#(yes this could just be lack of respect for his audience + knowing that audacity gets the job done. but i'm not convinced it's that simple)

[tyrannuspitch]

mandatory disclaimer that i'm new in town and refuse to watch past episode six but. just from where i'm standing. i'm pretty sure the intended situation is that sherlock (the character) is a terrible *actor* but an excellent *liar*, and that's such a fun piece of characterisation. like... he can't be anyone but himself. but he CAN significantly mislead you about what "being himself" means.

[dreaminginvelaris]

A Response to a Feyre Anti

I made a post recently explaining the dread of having to watch Feyre be abused by her sisters and father, in the Tv adaption. And a Feyre anti made a response, to something that should not be criticized at all considering what I said was just the truth? Feyre was abused. Not only that but they went on and completely twisted the narrative to fit their own ideas and in the process made Feyre out to be cruel and Nesta a saint. complete bull.

I will not be tagging the anti bc they have me blocked (shocker), but also I do not want anyone to go after them, if you come across the post, I don't want it to be through me. it's as much respect I can give to them.

I usually do not respond to those who have something to say with a post of mine or are blatantly talking about me on their blog, unless they're just spreading absolute lies about me or what i "said", it's usually a waste of time to do so. but this post attacked Feyre with outrageous lies and a complete backward interpretation of what actually happened in acotar, so as respectful as I can be, I will be analyzing the anti-response and what truly happened in acotar.

"the audience will only see two sisters fighting-not abuse" "it’s not Nesta you need to worry about. It’s audiences calling Feyre a big dumbass and a bitch" -from anti

if the audience has basic human compassion and empathy for humans IRL or fictional, they will see what's obvious from the start. Feyres abuse. how is it going to look, when they see Feyre walking through the woods, shaking from the cold, starving from hunger, and struggling to find food for her family? only to later see Nesta's treatment of Feyre?"

in the anti's post, they said Feyre was just as "heinous" to Nesta.

is Feyre the one calling Nesta a pig? a smelly pig? ordering her to take her clothes off?

no, it's not, it's dear Nesta. the text goes as "I took my time, swallowing the words I wanted to bark at her" oh yes... how cruel of Feyre. how heinous of Feyre to...stay quiet... at the verbal abuse.

in the same image we see Feyre ask Nesta to do something (kindly might I add) and then inquire why she didn't chop wood like she needs to.

what does Nesta do? acts like a brat and insults Feyre...once again.

considering I'm going off by the story and not the actual screenplay, and assuming they stay true to the story; will the audience not be disgusted by Nesta's behavior? I mean they just saw Feyre struggle to find food and they expect Feyre to go home to a family happy and appreciative of Feyre but instead, they get this familial abuse.

the anti said Feyre basically tells Nesta this:

"If you keep bitching at everyone like this no one will want to be around you or you can’t marry this guy because you’re a waste of space to me"

but what do we see?

"Believe me... the day you want to marry someone worthy, I'll march up to his house and hand you over. But you're not going to marry Tomas."

the word worthy, did that not catch your eye? Feyre said Nesta will have to marry someone worthy, someone, who will treat Nesta kindly and give her the life Feyre thinks her sisters deserve. bc Feyre does think that IDK why anti feyres think Feyre despised Nesta so much, Feyre loved her sisters.

what the anti fails to realize here is that Nesta marrying Tomas would have been actually pretty great for Feyre. in the sense that, Feyre would no longer carry the burden of her sister. Feyre would not have to worry about feeding one more mouth. or worrying about Nesta's constant stealing of Feyre's money. Feyre does not think Nesta is a "waste of space" to her, if she did, it would have been easy for Feyre to discard Nesta, and allow her to marry Tomas. the anti has that twisted.

but that is not even the worst part of the scene. did you see the shameless slut-shaming that came out of Nesta's mouth? how will the audience take to that? do you think most of the younger generation will take it lightly to see a sister slut-shame a sister? a woman putting down another woman? in this social climate? where the feminism movement is alive and flourishing. will they be okay with it? will they still blame Feyre and be mad at her the way the anti says they will be? I hope not otherwise I'm losing faith in humanity.

Lovely words Nesta spews at Feyre. I admit Feyre should have told her then and there that Tomas is abusive. but let's think: Feyre is 19 years old, the youngest, has never had any raising by a parental figure, has been neglected by her whole family, where would Feyre learn to calmly talk to an overgrown brat like Nesta? Feyre telling Nesta who Tomas truly is the duty of a parent, not a sister. I will not condemn Feyre for not knowing that was the perfect time to tell Nesta who Tomas is. especially when Feyre is being tormented and verbally/emotionally abused, its kinda hard to think about something else while you're being told all these horrible words. to us its easy to see where Feyre went wrong but unless you're in the exact position Feyre was in. no one has any room to talk. and even then, every person is different in situations like these.

this part was me analyzing the interactions between Feyre and Nesta since anti had reasons to believe Feyre was just as bad to Nesta and that the audience would see that and hate Feyre. I am now going to respond to the second part of the Feyre Anti's response.

"How will an audience of non-fans react to her not reaching out to her family to tell them she was okay after the reconciliation between her and Nesta? Or not inviting them to the wedding?"- from anti

moving onto acomaf now.

Idk maybe the audience will see Feyre, a depressed, lonely, individual in an abusive relationship while being manipulated by other individuals she called friends, and understand and empathize with her. all throughout the beginning and half of acomaf, Feyre is in critical depression. she wholeheartedly believes she should not be alive. that she is not worthy. she doesn't eat, all she does is sleep, self-care is not important to her or others so why would letting a family know she's okay, a family who BARELY ever cared about her, be a priority? it doesn't seem like Nesta or elain or her father was really fazed by Feyre's lack of communication. her father left on a trip, elain got engaged and Nesta, well we didn't see a tearful welcoming to Feyre on Nesta's part did we?

anti, where is the outcry of her "family" not even really caring if Feyre was safe or not, of what happened to her? it's not like they thought she had died, otherwise, where was the mourning or funeral? no, they just didn't care.

see this is where I know when anti is just full of bullshit. why, WHY, would Feyre invite her family to wedding full of fae? the creatures elain and Nesta fear and hate? for all the talk many anti's spew about Feyre being inconsiderate to Nesta, to her family, you would think Feyre maybe just knows a fae wedding would be the last thing they would want? even then, does Feyre owe them an invitation to her wedding? does she owe them an update on her life? nope. Feyre owed them nothing.

"How about her shit-talking Nesta to a bunch of strangers then having the audacity to ask her to get involved in a war. Oh! This is after she comes into her house and insults their hospitality." - from anti

I hardly think Feyre confiding in individuals who she learned to care about and laying out all the trauma Feyre endured with her family is "shit-talking" but for argument's sake, let's say it is. I still don't see what's wrong? after years of pent-up anger and hurt, would you not let go of everything you withheld inside and explain what was done to you? how you felt? Feyre telling the IC her life story, which contains Nesta's abuse and her family's neglect, was a form of therapy for Feyre. I never read a line where Feyre calls Nesta a "cold-hearted bitch" or called elain "a lazy ditz" she just said the truth. no added embellishments. Cassian was the one who shit-talked Nesta during the dinner scene, never Feyre.

I still don't understand why antis are so against Feyre asking her sisters for help? like the war didn't involve them? they're humans, and you know what the war was about? Hybern wanting to take control of the human lands like they once did and turn them into slaves. those humans included Nesta and elain.

"They could have left the continent" correct, except elain was engaged and refused to leave Grayson. which meant Nesta refused to leave elain. but even so, isn't it the duty of humans to band together and work to overthrow a race of people who want to torture and keep them as slaves? the queens certainly weren't doing their jobs. Feyre asked to use "their" house to meet the queens bc where else would they do it? the queens trust the fae less than Nesta or elain did. but even so, Feyre asking to use their house was a courtesy, that house is rightfully Feyre's. she is the one who sacrificed herself to leave with Tamlin. she did it bravely, courageously, and they got that house thanks to her. they owed Feyre everything. and the only one who acknowledged that was Elain.

that war involved elain and Nesta whether they or Feyre or the anti's liked it or not. not even considering that Nesta and elain are Feyre Archerons sisters, yeah, their family name alone puts a target on their back.

How did Feyre or the court insult Elain's and Nesta's hospitality? You mean when Feyre realized human food differed from fae food? something she did not know about bc she's barely been turned to fae and only had eaten fae dishes? Feyre's grimace towards the human food was an involuntary reaction to someone who is still learning their new body. or was it when Cassian called out Nesta for her cold treatment towards Feyre? if that's the case then fuck decency, I would call out a fake bitch in my presence from minute one. you cant call what Nesta did "hospitality" when all she did was insult Feyre when she didn't even care that Feyre had died, or lost her love bc of abuse, or that her body was changed against her will.

hospitality: the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers.

did y'all read something different bc this for sure was nothing Nesta gave to her guests?

