Trauma, Unease, Immaturity (I also just think the idea of him bopping around to ‘Love You 'Till Tuesday’ is very funny)

Of course I could do an '...in this essay I will...' bit but I'm at least trying to be brief...

[victoriadallonfan]

Lets Talk: The Predator Franchise

About two months ago, I put my thoughts into my feelings on the Alien Franchise, and why I felt that they've been faltering so much.

It felt only fitting that I do the same for the Predator franchise, but I ran into a very curious thing... there's only one bad Predator movie.

A shocking statement, I know, but I'm not counting the AVP movie series (that's it's own separate thing). The Predator (film) is easily the only bad film in the entire series, but I'll get to that later.

First things first: lets talk about Predator (1987).

It's an all time classic, a great deconstruction of the 80's action film, with insanely quotable dialogue and memorable characters - not just the Predator itself, but all the human characters are easily recognizable.

Unlike the Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986), Predator is not predominantly a horror film, nor is it emphasizing a tough topic such as sexual assault. It does HAVE horror aspects (the first time they find the skinned corpses is intensely unnerving, especially when they realize that this group of marines apparently lost all self-control and fired in all directions), and it does touch a bit on how the US government is using its own soldiers as cannon fodder to destabilize third-world countries.

But it's not really built to scare the viewer so much as to present a simple idea: what if these action heroes met a bigger, stronger, more advanced version of themselves? And the result is a near total party wipe.

Watching the original film, you realize that the Predator is depicted as incredibly unfair. The majority of its kills are it sniping someone from afar, rushing them when they aren't even looking (while cloaked), and doing a combination of the above. It would have killed Arnold while his back was turned, if the net trap hadn't been set in place.

Hell, it even kills a wounded soldier that Arnold is carrying, after Billy's "last stand" (that lasted mere moments at best, implying the Predator didn't give him the time of day).

(Also, speaking of Billy... he's psychic? Apparently?)

But yeah, the Predator depicted is not the honor clad warrior that some fans may stan (and some writers believe) but more like the equivalent of Counter-Strike hacker. The fact that it takes Arnold untold amounts of traps, ingenuity, and willpower for the Predator to finally face him man to man, no tech, no weapons is meant to be a testament to how impressive Arnold is.

Likewise, the Predator decides to blow himself the fuck up while cackling manically like a supervillain as he tries to finally kill Dutch, also opens him to showing that as alien as it is, it's remarkably human. A spite filled asshole of a human, but humanish nonetheless (amplified by him copying human speech on prior occasions).

It's a really great film about how alien life, if more advanced than our own, might see us as lesser people or outright livestock to hunt (keep a pin in that).

Predator 2 (1990) is often divided amongst fans.

Some hate the fact that it takes place in the "modern day" LA, instead of sticking to the blazing heat of the jungle (as the lore of the first movie implies that the Predator or a Predator visits at the hottest time of the season to create the local bogeyman figure), but this film does a fine job justifying the LA heatwave and honestly... the idea of keeping the Predator to one type of biome is pretty limiting. So I don't mind that.

As one can tell already, I don't think this movie is bad. As good as the first? No, it rehashes a bit too much for that. But it's still a fun and good movie.

And, notably, scarier.

But for context, Predator 2 is set in the far future of... uh, 1997 LA, where there has been open warfare between the LAPD and the Jamaican and Colombian Cartels. Like, not drug busts or stings, but actual warfare with armies of gangs and shit.

The late 80's and early 90's loved to depict LA as a dystopian hellscape where "law and order" was the only defense from total anarchy (as anyone who has ever lived in LA can tell you, racial tensions, especially between the public and police have not been good to say the least).

This entire setup is like a D.A.R.E nightmare or wet dream depending on who's asking.

(Also the Jamaican drug leader, King Willy, might also be psychic? This is the last time it's brought up, but man, I sort of wish we could see future plot lines where people are randomly psychic in these films.)

Anyways, the situation is certainly perfect for this Predator (named City Hunter to differentiate between Jungle Hunter), who takes to the city with a gusto. The difference in how the Predator is portrayed is fascinating, because the bare bones remain the same: he hunts people who are deemed as sport with alien technology.

Fitting with the ultra-violent theme of this film however, this Predator feels like a legitimately horror movie monster. Unlike the Jungle Hunter, City Hunter doesn't prefer to attack from afar, but rather ripping and tearing in close quarters combat, and when he does use ranged weaponry, it's stuff like spears, bladed discs, and nets that shred people into bloody messes.

And he's 110% a bigger asshole that Jungle Hunter: when the City Hunter decides to focus on our lead man, Danny Glover, he doesn't just hunt the man but psychologically torture him. He murders his partner - who is probably the least threatening human in the entire series - just so he can taunt Glover with his necklace at his own grave. He then copies the innocent words of a child just so he can use it as a creepy catchphrase when he decides to hunt Glover's other partners.

The iconic subway massacre perfectly exemplifies both aspects of the City Hunter. He interrupts a massive stand-off between armed civilians, gang members, and the police, just wading in and killing everyone indiscriminately as people frantically scream and claw over each other trying to escape.

(Speaking of, this film does have a LOT of fun having the Predator on modern sets. The above subway scene, City Hunter investigating a meat locker, and him performing emergency surgery in an apartment bathroom are all really cool).

Also, for being so divisive, this film creates a lot of Predator lore: the Predator won't kill (unarmed) children, he won't kill pregnant women, and he WILL kill the elderly if they are packing heat.

And this includes the trophy wall (with xenomorph skull - actually funny because we never see a Predator collect a xenomorph skull in the AVP films) and that the Predator tribe will honor and respect those who defeat their kind with a reward.

It does include that the government is aware of the Predator existence and tries to capture them, but this won't be a major plot line again until The Predator (2018) though it gets some tongue in cheek reference in Predators (2010).

Anyways solid film, lots of cheesey scenes and very tropey stuff that hasn't aged well (or aged in a way that makes it amusing). It's also that last movie that actually tries to be true horror, in my opinion. The rest of the films stick to Action with Gore, but Predator 2 is truly the last film where you feel like this was written to be a horror film.

Also, this film will be the last to really play into the world as being an overly dramatic action movie earth. It's all realism from here.

And then the film franchise will go quiet until 2004 and 2008 for the AVP films (that I won't cover here).

Finally, we get to Predators (2010), and obvious title call back to Aliens (1986) and I have to say, a pretty good trio of ideas: The human targets are actually kidnapped and dropped on a safari planet, there are multiple Predators with their own unique designs and gimmicks, and there is a internal war between the Bad Bloods (aka the Predators who break the "honor code") and the 'normal' Predator clans.

(It should be noted that Bad Bloods have been a thing for years in comics and books, but not really in the mainstream until this film introduced it to movie audiences)

I have to say, despite having a fondness for the film and loving the new ideas, this film is not as enjoyable as Predator or Predator 2. It unfortunately suffers from what I call 2010ism, where there's a lot of CGI blood/gore, a lot of lighting/shadows aren't natural in a horror sense, and the dialogue isn't memorable because it wanted to ditch the action movie dialogue.

The last part isn't necessarily too bad, and it even works with how Adrian Brody is portrayed as a cynical asshole who is purposely meant to be the opposite of Arnold in every way. But the most memorable dialogue is definitely from Walter Goggins (including his highly disturbing "bitch raping time" speech).

Also, it really wastes Topher Grace, Laurence Fishbourne, and Danny Trejo, along with the whole idea of a gang of multinational killers/soldiers/enforcers forced to work together. Not nearly enough time is given to them to bond as a team and have a moment where they show off how cool they are like Predator and Predator 2 did.

Coupled with the safari world being just... a jungle, it feels like a lot of good ideas with "safe" execution.

I don't mean to rag on the film, it's still very fun, and a lot of that is due to the Bad Bloods.

The idea of a particular group of Predators being so evil that they are even warring with their (smaller) counterparts is a great idea, imo, and these Bad Bloods are memorable for their gimmicks.

You had one who used drones as "falcons" to scan and scout out large tracks of terrain, another who employed alien "hounds" to harass humans like a fox hunt, and the leader who had a rapid-fire plasma caster that was overpowered as hell. They also employed other tech like alien bear traps, net traps, and voice decoys.

This movie definitely had the most advanced Predator tech seen on film at the time, making the Jungle Hunter and City Hunter look low tech by comparison, and I think also served to try and force the idea of the Bad Bloods being really "unfair" compared to others.

And of course, we get our first Predator vs Predator fight, which was suitably graphic and badass. Also, I liked that one Predator died by a human pulling a suicide vest attack. Idk, I thought it was pretty ironic considering that's what predators do when they are about to lose, and thought it was neat.

Ultimately, there isn't much else to say about Predators (2010), even though the film ends on a cliffhanger with more people (and aliens) being dropped on the planet. I enjoyed it, it had a lot of cool ideas, cool tech, and cool lore... but if the prior films could be compared to novels, this one felt more like a guidebook.

And now... eight years pass and we get The Predator (2018)

Where do I begin with this movie.

I guess I start with the obvious: it's bad. It's a genuinely awful movie with few redeeming qualities. I'd say it's on the tier of Alien: Resurrection, except this movie is actually offensive because of autism ableism (turns out that autism is actually the next step of human evolution and makes you naturally predisposed to using Predator technology).