----

the rest of the anti post moves towards Rhysand and his actions UTM which I won't go into because I'm mainly just addressing the false interpretations this anti had to say about Feyre and her family.

I'm not sure how to sign off now lol, but I guess just that I hope this was enough to show how this anti's arguments were completely ludicrous and have absolutely no compassion for Feyre, and instead all the compassion for Feyre's abusers. This anti had a real spin on what the actual story was, and I hope the evidence I provided was enough to show that. Anyways yeah my brain is fried, and I'm done arguing with Feyre anti's for a while now, I need to go praise my queen Feyre so I can receive some semblance of peace.

anyways, stan Feyre for clear skin xx

[sunflowerandco]

Entranced

One-Shot

A/N: Hi!!! taking a break, but I queued this one shot I wrote a couple weeks ago. I hope you like it!

Rating: T

Summary:  Courtney's beliefs on hypnotism are challenged when she gets hypnotized into pursuing her growing feelings for the rebellious delinquent of their friend group. [Requested]

          Geoff approached their table with their respective drinks in his hands. He handed them out in the order he called them out in.

         "Okay, Long Island iced tea for Bridge, rum and Coke for DJ, red wine for Courtney and two Blue Moons for me and Duncan for whenever he shows up." DJ raised the question. "Where is he anyway? The hypnotist is coming on stage soon."

         "He had an emergency client at the shop. Something about a failed brake? Anyway, he'll be here soon."

         "You can't tell me you guys actually believe this stuff." Bridgette shook off Courtney's doubt.

         "We do! Too bad your boyfriend isn't here to agree with you." Courtney crossed her arms at Bridgette's comment.

         "Duncan is not my boyfriend!"

         "I didn't say a name." Courtney couldn't say anything and decided not to dig the hole she was in even deeper.

         The show started, and the hypnotist, David, brought out a few people from backstage fifteen minutes into the show. He performed a few acts; the first being David making a woman afraid of the word 'balloon'. The second person was brought into a trance and left craving their least favorite food at the sound of a snap. Courtney remained unimpressed and assumed all his tricks were the product of good acting and practice. She rolled her eyes at the last act and the pure theatricality of the last woman clucking like a chicken across the stage as laughter filled the bar. After she ran off backstage, David called to the audience for their participation.

         "So, anyone wanna take a stab at it? Any doubters?" There weren't many people eager to try public humiliation until Bridgette yelled out while grabbing Courtney’s shoulders from behind.

         "She does!" Courtney turned to face her.

         "What?! No!" If there was one thing Courtney hated, it would be having no control of how the public perceived of her. Still, Bridgette persisted and had the assistance of DJ and Geoff now.

         "Come on, Courtney! I thought you didn't believe in it!"

         "I don't, but-" Courtney tried to make her case, but was cut off by the audience's cheering. David reached his hand out to help her get to the stage. Bridgette swore she heard a death threat from Courtney before she gave in and made her way up. There was a chair ready for her facing the audience to which David gestured for her to sit.

         "Now, remember this can only be done at your most relaxed state." She looked up him; her lack of belief resting on her face. He continued. "So, take a deep breath, doe eyes."

         She used those same eyes to roll them at him before taking a deep breath. He held a pendulum in front of her face and the chain with one finger. "All you need to do is follow the motions of this pendulum. Only focus on this object..." Courtney's eyes moved back in forth, mirroring the object before her. The faces she once saw clearly in the audience faded before her as she slipped into a deeper state of relaxation. Before she knew it, the only voice she could hear was David's. She followed every step he had told her.

         "Now, close your eyes. and repeat after me."

         Every time he spoke, she echoed his words.

         "I was wrong."

         "I was wrong."

         "David was right."

         "David was right."

         The crowd filled with laughter as he continued to prove her wrong, and Bridgette was only glad Courtney wouldn't remember this.

         "I will never doubt the power of hypnosis again."

         "I will never doubt the power of hypnosis again."

         David moved on to seal her fate and tried to keep her focus. "Now, can you still hear me?"

         Courtney sat still. David continued. "I want you to think of the person that attracts you the most. The person that makes your heart race at first glance."

         Courtney's mind faltered but still followed instruction.

         "From now on, at the sound of a bell, you will have the urge to kiss that person when you're in the same room. This urge will dissipate after you kiss that person, and the sound of bells won't affect you any longer."

         David continued to give her instruction. "At the snap of my fingers, you will return to us in a relaxed state, and no memory of this conversation."

         David snapped his fingers quickly and Courtney opened her eyes slowly. She felt like she had just woken up from a cat nap. She stretched her arms out before remembering she was on stage. She jumped from the seat and David only gestured to the stairs leading to the bottom of the stage.

         She walked back to their table still confused as ever as her friends suppressed their snickers. Bridgette playfully questioned her, but Courtney didn't answer out of pride. "So, do you believe in it now?"

         In a matter of perfect timing, Duncan rushed to their table from the door and sat down in the empty seat next to Courtney's. He greeted them as he sat down. "Hey guys. Princess. What'd I miss?"

         They looked at each other with all-knowing expressions in an unspoken decision that it would be funnier if he didn’t know what happened. Geoff, the loudest of the three, tried to suppress his laughter as he handed him the bottle, he ordered for him. Duncan furrowed his brow, grabbed it, and used his keys to pop the top off. He looked to Courtney for an answer. "What's wrong with them?"

         Courtney wasn't ready to admit David's line of work was potentially legitimate and that she was the lab rat in the test of faith. She assumed that's why they were laughing, anyway. So, she just shrugged her shoulders while trying not to make eye contact with him. Their conversation ceased when David called for the next participant and Duncan turned his attention to the stage.

         The rest of the night went on with Bridgette, Geoff and DJ making hints only they'd understand, and for the night Courtney and Duncan's joint confusion left them on a team of their own. Duncan didn't mind the excuse for them to share glances every now and then without her pushing him away.

                                                        ***

         Courtney stared up at the elevator dial as she waited for it to reach the lobby. After a long day at the firm, all she wanted was a night in her bathtub and bed. She heard someone enter the building from the blaring sound of the buzzer to let guests in. The person entering found the audacity to stand right next to her, shoulder to shoulder. She was annoyed at first but caught a whiff of his cologne and recognized the scent. Before she turned her head toward him, she heard his voice, and it echoed throughout the empty lobby.

         "Hey, Princess. Long day?"

         "Yes, Neanderthal. And I wish you'd stop calling me that. " Duncan smirked at the opportunity to ignite the flame inside of her. He loved seeing her nose scrunch at his words knowing there was no real annoyance behind the guise of her expressions. He thought it was cute and it the most common reaction to get out of her.

         "But it's just so fitting, babe."

         "It is not! What are you doing here anyway?"

         "Geoff and I are hanging out tonight. You're not the only tenant here." Courtney's attention shifted to the elevator dial when she heard it reached the lobby, and the bell ringed. Courtney's eyes widened and her mind felt lighter as if all her thought prior to this moment disappeared. She remembered where she was when Duncan gestured for her to go into the elevator with his hand.

         "You first, Princess."

         Courtney looked up at him and the first thing she noticed was his lips moving. They were forming words, but she was more focused on the shape as the sound drowned out. Were they always that pink? Her confusion increased when she felt her heart thump loudly in her chest and she quickly looked toward the elevator doors. She walked inside while he followed behind her. He pressed the tenth floor for her and the eleventh for him, the doors closed, and the elevator ascended to their floors. He whipped his head in her direction when she yelled out.

         The rush of her thoughts only compelled her to do one thing, and it felt increasingly difficult to push it away with him around, and the face she resisted to look at to stop her from feeling anything she couldn't control. Still the words echoed in her head one after the other.

         Kiss him! He's right there, and we're finally alone!

         She held her face with her hands and screamed.

        "No!"

        Duncan got closer to her, and that only made it worse for her. He held a genuinely concerned expression on his face.

        "What's wrong with you? Are you scared of the elevator?" She didn't want to explain nor could she, so she went along with his assumption. She nodded in fear of opening her mouth to hear an uncontrolled thought escape from it. She groaned loudly as she tried to subdue her mind's determination for action. Duncan instinctively held her as he tried to keep her from lowering onto the floor, and her arms wrapped around his upper body. Courtney couldn't resist the need to face him as his grip tightened; her composure slowly coming back to her caused her to stand a little straighter, but her breath couldn't catch up with her when her studying eyes shifted from his lips to his eyes. They still sought after hers to reassure her.

        "It's okay, Courtney. Nothing's gonna happen to you." His words slowly softened the intensity of her thoughts. She remembered feeling safer, and what she wanted didn't sound so bad after all.

        Duncan's voice trailed off, and she appeared to relax for a little before he realized how close their faces were. He savored in the fact that he was able to admire every feature without the barrier of their usual deal. He took in just how rounded and big her eyes were and every freckle on her nose. He allowed himself to focus on her lips and their fullness. They were painted in crimson and were... parting? He knew he wasn't just seeing things when he noticed them slowly inching closer to his. As much as he wanted this, he couldn't determine if this was something she really wanted. Everything was all happening way too fast.

        The bell went off again to signal they had reached Courtney's floor, all her need diminished, and her original thoughts piled on her like a ton of sand. She tried to remember getting into the elevator and into Duncan's arms. She enjoyed the feeling of being wrapped in him for a split second before realization hit. She pushed against his chest to separate them; a look of disbelief portrayed on her face as she pretended her heart didn't skip a few beats in between.

        "What are you doing?!"

        "What am I doing?! You were the one freaking out! I was just trying to calm you down because you wouldn't stop yelling!" Courtney held no regard for what he said as embarrassment took over her body. She readjusted the bag on her shoulder while she looked down to avoid eye contact with him again.

        "I don't need you protecting me!" He couldn't say anything else because she stormed off to her apartment letting the doors close on their conversation. Duncan felt frustrated at first, hell, even angry, and confused all in one. He was only given a mere amount of time to process the fact that she was actually leaning in to kiss him. He was wrapped up in frustration like a ribbon, but then it hit him.

        Courtney wanted to kiss me. That is, before she pushed me away for no reason. The thought chimed in his head repeatedly and he smiled to himself when the question that plagued his mind finally had an answer.

                                                        ***

        The moment in the elevator couldn't leave Duncan's mind. What he assumed was a confirmation of her reciprocating feelings made him feel compelled to talk to her about it and get their feelings in order. He buzzed her apartment and made his way upstairs. The tiniest of nerves got to him on the way up. She didn't have to pursue anything, but he still needed clarity from her.

        Courtney was brought back into a trance and took on the same mindset she had in the elevator. She knew she had to answer the door and in her tranced state she hoped it was the person her mind was hellbent on seeing. The trance stunted her speed by keeping her focus on the feeling her had in the elevator, but she quickly snapped out of the haze when the doorbell rang once more. She proceeded like normal to the door to unlock it to see Duncan standing in her doorway. She was confused but seeing him even in an uninfluenced state made her heart race as his arm hovered over the doorframe. She secured her robe as she greeted him and tried to keep an unfazed tone. "Duncan, what are you doing here? Are you here to apologize?" She still had a brief memory of them in the elevator. She wasn't entirely angry with him, but he indeed caught her off guard that day.

        "I wanted to talk to you. Mind if I come in?" Courtney widened the door to let him inside and led Duncan to the living room. Her heart had no plan of soothing to its normal pace as Duncan sat down next to her on the couch. He placed his elbows on his knees and looked toward her before speaking.

        "We need to talk about what happened in the elevator the other day. I don't know what happened to you at the end, but you tried to kiss me." Courtney wouldn't believe him or anything that made her face her feelings.

        "I did not try to kiss you! You were simply holding onto me and I pushed you away. Anyway, you need to go. I'm expecting Bridgette over any minute now."

        Duncan felt anything but encouraged by their exchange of words. He shook his head in frustration at her disbelief. "Fine. If you wanna keep living with selective memory, then by all means-" He was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Courtney turned to him in vehement intent as if a switch had been flipped in her head. The thoughts that raced through her mind previously in this trance came back to her. This time they grew stronger, and she didn't feel compelled to fight against them anymore. They sounded like that of a schoolgirl crush. Duncan's voiced faded slowly into the background.

        "Are you not gonna answer the door?"

        Kiss him! His lips are right in front of your face and he's right here on your couch!

        Drunk on her pervading thoughts, she slowly inched next to him; seeking her hazy ambitions. This time, Duncan was even more perplexed at the situation and he couldn't understand the sequence of events Courtney brought to their circumstance. Before the madness, he understood their relationship to an extent, and all of it managed to derail in a matter of two days out of utter confusion. She got closer to him, holding her hand to his face. "Courtney, do you not remember what you just said, like, two seconds ago?"

        Bridgette rang the doorbell again, and Courtney immediately slipped out of the trance once again.

        “See? I knew you wanted to kiss me.”.

        “What the hell are you talking about?”

        Duncan stood up from the couch; his brain was tired of the mental gymnastics at this point. “Okay, now you’re making me feel like I’m crazy-“

        “If the shoe fits, wear it.” Courtney opened the door to find Bridgette outside. She was ready with questions after hearing them yelling from the other side of the door.

        "What's going on in here? What are you guys yelling about this time?" Courtney led her to her living room and gestured to Duncan before she explained her side of the story.

        "This Neanderthal thinks I want to kiss him! He keeps up coming up with these stories that didn't even happen."

        Duncan offered his side this time. "They DID happen. And every time I try to tell her, she acts like she doesn't remember!"

        Bridgette sighed and looked at the both of them. Bridgette answered Duncan, not eager to explain to them without creating this awkward moment of realization for Courtney. "Because she can't remember them."

        Courtney looked at her incredulously and crossed her arms. "What are you talking about? You believe him?"

        Bridgette continued and tried to keep her tone calm as Courtney's intensified. "The hypnotist gave you the urge to kiss Duncan at the sound of a bell."

        Duncan and Courtney let out a simultaneous “What?!”

        Courtney surprised tone didn't match Duncan's humored one. She fumed at the thought of her friends causing all this humiliation she couldn't even remember for the past three days. “Why would you guys make me want to kiss Duncan?!”

        “The hypnotist told you to think of the person you’re most attracted to, so we didn’t choose him. You did.”

        Courtney eyes shifted to the side while her ears burned cherry-red at the fact. She looked down so she couldn't face either one of them.

        "Oh." She didn't argue back, letting Bridgette finish her explanation.

        “Yes. And it’ll only end once you actually kiss him.”

        Duncan added on to the conversation with growing frustration. “Which she has been trying to do until you came in!”

        She turned to face him, her face still bright red as ever. “Shut up!”

        “Okay, then. I’ll leave. It's not like you didn't want to do it before he hypnotized you.” Bridgette made her way toward the door and Courtney yelled out for her.

        "Wait! Can you ring the bell so I can get rid this stupid trance?" Bridgette nodded and closed the door behind her.

        "So, ready to admit you have the hots for me?"

        "Even if I did, why would it matter? At the end of the day, you wouldn't last long enough dating me."

        "Would it kill you to have a little faith in anything?" He turned to face her. "I'll be the first to admit it: I like you, Courtney.  I like you enough to come back here. I-I like you enough to " Bridgette rang the doorbell, and Duncan called out behind the closed door. "We're not ready!"

        Bridgette yelled back. "Sorry! Can't hear you."

        All the build up from the last two trances returned to the forefront of Courtney's mind. She looked up to see him in front of her, and her eyes fixated on his lips again. In one gesture, Courtney grabbed his face and placed her lips on top of his rather forcefully in quick motion. She felt herself being brought back to reality and out of the trance she was put under by David, but when she pulled apart from him the craving never died down. She was fully aware of exactly what she wanted. Courtney looked into Duncan's eyes for a second and noticed the seriousness of his expression. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again with the same force. His eyes shut instantly at the collision, and his arms pulled her in closer to him. Her lips began to overlap his in her desperate need to taste him, and Duncan smiled into the kiss while running a hand through her hair. Courtney sighed while they continued, and he swore he heard a moan escape of out her mouth. They were finally able to give into the thoughts of each other that persisted often in the night. He was as spellbinding as she imagined at this, and she gasped when he ran his tongue on her upper lip. She gave him the access he needed, and the feeling shot to her core.

        It was everything he could've wanted to happen between them. He wished for more opportunities like this one as he pulled her in closer to the point where their bodies were pressed against each other. As much as he wanted this to go on, her words still played over in his head. He broke them apart; their breaths trying hard to catch up with them. He looked at her as he posed the question; his arms still held her around her waist. "What about what you said earlier?" Courtney shook her head to dismiss his doubt. She was too enthralled by him to keep up the façade she maintained around their group of friends.

        "Forget what I said. I was just too scared to admit that I like... you?" Duncan smiled at her revelation and playfully poked fun at their predicament, still satisfied with the outcome.

        "So much you had to be hypnotized to do it?" Courtney shut him up again when she attached her lips back to his in an intoxicating pace, and her hands made their way through his dark hair. The weight on her shoulders completely lifted at the confession; she felt happy to feel weightless in Duncan's hold. They held little regard for Bridgette's questions from the other side as their pace escaladed slowly.

        "Do you guys really still need me to stand here?"

        "Guys! Hello?!"

[orsuliya]

Is Zitan... becoming a somewhat competent ruler at long last? I know, it sounds absolutely crazy, but bear with me!

To be honest, I was expecting some prime passive-aggressive behaviour from our Master of Mope, even when three layers deep in Ningshuo soldiers. Not like self-preservation ever was a factor with that guy, right? But no. Zitan has a plan! One that could have plausibly come from Prime Minister Wen. It does seem rather in line with his earlier advice on how to deal with this Xiao Qi problem. But even so, Zitan puts a special Zitan spin on this whole mourning ceremony! You’ll see.