And don't get me started on the sex offender controversy.

Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. It's just that this movie... jesus christ, I rewatched it for this post, and it feels like a fever dream.

The Predator (2018) ultimately, is a film that looked at everything that came before it and said, "What if we did it all on a grander scale? And make it bad?" The plot is that a Predator is being hunted by an even larger, more powerful Predator, because it plans on harvesting humanity. You see, in this movie, some Predators use the genes of animals they hunt to improve themselves. The Super Predator as he is called, is a massive 10 foot tall monster that has turned his body into a super weapon, with technology built directly into his biology.

The Good Predator arrives on Earth to warn humanity and deliver a "Predator Killer" suit of Iron Man armor that will help humanity defend the Earth from the oncoming invasion force. The Super Predator wants humanity harvested because... autism makes them super geniuses.... and he declares that a 12 year old boy with autism to be the greatest Predator he's ever met... just because he has autism...

Look, I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to describe the plot of this movie. It's just bad. It's stupid. At one point they turn a Predator hound good by giving it a bullet lobotomy.

It feels like this movie hates everyone. It hates the Predators, literally killing off the Good Predator not even halfway through the film. It hates the cast, because all of them are forgettable except for Olivia Munn and Super Predator, and it kills the mystique of the Predators because it has Super Predator monologue like an actual supervillain.

The dialogue is genuinely awful, the actors have no chemistry, and the comedy (oh yes, this film acts like a comedy on several occasions) is the definition of cringe. I would call it "ChatGPT writes Predator" but honestly, ChatGPT could do it better.

Let it be known that my words do not do how awful this movie is justice. You can only understand how bad it is by watching it, but it's absolutely NOT worth the time.

Is there anything good about this movie? Besides the Holiday Special on home release?

The effects are pretty good. We see a lot of high tech Predator stuff and that's always cool. I think this had the highest budget of any of the films and it shows.

There's an action set-piece where Good Predator escapes from a government facility and uses an M4-Assault Rifle which is badass. One of the best action scenes in the movie and a neat tie-back to the government investigating them.

The Super Predator is a cool concept and I actually enjoyed him for a large part of the film. I liked that he could just pick up a human like a toy and gut him like a fish before tossing him aside. I love the idea of a Predator that isn't a hunter, but rather a soldier sent in to fuck shit up, showing off the different tech. Really gives the impression that their society has different roles and tech for Predators beyond hunting.

I wish they gave him a helmet and didn't let him monologue like a supervillain.

And that's it. That's the good stuff. Nothing else matters. It says a lot that I don't think Super Predator or the autism plot has been accepted into lore in comics or books.

It's even been argued that this film was deemed non-canon because of how abysmal the reception was.

Suffice to say, after this awful film, fans were pretty low spirit. Which made it all the more surprising when Prey (2022) was released 4 years later.

There was a lot of drama about this film: the franchise is dead, why is the film so woke for including woman and minorities, how can any human expect to beat a Predator with a bow?

This drama is stupid and should rightfully be mocked.

Prey (2022) was a breath of fresh air for the franchise and I'd argue the best film in terms of quality.

It quite literally goes back to the roots of the series and does something that really elevated the film: it made the Predator symbolise something!

This film takes place in the 18th century on the Great Plains, following Naru the Commanche healer who dreams of being a hunter. Meanwhile, a young Predator - known as the Feral Predator for his aggression - is dropped on the planet for his first ever hunt.

Obviously, you can see the parallels between the two as Naru learns to use tricks and tools to handle her weaknesses, while Feral uses brute-force and high tech equipment to slaughter the animals and humans of the planet. The Bear hunt scene, where Naru is forced to flee from a bear and helplessly watch Feral kill the creature with it's bare hands (haha), thus condemning her in his eyes as not a threat is perfect character foil.

Also, he's such a piece of shit, cheating the moment he feels like his prey has the better of him. But in a good way that makes sense for his character.

But on the grander scale, the Predator represents colonialism. A secondary antagonist of the film are the French fur trappers, who have been skinning wild buffalo and depriving the commanche of their food source, openly compared to the Predator skinning animals/humans for trophies instead of resources.

It's actually a lesson Naru has to learn from her brother and mother, that to become a true hunter is about doing so to support a community, not just for ego and idolization.

Its no accident that the Fur Trapper leader dies when Naru sabotages his gun and Feral dies when Naru does the same to his gun as well, with both of them trapped and crippled without any means of escaping their demise.

This film finally moves to make the Predators feel like evil villains who are supremely selfish, much like the first 2 films emphasized (and the third film did to a lesser extent).

But talk of how amazing Naru is as a protagonist and how great the Feral predator is as an antagonist, the film is just good. The cinematography is gorgeous, the actors are great, the Predator effects and costume are terrifying, and lore wise, it does a lot to show that the Predator society is not stagnant.

They evolve over the years and it shows.

And my god are the action scenes incredible. The Predator vs Fur Trapper fight is probably one of the most iconic scenes in the entire franchise now, and for good reason.

Or Naru's knife fight massacre

All in all, this film really shows that the Predator films can be more that action films and... whatever the fuck The Predator (2018) was trying to be.

These films can be used to explore the history of humanity and symbolize concepts that deal with oppression, bigotry, and dehumanization.

The title of Prey - the focus on making the protagonists human - versus the Predator title is incredibly fitting.

While a sequel is left up in the air, we do have confirmation that a new standalone film - titled merely Badlands - is set to come out soon.

I can only hope they learned the right lessons from Prey and we can leave the horrid past of The Predator (2018) behind us for good.

[aphroditesmoon]

death grips

modern!jacaerys velaryon x fem!vampire!reader.

summary: you live vicarously through passing mortal's eyes as a creature of the night, doomed to a life of immortality, and jacaerys is the hand that extends, an opportunity you're reluctant to welcome.

warnings: biting, blood drinking, descriptions of assault, mentions of self harm, vampire esque violence, writer!reader, reader's characterization is highly inspired from the book "Woman, eating."

wc; 5.7k

special dt for my babe @hxtd

YOU HAVE NEVER felt so hungry. It has been at least two weeks and a half since you fed.

You have suffered longer weeks before, impressive lengths of starvation that you held on to the same way mortals do with air. It was a test at first. You wanted to see how far you could take it, how much until it would finally kill you.

The answer was disappointing. You had walked around the city aimlessly for almost 3 months, staggering as you moved, hands trembling and eyes wild as your stomach churns and begs for blood.

But you did not die. You merely suffered like a living corpse.

Once the realization set in, the starving had soon morphed into a form of self-destruction. A penance you inflicted upon yourself.

Death would never take you. No matter how hard you've tried, your curse was to never have an end to your suffering.

Even as the scars healed and the monsters died. The sorrows and the horrors you've endured replays themselves like clockwork in your mind everyday.

To try and enjoy life like humans do was impossible. Life did not feel worth living when you've died a thousand times, but your body refused to rot.

You thought you knew grief when your mother died, but the universe played a cruel joke on you on the day you were turned a vampyr. A young girl you were, still growing, and kept growing even after you were turned. And yet once you turned 18, your body's growth froze itself, and you then had to learn how to mourn the girl that you were, and the girl you could've been if it had just never happened.

Now, you merely endured.

I've grown weaker somehow, you thought to yourself. The pit of your stomach burned as you rested your head against the hard brick of the nightclub building. You could hear the loud music bouncing through the walls, the tunes so vivid in your ears.

You figured you'd make your attack inside, surrounded by drunken visions and easy targets. No one looked twice at the girl with her face buried a random person's neck in a club at saturday night. But then you heard him before you felt him. His ragged breathing. He watches from afar, predatory eyes and a perverse mind, coming up with ways he would entrap you.

So you make your way to the side of the building where the wind is soft against your skin, making a rise of goosebumps. And like a dog, he followed you.

He thinks he's quiet with his steps, but you can hear arrogance a mile away, and with those impatiently big steps, you feel bloodlust in your veins and on your tongue. You clench your jaw as you feel his presence next to you.

"What are you doing out here when the fun's all inside." His scratchy voice spoke up. You could smell the vodka coming out of his breath, and more importantly, you coulf smell the tangy metallic scent of his blood.

You moved only your gaze up to meet his eyes. And at once, you were ready to pounce. He was so near. So big and so weak, unknowing on what is about to happen. But as his quick hands moved to snake around your waist, another voice intervened, suprising both of you.

"I would think twice before touching her." The other man spoke.

He looked straight at your meal, standing only a few steps away from him. When did he get so close? You did not hear him.

"Walk away man, this is my girl." Your almost victim answered back in annoyance. You tilted your head to get a better view of your supposed hero, curiosity overcoming the hunger.

"Right, that's why you were staring off at her for 3 whole minutes from the other side of the road before you got here." He sassed back.

"Why the fuck were you staring at me for 3 whole minutes ass face." Your meal shouted, his patience thinning.

You wanted to shove his face against the concrete when he had the audacity to grip your waist. But instead, you just cracked his fingers apart from you as he yelped out in pain. "The fuck-"

"Walk away until your legs fail you and forget this ever happened." You muttered at his face before pushing him off of you.

The shock in his fave dissolves slowly, he turns to the other man and back at you in confusion before walking off like you compelled him to.

You watched him until he disappeared from your eyesight, hunger returning again, now that the entertainment has ended. Maybe you'll just eat this one, you thought.