Zitan goes through all the appropriate steps without any incident, all while under watchful eyes of judge, jury and executioner Xiao Qi, Hu Yao and Tang Jing. There is not much one can find fault in, really. Perhaps his movements are somewhat perfunctory and curiously lacking in true imperial dignity, but it’s not like that’s a criminal offense, right? The really interesting part starts once the official ceremony is done.

Zitan gets up, very purposefully checks out Xiao Qi’s reaction and only then turns around to the crowd in order to deliver a truly brilliant piece of political maneuvering. Namely, a speech. And not just any speech, no! A Noble and Glorious Speech as befits a Noble and Glorious Emperor.

Somewhere between checking Xiao Qi out and his first word Zitan found a shred of actual human emotion in his emo heart! Must have been buried beneath the usual contents of Awu-Awu-Awu, petty maliciousness and flute scores. Or... he’s just acting. You pick!

Ah, yes, the speech. Zitan addresses Ningshuo soldiers and only Ningshuo soldiers, throws in a bit of flattery and stresses that they are Prince Yuzhang’s beloved officers, which may be a dig at Xiao Qi’s emotional investment... or a prelude to taking over the narrative. Because the next thing that comes out of his lying mouth is that they are also his beloved officers. And once he’s sunk his teeth into the narrative, by gods, he’s going to run away with it!

Nigshuo guys are so awesome and they have suffered so much for this country! And now - for some truly mysterious reason! - they were betrayed and led to slaughter! But never worry, Zitan will right this great injustice. He would be unworthy of their respect if he didn’t! But he will! So he is! And he’s amazing, really, they should know that by know. Since, you know, no Emperor has ever held a ceremony for dead soldiers. And the court was not all that happy with the idea, so isn’t Zitan doubly amazing for doing it anyway? But it’s the right thing to do and from this day forward it’s going to be the new black. He, Zitan, says so!

Yeah, okay, I’m paraphrasing, but you get the gist. Somehow he even manages to sound halfway convincing... although not convincing enough for his ministers.

Gu Himbo is WTFing, Prime Minister Wen is pretending he’s somewhere far away (which I don’t blame him for) and the guy in the middle, well, I do believe he’s hella amused.

Then Zitan turns back to Xiao Qi, still all afire and in crocodile tears... and actually bows. Just a little, but. And then he swans away, leaving Xiao Qi absolutely stumped.

Well, Xiao Qi really is stumped. I don’t think the poor dear can properly compute; wasn’t he forced to practically drag Zitan here on swordpoint? But the problem lies elsewhere: Zitan’s performance was really not that bad and to somebody unused to his usual brand of Zitanness, it could go over as quite sincere. Hu Yao, for one, is pretty moved by this speech.

It’s not that Xiao Qi is unable to comprehend that people lie. It’s that Zitan’s audacity is truly staggering, enough for it to cause some serious doubt. I mean, what is more probable? That Xiao Qi is missing some piece of the puzzle or that Zitan would feel no compunction whatsoever about mourning his victims and demanding justice for them with actual tears in his eyes? Okay, stupid question. But really, to Xiao Qi Zitan might as well be an actual alien, that’s how much difference there is between their respective moral codes. Also, it’s not like Xiao Qi is capable of much logical reasoning at that moment, due to his own grief.

And oh, does he grieve. He needs to take a moment to compose himself, but before he does...

I don’t even need to mention that we get flashbacks galore, do I? And a very neat counterbalance to what is, in its essence, a political occasion, even if for Xiao Qi and his men it may not be so; at the very same moment that the official ceremony is taking place, Awu conducts her own private one.

And she, unlike Zitan, has no reason to play up her grief for an audience since she has none; the only people present are Auntie Xu (acting as Awu’s support?) and the Yuzhang Housekeeper, whose son died under Xiao Qi’s command. This act of mourning is not done for the benefit of anybody, even Awu’s husband; it is a matter solely between her and those fallen men. And I’m going to beat this metaphor to death, but the juxtaposition between those two very different mourning ceremonies shows once again Awu and Xiao Qi taking their respective roles as Mother and Father. Xiao Qi is out there, fighting for justice and reputation, while Awu stays close to home, taking care of souls. Sorry, I just think it’s really neat...?

[yanara126-writing]

The Miracle of Verdant Vorlas

It's time for Eothas to truly show his presence in the most effective way, and Waidwen is prepared to do whatever is necessary. It doesn't go quite as planned.

Read here or on Ao3

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

Waidwen had known this day would come. He’d not known that it’d be today, but it didn’t surprise him. This was the biggest crowd he’d drawn yet. Of course they’d choose a time when they’d have an audience. Yes, he’d known, he was prepared for whatever they’d put him through. He could do this. They could this.

You’re afraid. It wasn’t a question, just a calm statement, holding no judgement but simple understanding.

Yes, he was afraid. He watched the guards push through the people and wanted to hide in a corner far away. (Where his father wouldn't reach him.) He felt something warm creep over him, almost like the idea of a hug. He let himself sink into the feeling for just a few seconds.

You don't have to do this alone. I will be with you the whole time. And wasn't that part of the issue. The temptation to just give in, to let Eothas take over, to draw back and hide from the pain that was sure to come. He knew Eothas would let him, if he asked. But no, he wouldn’t be a hypocrite. The change he was about to bring would hurt, and he would face it like all the others. And the time wasn't right just yet. They might know how to make an action grand, but so did Waidwen.

The guards arrived and climbed up the speaker's platform. He didn’t resist when they forced him to his knees. He winced when they pulled his arms behind him and put him in chains, but still didn’t object. The crowd on the other hand became more unsettled by the second. There were cries of protest, but no one dared actually intervene. The guards weren't known for their mercy towards rebels.

When they were sure he was secured, the enforcer stepped on the wooden platform. He was a short, round man who looked like he would be faster rolling than walking. Seeing him made Waidwen's blood boil again. He let the anger drown out the fear and forced a tight smile onto his face.

“Chains, really? Doesn't that seem a bit excessive?” And it was. He was just as emaciated as the rest of the common people here. He hadn't eaten properly in weeks and probably wouldn't have been able to tear even the thinnest rope. Not that he thought the other man would be able to, he doubted there were any muscles under all that fat. Fat he’d gained by starving his people, while they toiled on fields each day.

“You’re the one claiming to be a god's avatar.” The man sneered down at him as if he was little more than dirt on his shoe. Oh, how he wanted to burn that arrogance of his hanging-cheek-face. Preferably literally. But that’d be overkill and would cost more energy than the maggot deserved.

“In that case chains will hardly hold me, no?” He said with a grin Ondra's fiercest sharks would be proud of. It was incredibly satisfying to see the doubt creeping into those pig eyes. May the pigs forgive him for that comparison.

“We’ll see about that, blasphemer!” The man was spitting more than talking, with most of it landing on Waidwen, who sneered in disgust and vowed to find the nearest river to take a bath as soon as this was over.

Indeed, we will. ‘See about that or take a bath?’ The presence flared up lightly in a warm and soft way that Waidwen had come to identify as amusement. Both.

“Now, blasphemer, we will recount your crimes, so that the people you mislead will see what an atrocious heretic you truly are!” Oh, this would be interesting. What they lacked in compassion, they certainly made up for in creativity. He’d heard many interesting explanations that he knew now were utter horse shit. The famines for example. Their payment was meagre on account of supposedly missing profits. The truth was, their pay had steadily declined ever since the Dyrwood had won it’s independence. The harvest was by no means good, but had been unchanging for the last hundred years.

The enforcer pulled a scroll out of his bag, broke the seal and cleared his throat. Not that it actually helped him. The people didn't seem inclined to listen to him defame their champion. They only grew quiet when Waidwen let his eyes roam over them. It didn’t help the enforcer’s confidence and Waidwen allowed himself the satisfaction of it.

“Now listen closely peasant, for you stand accused of the following crimes before his majesty by divine right the ferscönyng: Intoxication!” As if there was anything else to do in this shithole aside from starving and drinking, if you could even get your hands on something, that is. Not that he’d done much of the latter in recent times. He hadn’t touched a bottle since that day in the field. There were more important things to do.

“Animancy!” Still not terribly interesting. He didn't have the funds to attempt such a costly practice and everyone knew. No one here did.

“Exhuming the dead!” Yes, because clearly digging up corpses is what someone inhabited by the god of rebirth would do. He rolled his eyes.

We could. Though I have to admit, I never tried my hand at actual necromancy. Waidwen snorted quietly at that.

‘And we should probably leave it at that.’

Probably.

“Cruel statements to a child!”

“As opposed to your letting them starve?” Waidwen turned his head just enough to give the man a questioning, but no less condescending look. The crowd stirred again. The guards stepped forward, hands threateningly on their weapons. The people grumbled but stood down. The enforcers spluttered indignantly, throwing his hands around as if to ask the surrounding folk for support against Waidwen’s audacity. When no one reacted, he pulled back and tried to play it off with little success. The mood was clear.

“Consorting with a cean gŵla!”

Ew.

As much as Waidwen wanted to keep up his show of defiance, he had to lower his head at that or everyone would see the slightly deranged grin he was trying so hard to suppress. There was just something about a divine entity saying 'ew' that was much more entertaining than one would think.

I'm glad you find me so humorous. The voice was soft and laced with slight amusement. It gave him comfort to be reminded of some other feeling than his current rage and fear that made his skin crawl. A small part of Waidwen not preoccupied with the situation suspected Eothas' comment might’ve been more for his benefit than an actual expression of opinion. He took a deep breath, put his mask of confidence back on and faced the people again.

“Indiscretion with an animancer!” Waidwen looked at the enforcer again and raised an eyebrow.

“You probably should’ve led with that. After a cean gŵla an animancer seems like a let-down.” The man’s face grew red and he spluttered again. Waidwen did not have time to savour his victory however, when a guard came up behind him and bashed him over the head with the end of his spear. The force of the blow ripped his head to the side. Even through the ringing in his ears he could hear the shrieks of protest from the masses beneath.

“Silence, accused! You are to listen to your charges! Do you see what a villain it is you are lending your ear to? Silence, I say!” This attempt yielded no better results than the first. The crowd quieted down again, though openly hostile now. The enforcer was sweating and clearly uncomfortable.

The ringing in Waidwen’s ears let up and his previously spotty vision returned as a light warmth spread through his head. Careful to not let his quick recovery show too much he blinked and lifted his head again.

‘Thank you.’ Don't thank me yet. I doubt that was the worst of it. Instead of the former lightness the voice was now heavy with something that might’ve been grim anticipation, if the Child of Light was even capable of that. But Waidwen had learned in the last few weeks that the gods were much more than just ideals, or perhaps less, depending on your viewpoint.

“The next of your crimes: Making lewd gestures at a woman!” He was certainly tempted to make lewd gestures, but as far as he was aware, there were no women under the potential receivers. And if there were, he certainly didn't care. His regard for gender had significantly dropped in recent times. Not that he’d ever understood all the commotion the nobles made about it in the first place. The women had to work as hard the men out here and nobody batted an eye about it. Besides, Magran was a woman and he was fairly certain she would rain fiery vengeance on anyone who would dare treat her like some delicate flower.

I would indeed advise against that. Though I fear in our case it would hardly make a difference. What followed almost sounded like a sigh. He was rather trying to avoid thinking about that. Ending the aedyran tyranny was one thing, facing down gods another.

A kick to the stomach reminded him of his current issues and he doubled over, pulling in a sharp breath. He should probably focus on the moment.

“Public Indecency!” A breathless laugh escaped him. “And that from the man who I'm sure will demand my shirt soon.” Another kick set his ribs aflame and nearly toppled him. He could feel the warmth rising again, but pushed it down determinedly. Healing that would be too obvious. He could take some bruised ribs if it meant more effect later.

If you are certain... Eothas obviously wasn't, but would respect his wishes, like always. Sometimes Waidwen was tempted to test out just how far his patience could be stretched. Thankfully there was something else to claim his attention and distract him from that dangerous line of thought at the moment.

At this point the enforcer was profoundly flustered, whether from embarrassment, anger or fear of the increasingly angry mob Waidwen didn't know. Whatever it was, it caused him to choke out the last accusations in quick succession. “Venereal disease! Sabotage! Impiety! And of course, sedition!” The man was breathing hard, as if he’d been the one being beaten. It was obvious that he didn't want to be here anymore than Waidwen himself, but just like Waidwen he didn't have much choice in it either. He’d started this mess and now he’d have to live through it. And they both knew it. He swallowed hard and motioned for the guards to draw a bit closer before continuing.

“Do you deny these accusations?” Waidwen slowly straightened again and let out a few controlled breaths to sooth his sore ribs before answering.

“I’ll deny only the ridiculous ones. I don’t deny the sabotage of the tyrannical regime starving it's people. I don’t deny what you call sedition, because a government that's harming it's own subjects must fall, and it’ll fall by the hands of it’s own suffering people, so that this country may see the light of a new dawn! I don't deny that my actions must look like impiety to you, for you have perverted the faith of Eothas to darkness and despair, and so can’t recognize his light and hope staring in your face!” The speech wasn't quite as impulsive as he tried to make it look. He wasn't terribly good at talking actually, but he also didn’t want to completely rely on Eothas, so he did his best to plan ahead. He was quite good at that, after all, you couldn't properly cultivate land without being able to think ahead and acclimate to changes. Impulsive or not, it did have it's desired effect. The people cheered and the guards couldn't effectively move in without leaving the enforcer defenceless. Waidwen gave himself a bit of time to collect his thoughts and prepare himself, before he spoke up again.

“I stand by my actions. I don’t regret them and have no intention of stopping. But I'm no hypocrite. They are crimes, no matter how justified and I will face the punishment for them.” The no doubt humiliating and painful punishment. A prolonged lashing if he had to guess. He closed his eyes.

‘Please don't leave me through this.’ I won't. You won't feel it, I promise. The words were warm and comforting. They spread a mantle of peace over him and pushed down the fear that was slowly threatening to choke him. He let it happen and sank back into himself to wait out the squabbling facade of a trial to choose an already set punishment. After a few minutes of meditation, he was roused by a sudden increase in volume.

“So it shall be! The accused shall be subjected to 30 public lashes, they are to be carried out immediately!” The crowd roared. If they were angry before, they were furious now. 30 lashes wouldn't necessarily kill him, but with his not exactly peak physical condition it might, or would at best do serious damage. To their knowledge at least.

“I consent.” He didn't raise his voice any louder than his usual speaking voice. He didn't need to. It’d been one of the first things Eothas had taught him, how to speak with authority. Everything grew silent around him. The common people stared at him in horror and he forced a slight smile on his face. It became a bit easier when he felt another warm caress, like a steadying hand on his back.

The enforcer had obviously no idea how to react. He was staring at Waidwen like the rest, the scroll still in hand. He’d expected the calm to break at the reveal of the sentence. He’d expected protest, curses, anything, but not this unbroken acceptance. How someone could so confidently agree to be being beaten half to death, he didn't understand. Unless the man wanted to martyr himself? That would be very inconvenient, but there was no dignified way back anymore.

Behind him Waidwen could hear the man breathing heavily and he imagined the blood red face sweating bullets, but didn't deign to look at him. Instead he let his gaze wander over the crowd in front of him. Most were men his age, some were older and he could even see a few mother's with young children clinging to their skirts. All of them were dressed poorly, some with hardly more than rags. They stared at him with desperate eyes in gaunt faces. His determination rose and this time it wasn't because of the Divinity bonded to his soul. This was the reason he had agreed to this insanity. He would make everything better for these people, no matter the price. No other child would suffer as he had.

We will make sure of it. A promise ringing with their shared conviction.

He’d weed out the pests that had taken root here. One after another, starting here and ending wherever necessary.

Finally, life seemed to return to the people around him. A guard stepped onto the podium carrying a solid wooden pillar so large it was impressive he could even lift it. With a resounding thump the pole was set down. Someone removed the chains from his arms, only to wrench them forward and above his head. The chains came on again and were fastened to the top of the pole where an iron ring just for this purpose was hammered in. From the people below he could hear shuffling and quiet sobs. With his arms in front of his face he couldn't see them, but what he heard was enough.

Suddenly he felt a cold knife at his ribs, slicing off his shirt and into his skin, leaving a shallow but burning cut. And while that was painful, that had also been his last halfway decent shirt. The annoyance at having to find, probably make, another one was far better to concentrate on than the fact that he could hear someone unravel a whip.

The first hit took him by surprise, even though he knew it was coming. He heard the snap of the whip and the people's outcry and then felt a short pressure pushing him forward a little, but just like Eothas had promised, there was no bite to it. Instead it felt like someone had drawn a line of warm honey over his back, or at least what he imagined that would feel like.

The second hit added another stripe, and though the feeling itself wasn't painful, Waidwen couldn't help but remember the last time he’d been whipped. It’d been more than four years ago, but he never forgot any of them. The last time had been only weeks before his father had died, and perhaps he'd known and wanted to make one last impression, because that time had been by far the worst. They'd argued the whole night and he'd skipped mess the following morning, watching the dawn from a nearby hill instead. When he'd returned, father had waited for him with the belt. Waidwen hadn't complained, it wouldn't have accomplished anything. The beating he'd taken that day had left him unable to move properly for days.

The third hit came with a pain that he knew wasn't real and only came from his memory. It didn't hurt any less for it. In some corner of his perception he could feel the presence in him shift a little with something that almost seemed like guilt.

The fourth hit came slower, more hesitantly. He concentrated on the warm, almost viscous feeling the blows left on his back instead of the pain he knew should accompany them.

After the fifth one they stopped entirely. Waidwen heard the shuffling of feet and agitated whispers behind him. He tried to take a deep breath, to anchor himself in the here and now, but stopped and winced when his sore ribs protested.