No, you shook your head slightly. You don't kill good men. But a bite would not hurt.

"Are you alright?" He asked you, you could tell the concern was genuine. He neared you until he could see you clearly under the night sky.

He had a regal looking face, one could even say royalty, and a tinge of sincerity in his eyes that added to his charm. You nodded your head once and looked him up and down.

"Not to sound like that kind of guy, but being in a dark, empty space alone in a place like this is like a death wish, isn't it?" The corners of his eyes crinkles as he questions you.

"Maybe I'm suicidal." You retorted in a monotonous voice. "And this is really how you wanna go?"

A smile forces its way on your face, no more arguments left in you.

"Does my saviour have a name?" You shouldn't have asked. Not when you're planning to drain him in a few minutes. As much as your kind claims to be the creature of the night. When the doors are closed and the bloodstains are washed off, guilt washes over you the same way they do to anyone. Attachment is never a good idea.

"Jace. Jacaerys." He had a small smile of his own. "Jacaerys." You enunciated every word with a raised brow. "You must be someone's rich son with that kind of name."

His face flushes and he immediately shook his head, eager to change the subject. "And what's your name?"

You gave him your real first name and felt a small sense of freedom released from your hollow soul.

Everything went quiet then. He looked at you as if he had more to say but his lips were currently sewn. It was either now or never, you've done this a million times, and your aim isn't to kill anyways. But at this very moment, you just noticed that you had completely tuned out the music, the honking cars and the chattering voices. You only heard your own slow beating heary, thumping gently by your chest.

----

Everyone has a little voice inside of them. The voice of reason, voice that intrudes, the voice that weighs the good and evil.

But the voice in your head took the form of the younger version of yourself on th day you were turned. Tha child had been strongly hurt. And you'd like to think that you've quite moved on from what happened, and yet, stuck in your nervous system, like a ghost that haunts, she speaks to you like she is her own person, apart from you.

And as of right now, as you let Jacaerys walk you home, the voice is yelling out insults and scratching at imaginary doors as if imprisoned.

He isn't like that. You tell her. I can tell, i can see it in him.

The voice gives up, all she does is ask one last question before you shut the locks on her completely. And how has giving a strange man the benefit of the doubt served you before?

Your mother died when you were only 8. She was no saint, but she was the only person in the world who had a single goodness to offer you.

After her death, your father's violent tendencies worsened. You had to walk to school for 45 minutes back and forth every day for scraps of education. Every penny he made had been used for liquor and weed. Food became a privilege you had to earn, not a right. If you're lucky, you'd get to eat at least once a day from a portion big enough for a rat.

Because he did not care for you anymore. It was evident then that you could either be invisible, or abused. And for a long time, neither options were something you could just wake up and choose for.

It depended on his mood that was rarely well. And it's worse on nights he's drunk of his ass, insisting that you are the mirror of your mother.

The day you were turned, was the day everything changed.

You were 13.

13 and walking back home from school. And there he was, your maker.

It was dusk then. The sun had sank down. Not that it would make a difference, The heat would've never burned him to death.

And as the dark angel approached you, with red eyes and sharp fangs, like a story you've heard to keep children off the streets after sunset, you're shaken, halted in place.

He was terrifying, but he had looked at you with what could be interpreted at that time as adoration.

But he was no father of the orphans, nor is he a lover of the helpless. No, he was a perpetrator. He is the evil that mothers warn their babies of. He wasn't some wretched creep wanting a feel like all the other men. He was worse. He perversed innocence, and intimacy, you understood it immediately as you're left to pick yourself back up from a back alley, bleeding and gnawing with your newfound teeth, hours after he had drained and fed you.

Despite the newfound strength you had gained becoming immensely helpful when it came to your father, you would never claim it to be a gift. For every defense it had a hand in, it also took, and took and took from you. You were a changed woman at the age of 13, that was the cost of naivety.

"I am not so stupid now", you whispered under your breath.

"Hm?" He looked to you, eyes wide. You hummed ignorantly, facing the road again.

The streetlights brightened your path as you made your way to the large apartment building. Jacaerys struggled to find words to keep the conversation going, but you could feel the screws and gear going off in his pretty head, itching to come up with something smart.

If he were to ask questions, you'd give one word answers and it'll be back from square one. If he were to talk alone, that would be egoistic and irritating.

So instead, he chose to try and make his own assumptions. "You are an artist." He said confidently.

A smirk shadowed your features. "What makes you say that?"

"Most masochists are." You laughed then. Something you haven't done in a while. "I'm a writer." You corrected.

Understanding flowed through his eyes. "Of course you are." He smiled, nodding to himself. "So are you the kind that writes of murder fantasies or are you more of a torturous poet kind of girl?"

You liked him, you decided then. There are lots of things that can make a man attractive, observance is one of them. "A little bit of both. Poetry is essential, and sometimes from the torture and the poetry, a story can be born."

He hummed attentively. "You are a student too, i assume?" You nod. "That's where I study." You pointed a hand towards the glowing building of your university, a sight ti be seen from miles away. "No shit?" He laughed.

"I go there too." He follows up after. You weren't suprised, he looked the typento be able to afford to study there. In a different universe where you were a common girl, neither of you would have ever bunpedinto eachother in this kind of setting. Money had always been an issue back then, and before you had been cursed, you would imagine years of school work being flushed down the toilet as you knew that your dream to further your studies would never be funded.

But now your father's funds and your mothers inheritance are fully under your responsibility as your deadbeat old man lies in a nursing home all the way back in your village.

And if those funds run out, scamming rich men would become your career. You can even start with this one, you joked to the voices.

"And let me guess, finance?" You nudged him with your shoulder. He scoffed and rolled his eyes teasingly. "Business major actually."

"Of course you are." You used his own sentence from before.

His grin was endearing, you almost flashed one of your own back, teeth and all.

The two of you stopped right in front of the main doors and felt disappointment lingering. Should you have talked more as you walked before? No. You did the right thing, to fawn over some business student with great hair isn't a you thing to do, you guard your boundaries strictly.

And yet, as long as you can remember, you have never met anyone that made you want to talk this much.

He looks at you with eyes that were begging you to invite him in, but if you do, there would be no going back. You would eat him, or you would string him into your mess of a life that he could never understand.

So you gave him one last glance before you began to enter the building. "Thank you." Was the last thing you said to him before you returned to your seclusion, and his deep brown eyes was the last thing you thought of before you fell asleep.

—

He felt his heart beating fast as he watched you disappear into your apartment building that night, a sense of regret washing over him regret of what, he's not so sure. Or was it longing that he actually felt?

It doesn't matter. He had done what he's supposed to, what conflicting emotions he's left with after was not your responsibility, it is his own to look after them.

Jacaerys knew who you were when he saw you that night, or the right rephrase for the sentence is, he remembered you.

You clearly don't recognise him, but he still remembered the first time he laid eyes on you during an unremarkable welcoming frat party on the first week of his semester. You had appeared on the staircase, leaving Dalton Greyjoy's room. The boy had been absent for the rest of the party that night.

Jace wasn't sure just what it is about you that had stood out to him. You dressed just like any other girl, you walked just like any other girl, and yet he noticed how dead your eyes were, not a single shine nor expression. It almost felt sociopathic to look that uncaring. It was alluring.

And yet, a few nights ago, when he had walked you home, your dead eyes glowed slightly under the moonlight, and your rare smiles occasionally made an appearance. He decided then, to retract the opinion he had made before knowing you.

Whatever it was about you, he wanted more. He wanted to know more, to experience more. To be the one who filled sparks in your dull orbs and to be the one who knew how to fish out a laugh from inside.

And so he decided to look you up. All he had was your first name and your course name, even with the privilege of being the dean's son, going through the list of over a hundred thousand people with the same name was a chore, but he was willing to put in the work.

But gods, how disappointed he felt when he couldn't find you after hours of scrolling. There was only 150 students with the name, and none of them were you, and all had different courses.

He wondered if maybe he had spelt your names again and had come up with a list of different variations of your name to try again. By the time he finished, it had been 2pm, and he had remained unsuccessful in his pursuit.

Jace slumped on his chair, closing his eyes as he ran his hands over his face in frustration. This was incredibly stupid. You probably lied about your name because you didn't like him. Why didn't he think about that before?

And trying to hunt you down using his mother's official email adress was starting to explain why you were right to do so.

The right thing to do right now was to leave it up to fate. He saw you once, and then twice. What are the odds of a third time?

That has always been a fatal flaw in Jacaerys' personality. He wanted to believe that things that are meant for him will find him, but he is also very impatient. Always eager for the feeling of control. Fate is only fun as a concept.

But accepting fully that you might not get the things you want the most because it's just not for you is harder than it looks.

He wanted to believe that if he were to try enough, he'd get what he wanted despite the universe's intervention.

And right now, what he wanted is to find you, to learn the proper way to know you, to really know you. While his presence had been seen as amusing to you, yours have bewitched him. If you were to tell him to leave you alone, he would. But first he would try.

Jacaerys opened his tired eyes again, facing the bright screen of his laptop. The battery was dying. Jace stood up to pull out the charger before plugging it into his laptop, watching it brought back to life again before he sat back down on his chair.

He could go back to sleep now, or he could try again for the 4th time. He wanted to try again, bit as his eyes fluttered sleepily, fighting against his will, he decided to give in and turned off the device before climbing onto his bed.