The whispers stopped and the enforcer spoke up with a voice so trembling it almost made the fear worth it. “The... the point has been made. Be thankful that we are so merciful to end your deserved punishment early. Let it... let it be lesson to you, next time we'll... we won't be so merciful!”

Oh no, he wouldn't let them get away that easily. Waidwen called upon Eothas and, as always, He obliged. When Waidwen spoke next, Gaun spoke with him: “No. You will reap what you have sown. You called for a punishment, now it must be finished.”

The feeling of the hard wood under his knees faded away, as did the weight on his arms. What remained was an all-encompassing buzz and the peripheral awareness of what was happening around him. Peripheral, but absolute. He didn't see, but he knew the people the people were staring with awe and terror. He didn't hear, but he knew some of them were uttering prayers. Just as he knew the majority of fear stood behind him. He knew one of the guards had a young daughter, who’d just received her ordination to the priesthood of Eothas. He knew another one was a follower of Woedica and was currently reconsidering his faith. And he knew the enforcer was stewing in his own terror, slowly realizing that he'd never had any real control over the situation in the first place.

Waidwen was aware of the whip hitting the ground and the soldier who'd held it stepping back, even though His ears felt like they were filled with cotton. He knew the man did it out of fear of divine vengeance against his recently deceased son. Just as He knew, the man who picked it up, hoped for a promotion back to Aedyr. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the power suddenly at His disposal. The power of a god.

All of his former fear bled away into nothing as the vastness of Eothas’ being overtook his senses. What remained was absolute conviction. The limits of His consciousness were fuzzy and the small part of him still aware of himself was deeply uncomfortable, but the majority was entirely overwhelmed by the feeling.

They had joined before, but never with this intensity. The only time that had come close was in the very beginning, in the field, and that had left him unconscious for hours. But not this time. This time They had something to prove, and nothing would stop Them.

So the punishment continued. They knelt on the ground and waited. Every hit heightened the already tense atmosphere. They didn’t count the blows; They didn’t need to. The people around Them knew, so They knew. Time passed both incredibly slow and immensely fast. It felt like everything around Them was in sharp focus, yet so inconsequential that time didn’t waste itself on it.

When the whip fell for the thirtieth time, the last bond keeping Their power restrained fell away. Instead of keeping it concentrated in Themselves, They let the floodgates open and the energy surged out into the physical world. With nerves that didn’t quite feel like they belonged to Them, They felt heat a human body shouldn’t be able to withstand, heard a bubbling and following clank, saw a blazing light illuminate Their surroundings, emanating from Them. An eternity passed in a second, spent finding Their place in the physical form They now shared. Only there was no sharing anymore. No Them, just a single entity with a single purpose.

The people saw none of the intricate mechanisms behind the merging of two very different souls happening right in front them. What they did see was a divine miracle without comparison. As soon as the last stroke had been dealt, Waidwen’s body was engulfed pure light. The metal chains glowed red and melted off His arms, falling to the ground unheeded. The light was bright enough to illuminate even the furthest and darkest corners, leaving no place to hide. Many of the onlookers fell to their knees, including some of the guards on the platform. Those who didn’t were either completely rigid or scrambling to get away. The man, if he even still was a man, in middle of the commotion didn’t seem to notice either way. He rose from his knees with a fluidity and grace that made the spectators question if He’d really moved at all. When He spoke, it wasn’t any louder than before, but His voice most definitely wasn’t human anymore. It carried such power, that it continued to reverberate deep in their souls, long after the words had reached their ears.

“See now, your suffering was never meant to be. You were deceived by those meant to deliver my will, betrayed by those meant to carry my lantern to guide you. But the world will be dark no longer. Hear what is said today, follow my guiding light, and rise above your existence as victims. Fill your hearts with splendour, for the time has come to let your actions shine brighter than their falsehoods. Banish all fears and unite with all who wish to see the light as you do. By the hands of hope the dawn of a new day shall rise over Readceras and you will be my harbingers.”

No one dared so much as breathe throughout the speech. After almost a minute of silence, a young man jumped to his feet, cheering and screaming praises. Like a wildfire it spread through the masses and soon the town square was filled with screams of joy. No one was still anymore and the air was filled with excitement. A god had spoken, and no in uncertain terms. The time of meek submission was over and the feverish anticipation of the coming fight permeated the atmosphere. With a god, their god, leading them, how could they lose?

The being their god and champion had become still stood on the stage, overlooking the scene. The satisfaction of an accomplished goal filled It, nothing else was of import. After all, what could possibly be able to stop It now?

Suddenly the world split again with violence. The being was gone, back in It’s place were a human and a god who’d just been violently torn apart and were now struggling to fit back into their former shapes. The edges where the essence of their souls had been split were raw and coated with a feeling Eothas wasn’t quite able to identify in his confusion.

Waidwen meanwhile howled with pain. Something had left a deep burning gash across his back and with reflexes gained from more angry brawls than he wanted to admit, he thrust his elbow back with as much force as he could muster. His arm met resistance and a soft crunch was heard, followed by a pained shriek and the thud of a body hitting wood. Waidwen took no notice of it. He was gasping in pain and desperately scrambling to make sense of the situation. Something hesitantly rose in him and he automatically latched onto the familiar presence. Eothas carefully returned the gesture and the bloody gash across Waidwen’s back closed under his cautious attention. With the biggest distraction out of the way, Waidwen noticed that he wasn’t the only one shaken up. Where Eothas usually felt like a steady thrum of energy, his essence now flickered erratically.

Behind them someone groaned and Waidwen immediately spun around, suddenly reminded of where he was. On the ground lay the guard who’d whipped him, holding his bleeding and shattered nose, a bloodied sword on the ground next to him. The rest of the delegation stood frozen in fear. At being presented with a new task, Waidwen quickly pushed the last few minutes to the furthest corner of his mind and did his best to look as imposing as possible in his rattled state. He stepped determinedly over the writhing guard on the ground and cornered the enforcer. He glared down at the man who cowered beneath his gaze and looked like he’d just pissed himself.

“You’ll take your men and return to the governor. You’ll tell him that he has one chance to leave willingly. If he doesn’t, he’ll have to face the wrath of the people he terrorized. And mine.” He all but growled the last two words. The enforcer nodded hurriedly and scrambled to get away, but Waidwen grabbed at him the collar, holding tight. “Aren’t you forgetting something,” he said pointedly and gestured at his trembling assailant. At the enforcer’s shaking sign two other guards stepped forward, grabbed their now sobbing companion and dragged him off the stage as fast as they could. Only when they were out of sight did Waidwen loosen his grip. The other man took his chance and fled, almost tripping on the steps down in his panicked haste.

With the message passed on, Waidwen noticed that there were still more people. The commoners had gone quiet again when the light had died down and had watched the happenings with confused attention. Now they were staring at him, both awed and confused about what they should do now. They were looking to him for the guidance he’d promised. Only Waidwen was as confused as they were and not exactly at his best at the moment. Eothas was strangely quiet and both of them were hesitant to interact again after what had just happened, their essences dancing around each other like two flames in the wind.

Waidwen himself had trouble remembering the exact course of events. It felt removed from him, like he’d watched it happen through a thick fog. All that remained was a profound sense of unease and the fear of losing control again. Trying to get his bearings, he couldn’t do anything but stand and feel awkward. Once again he was very aware of his own shortcomings. He was just a farmer, he’d never learned how to lead and the one who’d promised to help him had pulled back so much, that the only affirmation of his continued presence was the vague unrest, that didn’t belong to him, simmering through.

A light breeze passed through and Waidwen shivered, reminding him that he was still half naked, making him even more self-conscious than before. He’d never been ashamed of his body, but now with over a hundred people staring at him, he could feel the blood shoot into his face.

Suddenly he felt a soft weight being placed on his shoulders and flinched. The weight turned out to be a guard’s purple cloak and when he turned around, he found that two knights had stayed, looking about as uncomfortable as he felt. One of them was missing his cloak and holding the pin with the emperor’s crest in his still raised hands. They looked at each other shortly and with a sudden burst of determination the other one also pulled off his pin and they both hurled it to the ground, shattering it. They looked up to Waidwen again, a hesitant spark of hope in their eyes.

The wordless declaration of loyalty rattled something loose in Waidwen and with a start he straightened, pulling in a deep breath. He had a job to do. He thanked the knight, pulled the cloak closer and started organizing the people. Now that they’d made their official debut, everything had to go fast or it’d become a lot bloodier than he wanted to. While delegating the different tasks that needed to be done, he mentally poked Eothas, who immediately started, as if being woken from a trance.

I apologize. I shouldn’t have left you alone. The voice sounded more sheepish than Waidwen had ever heard from him. Somehow Eothas not being his usual confident, righteous self, disturbed him almost more than the actual situation. The idea that He might not know what exactly they were doing any more than Waidwen, was more distressing than he’d ever expected.

‘It’s fine. I’ve got it handled now.’ That sounded like a lie, even to himself, but Eothas didn’t comment on it. They both chose to leave the dragon in room unmentioned. Both them were disturbed by the loss of control they’d just lived through. And though both of them knew, thanks to the connection they shared, neither wanted to admit it.

‘Do you think we can do it?’ Waidwen surprised himself with the sudden seed of doubt, but with how unsettled he was, maybe he shouldn’t have been shocked.

I think with that presentation, there will be few people who will try to stop us from freeing Readceras. Not exactly the answer Waidwen had wanted to hear, but he didn’t doubt Eothas was aware of that. Freeing Readceras wasn’t what he was worried about. He felt awkward and at times unfit for the task, but he knew they could do it. The two knights had been a surprise, but a welcome one. It showed that some of the upper classes could be convinced to follow their cause. Now that Waidwen had come down from his adrenalin high, that gave him a healthy dose of confidence that he’d be able to end this with less bloodshed than he’d feared. What would come after was what scared him.

He was tempted to pry, but at the same time he feared what he’d find. Instead he decided to take it as advice and focus on the present. There was enough to do now. Messages to send out, people to convince, supplies and especially provisions to organize. A successful rebellion didn’t run it itself, that notion had cost the few revolutions before him their victories.

‘And maybe I’ll even be able to find myself a shirt before this is all over,’ he added mentally and arranged the cloak differently, when another shiver passed through his body. Then the cold let up and a gentle, familiar warmth spread through him, accompanied by another quiet apology. Waidwen tensed, but when nothing else happened, he relaxed and enjoyed the tender feeling wrapped around him, much softer than a cloak could ever be. Yes, they could do this. And whatever had happened today, they’d be able to handle it, together.

Together.

[thecinephale]

Best Movies of 2017

I’m so excited that many of the great films this year did so well at the box office and are such a big part of the awards conversation. I’m grateful that every year brings great works of cinema, but it’s even better when a bunch of people actually get to see them.

This is the first year I’m not counting miniseries. The lines are becoming too blurred between TV and film and also nobody needs me to say again how much I love Jane Campion and Top of the Lake: China Girl.

Still need to see: All the Money in the World, Berlin Syndrome, Graduation, Happy End, In the Fade, Loveless, Lovesong, Prevenge, Princess Cyd, Professor Marston and the Wonder Women, A Quiet Passion, Slack Bay, Staying Vertical, Thelma, Woodshock

If your favorite movie isn’t on this list maybe I didn’t see it because a sexual predator was involved or maybe it was just a really crowded year with a lot of really good movies!

Honorable Mentions: -Battle of the Sexes (dir. Valerie Faris and Jonathan Dayton) -The Beguiled (dir. Sofia Coppola) -Call Me By Your Name (dir. Luca Guadagnino) -Colossal (dir. Nacho Vigalondo) -Columbus (dir. Kogonada) -A Fantastic Woman (dir. Sebastian Lelio) -Good Time (dir. Josh and Benny Safdie) -Landline (dir. Gillian Robespierre) -Lemon (dir. Janicza Bravo) -Logan Lucky (dir. Steven Soderbergh) -Parisienne (dir. Danielle Arbid) -Phantom Thread (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson) -Wonder Woman (dir. Patty Jenkins)

15. Planetarium (dir. Rebecca Zlotowski)

The first two movies on this list got fairly bad reviews so take my opinions as you will. And I get why many struggled with this film. Not only is it dealing with a wide swath of issues, but it’s also doing so with a variety of different tools. It dabbles in the occult, but it’s not a horror movie. It’s a period piece, but feels of the present. It suggests romance, suggests betrayal, suggests familial tension, yet… But here’s what’s great. It’s gorgeous. With some of the best cinematography of the year (Georges Lechaptois), some of the best production design of the year (Katia Wyszkop), and easily the best costumes of the year (Anaïs Romand) it’s compulsively watchable. Combine that with Natalie Portman’s incredibly grounding performance and I was more than willing to go along with Zlotowski as she explored the history of images, the power of images, and the danger of images without committing to a conventional structure.

14. It’s Only the End of the World (dir. Xavier Dolan)

I don’t know how anyone could love Dolan’s other films and dislike this one. It’s such a perfect embodiment of Dolan’s career thus far. Dolan’s films are operatic because he understands that for individuals their problems are operatic. Pretty much every family has conflict, disagreements, scars, but that can’t be dismissed so easily when they are OUR conflicts, OUR disagreements, OUR scars. I love how much respect Dolan always has for that truth. The cast is filled with French cinema royalty and they fully live up to the material’s grounded melodrama.

13. The Lure (dir. Agnieszka Smoczynska)

There’s one key reason this vampiric Polish horror-musical retelling of The Little Mermaid works in a way that other adaptations fall short. Sure, the sheer audacity of that genre mashup makes for a fascinating and unique viewing experience. But what ultimately makes it work emotionally and thematically is that it’s about two mermaids. This was always intended as the initial concept was a horror-less, mermaid-less musical about the Wrońska Sisters (who wrote all the songs in this). But still Smoczynska and her screenwriter Robert Bolesto really manage to keep all that’s wonderful about the source material while contextualizing its complexity. I’ve softened on the Disney version over the years, but it still can be painful watching Ariel change herself for a man (especially when one of those changes is not speaking). Here the presence of her sister, sometimes judging, always worried, creates a circumstance that allows this film’s “little mermaid” to make the realistic mistakes of a teen girl in love with a boy and in hate with herself, without the filming giving its seal of approval. There’s no judgment one way or the other. It’s just real. All that aside this is a vampiric Polish horror-musical retelling of The Little Mermaid. Like, come on. Go buy the Criterion edition!!

12. The Rehearsal (dir. Alison Maclean)

This is the only film on this list that isn’t available to watch. I was lucky enough to see it at the New York Film Festival two years ago, then it had a one week run at Metrograph, then nothing. The real shame is that this isn’t some avant-garde headscratcher to be watched in university classrooms and backroom Brooklyn bars. This is a deeply humanistic, very accessible movie that almost demands wide conversation. And given its setting at an acting conservatory I especially wish all the actors in my life could watch it. Well, hopefully it pops up on some streaming site someday. But until then check out this early Alison Maclean short film that’s equally wonderful albeit wildly different in tone (this one is more like feminist Eraserhead): Kitchen Sink (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lt58gDgxy9Q&t=1s).

11. Novitiate (dir. Margaret Betts)

The history of cinema is a history of queer subtext. But it’s 2017 and while it may be fun to speculate whether Poe Dameron is gay and I’d be the first to say “Let It Go” is a perfect coming out anthem, it’s no coincidence that the best queer allegories of the year ALSO had explicitly queer characters. This film in particular is so special because it’s both the story of a young woman’s repressed sexuality and a story about how faith of all things is comparable to said sexuality. Sister Cathleen’s mother does not understand her affinity for Jesus the way many parents do not understand their children’s sexuality or gender. While coming out stories are a staple of very special sitcom episodes, I’ve never seen one that captures the pained misunderstanding the way this film does. Part of this is due to wonderful performances by Julianne Nicholson and Margaret Qualley and part of it is that religion is oddly the perfect stand-in for queerness… even as it represses queerness within this world. The movie begins with a series of flashbacks that feel stilted and conventional in a way that’s totally incongruous with the rest of the movie. It’s unfortunate because otherwise this would’ve been even higher on my list. But this is Betts’ first film and the majority of it is really special. And while I do think she’ll make even better films in what will hopefully be a long career, this one is still really worth checking out. I mean, I haven’t even brought up Melissa Leo’s frightening and absurd (yet somehow grounded?) performance that makes Meryl Streep in Doubt look like Amy Adams in Doubt.

10. The Florida Project (dir. Sean Baker)

As marketing extraordinaire A24 has managed to spread this film to a wider audience, they’ve made a lot of fuss about this film’s political depiction of Florida’s “hidden homeless,” Baker’s approach of mixing professional and non-professional actors (shout-out to Bria Vinaite who deserves as much awards attention as Willem Dafoe), and how the film “feels like a documentary.” And while I’m glad this strategy has worked, I tend to balk at the tendency of marketers and critics alike to call any movie with characters who aren’t all rich and/or white “like a documentary.” But regardless of its realism which I feel in no position to comment on, it’s certainly a great film about childhood and fantasy and how sometimes it’s easier to be a parent to everyone except your own kids. And not to build it up too much if you haven’t already seen it, but the ending is truly one of the best endings in recent years, not only in and of itself, but how it contextualizes and deepens everything that came before.

9. Whose Streets? (dir. Sabaah Folayan)

This is an exceptionally well-constructed film. I feel like most documentaries in this style have great moments but show a lack of restraint in the editing room and/or struggle to find a clear narrative. But this film moves along at an exceptional pace while still feeling comprehensive. Every sequence feels essential even when the scope expands beyond the two central individuals. This can be credited in part to the editing, but the succinctness wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for the footage captured. The intimate moments we’re able to watch are stunning and enhance the already high stakes of the surrounding film, the ongoing narrative of the country. This is an essential reminder of the humanity behind activism, the sacrifice behind news stories, and that for many people political engagement is not something to do with an open Sunday afternoon but a necessary part of survival.