Let fate intervene, and if he never sees you again, he'd learn to live with that.

This is just an infatuation, he told himself. Infatuation dies when you don't feed it, and so this too shall pass like everything else in his life. As he lets sleep overtake, he dreamt of empty oceans and hollow skies hovering above, sand through his toes as he walked closer to the body of water. And your voice, speaking from behind him, saying: "you don't survive loneliness, you accommodate it."

—

The water under the bridge was so clear that you could see the small shape of your reflection from above.

It's 3AM, and the quiet is calming. It's hard to find peace of mind as someone whose senses are heightened. And what other time do you have for a walk anyway?

You've stood here for a good hour now, just staring down while your thoughts run wild, Tchaikovsky's Valse Sentimentale playing in your airpods on repeat. It's been 3 days since you fed. After you were walked home by Jacaerys, you found that your only option was the security guard on a smoke break by the bathroom.

Ever since then, you have resumed your routine of boredom. Attending your afternoon classes and walking for hours in the evening until night, imprisoned by your thoughts.

You were sure that there was no one in the world who loved revisiting the past as much as you did. After all, the past is all you have.

When you were first turned, there had been no words to describe how it all felt. The overwhelming hunger and confusion, the survivors guilt, blaming yourself and going over the scenario over and over, trying to imagining how different each outcome would be if you had acted differently, if you had ran faster, pushed harder.

Amd even now, there are no words. Was this how Laika the dog had felt? Saved from the streets of Moscow to be sent up to space as the pride and joy of Russia in the space race, but doomed to die by the narrative from the start. To think that you've finay been saved, just to be pushed into a much worse and scarier circumstances? That must be it.

What am I doing? Compare myself to a dead dog. At least Laika died. You can't even do that.

Shoving yourself away from the railing, you decided it's time to go home. So you turned yourself to your right and began to make your way to your apartment.

Funnily enough, you felt your ankles ache as you moved. Your feet is heavy in your one inch heels, that's a first.

You smell the smoke of cigarettes as you crossed an alley, the cold breeze enhancing the scent. You've always had an addiction to them, smoke scents, gasoline scents, bug spray scents, there was something soothing in it. You slowed your steps down and took in as much as you could before exhaling slowly and oicking up your pace.

Something has changed recently. But you can't quite put a finger to it. It was just that you were beginning to feel more pain than usual, you were also feeling more lost and conflicted than usual.

You had always known what your life plan would be like, how once you've reached an age that you aren't able to explain non existant ageing, you'd start all over again until you make enough money to buy yourself some privacy and isolation.

You'll spend the thousands of years to come reading and writing until your hands fails you and your fingers break.

But these past few days, your resolve has been cracking. Is that really what you want? To be so goddamn lonely forever, so alone that not even death can be honoured to it.

It's not about what I want, it's what's going to happen anyways.

Footsteps. Loud and clear footsteps. You stop on your tracks and crane your neck to look behind you. There is no one there.

Absolutely nothing.

You look back to your front and tried to start walking again, but you're stuck, like you're being held back.

It's hard to see in the dark, since when was it hard to see it in the dark? The panic hasn't settled in yet, you were still rational. Or maybe just too tired to freak out.

But when you heard the voices, Your body shook. It was as if your whole world jas been frozen in time, and shadows loomed over your shoulders, taunting you, speaking to themselves in languages you can't understand.

Loud and clear, you feel the darkness around you and you hear their chatter. What is going on?

"Stop it." You muttered out. Thats was supposed to be a scream. "Stop it." You repeated.

Why can't I fucking move? "Stop it stop ot stop its stop it stop it-" You couldn't find the scream in your throat. You had obly your trembling legs and arms as prove that this was real.

When you cracked your head and you're finally able to spin around, every single vision and noise faded into nothingness by a second, and the alley was just an alley. Not even the smoking man was there anymore.

The last thing you saw from your hallucination before it turned into air was a white line, by your feet, like a moving animal that vanished when you flashed it with your phone screen.

"What the fuck." This could not be happening. You looked around you with furrowed brows, your stomach growled. "Jesus fuck."

You hear ambulance sirens away from where you're standing and physically flinch. Was that real or a hallucination, too?

It has been long since real fear had ever crept into your cold soul. But now, your head is dizzy, and every little thing you see and hear feels like an attack.

I need to move. You force yourself forward, counting from 1 to 50 over and over as you walked in the direction of your apartment. But you're weirdly slow, and nauseous.

You pause again like you've been struck by something and looked up to the sky. The dark clouds hung over you moved slowly but surely as it's supposed to be, you find comfort in knowing that the stars are at least real.

And then you felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped. "Fuck."

It was him.

You faced him with an annoyed expression, wondering where he came from. He spoke your name once. Your real name, not the one you give to everyone else.

"Are you following me?" You snapped at him.

His face went from worried to defensive. "No, god no. I'm just heading over the uni library to work on a late assignment that's due this morning, and I saw you walking. I was gonna leave you alone, but you were stopping a lot, and you don't look very good."

You studied his face for any deceit and found none. "I don't feel so good." You admitted honestly.

"What are you doing up at 3AM?" He shook his head.

"Taking a walk." You mumbled while massaging your temple with your thumb.

"Taking a walk?"

"Yes, and I'm leaving now, so you can go do whatever you're about to do." You did not wait for his answer and left immediately, but just as you silently expected, he followed you.

"I'll walk you home." He offered, or stated moreso.

I don't need you to walk me home like some guard dog, you wanted to say. But deep down, you were kind of grateful for some company after what had just occurred.

"What about your assignment?" You asked. The route you were using was the opposite of where he's going.

"It's not important." He assured, fixing his laptop bag on his shoulder.

"Not important?" You shot him a glance. "I can cram it in 2 hours before the submission time." You'd argue in a different night, but it wasn't this one.

The first few minutes of the walk, you were resigned to being silent, going over what had just happened to you over and over. Your first thought was that something more evil and monstrous than you cursed you for something you had done.

You wouldn't call yourself the devil, but you haven't exactly been the nicest person to people around you. Had you bitten a witch's man or something?

The second assumption that so far has sounded the most logical, is that you're insane. You've had hallucinations before of course. Little voices in your head. Hearing things that aren't there, seeing shadow people. But they always disappear on second glances, fast enough for you to blame it on the trick of your mind.

But the recent one? It was vivid, and clear. It was real. Or at least to you it was.

You were glad Jacaerys wasn't forcing a conversation either, but once you reached your apartment, you turned to him and asked him the one thing you wanted to the first time you met him. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yes." He answered, too quickly. "Okay."

You made him a cup of tea as he politely sat on the couch, bag on the floor. "Sugar or no?"

"Sugar." You added sugar.

You'd get him something to eat too but in truth, you have nothing. There are stale biscuits that exists in your kitches as fillers to the empty space and some fake fruits on the counter, but nothing truly edible.

"Here." You placed the cup into his hand, your fingers brushing together.

You move casually to the seat opposite him and laid down on the cushion, facing him.

He had questions. That was obvious.

"Cig?" You offered, pulling out a pack and a lighter from your back pocket. "No thanks." He declined politely.

Your hands shook lightly as you struggled to light the cigarette, balancing your elbow on the material of the couch, you try again and succeeded this time. You feel the whole day's exhaustion catch up to your tired body.

"So what happened back there?" He spoke finally. You looked up to him. "What?"

"I saw you then, you were just standing. You looked lost, what happened?"

"Oh that." You shrugged. "I thought I saw something." He nodded slowly, taking in your words. "Did you?"

"Did I what?" You raise a brow. "Saw something."

You gave yourself a second to really think before you answered, "Yes, I did."

He did not push for more answers surrounding the situation, accepting your response as it is.

He leaned back against his seat, relaxing properly. The small dim light that shone down on the righy side of his face makes his eyes look like they're golden, the same way yours would be sometimes when you fed.

The idea of Jace as a vampire is conjured in your head for a moment, you imagined he'd be the good kind. The type to suffer guilt for every kill and never get used it. Or perhaps you're wrong and he's much more resilient than you think.

As you settle into your thoughts, finally having the space to unravel from you earlier fears and shock, you notice just how disheveled he looks. It wasn't that he looked a mess, but more that he's such an open book to the poinf that his emotions are all over his face against his will.

"You look tired." You chose your words carefully, trying to open through his cracks.

He shifts slightly, looking up to you from the carpet. "Tired? No, no I'm good."

You gave him a few seconds, letting the silence push him.

"I'm just a bit frustrated." He continues. "Oh?"

"I had a fight with my mom this evening." You hummed, letting the context of it all fall together. "What did you fight about."

"She says I'm distracted- from my classes." Jace shrugs.

"Are you?" He raises a brow. "Distracted, i mean."

He hesitates but then chooses to deny it by shaking his head. "Sometimes there are things you can't help but be completely average at. There are classes I excel in, and there are those I just can't force myself to."

"I'm sure that's not true. You put enough effort, you do good in it even if you believe you won't."

"Maybe." He idly agrees. "But what if I don't think it's important enough for me to put all my energy in until it drains me too much that I can't do what I like?"

You offered him a small smile and copied his earlier shrug. "Then you just don't do it. I guess in the end, it depends on how much you want that thing to happen or work. And if you don't want it that much, then it shouldn't matter."