8. Their Finest (dir. Lone Scherfig)

Easily the best Dunkirk-related film of the year, this is the rare movie about movies that doesn’t feel self-satisfied, but instead truly captures the joy of cinema and storytelling. It’s odd to me that romantic melodrama, a genre so celebrated when it comes to classic film, is often written off as fluff in contemporary cinema. Yes, this movie is romantic. Yes, this movie is wildly entertaining. But it’s also painful, it’s also telling a story of women screenwriters we haven’t heard before, it’s also showing how powerful art can be as an escape and a mirror in difficult times. If you’re interested in filmmaking and/or British people, check this out on Hulu. Gemma Arterton is really wonderful and Sam Claflin is good eye candy if you’re into that sort of thing.

7. Starless Dreams (dir. Mehrdad Oskouei)

This documentary about a group of teenage girls living in an Iranian “Correctional and Rehabilitation Center” is proof that sometimes the best approach to the medium is simplicity. Oskouei pretty much just lets the girls talk. But it’s truly a testament to his abilities as a filmmaker (and person) and the girls’ vulnerability and storytelling prowess that the movie remains compelling throughout. As the girls tell their stories it becomes clear that the center isn’t simply a prison, but also almost a utopic escape from the daily horrors they faced outside. Both options are so completely insufficient when compared to the lives these young women deserve this realization is enraging. And while the film takes place in Iran it doesn’t require a lot of effort to realize young women have similar stories and circumstances all over the world. This movie is on iTunes and I really, really recommend checking it out. The subject matter is heavy, but because the girls are allowed to determine the narrative it never feels maudlin or unbearable and at times is even quite funny and joyous.

6. Raw (dir. Julia Ducournau)

I really appreciated how Marielle Heller’s The Diary of a Teenage Girl captured the all-consuming lust of teenagehood. So, um, think that movie, except cannibalism. A lot of cannibalism. I feel torn between being honest about how truly gross this movie can be and pretending otherwise because I really don’t want to scare anyone away. I’ll put it this way. It’s really, really worth it to watch this through your fingers if you even maybe think you could handle it. Because it’s just a really great movie about being a teenage girl, discovering sexuality, being away from home for the first time, having a sister, having a first crush, a first sexual experience, feeling completely out of control of your desires and needs. Hey, even Ducournau insists this isn’t a horror movie. So don’t eat anything beforehand, but definitely check this out.

5. Get Out (dir. Jordan Peele)

I hardly need to add any analysis to what has easily been the most talked about and written about movie of the year. But I just need to say that it makes me so happy that a socially aware horror movie (the best subset of my favorite genre) not only made a huge amount of money but is also considered an awards frontrunner. That is so wonderfully baffling to me and a testament to the greatness of this movie. Many great horror movies capitalize on people’s fear of otherness, but those who are othered in our society are much more likely to be victims than villains. That Peele managed to show this without ever feeling like he was exploiting real pain is truly an accomplishment. The tonal balance this film achieves is certainly something I’ll study when I make a horror movie writing back to Psycho, The Silence of the Lambs, Sleepaway Camp, etc.

4. Faces Places (dir. Agn��s Varda, JR)

Agnès Varda has spent her entire career blending fact and fiction, opening up her own life for her art. But there’s something different about this film which is likely to be her last. While so much of her work places her vivacious spirit front and center this film feels almost like a cry of humanity. Oddly enough I’d compare it to Mike Leigh’s Happy-Go-Lucky in that it seems to say, “Don’t fetishize my happiness, don’t mock my joy, don’t infantilize me, just because you can’t enjoy life like I can.” I look to Varda as the kind of artist (and person) I want to be in how open she always seems to be. But what this film made me realize is that part of that openness is how sad she can be, how angry she can be. Varda is often called “the grandmother of the French New Wave.” I guess this is the only way the film community knows how to contextualize a woman being the one to start arguably the most influential film movement. Varda is the same age as all those guys! She’s not the grandmother! She just happened to make a bold, experimental film about five years ahead of the rest of them. By ending with Godard, and pairing up with JR who is basically an incarnation of Godard and friends as young men, Varda is really exploring her place in film history and the world, and how difficult it is to be to be a pioneer. No country has more contemporary films directed by women than France and this is in a large part due to Varda. But being the one to create that path is exhausting. I realize I’m making what’s easily the most life-affirming, humanist film of the year sound like an angry, self-eulogy, but I think this aspect of the film and Varda’s career should not be ignored. If you’ve never seen anything by Varda, this film will read very differently, but still be wonderful (and honestly more joyous). I recommend seeing it, watching 20 of her other films, and then seeing it again.

3. The Shape of Water (dir. Guillermo del Toro)

The trailer for this film shows the main character, Elisa played by the always wonderful Sally Hawkins, doing her daily routine. Alarm, shining shoes, being late to work, etc. But even the redband trailer leaves out one of her daily activities: masturbating. Maybe it’s odd to associate masturbation with ambition, but the choice to show that early on and then repeatedly seems like a perfect microcosm of why this film is so great. It’s not afraid. Guillermo del Toro has made a wonderful career out of celebrating “the other” through monster movie pastiches, but this to me is his very best film because of how willing it is to be both clear and complicated. This movie is many things, but one of those things is a queer love story. And even though human woman/amphibian man sex is maybe even more taboo to show on screen than say eating a semen filled peach, this movie just goes for it. I’m not sure if this movie succeeds in everything it tries to do but I so deeply admire how much it tries. Not only is one of Elisa’s best friends gay, but we spend a significant amount of time getting to know that character and see that maybe his obsolete career hurts him even more. Not only is Elisa’s other best friend black, but we see how being a black woman affects her specifically in what is expected of her versus her husband. Fantasy and sci-fi often use real people’s struggles as source material for privileged protagonists, and while this film certainly does that, it works because the real people are still shown on screen. Also del Toro is a master of cinematic craft so this is really a pleasure to watch.

2. Lady Bird (dir. Greta Gerwig)

Before diving into this specific film it’s worth noting that this is one of six debut features on this list. It’s so exciting that we’re hopefully going to get full and illustrious careers from all of these people. But when it comes to Gerwig it feels like we already have. She has been proof that if the film community is going to insist on holding onto the auteur theory, they at least need to acknowledge that actors and writers can be auteurs. Gerwig is known for being quirky, but this really sells her talent short. She is clearly someone who has a deep understanding of cinema and, more importantly, a deep understanding of people. Part of being a great director is casting great actors and then trusting them and it’s so clear that’s what happened on this film (let me just list off some names: Saoirse Ronan, Laurie Metcalf, Lucas Hedges, Tracy Letts, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Lois Smith, I mean come on). They really make her wonderful script come alive. This is a great movie about female friendship and a great movie about mother-daughter relationships, but more than anything it’s a great movie about loving and hating a hometown. Even though I’ve only seen the film twice I think back on moments in the film like I do my own adolescent memories. They feel familiar even when I don’t directly relate to them. This movie feels big in a way only a small movie can.

1. Mudbound (dir. Dee Rees)

This is when my penchant for hyperbole really comes back to bite me in the ass. I use the word masterpiece way too much. But when I say Mudbound is a masterpiece I don’t just mean it’s a great movie I really loved that I recommend everyone see. I mean, it’s The Godfather. It’s Citizen Kane. It’s the rare movie that has a perfect script, perfect cinematography, perfect performances, is completely of its time, and will stand the test of time. If we ever get to a place where art by black women is justly celebrated it will be in the 2070 AFI top 10. It’s that good. Part of what sets the movie apart is its almost absurd ambition. It breaks so many movie rules (not only does it have heavy narration, but it has heavy narration from multiple characters), and yet it always works. I love small movies, I love weird and flawed movies, but there is something so spectacular about watching something like Dee Rees’ third feature. I’m so excited to watch this movie again, to study it, to spend a lifetime with it. I feel like it really got lost in the shuffle by being released on Netflix, but that also means right now it’s on Netflix and you, yes YOU, almost certainly have or have access to Netflix. So you could watch it. Right now. Watch it. Stop reading. Turn the lights off. Find the biggest TV or computer screen you have so you can really appreciate Rachel Morrison’s cinematography and watch it. It is perfection wrapped in a bow of perfection and I really must insist you watch it.

Television!

Still Need to Catch Up On: The Girlfriend Experience (S2), Queen Sugar (S2)

Honorable Mentions: -Big Little Lies -Broad City (S3) -Girls (S6) -Insecure (S2) -Master of None (S2) -One Mississippi (S2) -Orange is the New Black (S5) -Search Party (S2) -Shots Fired

10. Twin Peaks: The Return 9. Jane the Virgin (S3/4) 8. Transparent (S4) 7. Better Things (S2) 6. I Love Dick 5. The Good Place (S1/2) 4. Sense8 (S2) 3. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (S2/3) 2. Top of the Lake: China Girl 1. The Leftovers (S3)