"Exactly."

Quietness seeps into the are again very slowly, but before it could catch up into awkwardness, Jace spoke again.

"And what about you?"

"What about me?" You asked, amused.

"Do you often see things that aren't real." Whatever response you had in mine died in your throat and was replaced by a suprised laugh. "Excuse me?"

He grinned. "Just making sure you're not schizophrenic."

"And what if I was, is that a turn off for you?" You retorted teasingly.

"No, of course not. I like my women neurotic.”

"And I like my men credulous."

You stood up and grabbed his empty mug to clean it at the sink, but his own hands were wrapped over yours, stopping you. But before he could offer assistance, you said; “Let me get us something stronger than tea.”

—

You awoke the next morning, comfortably on the right side of the bed with your blanket over your shoulders, a position you rarely place it in.

The soft sounds of footsteps force your eyes open immediately as you twist yourself to face the ceiling. You push yourself upwards using your elbows, looking fixatedly on his naked back that's hovering over your desk.

"You're still here." You stated the obvious.

"What's the rush." He mumbled back, you can hear the sound of paper being flipped in his hands. " 'I could drown in those eyes. So it's summer, so it's suicide.' Did you write this?"

You snorted, pleased be thought so. "No, that's Richard Siken for you." He responds with a soft 'oh' before turning around to see you.

"When can I read yours?" He asks gently. You see the way his gaze lingered on your face, refusing to look anywhere else. "Usually that happens after a few dates."

"And do you wait after a few dates first before telling people your real name or?" You frowned, confused.

"The name you gave me when we met, it was never in the university system."

"Why were you looking for me in there?" He clicked his tongue, averting his eyes somewhere else.

You weren't really worried that he had tried and failed miserably in an attempt of stalking you, in fact, you felt a sense of glee fill your hollow soul at the thought of it.

"I didn't lie about my name." You confessed after a while. "I changed it a long time ago into something else."

"I see." He relaxed visibly. "So you just have two names?" You nodded. "Then what do I call you?" He genuinely asks. "Whatever I ask you to." Not meaning for it to sound as scandalous as it did, Jace's face broke into a smirk. "Right, you like your men credulous."

"Come back to bed." You demanded, placing your head back onto the soft pillow. "Whatever you want, my girl."

It was at that moment, as you feel the bed shifts and his hands reaching for your waist, did you realize just how satiated you hunger has been since last night.

You were sure that this was doomed to end in a devastatingly ugly way. The love between two humans itself often destroys itself despite efforts against it. A love between a cursed being and an innocent soul is a one way ticket to never being the same again for either of you.

“And what happens from here?” A different voice speaks from behind him. A voice you dreaded to hear. Your maker tilted his head, judging the circumstances with humor.

I don't know. You figured you had your whole life worked out for you. Your mundane immortality wrote its own story before you could put pen to paper. And this boy is an unexpected chapter.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

I beg of thee 🙏 please please please anything Hyrule for requests!!!

Coming right up!

A Head-astrophe

Pairing: Hyrule x Reader

Warning(s): Scenes with nudity but no smut :)

Notes: So I read a headcanon about Hyrule having lice by @final-fantasy-xiii-fan and was instantly inspired. Set in modern!au.

Masterlist

You were watching Family Feud when the soft pad of footsteps drew closer, and a weight settled on the couch beside you. You managed to tear your eyes from the screen just long enough to greet Hyrule, who looked especially shy as he sat, somehow managing to simultaneously maintain a respectful distance and be close enough that the end of his pinkie was poking the side of your hand. "Hey, Rulie. Need a break from the screeching?"

As Hyrule's grin turned sheepish, the sound of loud whooping continued to reach your ears, emanating from the backyard. you weren't quite sure what the others were up to, but it was undoubtedly exciting to them, which meant you absolutely did not want tot get involved. Part of you wondered if it was truly the right decision to make Wind aware of your frisbee's existence.

'Yeah," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, and the TV blared as a contestant attempted to assault Steve Harvey with a pen. You ignored it in favor of your curly-haired friend, whose eyes bugged out when he caught sight of the spectacle. "Oh, um– is that allowed...?"

You spared the barest glance at the television and shrugged. "Nope."

"...Then where's the... what did you call your hero again?" asked Hyrule with a dissatisfied expression, and you sighed.

"The Prime Minister's not going to do anything, Rules."

His brows furrowed and he scratched the top of his head. Again. They all did, but Hyrule did it to an almost unnerving degree. "But--"

"Hey," you laid a hand on the hero's shoulder just as the offending candidate was dragged out by several security guards. Steve Harvey remained largely untouched. "He's fine, see?"

The hero was still for a long moment, but eventually acquiesced with a hesitant nod. "...If you say so."

"I do say," you snarked, though it was gentle; he had obviously come seeking peace and quiet, so you weren't about to ruin the moment. You reached over, ruffling his hair in a moment of spontaneous camaraderie--

What the hell?!

–Only to yank your hand back with a terrified gasp. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how could you have been so blind? Being from what was essential the medieval era meant many of the boys–save for Warriors, who, in your opinion, was leagues above most modern men in terms of both attitude and cleanliness–had lower hygiene standards, but this... this was too much, even for you.

"Link, do you have lice?!" You blurted in abject horror, a millisecond away from leaping back and burning everything he had touched.

Hyrule winced at the use of his real name, looking slightly hurt by your reaction, which you would have felt bad for had his hair not been absolutely swarming with the small insects. Eventually, he seemed to settle on an answer to your horrified query. "...You mean the head rice?"

Your jaw dropped.

"You knew?!"

"It's not a big deal," Hyrule raised his hands defensively. "Lot's of people have head rice!"

"Lice," you corrected with a hiss that turned into a terrified whimper when you realized he had been walking around your home like this for... well, you didn't actually know, but his nonchalance suggested it had been a while. "Nope, nope, we're fixing this. Now."

"Fixing what?" A new voice joined the fray, and you turned pleading eyes to Warriors and Wild, who had ambled inside mere seconds ago.

"He has lice. Lice," you stressed.

Recognition flashed across Wild's dirt-smudged face. He snapped his fingers. "Oh! You mean he has head rice?"

Just as all hope left you, Warriors elbowed the Champion in the ribs with a grumbled: "Don't call it that," before he set his sympathetic gaze on you. "It's okay, we have herbs–"

"–And I have fire," you hissed, already inching to the kitchen where you kept the matches. Hyrule looked instantly nervous.

"Wait, hold on, let's talk about this–!"

You dodged the Traveller's outstretched hand and continued to back away. Until you stopped, realized Hyrule was still sitting on your couch, and oh god what else had he contaminated--

"Nope, no talking," you said, breathless with terror. All three of them were looking at you with varying expressions of regret, curiosity, and apprehension, but it was all relative at this point. You pointed to Hyrule, who sat to attention like he was awaiting imminent execution. "You. Bathroom. Now," and, in an effort to not sound like a total jackass: "Please."

It was a small mercy that the Traveler hadn't the will nor courage to refute the very obvious command. He stood, choosing not to dust himself off when your glare reached maximum intensity, and scurried to the bathroom like the little (adorable) rat he was. Warriors and Wild silently watched as you all but sprinted to grab several large garbage bags from the kitchen, holding them like the holy weapons they were. "Wars," you stared the blonde Captain straight in his little blue eyes. "Give it to me straight: who else has head ri– I mean, lice?"

Wild, never one to overlook a good joke, looked on with a shit-eating grin. "He can't because he's not–"

–Only to be elbowed for the second time that day as Warriors successfully retained his last bit of dignity. "Not that I know of," he admitted, and you sighed in half-hearted relief. A pointed look was sent in Wild's direction. "Though some of us could benefit from a bath."

The Champion opened his mouth to retaliate, only to be silenced by Warriors' hand (gently) slapping over his mouth. The Captain's expression was unamused. "Don't even try. You smell like a corpse."

A betrayed look was shot your way in an attempt to garner sympathy, but you had none, raising your hands in surrender. "Listen, man, as long as you don't have head rice–sorry, lice–"

The door swung open and Legend barged in, catching the tail end of your exasperated sentence. His brows furrowed in bafflement. "What the fuck is head rice?"

You ran a hand down your face and sighed.

"...Are you sure this is necessary...?"

"Absolutely," you interrupted, rolling your sleeves to your elbows in preparation for the grueling task of cleaning the errant hylian, who somehow managed to shrink further into the warm water. It hadn't taken much to strong-arm him into the tub, though not before making sure his clothes were contained in a garbage bag in preparation for a very deep cleaning. You sat on your haunches, hip pressed to the glossy ceramic barrier, and reached for a pair of gloves.

Hyrule's ears pressed to his hair when you slipped them on, the black latex snapping against the skin of your wrists, and he looked seconds away from drawing blood from how hard he was gnawing his bottom lip. Hazel-green eyes flicked to the thin comb you retrieved next, and it took everything in you not to pat the rounded curve of his shoulder from where it peeked above the soapy water. The bubbles hadn't been necessary, per se, but it did create a rather masterful 'cover up' that ensued you didn't feel quite as bad for staring in the general direction of his body.

"Hey," you paused, letting his gaze return to you. Despite your initial reaction, you were far from mad at the Traveler, just... concerned. For his health (obviously) and the preservation of your lice-free life, but you liked to think that your heart was in the right place. "You're going to be fine. We'll fix this together."

Hyrule blinked slowly; like a cat, or a rat. Suddenly, he didn't look as apprehensive. "Promise?"

"Promise."

You brandished the comb with a grin, hand already reaching for the bottle of special shampoo, leftover from the last time you babysat your neighbor Cindy's little demons. The Traveler watched you, the muscles in his neck still glaringly taunt. Time to fix that. "Ready?"

A pause.

"As I'll ever be," murmured your victim with the ghost of a smile. You returned the expression before gently descending on his scalp, using the comb to separate the tangled mess he called hair into two... well, it was a bit presumptuous to call them sections, but you were getting there.

"Jezus, Rulie," you muttered under your breath when the comb caught on a particularly matted section. You could have sworn his hair wasn't this crazy the last time you touched it. "When was the last time you had a trim?"

"Er..."

You tugged on a knot and, yup, those were lice eggs. Ew. "Actually, don't answer that, I need to save my screaming voice for Wild."

A soft chuckle was all you needed to hear to know that, after all these months, you were somehow still funny. Or he was just an incredibly kind soul who liked humoring you. Both were equally likely.

After a few grueling minutes, you set the comb on the tub's rim and grabbed the plastic cup from the floor, dipping it into the bath to fill it. While leaning over him like some clean-freak specter was fine and dandy, you really didn't want to get lice-water anywhere near his face, prompting you to tap both his shoulders. "Can you turn your back to me? I'd hate to get stuff in your eyes."

Hyrule obliged with a small nod, shifting so his freckle-dotted back was facing you. You thanked him with a pat to the bicep, then carefully knotted your fingers in the curls by his neck, coaxing his head to tilt upwards. "Oooookay, and stay just like that until I get the soap going."

There was a huff of acknowledgement as the Hero quite literally bent to your will, the muscles in his back flexing–not that you were looking, obviously–when you poured a small amount of water on the crown of his head, using your other hand to smear a very generous dollop of shampoo into the middle of his scalp, slowly massaging it in with the concentration of an over-caffeinated neurosurgeon and pretending not to hear the pleased hum leave his lips. He hardly flinched when you maneuvered his head back up. "Good?"

"Mmm," said Hyrule eloquently. You rubbed firmer, further aggravating the very overactive lather his head had become, and the Traveler's shoulders went wonderfully slack. You didn't comment on the way he seemed to be leaning into your touch, whether intentionally or otherwise. "Thank you."

"I live to serve," you joked, grabbing the comb and raking it through his wet locks, which somehow managed to retain most of their curl despite him probably never having even fathomed the existence of curl creams before. "But don't fall asleep on me yet, Traveler. I can't guarantee I'll catch you in time."

That earned you a chuckle. You tugged through a fading knot, flicking the spare foam into the already soapy water, only to start all over again because, by Hylia, you did not want to do this half-assed.

Hyrule cleared his throat, though it sounded more like a wet squeak than anything. "...Do we really have to burn everything I've touched?"

Oh dear, the apprehension was back. "What, no? Who said that?"

There was a pause. You managed to brush another full line through his hair, slowly eradicating any trace of the vile creatures that had taken residence on his head. "You did...?"

"Well, obviously I was wrong, because I spent money on this house and it's more Wild's speed to burn things down," you simultaneously explained and defended.

"You're not wrong," Wild acquiesced from his place against the doorway. The comb fell from your grip, plopping into the water as you whirled around on unsteady knees.

"Hylia– how long have you been there?!"

"Long enough," was the Champion's response. You had the distinct urge to bury your face in your hands, but that meant risking contracting the dreaded head rice, so you reigned yourself in with a sigh that hopefully conveyed just how exasperated you were with being spied on. Wild raised a brow, grinning. "You're good with your hands."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome! Warriors is wondering if you're planning to shave him, by the way. We're building a fire pit."

Hyrule went stiff beneath your hands, peeking over his shoulder with a very apprehensive expression. You held your hands up in surrender, hoping it was enough to salvage the fragile trust between the two of you. "Oh, god, no. No shaving, and– hold on, did you say you're building a fire pit?"

Obviously, this was very concerning, because you knew for a fact that you did not have one.

Wild was unfazed. "Yeah? Time's digging it right now, since you mentioned fire–"

Hylia have mercy, you brain whispered with mounting horror. "You're joking. Tell me you're joking."

"Okay, I'm joking."

Your eye twitched. You knew that guilty look anywhere. "Are you?"

A swift silence befell the bathroom; Wild's ears tinted strawberry. "...You told me to tell you!"

...You were done. The scent of smoke filtered in from the likely ajar backyard door. "You know what? Go wild."

Wild's face lit up like the Fourth of July. "Really?!"

"Fuck no, tell Time he can either fill it back in or those apple turnovers are going back to where they belong: my imagination!"

"But you never made any–"

"GO!"

The Champion obediently scrambled out. You turned your attention back to the man in the tub, only to realize you had dropped your comb when Wild entered. "Oh, for the love of–"

You promptly shut your mouth when the item was brandished from the suds. Hyrule's smile was apologetic in the few seconds he had before you were turning his head back around. "I'm sorry," he said; softly, like any wrong word would send you into another aneurism. "I can make sure it's filled when we're done."

You tilted your head and chuckled, combing a long, satisfying line down the center of his scalp. "I wouldn't be so hasty, did you see Wild's face when I told him that?"

He hummed, and your eyes caught the tell-tale curve of a smile on his face. It was nice; you were grateful for the quiet.

Many minutes passed before you felt proud enough to rinse the soap out with the movable shower-head, poking around his head to check for any stragglers. When you were confident there were none, you stood, grabbed the plastic bag of clothes, shucked your gloves into the wastebasket, and turned to the door. "Wait right here, I'm going to toss these in the washer and I'll be back to condition you."

Hyrule regarded you in that way teenage boys did when they were trying to find the joke in your words. You weren't. His tone was meek. "Not that I'm complaining, but is that really n–?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Just let it happen, Link."

"Okay," said the Traveler quickly. The water sloshed when he lifted his hand, slicking a few wayward strands away from his forehead. He shifted a bit beneath the water. "Should I just...?"

"Hm? Oh, just stay there. I'll have you rinse off in a bit."

Was it just you or did he seem a bit... dare you say, disappointed? You readjusted the bag in your grasp and, there it was, the tell-tale slump of freckled shoulders.

"Hyrule, you're cute," you said without missing a beat.

His ears perked. You pretended not to notice the flush staining tanned, freckled cheeks. "...But?"

A shrug. "There's no 'but', I'm just not keen on seeing anyone naked right now."

His blush darkened. "Ah..."

He watched as you flashed a bright grin and left.

A beat passed. Hyrule buried his head in his hands, cheeks flaring a big, bright shade of crimson.

Clunk!

Your skin jumped when the washing machine shuddered once again. Beside you, an ever-vigilant Hyrule–dressed in your Frog and Toad graphic tee and matching shorts, uncaring of how the collar hung low over his sternum–scanned the basement once more for threats. He was sweet like that.

"You don't have to watch," you told the hero softly, tearing your eyes from the rattling machine to steal a glance at his freckled face. Brown hair, curled to perfection. Clean. Happy. "It'll finish when it's finished."

Hyrule returned your gaze for the barest moment. Hyrule resumed watching, tugging his knees a bit closer to his chest. You found yourself copying the movement, if only to relieve the numbness in your backside from sitting on the floor for so long. "You're here," he told you; matter-of-fact, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"That's it?" you responded, tone teasing. Maybe you wanted to alleviate the tension in your belly, or inject a bit of humor into the frankly insane situation. You didn't even want to think of all the washing you'd have to put your poor machine through.

"That's it."

You exhaled a breath. The machine shuddered once more. This time, Hyrule made the first glance. "Thank you," he said.

"I live to serve," you parroted, hoping your grin was enough to wash the sentimentality from your expression.

"Don't say that."

Full-stop. You nearly gave yourself whiplash from how quickly you turned to face him, palm landing on the cold floor to steady yourself. "Huh?"

"You're more than that," Hyrule continued, gaze surprisingly hard. His eyes flicked to the machine, then back to you. He took a breath, eyebrows softening into a wistful slant. "I mean, we're just heroes, but you treat us like..."

You knew where this was going; he didn't need to finish. You could do all the work. "...People worth knowing?"

"Something like that," the Traveler smiled, and you felt your heart throb when this one reached his eyes.

A thick silence blanketed the room. You sat back slightly, using your arms to stay somewhat upright. Chewing on your lip, you stretched your legs out, toes pointed against the rumbling metal of the machine. "Because you are."

There was a rustle of fabric, and you nearly jolted out of your skin when a pair of lips pressed against the flesh of your cheek. You blinked; once, twice, thrice, but it was useless against the butterflies taking flight in your belly.

"Thank you," whispered Hyrule. Link. He returned to his spot, reinstating the modest two-foot distance between the two of you. Your stomach clenched for an entirely different reason; mouth agape, heart hammering a hole through your ribs.

"I..."

"You don't have to say anything," he was looking at you, and not even the kiss of death could have stopped the flush that bloomed across your cheeks, caressing the curve of your neck in a way that had goosebumps springing forth like flowers. He coughed, suddenly looking a bit red himself. You were glad you weren't the only one. "I just... wanted you to know."

The Hero of Hyrule didn't say much else.

The washing machine dinged with completion, but neither of you moved to pick up the slack.

You worried your lip. You scooted closer, bringing an arm around his half-bared shoulders, earning a soft laugh and even softer blush. Somewhere down the line, your cheek was pecked again.

This time, you didn't fight it.

This time, you let yourself smile.

Why can't he be real?? 😭

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Common Fantasy Subgenres

The broad tent of fantasy literature has spawned many fantasy subgenres that range from mythical and gritty to modern and otherworldly. Understanding the different fantasy subgenres can help aspiring writers find their niche so that they can create a fantasy series that readers can enjoy for years to come.

Fantasy novels take on many forms, and the number of distinct fantasy subgenres seems to grow with each passing year. Here are 18 particularly important subgenres within the world of fantasy:

Dystopian fantasy: Sometimes grouped in with science fiction, speculative fiction, and literary fiction, dystopian fantasies imagine worlds gone wrong. The settings are at once familiar to contemporary audiences and also alarmingly worse than the present world. Jack Vance’s Dying Earth series is a pulpy example of this subgenre of fantasy fiction.

High fantasy: Sometimes called “epic fantasy,” high fantasy is set in a magical environment that has its own rules and physical laws. This subgenre’s plots and themes have a grand scale and typically center on a single, well-developed hero or a band of heroes, such as Frodo Baggins and his cohorts in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings or Bilbo Baggins and the dwarves in The Hobbit. George R.R. Martin combines high fantasy with elements of medieval fantasy and romance in his Song of Ice and Fire series (and the Game of Thrones television series based upon those books).

Low fantasy: Set in the real world, low fantasy includes unexpected magical elements that surprise ordinary characters, like the plastic figurines come to life in Lynne Reid Banks’s The Indian in the Cupboard.

Magical realism: While similar to low fantasy, magical realism characters accept fantastical elements like levitation and telekinesis as a normal part of their otherwise realistic world, as in Gabriel García Márquez’s magical realism classic One Hundred Years of Solitude.

Sword and sorcery: A subset of high fantasy, this subgenre focuses on sword-wielding heroes—such as the titular barbarian in Robert E. Howard’s Conan pulp fiction stories.

Urban fantasy: Urban fantasy is a genre of literature encompassing novels, novellas, and short stories in which fantastical characters and concepts are placed in a real world urban setting, often in the present day. Urban fantasy novels have devoted followings and they have spawned film and TV adaptations. Urban fantasy stories often draw from noir and gritty police procedurals. They also may incorporate fantastical elements and supernatural creatures. These could involve undead zombies, vampires, druids, demons, wizardry, witchcraft, and other such fantasy tropes. For example, The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher.

Paranormal romance: This fantasy subgenre combines romantic themes with fantasy elements like vampires, werewolves, shifters, faeries, and zombie armies. Many contemporary fantasy series blur the line between urban fantasy stories, coming-of-age tales, and paranormal romances. Patricia Briggs and Jeaniene Frost are popular authors in this subgenre.

Dark fantasy: Combining elements of fantasy with the horror genre, dark fantasy’s aim is to unnerve and frighten readers. For example, consider the gargantuan, otherworldly monsters in H. P. Lovecraft’s universe. Gothic and Victorian dark fantasy tends to embrace a paranormal setting and supernatural elements, which can range from vampires to werewolves and beyond. Note that by no means is every paranormal fantasy a dark fantasy.

Grimdark fantasy: One step beyond dark fantasy, grimdark novels pry into the blackest depths of the human condition, often in the proverbial underbelly of an alternate world. The Court of Broken Knives by Anna Smith Spark is a popular book within this subgenre.

Fables: Using personified animals and the supernatural, fables impart moral lessons, like the stories in Aesop’s Fables and Arabian Nights.

Fairy Tales: Intended for children, fairy tales and folk tales are typically set in distant magical worlds (with beginnings like “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…”) where trolls, dragons, witches, and other supernatural characters are an accepted truth, as in the Brothers Grimm’s Grimms’ Fairy Tales.

Superhero fantasy: Unlike stories in which a hero acquires special abilities through scientific means, such as exposure to radiation, the protagonists’ powers in more fantastical superhero stories are supernatural. Many superhero stories are set in a low fantasy world—one that’s quite similar to our own world. Superheroes ranging from Wonder Woman to Thor bring fantasy elements to worlds that otherwise obey the known laws of science. Many superhero fantasy authors have worked in the comic book medium, from Stan Lee to Bob Kane. As such, superhero fiction in the fantasy genre is also known as comic fantasy or comic book fantasy.

Fantasy of manners: This subgenre, exemplified by fantasy books like Gormenghast by Mervyn Peake, combines supernatural world-building with the type of society-centric concerns one might encounter in a work by Edith Wharton or Noel Coward. Human drama and pettiness may outweigh magical powers in this subgenre of fantasy literature.

Crossworlds fantasy: Sometimes called portal fantasy, this subgenre involves characters transporting from a normal world to a magical one. This requires authors to engage in both magical world-building and grounded realistic world-building. Crossworlds fantasy stories often appeal to children, as seen in the Chronicles of Narnia series by C.S. Lewis and Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. These works also fit a category known as juvenile fantasy.

Steampunk fantasy: This highly specific subgenre combines the Victorian science and technology of the Industrial Revolution with contemporary takes on robots and machines. As such, steampunk fantasy is at once alternate history, science fantasy, and a modern fantasy—although the specifics vary with specific novels. Soulless by Gail Carriger is a particularly well-regarded steampunk fantasy novel.

Arthurian fantasy: These historical fantasy stories exist in a magical world of King Arthur, although Arthur himself is not always the main character. Due to their magical setting, Arthurian fantasy novels and short stories tend to feature mythic creatures like dragons, and many of their heroes are knights—which also makes them part of the heroic fantasy subgenre.

Sci-fi fantasy: These stories can be set in any variety of time periods—which means they can be a contemporary fantasy, a modern fantasy, a futuristic fantasy, or even historical fantasy—but they establish a new world where scientific advancements have changed the rules of engagement, while still incorporating magical elements. The Star Wars series and the various works of Isaac Asimov have helped set the bar for sci-fi fantasy.

Wuxia fantasy: This subgenre is rooted in classic Chinese literature. It involves elements of fantasy interspersed with martial arts. Jade City by Fonda Lee is an example of wuxia fantasy.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[physalian]

What No one Tells You about Writing Fantasy, #2!

I did this list about 7 annoyances about fantasy, but I write in this genre for a reason! Fantasy knows no bounds, it can encompass all other genres within it. You can write a fantastical murder mystery, fantasy horror, fantasy romance, political drama, slice-of-life, comedy, whatever you’d like!

Whether it’s urban or high fantasy, supernatural or scientific, here’s seven great benefits of writing in this genre:

1. No modern means of communication

Unless you’re writing a world with phones or phone-adjacent devices. Phones and instant communication seriously inhibits the plausibility of dramatic irony and tension when you have to keep coming up with reasons to keep your characters from calling or texting each other everything they know. It’s exhausting, I tell you, and such a relief when phones aren’t a factor.

With that said, without phones, you have complete freedom to design your own magical channels of supernatural FaceTime, as weird and zany as you want. But without instant connections? Your character who knew too much can’t pass on the intel before they die. Your hero team can’t call for backup in their darkest hour. Otherwise easily preventable tragedies and deadly miscommunications are now very real.

2. The Monster Allegory

Fantasy and sci-fi tend to overlap more than they’re set apart, and in that overlap sits the monster allegory. Everything from werewolves to vampires to witches, reapers, demons, angels, goblins, trolls, wraiths, fairies, mermaids, ghosts, to Eldritch horrors and your classic Hollywood cast of mummies, creatures from the black lagoon, and Frankenstein.

Most of the time, the monsters aren’t just monsters, they represent a monstrous aspect of society the author wants to challenge and caricaturize in a fun and entertaining way. Or, the monsters are the good guys and the humans are the real terrors. Or, you’ve got two kinds of monsters to allegory two human sides. Sometimes they represent metaphorical demons, like vampires often representing addiction and werewolves repressed identities.

What all of this boils down to is the hyperbolic nature of science fantasy that allows you to go over-the-top with your metaphor and allegory in a way that a book grounded in reality just can’t.

3. Magic Systems!

Do you love world building? Do you love filling pages upon pages with your cool and unique set of superpowers you want your characters to have? Do you dream about your fight scenes and dramatic slow-mo shots?

Then Fantasy is for you!

There are zero limits to how you want to define your magic system. You can go classic with the familiar archetypes of elemental magic, wizards, sorcerers, and witches. Or you can step off the beaten path and design a whole new funky system of power sets. Best part? Your readers will have an awesome time imagining themselves with those powers, and debating endlessly about how it works.

4. Real-World Politics, who?

Amazon’s Rings of Power was twice-doomed when they only got the rights to adapt the appendices of The Silmarillion and when they decided to inject current political problems into a timeless story written purposefully to be divorced from those politics. You *can* write about human politics, but in fantasy, you don’t have to. You *can* interpret Lord of the Rings to be an allegory about the World Wars, but no matter how hard you argue, it wasn’t written with that intent.

Which means: Even if your story is set in the reality-adjacent fantasy version of 1543, you are free from the following: Racism, homophobia, sexism, religious bigotry, mental health bigotry, gender norms, anti-feminism, toxic masculinity, and more. “But that’s how it was-”

Nope. This is fantasy. You built this world, you decided to keep in the discrimination. Or… You can fill your fantasy world with a rainbow of gays, POCs in power, women in power, men unafraid to be compassionate and caring, a religion that doesn’t foster hate and division, the list goes on. You. Are. Free.

5. Nothing is too “unrealistic”

Both that you will always have people whining about how X would never happen so write the book you want to read, but also because fantasy is fake. Fairies aren’t real. Mermaids aren’t real. There are no rules for how they must be written and that’s how we have so much variety with so much room for interpretation by so many creators. Twilight made how much money writing about vampires that sparkle like diamonds in sunlight and crack like marble?

This is fantasy, it’s supposed to be unrealistic. Yes, your plot should make sense, but don’t be afraid to get weird. Write at least some of your story dependant on those fantasy elements. Write a story that can’t just be told in the real world minus the spectacle. Don’t be afraid to be sincerely fantastical and weird. People love weird. People love loving weird.

6. You are in complete control

But you do still need to research, unfortunately. Unless this is urban fantasy that depends at least a little on the human world, yours is completely your own to govern like a god tweezing weeds from their garden. You get to design your own geography and weather patterns and seasons. Your own countries and kingdoms and politicians. Your epic pre-canon fantasy war and the stakes that it was fought over. Your species, races, and ethnicities.

It’s a shame that a movie like Avatar (2009) set out to be this wholly unique take on aliens with music completely divorced from earthly bonds, new languages and a visually and culturally distinct alien species… and ended up a largely generic blue Pocahontas in space. It forgot that it was fantasy and didn’t go weird enough. They have horses, monkeys, wolves, rhinos, and deer just re-skinned with some extra limbs and colors. It’s pretty but it’s so, so shallow.

It could have become a cult classic like many a positively *weird* 80s off-beat fantasies, and now it just… exists. It makes a whole lot of money but its impact on the cultural zeitgeist is negligible. I’m the only person I know that can name every major character in the movie, and I’m no Avatar obsessor. They had complete creative control, and this is what they did with it. Don’t be Avatar. Take your creative freedom and run.

7. Even if it has been done before, do it again

You can say this about any genre, particularly romance, but fantasy and sci-fi, by the gatekeep-y nature of their fans, can be a lot less forgiving when it comes to claims of “unoriginality”. No one hates Star Wars more than Star Wars fans. Fans of these genres can get… concerningly attached to their favorite stories (mostly because the people who like them had only their fictional heroes to protect them from very real bullies).

But Game of Thrones exists because the author likes Lord of the Rings and went “yes, but what if it was an R-rated parade of misery?” Dungeons and Dragons exists because people wanted to roleplay in an LotR-esque world. Legolas and Gimli single-handedly defined what a badass elf and dwarf looks like in high fantasy. And people still gobble up media ripping shamelessly, or even good-naturedly, from this one story.

So on my other list, I argued that the sum of your parts is still original, even if the components aren’t. On this list, I implore you this: It’s not stealing or appropriating to write another Legolas if you love Legolas. Everyone loves Legolas. How many generic buff action heroes do we have and love? How many Hallmark romances tread the same predictable path? Who gives a damn if it’s unoriginal? Just make it entertaining and have something fresh to say in the end (or don’t, that’s fine too), and people will read it.

And when people say “Oh, you mean like Legolas”, take it as a compliment, not an insult. Yes, exactly like Legolas. Here’s my new elf because I adore this other book, now watch him go on a new adventure that I wrote for him.

[oldtvandcomics]

Trans Reights Readathlon Recommendations

I am not participating in the actual event, because I have my own reading schedule to follow, but for those who are still looking for books, here is a list of my favorite trans books!

The Margin Street Zeroes series by Robin Banks: Nonbinary first person narrator, in a relationship with another nonbinary person. The story is about a group of university students and their struggles with life and literal gods.

Space Cadets and The Repossessed by Robin Banks are both part of the Heinlein's Finches series, but all books can be read as stand-alones. Set in a capitalist dystopia, both books explore different parts of the aftermath of the massacre on a space colony: Space Cadets follows a small group of cadets who are left alone with a spaceship, and need to figure out what to do with it. The main character and first-person narrator is a trans man. The Repossessed follows a different group of people, who are going from space station to space statin, looking for the lost children of that colony. One of the secondary characters is an intersex trans man (assigned female at birth, had to transition to live as a man).

Andrew Joseph White has written three transgender horror books: The Spirit Bares its Teeth is set in an alternate history Victorian setting, and follows a trans boy who is sent to a school "correcting" girls who don't confirm to society's expectations of womanhood. Compound Fracture is following a young trans man, who is about to enter the generational feud between his family and the family of the sheriff who executed his great-great-grandfather during the miners' revolts in the 1920s. Hell Followed With Us is the one I haven't read yet, but I have absolute faith in this author. It is set in a post-apocalyptic world, and the main character is a young trans man who is on the run from a religious cult.

Tell Me How It Ends by Quinton Li is the story of a young Tarot reader, who gets recruited by a nonbinary person to break their friend out from prison. It was the first (and so far, only) fantasy novel I have read so far where introducing yourself with your pronouns is the norm. As I said, nonbinary secondary character.

The Hears of Heroes series by Molly J. Bragg is a superhero series, with each book the origin story of a different hero, so you can read them out of order. Transistor is a trans woman who gets her superpowers via gender-affirming surgery gone wrong, and needs to fight a rogue angel to protect her girlfriend. Rhapsody is a trans woman who gets superpowers when criminal kidnap and experiment on her, and she is framed for the murder of another hero, which sets both the Police and the superheroes on her trail.

The Black Trans Fairy Tales series by S.T. Lynn is a series of three novellas based on three Disney movies, the protagonist always being a Black trans woman.

No Man of Woman Born by Ana Mardoll is a collection of short stories of people defeating prophecies via he power of genders that don't match the exact texts.

Baker Thief by Claudie Arsenault is about a Police officer who chases a notorious thief. Said thief is genderfluid, and uses this as a means of disguise.

Bonus, for those who are a bit more adventurous: Le Roman de Silence by master Heldris de Cornouailles. It's a medieval text about a knight who was born female but raised as a man. Tumblr user @queer-ragnelle has a copy of it as part of their Arthurian Preservation Project. I'm quite sure that retellings for more modern audiences also exist, I only haven't looked into them yet.

[oretskov]

𓇼 i'd wash the sand off the shore . . . the one and only atira has been an active musician for nearly seven years now. her digital footprint? unapologetically herself. her scorpio sun shrines through with her unconventional takes. a gen z bjork or matty healy, if you may! it's become a common joke between fans on her numerous amount of side quests. she's practically everywhere, while still pumping out music yearly, whether it's her own or helping others. the k-pop industry, famous youtubers, and revolutionary artists — she's met them all! ( a.k.a some of atira's favourite interviews/press she's been on )

𓉘 top five beatdown / watcher. . . 𓉝

⠀⠀⠀“ ⠀⠀though atira wouldn't touch anything related to the paranormal with a ten foot pole, she's been a big fan and believer of horror and ghosts from a young age. ghosthunters have knack for faking their finds — the only ones she trusts? ryan and shane. she's been a viewer since their buzzfeed days, and followed them along their journey after.

୧ ranking the 5 best superheroes ft. atira

she may be last, but she's certainly not atira's least liked — ranked at fifth place is oracle/barbara gordon. her next two picks are, ironically enough, characters she's sees herself in — x-23/laura kinney and batgirl/cassandra cain. at second place, many may not know him as a hero, but atira will defend him with her last honour — it's magneto/erik lehnsherr. and to no one's surprise, because she never shuts up about him, atira's number one hero will always be batman/bruce wayne.

𓉘 hearing songs for the first time / drumeo. . . 𓉝

⠀⠀⠀“ ⠀⠀atira's utmost talent manages to shine a spotlight on such an underrated instrument: the drums. her talent doesn't even end there, for she can sing, write, produce, and play the bass and guitar. whether it's live on tour with wallows, or at her own concerts, the reports know to call her one of the best modern drummers.

୧ atira hears marilyn manson for the first time

she's listened her fair share of artists, especially in the alternative scene. though, of course, many can get past her as well. she proved that point when a drumless track of 'the beautiful people' by marilyn manson began to play on set. her execution was almost flawless, bringing her own twist into mix that elevated her style in drumming. finding out whose song she was playing was all the more surprising — she's heard of manson's controversial appeal, but damn, did she enjoy listening !

𓉘 royal court. . . 𓉝

⠀⠀⠀“ ⠀⠀only a few can beat atira in the game of unhinged digital footprints. brittany broski takes that cake. both are equally enamoured by each others' creative content. brittany has mentioned her music several times on her podcast — broski report — and atira has mentioned brittany on quite a few accounts during q&a's.

୧ atira joins brittany broski's royal court

brittany studies her guests as well as nardwuar. paired with the woman's humour and chaotic energy, atira had a blast on set. the host had managed to surprise her with a cucumber salad and the question of "you started worshipping a tree named bob in elementary school. explain." by the end, queen brittany of house broski had welcomed lady atira — bodyguard to duke bob, turned vampire — to the court.